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Author: Delylah Story: Love Fool Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 10 Words: 26,482
Thursday Afternoon The minute his last class ended, Harry scrambled to return to his dormitory to change for Quidditch practice. He was looking forward to watching Ginny demonstrate the new plays they had discussed at breakfast. He dressed rapidly, then grabbed his broom and departed, leaving a still half-dressed Ron behind. He hoped that the rest of the team members would be late so that he might have a few minutes to speak to Ginny alone. About what, he wasn't certain, but it had occurred to him that anytime he and Ginny were together, there always seemed to be someone else around. As Harry drew closer to the pitch, he was disappointed to realize that today would be no different. Ginny was already there, yes, but so was Colin Creevey. The two of them were racing above the pitch. Ginny was tossing golf balls at Colin, who was diving after them. As Harry looked on, Ginny threw one that sailed far over Colin's shoulder. She called out an apology, then she swooped into a steep dive to retrieve the ball before it hit the ground. Harry's entire body tensed as he watched her spiral towards the earth. He closed the rest of the distance to the pitch at a dead run, determined to somehow keep her from killing herself. At the last second, Ginny plucked her prey out of the air, then pulled out of the dive as hard as she could, missing the ground by no more than a few inches. Harry skidded to a halt, feeling foolish. Ginny noticed him standing below and motioned for Colin to land. "Hi, Harry!" Ginny said, greeting him with a smile as she tossed him the golf ball she had just risked her neck to catch. "How long have you been standing there?" "Not long. That was a nice dive. Angling for my position, are you?" Ginny laughed and shook her head. "Not interested. I was just helping Colin practice. He said he may try out for Seeker next year, after you leave." "I've got nothing on you, though, Gin," Colin interjected as he walked up next to Ginny and slung his arm around her shoulders. "That dive was incredible! Harry's right. I bet you could give him a run for his money." "Not likely," Ginny replied in a wry voice. She made no move to dislodge Colin's arm from her shoulders, but instead, she gave him a slight bump with her hip. In retaliation, Colin attempted to pull her into a headlock, which Ginny escaped from easily. As he watched their antics, Harry found himself clenching the handle of his broomstick, imagining it was Colin's neck. Fortunately, the rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team members began arriving, forcing Harry to abandon his thoughts of homicide. To Harry's surprise, Ron was with them. "Ron, did Madame Pomfrey clear you for practice this afternoon?" Harry asked. "Yeah. Well, I didn't give her much of a choice about it," Ron explained. He leaned over and whispered, "Millicent came back." Harry nodded in understanding. "Glad you're feeling better." "So am I. What's this about an extra-long practice?" "Ginny and Colin have been working on some new moves for the Chasers. I want to implement them during Saturday's game with Ravenclaw. They're difficult, but I think if we work hard today and tomorrow we can pull it off." "Sounds like you just need the Chasers, then. Can't you give the rest of us a break?" a voice called from the back of the group. "Sloper, based on what I've heard of your performance last night, I'm inclined to make you stay even longer than everyone else," Harry retorted. Jack closed his mouth and hung his head. "Anyone else want to argue?" Harry snapped. "No? Good. The next person to utter a single word of complaint is going to be running laps around the pitch for the next hour." The disgruntled players remained completely silent, surprised by his outburst. Even Ron appeared to be taken aback. Harry didn't bother to examine the reasons for his sudden moodiness. He had a Quidditch game to win. At a signal from Harry, all of the players took to the air. They gathered in a circle above the pitch, with Ginny and Colin in the middle. Ginny produced the sketch she and Colin had drawn up and proceeded to charm it so that the entire team could see the plays they would be working on. Once everyone understood their roles, Harry instructed them in a scrimmage, then took a position higher up so that he could observe the team at work. Ginny flubbed the first attempt she made at a barrel roll pass above