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Butterflies and Black Eyes | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP Characters:None Genres: Humor, Romance Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 19 Summary: Mrs. Weasley refuses to let Hermione's black eye wait until they go to Diagon Alley. This small change results in a butterfly effect that changes Harry and Ginny's relationship in a way that neither anticipate. Canon through chapter 5 of HBP. Hitcount: Story Total: 4489; Chapter Total: 690 |
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After they arrived at the lane to the Burrow, Harry sank to his knees on the hard-packed dirt as he snorted with glee. Ginny bent at the waist with her arms wrapped around her torso as she laughed hysterically. Eventually, the two regained their composure and stood up. They looked at each other which immediately set them off again. When that bout of mirth was finished, Ginny walked over and wrapped Harry in an enormous hug. Harry gripped her tightly, closing his eyes as he inhaled her intoxicating flowery scent. He lost himself in her embrace and found himself clinging to her far too long. He coughed and let her go. “That was brilliant!” Ginny exclaimed, her face glowing. She turned to Fleur, the radiance somewhat diminishing. “Thanks,” she said with sincerity but slightly less enthusiasm. “We couldn’t have pulled it off without you.” Fleur had an enigmatic smile on her face as she glanced between Harry and Ginny. “It was nuzzing. Anyzing for ‘Arry.” Ginny’s face darkened some more. “Vanishing the Puking Pastille was quick thinking,” Harry praised. “That was possibly the best part.” “Thank you,” Fleur said with a dazzling smile. Ginny now wore a dour expression as if the outing was a complete failure. Harry and Ginny met with Hermione and Ron outside where they could recount the events far from the sensitive ears of Mrs. Weasley. Harry’s friends were impressed but also disappointed. “I can’t believe you didn’t let us in on this,” Ron complained. “The one time someone pulls something over on Fred and George and I don’t get to see it.” “Harry, that was risky, going into Diagon Alley without extra protection,” Hermione lectured. Harry’s mood was too was in too good of a mood to be brought down. “You know I would have included you two if I could,” Harry explained. “But it was Ginny’s idea to go after the shop, and I couldn’t think of a way to bring everyone.” “We also would have had to disguise you,” Ginny pointed out. Ron sighed in a mixture of irritation and acceptance. “It sounded absolutely brilliant. Great job.” “I suppose the twins did have it coming to them,” Hermione said, trying to control the smile playing at the corners of her mouth. “You can’t expect everyone to sit back and take it without ever trying to get even.” “And Fleur,” Ron said, his eyes going out of focus, “vanishing that pastille. I didn’t know she had such a great sense of humour.” “The French can be quite cruel,” Hermione snapped. Two-a-side Quidditch was back on, although Hermione flew so cautiously that it was an absolute trouncing by the Weasley side. At lunch Harry was surprised to hear Fleur compliment Mrs. Weasley’s cooking. Once they had been able to explain that toad in the hole didn’t actually include toads, Fleur had downed two helpings. Fleur had been unable to entirely remove any backhandedness from her remarks, she had praised Mrs. Weasley’s ability to “turn strange ingredients surprisingly tasty,” but Harry supposed it was movement in the right direction. Fleur had also caught Harry staring at Ginny a few times, giving Harry a piercing glance reminiscent of Legilimency each time it happened. After the heavy meal, the four teenagers went out to the garden to enjoy a lie-down. After a pleasant mid-afternoon nap in the sunshine, Harry excused himself to visit the bathroom. On the way back out, he remembered he might have left some candy in his trunk and went in to look for it. Harry was bent over, rummaging around, when a shadow darkened the room. He turned to see Fleur in the doorway. “May I come in?” she asked. Harry nodded, his heart rate slightly increasing. Fleur closed the door behind her. His pulse went up even higher. She sat on the bed and patted the spot next to her. Harry’s adrenaline began pouring into his bloodstream. He stumbled over and sat down. “Ginny?” Fleur asked, a teasing tone in her voice. Harry looked around, making sure no one was hiding in the corner. “Yes,” he admitted quietly. “How did you know?” Fleur rolled her eyes. “’Arry, I am a woman, I am French, and my grandmozzer was a Veela. You, ‘ow you English say, wear your emotions on your jacket. ‘Ow long ‘ave you desired her?” “Just a few days,” Harry said. “Zis is excellent news!” Fleur said. “We may eventually be family. Poor Gabrielle will be disappointed of course, but she should have known she was far too young.” “Family?” Harry said, confused. “If you marry,” Fleur said matter-of-factly. “Whoa!” Harry exclaimed. “I didn’t