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SIYE Time:21:29 on 28th March 2024
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Of Dreams, Schemes and Sugar Quills
By Kelpie

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Category: Pre-OotP
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Fluff
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 10
Summary: Hermione has a rather unusual nightmare (as only Hermione could), Harry tries to uphold the Potter family Marauding tradition, Ginny gets a detention, and everything is connected -- to sugar quills.
Hitcount: Story Total: 4171







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Harry Potter sat on an overstuffed armchair in the Gryffindor common room, his Divination homework on the table before him. Strictly speaking the chair wasn't very practical for doing homework, but Harry didn't mind since he rarely actually did his Divination homework. Most of the time he left it until the last minute and then scribbled down some fantastic predictions, which usually involved his own gruesome death and weren't all that far-fetched if you considered the events of his life over the past four and a half years. At any rate, Professor Trelawney lapped them up and as such Harry saw no reason to change his method.

Tonight instead of his Divination homework, Harry was working through his mind trying to think up a prank. The challenge had come from Fred and George Weasley, by way of their brother Ron. The twins had commented that Harry didn't get up to much mischief for someone who had access to both an invisibility cloak and the legendary Marauders' Map -- and a Weasley for a best friend. Ron explained that this was because Harry was nothing if not noble, righteous and above all rather dull, so it would take a "bloody long time" before he came up with a prank that was even half-decent. Harry immediately objected to this and set himself a deadline of one month; "So you won't know when to expect it -- not that you'd see it coming, anyway."

Now that he thought about it, he feared Ron might have had a point. Breaking the rules was something Harry had only ever done to save somebody's life or get one of his friends out of trouble. Except for infamous flying car incident at the beginning of their second year, but that had been Ron's doing. Ron had been the mastermind behind all of their troublemaking, both at Hogwarts and at the Burrow during holidays, but that wasn't much help to Harry now. Surely he could come up with something of his own...

"Please tell me that look of intense concentration on your face has absolutely nothing to do with your Divination homework." Hermione flopped into the chair opposite Harry, dropping her book bag onto the table with a thud. One of the seams on the bag was beginning to fray again; Hermione's reinforcing charms were good, but they were no match for her reading habits.

"Huh? Er, no, I was just thinking about... not Divination?" Harry considered, extremely briefly, seeking Hermione's advice, but reconsidered. She was clever, but she was also Hermione.

"Not Divination? Is that so? Well, as it happens, not Divination is my favourite subject," she grinned, leaning forward to unpack her books. Harry noticed her frown as she examined the threadbare bag. Luckily Ron wasn't there; if he had been present Harry was sure this fleeting action by Hermione would have been noticed and elicited a rude remark from Ron, which probably would have in turn resulted in another argument (such incidents had been increasing in frequency ever since the Yule Ball in their fourth year).

"Yes, I suspect the whole school knows how much you enjoyed Divination, right up until you quit and stormed out of class," retorted Harry. Hermione paid little attention (she was used to similar comments from Ron), but took a quill from her bag, sucked on it, and then looked at it with an expression of relief. "Er, Hermione? Are you okay?"

"What? Oh, yes, of course, it's just--well, no, it's nothing really."

"Er--right," Harry nodded. "Perfectly normal behaviour. I find quills quite tasty. Especially feather quills."

"Oh, Harry," she sighed. "It's just -- promise me you won't tell Ron?" He nodded again. "He would never let me live it down, even though it's his fault, really. If he hadn't brought back all those sweets from Honeydukes and made me eat them--"

At this, Harry snorted. He hadn't noticed Hermione objecting to the sweets when Ron was feeding them to her the night before.

"--I mean, my parents always tell me how bad sugar is for my teeth, and I know there are many other negative effects of it, but I didn't realise sugar can give you such nightmares!"

"Nightmares?" Harry stiffened involuntarily.

"Yes, nightmares. Oh, nothing compared to yours, but I was freaked. After all, it's a nightmare," she emphasised the last word.

"What happened?"

"Well... promise me you won't tell Ron?" He nodded again, becoming slightly impatient. "All right. We were taking the OWL for Defence Against the Dark Arts, and Snape was our teacher so he had set us an incredibly complex essay question that required three rolls of parchment. Can you believe that, three rolls? I spent the reading time planning the structure of my essay and I was just itching to write it all down, didn't want to lose my train of thought, naturally. Then finally Snape said we could start writing so I picked up my quill and that was when I realised--" Hermione broke off with a stifled sob.

