Disclaimer: I own nothing, JKR owns everything (Harry Potter related, that is)

“Hermione,” Ginny whined, sticking out her bottom lip. Hermione continued reading, her eyes swiftly scanning the page. Ginny sighed. She looked around the room she shared with Hermione. It was annoyingly comforting, her stupid Quidditch posters, and her old ratty bed. She decorated her room like this when she was ten and it was mocking her now.

You’re sixteen years old and sitting at home on a Friday night, it called out to her. It was the summer before her sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She stared back at Hermione. This could be Hermione’s last chance to have fun before she had to go back to school. How could she pass that up? She would be starting her seventh year at Hogwarts come September. Ginny actually wasn’t sure if Hermione would be going back at all. She had a feeling Hermione, Ron and Harry�”her unbelievably gorgeous, sweet and noble ex-boyfriend�”would be traveling this year doing something to help defeat Lord Voldemort. That didn’t make much sense on Hermione’s part; you’d think she’d want to have fun before hunting a dark wizard.

“Hermione, please can we do something fun?” Ginny asked sitting down beside her.

“Like what?” inquired Hermione, still reading.

“Like getting out of this bloody house! I’ve been cooped up here all summer,” Ginny cried, forcing her eyes to grow bigger. She blinked a couple of times, making them gloss over with tears. Ginny had been the master of fake crying ever since she realized it could get her what she wanted. It might’ve sounded like manipulating, but she only used her powers for good. Hermione looked up reluctantly.

“Put those puppy dog eyes away,” Hermione said a smile playing on her lips.

“Hmph!” Ginny crossed her arms over her chest.

“You know,” Hermione started, “it wouldn’t be safe anyway. What with Death Eaters running around! Your mum would never go for it!”

“If I could convince her it’s safe then you’d go?”

“Sure,” Hermione said rolling her eyes at thought of Ginny asking her mother to go out partying while a wizard’s war is going on. She went back to her book, as Ginny jumped off the bed, and bounded towards the door.

Once she was out of the room, she pranced up a couple of flights of stairs before politely knocking on the door in front of her.

“Come in!” Ron called. Ginny took a deep breath and stepped inside.

She smiled, taking in the sight in front of her. Ron lay sprawled across his bed, staring up at the ceiling. Harry sat on the floor with his arms around his knees. Next to him laid his Hogwarts letter, unopened. He gazed up at her. Feeling a blush creep onto her cheeks she smiled and turned around to shut the door. Then she walked across the room to sit cross-legged on Harry’s bed.

“Can we help you?” Ron asked, turning towards her.

“Hopefully, you can!” Ginny exclaimed, scooting to the head of the bed so she could lean against the wall.

“You got to give us more than that, Gin,” said Ron.

“I told you my name’s Ginny, not some alcoholic Muggle drink!”

Ron rolled his eyes. Harry turned towards her, leaning on his hands, and knitted his eyebrows, puzzled. Merlin, he’s cute when he’s confused, Ginny thought tearing her eyes away from him.

“So, I’ve been thinking, we should go out tonight! Have some fun, you know, we are teenagers,” she said now looking back at Ron.

“All right, but what do you need help with?” he asked, sitting up.

“Convincing Mum,” Ginny stated plainly.

“We probably shouldn’t go. It’s not safe out there,” Harry said. Ginny turned towards him, focusing all her energy in not getting lost in his emerald green eyes.

“You sound like Hermione,” Ginny said with a tinge of disappointment. She looked down at her shoes.

“Maybe if we go to Muggle London…” Harry trailed off. Ginny smiled looking back at him.

“That’s a great idea! You-Know-Who wouldn’t look for wizards there!” Ginny hopped off the bed and ran to the door.

“Wait, Ginny, what are we doing tonight?” Ron asked twisting around to face her. Ginny creased her brow in thought. Where could they go in Muggle London that their Mum wouldn’t mind, but would be fun? Or…

“Well we could go to a club, but use a cover up story with Mum. Like we could say we’re going to…Oh I have no idea where Muggles go! Harry?”

“What?” he asked, confused. Ginny rolled her eyes, trying not to think about how helplessly cute he looked when he had no idea what she was talking about. But then, he looked cute all the time.

“You do realize you thought you were a Muggle for eleven years,” she explained, feigning exasperation.

“You’re right, it’s just I tend to repress memories that have to do with the Dursleys. But,” Harry added seeing Ginny’s face fall, “maybe Hermione and I can think of something that’ll work. Just for the record, I don’t think we should lie to your mum.”

“Well it’s a good thing you don’t have to sell her the story. And to clear your conscience, you’re seventeen; you should be doing stuff like this. You can’t be heroic all the time!” she called, walking out the door.

Ginny ran down a couple flights of stairs, and into her room. She yanked Hermione by the arm, and pulled her upstairs, ignoring her friend’s yells to let go. Ginny opened the door to the boy’s room and yanked Hermione in behind her before shutting the door.

“Go,” Ginny practically threw Hermione on the floor next to Harry, “ahead!” Hermione made a soft “Oomph” as she hit the floor, followed by a death glare at Ginny. “Sorry,” Ginny said just realizing she flung her best friend on a hard wooden floor. Hermione rubbed her hip gingerly.

“You all right?” Ron asked swiftly moving towards Hermione, squatting down beside her. Ginny and Harry both rolled there eyes at each other.

“I would be if someone could tell me why Ginny’s acting completely mental!” she said watching Ginny bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

“I’m just excited! I haven’t been out in like,” Ginny bit her lip and looked upward as she counted in her head, “two years!” Hermione rolled her eyes.

“What a shame, poor Ginny!” Hermione said sardonically. Ginny figured her unusually sarcastic tone was because her hip was still sore, and Ginny did pull her out of her bed while she was reading (which is not a smart thing to do when it comes to Hermione).

“Look,” Ginny started moving to sit on her knees in front of Hermione, “I didn’t mean for it to come out so…shallow. I just want to have fun…well, not that I’m not having fun,” she added quickly. Ginny took a deep breath. Everyone was staring at her. Hermione was biting her lip probably wondering where Ginny was going with her little speech. Ron moved from squatting into a more comfortable position leaning on his hands, with his eyebrows pointing down a little. Harry was watching carefully, but it looked like he was fighting a smile because the corners of his lips kept twitching. “I really want to do something wild. Look at us! All we do is fight the Dark Arts, which isn’t bad, and it is fun, but we never go out and party all night long.”

“Wild? You want to something wild during a war?” Hermione asked. Ginny was all prepared to fight back but Harry cut in.

“It’ll be safe, and we could use a little relaxing time,” Harry pointed out calmly. Hermione’s eyes narrowed slightly.

“And how will it be safe?” Hermione asked astonished that Ginny got Harry to go along with this. Ron sighed.

“Why do you think Ginny dragged you in for? Hermione, the Queen of Worrying, can always make a plan safe,” Ron said. Hermione slowly turned her death glare over to Ron. It softened a little and turned into a look of deep thought.

“So, what’s the plan?” she asked switching her narrowed eyes back to Ginny. Ginny smiled.

“Hermione, you’re the best!” she exclaimed.

“”””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

“Just let me do the explaining, alright? And remember to stick to the script,” Ginny warned under her breath as they descended the steps into the kitchen. “Mum?”

Mrs. Weasley turned towards them, levitating a cutting board, carrots and celery onto the table. Mr. Weasley peeked up from behind the Daily Prophet curiously.

“Yes, dear?” Mrs. Weasley asked while jabbing her wand in the air causing a knife to neatly chop the carrots.

“Hermione got a letter from her mum and dad this mourning,” Ginny explained carefully.

“Oh, no! Is everyone all right?” she asked looking up from her chopping straight to Hermione.

“No, no, everyone’s…fine,” Hermione squeaked nervously. Ginny spun around and gave her a “stop being so guilty” look, then turned to face her mother.

“So, Hermione’s dad told her about this…um…” Ginny said acting clueless.

“Amusement park,” Harry finished. “It’s this Muggle place, where you go on rides.”

“Rides?” Mr. Weasley asked excitedly, putting down the paper.