Colin's head. She overshot and wound up dropping the Quaffle so far in front of him that he was unable to catch it before another player intercepted the pass. The second time, however, the play came off like clockwork. She timed the maneuver perfectly so that Colin was in possession of the Quaffle as soon as he was in scoring position. Her face gleamed in triumph. Harry called a halt in the play to congratulate her. "Great job, Gin. Now let's see Colin try it." Colin was far less successful than Ginny. He made four attempts before he was able to pull the maneuver off properly. Twice he dropped the Quaffle behind Ginny; once, he forgot to drop it at all. When he was finally successful, Ginny zoomed towards him on her broom and hugged him tight. Harry's head began to ache from clenching his jaws together. "Good show, Creevey. Let's work on the next play now." This time Harry put Colin to work with his brother Dennis, who was the third Chaser on the team. They were to fly in tandem, passing the Quaffle back and forth. Ginny's role was to fly under them, then at the last minute swoop up between them and grab the Quaffle to score. Unfortunately, as Ginny was set to make her move, Jack Sloper aimed a Bludger at Colin. "Colin, watch out!" Ginny called Colin had already let go of the Quaffle. Ginny swerved towards him out of concern, and missed the pass entirely. Harry saw the entire exchange. He brought the game-play to a halt and zoomed over to where the Chasers hovered. "Ginny, what the hell were you doing?" he yelled. Ginny appeared bewildered by Harry's outburst, but she answered calmly, "Just warning Colin, Harry. Same as you would do." "You were supposed to be watching the Quaffle, not Creevey! Let him worry about the Bludgers. Your job is to make certain that ball goes through the hoop." "I know what my job is, Harry," Ginny replied icily. "Then act like it. I don't know about you, but I'd like to win on Saturday. That certainly won't happen if you play then the way you did just now." "As long as you do your job and catch the Snitch, winning won't be a problem," Ginny shot back. Harry loomed closer, furious at her remark, even if it was the truth. "I want twenty laps around the field, Weasley. Now," Harry ordered as he pointed towards the end of the field. Ginny's eyes flared, and her lips pressed together in a thin line. She didn't argue with Harry, however, she simply aimed her broom for the ground at the end of the pitch, where she dismounted and began running laps. By the time she had finished, Harry had called an end to practice. When he approached her, she refused to make eye contact with him, marching off towards the castle instead without a word to anyone. "Ginny, I want to talk to you," Harry called. She didn't stop. She didn't even make any indication that she had heard him. Harry started after her, but Ron placed a hand on his shoulder to stop him. "I wouldn't just now, if I were you," he cautioned. Harry made a noise of disgust and began gathering the different Quidditch balls together in order to store them properly. Ron helped, trapping one of the Bludgers until Harry could get it locked down. "Why'd you lay into her like that, Harry?" Ron finally asked. "She wasn't paying attention. Too busy ogling Colin, I guess. A lapse like that could cost us the game on Saturday." Harry had opened the Quidditch locker and was busy coaxing the Snitch back into its compartment. He missed the look of incredulity that preceded Ron's outburst of laughter. "What's so funny?" he demanded. Ron was so completely overcome that he was unable to answer Harry's question. He doubled over, holding his stomach, as if to contain himself. Harry felt his temper flare. "Look, there's no room for romance on the Quidditch pitch. If we'd been playing a real match, Ginny could have taken a Bludger to the head, letting herself get distracted like that." Ron finally managed to form a coherent sentence. "Ogling Colin? Have you gone mad?" "No. She's been like this ever since she drank the potion." Ron stopped laughing. "What potion?" Harry could have kicked himself. "The, um…" "What potion, Harry?" Ron asked, an edge creeping into his voice. Harry closed his eyes and braced for the worst. "I was brewing Imitor Ardoris for my midterm and Ginny… Ginny accidentally drank it," he said quickly. "Accidentally?" Ron squeaked. "It was in a butterbeer bottle. She didn't know what it was," Harry explained. Ron relaxed, but still appeared puzzled. "So, what's that got to do with Creevey?" he asked. Harry slammed the