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Author: Malfidus Story: The Mentor Rating: Young Teens Setting: Pre-OotP Status: Abandoned Reviews: 0 Words: 27,022
As Harry descended the stairs from Ginny's bedroom, the noise that drifted in from the kitchen told him that Fred, George, and Ron were still at each other. Not particularly wanting to join the fray, he waited a minute until the squabble had died down, then moved over to Ron. "Let's go play some Quidditch in the orchard," he said. "All right," agreed Ron. "Anything to get away from these two gits," he said, motioning to Fred and George. "Hey!" protested Fred. "We're not gits!" "Yeah," said his twin. "We're just exuberant!" Ron rolled his eyes. "Okay, you exuberant gits. Let Harry get his Firebolt and take his trunk upstairs for him." Fred and George looked mischievously at each other, but Harry got their attention. "And if you do anything to it, I'll get back at you at Hogwarts. I didn't win the Triwizard Tournament for nothing; I know some good hexes," Harry said as he unearthed his Firebolt racing broom from his trunk. He shut it, and then watched the twins' retreating backs as they heaved the heavy trunk up the stairs to Ron's room. Harry didn't trust them as far as he could throw them, which wasn't far. Ron grabbed his broom from the corner, an old Shooting Star, shook some dust off it, and followed Harry out the front door of the Burrow. They had walked for a minute or two before Harry said, "So, what's going on with you and Hermione?" The rhythm in Ron's pace faltered. "What do you mean?" he said, perhaps a bit too quickly. "You were kind of slow there on the uptake at breakfast," he pointed out. "Yeah?" said Ron defensively. "What's your point?" "C'mon, Ron! I'm your best friend! You can tell me. What's going on with you two?" "It's nothing," surrendered Ron. "We've just been owling each other more often than usual. I just miss her . . . and I'm worried about her . . . I mean, because of the war and everything. . ." His sentence trailed off as he turned a violent shade of red to match his hair. "You know that's not it," accused Harry. "Seriously, Harry. I don't know what's going on! She's just seemed a bit, er, I don't know . . . odd lately." "How so?" "Well, for one thing, she won't tell me why she didn't go visit Krum, and she's acting a little weird. It's like she wants us to spend more time together." "So," suggested Harry, "maybe you should." Ron looked at him blankly. "You know, like you figured out last year, she's a girl. . ." Ron blushed. "You're not saying. . ." "Sure I am, you git! You should ask her out." "What?!" shouted Ron, dropping his Shooting Star. "Ask out Hermione?! No way! She's our friend!" Harry stooped to pick up Ron's broom and handed it to him. "Ron, don't you see? She likes you! Why do you think she didn't visit Krum?" Ron stopped walking altogether and turned to look right at Harry. "But Harry! She's Hermione! Miss-Book-Worm, Know-It-All Hermione! There's no chance she'll go out with me, a thick-headed git who doesn't give a damn about his exams!" "But she puts up with all that! She likes you even though you call her that stuff and despite your thick-headedness. That, mate, is the sign of either a really good friend, or someone who likes you," Harry said. "Come on, we're almost at the orchard." Ron sighed and kept on walking. "But wouldn't you care if I started going out with your best friend?" Harry was silent for a moment as he contemplated an appropriate response. "Ron, you and Hermione are both my good friends, and at any rate, I'm not interested in her like that. Nothing would make me happier than seeing my two best friends starting a romantic relationship together." "You're serious? I mean, er, hypothetically, if Hermione and I paired off, you would be more or less left alone, I guess. Who would you pair up with?" Harry laughed out loud. "I don't know." He paused, and decided to tease Ron a bit. "Perhaps . . . er . . . Ginny!" he proclaimed finally. Ron stared at him. "You wouldn't!" "Of course not!" Harry said, laughing. "She's your little sister!" But Harry wasn't so sure. It had felt like they had had some sort of bond or connection between them for a brief moment when he was in her room with her. And when Harry though more carefully about her, he realized that she was a really cool person. She had always been nice, sympathetic, smart, beautif. . . No, Harry caught himself in mid-thought. This is Ron's little sister. I can't think about her that way. But he still couldn't keep his mind completely off Ginny; even flying through the orchard on his Firebolt throwing around an apple, which they were using in place of a Quaffle, wouldn't help. Images of her, both happy and