“Yeah, they’re these carts that pull you really fast on a track, and Hermione said there’s this big wheel where you sit down on a little seat, and it pulls you around in a circle,” answered Ron, moving his finger in a circular motion while nodding excitedly. Ginny was surprised at what a good actor her brother was.

“Really? Now how can�”?” Mr. Weasley started.

“Don’t tell me you want to go to this Muggle death trap?” Mrs. Weasley asked, now poking the air furiously with her wand so the cutting board had cracks from the fiercely slicing knife.

“Oh, no! It’s really safe! I’ve been there loads of times!” Hermione swallowed hard. Ginny knew Hermione hated lying, but she wasn’t half bad at it.

“And we were thinking,” Ginny paused. Mum was freaking out already and this wasn’t the worst of it, “we could stay in Diagon Alley with Fred and George for tonight. I can’t Apparate, so we have to walk, and it’s much closer.”

“So you lot want to stay at the joke shop over night then go to Muggle London for some completely lethal ride?” asked Mrs. Weasley. “I will not�””

“Now Molly, I think this is a rather…good idea,” Mr. Weasley cut in. “It will be very educational for them, and I would love some pictures!”

Mrs. Weasley gave threw stern look towards her husband.

“It won’t be safe!” she exclaimed. Ginny felt Hermione squirm behind her.

“Mum, it will! It’s Muggle London!” Ginny yowled.

“I don’t care if it’s Flobberworm London, you’re not leaving this house!” Mrs. Weasley yelled.

“Molly�”” Mr. Weasley started.

“No Arthur! They are not going out!” she shrieked, jabbing her wand rather violently at the celery.

“There would be three wizards of age to protect Ginny if something happened,” Mr. Weasley reasoned.

“First of all, nothing is going to happen! And second, I can take care of myself!” Ginny shouted.

“But Gin, you’re not of age. We’ll take care of you,” Harry whispered leaning in towards her.

“Don’t worry Hair! I’ll be fine,” she spat furiously.

“Sorry, I meant Ginny,” he added before backing away from her. Ginny exhaled, trying to get rid of some of her anger. Yelling at her mum would not help.

“Mum, please?” she asked softly, releasing the power of her puppy dog eyes.

“No! Absolutely not!”

“Why don’t you lot wait upstairs,” Mr. Weasley muttered getting up from his chair and walking towards them. He herded them out of the kitchen. “I’ll try and convince her,” he added in an undertone closing the door.

“Oh, I feel horrid!” Hermione said as they climbed the stairs.

“Don’t worry that’s just guilt, it’ll pass,” said Ron jokingly.

“Well,” Harry started, “what now?”

“We wait,” Ginny stated simply.

“”””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

After much yelling from downstairs, Mr. Weasley called them down. Nervously, with Ginny in the lead, they walked into the kitchen.

“All right, we have came up with a compromise,” Mr. Weasley said. A compromise couldn’t be bad, Ginny thought optimistically.

“So, what is it?” she asked carefully.

“You can go to this…Amuse Mint Park, but one of you three,” Mrs. Weasley said pointing to Harry, Ron and Hermione, “must Apparate every hour to the Burrow, so we know you’re okay. And if you miss even one “visit” then we’re coming to take you home. Don’t worry we will find you!” Ginny tried listening with an open mind. I suppose it could be worse.

“All right, I guess that sounds fair,” Ginny said. “So can we go send an owl to Fred and George? And then we’ll get ready?”

Mrs. Weasley looked irate. She apparently thought once they heard the condition they’d back out.

“That sounds great!” piped Mr. Weasley when Mrs. Weasley just stood there scowling. Before her Mum could change her mind, Ginny practically pushed the others out the door and ran upstairs into the boy’s room.

“I can’t believe we just got away with that,” Ron whispered. They just stood there letting their amazingly good luck sink in.

“We should write to Fred and George,” Harry said, finding parchment and a quill.

“What are we going to say to them? That we’re lying to their Mum, and we expect them to cover for us?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah,” Ginny answered like it was obvious. “The twins are always saying that you should lighten up a bit, and well, this’ll make you like a feather.”

“They think I need to lighten up? Well they could use some rocks!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Will you two stop with the metaphors?” Ron said annoyed. “Now let’s finish this letter so we can get out of here!”

“No problem, it’s already done,” said Harry, blowing on the paper. Ginny noticed how carefully he blew, and how his mouth rounded into an “o” shape, which made his eyebrows rise. She shook her head quickly getting rid of those thoughts.

“Let me see.” Ginny took the parchment, making sure not to smudge the ink. She read out loud:

Dear Fred and George,

P.S. We might pay a visit to go over the details later; I hope it’s all right.

“Sounds good!” Ron said, looking over at Harry.

“Thanks, mate.” He took the letter from Ginny, being careful not to touch her hand �”Ginny noticed�”and gave it to Hedwig to send.

“So, I guess we should get ready,” Hermione said weakly.

Disclaimer: Not mine, even though I wish it was...

Meet Hermione, the Jealous Guy’s Fiancé

Ginny watched Hermione pace by a tree near the house. She could almost hear her mumbling to herself. But Hermione couldn’t back out now! They were just about to leave, and Ginny was so excited. Harry and Ron were pretty thrilled to get out of the house, too. Only Hermione could dwell on the bad in their adventure. She just needed to let loose. In the long run Hermione would be thankful when Ginny dragged her along, probably. Maybe Hermione needed to be pushed a little more, since her guilt and doubts were gnawing at her.

“What is she doing?” An all-too-familiar voice interrupted Ginny’s thoughts. She turned to look behind her. Harry walked towards Ginny, and gracefully perched himself on a rock next to where Ginny was sitting on a tree stump. Harry’s elbows were propped up against his knee. She could feel the heat radiating off of him. Ginny wanted to just reach over and grab his hand. Her fingers starting twitching so she crossed her arms preventing any other non-voluntary movement towards Harry. He was looking expectantly at Ginny, who stared back confused. What was he waiting for? She cocked her head to the side quizzically. Slowly a grin spread across his face. Oh, yeah…he asked a question. He’s just waiting for an answer.

“I guess she’s thinking,” Ginny finally answered, turning away from Harry chuckling at her sudden memory loss. She tried to hide her reddening face by letting her hair fall past her shoulder and cover her like a sheet. “If you two haven’t taken so long to get ready, then we could have left and she wouldn’t be worrying.”

“Oh, don’t you go blaming me! You know she would have been bothered by this no matter what,” he retorted, grinning.

“Where’s Ron?” Ginny asked, ignoring Harry as she tucked her blanket of hair behind her ear since a cool breeze had wiped the remains of her blush from her cheeks.

“I’m right here,” Ron said, walking towards them from the door of the Burrow. “Mum was giving me more warnings.” He sighed, stopped where Harry and Ginny were sitting, and then looked around. His eyes stopped when he saw Hermione walking back and forth.

“She’s nervous,” Ginny said, answering his unspoken question. Ron shook his head while rolling his eyes.

“Oi! Hermione, come on!” he yelled. She looked up, and hastily walked over towards Harry, Ginny and Ron. She absentmindedly moved her wand from one hand to the other, staring at the grassy ground.

“I don’t think I can do this!” she squeaked, coming to stand in front of them. “I’m sorry!”

“Hermione,” Harry started, but Ginny held up her hand stopping him.

“Why?” she asked quietly, trying to read her friend’s face.

“I…I don’t like this! I don’t like going against the rules, especially when these rules were made for a reason. There’s a war going on!” Hermione explained looking up to face them.

“We went through this already. We�”are�”safe! You’re just scared to have fun,” Ginny accused. Hermione’s eyes quickly found Ginny’s. Even though Ginny wasn’t adept at reading eyes, she could see confusion in Hermione’s. Behind the brown Ginny could see that Hermione, for once in her life, didn’t know the answer.

“That’s not true!”

“‘Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be?’” Ginny quoted while boring her eyes into Hermione’s. They were all staring at her, surprised that she was quoting poetry�”out of Hermione’s book no less. Hermione’s mouth was slightly agape in surprise. She closed it, cocked her head and her brown eyebrows pointed down in perplexity.

