SIYE Time:2:18 on 12th December 2024 SIYE Login: no | | |
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Romilda Vane Is NOT a Hinny Shipper By FloreatCastellum
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Category: Best Time Of Our Lives Challenge (2019-1), Best Time of our Lives Challenge 2019-1
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Other
Genres: Humor
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: PG
Reviews: 12
Summary: Some people might say that Romilda projects her own issues onto others, but those people just don't understand how terrible it is that Harry Potter is dating Weasley.
Hitcount: Story Total: 6143
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.
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She knew his game. She wasn't stupid like Weasley. She had spotted him, getting up early even though she knew he had a free period on Wednesday mornings and could have a lie in, coming down to the common room - not even noticing that she was sitting in one of the deep armchairs waiting for him. She had watched as he had sat at one of the tables, scrunched up some parchment and scattered it around him. He then furiously scribbled on another piece, glancing every few seconds towards the stairs to the girls' dorms.
And then the absolute worst part was when Weasley came down with her friends, ready to head to breakfast, and spotted him across the room.
'Oh, I couldn't sleep, so I've been up doing some Quidditch strategies for the Ravenclaw game,' he said - totally casual, as though he hadn't been expecting her at all.
It was infuriating. Weasley was dumb enough to believe that he wasn't acting like a love-sick teenage girl, making up excuses to see her, going out of his way, for what? A brief breakfast with her. Pathetic.
She followed them down to the Great Hall, grinding her teeth in rage. She couldn't hear what they were talking about, but they were holding hands, and every now and then one of them would laugh.
That should be me! Romilda thought. He never even gave me the chance. I could talk about Quidditch all day if that's what he really wants. That massive, dull as ditchwater encyclopedia on Quidditch terminology that she'd studied - all for nothing. He'd barely reacted when she had complimented him on the wronski feint she'd seen in their last practice session.
She made sure to sit on the other side of the table to them, a little way down. Here she would have the perfect line of sight to watch Weasley put a love potion in his pumpkin juice because that was certainly what was happening. Had to be. Why would he willingly choose to go out with someone whose freckles made them look like they had a case of spattergroit?
If she could just see the bottle Weasley was using, she could find the suitable antidote and rescue him. Someone had to look out for him - after all he had been through, he was vulnerable.
But Weasley didn't pour anything into his juice, and Harry took his toast straight from the long toast rack running down the centre of the table. Weasley didn't touch his food or drink at all.
Look at them, all happy and laughing. She's a psychopath, and he doesn't even realise he's the victim. It's tragic, it really is.
The soppy way he was looking at Weasley was driving her mad. It was like he was obsessed with her.
Even when she left, hurrying off to her muggle studies lesson, Harry sat there gazing after her. Romilda used the opportunity of him being distracted to dart around to the other side of the table and then slowly walk up behind him.
‘Hi Harry,’ she said, in what she hoped was a sultry voice.
He tore his beautiful green eyes away from Ginny’s distant figure and looked up at her, slightly confused looking. Poor lamb. ‘Oh, hello,’ he said.
‘How are things going?’ she asked, hoping to lead into a conversation about how concerned she was.
‘Fine,’ he said distractedly, looking over her shoulder. ‘Really sorry, Romilda, I’ve just got to… speak to Professor McGonagall.’
He hurried off, leaving her fuming.
****
She'd gone up to the fifth year girl's dorm to visit Polly with Demelza and Agnes, but naturally, that meant she could keep an eye on Weasley too, who was lounging on her bed reading Crucial Charms for Consideration while the rest of them applied their make-up.
'Snape is being a right bastard at the moment,' said Polly. 'He was just making up rules as he went along last lesson, I don't know what his problem is. He's got the job he's always wanted, can't he cheer up?'
'Oh he's just such a miserable man, he'll never be happy,' said Agnes. 'Now he's got the defence job there's probably some other subject he's decided he deserves.'
'We were talking about that at Quidditch practice the other day, weren't we Ginny?' said Demelza, doing her usual annoying habit of trying to include her friend in the conversation. 'We were saying defence teachers never last, and then Harry and Ron were thinking up ways he could go. Harry said that he'd eventually end up annoying Snape so much that his eyes would finally pop out his skull and he'd go from blood loss.'
Everyone laughed except Romilda, who had spotted Ginny sniggering too and found it irritating.
'He does seem to hate Harry in particular, doesn't he?' said Polly. 'He's always in detention with him. At least he can laugh about it, I suppose.'
