The One With Ginny's Boyfriend by Kezzabear
Summary: ***Winner of Most Humerous in The One Where Everyone Found Out challenge (2021-1)***Will the worst kept secret at Hogwarts find it's way outside the castle walls?
Rating: G
Categories: The One Where Everyone Finds Out (2021-1)
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2021.06.12
Updated: 2022.09.11
Index
Chapter 1: The one with the puking pastilles
Chapter 2: The one with the photographs
Chapter 3: The one with all the gossip
Chapter 4: The one where everyone knows
Chapter 1: The one with the puking pastilles
Author's Notes: Hopefully I can get it finished in time ...
Dear Gred and Forge,
You gotta help me! I need an emergency supply of Puking Pastilles! If I have to keep watching Ginny snog all over the castle, I’ll end up a shadow of my former self! It’s enough to make a man vomit! Seriously! It’s just not right, a brother having to see this. But does Ginny listen to me? Oh nooooooo! He’s not much better. Smarmy git.
I need a good supply of the anti-vomiting Puking Pastille if I’m going to survive this!
Or maybe send both parts, I can give the vomiting bit to them and maybe they will be too vomity to snog! Either way — you gotta help me! PLEASE!
Ron
~*~
George laughed out loud as he read the letter which arrived early one Sunday morning in May.
“What’re you laughing at?” Fred asked grumpily, batting Pigwidegeon away from his head. The tiny owl had awakened them by crashing madly into their kitchen window and causing a ruckus among the dirty dishes left in the sink from a rather rambunctious Saturday night.
“Young Ronald seeks our assistance in dealing with Ginny’s amorous activities!” George chortled again and Fred looked at him, pained.
“He what?”
“Seems like he’s had about enough of Ginny snogging in front of him,” George said, waving the letter in Fred’s general direction. “Wants anti-vomit pastilles. I say we give him memory potions. Much more amusing!”
“What’s he sooking about her snogging now for?” Fred said, angling his head to read the letter in George’s hand. “Hasn’t she been going out with that plonker all year?”
“That’s what my sources told me,” George said with a shrug, reaching for the crazy owl which had managed to tangle itself in the low-hanging kitchen lightshade. “One Dean Thomas, sixth year, smarmy git.”
“And who are your sources anyway?” Fred asked, taking the letter and throwing it carelessly on the table. It landed innocuously among the crumbs and other detritus there.
“Angelina knows all,” George said sagely.
“She’s not even at Hogwarts,” Fred said with a shrug. He propped his feet up on a spare chair and waved his wand in the direction of the sideboard. A clean bowl and spoon came sailing onto the table in front of him.
"Yeah, but she was last year — and they’ve been going out since last year,” George rolled his eyes at Fred as if he was a particularly slow student who was struggling to keep up.
“How do you know it’s still him though?” Fred persisted, dodging the cornflakes he inexpertly summoned from the pantry. “We should ask Katie. She’s back at Hogwarts now, isn’t she? She’ll have the up-to-the-minute news about the lives and loves at the castle.”
“Why would it be anyone but Dean?” George asked, grabbing the milk before it slammed onto the table. “Ginny told us after the Yule Ball that Neville would never be … her thing. Who else is there?”
“Colin Creevey? Or that Alistair kid in fourth year? Arthur … Archibald … Ah, I can’t keep track of the children,” Fred said, shaking his head. He poured cornflakes and then milk into his bowl and began spooning it into his mouth, chewing speculatively. “Maybe it’s not a Gryffindor.”
“If Ron is seeing them this much, then it’s a Gryffindor,” George said. “I just don’t see her with Seamus.” He wrinkled his nose as he reached into the sideboard for a mug.
“I’m telling you; we need to ask Katie,” Fred insisted, brandishing his spoon at George.
“It’s obviously just Dean,” George argued. “Are we even gonna send Ron any Puking Pastilles?” George laughed.
“Nah,” Fred said, picking the letter up and examining it as if he could work out who was snogging his sister by staring at it long enough. “He can buy ‘em like everyone else.”
~*~
Dear Katie,
Life is great here on the outside. The shop’s going well and it’s much more satisfying developing products without trying to hide the evidence from Filch and Snape. The Alley isn’t doing too good, mind, but we manage to overcome that. All’s well at WWW.
Hope the NEWTS aren’t treating you too bad. How goes it at Hogwarts anyway? I know it’s not a patch on what it used to be since we’ve left, but no doubt there’s still a few things of value to report. Notably and first and foremost a who’s who of romantical entanglements.
Imagine the targeted marketing we could do with this information, Forge!
Oi! Katie doesn’t care about that, Gred! — And get out of my letter!
So what is the latest anyway? Any new Gryffindors keeping company? Drop us a line! Let us know!
Yours, Fred
~*~
Katie Bell groaned as she shrugged her cloak off and threw it on top of her trunk along with her book bag. Her textbooks and various pieces of parchment threatened to spill out along with several quills and an inkpot. She toed her shoes off without undoing the laces and kicked them under her four-poster. NEWTS were going to be the death of her, she was sure of it. A little while ago, everyone thought a stupid opal necklace would be the death of her but that she had managed to overcome. A combination of Potions Essays and Arithmancy diagrams had the potential to be much more lethal. Everyone had been great since she’d returned to Hogwarts. She’d had work brought to her at St Mungos when she was well enough and the professors had given her extra help, modifying her academic requirements. Harry had been a bit intense about Quidditch but since both she and Ron had been unable to play and he’d had to put up with McClaggen and Ginny Weasley’s ex, she didn’t really blame him. It had paid off though. They’d won the House Cup this afternoon. Pity she still had to study after tea.
Katie smiled inwardly as she thought about the game — and the aftermath. She’d seen it coming a mile off. There’s no way that even Harry, with his poor eyesight, should have taken so many bludgers during practice unless he was incredibly distracted. Katie shook her head as she searched for her slippers, wondering again how Harry was even such a fabulous Seeker. He’d also taken long enough to notice Ginny, and Katie had contemplated forcing the issue more than once in recent days. Luckily, she’d not had to resort to such tactics and Harry had taken care of it himself in his own inimitable style. He and Ginny were simply perfect for each other really and Katie hoped Ginny would be willing to share a bit — maybe give the seventh years a break from all the NEWTS intensity.
Katie grinned and then flung her cloak to the floor, opening her trunk and rummaging about inside for some of the treats she’d brought back to school with her. Once she’d loaded her bed up with tins of biscuits, home made cake and a vast selection of sweets, she slipped out of her dorm and down to the fifth-year dorm, knocking softly before poking her head around the door. Vicky Frobisher and Demelza Robbins looked up from their books at the intrusion.
“Hey,” Demelza said casually, giving Katie a half wave. “Everything all right?”
“Yeah, just looking for Ginny,” Katie explained, opening the door a little wider. Vicky giggled but Demelza just rolled her eyes.
“Probably still wrapped around Harry Potter in that alcove near the tapestry of Phineas the Pigkeeper on the sixth floor.”
“Hiding from Ron,” giggled Vicky. Katie grinned.
“That’s what I wanted to ask her about.”
“Ron?” Demelza wrinkled her nose, looking perplexed.
“No! Harry!” Katie said with a wink. Vicky giggled again but Demelza shrugged. A sudden clatter on the stairs made Katie withdraw her head from the dorm and peer out into the corridor. Hermione Granger and Sophie Roper were making their way to the sixth-year dormitory, so Katie waved them over.
“Have you seen Ginny?” she asked. “I was hoping we could all hang out for a bit. I’ve missed everyone and … you know — well there’s a fair bit to catch up on.”
“It’s not us you want to catch up with,” Sophie said with a smirk. Demelza made kissing noises and fell about laughing. Hermione sighed.
“Honestly, I’m sure there’s not that much to tell.” Just then there was a loud thump and an outbreak of giggling from the bottom of the stairwell.