“You�”you read the anthology on my night stand?” she asked quietly. Ron and Harry looked thoroughly confused.

“No, not really. Just a couple of poems, and I happened to cross that one. But it does apply, you know. You should let yourself be wild, gorgeous, crazy and fabulous once and awhile. Not just brilliant and talented,” Ginny said watching Hermione’s face twist in thought. Ginny smiled, satisfied.

“I guess we should get going then,” Hermione said while composing her face and picking up the duffle bag by her feet.

“I don’t know what you did, but it was bloody brilliant!” Ron whispered in Ginny’s ear. Ginny pulled away from his sticky, wet breath. It was totally different when Harry whispered in her ear. His breath was warm and tickled her ear. No, stop it! You can’t think about him like that anymore, Ginny scolded herself.

“So remember,” Hermione started while the others gathered their bags from the ground and Ginny pushed her internal battle aside, “we’re Apparating to the Amphibole Woods next to Hotel Amphibole on 1012 Walnut Road, all right?” Harry and Ron nodded.

“Are you ready?” Harry asked Ginny, stepping out in front of her and holding out his arm. Ginny took a deep calming breath and grabbed the offered arm obediently.

“I suppose it can’t be that bad,” she said to distract herself from the tingling sensation that was crawling up her arm from holding Harry’s wrist. I’ve held his hand before; it shouldn’t be weird, Ginny thought, trying to stop the swooping feeling that worked its way into her stomach.

“The first is the worst, but it gets better,” Ron said trying to sooth Ginny.

“Well seeing as this is my first time, that doesn’t help at all,” she mumbled, her voice getting higher in anxiety. Ginny had never Apparated before. Some people said it felt like you couldn’t breathe, or it squished your lungs together. Both of which never made Ginny think Apparating could be all that pleasant. Her nails dug into Harry’s forearm. They all agreed Harry would do Side-Along Apparation with Ginny, since neither Hermione nor Ron ever tried it.

“Could’ya lighten up a bit?” Harry asked, looking down at Ginny. Her stomach did a back flip and she loosened her grip.

“Well, here we go,” Hermione said, and with a loud pop she vanished. Ginny squeezed onto Harry tighter, ignoring his request, because according to plan they were next. She took a deep breath, but before she knew it, it was gone. All around her was bone-crushing blackness. It was like tight metal chains were weaving their way around her body, and knocking the breath out of her. Then the blackness vanished, and cool air filled Ginny’s empty lungs. With another noisy pop Ron appeared beside them.

“So, how’d you like it?” Harry asked while they followed Hermione on a path through the thickly grown trees.

“It was…an experience,” she answered thinking of the uncomfortable choking feeling. Harry chuckled.

“Hermione,” Ron started as he sped up to walk next to her, “will there be food there?”

Hermione laughed, though Ginny couldn’t see her face because she and Harry were lagging behind. Ginny heard the beginning of Hermione’s lecture to Ron about how everything is not about food, but the wind soon silenced their voices.

Harry’s hand swiftly brushed against Ginny’s. She felt her heart race at this simple contact, as her head swam with images of her grabbing Harry’s hand, and him not caring. But she didn’t. Ginny pushed the fantasies aside and breathed in and out slowly. Ginny noticed how that Harry seemed to be unaffected with their brief contingence. She bit down on her lip hard trying not to overanalyze this. Just because he didn’t show he felt anything doesn’t mean he didn’t feel anything, she told herself. But I shouldn’t care if he still has feelings about me. I mean we’re over. Broken up. Done.

“Ginny?” Harry asked taking his eyes from the dirt path and moving them to her face.

“Hmmm?” she wondered meeting his eyes.

“Your lip’s bleeding,” he said, pulling a napkin from his pocket and handing it to her. Her face steadily reddened as Ginny carefully took the cloth, avoiding his hands.

A few minutes later Harry and Ginny reached the end of the forest to find Ron and Hermione laughing hysterically. Since neither Harry nor Ginny caught their joke, they began brushing leaves and twigs off their clothes. After the strange laughter subsided, Hermione led them inside the hotel.

“What were you two laughing about back there?” Ginny asked as she caught up with Hermione. She started giggling again but sternly pressed her lips together in an attempt to stop.

“Nothing,” Hermione managed to choke out before she strode up to the hotel’s front desk. Ginny raised an eyebrow as she followed, looking around eagerly.

Hotel Amphibole had beautifully polished cream-colored floors. There were flights of stairs, with brass handle rails. Potted plants stood against the walls. Behind them was a small counter with coffee and tea neatly placed on top. Behind that was a spacey room dotted with armchairs, couches, and coffee tables. On the wall opposite the largest couch was a big-screened square mirror with flashing pictures on it. Probably some Muggle contraption, Ginny thought.

“Hello Miss, welcome to the Hotel Amphibole,” the clerk said smilingly at Hermione. He wore a green vest, and button up shirt. The clerk was very tan with a brilliantly white toothy smile. He would have been handsome but he had a rather large nose for the size of his face. “How may I help you?” he asked Hermione with a wink. She dimly blushed.

“My fiancé and I would like two rooms for tonight,” Ron ordered, sliding around Ginny to place an arm around Hermione, who was looking at Ron incredulously. The clerk looked over at Ron menacingly.

“Two rooms?” he asked, smirking.

“Yes one for me and my bride-to-be and one for these two,” Ron said motioning to Harry and Ginny now behind them, but still staring down the hotel worker. Ron is so possessive, Ginny thought, And a little crazy. Their plan was for Ginny and Hermione to share one room, and Ron and Harry a different one. Hermione actually wanted them to be on separate floors. The clerk nodded solemnly, and stared down at a mini-Muggle contraption like the one Ginny saw in the lobby. It started making weird clicking and beeping noises.

“That will be two hundred and sixty three pounds,” the clerk said, glaring daggers at Ron. Hermione rolled her eyes, as Ron’s grip tightened. But, Ginny noticed, the corners of her lips were twitching trying to control her smile. She detached herself from Ron, reaching into her pants pocket to get her wallet.

Hermione pulled out thin, square papers. Counting them between her fingers, she froze when she finished. Forcing herself to grin politely at the clerk, she turned to face Harry.

“Do you have Mug- I mean…more money?” she asked still grinning a little madly.

“I only have the…uh…other…er,” Harry stuttered, “No, sorry.” Hermione sighed, turning back to the clerk.

“I guess we’ll just have one room then,” Hermione said blushing slightly as Ron’s arm dropped.

“One room?” Ron asked turning towards Harry and Ginny fuming. Ginny rolled her eyes knowing where this conversation was going.

“Oh please, Ron! Like anything is going to happen with you and Hermione there! Well, not like it would if you weren’t there because we’re…um…yeah,” Ginny said lamely, her face on fire. She could feel Harry fidgeting next to her.

“Four keys, please!” Hermione said, quickly breaking the awkward silence. The clerk handed her four small laminated cards. She picked them up, and handed them out.

“You’re in room four hundred and thirty six. Have a good night,” the clerk called after them scathingly. The blush still hadn’t left Ginny’s face, so she looked down at the floor as they made their way towards a golden door.

“Shouldn’t we go up the stairs?” Ron asked.

“No, we’re using the elevator,” Hermione answered, “please play along.” She looked a little worried, probably because playing Muggle is hard thing for the Weasleys. The golden metal door parted down the middle. Ginny gasped and Ron cocked his head to the side. “You have to walk inside of it,” Hermione whispered nudging, Ginny in the back.

“I’m not going in that thing!” Ron whispered fiercely.

“Go!” Hermione demanded, still whispering. Ginny cautiously entered. “Don’t worry. They’re like the lifts at the Ministry, I promise.” As Ginny entered, she was surprised that Muggles used the same thing wizards did for moving floor to floor. The doors shut, and Harry pressed a few buttons on the wall. The lift began to move.

“Ron, what the hell was that about?” Hermione asked furiously now that they were confined in the elevator.

“What?”