"What?" Harry asked, very impatient now. "What did you realise?"

"It was a sugar quill!"

Harry couldn't help it, he laughed.

"Stop it, it's not funny! Oh, you're not going to tell Ron, are you? Harry, you promised!"

She looked so distraught that he forced himself to regain composure. "I won't tell Ron. But you can't possibly be worried that your nightmare will actually come true during the OWLs. After all, you always take spare quills to exams."

"I know, I thought of that too, and I had three spare quills in my dream. But Harry, they were sugar quills too! All of them! I--I couldn't believe it. I even tried writing with them, but the sugar kept dissolving every time I dipped it into the inkwell so I ended up with extremely sugary ink and no OWL."

By the conclusion of her story Hermione was on the verge of tears and Harry felt rather uncomfortable. At the same time, he couldn't help finding the story a bit amusing and wished he hadn't sworn not to tell Ron. To compensate, he tried to think of the most Ron-like comment he could make. "Hermione, only you could have that nightmare and not think Snape being our Defence teacher was the scariest part."

Hermione shook her head in annoyance and let out a 'harumpf' sound. "I knew you wouldn't understand," she said, glaring at him. "Anyway, what were you up to before I came, if not your Divination homework?"

"Nothing, really. Just thinking."

"About...?" she prompted.

"Er..."

"Come on Harry, it's obvious you're up to something!"

Harry sighed. He might as well tell her. If he didn't she would simply approach Ron instead, and after the scene with the sweets last night (Hermione's nightmare aside) Harry's two best friends seemed to be on extremely good terms.

"That's just the problem, see: Ron challenged me to play a trick on someone. It doesn't have to be anything major, in fact, he told me to "start small" because he reckons I can't think up anything good without him or Fred or George helping. And so far, I can't."

"Ron challenged you to pull a prank? He's supposed to be a prefect!"

Harry sighed, again. "And you wonder why I didn't want to tell you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "Just -- nothing."

"I'm not that boring and straight-laced. Just because I choose not to lower myself to the same level as you and Ron and the twins, and don't participate in your silly pranks, doesn't mean I can't. And I'll tell you one thing, Harry Potter, if I did, I would out-do the lot of you."

"Er -- you would? Really?" Harry was startled by Hermione's vehemence. "How's that?"

"Well, it's obvious, isn't it? Haven't you ever wondered how your dad and Si--" (here she gave a furtive glance around the common room) "--er, Snuffles managed to do everything they did and get away with it? They applied the same principles to their mischief making as to their studies. A great prank -- not merely a good one, but truly great -- takes extensive planning, and there are many factors to consider."

"Go on," said Harry, nodding encouragingly. This was exactly what he needed.

"First of all, you need to choose a 'victim'," Hermione explained. "I think this is highly important. Generic pranks, such as Ron's trademark Dungbombs in the girls' bathroom, are okay, but the object of any prank is to get a reaction, after all, and to properly achieve that you really need a specific target. Now, I know what you're probably thinking," she held up a hand, to silence any thought Harry might dared to have voiced. "But you're best not to go for the obvious ones, not if you're trying to not get caught. Theoretically you could pull a brilliant job against Malfoy, or even Snape, but you would be the number one suspect."

"Right. So who do you suggest?"

"Now, Harry," Hermione frowned at him. "I'm not going to do all your work for you. I'm just giving you the basics. You have to choose someone yourself; someone you will get a reaction from, but someone who will also appreciate at least some small part of the humour of their situation, so they're less inclined to turn you in. Not that I'm saying you'll get caught, but, well, Ron's right, you probably will. So I would also advise you not to choose a fellow 'Marauder', unless you want to get a taste of your own medicine in return."

Hermione paused and looked over at her friend, who was now scribbling something on a scrap of parchment. "Harry? Are you taking notes?"

"Er--I might be," he admitted. "Continue?"

She gave him a sceptical look, but obliged. "Right, then. Once you have your victim, you need to consider the course of action..."




The following Thursday evening Harry, Ron and the twins were heading down to Quidditch practice. At the precise moment they went to exit through the portrait hole, a petite red-headed figure entered the common room and blocked their passage.