sad, kept flashing up in his mind. Laughing, her fiery red hair swirling behind her, catching the light just so; crying, her clear, smooth tears streaming down her cream-coloured face, over her numerous freckles, past her chin. . . Harry couldn't take it anymore. He called over to Ron that he'd had enough Quidditch. He landed in the middle of the orchard as Ron came over to him. "What's up, Harry?" "I don't know. I guess I'm getting a bit tired. Maybe we could play a game of chess?" "Tired? You've played longer games than this at Hogwarts!" Harry glared at him. "Alright, whatever," said Ron, so they set off back to the house. *** Harry kept trying, although unsuccessfully, to keep himself from thinking of Ginny. He knew Ron wouldn't like it if he spoke his mind right now, as his thoughts currently consisted of images of Ginny looking stunning in her dress robes from the Yule Ball last year. Harry decided that he should probably start a conversation with Ron, as the silence between them was making him feel successively more uncomfortable as time progressed. Finally, he said, "So, any new thoughts on what to do about Hermione?" "Harry," said Ron, "we've been playing Quidditch. I couldn't possibly think about anything except trying not to get hit in the face with an apple!" Here he paused, thinking. "You do have a strong toss, you know," he added as an afterthought. "You could probably even be a Chaser, like your dad." Harry blushed slightly. "Quidditch runs in my family, I guess." "Wish it did as much in mine," sulked Ron. "Fred and George and Charlie have the only Quidditch blood in the family. I mean, I'm no good, and Ginny-" "You know," interrupted Harry, "I've never seen her play." "That's because she doesn't. Not her sport." "Does she play any sports?" asked Harry. "Not unless stealing socks counts," said Ron. Harry was confused. "What do you mean?" he asked. "Ever since the end of term, she's been stealing all our socks," Ron explained simply, shrugging. "Why?" "No idea. At first, we thought it was the ghoul in the attic, but then Percy caught her in the act. Just don't tell her you know – we all promised her we wouldn't tell you." "Right, then," said Harry, suppressing an urge to start laughing. "So, when she's not pinching all your socks, what does she do?" "Actually," said Ron, "she's taken up chess. Not too bad, either." "Seriously?" asked Harry. "In that case, I want to see how good she really is." "Alright, but I warn you – she can even beat me on a regular basis! But when I do manage to beat her, she gets pretty moody." "Isn't she already these days?" "No thanks to you," started Ron. "If you hadn't gone and—" "Shut it, Ron. We've talked about it a little bit already." "Really? What did you guys figure out?" prompted Ron. "Nothing yet. But we'll work something out." "What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Ron was looking daggers at Harry. "If you can't get my sister happy again, I won't sleep again until I can work the Cruciatus Curse and I've used it on you." "Ron, you know that's illegal." "You're starting to sound like Hermione, Harry." "Then ask me out," joked Harry. "You'll need the practice." Ron seemed to cheer up a bit at this, though, so Harry continued their previous conversation. "Anyway, I told Ginny to tell me when she thinks of a way to forgive me." Ron chuckled. "Bad idea, Harry. You'll end up giving her all your socks!" "What?" laughed Harry. "All my socks? That's ridiculous!" "How about this. . ." Ron suggested as they approached the Burrow's front door. ". . . Why don't you wager one pair of socks on a chess game?" Harry considered the possibility. This way, he could see how good Ginny really was at chess while spending time with her at the same time. "That sounds good, or at least better than outright giving her all my socks." As he said this, he opened the front door to the Burrow and stepped inside. "I'll go see what she thinks of the idea now." Harry left Ron in the kitchen while he went up to Ginny's room. But as he approached her closed bedroom door, he hesitated. What would he say to her? He had begun to see Ginny a little bit differently since this situation with his letter, and he didn't want to say the wrong thing. Finally, he decided that he would just see how things went and go from there, and so he knocked on her door. "Come in," Ginny said. Harry opened the door and stepped inside. "What is it, Harry?" Ginny asked, frowning and avoiding Harry's eyes. "Well," he began, "when Ron and I were down at the orchard playing Quidditch, he told me that you're quite a chess player." Ginny blushed. "I'm not that good. Ron taught me everything I know—" "—and I can't even beat Ron. C'mon, Ginny. It'll be fun. I did say I wanted to get to