“I’m your fiancé?” she shrieked

“That bloke was looking at you funny!”

“So saying that we’re getting married helped that because?”

The elevator doors opened and Harry and Ginny shot out, while Ron and Hermione bickered behind them. With Harry in the lead they found the hotel room. He took the plastic card and pushed it in a slot. There was a low beep, and Harry held open the door. Ginny smiled appreciatively at Harry. She stood grinning like crazy, and then remembered he was holding the door open for her and she stepped inside, feeling her face heat up.

She walked across the room and sat on the king sized bed. Ginny pulled off her shoes and carelessly threw them to the side. Leaning back on the soft pillows, she examined the room. The big bed she was now resting on had golden covers with patterns in red. Very Gryffindor, Ginny thought. The squishy carpet was maroon, and the walls and ceilings were painted creamy beige with flowery print on the borders. Across from the bed sat a large wooden dresser. The cabinet drawers were partly opened and Ginny could see another one of those picture flashing Muggle machines. Next to the dresser was a dark mahogany desk with notepads, pencils and a chair. There was also an awfully uncomfortable looking red armchair with a matching footstool. Ginny looked to her left and noticed a closet and a bathroom. Overall the room was quite small, and would make it very hard for four teenagers to sleep contentedly.

“I doubt it, Ron,” Hermione said, walking through the door that Harry was still holding open.

“That’s because you fancy him!” Ron called, storming into the room. Hermione rolled her eyes and sat on the bed next to Ginny.

“Well this will be interesting,” said Hermione, ignoring Ron completely.

“You reckon?” Harry asked, walking around the room to sit on Ginny’s right. Ginny squirmed around trying to find a comfortable position where her and Harry’s arms weren’t touching so she could focus. But no such luck happened, and Ginny was forced to enjoy the tingling feeling running up and down her right arm.

“Look at this room! How are we going to fit?” Hermione looked at Ginny questioningly then jumped off the bed and walked over towards the desk.

“Ron can sleep on the floor,” Ginny offered sweetly. Ron turned towards Ginny with narrowed eyes.

“We can talk sleeping arrangements later!” he snapped. “How long has it been since we left?”

“Only thirty minutes,” Harry answered, checking his watch, which caused more unwanted but still pleasurable contact with Ginny. Goosebumps formed on her arm, as Ginny tried to concentrate on not concentrating on Harry’s elbow near hers.

“Then I should probably get going,” Hermione said, fishing around in her pocket for her wand.

“Why so early?” Ginny asked.

“First I’m going to Fred and George’s to make sure they’re going along with this mess, and then I have to visit your mum. Remember every hour one of us has to go to the Burrow!” Hermione said turning to Ron and Harry. “That means NO drinking! Mrs. Weasley would go crazy if we showed up drunk!”

“We can’t get sloshed?” Ron asked disappointed. He trudged over to the armchair and flopped down.

“No!” Hermione snapped, shoving her bag over her shoulder.

“Actually, you three can’t get sloshed, but since I can’t pop over to mum and dad’s, I’m perfectly free to�”” Ginny began, but was quickly cut off by yells of protest.

“Ginny, you’re not drinking anything except pumpkin juice tonight!” Ron shouted.

“You’re not even of age, it’s illegal!” Hermione shrieked.

“We’ll have fun without getting sloshed, I promise,” Harry whispered, placing a piece of her flaming red hair behind her ear, while the other two continued shouting at Ginny. At Harry’s touch chills climbed up her back but he pulled away quickly, leaving Ginny shaking her head to rid of the fantasies creeping up on her again.

“Fine,” Ginny said rolling her eyes.

“All right, now you three get ready and I’ll be back in a bit,” Hermione said, finally finding her wand. “Be good!” With that, she turned on the spot only to leave behind a loud crack.

“So, I’m taking a nap. Now you two, be good!” Ron said, mocking Hermione. He cracked a smile at his impression skills and flopped across the bed, knocking Harry and Ginny off.

“That’s sweet of you Ron,” Ginny grumped turning away from her brother and towards Harry. “I’m going to take a quick shower. And you should get ready, or else Hermione will have a meltdown when she comes back.” She walked across the room taking in a deep breath of Harry’s husky scent, and grabbed some clothes and toiletries. Ginny felt an emerald green gaze following her as she moved about the room.

“What?” she asked, finally looking up at Harry. His eyes swallowed her whole as she stared back into them. They stood in silence. Not an awkward silence or a comforting one, just a waiting, patient silence. Ginny thought her knees would give out soon. Harry’s eyes were mesmerizing, and breathtaking, well actually knee-taking. Thoughts of collapsing were pushed to the side as Harry walked towards her.

He walked closer and closer, passing the line of a friendly distance, then passing the line of the personal bubble. But Ginny didn’t care, she just watched slightly confused, and very excited. She had to remind herself to that he wasn’t her boyfriend and she couldn’t just jump into his arms. So she focused on breathing steadily. Harry picked up a piece of her hair gingerly. Ginny almost wanted to warn him her hair was a mess. It was full of knots and frizzed out, thus the shower. But it didn’t seem to matter to him. Ginny’s chest pounded with longing for what she knew she couldn’t have.

He carefully picked something out of her hair, but all Ginny saw was his green eyes.

“Sorry,” he breathed, and handed her the paper that was dislodged from her hair. His warm breath hit her face, and she closed her eyes. Ginny reached up and took the crumpled paper. Her heart was aching, as she placed her hand by her side. She bit her lip hard, fighting the tears springing up in her eyes.

“You can’t do this anymore, it’s not fair,” Ginny whispered, before turning away and walking into the bathroom. She closed the door softly and lent back against the white wood. Her knees finally gave out and she slid down the door landing with a thud on the tile. Clutching her stomach, Ginny gasped for breath. Her body felt hollowed out, since Ginny’s heart was on the other side of the door, it’s owner calling her name.

Disclaimer: It's JKR's world, I'm just writing in it.

How Not To Flirt

Ginny wrapped her freshly scorched body in a terrycloth bathrobe. The shower had revived her, allowing her to let a few tears escape without leaving her eyes puffy and swollen. Letting the singeing hot water burn her skin also allowed her mind to think freely. Her raw, red flesh required more attention than the problem lying ahead.

After her enlightening shower, Ginny came to a conclusion. She overreacted, big time. But it wasn’t her fault.These days she was always so close to tears, probably because of the war, and it was hard to keep her emotions in check. Ginny decided she would apologize to Harry and enforce the “we’re just friends” rules with him, even though it pained her to do so. This included no more light-hearted flirting; touching in any way; and never, ever, look each other in the eye. Well, at least those were Ginny’s rules. The latter was especially important because once she looked into his emerald eyes she could never go back. So that was that.

Ginny pulled out her brush and started combing her unruly knot of hair. Stupid hotel conditioners, she thought bitterly as she heard at the thump of a door . Yanking the brush out of her hair, she whirled it in front of her, momentarily forgetting that the brush was not her wand. Quietly opening the bathroom door, Ginny peered around the hotel room. She expected to see an intruder but nothing was out of the ordinary. Ron was sound asleep, spread-eagled across the bed, and Harry was…wait…Harry’s not here, she thought. But where did he go? Ginny carefully opened the hotel door to begin her search, but she saw the one she was searching for leaning nonchalantly against the wall. And there was a skimpy clothed girl standing next to him.

“Ginny!” Harry said, “Christa was telling me about this club.”

“Who’s Christa?” Ginny asked, even though the answer was obviously right in front of her.

“I am! It’s…um…nice to meet you!” Christa smiled, looking Ginny up and down.

“Same here,” Ginny replied, coolly moving her narrowed eyes to Harry. He was acting like nothing happened. “How do you two know each other?”

“Christa was looking for her friend and knocked on the wrong door. When I answered she told me about some club she was going to. I thought we might want to come,” Harry said like that justified his speaking to the bimbo.

“So you guys should totally come!” Christa said, facing Harry. Ginny simply stared openly at the blue-eyed girl in front of her.

“Well that sounds great,” Ginny said, venom dripping into the sarcasm that went unnoticed by both Harry and Christa.

