Search:

SIYE Time:5:20 on 19th March 2024
SIYE Login: no


We've All Gone A Bit Mad
By St Margarets

- Text Size +

Category: Muggle Picnic Challenge (2005-2)
Characters:None
Genres: Fluff
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 52
Summary: ** Winner of Best Romance in the Muggle Picnic Challenge **
The unusual weather in April means a bit of unusual behavior from the Hogwarts students.
Hitcount: Story Total: 8300



Disclaimer: Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions in this story are my own and in no way represent the owners of this site. This story subject to copyright law under transformative use. No compensation is made for this work.





ChapterPrinter


A/N: The characters are JKR's. The picnic is Sir Ollivander's. The fluff is mine all mine! Thanks to Ima Quidditch Fan for beta reading.

We've all gone a bit mad, Hermione thought, watching Harry and Ron lugging a heavy Muggle grill down the lawn of Hogwarts towards the lake. It was April in Scotland and the warm weather was unusual to say the least. The forget-me-not blue skies and the balmy temperatures had arrived several months early and had stayed for two entire weeks. But no one seemed to mind - least of all the witches and wizards who were setting up a Muggle picnic without magic.

Professor Dumbledore had decided to use the warm weather as a sort of a morale boaster - and it had worked wonders, Hermione decided. In the past week, she, Dean Thomas, the Creevy brothers and Harry had been the source of information for how to set up a Muggle Picnic. It had been wonderful to see Harry and Dean speaking again - and talking about such fun things as three-legged races and the best way to grill sausages.

Hermione sneezed, wondering for the hundredth time why the magical world still hadn't figured out a cure for the common cold. Perhaps this was something she should pursue when she left Hogwarts. She shook her head. Her mind was really wandering today - the ill effects of the potion Madam Pomfrey had pressed upon her.

She watched Harry and Ron walk up the green, grassy hill to retrieve a stack of lawn chairs. They were both wearing t-shirts and jeans and they were both looking very . . . fit. Especially Ron - who would have thought watching someone walk up a hill could be so mesmerizing?

Hermione brought her wayward thoughts under control. Fit? Where had that come from? And why was she looking at Ron's . . . She squeezed her eyes tightly. It must be the potion talking. But - She opened her eyes again and sighed. Ron really should wear tight Muggle jeans more often.

The sound of giggling broke into her thoughts. "Hermione, what do you think of our t-shirts? Heidi what's-her-name - you know, the third year? She let us borrow them today," Lavender Brown said, preening.

The t-shirts were the right size for third years, but not for two busty sixth year girls. Lavender's said, Friends Don't Let Friends Date Idiots and Parvati's said, Absolutely Fabulous.

"Little snug, don't you think?" Hermione said testily. She was a tiny bit jealous - well - more than a bit. The white t-shirt she was wearing was from her parents and extolled the benefits of dental floss. It wasn't the least bit sexy or humorous - the two categories of the t-shirt contest.

Lavender tossed her hair. Then her attention was drawn to Dean and Seamus carrying a futon down the slope. "Maybe I should help them with the fondue."

"It's a futon, Lavender," Hermione said, sneezing again.

"Futon, fondue, what's the difference?" Lavender asked shrugging.

Hermione opened her mouth to say something scathing about not knowing the difference between furniture and food, but Parvati interrupted her. "Oooo, I'd love to get into a sack with him." Parvati was staring at Terry Boot, from Ravenclaw, who was carrying a pile of grain sacks for the sack race later on.

Hermione stared at Parvati in amazement - Terry Boot was nothing to look at compared to Ron.

"Quidditch playing is definitely doing him some good," Lavender said, elbowing Parvati.

Hermione looked through watery eyes to spot the bloke they were ogling now. The only person in their line of sight was Ron, who was bending over, trying to unfold a lawn chair.

If magic hadn't been forbidden at the picnic, Hermione would have hexed Lavender on the spot. How dare she look at Ron like that! The possessiveness she felt took her by surprise, even as she fought to be logical. Ron wasn't hers - he was her friend only.

"I say it's time to set up the kissing booth," Parvati said eagerly. "Dean said it was a Muggle way to raise money for charity. We thought we'd donate the proceeds to St. Mungo's."

