(no subject)
Who: George & Ginny
What: Confrontation Time, though it goes better than George and Fred's did.
When: Monday afteroon
Where: Gryffindor common room
Ginny headed into the mostly deserted common room. She'd had a slight argument with Ron earlier, who seemed to genuinely want to kick their brother off the team, and it had put her in a mood. So this wasn't the best time to run into George, who was lounging by the fire, but she wasn't ready to go up to her dorm yet. So she took the farthest chair away from him possible while still being by the fire, curling up in it.
George was supposed to be finishing up an essay, but it was for charms and, really, Fred was the one who always aced charms while George sort of dawdled until something interesting happened, so the essay was going very, very slowly. He shifted in his chair, trying not to glance at Ginny. It was sort of hard, actually, not to glare at her. She'd been, what, the third signature on the list? It didn't bode well for sibling relations.
This essay was going nowhere. George scowled and tucked his quill into his robe, then tossed the parchment into the fire and slumped.
Ginny stared at the fire, still trying to ignore George. She knew he was angry with her, and probably rightly so, but she wasn't sorry she'd done it. Even if her brother wasn't speaking to her, and Angelina looked ready to kill her everytime she saw her in the hall or common room.
The paper going into the fire startled her, and she involuntarily glanced over at George. "That was a waste of parchment," she commented before looking back to the fire.
"Who bloody cares?" George grumbled, leaning over the side of the chair so he could grab a fresh piece of parchment from his bag. He seemed fresh out, though, and made a face. Well, now he cared. "You got another piece?"
"My bag's up in my room," she told him, quite truthfully, and didn't move to get up. He wasn't going to use it right now, anyway, if his state of mind was any indication.
"Cripes." George scowled and slumped back into his chair. "See what good you are, then."
Ginny rolled her eyes, still not looking towards him. "You weren't going to use it right now, anyway."
"Hmph." George scowled and reached out with one foot, toeing a brick on the fireplace. Stupid fireplace. Stupid parchment. Stupid Ginny.
He was just irritating her now; there was no reason to be so moody over a lousy piece of parchment. "Stop sulking, would you?" she told him, giving him an annoyed look.
George shot a glance her way and made a face. "Whatever, Ginny."
Ginny kept the annoyed look trained on him. "What, so now you're not going to speak to me?"
"I'm speaking, aren't I?" He toed the fireplace again. "Unlike some people in our family, I go around talking to people when I get buggered instead of going behind their backs and putting up petitions."
"You bloody well blew me off when I tried to talk to you and Angelina about your attitude," Ginny retorted, glaring at him. "It wasn't my idea, but it's the only thing that's gotten your attention in weeks."
"Pfft. Shows what you know." He'd paid attention to other things. Like... Er... Well, all right. Angelina had been occupying the bulk of his attention span, but who could blame him? She was pretty. Because it was something to do, he took off his shoe, dug out his wand, and started playing with some horrible charms. Might as well get the practical in before he had to write the damned essay. "Not like you'd know how it is. You can't even get a bloke."
Ginny rolled her eyes. She was fourteen, she was still at the stage where she'd hold hands with a boyfriend and maybe kiss him. It was a bad insult. "You know I'm right if that's the best you can come up with. I'm fourteen; I'm not old enough yet to start moaning that I can't get a boyfriend." She leaned forward, staring sternly at her brother. "Do you want to know why I signed that petition?"
"Because Fred's git-ness is rubbing off on you?" The shoe twitched and George arched an eyebrow at it. The shoe wasn't supposed to twitch.
Ginny wasn't sure what he was doing with the shoe, but she ignored it for now. After all, it wasn't attacking her, yet. "Because the way you two are acting is genuinely affecting the team, and all you two would do is accuse us of being prejudiced. I may not be thrilled that you two are dating, but if it wasn't affecting our team, I wouldn't be doing this."
George made a face. "Right," he said. "Ever so sorry I've found a life outside of quidditch." The shoe twitched again and he rapped it with his wand. Bloody stubborn shoe.
Ginny was tempted to throw something at him or possibly hex him. She was going to have to depend on Angelina to see the point of the petition, and she wasn't betting on that, though maybe she'd try to be more 'fair' to prove she wasn't favoring George. That'd be fine by Ginny. If only George would take that attitude. "You think I like doing this to my own brother, even if he has become an ass since he started dating? You refuse to see that you're treating everyone differently, not just Angelina. You're supposed to treat Angelina differently now that you're dating, but the way you're acting towards everyone else is ridiculous. On and off th field, but on the field it's dangerous."