Quidditch locker shut and began fiddling with the lock. "Ever since then, every time I turn around, he's got his hands on her and she's flirting with him," he said in a low voice, glancing sideways at Ron, who appeared even more confused. "What, did you use some of Colin's hair to brew the potion?" "Of course not. I used mine," Harry replied shortly. "Then what on earth would make you think Ginny fancies Colin?" Ron asked in a tone that clearly indicated he thought Harry was shy a few marbles. When Harry shrugged, he continued, "If you used your hair, she should fancy you." "You'd think, wouldn't you? Couldn't prove it by me. For the most part, I seem to be beneath her notice," Harry complained. Ron stared at Harry incredulously. "You've got a thing for Ginny, don't you?" he asked as a smile began at the corners of his mouth. "No!" Harry shot back, flushing. "It's just that Snape's grading my potion based on whether or not it affected Ginny. And I seem to be failing miserably." "How's that?" "Ginny hasn't been acting any differently around me than she normally does," Harry replied sullenly. Ron's grin widened. "Well, she wouldn't, would she?" "What's that supposed to mean?" Harry snapped. Ron rolled his eyes. "Harry, you're an idiot." He shook his head and began walking towards the castle, leaving Harry staring after him. Several meters away, he turned back and called out, "You'd better apologize to Ginny. I wouldn't want to be in your shoes once she dreams up a way to get back at you. And you know she will." Harry sighed. Maybe Ron had a point. Ginny was not known for acting with restraint when her temper had been riled, and she had easy access to Fred and George's "experimental" products. If he didn't smooth things over with her, she was liable to poison his pumpkin juice one morning when he wasn't looking. At least then I would know I'd provoked some kind of reaction, thought Harry as he trudged off to the castle alone. ~~~~~~~~~~ When Harry and Ron finished changing out of their Quidditch gear, they descended the steps to the common room to find Hermione waiting for them, alone. Ron glanced at Harry with one eyebrow raised, as if to say, I told you so. Harry ignored him and spoke to Hermione. "Where's Ginny?" he asked "She already left," Hermione replied, refusing to meet Harry's eyes. "She said she was really hungry and didn't want to wait." "Was that all she said?" Harry pressed. "No, it wasn't, but I don't care to repeat the rest, Harry. Ginny swears worse than Ron when she's angry. And I don't know if I've ever seen her this angry before. Harry, what did you–oh, never mind. We can talk about it later. I'm hungry too; I almost walked down with her instead of waiting on you two. Ron ate the lion's share of the food I carried to the hospital wing at lunch." Hermione followed Ron over to the portrait hole. Ron stepped through first, then held the portrait open for Hermione and Harry. As Harry climbed through, Ron whispered, "What'd I tell you, mate?" Harry glared at him. "I'll apologize at supper," he said shortly. Unfortunately, he didn't get that chance. Ginny was seated in her usual spot; Colin was next to her. When she looked up and saw Harry walking towards her, she whispered something to Colin, then stood up from the bench and began walking towards the door. When she passed by, Harry caught her arm. "Ginny, wait," he hissed. Ginny jerked her arm from his grasp and brushed past him without a word, her face pale save for her cheeks, which were stained with two spots of red. An outside observer may have thought she was embarrassed, but Harry could see that she was still seething with anger. He watched her go, then stalked over to where Ron and Hermione were waiting at the Gryffindor table. "Harry–" Hermione began, but at a stony look from Harry, she simply shook her head and began eating. Ron gave him a small smile of sympathy, but he, too soon busied himself with his meal. Harry ate as quickly he could then left so as not to be subjected any further to the curious gazes of his housemates and the snickers from certain members of Slytherin house. He paused in the corridor, wondering which way Ginny had gone, then immediately regretted his hesitation when Snape's voice called out behind him. "You don't seem to be making much progress, Mr. Potter." Harry tensed in reaction to the professor's mocking tone, but he turned to answer. "I'm not comfortable with the idea of having my grade based on whether or not Ginny throws herself at me," he said stiffly. "You should have thought