Time Challenge
Aibhinn's Time Challenge
Prompt: Nighttime, Harry/Ginny fic;
Mindless, really. A Harry/Ginny moment. With shoes. And an incredibly thick Harry, but then, he's always been incredibly thick.
PG, Humor/Romance, one-shot.
Some Ron/Hermione.
For ___eyesonfire, just because. And also 'cause she helped me so much with this.
“Has anyone seen my shoes?” Ginny called out irritably, digging under her bed to see if she could find her shoes. She could have sworn that she had placed them downstairs, but, as was evidenced by the fact that they weren’t there, she was searching all the possible places her shoes could have been, and even a few impossible places.
“Just Transfigure something,” Ron said, irritably, poking his head in her room. “You’re a witch. Use your wand or something.”
Ginny crawled out from under the bed and dusted herself off. “I don’t want my shoes to turn back into a box in the middle of the wedding,” she said, wryly. She motioned to the tie in his hand. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I need help with my tie,” Ron admitted sheepishly. “I almost strangled myself just a few moments ago, so Harry told me to go find you.”
Ginny’s nostrils flared slightly at her brother’s casual mention of Harry, but otherwise, she gave no indication that she was bothered in the least. “Here, I’ll help you,” she said, walking over to him.
“Thanks, Gin,” he said, evidently relieved. He peered out her window as Ginny was busy with his tie. “Why d’you think Charlie decided to get married at night?”
“Maybe dragons mate at night,” Ginny said, shrugging, as she finished up and straightened it. “It’s not that strange.”
Ron turned around to look at his reflection in her full length mirror. “Just wondering,” he said, and kissed his sister on the cheek. “Thanks. Go find your shoes.”
Ginny stamped her foot on the ground impatiently. “I was looking for my shoes when you came here looking pathetic. Besides, nobody’s helping me find it.”
“Accio it or something,” Ron suggested, turning around as he was tiring of his reflection and the appreciative whistles from her mirror.
“And whomp some unsuspecting guest on the head?” Ginny shook her head emphatically. “I’ll borrow someone else’s shoes if it comes to that.”
“Liar,” said a new voice, and they both turned around. “You already tried Accio-ing it, but it didn’t work.”
Ginny’s lips thinned, and she carefully averted her head, busying herself with looking for her shoes once more. Ron noticed that her hands were trembling slightly as she did so.
“Harry!” Ron said, cheerfully, trying to avoid disaster, although he was fairly sure that something dramatic would happen anyway. “What are you doing here?”
Harry’s green eyes faded a little as he realized that Ginny would not answer him. “Actually,” he said, a bit hesitantly, “I was hoping that Ginny could help me with my tie.” He held out the hand holding the green tie as evidence.
“Go find Hermione,” was Ginny’s brusque answer as she opened the door to her closet. “I still need my shoes.”
“If I find your shoes, does that mean that you’ll help me with my tie?”
Ginny whirled around quickly, her eyes narrowed. “You stole my shoes?” she hissed, advancing towards him.
“No,” Harry said, a bit too quickly, raising both of his hands in protest. “I just-”
“First you ignore me completely after you get here, then you steal my shoes?” Ginny made a noise in the back of her throat implying deep frustration. “Should I be worried for my underwear?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Harry frowned. “I ignored you?” he asked, and he could hear his own voice rising. “You didn’t even bother to meet me when I came back!”
“I was busy getting ready for the wedding, as you know,” Ginny shot back, her fingers itching for her wand so she could Bat-Bogey him into oblivion. “I was miles away at the time with the planner!”
“I wasn’t aware that Seamus Finnegan was the bloody wedding planner,” Harry snarled out, taking a step closer to her. They were closer than they had been since he had come back, and he couldn’t help but notice the familiar trail of freckles across her face.
“Seamus Finnegan?” she asked, feeling jolted. “What?”
“I saw you both,” Harry said accusingly, and his fists were clenched. “And you were talking to him and laughing.”
It was at this point that they realized that they were very much alone in the room. Ron Weasley had slipped out at one point during their verbal spar, and the door was closed.
Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “Then what about you and Gabrielle Delacour at Bill’s wedding?” She knew that it was ridiculous, and that she sounded like an incredibly jealous harpy, but the words flew out of her mouth before she had a chance to think about it.
Harry gaped at her. “That was-that was months ago-that wasn’t-”
“Just…just shut up,” she interrupted, not wanting to hear his stupid, fumbling excuses. She put up her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. She had never been really able to shake the feeling that Harry had broken up with her because he honestly had not been interested in her anymore. She certainly didn’t want to hear a blow by blow account of how they weren’t right for each other, and how he needed his freedom.
“Wait…Ginny,” Harry said, pleadingly, putting his hand on her upper arm as she turned away from him. “I know you don’t like me anymore, but couldn’t you just listen to what I have to say?”
Her eyebrows rushed down in a frown, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “The last thing I need is a mockery of my feelings,” Ginny said, tiredly. “Just say it.”