say that!” “You do not wish to marry?” Harry frowned. He had never thought that far ahead. His future was too encumbered; he could see nothing but Voldemort ahead. “Someday, maybe, I just.” Harry hesitated. “I can’t think about having a normal life right now.” Fleur frowned. “Just because zere is danger does not mean zere is no room for love.” “It will if that love puts people in danger,” Harry said. “Anyone close to me would be a target.” Harry slowly ran his fingers though his hair before vigorously shaking his head. “What am I even saying! Forget marriage, forget going out with me, she doesn’t fancy me anymore! Hermione told me that she gave up on me a long time ago.” Harry picked at a loose thread in the duvet. “She’s seeing someone anyway. A bloke named Dean.” Fleur sat in silence for a few seconds. Harry heard what sounded like a mouse skittering along the floorboards. Fleur put her hand on Harry’s shoulder. “You know ‘Arry, zere is a saying in France. ‘A keeper cannot stop a skilled chaser from scoring.’” Harry looked at her blankly. Fleur sighed. “It means true love cannot be stopped by an existing relationship.” “So, you think cheating is a good idea? Breaking people up?” “No! Never! If a relationship is not true love, zen zere is nuzzing wrong wizz trying to find it wizz somebody else!” Harry nodded. Fleur was very convincing when she needed to be, especially when she was in close physical proximity. Fleur stood and turned to go. She hesitated and turned back. “Good luck, Harry,” she whispered in his ear. Every single hair on Harry’s body stood on end. She kissed his cheek and then swept out of the room. Harry sat in thought for a few moments before stiffening his resolve. Fleur was right. If Dean and Ginny were meant to be together, then Harry wouldn’t be able to break them up anyway. On the other hand . . . Harry was still pondering his situation when his door opened again. He looked up just in time to see Ginny’s extended wand. “Petrificus totalus!” Harry’s arms snapped to his sides, and his legs sprang together. Harry fell back, his entire body rigid with the top half on the mattress and his heels on the floor. A surge of panic shot through him. Why was Ginny attacking him? Ginny quickly closed the door and cast an imperturbable charm. She dashed over and slapped him hard on the cheek. “YOU BASTARD!” she screamed. She slapped him again and screamed the same thing. Then again. Harry’s cheek was on fire. Pain tendrils spread out from the impact and burrowed deep into his face. He was utterly confused, but the pain was too intense to be able to think clearly enough to figure out what was happening. Ginny loomed over him, radiating with fury. Her cheeks were flushed, and a wildfire burned behind her eyes. Her nostrils flared with every hyperventilating breath. The breaths gradually began to slow. Ginny took a step back and extended her wand. “Finite Incantatem,” she whispered. Harry slumped to the floor. He lunged for his wand. “Stupefy!” Harry opened his eyes to find himself laying on the floor, flat on his back. Ginny’s wand was again pointed at his head. “Don’t. Move.” Ginny growled. Harry could only reach one conclusion. “Who are you?” Harry snapped. “Polyjuice or Imperious?” Now it was Ginny’s turn to look confused. “What?” “Ginny wouldn’t attack me,” Harry said confidently. “So, who are you?” “Who am I? Who are you?! The Harry I thought I knew would never do this to my family!” “What are you talking about?” Harry shouted. “You think you can just go behind everyone’s backs like this?” Ginny was near tears. “Bill loves her, God knows why, and this is just a game to you? This is Quidditch and he’s the Keeper?” “Ginny, I-“ Harry spied a flesh-coloured string on the floor next to him. He sighed as understanding shot into his brain. He slowly sat up. Ginny raised her wand threateningly. He gently stood with his hands raised as if she were a Muggle policeman holding him at gunpoint. “I don’t know what you heard,” he said slowly. “Whatever it was, you’re mistaken. Fleur wasn’t talking about me and her. She was giving me advice about a girl she knows I fancy.” Ginny’s face went slack. “I promise I would never do that to Bill,” Harry continued, keeping his voice calm and respectful as if he were approaching a hippogriff. “You know that.” “Oh.” It seemed as if the word involuntarily escaped her lips. Ginny’s wand fell from her fingers. She leaned against the wall and slowly sank to the floor before burying her head in her hands where it began to shake. Harry watched for a few seconds before sitting on the edge of the bed. Ginny looked up bearing a blotchy, tear-streaked face. “I don’t know what came over me,” she said. “Between what she said in the garden and what I heard just now. . .” her voice trailed off. Why did girls always cry around Harry? “I’m so sorry,” Ginny choked as a fresh round of tears arrived. Whatever anger Harry had been holding onto was washed away in the torrent of weeping. “I’m starting to regret those DA lessons,” Harry joked, trying to