of that before you stored your potion in a butterbeer bottle," the professor replied smoothly. "Can't you just analyze the potion itself?" "I'm afraid the bottle met with an unfortunate accident. One of the house elves seems to have disposed of it last night when they tidied my office." Snape paused and made a tutting sound as he shook his head. "Too bad, Potter. I only hope the creature disposed of it properly. House elves have a certain fondness for butterbeer, as I recall." Harry ignored the professor's jibe. "What, exactly, do I have to do in order to pass this examination?" he demanded. "You don't have to do anything, Potter. The burden of proof rests entirely on Miss Weasley's shoulders. By this point she should be showering you with attention, and instead, she seems to be repelled by your mere presence. I wonder why?" Harry was too frustrated to even attempt an answer. Professor Snape stood staring at him for a moment, then said, "Twenty-four hours, Potter. Twenty-four hours." He may have been mistaken, but Harry could have sworn that Snape was practically skipping as he headed for the dungeons. Harry returned to Gryffindor tower, hoping that Ginny had settled herself in the common room to study. He should have known she would never make things that easy for him; the common room was empty. He collapsed onto the sofa and stewed in front of the fireplace until Ron and Hermione returned from supper. "She hasn't come back yet?" Hermione asked gently. Harry shook his head in response, refusing to look away from the fire. "You just going to sit there all night?" Ron asked. Harry nodded. Ron sighed in exasperation and left, stomping loudly up the stairs to the seventh-year boys' dormitory. Hermione, however, came to sit next to Harry on the sofa. She patted his hand softly in an attempt to comfort him. "Do you want me to talk to her, Harry?" "No. I want her to talk to me." Hermione said nothing for a moment, then spoke cautiously. "Harry, the way I heard it, you gave her a dressing down in front of the entire Quidditch team for absolutely no reason. It's no wonder she isn't speaking to you." Harry pictured Ginny hugging Colin and felt his earlier anger returning. "I'm the captain," he said sharply. "It's my job to discipline team members when they're out of line, and Ginny was definitely out of line. She was—" "Ogling Colin?" Hermione finished in a teasing voice. Harry made a noise of disgust. "You don't understand." "I'm sorry, Harry. Explain it to me. Maybe I can help." Harry grunted in disbelief. "Not bloody likely. Listen, I have some studying to do; I thought I might go to the library. We've still got the midterm examination left for Transfiguration, and I needed to look a few things up. Do you want to come?" "All right. Let me grab my things." Ron declined to accompany them, saying that he thought instead he would nip back down to the infirmary for another dose of tonic as he wasn't feeling quite up to snuff. The whole way there, Hermione chattered about the topics Professor McGonagall was likely to cover on the test while Harry nodded or shook his head at the appropriate intervals. When they reached the library, the sight Harry beheld at one of the tables was enough to make him want to turn around and walk straight back to Gryffindor Tower. Ginny was there, seated next to Dean Thomas, who was holding a large book at an angle so Ginny couldn't see it; he appeared to be quizzing her on material from the text. "I don't believe it," Harry muttered just loudly enough for Hermione to hear. "You don't believe what?" "Her. First Creevey, now Thomas." Hermione stopped in her tracks and looked sharply at Harry, the beginnings of a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "Harry, why does it matter to you who Ginny is sitting with?" Harry sighed and grabbed her by the elbow, guiding her to a table far away from, but not out of sight, of Ginny and Dean. He hefted his rucksack onto the table, where it landed with a loud thunk, and cringed when Madame Pince sent him a withering glare. Shrugging apologetically, he slid into his seat across from Hermione and began pulling books from his bag at random. "Harry?" she said expectantly. Harry rolled his eyes. He had hoped she would drop the subject once books were spread in front of her. Glancing up, he saw she had no intention of dropping the subject, and he sighed again in frustration. "You remember the potion I brewed?" Hermione frowned in concentration. "You mean the love potion?" "Yeah. Well, Ginny drank some of it." Hermione