"S'not that dangerous," George grumbled.
"See what I mean? You've always joked about the dangers of Quidditch, but you never would have ignored an injury before this. You act like nothing's happened. You've injured four players on your own, on our side, and you act like it's a minor issue!" Ginny shook her head at him, looking more unhappy than angry now. "When did hurting people stop mattering to you?"
"It still matters!" George scowled, looking up at Ginny. "Merlin, Gin, give me a break! I know it's rubbish, all right? Quidditch just stopped being altogether important is all. It's hard to keep your head in the game when you don't bloody care about the game. Cripes."
At least they were being serious now. Ginny got to her feet, moving over to sit next to George. "George, if you don't care about the game anymore, that's fine... People change and grow up. But you can't ignore the game while you're in it; that's why people are getting hurt. You've got to either find a way to concentrate during the games and practice, or give it up on your own."
George frowned and, after a brief silence, prodded Ginny's side with his wand. "You're suddenly acting like Mum," he said. "It's suspicious and weird." He offered up a smile. "Kind of nice not getting glared and snapped at, though. Good on you." He tried one last thing with the shoe and, when nothing worked, sighed and tossed it over his shoulder. He'd deal with that later. "Right, right. I'll work it out."
Ginny rolled her eyes before giving him a wry grin. "I'm getting older; comes with the territory. Besides, one of us has to take after Mum." She certainly had her mother's temper on her; she just wasn't as genteel about expressing it as her mother could be. "Good. You and Angelina talk it over." She leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. "I don't want you off, you know. You're a bloody good beater. I just wanted to get through to you."
"Did it in the worst way possible for my mental well-being, mind, but I guess it worked." He shrugged. "Just do me a favor and box Ron one. He'll just get all nasty if I do it myself."
Ginny chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'll take care of Ron. I don't know what the chip on his shoulder is, but we'll get it taken care of."
"It's Davis," George said, shrugging and getting to his feet. He tugged on a bit of Ginny's hair. "'nyway. I've got to get my essay done, so I guess I'll steal some parchment from Fre... From Angie. She's bound to have extra meters." He stretched. "Later, Gin."
George probably had it right on that account. She nodded, making herself comfortable as she laned back. "See you later."
George offered her one last wave before he went off to track down Angelina.
What: Confrontation Time, though it goes better than George and Fred's did.
When: Monday afteroon
Where: Gryffindor common room
Ginny headed into the mostly deserted common room. She'd had a slight argument with Ron earlier, who seemed to genuinely want to kick their brother off the team, and it had put her in a mood. So this wasn't the best time to run into George, who was lounging by the fire, but she wasn't ready to go up to her dorm yet. So she took the farthest chair away from him possible while still being by the fire, curling up in it.
George was supposed to be finishing up an essay, but it was for charms and, really, Fred was the one who always aced charms while George sort of dawdled until something interesting happened, so the essay was going very, very slowly. He shifted in his chair, trying not to glance at Ginny. It was sort of hard, actually, not to glare at her. She'd been, what, the third signature on the list? It didn't bode well for sibling relations.
This essay was going nowhere. George scowled and tucked his quill into his robe, then tossed the parchment into the fire and slumped.
Ginny stared at the fire, still trying to ignore George. She knew he was angry with her, and probably rightly so, but she wasn't sorry she'd done it. Even if her brother wasn't speaking to her, and Angelina looked ready to kill her everytime she saw her in the hall or common room.
The paper going into the fire startled her, and she involuntarily glanced over at George. "That was a waste of parchment," she commented before looking back to the fire.
"Who bloody cares?" George grumbled, leaning over the side of the chair so he could grab a fresh piece of parchment from his bag. He seemed fresh out, though, and made a face. Well, now he cared. "You got another piece?"
"My bag's up in my room," she told him, quite truthfully, and didn't move to get up. He wasn't going to use it right now, anyway, if his state of mind was any indication.
"Cripes." George scowled and slumped back into his chair. "See what good you are, then."
Ginny rolled her eyes, still not looking towards him. "You weren't going to use it right now, anyway."
"Hmph." George scowled and reached out with one foot, toeing a brick on the fireplace. Stupid fireplace. Stupid parchment. Stupid Ginny.
He was just irritating her now; there was no reason to be so moody over a lousy piece of parchment. "Stop sulking, would you?" she told him, giving him an annoyed look.
George shot a glance her way and made a face. "Whatever, Ginny."
Ginny kept the annoyed look trained on him. "What, so now you're not going to speak to me?"