“We’ll meet you in the lobby, around nine?” Harry asked, sneaking glances at Ginny to see if this is really what she wanted.

“Perfect,” Christa said, looking at Harry. She sent a smile at him and walked away. Harry turned to face Ginny, unsure of what to say next.

“Are you okay?” he asked, softly.

“Yeah,” Ginny said a little coldly. She then realized he was probably talking about her minor breakdown, and added, “I just went a little overboard. Sorry.”

“Look I should be apologizing, I didn’t even realize…”

“S’okay, just forget it,” she said stiffly, turning to go.

“No, it’s not. I promised your brother I wouldn’t drag you along, and I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I thought you would know by now not to listen to my brother,” Ginny said smiling, but Harry looked at her worriedly, “It’s fine.”

“You sure?” Harry crouched down so his eyes were level with Ginny’s. She turned her head away, determined to stay away from the hypnotizing emeralds, and focused on a dirt spot on the wall.

“Yeah, because friends forgive and forget.”

“And we’re friends,” Harry said. Ginny saw right through the forced smile. It actually made her feel better that this was hard for him too.

“Yep,” Ginny said firmly.

“Then we better get back inside, buddy,” Harry added, giving her a playful punch on the arm. Ginny cracked a real smile, trying not to notice the brief moment of forbidden contact, and opened the door.

“Get up!” They heard Hermione yell, tugging on Ron’s foot.

“Hermione!” Ginny shrieked, running into the room. “You look hot!” Ginny walked around Hermione, taking in the outfit. She was wearing black leggings, a black vest over a pale green tank top and strapped sandals. Her hair was less puffy than usual, falling in brown ringlets that framed her face.

“You three could not be any further from ready,” Hermione said, raising an eyebrow but still keeping a friendly smile on her face. Ginny looked down. She was still wearing the hotel’s bathrobe, and her hairbrush was hanging limply in her hand.

“Will you keep quiet?” Ron’s voice came out muffled from the pillow covering his head.

“Agumenti, ” Hermione whispered, pointing her wand at Ron.

“Aaaargh!” Ron yelled, jumping out of bed. He rubbed his eyes slowly, turning around to walk into the bathroom. “’M taking a shower!” Ron moaned, closing the door.

Hermione looked expectantly at Harry and Ginny. “I’ll go change,” Ginny said, rummaging in her bag by the bed. She picked up a bundle of clothes and turned towards Harry, waiting.

“What?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.

“I have to get dressed,” Ginny explained.

“I’m not stopping you,” Harry said jokingly, laughing at the look on girls’ faces. Ginny smiled but then realized he was breaking another rule: flirting. Maybe she was overreacting again, and this was just a friendly banter.

“Out, out, out!” Hermione shooed him. Harry walked out the door, still chuckling. Ginny threw the clothes onto the bed, putting together an outfit. After deciding on and changing into skinny jeans, a white halter-top, and white pumps, she opened the door for Harry.

“You look really n�”,” Harry started, “um…not bad.” He quickly looked away, and walked over towards the bed. Ginny furrowed her brow, and then remembered they were just friends. But friends could compliment each other, right?

“Hermione, could you do my hair?” Ginny asked, closing the door.

“Sure, how do you want it?” Hermione chirped brightly pulling out her wand. Ginny looked into the mirror, across from the bed.

“Curly, please!” Ginny said, brushing her fingers through her flaming hair.

“All right,” Hermione raised her wand and pointed it at Ginny’s head. “ Crisp…ooo!”

“The spell’s Crispus,” Ginny said. Hermione just stared over Ginny’s shoulder, her mouth hanging open. Ginny waved in front of her face to try and get her attention, but Hermione just let out a little moan. Ginny turned around. Ron was wrapped in a towel from waist down.

“Wow. Hermione you look…,” Ron said, staring at Hermione, oblivious to Hermione examining his chest. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“Ron, put on a shirt!,” she ordered, pointing to his chest. Ron turned towards Ginny.

“You don’t like my muscles?” he teased, flexing his arms. Hermione let out a short breath and began to sway. Ginny grabbed onto her wrist to stop her from toppling over.

“No,” Ginny said stiffly. He turned around to grab a tee shirt off the bed. “Very smooth, Hermione,” Ginny added under her breath. Hermione snapped out of her daze, and shook her head.

“I’m so sorry,” Hermione whispered shakily.

“You don’t have to apologize for ogling my brother,” said Ginny laughing. Hermione shushed her.

“No, I mean…uh…your hair,” she whispered fingering fiery strands on Ginny’s head. Ginny turned around to face the mirror. Gold strands mixed with her standard red. It would stand out in a crowd. Of clowns. She ran her hand through her hair. It was definitely…different.

“Is there something you can do to fix it?” Ginny asked tentatively, not wanting to make Hermione feel guilty.

“Well, I don’t really know the spell that I did in the first place, but um…” Hermione flicked her wand and Ginny’s hair gently curled, making the gold shine. “I’m really sorry. I…it’s most likely not permanent,” she whispered.

Ginny shook her head letting her curls bounce and glimmer in the light. Her red hair was always noticeable so maybe this wasn’t that unusual. She saw Harry looking at her from the corner of the mirror. Ginny played with her hair a little more before facing Hermione.

“It’s not that bad,” Ginny said with a grin; she could feel Harry watching her. Ron walked out of the bathroom, fully clothed.

“So,” he said fixing his collar, “not to bad, eh?” He was wearing a blue buttoned down shirt, with his white wife beater showing, and loose fitting jeans. Ginny heard Hermione sigh.

“You clean up nicely,” Hermione said blushing slightly. She turned to the mirror to put on some eyeliner. Ron’s ears went red.

“Is that what you’re wearing tonight?” Ginny asked abruptly, turning to Harry. He had on ripped jeans and an old tee shirt.

“No, I just thought I’d put it on to annoy you,” Harry answered, rolling his eyes and putting his hands behind his head so he could lean on the headboard. Ginny smiled and grabbed Harry’s knapsack by the nightstand. “Hey! What are you doing?” Harry sat up, and swung his legs on to the floor.

Ginny ignored him, and continued looking through his bag. She pulled out clothes, placing them on the desk, searching for something.

“You need to go shopping, wait…wait…” Ginny dug around the bottom of the bag, “nice knickers!” Ginny laughed, holding up a pair of Harry’s boxers for him to see. Little broomsticks zoomed all around the green background of the cloth. Harry scowled, grabbing the boxers and threw them into his knapsack. Ginny sighed and picked up Ron’s duffle bag.

“You know you’re in need of help when you have to wear Ron’s clothes,” Ginny said, picking a jacket out of the bag and tossing it to him. Harry raised his eyebrows. “Please, put it on,” she begged.

Reluctantly Harry shrugged into the black jacket. Ginny smiled. “It looks good,” she said. “Just…hmmm.” This time Ginny went through her own bag to pull out a blue tube of hair product.

“What are you going to do?” Harry asked hesitantly. Hermione walked over to them.

“You know his hair doesn’t go down,” she said.

“I know.” Ginny smiled. “Hold out your hands.” Harry looked to Hermione for help, but she just shrugged. He unwillingly lifted his hands, so his palms faced the ceiling. Ginny squirted a little bit of hair cream in each one. “Now, run your hands through your hair.” Harry did as he was told.

“This stuff feels weird,” Harry whined, looking at his hair in the mirror.

“This coming from a guy who once sat in death gripping vines. And you think hair product is weird?” Hermione asked.

“You were in the Devil’s Snare too,” Harry said.

”She’s not the one complaining,” Ron said. Ginny cocked her head to the side, trying to decide the inevitable. His hair was sticking straight back, and she couldn’t leave it that way. She had to fix it, even if it broke a friendship rule.

“Come here,” Ginny said motioning to Harry. “I need to fix this.” Harry just sat on the bed, eyebrows furrowed. So Ginny moved to him. She held her breath as she ruffled his hair. She could feel Hermione and Ron staring at her. Ginny placed the last piece of hair flawlessly over his right eye and hopped off the bed.