“Sounds like Ginny now,” said Sophie peering back down the staircase. “Finally peeled herself off The Boy Who Lived, has she?” Hermione frowned. Katie pushed past her and leaned into the stairwell.
“Ginny? Is that you?” she called down. A muffled noise in the affirmative floated upwards. “Come meet us up in the seventh-year dorm! I’ve got treats!” Katie scampered out of the fifth-year dorm and back to her own, the other girls trailing in her wake.
By the time Ginny arrived, eyes alight as she bounced into the room, both Lavender Brown and Pavarti Patil had also made their way up to the seventh-year dorm and settled themselves on Kimberley Enfield’s bed near the window. Tavia Ashley, the seventh -year prefect, had arrived fresh from her shower and was casting warming charms on mugs of hot chocolate near their stove.
“Okay girl, start talking,” Sophie said without preamble as Ginny sat rather demurely on the end of Katie’s bed and selected a chocolate frog from the pile of sweets there.
“Oh, it’s another Celestina Warbeck,” Ginny said airily, holding up the chocolate frog card she had just unwrapped. “What I actually need is a Cassandra Vablatsky.”
“Don’t be coy, Ginny,” said Katie impatiently. “It doesn’t become you at all!” Ginny grinned and bit the head off her frog, eyes sparkling as she chewed and swallowed.
“I kissed Harry Potter,” she said, “a lot!” Hermione groaned.
“You know this is like hearing about your brother, don’t you?” Ginny just laughed as she stuffed the rest of the chocolate frog in her mouth. Katie glared at Hermione impatiently.
“Not to me!” she said. “I wanna hear all the details!” The rest of the girls in the room nodded vigorously.
“C’mon, spill!” insisted Tavia, handing Ginny a hot chocolate.
“We spent all afternoon together,” Ginny said with a sigh, “and this evening. He’s been looking at me funny for ages now. Probably thinks I didn’t notice but —“
“I noticed,” said Katie, “and I’ve been away for six months!”
“Are you actually his girlfriend now?” asked Vicky. “I mean, did he ask you out?”
“No,” Ginny shook her head and Hermione turned to stare at her.
“What do you mean?” Hermione demanded. Ginny smiled and took a sip of her hot chocolate before replying.
“I asked him,” she said simply. “After I told him about the game —“
“You what?” Lavender interrupted. “That’s what you went out to do? Talk about the game?”
“Yes,” Ginny said, staring at Lavender. “Some of us actually talk to our boyfriends.” Lavender blushed and looked away, suddenly extremely interested in choosing the perfect Pumpkin Pasty from the basket on Kimberley’s bed.
“So, Harry is your boyfriend?” Sophie asked. Ginny nodded and then bounced a little on the end of Katie’s bed, making the pile of sweets rustle and threaten to jump onto the floor.
“He’s so cute,” Vicky said with a sigh. Ginny smiled dreamily. Hermione rolled her eyes.
“Be happy for me,” Ginny said without venom, nudging Hermione with her foot.
“I am,” said Hermione, “but you’re not the one who had to spend all afternoon and all evening listening to Ron!” Ginny and Katie burst out laughing. Hermione just looked disgruntled.
“I don’t care about Ron Weasley,” Vicky said impatiently. “How did you ask Harry out?”
“I just did.” Ginny shrugged. “Will you be my boyfriend?”
“You did not,” said Tavia. “That’s not even romantic!”
“Were you expecting poetry?”
“Well … just something a bit more than will you be my boyfriend!” Tavia insisted. The debate went on for some time, each girl having her own idea about romance, but all ultimately agreeing that spontaneously kissing someone in the middle of a House celebration was pretty romantic.
“But you, Ginny, clearly need some work in the romance department!”
“Clearly, she does not if she’s spent all afternoon and all evening with her new boyfriend,” said Demelza.
“Is he a good kisser?” asked Kimberley who had returned to her dorm in the middle of the debate about romance. She broke off a piece of Cauldron Cake and, stuffing it in her mouth, looked at Ginny expectantly.
“Definitely better than Michael,” Ginny said. “Not as wet.” Hermione made a face.
“I kissed Zacharias Smith once,” Sophie said. “Now he’s a sloppy kisser.”
“Eeeew, really?” Parvati looked rather ill. Katie didn’t blame her.
“Let’s not dwell on Zacharias!” Kimberley exclaimed. “I want to hear about Harry! Did he run his fingers through your hair? Cup your cheek? Has he touched your butt?”
“Was there tongue?” Tavia demanded, leaning forward. Ginny blushed a little at that point and Katie wondered if they’d pushed her too far. Ginny was a little younger than them after all.
“Yes,” Ginny said, stuffing her mouth full of cake, probably so she wouldn’t have to elaborate. However, Tavia was skilled at getting people to open up, and the girls soon knew not only how good Harry was at kissing but also the snogging skills of several Ravenclaw fifth-years, one of Hufflepuffs seventh years and Ron Weasley. Hermione looked as though she wanted to slap Lavender but possibly only Katie noticed this because the rest of them were too busy exclaiming over the fact that Demelza had attempted to kiss Colbert Bradley during Herbology and ended up with a nasty case of hives from falling backwards into an unidentified plant in Greenhouse Three when Colbert tried to spin them around and press her against a potting bench.
“You’re so lucky Ginny,” Vicky sighed once the laughter had died down. “Harry is about the cutest boy at Hogwarts.”
“I’m not going out with him because he’s cute though,” Ginny said, tugging on the end of the plait she’d twisted her hair into as they’d been talking. “I really care about him. I always have.” She trailed off and Katie wondered if she was feeling self-conscious. Ginny’s crush on Harry when was younger hadn’t exactly been a secret. Katie crossed the room from where she had been perched on the windowsill, to sit next to Ginny on her bed.
“We know,” Katie said, pulling Ginny into a one-armed hug. “He’s a pretty special guy and you are perfect for him.” Hermione nodded and Ginny blushed again.
“I’m pretty sure my brothers are going to be insufferable though,” Ginny said, suddenly morose. “They would always tease me something fierce about Harry when I was little. This will probably give them extra ammunition!”
“Not Ron,” Hermione said, smirking a little. “He won’t want to dwell on it at all!”
“He did look a little stunned,” offered Parvati.
“Like he was gonna vomit!” added Vicky cheerfully.
“Didya see Dean?” Demelza giggled. “He clearly thought he was in with another chance until Harry Potter swooped in!” She and Vicky made kissing noises until Ginny blushed even harder and threw a pillow at Demelza’s head.
The girls stayed up a little too late that night, going to bed only when the hot chocolate was gone and only a few Pumpkin Pasties remained of the feast Katie had pulled out of her trunk earlier that evening. It was worth it though, Katie thought as she snuggled under her bedcovers a little after midnight. Her recovery had been long and at times a little lonely, but things felt more normal than they had been in a while, and everybody needed normal and a bit of snogging in their lives.
~*~
Dear Fred,
What happens at Hogwarts, stays at Hogwarts.
Love, Katie
Back to index
Chapter 2: The one with the photographs
Author's Notes: Well, I got half of it done by the deadline. Oh well ... Why do they make me go to that place called work?
There's two more chapters to go and we'll get there eventually for anyone still playing along at home. Hope you enjoy your visit with these two characters. Also a little Harry Ginny moment for you ;)
Dear Neville,
Don’t look at Ron and don’t look at Ginny. Just focus on your breakfast and act like you always get owl post from us. We need you, Neville. You’re our man on the inside. (We tried the girls and got nowhere.) But you, Neville, you we can rely on.
Something is weird. And we know you know what it is. Ron is probably going to get annoyed in a minute — just so you’re ready — but you can ignore him. What we need to know is who’s hooked up at Hogwarts?
It’s a marketing thing. Summer product lines … you know. Business stuff. You’d be really helping us out. Any Ravenclaws getting randy? Anyone Slytherin with each other (if you know what we mean)? Gryffindors grabbing each other? Hufflepuffs … well doing the things Puffs do (whatever that is)?