know you better, and this would be a good opportunity." Ginny sighed. "Okay, why not?" She stood up from her bed, but as she did so, Harry noticed something familiar about her feet. Something was familiar about the Snitches on the green background. . . "Ginny?" he asked, utterly bewildered. "Are those my socks you're wearing?" A slight smirk and a blush crossed her face. "And if they are?" Harry got a sudden idea. "How about this; if you win our chess game, you can have my socks and I won't ask why you were wearing them in the first place." Harry watched Ginny's face light up. "But if I win, I get my socks back, and you tell me why you pinched them." Ginny grinned. "Okay, Mr. Potter. Kiss your socks goodbye." *** "Now, where's that chessboard?" Harry ran his fingers through his hair as he pulled the cushion off the living room couch in search of the board. Harry, Ron, and Ginny had been looking unsuccessfully for the last quarter of an hour. Harry looked at Ron. "Would your mum and dad know?" Ron groaned. "They're probably playing Deturrbocus again." Harry looked at Ginny, who, despite her frustration at not finding the chessboard, was slightly amused. "Mum? Dad?" Ron called. "Do you guys have the chessboard?" Mrs. Weasley's singsong voice drifted from her room upstairs. "Hang on, dear! Give us one more round!" "Bugger," said Ron. "They do have the board. Come on." Ron started running up the stairs, and Harry and Ginny followed. "Ron," said Harry, mounting the stairs, "you still haven't told me what ‘Desturbohiss'. . ." "Deturrbocus," corrected Ron. "De-TERB-uh-kiss." "Right, well you never really told me what that is," he said, reaching the top of the stairs. Ron opened the door to the master bedroom. "That—" he said, motioning into the room "—is Deturrbocus." Harry looked inside the room where Ron had motioned. He saw Mr. and Mrs. Weasley standing over a table on which sat an hourglass, and the chessboard, which was covered in many identical pieces strewn about the board, each looking like a miniature Muggle bowling pin covered in leather. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were pointing small wands (about six inches long each) at the board, muttering spells at the tiny pins, causing them to topple over. After watching a few seconds, the hourglass let off a shrill ding! and Mr. Weasley let out a triumphant cry. "Yes! That's my sixth turba! I win!" "What's a turba?" asked Harry, intrigued. Mr. Weasley set down his miniature wand down to look at him. "In Deturrbocus, the game continues until one player has won six turbae. Within each turba, there are two rounds so each player can switch Objectives." "What's an Objecti—" Harry began, but Ron cut him off. "Don't worry about it," he said in a low voice so that his mum and dad wouldn't hear him. "Only older people like Dumbledore and my parents and Mrs. Figg like Deturrbocus. Dumbledore's supposed to be really good at it, but I personally just don't see the point." "Seems kind of boring to me," Ginny agreed quietly. Harry was eager to know more, but before he could ask anything, Ron turned to his parents and said, "So, can we have the chessboard now?" "Of course, dear," said Mrs. Weasley cheerfully. She cleared the tiny pins into a small aluminium container and stuffed the hourglass in with them. She held out the chessboard for Ron. "Thanks," he said, taking the chessboard from his mum. He turned to leave the room, and Harry (who sent a longing look back into the master bedroom) and Ginny followed. Once on the stairs, Ron paused and turned to face Harry and Ginny. "I'll leave you two to play, then?" he said. "Sure," said Harry. He took the chessboard from Ron, who began up the stairs towards his top-floor bedroom, and proceeded down the stairs with Ginny. They reached the living room and the table on which they would play, where the chessmen were patiently waiting. Harry set the board on the table, and flopped into a chair by its side. Ginny followed suit as he began to set up the chess pieces. When he finished setting up, Harry said to Ginny, "Remember, if you win, you keep my socks and your reason for having them. If I win, you give me my socks back and tell me why you nicked them." He held out his hand for Ginny to accept the bet. "Right," she said, shaking his hand. But as she did so, Harry felt an odd tingling sensation run up his arm from where Ginny had touched him, causing him to drop Ginny's hand quickly. Fortunately, Ginny made nothing of it. "Do you want to go first?" he asked her. "Alright," she said. She began to direct her pawn up the board. *** Their game lasted a long time. Two hours after they had started, they were still at it, pieces scattered about the board in strategic positions. They had to stop