"How altruistic," Hermione said in a cold voice, pulling a tissue out of her pocket.

"It's - how do the Muggles put it? It's a win-win," Lavender said with a giggle. "I hope we can convince Harry to donate."

"What? Money or kisses?" Hermione said, knowing Harry would sooner face Voldemort than kiss those giggling Gryffindors in a public setting.

"Kisses!" Lavender said. "I'll pay to kiss him - not the other way around."

Hermione rolled her eyes. She had been hearing a lot of this lately. Harry had his own little fan club - but he never took his eyes off of Ginny Weasley to notice. At least he wasn't watching Dean like a hawk anymore. Since Ginny had broken up with Dean on Valentine's Day, some of the tension had melted out of him - but not all.

Hermione searched the grounds looking for Ginny's bright hair. Ginny had been so sad and quiet since she broke up with Dean. Even Ron had noticed and was concerned enough to talk it over with Hermione. Hermione didn't know Ginny's feelings exactly, but she thought it all must have to do with Harry - Harry who had made his jealousy of Dean known - Harry who must have royally screwed up when it came time to letting Ginny know how he felt. Hermione didn't know all the particulars, but she did know that Ginny was avoiding Harry, and Harry was pining as only Harry could pine.

She sighed and hoped that this wonderful weather and fun-filled day could somehow bring those two together.

"Ron," Lavender called. "Can you and Harry bring the kissing booth over here?"

Hermione watched in disgust as Ron and Harry lugged the wooden booth into place. Then Lavender pinned up a sign that said, Kisses: Two Sickles Each or Three Kisses for Five Sickles.

"I'm buying the discount card!" Seamus said enthusiastically. He was wearing an I'm With Stupid t-shirt, which he thought was absolutely hilarious - especially when he stood next to Professor Snape in the Entrance Hall.

"What about you, Harry?" Lavender said, batting her eyes.

The look of absolute shock on Harry's face wasn't very flattering and neither was his response. "Um - " He glanced at Ron a bit desperately and then at Hermione who could only sneeze at him. "I'm getting a bit of cold." He gave an unconvincing cough. "Wouldn't want to spread any germs." With all of his attention on the ground, he turned and he walked briskly up the hill. Hermione noticed that he was going to collide with Ginny who was carrying a large box -

"Ron?" Parvati asked provocatively from behind the booth. She had just kissed Seamus, who was dazedly staring into space.

Ron's mouth went slack and his chest heaved under his navy blue t-shirt that said, Ottery St. Catchpole Bowling Club. Before Ron could answer, Hermione hissed, "Ron! You shouldn't kiss a girl just because she'll let you!"

Ron swung his eyes from Parvati to Hermione. Then he crossed his arms. "Oh? Should I kiss a girl who won't let me?"

"That's not what I meant!" Hermione stammered. She was mortified that she had said anything and she didn't like the angry light in Ron's eye. Stupid potion.

Ron loomed over her. "Then why don't you say what you mean?"

We've all gone mad, Hermione thought, especially me. Then she took a deep breath and said loudly and clearly, "I don't think you should be kissing other girls."

Ron raised his eyebrows. "Oh? Girls other than who?"

"Whom," she corrected automatically. Then she cringed, knowing she had thoroughly irritated him now.

Ron huffed and turned away so he didn't hear her say in a small raspy voice, "me."

*

We've all gone a bit mad, Harry thought as he dashed up the long sloping lawn of castle away from the humiliating scene at the kissing booth. What was wrong with him? Why couldn't he be cool? Why couldn't he just kiss Parvati, and then Lavender too, as if it meant nothing? Or at least laugh it off. Instead he had come across as the stammering, immature idiot that he was - the idiot Ginny Weasley wanted nothing to do with.

If he had just reigned in his jealously when Dean and Ginny were dating - if he hadn't sounded so arrogant when he had asked her out . . . If, he thought in disgust. A tiny word that screamed regret and hopelessness. Stop it. It was a beautiful day - he was going to have a chance to play some of the Muggle games he had been excluded from when he was at the Dursleys - he was going to have to let this go -

He slammed into something solid. It all happened quickly, but Harry had fleeting impressions of a large cardboard box bouncing merrily down the hill, of Ginny trying to grab the box and losing her balance, and of his arms shooting out to catch her as she pitched forward. Once he had his arms around her waist, they did a strange dance where he twisted and fell back on to the ground, with one leg in the air and Ginny on top of him.