"All right, I'll give you one chance to confess before I turn nasty. Which one of you, my darling, rotten brothers, is responsible?" Ginny Weasley fixed her three older brothers in a glare so fierce that even Harry couldn't help squirming a little.

"Forgive us, darling sister, but what are we responsible for?" Fred asked.

"You know what I'm talking about," Ginny muttered, her teeth clenched.

"Actually, we don't," said George. "Which is not to say we're not responsible, but you might need to give us specific details to refresh our memories."

"Er, actually, guys we really need to get to Quidditch practice," Harry interrupted, still uncomfortable with Ginny's ferocity. He gave her his best pleading look. "We've got the match against Slytherin this weekend and we still haven't had a practice as a full team. The others are waiting for us..."

Ginny was unmoved. "This won't take long, Harry. You can go just as soon as my brothers confess which one of them is responsible for landing me detention with Snape."

"You got a detention?" Ron exploded. "With Snape?"

"Yes," she replied tersely. "So who did it?"

"Now you definitely need to give us details, Gin," said George.

Ginny surveyed them all, then relaxed slightly. "Fine. If it will help 'refresh your memory', Georgie. I had History of Magic this afternoon directly after lunch, so naturally I made sure that I had my sketching pad and quills to make good use of the time. However, when I got to class I discovered a strange phenomenon: all of my quills were gone."

"Gone?" George echoed. "Even that fancy sketching quill I gave you last Christmas?"

"Yes, all gone. You see, some particularly clever trickster decided to replace all of my quills with -- of all things -- sugar quills." At this Fred's face broke into a grin, but he quickly suppressed it. "So there I was, stuck in a typically boring Binns lesson, with no quills and nothing to do."

"Couldn't you have borrowed someone else's quill?" Ron asked.

"I tried, but Colin was writing a love letter to Bridget," Ginny wrinkled up her nose, "So that failed. I was so bored that I ended up eating the sugar quills--"

"All of them?" Harry broke in.

"Yes, all four of them. Which wasn't exactly a well thought out move on my part, because I wound up on such a sugar high that I couldn't fall asleep. I actually had to pay attention! In History! And I wasted a perfectly good sketching session!"

"It could have been worse, Ginny," said Hermione, who had been reading in front of the fire and joined them during Ginny's tirade. "At least it wasn't a class where you really needed to take notes. That was almost considerate of whoever's responsible, wasn't it?"

"But she got detention," Harry pointed out, aware that Hermione was looking at him intently.

"With dear old Snape," said Fred. "How did that happen, Gin?"

"Well, after History of Magic we had Potions with Ravenclaw. I thought that I might be able to get away with not having a quill, but just my luck Snape decided to give a straight theory lesson. By this stage even the sugar quills were long gone, so I couldn't even pretend to take notes. I asked Bridget if I could borrow one of hers, since she had three, but she said she needed them all so that she could colour code her notes with different inks." Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw Hermione process this piece of information and sink deep into thought; she was probably wondering why she had never used such a system for her own notes, and how best to implement it now the suggestion had been given to her. "So of course this earned me a detention from Snape for 'being a typically insufferable, insubordinate, disrespectful and conceited Gryffindor', whatever that involves. At any rate, it apparently means that I have to polish trophies for four hours tomorrow night, and I have to go directly from Herbology and skip dinner so I'll be finished in time for Astronomy."

"Ugh," Ron muttered.

"Sis, I hate to say it, but it wasn't me," said Fred.

"Nor me," George sighed.

Ginny looked to Ron expectantly. "What? Come on, Gin, you know that I would never inflict such a fate on you! Never!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, catching Harry's glance and grinning at him. He shifted uncomfortably and wished she would go away, or at least stop looking so knowing. Ginny's eyes narrowed, but she finally stepped aside. "Fine, if that's the way you're going to play it. But--" she surveyed the group again, taking them all in equally. "Remember, you had your chance. You have been warned."

The boys filed out through the portrait hole one by one. Once they were all in the corridor, Ron exclaimed, "Nutters! She's absolutely nutters."

The twins agreed. Harry, however, said nothing.