stared at him, aghast. "Harry, why did you give Ginny some of your potion?" "I didn't. I forgot my vial so I put it in a butterbeer bottle, and she drank some before I could stop her." Hermione sat quietly for a moment, absorbing this information. "I don't understand. What does that have to do with Ginny and Colin? Or Dean?" "When Professor Snape found out, he decided he would base my grade on Ginny's reaction to the potion." "And?" Hermione prompted. Harry felt his cheeks burn as he answered. "And she's flirting with everyone in Gryffindor but me!" Hermione smiled and glanced over at the table Ginny shared with Dean. "Harry, you're being ridiculous. Ginny and Dean are just friends. They're studying together. It's not like they're snogging." Harry followed her glance, glowering at Dean's back. "Maybe. But didn't she say she had a thing for him once, on the train home?" Hermione glanced back at him with a look of surprise, but then shifted her attention to her own rucksack. As she began arranging her textbooks carefully on the table, she commented casually, "Yes, I think she did mention that, Harry, over a year and a half ago. I'm surprised you remember it." Harry looked away from her, his gaze drifting towards Ginny once again. She sat in profile, frowning thoughtfully as she answered Dean's questions, seemingly unaware of his scrutiny. "Just because I don't gab about everyone and everything doesn't mean I don't notice what's going on around me," he said finally. Hermione nodded. She had opened one of her books and was making notes on a clean sheet of parchment. Without looking up, she asked quietly, "Harry, what's really bothering you?" Harry shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He should have known better than to invite Hermione to the library. "When you said she was over me a long time ago, I was glad to hear it. I never really knew how to act around Ginny, and it was so much easier when she started talking to me. We got to be friends. Good friends." "Of course." "Now…she's taken this potion, and it's supposed to make her act like she's in love with me. Only, she's not. Acting that way, I mean. So, I can't help but wonder, why? Why not me? What's so wrong with me?" "Harry, nothing is wrong with you. Love potions are extremely unpredictable, you know that." He grunted noncommittally. Across the way, Ginny giggled softly at something Dean had drawn on a sheet of paper. As Harry watched, she nudged Dean playfully with her toe under the table. Harry closed his book and shoved it away from him across the table, then he stood so abruptly that he nearly knocked his chair backwards. "That's it. I'm going to have a talk with her," he said as he started across the room. "Harry, wait," Hermione called after him "I don't think that's a good idea…." But by that time Harry was already too close to Ginny to turn back. By the stiffening of her shoulders, he surmised she had noticed him walking towards her. He did not stop until he was standing directly in front of her so that she couldn't pretend not to see him. "Ginny, could I talk to you for a minute?" Ginny looked up. "I'm in the middle of studying, Harry," she said in a tone that would have frozen pepper imps. "It won't take long," Harry assured her. "And I'm not leaving until I do." Ginny huffed, but she got up from her seat and followed Harry into the stacks at the back of the room, where they wouldn't be overheard. She leaned against one of stacks and adopted a forbidding pose, folding her arms across her chest and schooling her features into an expression of disinterest. "I hate it when you look at me like that. It makes me feel like I'm a slimy bit of something you'd find at the bottom of one of Snape's jars in the potions storeroom. Or worse, a Slytherin," he joked, hoping to crack her composure. Ginny remained silent, but the frostiness in her eyes began to melt away. Harry took that as a good sign and continued. "Gin, I'm sorry I came down so hard on you at practice. You didn't deserve it. I guess I just kind of lost my head, what with the Ravenclaw game coming up." And Colin Creevey leering at you every time I turn around. Slowly Ginny's posture relaxed. She took a deep breath, then exhaled and said, "I accept your apology, Harry." "You do? Really?" Harry was shocked. He'd been certain she would make him sweat a little before she forgave him. He knew she was every bit as good at holding grudges as Ron. "Yes, really. But I want to know why, Harry. You embarrassed me terribly in front of the entire team, and