It’s spring — I’m sure there’s lots to tell! So, fill us in, there’s a good lad!
Your humble servants,
Fred and George Weasley
P.S. We’ll send you goods for information — some Skiving Snackboxes for getting out of Defence with Snape? Or some ten-second pimple vanisher? You tell us, we deliver!
~*~
Neville ducked just in time to miss the crumpled parchment Ron threw across the table. He mentally thanked the Weasley twins for their timely warning.
“What’s wrong?” Hermione asked irritably.
“Fred and George are what’s wrong,” Ron growled. “So much for helping a brother out. You know, you lot are lucky you don’t have any siblings!” He pointed his fork at Hermione, Neville and newly arrived Harry who frowned at being glared at simply for sitting down.
“Well, I did grow up with my cousin,” Harry said, as through trying to regain some credibility. Ron glowered at Harry before turning to scan the entrance to the Great Hall.
“Where’s Ginny?” he asked gruffly, turning to look pointedly at the empty space next to Harry.
“With Luna,” Harry said simply, grabbing the plate of eggs from the middle of the table.
“Oh, you’d know,” Ron said darkly.
“You asked me!” Harry said impatiently.
“So, what’s up with Fred and, um George?” Neville asked timidly, wondering if he could begin to possibly make sense of the letter they had sent him.
“Betrayal,” Ron said cryptically. He glared at Harry who pointedly ignored him and began spooning eggs onto his plate.
“Oh, well, er that doesn’t sound good,” Neville offered, realising he wasn’t going to get any sense out of Ron.
“Were you trying to get free Wheezes again?” Hermione asked.
“No!” Ron said, just a little too quickly. He busied himself with loading up his breakfast plate with seconds and glowering at Harry.
“What?” Harry eventually said. “What are you looking at me like that for?” Ron just grunted and looked down at his breakfast. Harry sighed and, putting his cutlery on his plate, he pushed it aside, leaning across the table towards Ron.
“Are we going to have a problem?” Harry said in a low tone. “I thought you understood.” He looked pleadingly at Ron who eventually looked Harry in the eye.
“It’s just weird,” he said plaintively, scrunching his nose up. Harry laughed and Ron reached out and pushed Harry’s face away. “Piss off.” Harry pulled his plate back in front of him and began eating with gusto.
Neville began eating too, still pondering the letter from the Weasley twins. He found it difficult to believe that they wanted information — from him — about Hogwarts romances for … research. Despite coming close once, he’d never really even snogged a girl. He and Susan Bones had gotten cosy once during an extra Herbology session last year, but he hadn’t had the nerve to kiss her or anything even resembling holding her hand. Probably just as well, he didn’t fancy her anymore. Still, it’s not like Ron had really fancied Lavender, had he? Holding hands and snogging hadn’t done Ron any harm exactly, had it? Except for the Hermione thing, but they’d probably work that out eventually …right?
Plus, no one was going to be stuck forever with the first person they kissed, were they? If that were true, he’d be stuck with Abigail Hornblower, the fourth year Hufflepuff who had followed him around for a month after the Yule Ball in his fourth year and tricked him into standing under some mistletoe in the middle of January. By Neville’s estimation he’d been that bad at it, he’d turned her completely off, because after his hasty peck on the lips she’d taken up with Cooper Thornton in her own year and stopped following him altogether.
Neville unconsciously put his fingers to his lips, wondering if he should try hanging out with Susan again or just give up on girls forever. It’s not like he looked like Harry, with his hair and his height and his … Quidditch muscles. Neville looked down at his own pudgy stomach and suddenly pushed his bacon away. Maybe he needed an exercise regime. His gaze drifted over to the Huffepuff table where Susan was talking animatedly to Hannah Abbott. They both kept giggling and looking towards Harry who was unconcernedly eating scrambled eggs and reading the back of a MagiPuffs box.
Scanning the Great Hall Neville noticed a few people looking at Harry. In addition to Susan and Hannah giggling, Cho Chang and a few of her friends were whispering and shooting furtive looks in Harry’s direction. Draco Malfoy appeared to be ignoring Pansy Parkinson and Daphne Greengrass who were earnestly telling him something while also shooting sly looks at Harry. Even Professor McGonagall was looking at Harry as she ate her kippers. She had that fond look she often bestowed upon his dorm mate and Neville assumed the castle gossip had made its way to the staff room. Snape certainly looked more sour than usual, and Professor Dumbledore looked a little more twinkly this morning.
Neville sighed, still hungry now that he had given up on the bacon. He eyed the dry toast warily, still trying to work out what to tell the twins about ‘hooking up at Hogwarts’ when the doors to the Great Hall creaked and the noise level suddenly dropped. A large number of students swivelled to look at who had entered, and an outbreak of nervous giggling rippled around the Great Hall when Luna came skipping in trailed closely by Ginny Weasley.
For her part Ginny seemed completely unconcerned that she was now the centre of attention and she waved merrily at Luna before continuing down the length of the Gryffindor table.
“Good morning!” Ginny sang as she slid into the seat beside Harry, whose face lit up with a wide smile. Ron grunted and Hermione muttered a short greeting, her nose buried in a dusty brown book.
“Hi,” Harry said, his breakfast now forgotten. Ginny leaned over and pressed a kiss to his lips before busying herself with eggs and toast. Neville could practically hear half the Great Hall sigh dreamily and the pained noise of strangulation from Ron.
“Did I miss the mail?” Ginny asked.
“Your Seeker Weekly is here,” Hermione said, fishing it out from under her book. “No letters though.”
“You sh’robably write un,” Ron said, having apparently regained his appetite as he spoke around a mouthful of toast. “Y’know, to home.”
“Since when are you the letters-to-home inquisitor?” Ginny retorted.
“Don’t you think you need to make a little … update?” Ron waved his third piece of toast back and forth between Harry and Ginny and looked pointedly at where their hands lay entwined on the table. Neville thought Harry paled a little, but Ginny glared at Ron menacingly and brandishing her fork at her brother, launched into a tirade about minding his own business, her letter writing schedule and privacy.
“I’m just saying,” Ron argued when she took a breath, “that mum might be interested. And, well … she is your mother …” He trailed off, no doubt registering that he should have stopped talking quite some time ago.
“Don’t worry, Ron,” Ginny said in a low and somewhat dangerous tone. “I can take care of my own correspondence.”
“I’m just … saying …” Ron again trailed off breaking eye contact with Ginny before summoning his earlier discarded letter from Fred and George and shoving it into his pocket.
Ginny said nothing, just glared at Ron for several minutes as she slowly and deliberately ate her toast. Neville watched as Harry poured Ginny some juice and reached for the extra pot of marmalade, giving it to her with a shy peck on the cheek. Neville suddenly realised what Fred and George wanted to know.
And there was no way he was going to be the one to tell them!
~*~
Dear Colin,
Hiya mate! We’re after a bit of a favour seeing as you take most excellent photographs. We were wondering if you had any recent images of our dear siblings that you could send to us?
Obviously, we miss them terribly and we are hoping you can ease the pangs of distance by sending a few photos of Ron and Ginny … and whoever else they might … be with. You know, casual hangs … deep friendships. That sort of thing.
We’ll reimburse you of course.
Naturally we will!
Hope you can help us out!
Sincerely,
Fred and George Weasley
~*~
Colin looked up from his Charms homework and scanned the Common Room. It was mostly empty but for a few Gryffindors who were either as behind in their studies as he was or hated sunshine and pleasant weather. He guessed Mildred Garrick fit into the latter category. She was sitting in one of the overstuffed armchairs near the entrance to the girl’s dormitory. She looked as unhappy as she usually did and glowered at anyone who smiled vaguely in her direction. Everyone else seemed to have their head buried in a textbook or was madly scribbling on parchment, especially fifth and seventh years. Colin sighed. He wasn’t a huge fan of OWLS himself, but he’d promised his mother he would try his hardest at school and set a good example for Dennis.