Ginny Weasley sat cross-legged in the absolute centre of the trophy room floor with the Quidditch Cup in her lap as she polished it. At semi-regular intervals she paused from her polishing to mutter her overly biased opinion of Professor Snape, using words that would surely have prompted her mother to order Ginny to "wash your mouth out with soap, young lady!" Normally Ginny respected her mother and behaved accordingly, however, there were some occasions when she lost her temper and Professor Snape giving her detention was one of them. She was sure that he assigned her this particular detention on purpose, knowing that Ginny loathed the trophy room and did her best to avoid it. It seemed as though every corner of the room held some reminder of a dark memory: Tom Riddle's gold shield for Special Services to the School, the similar award that Ron and Harry had been given after rescuing her from the Chamber of Secrets, the Tri-Wizard Cup...

That last one was the worst, Ginny thought, particularly in light of current circumstances. How was she supposed to sit there and calmly polish the very object that only a few months earlier had led Harry to Voldemort and Cedric Diggory to his death? She couldn't even bring herself to touch it and was instead lingering over the Quidditch Cup, which held much more pleasant memories of Gryffindor's victory nearly two years earlier.

Suddenly Ginny's stomach grumbled, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since lunch. She wished she had eaten something prior to her detention or, better still, that she could eat something now. Dessert, preferably, since that was Ginny's favourite meal. Winter at Hogwarts was always a bit cold for ice cream, but a nice pudding wouldn't go astray.

To her great surprise, a salad roll appeared before her eyes. Ginny blinked, disbelieving, and then gingerly picked up the roll to inspect it. After a brief examination of the food, she snorted.

"It had to be healthy," she muttered.

On this cue a piece of chocolate cake appeared just as the roll had. This time, however, Ginny was watching carefully and noticed a hand carefully setting the cake down. The hand immediately vanished. Ginny frowned, but then thought better of it and forced a grateful smile as she picked up the cake.

"Thank you, Harry," she said casually. "Got a sugar quill to go with that?"

There was an odd squeak, like a boot scraping on the floor, as the invisible person facing Ginny started in surprise. "H-how did you know it was me?"

"Which stunt? The sugar quills or this?" She broke off a piece off chocolate cake and shoved it in her mouth. "Mm, you want some?"

There was a small pause before Harry said, "Er, that is, no thanks." He must have shaken his head, Ginny realised.

"Um, Harry? Do you think you could, you know, make yourself visible?"

"Oh, right. Sorry." Harry's head appeared before her, at standing height, then lowered until it was level with Ginny's own head. She looked at him -- or rather, at his head -- queerly, and Harry looked down at his invisible body. "Oops," he remarked, and suddenly his whole body was visible sitting opposite her. Harry folded up something silvery with care.

"Is that...?" Ginny leaned forward, peering curiously.

"Yeah. That is, it's my invisibility cloak." Harry carefully removed the cloak and folded it across his arm, which then vanished from his wrist to his elbow. "So, how did you know that it was me and not one of your brothers?"

"Huh? Oh, it was Hermione."

"Hermione?!" Harry exclaimed furiously. "But she--"

"Oh no, she didn't tell me," Ginny interrupted quickly. "It was her comment about how considerate my prankster had been. First I figured it was one of the boys because usually they're the only ones who would go to so much trouble to annoy me." Harry shifted uncomfortably. "No, it's okay; I thought it was funny, really. But I realised that Hermione knew something, and was right about the person being considerate. So I thought, who's the most considerate person I know? More considerate than my brothers, at least..."

"Well, I'm not family."

"Yes you are." Their eyes met and he was startled to see how sincere her expression was. She truly meant it; she believed he belonged in their family, just as boring old Harry, yet another boy to torment her. He wondered when he had stopped being "The Famous Harry Potter" in her eyes. (Was it before, or after, she stopped being "Ron's little sister" in his?)

"Anyway," Ginny broke their moment suddenly, "George told me all about Ron's challenge to you last week, but he said not to worry about anything happening because if you actually got someone into trouble you would probably go to the teacher who caught them and beg to take the punishment instead."

"I would not!" Harry exclaimed, blushing. Then he realised that he was, essentially, voluntarily in detention with Ginny. "I mean, I'm only here because I thought you might get hungry and considering it was my fault that you got detention it seemed fair to bring you food."

"Actually, it wasn't," she said, looking down suddenly. Having polished off the cake nicely, she began picking at the roll with her fingers. "The detention, that is. It wasn't your fault; it was mine. I sort of embellished the truth slightly when I confronted you all in the common room."

