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SIYE Time:10:36 on 18th October 2021


Faking It
By lilyevans_Jan30

- Text Size +

Category: First Week Challenge (2008-2)
Characters:None
Genres: Humor
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 32
Summary: ** Winner of Best Humor in the “First Week” Challenge **
It's the first week of school and Harry and Ginny already hate each other! Luckily, Mrs. Weasley has a solution, if Harry and Ginny don't kill each other first. Written for the First Week Challenge
Hitcount: Story Total: 9000



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



Author's Notes:
Blame Spenser for the fact that I wrote another Challenge entry - I figured if he could do it, so could I, and this little plot bunny attached itself to me and would not leave me alone.

But don't worry, I needed a break from the last chapter of Trying All Twelve anyway - it is more than halfway done though.




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“Girls!”

Harry Potter was ranting. It was quite a sight to see, as he had never really done it before. He was pacing back and forth in his friend Ron’s bedroom, yelling, huffing angrily, quite red in the face, and occasionally jabbing his wand to illustrate his point, making red sparks fly out the end.

“What is it with them anyway? You say one little thing they don’t like and then, poof! You are public enemy number one and have bat bogeys flying out of your nose! How was I supposed to know she wasn’t teasing me? As far as I’ve ever heard, living with you, the Cannons are the only team worth knowing!”

“Watch it, mate, that's the third time you've set my bedspread on fire,” said Ron, snuffing out the flames with his pillow. “I could have warned you not to set my sister off. She may be only eleven, but she is dangerous angry.”

“Now you tell me.”

******************************** *****

“Boys!”

Ginny Weasley was ranting. It was quite a sight to see, and one, unfortunately, that was all too common to her family. She was pacing back and forth in the kitchen, yelling, huffing angrily, quite red in the face, and occasionally jabbing her wand to illustrate her point, making green sparks fly out the end.

“What is it with them anyway? They think girls can’t do anything! Especially things like play Quidditch! I can’t believe he thought I was making it up that there is an all-female Quidditch team! Ugh, he is just like my brothers.”

“Watch it, dear, that's the third time you've set the biscuits on fire,” said her mum, Molly Weasley, idly, putting them out with an Augmenti spell. “Now, don’t you think you're being a bit harsh? You hardly know Harry. And besides, before yesterday you had quite a crush on him.”

“Don’t remind me!!!”

“Well, better go get your things, we need to leave for King’s Cross in an hour.”

“I can’t believe I have to go in the same car as HIM to the station.”

“Only if the bat bogeys are all gone, dear. How long does that spell last, anyway?”

“Not long enough,” growled Ginny. “Not nearly long enough.”

An hour later, Mrs. Weasley’s attitude was not nearly as mild. Harry and Ginny had both tried to drag their trunks downstairs into the kitchen at the same time and gotten them wedged in the staircase as a result. As Ginny had raised her wand towards Harry’s nose again, he had unfortunately thought to defend himself with the only weapon available, namely, a cup of water that was sitting on the kitchen table, which he dumped on her head.

She screeched.

He yelled.

It looked like they were never going to make it to the station on time.

Mr. Weasley finally took matters into his own hands.

“SILENCIO!” he bellowed, pointing his wand at the two of them.

Like fish, Harry and Ginny kept opening and shutting their mouths, but no sound came out.

“Much better,” said Mr. Weasley, calm again, stowing his wand in his back pocket. “The two of you will stay that way until you can learn to carry on like civilized individuals.” He smiled at his wife, who had magically widened the staircase just enough to wiggle the trunks into the kitchen proper.

“Nice to see Harry is fitting in so well with the family, eh, dear?” he asked Molly as he levitated one of the trunks out the front door of the Burrow.

“Oh yes,” Molly replied, raising the other trunk with her own wand. “And to think, I was worried that he would be nervous around a big family.”

Halfway to King’s Cross, Mr. Weasley tried lifting the silencing charm on Harry and Ginny.

It stayed off for exactly 2 minutes before he had to place it again.

Ron, who was secretly tickled that he got to experience the torture of his little sister and not be blamed for it, egged Harry on by giving him a thumbs up whenever his parents were not looking, and by reaching around Ginny’s back to give her a wet willie in the ear, causing her to smack Harry, whom she thought was the culprit.

By the time everyone got to King’s Cross, tempers were running high. Mrs. Weasley took Harry by one arm and marched him through the barrier without a word. Mr. Weasley did the same with Ginny, leaving the twins, Ron and Percy to contend with all the baggage.

