Chapter 1 - Harry gets a bit of a crush…
*Before the war and all that…*
“Ginny,” Harry Potter sighed theatrically, “Ginny I can’t stand the thought of you being targeted-because of me. I don’t want you to get hurt, and I think we should get away from each other before Voldemort finds out about us. I won’t let that happen, Ginny. I just can’t…”
As he gazed into her brown eyes, Ginny sighed also, knowing he wouldn’t budge on this. “Okay, Harry, but don’t get yourself killed, and don’t expect me to wait forever, or not to join the Order. I’ll be of age in a year and I have my own demons to face…”
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About two years after Dumbledore’s death, Harry emerged, victorious, from the rather large pile of debris that had once been the Ministry of Magic. He had defeated the Dark and Evil Lord Voldemort, and was feeling quite chuffed with himself. The Great War, as many were calling it, had been long and arduous, with many deaths and even more minor lacerations. None of Harry’s friends had died; Hermione had suffered more paper cuts than anything else, they had all proved themselves again and again, first with their search for the Horcruxes, and then in the battlefield. It had been Draco Malfoy who had killed Nagini, surprisingly, as revenge for his mother’s death. With the final Horcrux destroyed, Harry had been able to kill old Voldie easily enough.
There had been his moments of doubt, of course… That one time when Bellatrix Lestrange had had him tied at the top of a Very Tall Cliff had been a bit of a nail biter, but he had pulled through; Ginny Weasley had managed to levitate him down, recover his wand, and ward off other Death Eaters in the area. His encounter with the Very Large Insect had been slightly perturbing too, and he had rather thought he was a bit done for, but Ginny Weasley had successfully stupefied and arrested Lucius Malfoy, freed Harry, returned safely to headquarters with the both of them and gathered the information of the Death Eater’s hiding place from a reluctant Malfoy. His most perplexing brush had happened there; being rather caught unawares with a shoelace untied, he had almost been hit with one of Voldemort’s Very Nasty Curses, but Ginny Weasley had deflected it, before finally leaving Harry to Do His Thang.
The rest, as they say in wizard-land, is history. Harry Potter returned from the battlefield a hero in his own right, having rid the land of the wicked beasties. Due to his now evident evil-fighting skills, he was very rich and famous. Girls flocked from Very Far Away Places to be by his side and to giggle excitedly at his tales of brave deeds. Street-vending-people made Harry Potter statues and love struck witches wrote books of his heroic escapades, (with rather embellished romantic encounters). Harry developed a taste for eminence and adulation, and was never seen out without some pretty witch on his arm. He always got what he wanted, and now lived in a Very Large House, with house elves and the like.
Hermione Granger did not forgive Harry for his treatment of the elves, and took herself off to study in the Mediterranean a year after the war. Ron followed her, because he loved her, and because Harry was unlikely to notice his absence. Harry did notice his friends had gone, but he assumed they’d be back shortly, to live off his fame and popularity like lots of his new friends seemed to do. He continued to bask in the glory of his valiant and daring deeds, becoming a professional Quidditch player for a while, an actor, a singer/songwriter…
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In fact, Harry didn’t hear from either of his best friends until he received a letter about three years after the War had ended. He was rudely awoken by a rather old but still Very Mad Owl, who he vaguely remembered as Pig. The small creature hopped excitedly around his head as he read the letter, written in Hermione’s neat handwriting.
Dear Harry,
Though I know we have not spoken in years, you were always a good friend to Ron and I in school. I am writing to invite you to our wedding next Thursday. It would mean a lot to Ron if you would come, I know you are well; that fact is well documented. The wedding will be at The Burrow, and we have invited the other Order members. The press will not be there, however, so you can be yourself again. Don’t bring a date; we want the wedding to be small. Mrs. Weasley has missed you, and, considering all she and her family have done for you over the years, I think the least you can do is to see her again.
Hermione
After re-reading the letter once, Harry turned to the owl, which was obviously waiting for a response. He sent a brief note of affirmation. It was charming, elegant, but decidedly polite and slightly cool. He had wished to distance himself as much as possible from the Weasleys, and others like them. They were not terribly good for his image, and, to be honest, he found it rather embarrassing the way they all fawned over him. He knew he was fabulous, of course, but there was a limit to how much adoration he could stand. He was a modest wizard, after all.