"But Snape -- and the quills--"

"It wasn't because of the quills. Actually, it sort of was, see, er." Ginny glanced up at him quickly, then back down at the salad roll, which remained uneaten. "On my way to Potions I passed the Muggle Studies classroom, so I snuck in and stole one of those pen things. I transfigured it to look like a quill so I could take notes, and Professor Snape never noticed the difference. He didn't even notice that I never paused to re-ink it. They're quite useful, those pen things."

"Sure are," said Harry, indifferent. "So, how did you get detention then?"

"Um." A blush crept onto Ginny's cheeks. "Remember that part I told you, about Snape giving us a theory lesson that day?" He nodded. "That wasn't true. We did have a practical lesson, once we'd finished copying down the detailed notes of everything we were about to do wrong in concocting the potion. I guess I was a bit hyperactive, all that sugar, because I--muh--mff--ahmff..." she trailed off, mumbling incoherently.

"You what?"

She lifted her head and found that he was looking at her intently, waiting for her to continue. The thought of Harry hanging on her every word made her thrilled, nervous and uncomfortable all at once. Mostly uncomfortable, considering what she had to tell him.

"I made a cauldron explode," she admitted, her voice low.

"You? But you're smart and--" Here Harry cut out, coughing into his hand.

"It's all right, you can laugh."

"Thanks." He uncovered his mouth, now grinning widely. "No wonder Snape gave you detention -- I just wish I could have seen the look on his face!"

"I wish I hadn't," she sighed gloomily. "I suspected that he had been waiting for me to mess up for the last four years, and his expression confirmed it. It was as though someone added a final jewel to his crown: the last Weasley. Now he has given a detention to all of us."

"All seven of you? Even Percy?"

Ginny nodded. "He got Percy twice, in second and fourth years. Ron you know all about. The twins are obvious; they land detention at least once a month and every second punishment is from Snape. Charlie got in trouble occasionally at school (I remember the owls Mum received), almost always from Snape, but the best one was Bill..."

"Bill? Wait, he was Head Boy wasn't he?"

"That's why his was the best. He was Head Boy when he got the detention; Snape's first year as a teacher here was Bill's seventh year. I guess he hated the Weasley family from first sight, or maybe he doesn't like redheads, but according to Bill Professor Snape had it in for him from their first class. Obviously a teacher can't just order the Head Boy to detention, but Snape was always deducting points from Gryffindor with the most ludicrous excuses--nothing new, although I suppose it was back then--until finally, right before Easter, Bill snapped. He figured that if Snape wanted him, he could have him, but he was going down in style.

"The class was studying Truth Potions as part of their NEWT preparation Snape decided that they ought to try brewing one; not Veritaserum, but a less potent and less complex potion. Bill said it was still extremely difficult to make successfully, and that Snape's primary object in setting the assignment was to watch the Gryffindors all fail at it. However, what our favourite professor didn't realise was that Bill took this as the perfect opportunity to show Severus Snape what Weasleys are made of. It took him ages but being the Head Boy he had most of the other teachers on his side so he was able to work it out through hours of research in the Restricted Section of the Library."

"But what--" Harry interrupted, but was ignored by Ginny.

"What happened, essentially, was a large-scale version of my Potions mishap -- except that Bill had planned his, of course. The class were all quite careful about brewing their Truth Potions but, thanks to some interference from Bill, just as the lesson was finishing up the cauldrons began exploding one by one. In the end the only cauldron left intact was Bill's. Naturally this raised Snape's suspicions and he pounced on Bill, forcing him to test the potion he had made. This was also part of Bill's plan and since he had concocted the perfect Truth Potion he confessed the entire scam in minute detail. Snape was furious: he gave Bill a detention, obviously, and deducted 50 points from Gryffindor, but he also had to give Bill the highest grade for Potions in the entire year, which made him even more furious. So Bill's detention was a small price to pay; ultimately, he got the better of Snape and became a school legend after that."

When she finished the story Harry was looking at her as though she was a complete stranger; hardly the reaction of amusement she had been hoping for. "What?"

Harry snapped back to normality. "Sorry. I've never heard you talk so much before, in the entire time I've known you combined, let alone all in one go."

"Oh." She blushed. "Sorry, I get carried away sometimes. Ron keeps threatening to give me a cork for Christmas, because once I start talking I never shut up."

