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SIYE Time:8:14 on 28th March 2024
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I'd Rather Fall in Chocolate
By Kezzabear

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Comedy
Warnings: Negative Alcohol Use
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 421
Summary: Ginny's got a new enemy - she's just not sure who it is ... Harry knows what he wants - he just doesn't know how to get it ...
Hitcount: Story Total: 100591; Chapter Total: 9413
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
Sorry this took so long, Work. They make you go there if you want money to live ...




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Harry owed Neville Longbottom a lot. Five Galleons from the time Puddlemere beat Chudley, his life for the whole cutting off the snake’s head thing, and undying gratitude for his conspiracy in the Make Ginny Notice Him, But in a Positive Way Plan. Neville had been the first to encourage him, and the first to warn him, when Harry debated moving back home to England in order to pursue Ginny.

“She might not go for it,” Neville had warned, waving his lime milkshake in Harry’s general direction. “She’s not exactly your biggest fan.”

“She used to be,” Harry whined. Neville raised an eyebrow. Harry shrugged.

“I mean, I can see why you want her,” Neville said, fiddling with the straw in his drink, “but she might be ... resistant.”

“She does seem to glare at me a lot.”

“Get used to it.” Neville discarded the straw and tipped the rest of the milkshake into his mouth

“But you think I should do it?” Harry persisted, pushing his own strawberry milkshake aside so that it nearly fell on the cobblestones under Florean Fortescue’s outdoor tables.

“You’ve got nothing to lose, have you?” Neville answered. “It’s a room above the pub and being glared at by Ginny Weasley, or sharing a flat with Viktor Krum and being simpered at by Alistair Cross.”

“I never should have told you about Alistair,” Harry grumbled.

“I’m glad you did,” Neville said, smirking. “It’s not every day you hear an amusing story about Harry Potter, a drag queen and a hotel room in Yugoslavia.”

“I didn’t know he was a drag queen!” Harry exclaimed loudly, drawing the attention of several passersby. Neville grinned and Harry ducked his head, swearing softly.

“Just do it, Harry,” Neville said. “It’s time she had someone good in her life. Just be ... prepared. She’s going to put up a fight.”

Harry did not think that this fight would be literal and yet here Ginny was with a black eye rapidly swelling shut and a glare on her face that rivalled the one Hermione reserved for when Ron came in rolling drunk and singing Weird Sisters songs at two in the morning. Ron and Harry had only tried that the once. They valued their manhood too much.

It hadn’t been hard to organise a transfer back to England, although Krum had tried to convince Harry to stay and meet Hildegard, a ‘very fine witch who didn’t let her wooden leg get in the way of anything’. Harry was fine with her wooden leg; it was the fact that she apparently had a ‘great personality’ that made him wary. The Bulgarian Minister made a half hearted attempt to get him to stay but Harry was firm and within a few weeks had packed his trunk and gone home.

Ron didn’t know the real reason Harry came home and George had no idea why Harry came home. Bill definitely had no idea why Harry came home and Charlie didn’t care why Harry came home. Percy might know the real reason Harry came home but as Harry was the one who’d quietly caught him and Audrey wearing leather in the attic one Sunday with the ghoul for an audience, Percy was never going to be a threat. Harry told Fred the real reason he came home — the headstone, not the portrait, the portrait couldn’t be trusted. But Hermione knew because Hermione knew everything.

Except, apparently, why Harry Potter was still Undesirable Number One with Ginny Weasley.

“I don’t know why she dislikes you, Harry,” Hermione said one Sunday afternoon at The Burrow a week after his return home. They were sitting outside while Molly Weasley lectured Ginny on dressing like a lady and Ron and George tried to catch Percy and Audrey at it in the sitting room.

“What?” Harry was confused because they’d just been talking about Seamus Finnegan’s recent mishap with Fillibusters. He did not look better without eyebrows.

“Something happened,” Hermione continued, “and I don’t know what it was because she didn’t really ever give up on you. She always hoped. I could tell.”