"I'm speaking, aren't I?" He toed the fireplace again. "Unlike some people in our family, I go around talking to people when I get buggered instead of going behind their backs and putting up petitions."
"You bloody well blew me off when I tried to talk to you and Angelina about your attitude," Ginny retorted, glaring at him. "It wasn't my idea, but it's the only thing that's gotten your attention in weeks."
"Pfft. Shows what you know." He'd paid attention to other things. Like... Er... Well, all right. Angelina had been occupying the bulk of his attention span, but who could blame him? She was pretty. Because it was something to do, he took off his shoe, dug out his wand, and started playing with some horrible charms. Might as well get the practical in before he had to write the damned essay. "Not like you'd know how it is. You can't even get a bloke."
Ginny rolled her eyes. She was fourteen, she was still at the stage where she'd hold hands with a boyfriend and maybe kiss him. It was a bad insult. "You know I'm right if that's the best you can come up with. I'm fourteen; I'm not old enough yet to start moaning that I can't get a boyfriend." She leaned forward, staring sternly at her brother. "Do you want to know why I signed that petition?"
"Because Fred's git-ness is rubbing off on you?" The shoe twitched and George arched an eyebrow at it. The shoe wasn't supposed to twitch.
Ginny wasn't sure what he was doing with the shoe, but she ignored it for now. After all, it wasn't attacking her, yet. "Because the way you two are acting is genuinely affecting the team, and all you two would do is accuse us of being prejudiced. I may not be thrilled that you two are dating, but if it wasn't affecting our team, I wouldn't be doing this."
George made a face. "Right," he said. "Ever so sorry I've found a life outside of quidditch." The shoe twitched again and he rapped it with his wand. Bloody stubborn shoe.
Ginny was tempted to throw something at him or possibly hex him. She was going to have to depend on Angelina to see the point of the petition, and she wasn't betting on that, though maybe she'd try to be more 'fair' to prove she wasn't favoring George. That'd be fine by Ginny. If only George would take that attitude. "You think I like doing this to my own brother, even if he has become an ass since he started dating? You refuse to see that you're treating everyone differently, not just Angelina. You're supposed to treat Angelina differently now that you're dating, but the way you're acting towards everyone else is ridiculous. On and off th field, but on the field it's dangerous."
"S'not that dangerous," George grumbled.
"See what I mean? You've always joked about the dangers of Quidditch, but you never would have ignored an injury before this. You act like nothing's happened. You've injured four players on your own, on our side, and you act like it's a minor issue!" Ginny shook her head at him, looking more unhappy than angry now. "When did hurting people stop mattering to you?"
"It still matters!" George scowled, looking up at Ginny. "Merlin, Gin, give me a break! I know it's rubbish, all right? Quidditch just stopped being altogether important is all. It's hard to keep your head in the game when you don't bloody care about the game. Cripes."
At least they were being serious now. Ginny got to her feet, moving over to sit next to George. "George, if you don't care about the game anymore, that's fine... People change and grow up. But you can't ignore the game while you're in it; that's why people are getting hurt. You've got to either find a way to concentrate during the games and practice, or give it up on your own."
George frowned and, after a brief silence, prodded Ginny's side with his wand. "You're suddenly acting like Mum," he said. "It's suspicious and weird." He offered up a smile. "Kind of nice not getting glared and snapped at, though. Good on you." He tried one last thing with the shoe and, when nothing worked, sighed and tossed it over his shoulder. He'd deal with that later. "Right, right. I'll work it out."
Ginny rolled her eyes before giving him a wry grin. "I'm getting older; comes with the territory. Besides, one of us has to take after Mum." She certainly had her mother's temper on her; she just wasn't as genteel about expressing it as her mother could be. "Good. You and Angelina talk it over." She leaned up to give him a kiss on the cheek. "I don't want you off, you know. You're a bloody good beater. I just wanted to get through to you."
"Did it in the worst way possible for my mental well-being, mind, but I guess it worked." He shrugged. "Just do me a favor and box Ron one. He'll just get all nasty if I do it myself."
Ginny chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'll take care of Ron. I don't know what the chip on his shoulder is, but we'll get it taken care of."
"It's Davis," George said, shrugging and getting to his feet. He tugged on a bit of Ginny's hair. "'nyway. I've got to get my essay done, so I guess I'll steal some parchment from Fre... From Angie. She's bound to have extra meters." He stretched. "Later, Gin."
George probably had it right on that account. She nodded, making herself comfortable as she laned back. "See you later."
George offered her one last wave before he went off to track down Angelina.