It had been a long day. Snape was in a filthy mood, the seventh years in an almost filthier mood and even Professor Flitwick had squeaked angrily at the fifth year OWL students who generally hadn’t met the requirements of the last essay he’d set. Peeves had pelted Colin with water balloons outside the fifth-floor bathroom and he’d missed lunch trying to finish his Arithmancy assignment. Colin checked his watch, still almost two hours until tea. His stomach rumbled hungrily as if to remind Colin of what he already knew. Setting aside his Charms homework for the moment, as his ability to concentrate was severely compromised, Colin propped his chin on his hands and indulged in people watching.
He really enjoyed just observing people, seeing what made them tick, watching things unfold. Colin often knew things before other people and was rarely surprised about the goings on at Hogwarts. No one expected it of course, but Colin also knew how to keep a confidence and when to keep something to himself. He hadn’t told anyone when he’d seen the looks Farrah Westbrook and Digby Yorke were giving each other during Herbology. He knew no one would easily accept a Slytherin and a Gryffindor going out and so, apparently, did they because Colin never saw either of them act on it. They did stare longingly at each other for months though.
Right now, he could see Gleda Berkley and Bronson Rutland eyeing each other across the room. Gleda appeared to be reading an Ancient Runes textbook, but her eyes weren’t following text on the page, they kept flicking to Bronson who was sitting by the portrait hole tapping his quill against the parchment, eyes skimming past Gleda every minute or so. Colin wondered how long before their eyes would meet and what they would do about it. Mildred Garrick was still glowering at anyone who so much as looked at her and Katie and Tavia were almost buried in parchment at a table under one of the windows. Katie looked much more stressed but that was to be expected given how much school she had missed. Colin knew how she felt. He missed months and months of his first year. At least exams had been cancelled that year.
Jocelyn Wordsworth and Tate Stanley sat together on one of the sofas in the middle of the room. They weren’t going out as far as Colin knew but they had been circling each other since Easter. They sat together at all their meals and during Quidditch games, played Exploding Snap in the evenings and studied together. They weren’t doing much studying at the moment though. Colin wondered if this was their moment. Maybe they’d be buoyed by this weekend’s events. Harry and Ginny had certainly set the gossip mill running faster than Colin had ever seen it — despite the fact that no one had to speculate, given half Gryffindor House had witnessed things first-hand. There was little true speculation, but the Hogwarts female population was certainly very interested in all the details.
Colin knew the details of course. He’d been watching Harry and Ginny the way he watched most people. Harry had it so bad but watching Ginny realise it had been some parts frustrating and some parts amusing. Colin was glad they’d finally gotten together. During the last two days they were both happier than he’d ever seen them. Harry spent Monday walking Ginny to all her classes and Ginny seemed to dance through the day as though walking on air. A permanent smile was etched on both their faces and Harry moved with an ease Colin had never seen before.
Eyes roving the Common Room, Colin realised that Harry and Ginny were both in the room, on the coveted sofa by the fire. A haphazardly stacked pile of textbooks lay on the floor to one side and parchment was draped over one arm of the sofa, pooling on the floor. Ginny had twisted her hair up on top of her head and secured it with her wand and was gesturing animatedly at the fireplace, the pile of textbooks and the window. The low firelight glinted off her hair and made her face glow.
It would make a great photograph.
Colin reached into his book bag and fished out his camera. Framing Ginny in his viewfinder he decided to experiment with different angles. Slowly getting up he crept closer towards the sofa by the fireplace. He was close enough to hear what Harry and Ginny were saying but neither of them noticed he was there. Harry was sprawled on the sofa while Ginny spun around on the hearthrug, gesturing animatedly and replaying the moment she caught the Snitch once more.
“It was great playing Seeker,” Ginny said, “but I’m definitely a Chaser.”
“You’re an excellent Chaser,” Harry replied, dragging a small ottoman closer to the sofa and propping his feet on it.
“You’re biased,” Ginny said, propping her hands on her hips and smiling at him fondly.
“I’m the Quidditch Captain,” Harry said with a shrug. “I think I know who my best Chaser is.” Ginny laughed and Harry grinned at her.
“I wish I could just do that and not do this stupid Charms work …”
“Which team do you want to try out for?” Harry asked her. She tilted her head and looked at him for a moment.
“Team?” she asked. Harry sat up straighter.
“Don’t you want to play Quidditch?” he asked, a hint of doubt in his voice. Colin was impressed. Not many people knew that about Ginny. She didn’t talk about it much, fearing others would tease her, especially her brothers.
“Well … yeah,” Ginny said, “but how did you know that?” Harry shrugged.
“I listen,” he said. “You … say stuff. I dunno.” He looked uncertainly at her for a moment.
“I guess I’m not used to people … boys listening to me,” Ginny said softly. Harry sat up straighter, earnestly.
“I’ll listen,” he said, reaching for her hand.
“I know,” Ginny said, squeezing his hand but then dropping it and turning away.
“Hey …” Harry trailed off. He didn’t move from the couch. Colin was impressed. If that had been Dean, he would have leapt up immediately and tried to make her talk or distract her with … physical attention. Michael Corner (git) would probably have laughed at her.
“I would never let Ron see …” Ginny said after a minute or two, turning around slowly. She looked uncertain. Harry sat unmoving, waiting. Ginny sighed. “I would never let Ron see how much it means to me that he’s … okay with this.” She gestured between her and Harry.
“Ron’s okay,” Harry said, “with this.” He flicked his hand between them once and reached for her hand again.
“Not that it matters,” Ginny said, a hint of doubt in her voice.
“Not that it matters,” said Harry firmly. Ginny smiled tentatively. Her guards were all down and Colin could see that she was battling with being truly vulnerable.
“I can handle the teasing,” she said, suddenly fierce, “but it would be nice if … if they didn’t tease me about this.” Harry tugged her slightly closer.
“If you want me to protect you,” Harry said, eyes twinkling with supressed laughter. “I will, but I know you can handle it.” Ginny looked at him seriously and reached over to run her fingers through his hair.
“I can handle it,” Ginny said softly. “Thank you. And so can you — when they find out.” Harry laughed.
“They don’t scare me,” he said. Ginny looked at him with one raised eyebrow.
“Six brothers and you’re not scared?” Ginny said playfully. “Why you are brave, sir!” Harry shook his head.
“Now your mother,” he said, biting back a laugh, “she scares me.”
“Pffffft,” Ginny said, flicking Harry on the nose. “You’re her favourite and you know it!” Harry grinned, a smug look on his face.
Ginny bent down and pressed her lips to Harry’s. When she straightened up her hair was slightly tousled, and her lips swollen. She was smiling dreamily, and Colin raised his camera, shifting slightly to line up his shot so the firelight caught her hair, and her eyes were in focus.
Satisfied, Colin went to develop the photo before dinner. It turned out brilliantly although photo Harry slumped behind the back of the couch and all you could see of him was his hand, clutched in Ginny’s. Colin smiled to himself. Fred and George would need to get someone else to do their dirty work. He hurried to the owlery to send the photo along with the adorable shot he had gotten of Ron playing with Hermione’s hair down by the lake at lunchtime yesterday.
~*~
Dear Mr Weasley and Mr Weasley,
I recently took these two shots of your beloved siblings and hope they satisfy any longings you may have.
Pleased to be of service,
Yours,
Colin Creevey
Back to index
Chapter 3: The one with all the gossip
Author's Notes: Will they find out ... ever?
Dear Messrs Weasley and Weasley,
I’m sure you can appreciate that owing to student confidentiality, I am not at liberty to discuss matters pertaining to students unless it is with their legal guardian. I am therefore unable to discuss either your younger brother or younger sister and thus, I cannot help you.
Hoping you are well,
Professor Minerva McGonagall
Deputy Headmistress
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
~*~
“Where’s the loyalty,” Fred complained, crumpling McGonagall’s letter and lobbing it towards the wastepaper bin behind the counter. It did not land in the wastepaper bin. George watched it roll under a shelf and shrugged.