“Done,” Ginny said, rubbing the access cream on her pants. She stood in front of her finished project, admiring it. Harry’s hair was perfect. It stuck up at all the right angles now. Harry looked into the mirror and gave a smile, which looked more like a grimace. Ginny laughed and patted his head.

“Are we ready to go now?” Ron asked, walking around the room impatiently, looking between Harry and Ginny.

“You know you have to go to the Burrow now, right?” Hermione asked viciously, because the mere thought of someone forgetting an important responsibility was extremely upsetting to her.

“Of course I knew that,” said Ron checking his watch. “I just didn’t realize it’s been an hour already. Well, I’ll meet you in the lobby.” He picked up his wand off the table, about to Apparate.

“Wait, Ron!” Hermione called running up to him. She started unbuttoning his collared shirt. Ron’s eyes just about popped out of his head and Ginny started giggling.

“Um…Hermione,” Harry started, sounding uncomfortable, “what are you doing?” Hermione finished unbuttoning and removed his shirt, folded it and placed it on the bed.

“He can’t go to the Burrow all dressed up! They have to think we’re about to go to bed. Ron, put on another pair of pants,” she added turning to Ron, whose mouth was still hanging open. Ginny fell onto the bed laughing. “Why did you ask? What did you think I was �”Oh Merlin!” Hermione blushed and quickly stepped away from Ron. Harry also started chuckling as Ron’s ears turned a bright red.

“Let’s go!” Hermione said, flustered. She ran past Ron and out the door. Ginny picked herself up from the bed, biting on her lip in an attempt to stop from snickering. Harry followed suit.

“Meet you downstairs,” Harry called over his shoulder before closing the door.

“””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””””

After leaving, Harry and Ginny found Hermione already in the lobby, sitting on a couch, with a magazine in her hands. About two seconds later a giggling Christa came towards Harry, trying her best to ignore Ginny and Hermione.

“This is my friend Lana,” Christa said, flipping her embarrassingly fake auburn hair over her shoulder. “And that’s my sister Bunny.” Christa pointed towards the main desk, where the big-nosed hotel clerk was chatting up a blonde girl in a shiny top, or lack thereof.

“Her name’s Bunny?” Ginny asked, laughing. Christa turned her perfectly plucked, waxed, and tanned face towards Ginny.

“Yeah. Why is that so funny?,” she asked curtly, looking insulted.

“No, I mean, it’s just…Bunny sounds like…she, uh, works...um,” Ginny stammered, suppressing her giggles. Hermione nudged her in the side, telling her to cut it out, but Harry fought back a smile. “Never mind.”

“She works in social services,” Christa said, confused at the sudden interest in her sister’s profession.

“Oh, I’ll bet she does,” Ginny muttered under her breath, swallowing the laughs that were threatening to escape. Hermione’s eyes were watering from trying not to giggle. Harry gave up, and made an alarming sort of choking sound before firmly pressing his lips together.

“What do you mean by�””Christa started, but Lana cut her off.

“Don’t you have a friend coming?” she asked Harry, twirling a dark curl around her finger.

“Uh, yeah,” Harry got out between coughs. Lana looked around hopefully. “He should be down in a minute. He’s just…uh�””

“Getting married next week and very excited,” Ginny jumped in, smiling. Hermione and Harry looked at her in shock.

“He’s going to be married?” Lana asked, disappointed.

“Yeah, to Hermione,” Ginny said, pointing to the brunette next to her.

“No, he’s�”” Hermione started, but Ron came over to them, now in his clubbing clothes.

“Everything’s fine at the Burrow,” he affirmed, and then turned to the girls in front of him. “Uh, hey…”

“ He’s your fiancé?” Lana asked, looking back to Hermione. Ron’s jaw dropped, and Hermione turned red.

“What?” he spluttered. Lana looked confused, but then eyed Ron enthusiastically at the thought of him not being in a relationship.

“Yes, he is!” Hermione snapped, fiercely staring down Lana. To prove the point, Hermione walked toward Ron and took his hand in hers. If Ron’s mouth was hanging open then, it was nothing to what it was doing now. Ginny thought his jaw might have unhinged. Lana narrowed her eyes before storming off towards Bunny, who was now laughing and lightly touching the hotel clerk’s arm.

“We should get going!” Ginny exclaimed, grinning at Ron’s disbelieving expression. Ginny skipped forward, and the rest followed.

“Guys, we’re leaving,” Christa called towards the front desk. Bunny smiled at the clerk and walked over, Lana trailing behind her.

“Guess what? We’re now staying for free,” Bunny chortled as the group walked out the door. Ginny looked over at Hermione. She didn’t seem to hear that Bunny’s flirting abilities or other attributes had gotten her a free stay, but instead was focusing on the floor and looking anywhere, except at Ron.

“That’s Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hern�”Herninny,” Christa said pointing to each person as she said their name.

“It’s Hermione,” Harry corrected her. Christa smiled her best apologetic smile, but Ginny doubted it was sincere.

“You know, Ron and Hermione are going to be married! ” Lana said in a tone that she obviously wanted everyone to know was fake. This brought another round of pink cheeks and red ears from Ron and Hermione.

“Congratulations!” Bunny exclaimed, looking between the two.

“So, do you guys want to share a cab or, do you want your own?” Christa asked, digging through her purse. Ginny and Harry looked towards Hermione; she was in charge of the minor details, like finances. Ginny was more in charge of the main idea of their trip: fun.

“We’re a little low on money,” Hermione said in a voice a little louder than a whisper.

“Well, the club’s pretty close, so we can just walk,” Bunny suggested.

“It’s actually far and I don’t want to walk in my shoes,” Lana moaned, pointing to her stilettos.

“I think you’ll survive,” Ginny said. Lana pursed her lips.

“Fine.”

As it turned out, the club was far. Ginny’s feet were aching by the time they got to the club. But the worst part of the walk was the added company. The whole way there, Lana was grilling Ron and Hermione about their so-called engagement. Ginny could tell she was just trying to call them out on their lies.

“So, when’s the big day?” Lana asked, smirking.

“September seventh,” Hermione answered curtly.

“That soon? Are you pregnant?” she whispered. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“No!” Hermione exclaimed, shocked. She felt her belly self-consciously.

“Oh! Um…Where are you going on the honeymoon?” Lana asked.

“It doesn’t matter where we’re going. The most important thing is what we’re doing,” Ron said, snaking his arm around a blushing Hermione’s waist and pulling her closer. That shut Lana up for the rest of the walk. Ginny was impressed with her brother. He actually saw that Hermione was fed up with Lana, so he helped her out. Or he could of just really wanted pull her closer.

Christa was chatting up Harry. The entire time she was either batting her eyelashes, or laughing at his jokes like they were the funniest things she ever heard. So that left Ginny walking next to Bunny.

“And then, the girl from the bar totally lost it. She was throwing drinks like baseballs!” Bunny squealed. Baseballs? Ginny thought as she peered around Bunny’s grand arm gestures. She wanted to see if Harry was telling Christa to back off. But Ginny knew Harry was too nice for that, so maybe she could just watch him be uncomfortable that close to girl that wasn’t her. Ginny sighed. Or he could have moved on. They were broken up.

“Excuse me, Rabbit,” Ginny said, smiling politely and picking up her pace to catch Harry.

“It’s Bunny!” Bunny called after her, laughing at Ginny’s mistake.

The rest of the walk, Ginny continually butted into Christa’s ramblings. Ginny was happy to see Harry laughing at her purposefully stupid questions or muttered sarcastic remarks. Thankfully, they finally got to the club, and Ginny was able to pull her friends from Christa, Lana and Bunny’s evil clutches.

Disclaimer: It's not mine...

Are Death Eaters Buying You Drinks Again?

Ginny walked inside the club, keeping to the right, and swerved around waiters and dancers, searching for a place to sit. She finally found a cushioned bench, curved around a wooden table. It was perfect for four people. She motioned the others over. Harry and Ron slid into their seats obediently; Hermione coughed loudly next to her, probably to prove that there was too much smoke in here, and it was unhealthy. Ginny rolled her eyes.

