“So how was it?” Hermione asked eagerly.
She was seated across from Ginny on a squashy couch in her and Ron’s living room, rubbing her belly and watching her sister-in-law intently.
“It was…” Ginny smiled, looking down at the floor. Her hair, which was straight and silky that day, swung in front of her eyes. “It was really, really good.”
“I knew it!” said Hermione triumphantly. “I knew I saw something there. Aren’t you glad I helped get you two together? Aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am, but I would appreciate if next time you tell me before you give out personal information to and set up dates with random warlocks.”
“Oh, come on. If I had told you who I was setting you up with, you would have stayed in those hideous pajamas and read one of your filthy books all night long instead of having the best first date ever, thanks to me. You are the most stubborn person I know.”
Ginny opened her mouth to argue, and then shut and it nodded with agreeable consent.
“Yes, I am.”
Hermione laughed and shook her head.
“You weird little Weasley. Shall we go for a walk? I need to pick up a few things from the Apothecary.”
They apparated from Ron and Hermione’s spacious flat to the Leaky Cauldron, where they chatted with Tom the bartender for a few minutes before proceeding into Diagon Alley. It was a pleasantly warm summer afternoon and Diagon Alley was immensely crowded. Ginny and Hermione strolled around, chatting and looking into shop windows. They stepped into the Apothecary, where Hermione bought a few things, and Ginny mused at how incredibly bad it smelled.
After they exited the Apothecary, they stood and marveled at an array of new witches’ dress robes. It was there that Hermione spotted a tall head of familiar red hair bobbing a foot higher than the rest of the crowd and shouted, “Ron! Ron! Over here!”
Ron saw them and waved. He began walking toward them, barging through dozens of people to get to where they were standing.
“Hullo!” he greeted them cheerfully, giving Hermione a kiss on the lips and beaming at Ginny. “What are you two doing here? Ginny, how was your date? I was part of the committee, you know. Oh, yes, directly approached by Draco Malfoy himself.”
But she trailed off as she caught sight of who had been following closely behind Ron.
Ginny had not set eyes upon Harry Potter since the previous Christmas at the Burrow, which had been the first Christmas in nearly seven years which they had not spent as a couple. It had been only three months prior to Christmas of that year that Ginny had discovered Tamara, her alleged best friend, in bed with Harry, her fiancée. It had been the worst, most awkward Christmas of Ginny’s life, and since then Ginny had keenly avoided Harry. He had not changed much; his messy, jet-black hair was a little shorter and his skin was a bit darker, perhaps from vacationing with that extremely good-looking witch Ginny always saw him with in the tabloids.
“Hello, Ginny,” said Harry.
Ginny just stared at him.
“How… how have you been?” asked Harry unsurely. When she did not answer, he tried again. “So… Draco Malfoy, huh?”
There was something mocking in his tone; something malicious glinting in his emerald green eyes. Ginny knew this look very well. Harry had adapted it every time he set eyes upon things that he was sure to ridicule.
“Don’t you dare,” she said dangerously.
“Mixing with a Malfoy, that’s a good one,” said Harry flatly. “Way to get back at me, Gin.”
“Get back at you?!”
“Oh, come on. You wouldn’t go out with someone like him unless you were trying to get back at me. You need to get over me, Ginny.”
“I AM ‘over you’,” Ginny shot back. The hurt inside her was immediately replaced with red-hot, blazing anger. “I was ‘over you’ the moment I saw you in bed WITH MY BEST FRIEND!”
Harry laughed uncomfortably and started to say something but Ginny would not permit it.
“No, shut the fuck up! You think you can treat me like I’m one of your pathetic groupies? We dated for EIGHT YEARS! That said and done, I have absolutely no fucking feelings left for you, because doing something that horrible to the person that you supposedly loved more than anything made me realize that I didn’t know you at all after all. You think you’re so great because you have a scar on your stupid face and the wizarding world at your smelly feet. Yeah, I said it. Your feet STINK. So guess what, Mr. Big-Shot-War-Hero?”
“What?!” Harry demanded, his face red. People walking by had quieted to hear their argument.
Ginny grabbed a bag of beetle eyes, opened the bag, and held it up to spill all over Harry.
“THIS! Now, fuck off, you fucking asshole.”
And she marched away, not noticing a middle-aged woman with long, red nails and a Quick Quotes Quill excitedly scribbling down everything from a small distance…
Author notes: Yeah so. If you could review or anything that'd be great. I know I'm one of those desperate people who BEG for reviews, but come on now. I only got one review for the last two chapters, which took me like half a year to write. (And, okay, that is probably because I am a huge procrastinating couch potatoe, but STILL.)
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Okay. I'm done.
Chapter Eight comin' soon!
To Be Continued.
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