On the other side of the barrier, Harry and Ginny were continuing to look daggers at each other. Although he didn’t want to admit it to anyone, Harry was almost enjoying himself. He had always been the victim of torture in the Dursley household, never given the opportunity to fight back and always blamed for everything. Now he had a worthy opponent, a bunch of almost-brothers to back him up, and two grown-ups who were treating him like one of their own.

Just then, Ginny took the opportunity when her parents’ backs were turned to stomp on his foot. Well, maybe “enjoying himself” was a bit strong. Yelping silently in surprise, Harry bent down and swiftly untied both her shoes, tying them together in a quick knot. Ron, who had just come through the barrier, cracked up and gave Harry a high five.

Mrs. Weasley looked at her youngest child and Harry with exasperation.

Pulling aside Percy and the twins, she began to talk to them, gesturing swiftly with her hands and wand. Percy nodded seriously and the twins grinned with glee, rubbing their hands together. Just then a whistle blew, and everyone hurried onto the train.

“We all need to be in the same compartment to start!” called out Percy with authority. “I have some last minute instructions from mum and dad!”

The rest of the family, plus Harry, probably would have ignored Percy — just because it was fun to do so — but the twins, uncharacteristically, followed him into an empty compartment, ushering Ron, Harry and Ginny along with them. Once inside, Fred grabbed Ginny and George grabbed Harry. Percy pointed his wand at them and muttered ‘stickius seatus,’ and the pair felt their legs fly out from under them until they fell back, seated, on the compartment bench. He then said ‘finite silencio’ and Harry found he could speak again. But before he had the chance to ask what was going on, Fred spoke to the group.

“Okay everyone, let’s leave the two lovebirds alone, mum’s orders.”

“Lovebirds!!” huffed Ginny. “What are you talking about??”

“Just an expression, sis,” grinned Fred. He waved his wand at them, going through a complicated pattern seven times. “Argueus cesium. Tolleratum totallus.” He then peered carefully at their faces. “There. That ought to do it.”

“Do what?” asked Harry, with an ominous feeling.

“Force you to get along!” said George cheerfully. “One of mum’s specialties. The two of you cannot leave this compartment, or in fact, be separated from each other by, at a maximum, one foot of space, unless you are both getting along and playing nice with each other.”

“For how long?” croaked Ginny, a sick look on her face.

“A full week,” said Fred with satisfaction. “That’s the longest she has ever set the spell, I think. George and me, we get a day or two all the time. But a week!” He grinned wickedly. “The two of you had better work things out fast, or sleeping is going to be an issue!”

“Not to mention, going to the loo,” inserted Ron helpfully.

“That’s right, brother,” agreed George. “Could make things kind of tricky, if you ask me.”

"No way," said Ginny. "There is no way I am going to be able to be nice to him for a full week."

"You will if you want to be able to take a shower without an audience," said Fred with mock seriousness.

Harry groaned. “So, we just have to get along?”

“Yes,” said Percy formally. “But just because you are getting along for a little while does not mean the spell will break. Any time you start to bicker, you will be irresistibly drawn back towards each other.”

Harry and Ginny looked mutinous. “That’s not fair!” they yelled simultaneously.

“See, it’s working already,” said George. “The two of you actually agree on something.”

Cackling to themselves, the Weasley brothers left the compartment.

Silence.

Neither Harry nor Ginny wanted to be the one to give in and start talking about their predicament, or, worse, actually apologize. But finally, Harry’s frustration got the better of him.

“So.”

Ginny just looked at him. “So? That’s all you have to say for yourself after getting us into this mess? So?” Her voice rose as she spoke, her eyes glittering with anger.

But then something strange happened. As Ginny looked poised to yell even more, she suddenly slid five or six inches along the bench towards Harry. Now they were practically touching.

“See what you did?” Harry yelled back at her. “We have to get along, or weren’t you listening?”

Wrong thing to say. With his outburst, Harry slid along the bench towards Ginny, until the were sitting so close to each other you couldn’t have slipped a piece of parchment between them.

Harry and Ginny looked at each other in horror, both terrified to say anything, lest one of them end up in the other’s lap.

Finally, Harry muttered, tentatively, “Sorry.” The bond between them relaxed just a fraction.

“Yeah, me too,” said Ginny, and she was able to wiggle a couple more inches away.

The two of them contemplated each other.

“I guess we actually have to be nice to each other,” said Harry morosely.