“I’m going to get some drinks,” she offered, trying to talk over the loud music. Without waiting for an answer, she strutted across the dance floor. Ginny walked up to the smooth counter of the bar.

“Can I have�”” Ginny started, looking at the menu posted on the wall. She had no idea what any of these drinks were. Darn Muggles, she thought bitterly. Picking randomly was the obvious solution. “Can I have four marga�”” A loud cough close by, cut her off.

“Four ginger ales,” Hermione instructed. The bartender nodded, and began preparing their order.

“I can get drinks by myself,” Ginny complained, crossing her arms.

“Yeah, but the drinks you were going to get would have left us stripping in the middle of the dance floor,” Hermione countered.

“I didn’t know it had alcohol!” Ginny claimed innocently. Hermione raised an eyebrow and glanced at the menu. “Margaritas” were listed under the “Alcoholic Drinks” section. “Fine! I did. And it wouldn’t have left us that sloshed.”

The bartender clunked four glasses on the counter, and held out his hand expectantly. Hermione reached into her jean pocket, unfolding a couple of paper bills. Ginny heard a creak as the man next to them swiveled around on his stool. He had slippery black hair and bumpy skin. He smiled slowly, showing a gold tooth on the upper right corner of his mouth. It sent shivers up Ginny’s spine.

“Let me get that for you,” the man proposed. He dropped some papers next to the drinks.

“No, it’s all right,” Hermione declined, holding out her money to the bartender.

“I got it, sugar,” the man insisted with a wink. He pushed the money farther down the bar, until the bartender took it.

“Um…thanks,” Ginny said nervously. She grabbed two drinks and nudged Hermione in her arm, wanting her to do the same. Together they walked back to the table.

“What a creeper,” declared Ginny, as they made their way back. Hermione shuddered.

“I think you might want to peel his eyes off your arse,” she said worriedly, glancing over her shoulder.

Ginny took a sip of her ginger ale. “At least we got free drinks.”

“So nasty perverts can picture you naked all they want, as long as they buy you free drinks?” Hermione asked sarcastically. “Merlin knows what else guys can get you to do as long as they give you something! Oh, here’s a puppy! Give me a lap dance,” she mimicked, in a sad attempt at a male voice. Ginny spun around to face her.

“Hermione, you know I wouldn’t do that.” Ginny stared at her coldly. “You’re just looking for a way to get out of having fun tonight. Let me tell you, blaming me won’t work!”

“Ginny this is not safe! We shouldn’t have come here. What if that disturbing guy was a serial killer? Or what if he was a Death Eater?” Hermione whispered furiously. Ginny ignored Hermione’s last comment and pushed past her, sliding into their booth.

“What took you so long?” Ron wondered, grabbing a ginger ale. Hermione stomped over to stand beside Ginny, looking down at her. Ginny smiled, taking the ginger ales from Hermione, and setting them on the table.

Harry looked uncertain. “Is everything alright?”

“This Death Eater bought us drinks. And Hermione thinks he has a sinister plan to murder us,” Ginny kidded, coolly. Harry’s drink slipped out of his hand, and smashed onto the table. He jumped up, whipping out his wand. Ron spluttered, spraying ginger ale everywhere.

“Where is he?” Harry whispered, deadly serious.

“Relax, Harry! Ginny was just twisting my words, to make a little joke. Now, put your wand away!” Hermione explained hurriedly.

“You were joking about Death Eaters?” Harry accused, disgust evident on his face. Ginny blushed with shame. She felt like a puppy that was just caught chewing on her owner’s shoe. Ginny was sure, if she had a tail, it would be between her legs.

Harry put his wand back into his pocket, and sat down. This time Ginny didn’t have to move around to make sure she wasn’t touching him. Harry made sure of that himself.

“Well you should have seen Hermione! This bloke buys us drinks, and she’s scared he’s going to murder us!” Ginny described defensively. She hated when Harry was disappointed with her.

Hermione sat down opposite Ginny. “For all we know, he could have poisoned our drinks!”

Ron pushed his glass away from him and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve.

“We were standing right there! We would have seen him slip in some arsenic,” Ginny reasoned. Hermione pursed her lips sourly.

“Okay, so I was wrong to joke about Death Eaters,” Ginny admitted, glancing hopefully at Harry from the corner of her eye, “but I still think you’re being paranoid,” she added to the brunette across from her.

“No, I’m concerned,” Hermione stated sternly.

“Don’t get in a fuss over it,” Ron intervened. “Merlin knows the more you worry, the less we have to.” Hermione scowled.

“We’re not saying you shouldn’t care, but maybe you should…” Harry paused, looking for a word.

“Lighten up,” Ginny finished for him. Hermione scowled again.

“You think it’s safe to drink this?” Ron asked her, holding up the glass of ginger ale. “It might be poisoned.” The corners of his mouth were twitching.

Hermione sighed. “Fine, I’ll be good.”

“Let’s dance!” Ginny proclaimed randomly, popping out of her seat. The table rocked back and forth as the glasses swayed dangerously. The rest of the group looked at her, taken back.

“C’mon,” she urged. Hermione stood warily, making her way to the dance floor. “You two aren’t coming?”

Harry and Ron shared a look. Ginny hoped it was an “I-really-want-to-dance” look. It wasn’t. They stayed seated, gulping down their drinks and watching the glass condensate.

“It’ll be good practice for the wedding,” Ginny coaxed. Ron shook his head at her poor effort. His gaze traveled over Ginny’s shoulder and she saw Ron’s eyes become focused on something. He slowly stood up and walked past the confused redhead. Ginny turned around to find Ron wondering towards a smiling Hermione. She was watching her brother awkwardly place his hands on Hermione’s waist when someone tapped her shoulder.

Ginny twirled around to come face to face with Harry. Apparently he decided that if Ron was dancing he had to as well. Without a word, he nodded towards the floor and began walking. Ginny tilted her head, watching him go. Her gaze slid down to his bum. Ginny quickly shut her eyes so hard she felt them start to water. After many deep breaths she joined her friends on the floor.

By the time she wandered over to them, Harry, Ron and Hermione were just a group dancing. No partners. No couples. It was just the way Ginny wanted, and needed, it. They danced like that for a while, bopping along to the beat.

“Looks like you’re having fun, Hermione,” Ginny said, grinning. Hermione returned the smile, and rolled her eyes halfway before catching herself. Ginny thought that was a big improvement, even though the only reason she stopped rolling her eyes was because Ron stepped on her toe.

Yet another tap on her shoulder caused Ginny to whip around. The first thing she saw was a man’s chest covered by a black t-shirt, with red letters spelling “I don’t know what makes you dumb, but it really works.”

“Do you want to dance?” he asked. Ginny jumped nervously, pulling her eyes up to look at the stranger. He had golden hair that curled around his ears, and squinting brown eyes. He was handsome, sure, but he wasn’t Ginny’s type. For starters, he didn’t have a scar.

“Um. Do you want to dance?” he repeated, this time louder.

“I, uh,” Ginny stammered. She turned to look behind her for some guidance. Ron turned his narrowed eyes at Ginny’s admirer.

“Be careful,” Hermione whispered warily. Ron scowled at her. Ginny turned to Harry. He stood there impassively until he felt Ginny’s eyes on him. Harry smiled, and nodded to the bloke behind her. Almost reluctantly, Ginny followed Harry’s silent suggestion.

“I’d love to dance,” she answered.

“He could be a Death Eater,” Ginny heard Ron whisper furiously, as her new dance partner led her to an empty spot by the stage. A loud rock song was being blasted by the band on the elevated platform. The music from the speakers made everything pulsate, sending vibrations through the floor. Two silver poles were on either side of the stage. Girls were flipping and spinning around, over and near them.

“I’m Nate, by the way,” he initiated, placing his hands on Ginny’s waist. Ginny flinched lightly at his touch, but smoothly covered it up with a smile. His hands were hot and sweaty. She hated that. Harry was always pleasantly warm. You shouldn’t compare him to Harry. It’s not fair, Ginny reasoned, trying to banish him from her mind.