“Was worth a try,” he said, trying to hook the wadded parchment back out with his left foot before toppling off the stool he had been sitting on and nearly falling on the floor. He caught himself on one of the shelves and looked up at Fred sheepishly. Fred rolled his eyes but was undeterred from his complaint.
“We brought large amounts of joy and mirth to Gryffindor House for six years,” he said peevishly. “You’d think she’d be grateful and do us a favour every now and then.”
“You know she’s a bit of a rule follower,” George replied, throwing the wadded parchment into the wastepaper basket, having finally fished it out from under the shelf behind the counter.
“She knows something,” Fred replied. “I know she does.” George nodded in acquiescence.
“She has to,” he agreed. “She’s far too fond of knowing things to not know!”
Both Fred and George glared at the photograph of Ginny that Colin had sent. It was pinned above the register, and they had stared at it repeatedly over the last day or so since it had arrived. Neither twin had yet managed to decisively figure out who was holding Ginny’s hand. Photo Ginny smiled, flicked her hair and laughed over and over as the hand tugged on hers and her face softened as she smiled at the wizard to whom it belonged. It was driving Fred and George mad.
“She’s a lucky one,” Verity commented as she passed by the register and looked briefly at the photograph of Ginny.
“Huh?” George questioned, frowning at their shop assistant.
“Your sister,” Verity said, nodding towards the photograph as she dumped the armfuls of stock she was carrying on the counter. “Just been properly kissed.” Fred looked at her askance.
“How can you tell?” George demanded, peering at the photograph closely.
“How can you not tell?” Verity retorted. “The dreamy eyes, the lips, the sex hair …”
“Sex hair?” Fred squawked. “She isn’t … she didn’t … she …” He spluttered ineffectually for a moment before crossing his arms and glaring alternately at the photograph and Verity.
“Well of course I don’t mean actual sex,” Verity said, rolling her eyes, “but someone’s been having a healthy snog in the Common Room.”
“How do you know that’s the Common Room?” Fred demanded. “You’re a ‘Puff!”
“Sure, focus on that,” George muttered, still peering at the photograph as if he could read the name of the wizard whose hand Ginny was holding.
“Plush sofas by a fireplace and red and gold tapestries in the background — puhlease,” Verity said, rolling her eyes. The trio were silent for a moment and Verity returned to sorting the stock she’d brought to the counter.
“Is it Seamus?” George demanded suddenly. Fred jumped. George continued. “Like Verity said, that’s Gryffindor Tower. Who else could it be? Who was that kid you said the other day? Alistair? Alfred? Albus?”
“That’s Dumbledore,” Fred said wearily.
“That’s never Dumbledore!” George said, sitting bolt upright, scandalised.
“Not the wizard in the photo,” Fred said in exasperation. “Dumbledore’s Albus, not some spotty Gryffindor kid!”
“There could be a kid called Albus!” George protested.
“No one is going to call their kid Albus,” Fred retorted.
“More likely than Nerdane!”
“It’s unisex!”
“Please tell me you’re not intending to name your firstborn Nerdane,” Verity said her eyes holding hint of horror.
“Better than Albus,” Fred argued. Verity shook her head, muttering something indistinguishable under her breath. The bell on the door jangled and the accompanying gust of wind fluttered the photograph as Ginny smiled dreamily once more. George looked towards the entrance to the shop to see who had entered.
“Bill!” George called, greeting his older brother enthusiastically. “How goes it?”
“It goes,” Bill said wearily, shuffling across the floor and leaning on the counter.
“Goblins working you hard?” Fred enquired.
“Or Fleur?” George said with a leer. Bill flipped him off.
“Some of us are concerned with the war,” Bill said seriously. “We can’t all play about with tricks and toys.”
“Hey!” Fred protested. He glanced at Verity who had moved to the back of the store to stock some shelves and lowered his voice. “We manufacture supplies for the Order, and you know it.”
“I ‘spose,” Bill muttered, grudgingly acknowledging his brothers’ contribution.
“Why are you here?” George asked bluntly.
“Mum asked me to drop in actually,” Bill said, picking up a trick wand from the barrel in front of the counter. He waved it tentatively and it changed into a rubber trout. “I think she wants me to check that you are behaving yourself.”
“What makes her think we are not?” George asked in an affronted tone. Verity, who was straightening the Wonderwitch products nearby, snorted.
“Something McGonagall said, I gather,” Bill replied, testing a different trick wand, and ending up with a rubber chicken.
“Oh,” Fred said darkly, “her.” Bill looked at him curiously.
“I wonder if she’s told Mum,” George said, sounding disgruntled.
“Doubtful,” Fred said in a thoughtful tone. “Mum never found out about you and Angie in the broom cupboard, fifth year.”
“That we know of.” The twins fell silent, brows furrowed. George recommenced peering at the photograph of Ginny above the register.
“What are you talking about,” Bill eventually asked, a hint of exasperation in his voice and a pile of rubber animals slowly turning back into wands in front of him on the counter.
“We asked McGonagall a question,” Fred began. “A very important question it was.”
“Super important,” George affirmed.
“And she refused to answer it,” Fred complained.
“What was the question?” Bill scooped the trick wands back into the barrel and folded his arms across his chest. George pulled the photograph of Ginny down from where it had been spellotaped above the register and shoved it under Bill’s nose.
“Who is that wizard?” he demanded. “We asked McGonagall but she wouldn’t tell us.”
“It’s probably that Dean kid,” Bill said with a shrug, flicking the photograph back in George’s direction.
“Dean Thomas is black,” Fred said bluntly. “That is not Dean.”
“Who is that?” George demanded. Bill shrugged unconcernedly.
“Do you not even notice the sex hair?” Fred asked, waving the photo under Bill’s nose once more. “Who is giving our baby sister sex hair?” Bill just laughed.
“Does it matter?”
“Does it matter?” Fred repeated indignantly. “Does it matter … of course it matters! We need to warn him!” George snickered and Bill rolled his eyes.
“And here I thought you were worried about your sister’s virtue,” Verity said, shaking her head as she tossed a box of Fainting Fancies on the counter.
“While I am concerned that she’s going through boys a bit fast,” George said, putting the photograph of Ginny back above the register. “Fred is actually just a gossip monger.”
“I’m concerned!” Fred protested.
“Concerned with gossip,” George said.
“I’m right though, aren’t I?” Fred said with a hint of smugness. “I said it wasn’t Dean.”
“How did you even know Ginny was … whatever it is she’s doing with that wizard?” Bill asked.
“Snogging,” Fred said promptly. “Ron told us, but he didn’t tell us who with.”
“Nor did Katie, or Neville, or Colin, or Professor McGonagall,” George said, counting each Gryffindor with his fingers and holding his left hand up, fingers splayed.
“Have you asked Ginny?” Verity queried from the display of Skiving Snackboxes where she was rearranging the product so the larger boxes were at eye level. George and Fred looked at each other sheepishly. Bill laughed and tossed one of the Canary Creams sitting in a bowl on the counter towards his brothers before turning and striding towards the door.
“Let me know what you find out, Gossip Queen!” he called as he slipped out the door and back into Diagon Alley. Fred flipped him off, but his thoughts were whirring madly.
~*~
Dearest Favourite Sister,
It occurs to us that we have not written to you nearly as much as we should while you are sequestered away from the bosom of your family pursuing your education. Hence, we have decided to write and enquire as to your personal contentment and general wellbeing. We hope you are studying hard and also keeping our legacy alive by not studying too hard. I know it is a tricky balance but if anyone can do it, you can.
We trust Quidditch has gone well. We heard from Mum you were playing Seeker owing to the actual Seeker being unable to play (what on earth does he get up to, we often wonder).
Obviously, we, your favourite brothers, are well, having been successfully engaged in activities of a business nature. Do you require any items from our range? Any Skiving needs? Or perhaps pimple vanisher? Helps with the wizards and all. How are the wizards at Hogwarts? Anything of any interest to report? We trust you are behaving yourself, but you’d tell us if anyone … wasn’t — wouldn’t you?