poor Colin, too. There has to be some reason other than the Ravenclaw game. You weren't this rabid when we played Slytherin last term." Harry winced and closed his eyes. Ginny had unfortunately asked the one question he didn't know if he could answer. He scrambled to think of a plausible excuse for his behavior during practice. "It's just…. I've noticed…. You've been hanging around Creevey an awful lot lately." Ginny laughed. "So?" she asked. "So, I don't think you should." The expression in Ginny's eyes cooled significantly again. "Why not?" "I've…I've heard things about him." "Really?" Ginny drawled. "What kinds of things, Harry?" "That he…that he's fast." Ginny shrugged. "What if he is? What business is it of yours?" Harry couldn't answer; her implication had rekindled his earlier anger, and he could not make himself form a response. "That's what I thought," Ginny said. She turned to walk past Harry, but he blocked her path. "Look, are you just trying to irritate me?" he demanded in a harsh whisper. Ginny appeared shocked. "Harry, what's gotten into you? What are you talking about?" "You know damn well what I'm talking about. You… Colin… Dean… every time I've seen you for the past two days, you've been flirting with some bloke." And none of them have been me, Harry fumed silently. "You're supposed to be…." "Yes?" Ginny asked, a knowing expression crossing her face. Mine. For the next 24 hours, at least, you're supposed to be mine. But Harry couldn't bring himself to say it. He ground his teeth together while Ginny tapped impatiently with her foot. Finally, just as she turned to leave, he spoke. "Look, I know what you're doing, Ginny." Ginny paused and glanced over her shoulder at him. "And that would be what?" she asked. "You're pretending the potion didn't work by paying attention to other guys instead." Ginny rounded on Harry indignantly. "Of all the arrogant, conceited, ridiculous things to say! Harry, this may come as news to you, but a person can neither fake the effects of a love potion, nor can they fake NOT being affected by a love potion. They don't work that way, otherwise, what's the point?" "You forget, Ginny, I've seen you in action, and I know you're a terrific actress. You're cool as a cucumber even when you're lying to your own mum. You could pull it off." "Even if I could, why would I, Harry? Knowing full well that Professor Snape is basing your grade on my reaction to your potion, why would I pretend not to be affected? Do you think I want you to fail?" Harry was momentarily stumped. His arguments had sounded reasonable, in his head, before she had to go and poke holes him them. "I… I…" he stammered. "Do you really think so little of me, Harry, that I would let my own pride get in the way in a situation like this? I thought we were friends. I thought you knew…." "Knew what?" Ginny shook her head, refusing to finish her sentence. Instead she just stood there, looking at him reproachfully. Harry swallowed hard, ashamed of himself. He did know Ginny better than that. How could he explain to her why he had reacted so badly, when he couldn't even begin to explain to himself? "Harry, you may not want to admit it, but I've not been acting any differently towards you or anyone else than I have for the past two years." "That's the problem. You drank a love potion, Ginny. It should have had some effect. What's so wrong with me that you're completely immune? Scar is a turnoff? Not tall enough? Not smart enough?" Ginny's eyes narrowed, and she opened her mouth as if to reply, but then she snapped it shut again. "What? Go on, what were you going to say?" Harry demanded. "If I'm not reacting to the potion the way you think I should, Harry, then there must be a perfectly good reason. Maybe you should do a bit of research on the subject, and find out what went wrong," Ginny suggested calmly. "I followed every instruction to the letter. That potion was authentic. If there's anything wrong here, it's something to do with you." Ginny gazed levelly at Harry for a long moment, her expression inscrutable. "You're probably right, Harry," she agreed, nodding. She walked away then, leaving him shaking with pent up frustration and…something else he couldn't quite put a name on. He only knew that he had never met a more stubborn, troublesome, infuriating witch than Ginny Weasley. He gave up any hope of getting any studying done and, after stopping to plead a headache to Hermione, returned to his dormitory for the rest of the evening.
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