“Nate,” she tried out the name in her mouth. It felt foreign. “I’m Ginny.” She laid her hands apprehensively on his shoulders. They uneasily rocked back and forth to the music.

“I like your shirt,” Ginny complemented, watching the light reflect off the shiny red letters.

“Thanks. My friend searched everywhere for it. He wasn’t sure if he should get one that said “Girls are like pianos. When they’re not upright, they’re grand.” But I don’t think that’s uh…appropriate. It’s bleeding funny, but my Mum would flip. She’s always so uptight and�”” Nate continued to babble about his Mother’s stress issues. Ginny added words of agreement when he paused, but she quickly returned to tuning him out.

Ginny let her mind wander. The band was playing an old song that she remembered hearing years ago at some Muggle place and the lyrics swam through her head. Her eyes were threatening to close. Drowsiness was pulling them down, farther and farther, until they shut peacefully.

Ginny thought she heard someone call her name. She ignored them. The only person she wanted to speak to was the one she couldn’t. But it didn’t matter what she wanted. He broke up with her. He’s going to leave her in the middle of the war. Ginny tried not to be selfish. Putting up the brave façade was hard, but he needed it. Not to mention her family required it.

She felt her left eye start to tear, and she allowed the drop to form around her eyelashes. But that was it. Ginny fluttered her eyes causing the tear to vanish. She had enough of crying for today. Ginny took a deep breath. Smoke filled her lungs, along with Nate’s cologne. Her eyes snapped open. Nate! She forgot he was right there!

“Sorry,” she murmured sheepishly, interrupting Nate’s monologue.

“What for?” he asked, baffled. Ginny realized that Nate hadn’t noticed her closed eyes. He’d been talking the whole time.

“Erm…I’m thirsty,” Ginny blurted out.

Nate chuckled. “No need to apologize for that.” He escorted her to the bar, ordered two sodas and paid for both. Maybe Ginny wouldn’t have to buy drinks at all tonight. After handing her the glass, Nate leaned against the counter and resumed his persistent small talk. This time Ginny really did try to pay attention. He seemed like an all right guy. Definitely not Prince Charming, but a welcome distraction.

Nate had a bulldog named Bubba. He had a job as a waiter in a local restaurant. He lived with his parents, but next week was moving into apartment in the city with his friend, Adam. He was looking forward to living somewhere more urban, since he’d only lived in a suburb of London for all of his life. In the middle of describing his plans to become an orthodontist (whatever that is) it struck Ginny as she stood there how completely ignorant the Muggles were of the Wizarding World crises, despite the fact that it was biting them on the nose. They didn’t know Lord Voldemort was a murderous, raving lunatic and he’d kill any of them at first glance.

Nate’s jabber stopped. It seemed that he was expecting something. So much for paying attention, thought Ginny.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“I was wondering if I could get your phone number.” Nate smiled. “Maybe we could get together sometime,” he offered.

Ginny opened and closed her mouth, unsure of what to say. “I don’t think I can. I’m going away to school tomorrow, and they…um…don’t allow visitors.”

“No phone calls either?” he asked suspiciously. Ginny wasn’t exactly sure what a “phone call” was.

“No. They’re really strict. Sorry. I had a lot of fun. Thank you.” With that, Ginny placed her drink on the bar and walked away. It wasn’t a total lie, Ginny reasoned.

Sighing, Ginny found the booth that she previously occupied with Harry, Ron and Hermione. It was empty except for the three glasses on the table. She dropped into her seat, and downed the glass in front of her. She felt a faint burn as the liquid went down her throat, and decided to solve it by gulping more ginger ale out of Hermione’s glass.

She saw a mop of red hair on the dance floor, and knew it to be her brother. Hermione’s brown curls were close to him, but there was no sign of the jet black. Ginny rubbed her throbbing temples. Sleep was calling her name, and Ginny succumbed once more to closing her eyes. Ginny’s mind was at peace for about five seconds, when an unknown voice startled her.

“Are you okay?”

“I…” Ginny started. Her vision was blurred. She blinked a couple of times and looked up at the stranger standing over her. Three women, a little older than herself, glanced at her tentatively.

“That’s our table,” one of them asserted.

“Tiff, be nice!” another scolded. “Are you all right?” The woman crouched down so she was level with Ginny.

“I’m fine,” Ginny answered, unsure. She sat up straight, her head slightly spinning. The woman pushed her long blonde hair behind her shoulder and stood up.

“Well, you’re at our table.”

Ginny looked around. This looked like her table. Then she saw the light catch something on the table next to this one. She studied it carefully and saw pieces of broken glass, three cups with a light liquid and…Harry’s jacket. Maybe this wasn’t her table. She groaned.

“I’m really sorry. I thought this was my table,” she mutterd.

“It’s okay.”

“I’m also sorry about your drinks,” Ginny apologized, motioning to the empty glasses.

“Don’t worry about it,” the blonde said, shrugging it off. Ginny stood up. She rocked hazardously, and stumbled into one of the women.

“By any chance, did that have alcohol in it?” Ginny pointed to the glasses.

“Yes. They were margaritas.”

“Oh. Well, bye, then.” How Ginny had mistook a red margarita for ginger ale? She had no idea. Hermione’s going to kill me, she thought with sigh.

Ginny meandered through the dancing crowd. She tried to find Harry, Ron, and Hermione but all of the moving couples blurred around her. Then something caught her eye. She looked up to the stage. The silver poles gleamed in the spotlight. The girls near them performed a perfectly choreographed dance. Compulsion drew Ginny to the shining stick, and she climbed the stairs to the stage.

A voice in the back of Ginny’s head told her that she shouldn’t make decisions right after she drank a Margarita. I’m not doing this because of alcohol, Ginny rationalized with the voice. I’m not sloshed. It’s just for fun. Because I want to do it.

“You’re not supposed to be up here, doll.” One woman stopped dancing and quickly stepped to the side of the stage where Ginny stood. Ginny couldn’t place her accent, it was deep but endearing, and certainly wasn’t British. She had a heavily painted face with deep creases under her eyes.

“I wanted to…uh…pole dance?” Ginny asked, unsure of what she should call the woman’s job. The woman took a deep breath, causing the glitter on her costume to catch the light and shine.

“That’s probably not a good idea,” she answered. “My boss will get mad. Sorry, hon.”

A stumpy, balding man came to the edge of the stage. He smoked a cigar with his right hand, and had full glass of an amber drink in his other hand. “I told you to dance! I want to see something shaking!” he ordered.

For a second, Ginny thought this complete stranger was talking to her. She was about to tell him that the only thing he’ll see shaking is his own stomach, but the dancer next to her cut in.

“I’m in the middle of a conversation, okay?” Her smoky voice sounded strained.

“If you want to get paid tonight, you’ll dance!” he commanded. Then in a softer, more evil, voice he added, “Normally the homeless prefer a paycheck, but you, Kay, are a special case, I guess.” With that, he stomped away to yell at a waiter.

Once he was out of earshot, Kay turned to Ginny. “You still want to dance?” There was no more endearment in her voice. Kay’s angry eyes softened when Ginny nodded. She smiled. “Have fun, doll.” Kay climbed off the stage in her knee-high boots, pulling out a cigarette on the way.

Ginny turned to the pole. She wasn’t sure how to…start. She climbed up the pole, and began spinning. Ginny twirled around it, stretching her legs outward, and then bringing them in, so they wrapped around the pole gracefully. She flipped and whirled, letting her mind and body relax. Another trance-like state overtook her. But it didn’t last long.

“Ginny!” a voice yelled. She stopped suddenly, tripping over her own feet, and landed in an odd kind of split. Someone in the audience started clapping. Ginny blushed and awkwardly stood up. People probably thought she was showing off.

The voice in the back of her head was encouraging her to get off the stage immediately. But people were cheering for her. She might as well perform. Ignoring her voice of reason, Ginny stylishly jumped off the stage. There was more applause.

“Ginny!”

Ginny cringed. She realized the voice. Just then Ron came charging through the crowd, furious.