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Ginny Weasley opened her eyes on the morning of her youngest brother’s wedding. She stretched her arms and gazed absent-mindedly around her old room. It was still the room of a child, a little girl’s blue-and-pink haven. Being in the room used to bring back painful memories; it was there that the great Harry Potter had dumped her for the last time. But now she could recall without much bitterness all that had happened in there. With a sigh, she got up off the bed and padded down the hall to Hermione’s room, to help her get ready for the biggest day of her life.
As she suspected, the older witch was in a bit of a state. She was wandering around the room, muttering something about French revolutions. Ginny seriously considered backing s-l-o-w-l-y out of the door and escaping, but Hermione turned around as she was about to exit.
“Oh, Ginny!” Hermione flung herself into Ginny’s arms, nearly knocking her over.
Ginny muttered some kind of consoling words into Hermione’s hair and she straightened up slightly.
“Well,” she said shakily, “let’s get this over with then.”
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Harry arrived at The Burrow slightly late (fashionably so). He was slightly taken aback by Mrs. Weasley’s enthusiastic embrace, but favoured her with an indulgent smile all the same. He asked where he might find the groom-to-be. Molly Weasley sniffed happily as she informed Harry that Ron was behind the old oak tree in the garden.
Ron was practicing some sort of speech with Neville when Harry approached. He cocked a handsomely inquisitive eyebrow and waited for Ron to finish. When he had, Harry gave a discreet cough. Ron’s own rather bushy eyebrows shot upwards, and he turned to face his former best friend.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“Wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” Harry replied, smiling politely.
Ron looked as if he could have said more, but chose instead to hold out his hand. They shook hands in a grown up, reserved way, any old familiarity long gone. Maybe more could have been said or done, but neither was very inclined to be the one to cave in and admit they might have missed each other.
That being said, there was a wedding to be getting on with, and Ron was very preoccupied with sweating profusely and wringing his hands. He began babbling about muggle knights, and did not notice Harry slip away silently, to find a seat and to wait for this rather trying ordeal to be over.
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The ceremony was truly beautiful, Ginny decided. Hermione looked beautiful and she watched from her side as Ron spoke about his love for the witch he was about to marry. Though his speech was a bit long-winded, and contained rather more about badgers than was strictly normal, it was touching, and heartfelt, and she could see that for all Hermione cared, it could have been a dirty limerick, because she was very happy, rather fond of badgers herself, and she was in love. Once the representative from the ministry had finished their rites, Ron and Hermione led the way to the makeshift dance floor, on the lawn where they used to play Quidditch as children.
Ginny wandered in her mother’s direction, her head full of happy thoughts. Unfortunately for her, she failed to notice anyone in her way until it was too late. Within seconds, she was on the floor in a rather untidy heap. Blindly, she took the hand that was offered to assist her. Brushing herself off, she looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes, flashing behind trademark glasses.
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Harry, to be perfectly honest, was faintly bored by the service. Hermione appeared to be dressed in an oversized meringue and the red head, who had once known all of his secrets, and fears, was waffling on about badgers. The smartest witch in his year was smiling mushily. It would be mortifying to think of this pair as anything above old acquaintances.
So, instead of watching the ceremony, Harry surveyed the guests, hoping to find some attractive distant relative or other to make the day not a complete waste of time.
Looking around, he believed he had found the lucky witch. She was standing behind Hermione, so his view was partly obscured, but he was sure she was lovely. She had the long, flowing red Weasley hair, but it was darker than Ron’s, and fell in loose curls down her back. She was dressed in green, and Harry could see that she had long, lovely legs and a decent chest at that. It was decided, then. He would be taking that girl home tonight.
After the ceremony, Harry strolled casually over to where the girl was headed and stood in front of her, waiting for her to gasp when she realised that she was in the presence of The Great Harry Potter; Boy Who Lived to defeat the evil Lord Voldemort. Harry smiled modestly at the thought. No girl stood a chance in the face of his fame and glory. She would look up any second now.
The girl crashed straight into him, falling over in the process. Harry reassessed; a bit clumsy, perhaps, but she was still very attractive. He bent elegantly to help her up, and smirked slightly when he saw the amazement in her face.
“Harry Potter.”
“Yes, I’m an old friend of Ron’s, but I don’t believe we’ve met. How do you know the Weasleys? Distant relation?”
The look of astonishment vanished from the girl’s face.
“I don’t really think that is any of your business any more, Mr. Potter. Excuse me.”
Harry barely had time to mask a slight frown. He had never had that effect on women before. He wondered what kind of game the redhead was playing. Whatever it was, it didn’t really matter, though; he was sure he’d win. He always did.
