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Author: Basil M Story: The Harry/Ginny Chronicles Rating: Teens Setting: Pre-HBP Status: Completed Reviews: 3 Words: 12,818
For what wasn't the first time in his life, Harry Potter felt that all eyes in the Great Hall were on him. When he managed to drag his gaze up from the package that had just landed unceremoniously in his cereal bowl, he found, to his relief, that this was not actually the case. For once. What he did find, however, was of no comfort. Ron—the one person he really didn't want to be questioned by—and Hermione were both staring at him. Harry quickly pulled the package from his cereal bowl, so it wouldn't get soggy. A surreptitious glance down the table told him that Ginny was still captivated by a story Colin Creevey was telling. Her musical laughter just barely reached his ears over the clamor of breakfast. At least she hadn't noticed. "Listen," Harry said to Ron and Hermione. "I'm going to go back up to the tower for a bit. I'll meet you in Potions." To his horror, both Ron and Hermione stood up when he made to leave the table. "Going to drop that off?" asked Ron looking at his package pointedly. "It's all right, we'll come with you." Hermione, for her part, looked torn between curiosity and giving Harry some space. Apparently it wasn't too hard a choice, because she followed Ron and Harry out of the Great Hall. Fortunately, Harry had the sense to round off Ron's interrogation by asking Hermione about her N.E.W.T.s revision timetable, which had her talking all the way up to Gryffindor Tower. Ron was silent as he followed Harry up the stairwell, and as Harry put the package into his trunk, he thought that perhaps Ron had decided to let the subject drop. He should have known better. When he turned around, he found that Ron was blocking his path, and Harry was suddenly struck by how tall Ron had become. Tall and broad. In fact, Harry was pretty sure that, if it ever came down to it, Ron would have not trouble whatsoever kicking his arse. "What's in the package, Harry?" Honesty's the best policy, right? And he's going to find out sooner or later… "It's, well, a present for Ginny. You know. For her birthday." "Oh. Ok." Harry wasn't positive, but he thought he saw the beginning of a small smile before Ron turned around and walked to the door. That's it? No questions? Surely Ron was wondering why he hadn't simply bought Ginny a present at Hogsmeade the weekend before. Of course, then Harry would have to explain that you couldn't get special trademark professional Ballycastle Bats (Ginny's favorite Quidditch team) Chaser socks just anywhere—you had to know someone on the team. Not that Harry did, but one of Tonks' housemates from her Hogwarts years was a Beater for the Bats; he'd heard her discussing it with Ginny the previous summer. And there was no doubt that this would lead to questions about why Harry wanted to go through all that trouble just to get Ginny a special birthday present At that thought Harry's stomach gave an unpleasant lurch and, at the same time, filled with rather fluttery butterflies. However, he suddenly realized that Ron must have been halfway down the stairs already, so he put it aside to agonize over later. When they reached the common room, Hermione looked at them—or, more specifically, she looked at Ron—expectantly. They exchanged a look; a look that he had seem them exchange many times, and Harry had finally deduced that it was their way of communicating without words. He didn't mind so much, except when he knew they were talking about him. With a cheeky grin, Hermione led the way to the portrait hole, and their conversation fell back to N.E.W.T.s—but Harry's mind began to wander. He couldn't wait to see Ginny's face when she opened her present. She was going to love her socks, he just knew it. They were so perfectly Ginny. He imagined the way her eyes would light up, her lips would part in surprise, slightly open. Merlin, he wanted to kiss her so— "Ouf!" "Watch out, Harry," said Hermione, giving him an odd look. "Er, right," said Harry, rubbing his forehead. "Where did that wall come from?" "That wall's been here since first year," answered Ron. "It's been here a lot longer than that, Ron! In Hogwarts, a History—" "Hermione, we really don't need to know the entire history behind that stupid wall!" But he said it in a friendly teasing manner, and Harry focused his gaze in front of him, both to avoid seeing the gag-worth looks his two best friends were giving each other, and to keep from hitting another wall. He'd have to try not to think about Ginny too much while walking down the halls. He didn't want to be covered in bumps and bruises. He'd have to give up thinking about her in Potions, too, Harry resolved, regretfully, as he sat down at a desk in the back row. He'd had enough points taken from Gryffindor already this term. And enough detentions. And he definitely did not want a detention tomorrow night. *** Before Harry realized it, the cake, which Dobby had snuck up from the kitchens, had all been eaten, and every present—every present except for his, that is—had been opened by Ginny. She was sitting in a seat by the fire, and all her friends had gathered around. Harry's