|
The One With Ginny's Boyfriend | ||||||
|
Category: The One Where Everyone Finds Out (2021-1) Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Fluff Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: G Reviews: 30 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? Hitcount: Story Total: 25678; Chapter Total: 4261 Awards: View Trophy Room 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! |
Previous |
|
||||
|
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. |
| Reviews 30 |
Previous
|