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Ginny Weasley Was Bristling With Rage and Indignation. She had not known Harry would be there, though she should probably picked up on her mother’s excitement in seeing “All the members of the Order together again, dear…” Ginny had not thought seriously about Harry Potter in over a year, though seeing his face everywhere was unavoidable. Obviously, he was not quite so modest now the papers were being complimentary…
But this was a wedding, she reminded herself, and she was not going to spoil it. Ginny plastered a charming smile on her face and stepped back out into the crowd of people surrounding the dancing area thing.
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Remus Lupin and Mad Eye Moody were talking about new developments to the Wolfsbane potion when Harry approached them. Both Aurors looked startled at the interruption, but Lupin did his best to include Harry in their conversation.
Harry was not really in a mood to be lectured by old professors, and so as soon as it was possible, he found an excuse to change the subject. The mysterious girl in the green dress reappeared and Harry saw his Window of Opportunity.
“Remus, who’s the girl over there in the green dress?”
It was Moody who goggled. “It’s Ginny Weasley,” he answered gruffly. “Don’t you remember you own best friend’s sister??”
As Harry’s eyes widened, Moody shook his head. “No offence, Potter,” he growled, his voice dripping with unexpressed resentment, “but I don’t think you stand a chance there. Bit out of your league, don’t you think?”
Harry repressed the urge to glower fiercely at Moody. He always got what he wanted, and if he decided that he wanted Ginny Weasley again, the girl would be in his arms before the hour. In fact, he knew that Ginny had been madly in love with him. Ever since she’d laid eyes on him, actually. He would show Moody that no one was out of Harry Potter’s league.
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Ginny jumped as someone put their hands on her shoulders. A low voice whispered in her ear,
“Didn’t you miss me at all, Ginny?”
She whirled around to face Harry, who was smiling ruefully down at her. Sighing, she removed the offending hands.
“What do you want, Potter?”
Harry did a very good impression of a Very Apologetic Person. Ginny was not convinced. She arched an eyebrow and turned away from him, striding purposely off to speak with Colin Creevey, who had joined the Order with her after Hogwarts.
This Ginny Weasley was certainly a far cry from the dirty, exhausted girl who had smiled happily at him after The War. He had avoided that girl as much as possible, and focused instead on the pretty ones. The girl standing just a few meters away, however, was stunning, easily surpassing the most attractive of his beloved groupies. As he watched her go to dance with Dean Thomas, her ex-boyfriend, Harry felt the return of a long-forgotten monster rearing its ugly head in the pit of his stomach. He thought back to its first appearance in his sixth year at Hogwarts, seeing her kiss Thomas. Since dating her himself, he had enjoyed her obvious adoration, so he kept her around, or so he told himself. Without Dumbledore there to twist him into the perfect moral hero, Harry had thrived on the worship of others, and since the War was over, he was never short of girls willing to adore him and help him to come to terms with his traumatic past.
Now, though, he decided, he would fight for what he deserved. After all, he had defeated the Dark and Evil Lord Voldemort. He deserved some kind of reward for all he had done. He would make Ginny see that, and he was sure she’d agree, given time to adjust her views accordingly. It would take a while, probably, longer than expected, but it would be worth it. His plan had to start now though. He headed purposefully towards the dance floor when Neville Longbottom stepped in front of him.
“Harry, I saw you staring at Ginny, and I think that you should go.”
Glaring ferociously at Neville, Harry sidestepped.
“Harry, as best man, you’ll only cause trouble if you do this. I don’t want to be the one to stop a fist fight breaking out.”
Repressing a snort of laughter, Harry drew himself up to his full height, only to find that the once short-and-pudgy Neville was a good two inches taller than him.
“Neville, I am very proud of you for finding your Gryffindor courage, but I’d like to try and sort this out on my own. What do you say?” Harry grinned with his very best hearty grin and made to step past Neville again.
“Harry, you don’t want to do that. Her boyfriend is even more protective of her than her brothers are, and it was him that she told she didn’t ever want you near her again.”
Feeling his little green friend roar in anger at the bottom of his stomach, he growled,
“Boyfriend?? And who has she seen fit to replace me with?”
“Turn around,” said Neville.