gift was in her lap, and he watched with bated breath as she picked it up and said "Oh, this one's from Harry! I wonder what it could be." He felt a wave of apprehension wash over him as she began to tear at the wrapping. He needn't have worried. The moment she saw the socks, Ginny emitted a high pitch squeal. "Oh, Harry! They are so fabulous! Thank you so much! But how on earth did you ever—" Happiness filled Harry, so much so that he wondered why he wasn't floating away. He opened his mouth, ready to tell Ginny that she was of course, welcome, and about how he had managed to acquire such a hard to obtain item, when particularly obnoxious second year exclaimed loudly from across the room, "The Bats? Why on earth would you care about such a crummy Quidditch team?" By the time their heated debate died down, Ginny was surrounded by friends who wanted to wish her a happy birthday one last time before turning in for the night. Harry waited through most of them, feeling increasingly pathetic, as his present lay on the chair beside Ginny, seemingly forgotten. Dejected, he turned to go up to his dormitory, and was almost across the common room when he heard Ginny call out his name. Behind her he saw the last of her girlfriends disappear up the stairs, giggling. "Harry," she said, as she ran up to him, putting her arms around him and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. Stunned, Harry stared at her, feeling his face turn pink. "Thank you so much for the socks. They're perfect!" "You don't have to…" Harry stuttered. "I mean, it's okay if you don't like them—" "Are you mad? I absolutely love them! It's the best present I've ever had!" Ginny exclaimed. Then she looked slightly taken aback, as if her outburst had surprised her as much as it had him. "Er," she said, after a moment. "But how on earth did you get them?" "Oh! Well, I wrote to Tonks; I remembered her telling you how one of her friends was a Beater and—" "You remembered?" Ginny asked, clearly surprised. "Of course I remembered!" answered Harry. I remember everything about you. They were silent for a moment, then Harry heard his voice saying, "There's…er…something I wanted to tell you." There is? "What's that?" "Well, it's just that… the thing is… hm. Well, I, that is to say, I, er, hm. Well, of course…" Ginny brow's furrowed as she looked at him intently, as if he were speaking a foreign language and she were trying to decipher what he was saying. Harry could have kicked himself. He hadn't meant to bring this up—and now he was going to ruin her birthday! But there was nothing to be done for it now; Ginny was always able to tell if he was lying. "I fancy you," he blurted out, staring hard at a place on the wall just above her left shoulder. Silence. For what seemed like years, Harry started at the spot on the wall, each second passing agonizingly slowly as he felt his heartbeat throbbing through his entire body. Finally, he chanced a glance at Ginny. She was staring at him, and every feature of her face indicated surprise. Apologize, said a voice in his head, but Harry couldn't speak. He couldn't even move for a moment; but when he could, he made to leave, as quickly as possible. Ginny's arm reached out to stop him. "Harry," she said, looking at him in wonder. "Harry?" Then a smile flickered across her face, and Harry's world changed. He stepped forward until he was standing in front of her. She looked up at him expectantly, then dropped her gaze to his lips. Amazingly, Harry found that he wasn't nervous as he lowered his mouth to hers. Ginny's eyelids fluttered shut, and he let his do the same. He brushed his lips over hers, then again, and again. It was bliss. Even though it hadn't been a desperate kiss, Harry found he was a bit breathless when it was over. He also found he had his voice back. "So, er… would you like to go to Hogsmeade with me next time there's a trip?" "Yes," answered Ginny, still looking at him in a way that made him happier than he had been in a long time. Seeing no reason not to, he pressed his lips against hers again. "Happy birthday, Ginny," he said, and before he turned to go up the stairs, she gave him a dazzling smile that weakened his knees. Fortunately, he only tripped three times before landing on the safety of his bed. This series is now finished.Thanks must go to every one who has reviewed; I couldn't possibly name them all, but please know that each review is v much appreciated and brightened my day! Of course, the two guest authors, Smith (wherever you are!) and Pooca contributed enormously. Pooca has been invaluable as moral support throughout most of the writing of these stories, and Faelaern is quickly making up for his relatively late entrance. Where would I be without Aibhinn? The stories would certainly be illegible for grammar errors. Last but not least, I must thank the goddess herself, JKR, for creating the two most beautifully destined to snog one another characters that I have ever had the good literary fortune to stumble across. Thanks again to Faelaern and Pooca for the emergency IM conferences and to Itunes for coming up with a title after four people couldn't manage to do so in half an hour.
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