for a half-hour, however, when Mrs. Weasley called them to lunch. But immediately after, they returned to their game, battling with even more desire. "Queen to g-6," Harry directed the chess piece, capturing Ginny's bishop. Finally, he thought to himself. Two more moves and I've got her! His queen had opened a row straight through the board, while at the same time trapping Ginny's king in the corner. He smiled at his inevitable victory. But, unfortunately, a smirk crossed Ginny's face as well as she said "Rook to b-1." Harry glanced at her move, discarding it momentarily in preparation to make his next move. But then he took a double-take as Ginny said "Checkmate," triumphantly. Harry stared at the board yet again, realizing that she was right. Once again, and probably not for the last time, he had lost a chess game to a Weasley. "Chess must run in your family," he said, reaching across the board to shake Ginny's hand. "Nice game." "Thanks," she said. "You played well, too." She shook his hand. "Thanks," he said. "You know, two more moves and I'd have got you." "Yes, I know," said Ginny with an air of superiority. Harry stood there for a minute, but the silence between them was becoming even more uncomfortable. "So," said Harry, "what now?" "Well," said Ginny, "I have a bit of schoolwork I need to do—" she pulled a face "—for Snape." Harry looked slightly disappointed, but Ginny said, "This was fun though, Harry. We should play again some time." And she marched off, her head tilted back confidently, making sure to move her feet in such a way they Harry couldn't miss her new socks. Harry was slightly confused as he watched Ginny's fiery red hair sway with every step. Why hadn't Ginny forgiven him? He had shown her respect, even spent time with her when instead he could have been playing Gobstones with Ron, and Ginny still seemed distant with him. Maybe, he realized, this matter wasn't something so simple that a mere chess game could fix it. This was about Ginny's feelings, he concluded, and he needed to show her that he could, in fact, respect them. But how would he do that? He had already apologized to her, and they were still barely on speaking terms. Harry didn't have much time to brood on this, however, because at that very moment, a figure appeared in the fireplace next to the sofa. After a second, it stepped out of the fireplace with its luggage. "Hermione!" said Harry. He headed toward his best friend who set down her luggage. She swept him into a sisterly hug. "Harry! It's so good to see you! How have you been?" He backed away to look at her properly when he spoke. "I've been all right. I got here this morning." Harry eyed Hermione quizzically. "When did you ever get any Floo powder? I mean, your parents are Muggles, and. . . ." "Didn't I tell you?" she asked, and Harry shook his head. "I though I did. Oh, well. Anyway, Ron sent me some with Pig, and Mr. Weasley hooked my house up to the Floo network." "Right," said Harry. "That makes sense." For a moment, however, Hermione looked at Harry critically. Finally, she spoke. "Ron told me about Ginny." Harry began to interject here, but Hermione cut him off. "I can't believe you did that to her, Harry. You know how she's felt about you all these years. How—" "Look, Hermione," Harry interrupted. "We've already talked about it." "And. . . ?" "And she's still working out how to let this go." "As well she should be," said Hermione. "You don't go messing around with other people's feelings, Harry." "Hermione, I know! Ginny and I have already been through this!" "So, what are—" she began, but she was interrupted by Ron's voice drifting down the stairs. "Hermione? Is that you?" Ron's face peered through the doorway. Upon noticing his friend, Ron moved across the room to greet her. "Hey," he said timidly. Then, to his surprise, Hermione threw her arms around him. "I've missed you so much, Ron!" she said. "It's so good to see you again!" Harry sent Ron a look over Hermione's shoulder as if to say ‘I told you so!' Ron glared back at Harry, but he seemed to get the message. When they broke apart, Ron hesitated, but then seemed to make up his mind as he said, staring at the floor, "You know, Hermione, I've been thinking, and I think that we should, er, start, er, spending more time together." Hermione looked as if all of her dreams had just come true. She looked right at Ron as she said, "Ron, that would be wonderful!" Took them long enough! Harry thought as he watched Ron's face turn scarlet. A/N Ginny's sock stealing is Imogen's idea which I am using it with her permission. (Thanks, Imogen!) And just so you know, there is more Deturrbocus to come. I may even be posting the rules soon. J
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