All the air left his lungs with a whoosh. His brain must have temporarily shut down, since he was only capable, for few heart-stopping seconds, of clutching her sweetly feminine body, and of reveling in the softness of her hair against his cheek and the feeling of her legs tangled with his. I can die happy now, he thought.

Ginny, however, didn't seem quite as content. She scrambled off of him, her face dangerously red, her eyes glittering. "Why don't you watch where you're going?" she hissed.

"Sorry," Harry answered hauling himself up on his elbows. Then he winced, he must have reopened that cut he had suffered during the last Quidditch practice when he had skidded along the Pitch, hanging off of his broom.

"Sorry isn't going to pick up all the sausage rolls from the lawn," Ginny retorted.

Harry saw that Neville had already caught the box before it rolled into the lake and that Seamus and Dean were picking up the packages of bread dotting the lawn. "No, but Seamus and Dean are."

"Oh," Ginny huffed and stopped in her tracks. She obviously didn't want to talk to Dean as much as she didn't want to talk to Harry. Even though her back was to him, he could tell by the set of her shoulders that she was undecided as to what to do next.

"Wait - Ginny," he blurted.

She slowly turned and crossed her arms in front of the pink t-shirt she was wearing that said Baby Spice in metallic letters. "What?" she snapped.

"I wanted to say I'm sorry - not just for running into you - but for making you so upset when I asked you out."

Her eyes narrowed.

"I didn't mean to. Really." He sighed because her stony expression hadn't changed. "I knew that you had given up on me ages ago - but I had hoped . . ."

He looked up from the blades of grass he was pulling. "Well - I got your message. I won't ever ask you out again and I hope that . . ." This part was painful because it sounded like he was begging - but it had to be said. "I hope that you'll be friends with me again sometime."

At some point during his speech Ginny had gone from red to white. She was now staring at him with her mouth slightly open, which gave her an uncanny resemblance to Ron when he realized he had been very wrong about something.

"You - " she stammered. "You knew I gave up on you? When?"

Harry couldn't understand why this was so important. He shrugged. "I don't know. Last year - when you were going out with that bloke from Ravenclaw."

She was white to the lips now. "You knew that when I was going out with Michael?" she squeaked.

"Yeah." He frowned. "Hermione told me - and I was sort of glad, actually, since you talked to me then." She had talked to him all last summer, too, he thought with a pang. Then he had been stupid enough to fall for her while she was dating his dorm mate.

To his complete surprise, Ginny sat down next to him on the grass.

"Harry - " she began, looking out at blue lake and the colorful sight of Hogwarts students dressed in t-shirts of every color rather than their usual black robes. "Harry, I've really messed things up. Badly."

Before he could say anything, she turned and looked him in the eye. "I hurt two people and most of all myself because I didn't know my own mind."

He didn't understand.

"I thought I liked Dean - but I never should have gone out with him in the first place. I think it was a rebound thing." She sighed. "And I just assumed that you became interested in me because you had given up on Cho - and I didn't want to be your rebound girlfriend."

Harry started to protest that nothing was further from the truth, but Ginny held up her hand. "I didn't want to be your sure thing," she added in a bitter voice.

Since Harry wasn't sure about most things in life except that Voldemort tried to kill him on an annual basis, this seemed strangely laughable. "Right," he said in the same bitter tone, looking away.

Then Ginny swore - she swore like someone who had grown up with six brothers could swear. It was so startling to hear that sort of profanity coming out of such an innocent-looking girl, that Harry couldn't help but smile.

This stopped Ginny in mid-tirade. "Why are you smiling?"

He was probably in more trouble with her now than he had ever been - but it was strangely cathartic to see her so passionate about the situation. "Ginny, you're wearing a pink t-shirt that says Baby Spice and you're using language that would cause your mother to scour out your mouth with every charm she knew before she grounded you until you were of age."