“At least for a week,” agreed Ginny. “Then I can go back to telling you what an arse you are.”

“Hey!” began Harry, and immediately slid back into Ginny, almost knocking her over.

“Watch it!” she yelled back, struggling to free herself.

“Oi. Great. Back where we started,” sighed Harry. How were they ever going to get along enough to be able to separate themselves enough to actually get out of the compartment?

As if reading his thoughts, Ginny said, “I guess we have to pretend to get along. Do you think that would work?”

“I dunno,” said Harry. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” said Ginny, suddenly sitting up and smiling brightly at Harry, “I really am very sorry about all the terrible things I said to you. I was just dreadfully embarrassed to be around you, given my previous crush, which my dear, darling brothers have doubtlessly mentioned to you.”

To Harry’s surprise, Ginny’s words seemed to free a weight within him, and he was able to slide well towards the window.

“I think it is working!” she hissed. “Now you!”

“Well, umm, Ginny,” began Harry hesitantly, “apology accepted. And I, umm, I'm sorry too. I should have treated you more nicely. I’ve never lived in the same house as a girl before, and I didn’t know how to act.” He put on what he imagined was a pathetically sorry face. “Can you ever forgive me?”

Freedom. He was actually able to stand up and move across the compartment. Ginny’s manner suddenly grew brisk.

“Right then,” she said, standing up herself. “Now we know what to do. We have to keep pretending to be nice to each other. Especially if anyone is around. Don’t overdo it, or they might get suspicious. I don’t want them to know we found a loophole.”

“Don’t worry,” said Harry grimly. “Neither do I.”

********************************* **************

Ron was rather surprised to see how quickly Harry made an appearance in the compartment he was sharing with Hermione and Neville, but he accepted Harry’s explanation that he and Ginny just got tired of fighting without comment. Harry suspected Ron’s behavior had more to do with the long and rather complicated story Hermione was telling about her summer reading project than anything Harry and Ginny had done; he had a rather glazed look on his face as he stared at Hermione, and Harry was sure he wasn’t hearing a word she said.

At the Sorting Feast Harry kept his eyes firmly away from the line of First Years that walked nervously into the Great Hall so he would not have to look at Ginny. She was the last student sorted, and as she took her place at the Gryffindor table, Fred called out with glee, “Well, that will make yours and Harry’s sticky little problem easier to handle, now won’t it?”

A number of other students looked up with interest, and as Harry got up to tell Fred to please keep his voice down, he accidentally brushed by Ginny, making her spill her pumpkin juice.

“Hey, watch it!” she immediately yelled at him.

Not thinking, Harry yelled back. “Oi, it was an accident!”

Immediately, Harry felt his feet trip over each other as they dragged across the floor towards Ginny. He ended up standing behind her as she sat at the table, his stomach uncomfortably pressed into her back. The force of the motion was so strong that he had to lean over her on either side and grab the table to steady himself. Most of the table erupted in laughter.

Harry wanted to scream. Instead, he took a deep breath and said, formally, “I am sorry Ginny. You probably didn’t realize that was an accident. I apologize for making you spill your pumpkin juice.”

Just as formally, Ginny answered back, “Not to worry, Harry dear. I completely understand, and accept your apology.”

Wrenching himself free, Harry walked back to his seat next to Ron, who was laughing so hard that pumpkin juice was coming out of his nose. Hermione, who was sitting next to him, moved closer to Harry on her own accord.

***************************** ************
The next few days were as annoying as anything Harry had ever experienced. Although, being in different years, he and Ginny could avoid each other fairly well during class time, they seemed to find themselves thrust together at all manner of times otherwise: between classes even when they should have been at opposite ends of the castle, in the boys dormitory when Harry was getting ready for bed, in the Great Hall at meals. Harry suspected that the twins, and even Ron, the prat, had a hand in forcing them together. Indeed, Fred and George never passed up an opportunity to remind Harry cheerfully as they passed him in the hall to “keep smiling, especially around ickle Ginnykins!” or some other equally unhelpful banter.

It was not as easy at it looked. Being fake-nice to Ginny constantly reminded Harry how annoyed he was at her. He suspected she felt the same, and more than once the found themselves grabbing onto to doorframes, the stair case, and in one memorable occasion, other students, to try to prevent themselves from being slammed together after a row, as each of them desperately yelled platitudes and apologies at the other.

After one such incident, Percy pulled them aside and asked seriously, “You two are really trying to get along, right? Because by now, you shouldn’t be triggering the spell so often.” After loudly reassuring him that everything between them was fine, really corking even, Percy let them go.