Harry began fumbling with his words, and he dropped his head, unable to meet her gaze.
Ginny hated herself, because no matter how many times she told herself that Harry was bad for her, she always ended up unable to help the sudden tugging at her heartstrings.
“Why do you like Finnegan?”
She blinked.
Harry looked furious with himself. “Wait, that wasn’t what I meant-”
Ginny couldn’t help the half sob of frustration from escaping her mouth. Harry was right there, they were closer than they had been for the longest time, and he was demanding to know who she liked.
“Ginny,” he said, weakly.
“Just shut up,” she said. She breathed out deeply and stepped closer to him. “Give me your tie,” she said, flatly.
She had originally thought that if she could just finish, she could shove him out of the room so she wouldn’t have to be in his agonizing presence any longer. But when she leaned in to him, she could smell the light cologne that he had worn for the occasion.
“You don’t smell like yourself,” she heard herself murmuring, and she could see Harry turning pink (although it could have been because she was partly strangling him with his tie as retribution).
“What do I usually smell like?” he asked, putting his hands on hers to still her from working on his tie any longer.
Ginny tilted her head and dreamily smiled. “Like grass. Pines. Like you’ve just come back from flying outside.” It was amazing how her anger could just melt in his presence.
Harry was staring at her as if he couldn’t take his eyes off her. “You remember?”
She tugged on his tie. “No, I’m making it up. What do you think?”
“So you still like me?”
Ginny stared at him, incredulous. Her cheeks blotched momentarily, but Harry saw it in time and before she had a chance to berate him, he pulled her to him roughly and kissed her.
Ron and Hermione’s ears were pressed to the door.
“I don’t hear any glass breaking,” Hermione said, cautiously.
“And they’re not yelling at each other anymore,” Ron said, inwardly wondering if what they were doing in the room was all that appropriate.
Hermione pulled a pair of sandals out of her pocket and laid them by the door. “I really don’t want to interrupt them,” she said, uncertainly. “I’m sure she’ll see these here.”
Ron snorted. “If they come out at all.”
Hermione looked scandalized. “But… the wedding! And-”
“It’s nighttime. And there’s a full moon.”
“But-”
Ron grinned at her. “And I can think of a few things we could be doing right now instead of talking about Harry and Ginny.”
“Wha-mmrmph…”
A/N: Yeah, it sort of falls off at the end, but I like it. It's cute. And it's my first fluff in months.
Prompt: Nighttime, Harry/Ginny fic;
Mindless, really. A Harry/Ginny moment. With shoes. And an incredibly thick Harry, but then, he's always been incredibly thick.
PG, Humor/Romance, one-shot.
Some Ron/Hermione.
For ___eyesonfire, just because. And also 'cause she helped me so much with this.
“Has anyone seen my shoes?” Ginny called out irritably, digging under her bed to see if she could find her shoes. She could have sworn that she had placed them downstairs, but, as was evidenced by the fact that they weren’t there, she was searching all the possible places her shoes could have been, and even a few impossible places.
“Just Transfigure something,” Ron said, irritably, poking his head in her room. “You’re a witch. Use your wand or something.”
Ginny crawled out from under the bed and dusted herself off. “I don’t want my shoes to turn back into a box in the middle of the wedding,” she said, wryly. She motioned to the tie in his hand. “What on earth are you doing here?”
“I need help with my tie,” Ron admitted sheepishly. “I almost strangled myself just a few moments ago, so Harry told me to go find you.”
Ginny’s nostrils flared slightly at her brother’s casual mention of Harry, but otherwise, she gave no indication that she was bothered in the least. “Here, I’ll help you,” she said, walking over to him.
“Thanks, Gin,” he said, evidently relieved. He peered out her window as Ginny was busy with his tie. “Why d’you think Charlie decided to get married at night?”
“Maybe dragons mate at night,” Ginny said, shrugging, as she finished up and straightened it. “It’s not that strange.”
Ron turned around to look at his reflection in her full length mirror. “Just wondering,” he said, and kissed his sister on the cheek. “Thanks. Go find your shoes.”
Ginny stamped her foot on the ground impatiently. “I was looking for my shoes when you came here looking pathetic. Besides, nobody’s helping me find it.”
“Accio it or something,” Ron suggested, turning around as he was tiring of his reflection and the appreciative whistles from her mirror.
“And whomp some unsuspecting guest on the head?” Ginny shook her head emphatically. “I’ll borrow someone else’s shoes if it comes to that.”
“Liar,” said a new voice, and they both turned around. “You already tried Accio-ing it, but it didn’t work.”
Ginny’s lips thinned, and she carefully averted her head, busying herself with looking for her shoes once more. Ron noticed that her hands were trembling slightly as she did so.
“Harry!” Ron said, cheerfully, trying to avoid disaster, although he was fairly sure that something dramatic would happen anyway. “What are you doing here?”