Ginny stared at him and then he saw the corners of her mouth twitching. "Oh, hell!" she finally said.

He couldn't help it - he laughed. And then she laughed too. When she finally stopped, her eyes were bright with mirth. "Sorry," she said, softly.

He wasn't sure if she was sorry for swearing, or if it was regret in general, but it didn't matter. She was smiling again.

She looked down at her t-shirt and asked, "Harry, you grew up with the Muggles - what does this mean? I thought it was referring to Muggle children learning cookery or something."

"It's about an all-girl group called the Spice Girls."

Ginny frowned.

"A musical group."

Her face cleared. "Oh - what do babies have to do with it?"

"Each of the girls has a nickname - I think one of them is Baby - there's Sporty and Posh too - from what I can remember."

He could see that Ginny didn't understand the logic behind this. "Do you like their music?" she asked.

"Um. I don't think it's their music that's the attraction."

"Well, what is?"

"It must be the short skirts and platform shoes," he answered dryly.

She stared at him like he had lobsters crawling out of his ears. "I don't get it."

"Muggles," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"Sounds more like a male thing, rather than a purely Muggle thing," she snorted. "What is it with you blokes and short skirts? No wait - don't answer that." She held up her hand. "I don't want to know."

Harry reckoned that Ginny already knew the answer to that one. They lapsed into a companionable silence - the first they had shared since the summer. He didn't want to shatter the mood by saying anything stupid, so he took the opportunity to look at his elbow. The contact with the ground had torn the scab right off and it was bleeding a bit.

"Harry!" Ginny's eyes were round. "You're bleeding!"

"Yeah - I hurt my arm yesterday at Quidditch practice. I must have scraped it again when we fell."

She leaned over him to inspect his elbow, her hair bushing his arm. She smelled so good . . .

"You should clean this up - I can see some specks of dirt."

"Okay," he said, glad for her attention and the concerned note in her voice. Maybe she would never go out with him, but at least they were talking again.

She stared up at him, only inches away from his face. "I'm surprised, you're not usually so . . ."

Harry's heart raced - she was so close - so wonderfully close that he could see the gold flecks in her eyes. Her lips parted and he could hear her soft intake of breath. We've all gone a bit mad, Harry thought as he leaned into to kiss her.

"Fire!"

Harry and Ginny sprung apart and looked in the direction of the noise. Tall red flames were erupting from the grill.

*

We've all gone a bit mad, Ron thought as he batted ineffectually at the fire with his spatula. Why trust a Muggle fire when they could easily have a safe, controllable magical one?

"Get out of the way!" Ernie MacMillan and Anthony Goldstein took out their wands.

"No magic!" Lavender shrieked.

"We won't use magic," Ernie called. Then he and Anthony prodded the lid of the grill closed with their wands.

"Fire needs oxygen to survive," Anthony explained.

"Good show!" Hermione said in a husky voice.

Now Ron was more annoyed than ever. Since he was a prefect, he was stuck cooking on a Muggle fire, Hermione was angry with him because Parvati invited him to the kissing booth, and now the bloody Ravenclaws were showing off. And why did Hermione with a cold have to sound so damned sexy? It wasn't fair - not a bit of it.

"Ron?" He felt a soft hand on his bare arm. "Are you okay? You didn't get burned?"

It was Hermione - turning the tables yet again. Her hand felt wonderfully cool on his overheated skin.

He took a deep breath before he answered. "I'm fine." He glanced down at her. "Really."

"I'll help you," Hermione said, still not taking her hand off of his arm.

Normally he would have protested, but the Muggle smoke must have befuddled him - or her hand on his arm. "Okay."

Hermione examined the grill. "I see the problem - the gas was on all the way."

Ron didn't bother asking her to explain. He was never going to cook on a Muggle grill again in his life. Unless Dumbledore loses his mind again, he thought grimly.

Meanwhile, a group of third years set the tables dragged from the Great Hall. The steady trail of students carrying bowls of salad and crisps and sandwiches that had been prepared in the kitchens finally ended as the tables filled with food. Hermione handed Ron an apron that said, Kiss The Cook, and donned one that said, Domestic Goddess. Ron turned his inside out. Hermione noticed this with a lift of her eyebrows, but didn't say anything.