'I was reading in Witch Weekly about that,' said Romilda. 'There's lots of examples of him using dark humour, Rita Skeeter had a collection, and they had a quote from a mind healer who said that it's a coping strategy for trauma-'
'Maybe he's just a funny person,' said Weasley, clearly through gritted teeth. 'God, these magazines. Harry uses dark humour, it's because of his troubled past. Harry walks down a street, alone, probably because his family died. Harry doesn't smile in a photo he wasn't aware was being taken - classic orphan!'
'Some of us are just concerned,' said Romilda loudly as the others giggled. Honestly, why this girl thought she, of all people, deserved Harry was beyond her. She clearly didn't care - she'd gone back to her book. 'After all,' she continued, 'it does seem like he's on a rebellious streak at the moment.'
Weasley stared at him. 'A rebellious streak? Eh?'
'Well, all the detentions he's been getting, and not to mention the tattoo. That's true, isn't it? Witch Weekly said he'd been spotted in that tattoo place in Hogsmeade, getting a hippogriff on his chest.'
Weasley looked at her coolly. 'Well, they've got their facts wrong. He actually got a Hungarian Horntail, like the one he defeated a few years ago.'
The girls all gaped at her, and then, infuriatingly, there was a mad rush to Weasley's bed.
'Really? He actually got one?'
'Is it in colour?'
'How's he kept that hidden? I swear he didn't have it last week in the changing room-'
'Don't you have to be of age to get a tattoo?'
'You don't have to be of age if you have parental permission,' said Weasley smoothly. 'And as Harry can't get that, they let him make his own decisions. Because he's an orphan,' she added in a serious whisper.
Romilda could have smacked her stupid smirk right off her stupid face. But something about it had pricked her ears, and she couldn't help herself from asking... 'You've seen his chest though? You haven't been seeing each other for very long.'
Weasley smiled. 'Yes, but obviously we've know each other for years. And he's very passionate.' She looked at her watch. 'He'll be back from detention soon, I'm going to go and join him, Ron and Hermione.' She rose, and made her way to the door, but then paused and turned to Romilda. 'Do you mind if I borrow a copy of Witch Weekly? My brain is melted from charms, I need something mindless.'
'Sure,' said Romilda sweetly, reaching for the magazine on her bedside table. 'You might learn something about your boyfriend.'
Weasley laughed - Romilda could tell it was fake. 'Yes, I might do!' she said brightly, and then she skipped off down the stairs.
There was a heavy silence in the room, before Demelza said quietly, 'blimey.'
'Why her?' Romilda demanded. 'What's she got that we haven't?'
'Well,' said Polly awkwardly. 'He stays with her family every summer, doesn't he?'
'That makes it weird,' she replied stubbornly. 'Surely he should look at her like a sister or something?'
'I don't know, they've been flirty at Quidditch all year,' said Demelza. She looked sympathetically at Romilda. 'I know you really like him, Mil, but you should see them together, they really seem to click.'
'We could have clicked,' said Romilda, feeling heartbroken.
'I know,' said Polly patiently. 'I get it, Romilda, I really do. We all fancy him a bit, don't we, girls?'
'Absolutely,' said Agnes swiftly.
'Can't take my eyes off him,' agreed Demelza. 'You'd just get the sense that he'd protect you, you know?'
'Yeah, he's got really nice shoulders,' said Polly dreamily. 'Is that weird? Thinking about his shoulders?'
'And to be honest,' continued Demelza, 'I think Ginny was joking about the tattoo thing. The boys don't bother with the changing cubicles when we play Quidditch, they've all walked about without their tops at some point, and I would have definitely noticed a tattoo.'
'Has he got a nice chest?' asked Agnes curiously.
'I only saw it briefly, but yes,' said Demelza firmly. 'Oh my god, yes.'
They were all silent for a few moments - Romilda was sure that they were all, like her, imagining those strong shoulders and that lean chest. But, unlike her (probably), they weren't thinking about the conversation they would be having, lying in a bed with her flung across that lovely chest, where he would quietly and emotionally tell her about the things he'd been through, the loss he had experienced. Men like that, they were strong but needed someone to be vulnerable with.
'You're not alone now,' she would whisper, 'you have me.'
'It's just so hard being an orphan,' he would whisper back.
'God,' sighed Polly, jerking Romilda out of her fantasy. 'Ginny is just so lucky.'
‘Lucky?’ spat Romilda. ‘I’m sure it’s love potion.’
The others laughed. ‘Don’t be silly,’ said Demelza. ‘Who would be obsessed enough to try that in this day and age?’
‘And on Harry too!’ exclaimed Polly. ‘He’s much too clever to fall for that sort of thing.’
Insides churning with a mixture of guilt and embarrassment, Romilda said nothing. The plan at Christmas hadn’t worked, but there was still time. One day, she thought furiously. One day Harry Potter would come to his senses, and realise that he belonged with her.
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