Let us know how things are and any product is yours (except those Wonderwitch love potions — you still can’t have one of those) especially if you tell your friends where you got it!
All our love,
F&G, Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes, Proprietors.
~*~
Minerva McGonagall looked out over the Great Hall. She had arrived early for breakfast supervision and was ready to tuck into the fine spread the house elves had prepared. Truly fond of her job, she enjoyed watching over her charges and seeing as they grew and developed. She knew she often did a terrible job of hiding who her favourites were, but she did try. Albus was never fooled, but he never said anything either. She suspected he had his own favourites.
Minerva watched as Neville Longbottom made his way to the Gryffindor table and sat down at a seat near the teacher’s table. He was alone as he often was but he was humming as he walked and sat down cheerfully, reaching for the pumpkin juice and a large platter of toast. Neville had worried her when he’d first arrived. He had been such a timid, pudgy little thing, not at all suited to living away from home and terrified of his own shadow. Now he had filled out nicely, was quite a bit taller and had made quite a name for himself with Professor Sprout. He would do quite nicely indeed.
Colin Creevey made quite an entrance as Minerva contemplated Neville’s future. He’d never quite grown out of the bounciness he had arrived with and was still as eager as ever to learn about the wizarding world. Minerva held great fears for his safety however because he was Muggleborn. The war was coming, it was coming closer and faster, and it was, as Sirius had said, just like last time. She worried for all her Muggleborn students, but especially Colin because he was just so innocent despite no longer being eleven. Colin reached a seat in the middle of the table and swung his book bag onto the seat, perching beside it and pouring himself a bowl of Cheeri-Owls. He positively beamed at anyone who wandered by, and Millicent Bulstrode frowned at him in confusion when he greeted her with a cheery wave.
A group of second year girls caught Minerva’s eye next. They were giggling and skipping as they made their way to the very end of the Gryffindor table near the doors, keeping an eye on them as they filled their plates with bacon and eggs. They were obviously waiting for something although Minerva had not yet worked out what exactly that might be. A group of older Ravenclaw girls were likewise occupied halfway up the Ravenclaw table and the scattering of Hufflepuffs also included some rather giggly girls as well. Minerva frowned slightly, trying to pin down what was going on.
Casting an eye over the Slytherin table only a few girls were whispering together, mostly the sixth and seventh years. Just then Luna Lovegood skipped into the Great Hall. Minerva pursed her lips together. She really was fond of the girl, but she did make some rather odd choices and it rather felt like she was going to make one today if the glint in her eye was anything to go by. Luna often looked dreamy but today she looked mischievous which was enough to make Minerva very wary indeed.
It was difficult not to be fond of Weasleys and Ron was no exception. Minerva watched as he loped into the Great Hall next, shirt only half buttoned and tie hanging around his neck loosely. His robes had obviously been thrown on in haste, threatening to fall off his left shoulder. Hurrying to Neville, Ron threw himself onto a seat opposite and started filling his plate with enough food to feed an army. Minerva watched with exasperation as he started to speak to Neville, mouth full, spraying bits of egg across the table. Neville grimaced and gestured rudely at him. Minerva didn’t even bother reprimanding him.
The Great Hall was filling up. Draco Malfoy had slid into the seat next to Pansy Parkinson and was pretending to listen to her. It was blatantly obvious to Minerva that he had zero interest in Pansy’s prattle. She wondered how long before Pansy realised that. Katie Bell and her Ravenclaw friend Leanne, book bags overflowing with textbooks and parchment, hurried into the Great Hall talking animatedly. Tavia Ashley and Kimberley Enfield trailed behind them, the seventh years all looking rather frazzled. Seamus and Dean, heads together sat down at the Gryffindor table and Minerva winced when she saw Seamus cast a warming charm on some toast which immediately began smouldering. Hermione Granger, hair tamed into a ponytail, arrived looking somewhat disgruntled. Minerva saw her face soften as she found Ron Weasley and hurried to sit with him. They were an unlikely pair, Minerva thought, but she had a feeling …
A hush fell over the Great Hall suddenly as it had for the past two mornings now. A few of the younger girls watched in awe as Harry Potter strode in, quite alone but still creating quite a stir. A group of third year Hufflepuffs started giggling and Luna called out Harry’s name and waved to him from the Ravenclaw table. Harry seemed quite impervious to all the fuss as he reached Ron and Hermione in a few long strides. He really had grown up into a nice young man, Minerva thought. He’d been far too small when he’d first arrived but now, he was looking far more like the man he was always destined to be.
It seemed Harry was the subject of the giggling girls as they all seemed to follow him, heads swivelling as he walked, the giggling rippling around the Great Hall like a wave. Minerva wasn’t stupid. She knew as well as anyone what the gossip was. She’d also seen it with her own eyes. That Harry Potter was going out with Ginny Weasley pleased Minerva, and she was sure it pleased Albus too. Severus however was quite irascible about the entire subject. The staff had discussed it over supper on Monday evening.
“Have you heard the latest?” Pomona Sprout said, a steaming mug of hot chocolate in one hand and a butternut snap in the other.
“The latest what?” Horace Slughorn asked eagerly, leaning forward and spilling his tea.
“Romance,” giggled Pomona. Minerva had to push down the urge to scold her.
“I di hear a rumour about young Harry,” Horace said. “Is there any truth to the rumours?”
“What rumour would that be?” enquired Albus as he all but glided into the room.
“Harry Potter is going out with Ginny Weasley,” squeaked Filius, trying to fetch a drink without falling off his chair. He eventually gave up and simply summoned a teacup and two lumps of sugar.
“Ah to be young and feel love’s keen sting,” Albus said, eyes twinkling merrily. He helped himself to shortbread and a cup of milky tea.
“When has Potter found the time to get himself a girlfriend?” Severus asked, lips quirked in a sneer.
“Yes, when indeed given how much unnecessary time he’s spending in detention.” Minerva was unable to bite back the retort, but she didn’t regret it. Albus raised one eyebrow at her, but she stared back at him defiantly.
“Well, is it true, Minerva?” Sybil Trelawney pressed, her eyes round as saucers behind her thick glasses.
“You don’t know?” Severus drawled. “Didn’t see it … coming?”
“Severus!” Minerva hissed. She turned to Sybil. “They are indeed an item.” Pomona sighed dreamily taking a bite of her biscuit.
“Ridiculous,” muttered Severus, rising to his feet and sweeping out of the staff room. Pomona Sprout watched him go and then turned to Minerva, pressing her for details which Minerva had been only too happy to provide.
Minerva was brought back to the present by the fluttering of owls which signalled the post had arrived. She had quite missed Ginny Weasley’s entrance, and the girl was now sitting next to Harry, chatting animatedly with her friends, and gesturing wildly at Ron every now and then. Letters and newspapers, parcels and magazines began to drop onto tables in front of students and the rustling of paper joined the clinking of cutlery and excited chatter of the Great Hall at breakfast.
Ginny Weasley, it seemed, had gotten a letter. Minerva sipped her tea and watched as Ginny read her letter, first rolling her eyes, then laughing and then frowning. Harry leaned over, talking quietly to her and Minerva watched as his face softened. It really was rather lovely to see Harry so happy and Ginny must be over the moon. She had held a torch for Harry for so long and it had been rather embarrassing at first, but Minerva had seen the pair of them mature so that this really was quite natural. Far, far more natural than whatever disaster Harry had attempted with Cho Chang. Minerva supressed a shudder. She had never really liked Dean for Ginny either, it just wasn’t quite right. As for Michael Corner, Minerva had been glad to see the back of him! Ron started to mime vomiting and Hermione slapped his arm. Ron jumped suddenly and Minerva wondered if his sister had sent a stinging hex his way. Impressive if she had, Minerva didn’t even see her move her wand. Not that she condoned unauthorised magic to attack people but who was she to get involved in sibling matters?