They soon had a steady rhythm going. Ron kept a careful eye on the sausages, while Hermione put them into rolls as they were cooked. Neville and Ernie MacMillan took the platters to the tables. Soon all was quiet as the students ate hungrily - their appetites whetted by the fresh air and all the manual labor they had just engaged in.

Ron finally looked up, through a cloud of savory smoke, to see where Harry and Ginny had ended up. The last he noticed, Harry had accidentally knocked a box of rolls out of Ginny's hands. But they were nowhere to be found.

"Do you see Harry or Ginny?" he asked Hermione in a low voice.

Hermione scanned the tables. "No," she murmured. "I saw them sitting and talking at the hill - but then we started to cook . . ."

"I hope they're okay," Ron fretted.

"Why? What could happen?"

"I don't know - none of the Slytherins are here since this is a Muggle Picnic. It would be just like Malfoy to make life miserable for them."

Hermione was biting her lip and looking around the grounds. "Should we go look for them?"

"Let's eat first," Ron suggested.

Half of the students had already wolfed down their food and were eagerly trying out the kites Hagrid had brought over from his hit. A group of energetic second years were running, trying to lift the life-size Hippogriff kite off of the ground.

Ron was glad he didn't have to share a table with his dorm mates for once. Even though he was around Hermione all the time, they were rarely alone together without some sort of duty to occupy them.

"This is good," Hermione said rapturously. "I haven't had picnic food for such a long time."

He hadn't either - and the Muggle crisps were surprisingly good. He continued to take large handfuls out of the bag, until they were gone. "He ate all of that?" Lavender said to Hermione, picking up the empty bag. She and some other sixth year girls were in charge of cleaning up.

Hermione said stoutly, "He's been slaving over a grill for the past hour - I think he deserves a few crisps." Ron's face grew warm as he realized Hermione was sticking up for him.

"A few," Lavender said sarcastically. Obviously she had not forgiven him for snubbing the kissing booth.

"Shall we look for Harry and Ginny now?" Ron asked after he finished his fifth biscuit.

"We're going to miss the sack race," Hermione warned.

"I don't fancy hopping along right now," Ron said, patting his stomach.

They skirted around the course. Ron could see easily over the heads of his classmates. "Neville's winning," he announced.

"Good," Hermione said absently. "Ron, do you think Harry and Ginny even ate lunch?"

" Dunno. Where should we start looking?"

"Hagrid's?" Hermione suggested.

The walked slowly to Hagrid's, the noise from the cheering crowd receding into the distance. Soon, all Ron could hear was birdsong and the sound of the new leaves in the Forbidden Forest rustling in the breeze.

"Look at Hagrid's garden," Hermione said. There were neat rows of pale green sprouts. "Amazing - his lettuce is up already."

Ron didn't know how Hermione could tell it was lettuce, but he let that go. He was feeling mellow from all the good food and the relaxing walk.

"They're not here," Hermione announced after she peeked into a window.

"Let's sit on the bench," Ron said. He didn't want to return to the crowd and the noise so soon.

They settled on the bench, their backs supported by Hagrid's hut, with the sun in their faces. This is heaven, Ron thought.

"This is heaven," Hermione said. Ron glanced over at her. Her eyes were closed and she had a dreamy smile on her lips. Her lips. Ron swallowed, trying to push those thoughts away. Hermione was not interested in him like that.

Or was she? The kissing booth was a silly Muggle custom, but Hermione wasn't yelling at Seamus about it.

"Ron - why did you put that apron on inside out?" Hermione asked abruptly. She still hadn't opened her eyes.

"Because I didn't want you to be angry with me," he answered. It was easier to talk to her with her eyes closed.

She straightened up slowly and opened her eyes. "Why did you think I would be angry?" she asked in a bewildered tone.

"Oh, I don't know - you had just finished telling me off about kissing girls in a kissing booth."

"And you thought your ickle self was going to be attacked by those same girls if you wore that apron?" she answered sarcastically. "I can't believe you're that arrogant."

"I'm not that arrogant," Ron said, heatedly. "I was trying to avoid another stupid conversation about kissing with you."