Things really came to a head on Thursday. Harry had unconsciously taken the last piece of sausage from under Ginny’s nose at breakfast, landing them ten full minutes stuck to each other, and then she had knocked over his bag of books as he got up to leave the Great Hall, accidentally, of course. Harry was planning on taking time before lunch to go for a fly on his Nimbus to cool off, but he found that he suddenly couldn’t get far enough away from Ginny to get out of the castle and go down to the broom shed.

The two of them finally “made nice” just enough to get to their next class in time, but both of them were seething.

Harry stomped into his Charms class and growled at Ron about “Your sister,” before finding that he could not walk any further than the first desk closest to the door. Sighing, he looked back at his friend. “Your sister . . . and I, are getting along famously, you know. Quite a clever spell, that one of your mum’s.” Finally freed to move into the room, Harry pulled out his wand and didn’t talk the rest of class, other than to mutter the spells Flitwick was teaching them.

Coming out of the classroom, Harry looked warily around for Ginny. Not seeing her, he breathed a sigh of relief and began making his way towards Potions. Suddenly, a girl he had never seen before appeared in front of him, blocking his way in the corridor. Given her size, he assumed she was a first year, and a rather odd looking one at that: long, messy blonde hair that was held in a loose bun by her wand, big, slightly protuberant eyes, and what looked like dirty radish vines looped around each ear. She smiled vaguely and then said to him in a dreamy voice, as if they were old friends, “So nice to see you, Harry.”

Harry sputtered at this strange girl, “Uhh, huhh, what? Who?”

The girl was nonplussed by his behavior, and continued speaking as if he hadn’t made a sound.

“Luna. Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Umm, yes?” Harry was looking around for Ron or Hermione, or . . .anyone who could help him, but most of the students seemed to have already headed off to class. “Can I help you?”

“I don’t know. Do you think I need help?” The girl was now peering at him curiously, as if he was the one with radishes sticking out of his ears.

“Well, no, but, umm, why did you stop me?” Harry was going to be late to potions now. In his very first week. Oh, hell. He looked expectantly at Luna, half thinking that he should just make a run for it, and maybe he could make it on time. Just maybe.

But Luna was speaking again. “Oh, I just thought I would say hello. You’re Harry Potter, you know.”

“Yes, I know,” said Harry through gritted teeth. “It was nice to meet you, but if you will excuse me, I'm late.”

“Of course I'll excuse you. But you had better take this note first. I'm supposed to give it to you.” Luna held out a small, folded piece of parchment.

Exasperated that she hadn’t given it to him in the first place, Harry grabbed it, muttered a hasty “Thanks,” and beat a path down to the dungeons.

Unfortunately he reached the door to his class at the exact same time as Snape. The Potions master did not look at all pleased to see Harry.

“Ignoring the start of class already, I see,” he said, glancing at his watch and glaring at Harry, who was panting in the doorway. “Ten points from Gryffindor for your tardiness, I think.”

Harry knew it was no use to protest that he had actually gotten to class on time, given that Snape was not yet in the room. He shuffled into the classroom mentally berating the blonde girl for making him late, and sat down at a table with Ron and Hermione.

“Where were you, mate?” whispered Ron, when Snape had finished lecturing the class on the potion they were to make and displayed the ingredients on one of the blackboards. “You were right behind us.”

“Umm, a girl stopped me, to give me a note,” Harry whispered back, reaching into the pocket of his robe where he had shoved the parchment and pulling it out.

Opening the note, Harry saw a messy, but decidedly feminine scrawl:

“Harry, since we can’t talk to each other without screaming, I thought I would try a note. You are not trying nearly hard enough to pretend to be nice to me and that is why we keep getting stuck together. Now, shape up before dinner or else! I want to sit with some of my new friends and I don’t want you to get in the way! - Ginny”

“My fault!” Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione in a too-loud whisper. “Not likely. She is the one who acts bloody mental if I even look at her wrong. If she would stop getting on my case for every little thing, then maybe we could . . .”

“Mr. Potter, where are you going? I did not hear you ask to be excused.” Snape was glittering him, malice in his eyes. “Twenty more points from Gryffindor if you don’t come back right now!”

It was no use, as Harry was fuming about Ginny’s note, he hadn’t even noticed himself begin sliding out of the room. By the time he realized what was happening, he was almost to the door and the entire class was gaping at him. Malfoy and the other Slytherins began laughing hysterically as Harry wildly grabbed for the corner of the table, a cauldron, anything, to keep from flying out the door.