Ginny was now gesturing wildly at Ron, the letter in her hand fluttering madly. The stationery looked the same as a letter she had received herself just yesterday. If Minerva wasn’t mistaken, Fred and George Weasley had now gone straight to the source. A smile tugged at her lips. She wondered if the twins would be successful this time.
She did not like their chances.
~*~
Dear Weasley’s Wizard Wankers,
What has Ron told you?
Love Ginny
Back to index
Chapter 4: The one where everyone knows
Author's Notes: Sorry for the wait! I have managed to bring this little tale to it's conclusion. I believe Fred and George will wonder no longer! ANd we've all had a little fun along the way!
Dear Fred and George,
You really need to stop provoking Ron. It’s interfering with his studies! As for Ginny, don’t you think you should respect her privacy? Now it is getting to exam time so I’m not sure any of us have time for your shenanigans. No doubt you should concentrate on your business.
Respectfully yours,
Hermione Granger
~*~
“I knew it was a mistake to ask Granger,” George said with a smirk as Fred wadded up the parchment and lobbed it into the kitchen fireplace. It lit up with a tiny woosh and flames licked the chimney for a moment before it died down into a nondescript smoulder.
“Well, we’ve asked just about everyone else,” Fred muttered morosely, slouching in the chair at their mother’s kitchen table.
“I still can’t believe Ginny wouldn’t tell us anything!” George said leaning back and propping his feet on the table. “You’d think going straight to the source would work!” Fred shrugged.
Just then their mother came bustling in, levitating several bags of groceries which she deposited neatly on the table as she simultaneously took a swipe at George’s feet.
“It’s lovely to see you boys,” Molly Weasley said, pushing her hair out of her eyes, “but get your feet off the table - and sit up straight!” She directed her last comment to Fred who was still slouched in the chair. Fred scowled and shifted a bit before he narrowed his eyes at his mother.
“You know!” he exclaimed, pointing a finger at her. George quirked an eyebrow at his twin before swiping an orange from the top of one of the grocery bags.
“Know what, dear?” Molly said, in a breezy manner as she began flicking her wand at the contents of her grocery bags, sending bags of flour and sugar to the pantry and floating the fruit to a bowl on the table.
“You know who’s going out with Ginny,” Fred said in a low tone, his feet now planted firmly on the floor and his eyes narrowed at his mother. Molly Weasley turned to her son with an innocent look plastered on her face.
“It’s that Dean boy, isn’t it?” she said, flicking one hand casually towards nothing at all. “Talking about him all summer she was.”
“Yes, well, we’re nearly to the next summer and I think it’s someone new - in fact I know it is!”
“Don’t be silly dear!” Molly Weasley began folding the paper grocery bags meticulously. “Now are you boys staying for tea?”
Fred continued glowering at his mother as he grudgingly prepared vegetables and set the table for the evening meal. She kept up a running commentary about the chickens and their laying habits, old Mrs Wintergarden in the village and her failing eyesight and the new flowerbeds she was planning for the side of the house. Fred thought he might die of boredom before he starved to death as he waited for his father to join them for dinner which was sitting quite nicely under warming charms and making his mouth water.
“So, I said to Mrs Wintergarden that I would probably buy the snapdragons, even though they’d be more work, but she swears by nasturtiums,” Molly was saying as Fred slowly went insane, “but nasturtiums look like pumpkins that forgot to become pumpkins, so I don’t know about that at all! I’d like some tulips, but I’ve quite missed the boat on those.”
“Mum,” Fred interjected, but she cut him off with an impatient wave of her hand.
“I don’t know why I bother asking her you know; she always has something quite contrary to say!”
Fred just shook his head resignedly and waited for his father to come home. If he couldn’t get a straight answer out of his mother, he’d at least stay for some delicious tea. He sent some evil thoughts George’s way since his twin had escaped to ‘check on the chickens’ several minutes earlier when their mother was still lamenting the poor laying habits of said fowl.
Amazed that he wasn’t comatose by the time his father arrived home, Fred leapt up as Arthur Weasley hung his hat by the door and pulled out chairs for his parents, urging them to sit and hastily enquiring about his father’s day at The Ministry in an effort to talk about anything other than the best manure for bulbs and how to plant carnations.
“Young Angus Trottersby got himself into quite the state today,” Arthur said in a rather sympathetic tone as he sat down in front of a brimming plate of stew. “This looks amazing Molly, dear! Yes, yes, Young Angus somehow got himself stuck in the wastepaper bin! I mean I’m not quite sure why he though putting his head inside it would help, but that’s what he did!”
Fred had a generally low opinion of Angus Trottersby, being a rather dim Slytherin in the year above him, and if Fred wasn’t mistaken, he’d been at Hogwarts for at least 8 years before being bundled off to The Ministry to work in a series of menial jobs. While Fred was rather sorry for his father having to take a turn with Angus, he just couldn’t listen to the minutiae of his parents’ day any longer.
“So, dad, what’s the latest?” Fred asked. “Anything to report in the misuse department? Maybe you’ve heard something crazy doing the rounds? Heard from Ron or Ginny lately? Just … you know, what’s news?” Fred spooned some stew into his mouth and looked expectantly at his father. He thought he heard George mutter ‘subtle’ but decided to ignore his twin who was singularly unhelpful in his current quest of finding out who Ginny’s boyfriend was.
“Myron Tuffin has been making soup bowls dance!” Arthur Weasley said excitedly. “He’s a wizard down in the southern part of Wales and it’s just the soup bowls. It really is quite extraordinary. Not the cereal bowls or the sugar bowls “ just the soup bowls! The Muggles in the pub he was staying at were quite shocked. We had to do loads of Obliviation …” Arthur trailed off tutting slightly as he ate some more stew and Fred thought he would go quite mad.
“Not the soup bowls!” George exclaimed in mock horror. He shook his head sadly at Fred who kicked him under the table. George glowered at him as their mother launched into another monologue about nasturtiums, snapdragons and Mr Postlethwaite’s superb greenhouses.
There were entirely too many people in that village, growing far too many flowers Fred decided. As for idiots who made Muggle crockery dance, Fred had no time for them either.
“I know you know,” Fred interrupted, done with talk of hollyhocks and salt and pepper shakers that tangoed. “Ginny has a new boyfriend and I know you know, and no one will tell us but you have to! It’s your duty as our parents! We don’t keep secrets in this family, do we? No, we don’t, so I for one think that this information should not be kept secret a moment longer!”
Arthur Weasley looked Fred up and down, spooned some more stew into his mouth and swallowed it slowly. Fred stared at his father and made an impatient gesture with his spoon. Merlin, anyone would think this was information guarded by Unspeakables!
“Who have you asked?” Arthur said eventually.
“Everyone!” Fred cried impatiently.
“It’s true,” George chimed in. “Most of Gryffindor House - even Professor McGonagall!”
“Colin and Katie,” Fred said impatiently, “and Ginny and Neville - no one will tell us anything. Not even Ron and Hermione!”
“Have you tried Harry?” Arthur said, his eyes twinkling slightly. Fred narrowed his eyes and turned to George.
“Now, why didn’t we think of that?” he asked.
“I didn’t think of it because I don’t care as much because I’m not a gossip queen,” George replied with a shrug. Fred just ate his stew quietly, thinking. Arthur Weasley chuckled to himself as he ate his stew and asked Molly for seconds.
Dear Mum,
Ron might have filled you in already, but I wanted to write and tell you myself. We won the Quidditch Cup! I had to play Seeker because the Captain got himself detention again. You might have heard about that too. It meant Dean was on the team and that was a bit awkward - since we’ve broken up and everything, but we managed! We won the Cup!
There was something else I wanted to tell you. I’m not sure if Ron’s told you this part - probably not because he swears he vomits if he has to think about it - but I know he’s secretly pleased, deep, deep down inside … somewhere. Right after the match, and after his stupid detention, Harry finally kissed me!