Author's notes: okay, I think you can guess who Ginny’s boyfriend is…
Also, I’m a bit sorry that I made Harry such a git, but I think he deserved it, really… PLEASE REVIEW
*Before the war and all that…*
“Ginny,” Harry Potter sighed theatrically, “Ginny I can’t stand the thought of you being targeted-because of me. I don’t want you to get hurt, and I think we should get away from each other before Voldemort finds out about us. I won’t let that happen, Ginny. I just can’t…”
As he gazed into her brown eyes, Ginny sighed also, knowing he wouldn’t budge on this. “Okay, Harry, but don’t get yourself killed, and don’t expect me to wait forever, or not to join the Order. I’ll be of age in a year and I have my own demons to face…”
About two years after Dumbledore’s death, Harry emerged, victorious, from the rather large pile of debris that had once been the Ministry of Magic. He had defeated the Dark and Evil Lord Voldemort, and was feeling quite chuffed with himself. The Great War, as many were calling it, had been long and arduous, with many deaths and even more minor lacerations. None of Harry’s friends had died; Hermione had suffered more paper cuts than anything else, they had all proved themselves again and again, first with their search for the Horcruxes, and then in the battlefield. It had been Draco Malfoy who had killed Nagini, surprisingly, as revenge for his mother’s death. With the final Horcrux destroyed, Harry had been able to kill old Voldie easily enough.
There had been his moments of doubt, of course… That one time when Bellatrix Lestrange had had him tied at the top of a Very Tall Cliff had been a bit of a nail biter, but he had pulled through; Ginny Weasley had managed to levitate him down, recover his wand, and ward off other Death Eaters in the area. His encounter with the Very Large Insect had been slightly perturbing too, and he had rather thought he was a bit done for, but Ginny Weasley had successfully stupefied and arrested Lucius Malfoy, freed Harry, returned safely to headquarters with the both of them and gathered the information of the Death Eater’s hiding place from a reluctant Malfoy. His most perplexing brush had happened there; being rather caught unawares with a shoelace untied, he had almost been hit with one of Voldemort’s Very Nasty Curses, but Ginny Weasley had deflected it, before finally leaving Harry to Do His Thang.
The rest, as they say in wizard-land, is history. Harry Potter returned from the battlefield a hero in his own right, having rid the land of the wicked beasties. Due to his now evident evil-fighting skills, he was very rich and famous. Girls flocked from Very Far Away Places to be by his side and to giggle excitedly at his tales of brave deeds. Street-vending-people made Harry Potter statues and love struck witches wrote books of his heroic escapades, (with rather embellished romantic encounters). Harry developed a taste for eminence and adulation, and was never seen out without some pretty witch on his arm. He always got what he wanted, and now lived in a Very Large House, with house elves and the like.
Hermione Granger did not forgive Harry for his treatment of the elves, and took herself off to study in the Mediterranean a year after the war. Ron followed her, because he loved her, and because Harry was unlikely to notice his absence. Harry did notice his friends had gone, but he assumed they’d be back shortly, to live off his fame and popularity like lots of his new friends seemed to do. He continued to bask in the glory of his valiant and daring deeds, becoming a professional Quidditch player for a while, an actor, a singer/songwriter…
In fact, Harry didn’t hear from either of his best friends until he received a letter about three years after the War had ended. He was rudely awoken by a rather old but still Very Mad Owl, who he vaguely remembered as Pig. The small creature hopped excitedly around his head as he read the letter, written in Hermione’s neat handwriting.
Dear Harry,
Though I know we have not spoken in years, you were always a good friend to Ron and I in school. I am writing to invite you to our wedding next Thursday. It would mean a lot to Ron if you would come, I know you are well; that fact is well documented. The wedding will be at The Burrow, and we have invited the other Order members. The press will not be there, however, so you can be yourself again. Don’t bring a date; we want the wedding to be small. Mrs. Weasley has missed you, and, considering all she and her family have done for you over the years, I think the least you can do is to see her again.
Hermione
After re-reading the letter once, Harry turned to the owl, which was obviously waiting for a response. He sent a brief note of affirmation. It was charming, elegant, but decidedly polite and slightly cool. He had wished to distance himself as much as possible from the Weasleys, and others like them. They were not terribly good for his image, and, to be honest, he found it rather embarrassing the way they all fawned over him. He knew he was fabulous, of course, but there was a limit to how much adoration he could stand. He was a modest wizard, after all.