“You’re talking about ...?” Harry left the sentence hanging, his hand gesturing in the air hopefully. Hermione looked around furtively but the only thing stirring was a hideous garden gnome that was skulking on the edge of the vegetable patch.

“I know why you came home, Harry,” Hermione whispered. Harry studied Hermione closely before he raised an eyebrow. Hermione looked around again before tilting her head towards the kitchen window where Molly Weasley could be heard extolling the virtues of Notus Bebhinn and his blemish remover.

“You found me out, Hermione,” Harry said nodding sagely. “I came home for Molly’s cooking.” Hermione hit him.

“Ginny liked you, a lot. I just don’t know what happened ...” Hermione trailed off.

“War happened,” Harry said sadly plucking at the grass with his fingers and watching the broken blades flutter to the ground. “We’re all different now.” They sat there in silence for a moment, watching as the garden Gnome tried to nick the Brussel Sprouts and not stopping it because no one liked Brussel Sprouts anyway.

A commotion from the house broke the stillness and Ron came shooting out of the back door with George hot on his heels. Bill tore out of the door moments later, still buttoning his trousers and yelling indecipherably. Percy stuck his head out of an upstairs window and laughed.

“Are you sure you want to marry into this lot?” Harry asked with a smirk as Ron dodged through the trees in the orchard while George shimmied up the nearest tree out of Bill’s reach. Hermione laughed.

“Yes, and so do you.”

It had been several weeks since Hermione had confessed her lack of knowledge regarding Ginny’s disregard for him and yet Harry was no closer to finding out why the shy child, who had once followed him everywhere and gazed at him with adoration, now glared at him constantly.

She was still glaring at him now, with one eye which glittered at him dangerously. He shivered and it wasn’t because he was scared.

“Would you like me to fix that?” Harry asked, gesturing at Ginny’s black eye as he put his goblet back on the table.

“Where’d you learn a healing spell?” Ginny asked sceptically.

“Luna taught me —”

“No,” Ginny said sharply, tipping her goblet up and draining it. “I do not want you to heal it.” She glared again and stood up abruptly, swaying slightly and tottering into the chair as she swung her head around to compensate for her impaired vision. Ginny hit her shin on the table leg, swore and dropped her handbag. It fell open, spilling tubes of lipstick, several hair elastics and a handful of Knuts onto the floor. Ginny sighed and dropped down to her knees, scrabbling to collect up her belongings and stuff them into the tiny handbag.

She was wearing blue jeans again and Harry gripped the table to stop himself getting up to touch her as she rummaged under the table, displaying her rather considerable ... rear assets as she did so. This was not going well. Time to focus on something else. Something not guaranteed to make him drool like Ron did in his sleep. Feet. Feet were good, Ginny had those and Harry didn’t find feet the least bit attractive.

Big, hairy, podgy, sweaty ... cute, petite, slender, silky looking, toenail painted feet. Silver strappy sandals should be banned. Entirely too sexy.

Harry gripped the table and stared at the blob of uncertain origin on the table top. It could be a Hippogriff. Or a Thestral. Yes a Thestral because they meant death and death was good because it didn’t make him think of Ginny’s sexy bum in blue jeans or her sexy painted toenails on her sexy little toes.

Harry banged his head on the tabletop with a thud before groaning. The silver sandal clad feet stopped and stood uncertainly by the table. The nail polish twinkled a little in the lamplight as Ginny flexed her toes.

“You’re going to damage your pretty little face if you keep that up,” Ginny said. “Merlin knows you carry a scar well but this is ridiculous.” Harry flushed and looked up at her. She wasn’t glaring now, she was smirking.

“Oh, I’m not the one who has a pretty face,” Harry said. Ginny went pink.

“Why do you do that?” she asked with a frown. Harry raised an eyebrow at her, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Do what?” he drawled. Ginny huffed and threw her arms out.

“That ... that flirting thing!” she said with an exasperated sigh.

“Well, I always flirt with pretty girls,” Harry said with a wink.

He ducked the Bat Bogey just in time.
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