"I know," Harry said, and then he blushed too. "I mean, Ron's told me that too, but I didn't believe him until just now."

"Oh. Sorry," Ginny repeated, mumbling. She dragged the Quidditch Cup onto her lap and began polishing it again.

"Ginny." She didn't glance up. "I, er, I don't mind. Your talking. It's nice, actually."

Her head snapped up and Ginny gaped at him. She was too shocked to be discreet, or even embarrassed, and suddenly it didn't matter anyway because if she had heard correctly then Harry Potter had just described her talking as nice. Nice! How was she supposed to react to that? How could she possibly?

"Nice..." she croaked.

Harry blushed.

"Yeah." And with that he picked up the trophy nearest to him (a Duelling award) and began polishing it with his sleeve. Ginny snickered and was about to comment when footsteps sounded in the hallway outside.

"Snape!" she hissed. "You have to leave, quickly!"

Harry dropped the Duelling award and reached for his Invisibility Cloak in the same movement, unfortunately releasing the trophy a bit too rapidly. It clanged to the floor nosily just as Professor Snape entered the room.

"Miss Weasley!" Ginny cringed. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Sorry Professor, I guess I'm just a bit clumsy."

"So I've noticed," Snape remarked dryly. "As I recall, it was your clumsiness that earned you this detention. Show me the trophy."

While Professor Snape scrutinised her cleaning efforts, Ginny browsed the cabinets. She couldn't help a feeling of pride sneaking up on her as she observed how truly impressive the display of shiny, polished awards looked. Suddenly, however, something caught her eye and she emitted a small gasp.

"Something wrong, Miss Weasley?"

"No, sir."

Snape held his gaze fixed on her for a moment but Ginny held her ground, refusing to squirm. Finally he relaxed slightly and returned the Quidditch Cup to her.

"Your work is tolerable, I suppose. More than I would expect from most Gryffindors, although -- well, well." Snape's tone altered, taking on a delightedly sinister edge. "What do we have here? Could it be Mr Potter?"

Ginny gulped. In his haste to hide Harry had not managed to cover himself quite completely with the cloak and now Professor Snape had spotted the unattached foot near the corner cabinet.

"Show yourself please, Mr Potter. Now," Snape sounded extremely pleased with himself indeed, "If you wanted a detention, Potter, all you had to do was ask. Since you seem to enjoy Miss Weasley's company so much, I'm sure you will be glad to know that you will both be spending every night next week in detention."

"Oh, can we, really?" Ginny muttered sarcastically.

"But--but I have Quidditch practice! And I have four essays due!"

"Then perhaps your time would have been better spent working on them this evening. However, that was your choice -- a poor one, I'll grant you, but I'm hardly surprised. Come with me, Potter. Miss Weasley, you are to continue your detention. I will return for you in an hour."

Professor Snape snatched the Invisibility Cloak out of Harry's hands and ushered the boy out of the room. Ginny resumed her trophy polishing with a sigh. Her one detention had just become a one week detention. With Harry, she reminded herself. A week of detention with Harry. That was definitely worth the trouble.

As Snape led Harry triumphantly back to Gryffindor Tower, Harry mulled over what he had done. His friends were right, he was no Maurauder. Only Harry would visit a student in detention -- particularly when he had caused the detention -- and end up with detention himself. He wondered what his Dad would think, if he was alive. The original prank hadn't even been that good, he reflected, and it certainly didn't warrant the length of his detention.

The image of Ginny sprang into his mind; the lively dancing of her eyes as she talked and the passion with which she told her stories. He had realised that when she started talking like that, he actually didn't want her to shut up. Quite the opposite, in fact. The Ginny who talked incessantly was totally unlike the Ginny who squeaked incoherently whenever he was present -- and infinitely preferable, he realised.

Harry gave a sideways glance at Snape. In addition to the detention time, he would doubtless be deprived of his father's cloak for some time. It was unprecedented for the Potions Master to catch his least favourite student in the act of rule breaking without a reasonable excuse (not that Snape ever believed him anyway) and Harry knew he thoroughly deserved the punishment for his stupidity, if not his crime. However... the image of Ginny was still firmly in his head. All things considered, even forfeiting the cloak temporarily (for he was fairly confident that Professor Dumbledore would instigate its eventual return) was a small price to pay.

Yes, Harry thought. It was definitely worth it.
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