But his annoyance that Ginny had thought that a note would get around the spell overwhelmed him, and seconds later, he found himself flying down the dungeon corridor towards the stairs that led to the rest of the castle, Ron, Hermione and Snape racing behind him.

This could not be good.

“Ow, ouch! Ow!” Harry yelled as his shins and knees collided with the stone steps as the power of Mrs. Weasley’s spell pulled him forward. By the time he had reached the first floor corridor, both shoes had flown off, which at least made his progress smoother as his socks slid easily across the slippery floor. He was barely aware of his friends yelling behind him as he went flying around a corner and, no surprise,

SMACK

right into Ginny Weasley. By the looks of it, she had been involuntarily pulled out of Transfiguration class; several matches were floating around her hair and an angry Professor McGonagall was in her wake.

“What is the meaning of this?? Potter? Miss Weasley?”

“He/She started it!” they both yelled as the charm slammed them together, back to back, arms out at their sides, stuck to each other. Even the palms of their hands were fused.

At that moment, Fred and George Weasley rounded a corner, obviously intent on skiving off a class. They took one look at Harry and their sister and burst into laughter, explaining, through snorts and giggles, what was going on.

Professor McGonagall was not amused. “And there are two more days before the spell wears off?” She sighed, and looked at Snape.

”You have given Potter detention for this, I assume?”

“Of course. Tomorrow night. And taken points as well. This sort of behavior will not be tolerated.” He stared Harry down for a moment and then looked at Ron and Hermioine.

“Well, what are you two doing here? Do you want me to take even more points from your house? Back to class!” He swept them away down the corridor.

“Miss Weasley,” said Professor McGonagall. “You will have detention with me tomorrow night as well. And both of you are instructed to stay as far apart from each other as possible until the spell breaks. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” they both muttered.

“Fred, George,” said McGonagall, turning to the twins, “see if you can get them apart and I may overlook the fact that the two of you should be in Herbology right now. I assume you know better than anyone how this spell of your mother’s works?”

Fred and George were not the least bit ashamed at having been caught. “Of course, Professor,” they sing-songed.

Once McGonagall was gone, the twins turned to Harry and Ginny, identical grins on their faces.

“Okay, you two. Time to make nicey-nicey.”

“Oh, look, George, they are holding hands.”

“So sweet, Fred. Just so sweet.” George wiped a pretend tear away from his eye.

His back still to Ginny, Harry sighed. She had started it this time, but obviously, pointing that out was not going to help. But before he could say the requisite apology, Ginny said, in a quiet voice.

“Sorry, Harry. I guess I went to far.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Slowly they were able to loosen themselves from each other, much to the twins disappointment. They took off, muttering about a statue of a one-eyed witch, to leave Harry and Ginny looking at each other. Ginny still looked mad, and Harry felt his feet begin to slide again. He stuck out his hand.

“Let’s just agree to stay away from each other as much as possible, okay?”

Ginny looked at his hand for a moment and then finally shook it. “Deal.”

They both started to walk away, unfortunately both in the direction of the Great Hall. Harry made to glare at Ginny but finally caught himself, muttered “Library,” and took off in that direction. He would miss lunch if it meant being nowhere in the vicinity of Ginny Weasley for a while.

He was still fuming, but doing his best to keep his thoughts away from Ginny specifically as he walked into the library. It must be something about girls, he thought. Even Hermione seemed to love to get on his and Ron’s case more than necessary. It was irksome. That’s what it was. And annoying.

“Annoying,” he said out loud, to no one in particular.

“Pardon?” A voice sounded to his left at one of the tables in the library. A girl with long dark hair was sitting there, reading a textbook. Standard Book of Spells, Grade Three, Harry saw, when she closed it. “Were you talking to me?”

“Err, no,” said Harry, feeling foolish. “I was just, umm, thinking about girls in general.”

“And you think we are annoying?” the girl asked curiously.

“Well, you can be. Like when you nag us blokes for every little thing.”

The girl grinned. “I have a couple of brothers, and I will let you know, I only nag them because they never listen the first time. I’m Cho, by the way.”

“Harry. And what do you mean, we never listen? I listened just fine to . . . well, to my friend’s sister and she still went mental on me.” For a moment, Harry felt his still shoeless feet start to slide, but as he mentally thought an apology to Ginny, they stopped.

“Well,” said the girl. “What did she think you didn’t listen to her about?”