Harry’s green eyes faded a little as he realized that Ginny would not answer him. “Actually,” he said, a bit hesitantly, “I was hoping that Ginny could help me with my tie.” He held out the hand holding the green tie as evidence.
“Go find Hermione,” was Ginny’s brusque answer as she opened the door to her closet. “I still need my shoes.”
“If I find your shoes, does that mean that you’ll help me with my tie?”
Ginny whirled around quickly, her eyes narrowed. “You stole my shoes?” she hissed, advancing towards him.
“No,” Harry said, a bit too quickly, raising both of his hands in protest. “I just-”
“First you ignore me completely after you get here, then you steal my shoes?” Ginny made a noise in the back of her throat implying deep frustration. “Should I be worried for my underwear?” she asked, her voice dripping with sarcasm.
Harry frowned. “I ignored you?” he asked, and he could hear his own voice rising. “You didn’t even bother to meet me when I came back!”
“I was busy getting ready for the wedding, as you know,” Ginny shot back, her fingers itching for her wand so she could Bat-Bogey him into oblivion. “I was miles away at the time with the planner!”
“I wasn’t aware that Seamus Finnegan was the bloody wedding planner,” Harry snarled out, taking a step closer to her. They were closer than they had been since he had come back, and he couldn’t help but notice the familiar trail of freckles across her face.
“Seamus Finnegan?” she asked, feeling jolted. “What?”
“I saw you both,” Harry said accusingly, and his fists were clenched. “And you were talking to him and laughing.”
It was at this point that they realized that they were very much alone in the room. Ron Weasley had slipped out at one point during their verbal spar, and the door was closed.
Ginny’s eyes narrowed. “Then what about you and Gabrielle Delacour at Bill’s wedding?” She knew that it was ridiculous, and that she sounded like an incredibly jealous harpy, but the words flew out of her mouth before she had a chance to think about it.
Harry gaped at her. “That was-that was months ago-that wasn’t-”
“Just…just shut up,” she interrupted, not wanting to hear his stupid, fumbling excuses. She put up her hand to pinch the bridge of her nose. She had never been really able to shake the feeling that Harry had broken up with her because he honestly had not been interested in her anymore. She certainly didn’t want to hear a blow by blow account of how they weren’t right for each other, and how he needed his freedom.
“Wait…Ginny,” Harry said, pleadingly, putting his hand on her upper arm as she turned away from him. “I know you don’t like me anymore, but couldn’t you just listen to what I have to say?”
Her eyebrows rushed down in a frown, and she crossed her arms over her chest. “The last thing I need is a mockery of my feelings,” Ginny said, tiredly. “Just say it.”
Harry began fumbling with his words, and he dropped his head, unable to meet her gaze.
Ginny hated herself, because no matter how many times she told herself that Harry was bad for her, she always ended up unable to help the sudden tugging at her heartstrings.
“Why do you like Finnegan?”
She blinked.
Harry looked furious with himself. “Wait, that wasn’t what I meant-”
Ginny couldn’t help the half sob of frustration from escaping her mouth. Harry was right there, they were closer than they had been for the longest time, and he was demanding to know who she liked.
“Ginny,” he said, weakly.
“Just shut up,” she said. She breathed out deeply and stepped closer to him. “Give me your tie,” she said, flatly.
She had originally thought that if she could just finish, she could shove him out of the room so she wouldn’t have to be in his agonizing presence any longer. But when she leaned in to him, she could smell the light cologne that he had worn for the occasion.
“You don’t smell like yourself,” she heard herself murmuring, and she could see Harry turning pink (although it could have been because she was partly strangling him with his tie as retribution).
“What do I usually smell like?” he asked, putting his hands on hers to still her from working on his tie any longer.
Ginny tilted her head and dreamily smiled. “Like grass. Pines. Like you’ve just come back from flying outside.” It was amazing how her anger could just melt in his presence.
Harry was staring at her as if he couldn’t take his eyes off her. “You remember?”
She tugged on his tie. “No, I’m making it up. What do you think?”
“So you still like me?”
Ginny stared at him, incredulous. Her cheeks blotched momentarily, but Harry saw it in time and before she had a chance to berate him, he pulled her to him roughly and kissed her.
Ron and Hermione’s ears were pressed to the door.
“I don’t hear any glass breaking,” Hermione said, cautiously.
“And they’re not yelling at each other anymore,” Ron said, inwardly wondering if what they were doing in the room was all that appropriate.
Hermione pulled a pair of sandals out of her pocket and laid them by the door. “I really don’t want to interrupt them,” she said, uncertainly. “I’m sure she’ll see these here.”
Ron snorted. “If they come out at all.”
Hermione looked scandalized. “But… the wedding! And-”
“It’s nighttime. And there’s a full moon.”
“But-”
Ron grinned at her. “And I can think of a few things we could be doing right now instead of talking about Harry and Ginny.”
“Wha-mmrmph…”
A/N: Yeah, it sort of falls off at the end, but I like it. It's cute. And it's my first fluff in months.