Ginny Weasley opened her eyes on the morning of her youngest brother’s wedding. She stretched her arms and gazed absent-mindedly around her old room. It was still the room of a child, a little girl’s blue-and-pink haven. Being in the room used to bring back painful memories; it was there that the great Harry Potter had dumped her for the last time. But now she could recall without much bitterness all that had happened in there. With a sigh, she got up off the bed and padded down the hall to Hermione’s room, to help her get ready for the biggest day of her life.
As she suspected, the older witch was in a bit of a state. She was wandering around the room, muttering something about French revolutions. Ginny seriously considered backing s-l-o-w-l-y out of the door and escaping, but Hermione turned around as she was about to exit.
“Oh, Ginny!” Hermione flung herself into Ginny’s arms, nearly knocking her over.
Ginny muttered some kind of consoling words into Hermione’s hair and she straightened up slightly.
“Well,” she said shakily, “let’s get this over with then.”
Harry arrived at The Burrow slightly late (fashionably so). He was slightly taken aback by Mrs. Weasley’s enthusiastic embrace, but favoured her with an indulgent smile all the same. He asked where he might find the groom-to-be. Molly Weasley sniffed happily as she informed Harry that Ron was behind the old oak tree in the garden.
Ron was practicing some sort of speech with Neville when Harry approached. He cocked a handsomely inquisitive eyebrow and waited for Ron to finish. When he had, Harry gave a discreet cough. Ron’s own rather bushy eyebrows shot upwards, and he turned to face his former best friend.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“Wouldn’t have missed this for anything,” Harry replied, smiling politely.
Ron looked as if he could have said more, but chose instead to hold out his hand. They shook hands in a grown up, reserved way, any old familiarity long gone. Maybe more could have been said or done, but neither was very inclined to be the one to cave in and admit they might have missed each other.
That being said, there was a wedding to be getting on with, and Ron was very preoccupied with sweating profusely and wringing his hands. He began babbling about muggle knights, and did not notice Harry slip away silently, to find a seat and to wait for this rather trying ordeal to be over.
The ceremony was truly beautiful, Ginny decided. Hermione looked beautiful and she watched from her side as Ron spoke about his love for the witch he was about to marry. Though his speech was a bit long-winded, and contained rather more about badgers than was strictly normal, it was touching, and heartfelt, and she could see that for all Hermione cared, it could have been a dirty limerick, because she was very happy, rather fond of badgers herself, and she was in love. Once the representative from the ministry had finished their rites, Ron and Hermione led the way to the makeshift dance floor, on the lawn where they used to play Quidditch as children.
Ginny wandered in her mother’s direction, her head full of happy thoughts. Unfortunately for her, she failed to notice anyone in her way until it was too late. Within seconds, she was on the floor in a rather untidy heap. Blindly, she took the hand that was offered to assist her. Brushing herself off, she looked up to see a pair of emerald eyes, flashing behind trademark glasses.
Harry, to be perfectly honest, was faintly bored by the service. Hermione appeared to be dressed in an oversized meringue and the red head, who had once known all of his secrets, and fears, was waffling on about badgers. The smartest witch in his year was smiling mushily. It would be mortifying to think of this pair as anything above old acquaintances.
So, instead of watching the ceremony, Harry surveyed the guests, hoping to find some attractive distant relative or other to make the day not a complete waste of time.
Looking around, he believed he had found the lucky witch. She was standing behind Hermione, so his view was partly obscured, but he was sure she was lovely. She had the long, flowing red Weasley hair, but it was darker than Ron’s, and fell in loose curls down her back. She was dressed in green, and Harry could see that she had long, lovely legs and a decent chest at that. It was decided, then. He would be taking that girl home tonight.
After the ceremony, Harry strolled casually over to where the girl was headed and stood in front of her, waiting for her to gasp when she realised that she was in the presence of The Great Harry Potter; Boy Who Lived to defeat the evil Lord Voldemort. Harry smiled modestly at the thought. No girl stood a chance in the face of his fame and glory. She would look up any second now.
The girl crashed straight into him, falling over in the process. Harry reassessed; a bit clumsy, perhaps, but she was still very attractive. He bent elegantly to help her up, and smirked slightly when he saw the amazement in her face.
“Harry Potter.”
“Yes, I’m an old friend of Ron’s, but I don’t believe we’ve met. How do you know the Weasleys? Distant relation?”
The look of astonishment vanished from the girl’s face.
“I don’t really think that is any of your business any more, Mr. Potter. Excuse me.”
Harry barely had time to mask a slight frown. He had never had that effect on women before. He wondered what kind of game the redhead was playing. Whatever it was, it didn’t really matter, though; he was sure he’d win. He always did.