“I thought she was making it up that there is actually an all-girl professional Quidditch Team.”

Cho raised her eyebrows. “You have never heard of the Holyhead Harpies? Don’t you play Seeker on Gryffindor’s Quidditch team?”

Harry felt defensive. “Well, yeah, but . . .”

“And didn’t Oliver Wood teach you all the Harpies’ signature three-pronged attack formation last year? I saw your Chasers use it in the match against Hufflepuff.”

“Well . . .” Suddenly Harry was feeling rather warm.

“You see,” said the girl, as if that solved everything. “Boys don’t’ listen.”

“Yeah, well, girls get way too emotional about everything when we don’t,” said Harry hotly. “If she had just been nicer about it, none of this would have happened.”

It was no use. He was starting to slide out of the library. Cho looked at him with amusement. “It was nice to meet you!” she called as he flew out the door.

Harry managed to stop himself before he got to the doorway of the Great Hall, and beat a path up to the relative safety of his dorm, to hide for as long as possible.

Friday, both Harry and Ginny managed to avoid each other. As the clock approached seven, Harry reluctantly put down the Quidditch book he had been reading and made his way out of the portrait hole for his detention with Snape. He was approaching the stairway down to the dungeons when he heard familiar voices.

Unfortunately, they belonged to two of the people he was trying hardest to avoid at the moment: Malfoy, and Ginny.

Malfoy and Ginny? What were they doing together?

As he got closer, he heard Draco say in a lazy drawl, “So, you and Potter can’t keep your hands off each other, can you? What, you couldn’t find anyone better to have a crush on?”

“Sod off, Malfoy,” said Ginny. “Now let me pass.”

“Why should I? Do you have somewhere important to be? A meeting with Potter, perhaps? Maybe he can do something about those second-hand robes and books. His parents did leave him quite a bit of money, I’ve heard. What a nice combination. You have parents and no money and he has money and no parents. Is that why your family hangs around with him so much?”

“Shut up, Malfoy. He’s my brother’s best friend, and we all like having him around because he is a nice person. He never even mentions money.”

“A nice person, huh? He didn’t look that nice in Potions class when he was complaining about you to Ron.”

Harry had heard enough.

“Leave her alone, Malfoy. That's between Ginny and me.”

Draco turned to Harry, his eyes glinting. “Coming to save your girlfriend, Potter? Why don’t you tell her the truth, that you hate her guts.”

“I don’t.” said Harry automatically. “Ginny and I have . . . our differences, but I definitely don’t hate her.” He looked at her, the beginnings of a smile on his face. “I mean, sure, she can be kind of annoying sometimes, but I lived in her house half the summer. We all annoyed each other some of the time.”

Malfoy sneered. “Probably because the house is too small to hold you all.”

Ginny broke in, “Just get out of here, Draco. We don’t want to talk to you. I would rather have Harry annoying me every day than have to talk to you for one more second.” She raised her wand menacingly at him and said idly to Harry, “How long did it take for those bat bogeys to disappear again?”

“About an hour,” replied Harry.

“Well, I wasn’t trying that hard with you. I wonder if I can make them last until tomorrow morning this time. What do you think, Malfoy, want to be my guinea pig?”

Muttering something about not wanting to waste any more of his time, Malfoy stormed off.

Harry and Ginny looked at each other.

“Well,” said Harry.

“Yeah. Well.”

“Umm, thanks for sticking up for me back there,” Harry finally said, awkwardly.

“You too.” Ginny actually smiled. “It’s the kind of thing one of my brothers would have done.” She looked at him for a second. “Actually, the fighting is the kind of thing my brothers would have done too.”

Harry chuckled. “Yeah, Ron did seem to be getting quite a kick out of the whole thing.”

“That’s because he was not the one with his backside stuck to you in the middle of the corridor!”

Harry laughed. “Not one of my better moments.”

“Nor mine,” agreed Ginny.

“Well, umm, I have to get to detention now.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Have fun then . . . I'll see ya later.”

“Yeah, maybe tomorrow, at breakfast. If you don’t spill my pumpkin juice, that is.”

Harry grinned. “I'll be sure to be extra careful.”

A/N: So there you go. The ending to the story was inspired by one of my husband's favorite movie quotes, from Animal House: "You can't do that to our pledges, only WE can do that to our pledges!" Also, for those of you who wonder if Ginny and Harry are ever going to really like each other, check out the color of the sparks they make at the beginning of the story when they are ranting.


















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