"Why is talking about kissing stupid?" she demanded.

"Because kissing should be done - not talked about." His knee brushed hers when he turned toward her.

"Then why don't you do some kissing instead of arguing?" she exclaimed, moving her face closer to his.

We've all gone a bit mad, he thought. Hermione was practically daring him.

"Okay."

Her eyes widened, but she didn't pull back. "Oh, no - I have a cold."

It was the same excuse as Harry had used - and it sounded as ridiculous. "I like colds, then I can skive off classes."

"You shouldn't skive off classes," she murmured, locking eyes with him as he brushed her hair away from her face.

He didn't quite know how to begin - it was one thing to accept a dare - and another to go through with it. But her cheek was so smooth where he had touched it. So he started by kissing her there.

She looked relieved that he had given her a chaste kiss. "You're safe from ger-"

He cut her off before she had the chance to finish. Braving germs and a slap in the face, he kissed her - finally - like he had dreamed of kissing her since their fourth year. And - finally - in a way that he never could have imagined - she kissed him back.

When they broke apart, Hermione took a deep shuddering breath and relaxed her grip on his shoulders. "Mad."

He grinned. "It's the first sensible thing I've done all day," he said thinking of the kissing booth and the Muggle grill.

She smiled back and put her arms around his neck. "I reckon so."

*

Ginny watched Hagrid's colorful kites wheeling in the blue sky. There was a Hippogriff, a green dragon, and several bright box kites. It seemed so strange to be looking out from the castle and seeing such vivid colors after the monotonous landscape of winter. And it had all happened so quickly. One day it was cold and gray - and by the next, it was so warm that the grass grew overnight.

Her life could change that abruptly too, she realized. One minute she was arguing and the next, she was just inches away from a kiss. Harry was going to kiss her then, wasn't he?

Ginny sighed and looked to the hospital wing again. Harry had been in there long enough for a simple cut - and she didn't think Madam Pomfrey was bound by the restriction on magic today.

"They've all gone mad!"

Ginny whirled around to see Draco Malfoy with his habitual sneer in place. She tossed her head and turned back to the window. Since he was alone and had no one to egg him on, she figured he would go away if she ignored him.

"Look at them," Malfoy spat. "Wizards playing Muggle games! There's no pride left."

"I think you have enough arrogance to make up for everyone," Ginny said, breaking her resolve not to speak.

"You look sweet in pink, Baby Weasley," he taunted. "Good enough to eat - although I think you might be too spicy."

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. With her back still to him, she fingered her wand in her pocket. She was going to hex him for that, regardless of the ban on magic.

"Just do it," he taunted. "You're not going to hurt me."

"Oh no?" Ginny spun around and shot a spell at Malfoy. He was expecting her attack, since had his wand out - but he wasn't expecting Harry's. Ginny's hex combined with Harry's in a whirl of color, lifting Malfoy off of his feet and slamming him into the wall.

"Harry!"

"Sorry it took me so long," Harry said pocketing his wand and stepping over the unconscious Malfoy. "There was a queue for first aid."

"Why?"

He shrugged. "Wizards aren't used to Muggle games, I reckon. One bloke broke his nose when he tripped in the sack race. I think Hannah Abbot knocked out another fellow's teeth with a horseshoe when she overshot the mark." Harry glanced at Malfoy. "So, he fell in the three-legged race?"

"How about Pansy Parkinson decked him when he visited the kissing booth?"

Harry laughed. "Serves him right - the two-timing git. Mobilicorpus." He started to move Malfoy to Madam Pomfrey's office.

"Do we have to help him?" Ginny complained. "He wouldn't do that for you."

Harry shrugged and continued to walk along the corridor with Malfoy's unconscious form dangling in mid-air. "So what did Malfoy say to you?"

"That I looked good enough to eat."

Without a word, Harry dumped Malfoy on the ground. "He can crawl like the snake he is," Harry said savagely. Then he turned to Ginny. "I had no idea - I thought he was going on about Dumbledore. If I had known he was saying anything like that . . ."

Harry's eyes blazed. Ginny didn't normally like it when Harry displayed his temper, but it was strangely satisfying to see him so passionate about her. She put her hand on his wrist. "I don't think he'll try anything like that again."