ease the tension. “Maybe I was too good a teacher.” Ginny chuckled and shook her head, wiping her eyes with her hand. “When did you learn the imperturbable charm?” he asked. “Isn’t that pretty advanced?” “Bill taught it to me,” Ginny said dully, glancing at Harry for the briefest of seconds before continuing to stare at the opposite wall. “I am so sorry.” Harry stood and extended his hand to her. Ginny looked at it for a second. “So, who is it?” Ginny asked as she grabbed his hand. “Huh?” Harry asked as he pulled her to her feet. “The girl you fancy. Do I know her?” Ginny stood inches away his face. Harry stood between her and the door. Harry looked down into her bloodshot eyes. Tear trails glistened down her freckled face. A wonderful floating feeling came over Harry. Every thought and worry in his head was gently wiped away. He vaguely remembered this feeling; it was exactly what the Imperius Curse felt like, but with one exception. He was doing this to himself, and he didn’t want to resist. “It’s you,” he whispered as he leaned in. Her lips were as soft and warm as he had imagined. Despite tears also being involved, it was nothing like kissing Cho. She had felt wet and clammy, like handling a Flobberworm. Ginny was like fire and flying in the rain. For the briefest moment, Harry felt her lips part and her tongue just barely -. Ginny’s hand met his cheek again in a smack that echoed around the room. Harry opened his eyes to find Ginny returned to her state of rage. “How dare you!” she growled. “You know I’m with Dean! Do you think I’m that kind of girl?” “I - “ “Who do you think you are?! Do you think I’ll just drop everything because the bloody Chosen One wants a snog?” Harry stood shell-shocked. How had the situation gone that wrong? Ginny shoved him aside and tried to yank open the door. It refused to budge. After a few tries, Ginny cursed and removed the imperturbable charm. She slammed the door behind her. Harry picked up a book and hurled it with all his strength. It satisfyingly smashed into the wall. He was reaching for another object to throw when the door opened again. “Harry?” Hermione asked. “Are you alright? What happened?” Harry rubbed his face with his hand. He checked to make sure it was just Hermione before sinking onto his bed. “I kissed Ginny,” he admitted, his stomach plunging into the ground. Hermione made a noise like a car that refused to start. Harry looked up. With her wide eyes and quivering mouth, she strongly resembled a fish stuck on a hook. Harry studied the floorboards until Hermione was able to summon a coherent thought. “Tell me everything,” she demanded as she hopped on the bed next to him. Harry reluctantly recounted an extremely brief synopsis. “Oh dear,” Hermione said as she examined Harry’s throbbing cheek. “This would have been a lot easier if Ginny hadn’t started going out with Dean.” “Why does every girl I kiss cry?” Harry grumbled. “And why does Ginny keep getting so angry with me? She’s like a deck of exploding snap cards, I never know what’s going to set her off.” Hermione grimaced. “Well, she might be a bit emotional for another day or two. Your timing really is abysmal. She’s going through a lot right now.” “More than knowing she has to face Voldemort?” Harry mumbled. Hermione looked at Harry with sympathy. “I know it’s not easy for you. It’s not easy for her either. You’re a boy she’s been pining after for ages. She finally accepts that you may never be interested in her that way, and she moves on. Then, you finally show her attention when she’s already with another boy she likes. I’m sure she hasn’t completely given up on you, but she doesn’t want to throw Dean over and leap at you just because you showed a hint of attraction.” Hermione sighed. “Add Fleur in the mix and you’ve got a recipe for emotional upheaval.” Harry looked at Hermione. “I need help. What do I do?” Hermione nodded and furrowed her brow in thought. “Well, I suppose the best thing to do is wait for her to calm down and then . . . pursue her.” “Pursue her?” “Make it clear you are actually interested in her and not just wanting a cheap snog.” Hermione looked at Harry doubtfully. “You are actually interested in her, right?” Harry nodded. “But what about Dean?” Hermione rolled her eyes. “Harry, they’re writing letters to each other, not getting married.” Harry contemplated this for a few seconds. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll do it. Pursue her, I mean.” “Oh, I’m so excited for you two!” Hermione squealed, clapping her hands in excitement. “I’ve been hoping for this for so long!” Hermione lunged at Harry and wrapped him in a bear-hug. Unprepared for the assault, Harry toppled over sideways as Hermione giggled in an un-Hermione-like fashion. A strangled cry came from the doorway. Ron glared at the two of them tangled together on Harry’s mattress. For the second time in the last five minutes, a beet-red Weasley slammed the door and thundered down the stairs. |
| Reviews 19 |
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