Ginny Weasley Was Bristling With Rage and Indignation. She had not known Harry would be there, though she should probably picked up on her mother’s excitement in seeing “All the members of the Order together again, dear…” Ginny had not thought seriously about Harry Potter in over a year, though seeing his face everywhere was unavoidable. Obviously, he was not quite so modest now the papers were being complimentary…
But this was a wedding, she reminded herself, and she was not going to spoil it. Ginny plastered a charming smile on her face and stepped back out into the crowd of people surrounding the dancing area thing.
Remus Lupin and Mad Eye Moody were talking about new developments to the Wolfsbane potion when Harry approached them. Both Aurors looked startled at the interruption, but Lupin did his best to include Harry in their conversation.
Harry was not really in a mood to be lectured by old professors, and so as soon as it was possible, he found an excuse to change the subject. The mysterious girl in the green dress reappeared and Harry saw his Window of Opportunity.
“Remus, who’s the girl over there in the green dress?”
It was Moody who goggled. “It’s Ginny Weasley,” he answered gruffly. “Don’t you remember you own best friend’s sister??”
As Harry’s eyes widened, Moody shook his head. “No offence, Potter,” he growled, his voice dripping with unexpressed resentment, “but I don’t think you stand a chance there. Bit out of your league, don’t you think?”
Harry repressed the urge to glower fiercely at Moody. He always got what he wanted, and if he decided that he wanted Ginny Weasley again, the girl would be in his arms before the hour. In fact, he knew that Ginny had been madly in love with him. Ever since she’d laid eyes on him, actually. He would show Moody that no one was out of Harry Potter’s league.
Ginny jumped as someone put their hands on her shoulders. A low voice whispered in her ear,
“Didn’t you miss me at all, Ginny?”
She whirled around to face Harry, who was smiling ruefully down at her. Sighing, she removed the offending hands.
“What do you want, Potter?”
Harry did a very good impression of a Very Apologetic Person. Ginny was not convinced. She arched an eyebrow and turned away from him, striding purposely off to speak with Colin Creevey, who had joined the Order with her after Hogwarts.
This Ginny Weasley was certainly a far cry from the dirty, exhausted girl who had smiled happily at him after The War. He had avoided that girl as much as possible, and focused instead on the pretty ones. The girl standing just a few meters away, however, was stunning, easily surpassing the most attractive of his beloved groupies. As he watched her go to dance with Dean Thomas, her ex-boyfriend, Harry felt the return of a long-forgotten monster rearing its ugly head in the pit of his stomach. He thought back to its first appearance in his sixth year at Hogwarts, seeing her kiss Thomas. Since dating her himself, he had enjoyed her obvious adoration, so he kept her around, or so he told himself. Without Dumbledore there to twist him into the perfect moral hero, Harry had thrived on the worship of others, and since the War was over, he was never short of girls willing to adore him and help him to come to terms with his traumatic past.
Now, though, he decided, he would fight for what he deserved. After all, he had defeated the Dark and Evil Lord Voldemort. He deserved some kind of reward for all he had done. He would make Ginny see that, and he was sure she’d agree, given time to adjust her views accordingly. It would take a while, probably, longer than expected, but it would be worth it. His plan had to start now though. He headed purposefully towards the dance floor when Neville Longbottom stepped in front of him.
“Harry, I saw you staring at Ginny, and I think that you should go.”
Glaring ferociously at Neville, Harry sidestepped.
“Harry, as best man, you’ll only cause trouble if you do this. I don’t want to be the one to stop a fist fight breaking out.”
Repressing a snort of laughter, Harry drew himself up to his full height, only to find that the once short-and-pudgy Neville was a good two inches taller than him.
“Neville, I am very proud of you for finding your Gryffindor courage, but I’d like to try and sort this out on my own. What do you say?” Harry grinned with his very best hearty grin and made to step past Neville again.
“Harry, you don’t want to do that. Her boyfriend is even more protective of her than her brothers are, and it was him that she told she didn’t ever want you near her again.”
Feeling his little green friend roar in anger at the bottom of his stomach, he growled,
“Boyfriend?? And who has she seen fit to replace me with?”
“Turn around,” said Neville.
Author's notes: okay, I think you can guess who Ginny’s boyfriend is…
Also, I’m a bit sorry that I made Harry such a git, but I think he deserved it, really… PLEASE REVIEW
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