"He'd better not." Harry took her hand in his and together they made their way downstairs in silence.

"Aren't we going outside?" Ginny asked when Harry turned to go down the stairs toward the cellars.

"I reckon lunch is long over. Let's see what Dobby can give us."

They found the elves looking forlornly at several boxes stacked on one of the immaculate tables in the kitchen.

"What's up?" Harry asked Dobby.

"Oh, Mr. Harry Potter, sir! We knows not what to do with Muggle food!"

The elves stared at them as if they were afraid the boxes of leftovers were going to explode at any moment.

"Um. If you can't use the leftovers. . . "

"Leftovers? Mr. Harry Potter, sir," Dobby squeaked.

"Yeah," Harry glanced at Ginny and grinned. "That's what Muggles call them. So - why don't you put these boxes in the common rooms? I reckon the students will be hungry after the picnic is over."

"Oh, Mr. Harry Potter is -"

Harry cut him off in mid-rapture. "Dobby, Ginny and I missed lunch."

"Say no more." The elves sprung into action. "Mr. Harry Potter and his pretty Wheezy shall have a picnic with food prepared by magic."

Within seconds, a heavy picnic hamper was thrust in Harry's hands. He grinned at Dobby. "Just don't tell McGonagall - okay?" he asked, heading for the exit.

Dobby beamed. "Anything for Mr. Harry -" The fruit painting swung shut.

*

They spread the blanket provided by Dobby on to the Quidditch Pitch and dug into the basket. "Much better than leftovers," Harry said, biting into a chicken leg. "And look," he continued, "treacle tart for afters."

"You and your treacle tart." For as long as she had known him, Harry had loved sweets and chocolates and desserts of all kinds. She frowned in thought, watching him eat with enthusiasm. He really hadn't changed all that much over the years. Yes, he was taller and better looking and a bit world-wearier - but he was still Harry.

Some things - unlike the weather - never changed, she realized. Like how I feel about Harry. She smiled fondly at him.

He smiled uncertainly back and finished his treacle tart. "That was good."

The plates and containers started to stack themselves in the picnic hamper. "Does this mean we're in trouble for using magic today?"

"It's elf magic, not ours," Ginny pointed out. "Besides, we've already hexed Malfoy."

"That was fun," Harry said, lying back on the blanket. "Look at the clouds. See anything?"

Ginny looked up, but the sun was in her eyes, so she turned in the same direction as Harry. "I see a puffskein."

He laughed. "Most clouds look like puffskeins."

She giggled. "I always say that." She settled on her back, next to him. The sky was an endless blue and the clouds formed and reformed as they watched.

"Dragon."

"Where?"

"Next to the Bludger."

"You're seeing things."

"Must be the glasses." He took them off and rolled on to his side.

"Can you see me?"

"There is no dragon or Bludger next to you."

"Oh," she breathed. His green eyes were so beautiful. She could only stare back at him, her pulse racing, as he leaned closer.

His first kiss was just like the first time she saw him at Kings Cross Station - brief and sweet and promising.

The next touch of his mouth was gentle - so gentle. Had she ever known a boy to be so gentle? All the blushes she had ever felt came over her in warm waves as his lips brushed hers. Maybe she could breathe again when she knew what she wanted . . .

Her hands raked down his back in an incoherent plea, causing his kisses to change yet again. These were kisses that satisfied, since now she could match her passion, her demands with his.

In a few minutes - or maybe in a few hours - it was hard to tell - they broke apart to stare at each other. "Um," Harry said.

"Any dragons or Bludgers next to me now?" Ginny asked with a smile. She was still in his arms and she didn't want him second-guessing what had just happened.

Harry made a show of looking around her. "No, although the picnic hamper is gone."

"It is?" she moved to sit up, but he held her back.

"Dobby must have Summoned it."

"Oh." She buried her face in his shoulder, knowing they would have to leave soon. Ron and Hermione would notice they were missing. "Harry," she finally said.

"Hmm?"

"I suppose I have to ask you out now."

He pulled back to look into her face. "I did promise to never ask you out again."