You were right, Mum. I can’t believe you noticed it at Christmas! I honestly didn’t believe you then, but you were right. He just kissed me, right there in front of everyone! We’re going out now and oh Mum, he’s just so lovely. He listens to me, and we talk about Quidditch all the time and he likes to brush my hair. He saved me bacon one morning when I was late to breakfast, and he walks me to classes all the time. I sound ridiculous, I know …
I can’t quite believe it though - Harry … and me! I know Fred and George are asking everyone who I’m going out with but don’t tell them - it would be too easy! Let them sweat!
I’ll write more soon - Hermione’s really making me study for OWLS!
Love, Ginny
~*~
Harry Potter twirled his quill absently, his mind not on his potions essay at all, having wandered quite far away, reliving a particularly pleasant moment he’d spent with Ginny in a deserted alcove off the sixth floor.
“Get that look off your face,” Ron grumbled as he scratched away at his parchment.
“What look?”
“That one!” Ron pointed the end of his quill ineffectually at Harry’s face. “The one that says you’re thinking about Ginny.” He grimaced.
“Shove off,” Harry said, flicking the quill back in Ron’s direction.
“It’s just weird,” Ron whined.
“Yes, so you’ve said,” Harry murmured. “Repeatedly.” He stretched his back and tilted his head to relieve the crick in his neck.
“Girls,” Ron muttered belligerently as he dipped his quill furiously into his inkpot.
“What about them?” Hermione said, dropping several books on the table. She’d clearly been in the library and Harry had no idea how she had carried so many books to the Gryffindor table where Harry and Ron were doing their homework. Ron ignored her, suddenly very studious. Harry craned his neck past Hermione, wondering who else had just come from the library.
Hermione smirked and stepped into Harry’s view. He glared at her.
“She’s still in the library,” Hermione said, crossing her arms, “and you need to finish your potions essay.”
“Ease off Hermione,” Ron protested. “A man’s gotta have some fun!” Harry shot Ron a look of disbelief. A minute ago Ron had threatened him with a quill for thinking about Ginny. Now he was all but insisting Harry actually think about Ginny. This whole situation was giving him whiplash.
Ron was okay with Harry going out with Ginny, then he was complaining about it, then he was covering for Harry when he was five minutes late to Herbology (having been in the sixth floor alcove), then he was complaining about Harry’s face, then he was telling him to ‘have fun’. Between Ron’s changing moods, the absolutely gushing letter Mrs Weasley had sent this morning and Hermione’s military-like precision with Ginny’s study time, Harry was exhausted.
“- and it’s not for long, we just need to get everyone through exams,” Hermione said, hands on hips. Harry had no idea what she’d been saying and while he didn’t particularly care, Hermione was going to make him care.
“It’s fine Hermione,” he said, turning back to his essay and studiously placing a full stop on the parchment, hoping it was indeed the end of a sentence. “I promise to do everything to support everyone taking exams but if I’m not mistaken, it’s time for tea now.” He rolled up his parchment and swept his quills into his bookbag just as plates appeared on the table, knocking Ron’s inkpot onto the floor.
“Every single time,” Ron grumbled as he dove under the table to pick it up. “Why don’t they warn us they’re about to set the table?”
“Why don’t you get your homework done before teatime?” Hermione said snippily.
“Some of us live our lives, Hermione,” Ron retorted, popping his head back above the table and tilting it at her pile of library books. “Unlike those of us who drag books around.” Harry did not wait for Hermione’s response. He wasn’t likely to get the attention of either of his best friends in the immediate future which suited him fine, if he could just find Ginny.
Scanning The Great Hall, Harry soon spotted Ginny walking past the end of the Ravenclaw table with Luna, swinging her bookbag and fiddling with the ends of her hair. Harry smiled and made his way over to Ginny, sliding one arm around her waist and pulling her close.
“Hello Harry,” Ginny said, beaming at him. Harry just smiled back.
“Well, it’s time for me to sit and eat,” Luna said without looking at all upset that she’d completely lost Ginny’s attention. “I’m sure you will want to snog.”
“Well, not right here, Luna!” Ginny said, laughing.
“But you do want to?” Luna asked, tilting her head to one side. Harry felt the blush creeping up his cheeks. He did want to, but he wasn’t sure he wanted Luna being so matter of fact about it. He liked Luna, he really did but sometimes he just wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Sure,” was all Ginny said, smiling.
“I hope you enjoy it,” Luna said solemnly as she waved and headed off towards the other end of the Ravenclaw table. Ginny giggled and leaned into Harry slightly.
“She was asking me before what snogging was like.”
“What did you tell her?” Harry asked, wondering how his girlfriend would describe what he could only describe as utterly brilliant.
“Sunshine,” said Ginny, entwining her hand with his and tugging him towards the Gryffindor table. “I wrote to Mum, told her about … well us. I think I sounded a bit soppy.” Ginny grimaced a little as she sat down, selecting a place far enough away from Ron that he wouldn’t hear them.
“Well, sunshine is a bit soppy,” Harry teased as he threw his book bag under the table and sat down in the seat next to her.
“I didn’t tell mum about the snogging!” Ginny protested. “Just, you know, suitable stuff, like walking me to class and talking. The sort of stuff that makes mums like their teenage daughter’s boyfriends!”
“Your mum already likes me,” Harry said smugly, leaning in and kissing Ginny’s cheek.
“Yes, let’s keep it that way,” murmured Ginny, a shy smile creeping across her features as Harry lingered close to her cheek and pressed another kiss near her ear.
The food and drinks arrived on the tables then and empty seat were filled, students all helping themselves to pumpkin juice and the meats and vegetables lining the tables. Harry had just finished heaping mashed potatoes on his plate when Hedwig swooped into the Great Hall along with several barn owls. Mail at the tea table wasn’t unheard of but Harry so rarely got any mail at all he had never had evening mail before. Hedwig had a letter clutched in her talons which she dropped at his plate and then landed on the back of Ginny’s chair, looking at Harry expectantly. Fishing a bit of sausage off his plate and holding it out to his owl, Harry frowned as he looked at the writing on the outside of the envelope.
“Oh, hello girl,” Ginny crooned and offered the owl a piece of sausage from her own plate. “Thanks for taking my mail. Did you bring back a letter from mum?” Hedwig nipped at Ginny’s fingers affectionately before she took flight, heading back to owlery.
“Well, that’s not your mother’s writing,” Harry said, brow furrowed as he attempted to decipher the lurid pink ink. Picking up the envelope he flipped it over and opened the flap, pulling out a single sheet of parchment, covered in the same pink scrawl. As he read the contents, Harry felt the same blush creep up his cheeks.
“Hoosit from?” Ginny asked, sounding uncannily like Ron, and if Harry was not mistaken, her mouth half full of food.
“Well, I think … I think Fred and George suspect something,” Harry said, handing her the letter which requested ‘every intelligence Harry possessed in the most important of matters including, but not limited to who was going out with Ginny’.
“What are you going to tell them?” Ginny asked, after reading the letter, which complained about the close-lipped Gryffindor House, Ron’s shunning of the sacred brotherly bond and their parents’ obsession with flowers and Angus Trottersby. Harry didn’t know what a nasturtium looked like, nor did he understand why Fred and George cared about Angus who Harry had once found during second year with his foot stuck in an urn near Greenhouse 3.
“They’ve probably suffered enough,” Harry mused, folding the letter and stuffing it back into the envelope. “Maybe I’ll give them a clue. Just a little one, or maybe a big one. We’ll see.” Ginny laughed and they continued eating and Harry stole more kisses before pudding.
~*~
Dear Fred and George,
I was going to tell you who’s going out with your sister, but my new girlfriend has a mean Bat-Bogey Hex, and you can’t snog your new girlfriend with bat bogeys flapping all over your face.
You know how it is.
Best wishes,
Harry Potter
P.S. Seamus Finnegan is the biggest gossip Gryffindor House has to offer. And he has no scruples. You should have asked him your intrusive and nosy question, and you would have known days ago. Back to index