"Mum would disapprove, but these are mad times," Ginny mused. "Would you go out with me?"

"Okay," he said, smiling.

"That's two okays in one day from you."

He shrugged. "We've all gone a bit mad today. Besides, I'm your sure thing."

"You are," she agreed softly. He always had been - in his way.

*

"They've all gone a bit mad," Luna said to Harry and Ginny when they finally joined the rest of the students by the edge of the lake. They had missed every game and contest and now half of the awards ceremony.

"Oh, why?" Ginny asked, also wondering why Luna had her t-shirt on inside out.

"Because Professor Flitwick is handing out awards for who has the best sunburn. I think everyone is going to receive an award today."

The Creevy brothers, in identical Got Milk? t-shirts, lugged a large trophy between them.

"What contest did they win?" Harry asked.

"The three-legged race," Luna answered. "Did you know the Crumple-Horned Snorkack has three legs?" she added conversationally.

Harry didn't answer, so Ginny broke the silence. "Um, Luna, why do you have your t-shirt inside out?"

Luna rolled her eyes. "I don't understand it, but Professor McGonagall made me. She said my t-shirt was inappropriate for school."

"What does it say?" Harry asked.

"It's just a Muggle football t-shirt. My dorm mate loaned it to me."

Ginny knew then that Luna's dorm mate had set her up. "What does it say?"

"It says, Co-ed Naked Football: Take Advantage of Scoring Chances." Luna frowned. "I don't see the problem. It sounds like an orthodox strategy - even for a Muggle game."

"Yes, well." Ginny glanced at Harry who looked like he was going to laugh at any moment.

"They're holding hands," Luna said, pointing to Ron and Hermione.

Ginny gasped. They were holding hands - and looking quite happy about it.

"Harry, Ginny. Where were you?" Hermione demanded.

"We were looking all over," Ron added.

"You didn't look on the Pitch - or the hospital wing - or the kitchens," Harry said with a gleam in his eye.

"Nooo, we didn't." Hermione blushed.

"Shh- they announcing the winners of the t-shirt contest," Luna said, craning her neck to see.

Gryffindor swept that category with Seamus winning for his I'm With Stupid t-shirt, and Pavarti winning for her tight Absolutely Fabulous t-shirt. Seamus was glad to finally change out of that shirt, since no one would stand next to him all day.

Finally, all the trophies and points had been distributed and the students began the climb back to the castle. The sun was setting in a red ball over the Forbidden Forest, staining the castle walls crimson. It had been a beautiful day.

First Hermione sneezed behind Ginny, and then Ron.

"I think we should all go mad a bit more often," Luna said.

"Here, here," the students closest to her agreed.

*

Professo r Dumbledore stood at the window of his tower and watched the chattering students climb the hill. The silver instruments on his desk told him that the weather would turn foul tomorrow, but at least they had had today.

He sighed. Too many times this year he had seen his students go mad with anger or grief or fear. How lovely to see them all mad with happiness - no matter how brief the moment.

"Let it be enough," he whispered, picking the dark, messy-haired head out of the crowd. "Let it be enough - until he can keep safely all the happiness he deserves."

A/N: These were the challenge lines I used: I’d love to get into a sack with him/her! Quidditch playing is definitely doing him/her some good. She/he stared at him/her like he/she had lobsters crawling out his/her ears. Just do it. You’re not going to hurt me. Futon, fondue, what’s the difference? He/She really ate all of that?! The only one I couldn't work in was the one about the outfit.
Reviews 52
ChapterPrinter




../back
‘! Go To Top ‘!

Sink Into Your Eyes is hosted by Grey Media Internet Services. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related characters are trademarks of Warner Bros. TM & © 2001-2006. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions on this site are those made by the owners. All stories(fanfiction) are owned by the author and are subject to copyright law under transformative use. Authors on this site take no compensation for their works. This site © 2003-2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Special thanks to: Aredhel, Kaz, Michelle, and Jeco for all the hard work on SIYE 1.0 and to Marta for the wonderful artwork.
Featured Artwork © 2003-2006 by Yethro.
Design and code © 2006 by SteveD3(AdminQ)
Additional coding © 2008 by melkior and Bear