Sorry this is late again, but whatever. Eeenjoy
The formidable figure steepled his fingers. "And what are we in for today, eh?"
"Brawling, sir," Ginny spoke up, since Harry and Draco were too busy sending each other the stare of Death to actually make intelligent sounds.
"Brawling?" Dumbledore repeated with questioning eyes. "Over what?"
"He," Harry said heatedly, jabbing a finger at Draco, "was touching her- her..."
"Bubbies?" Draco suggested.
"And why were you doing such a thing, Mr. Malfoy?"
"Visual aide," he said promptly. "Of course, I thought Weasley slapping me was retribution enough, but Potter had to haul off on his white horse and punch me. Then I, I, the falsely accused, didn't even get to beat the living snot out of him."
"You were groping her, for Pung's sake!" Harry flashed.
"Potter's just jealous," Draco said loftily. "He wants to touch her bubbies, too."
"He does not," Ginny snapped. "You're the only one going around publicly assaulting girls in this room."
"I'm the only one with the guts to follow my impulses."
"We were refer to them as base instincts, Mr. Malfoy, and you ought to restrain them from here on," Dumbledore said primly. "Twenty points from both your houses."
The three goggled at him.
"No detention?" Harry said in disbelief.
"No detention," he confirmed. "Go to class before I change my mind."
The thoughts floating first and foremost in her mind as she walked to the classrooms were about the boy walking with her. He was taller than her now, but only by a few inches. He needed a hair cut badly and possibly some hair gel.
The thoughts directly behind those of Harry were large bursts of prostaglandins.
Headache.
Ugh.
"Thank you," she spoke up.
Harry didn't even break stride. "You're welcome."
Huh. Ginny wrinkled her nose. "Just a question for you."
"Sure."
"What possessed you?"
"You're my best friend's sister. Duh."
Duh? Narrowing her eyes, she let the fire in them smolder. "So you'd beat up Malfoy if he pinched George's butt?"
"'Course not," replied the baffled boy. "George can take care of himself."
"And I can't?"
He stopped as if the social pitfall had been physical. "I'm not.. just that-"
"You think I'm a wuss?" she said dangerously.
"It was a chivalry thing," he said lamely. Hope sparked in his eyes. "You know? Defending your honor, all that?"
Ginny shoved him against the wall. "I am not a weak little female!"
"Er-"
She yanked him by the collar of his robe down to eye level and kissed him. Hard.
"There," she said in disgust. "Go beat yourself up."
"Ginny," he called helplessly as she stalked down the hall. He leaned against the wall and slid down to the floor. "Shit," he sighed, shaking his head.
The Gryffindor common room reeked of awkwardness. Or maybe it was all in her head.
It didn't help that Fred and George were mysteriously absent.
Colin plopped down beside Ginny. "Remember that one time when I ate an entire newt?"
"Shut up, Colin," she said wearily.
"And then I threw it up all over Seamus?"
"Shut up, Colin."
"And he started spouting Irish curses at me?"
"Shut up, Colin!" she snapped louder.
"I didn't do anything," Colin said injuredly. "Sometimes you hurt my feelings, and-"
"Colin," she interrupted brightly, "Harry was just saying today how he'd love to have a picture of his Firebolt."
"Oh, really?" Colin's eyes lit up. "Too cool. I've got to talk to him."
Satisfied, Ginny leaned back in her chair. Serves him right, she thought smugly.
She grimaced.
Headache.
Briefly she considered seeking medical treatment, but bed sounded a more reasonable option.
She rose, bade goodnight to her brothers and Hermione, and tried not to laugh as Colin glomped onto Harry.
That right there, she decided, saved an otherwise miserable day.
With every step up the stairs, her head throbbed. My toes are ugly, she thought irrationally. The same ugly toes as every other Weasley. Except they probably look attractive on the boys. But me? Absolutely dumpy. She tugged down her robes, raced up another few steps, and rested at the platform.
She sighed in relief. Quiet- a modern marvel. Just a small break here, then she could take the next flight.
"That was cruel," accused a voice, effectively compromising her tranquility.
"You deserved it," she replied sourly. Male chauvinist pig.
"I very much doubt that."
She turned and fixed her gaze on him. "Have you come to apologize, then?"
Harry uncomfortably fidgeted. "If I knew what for, perhaps."
"For not having the decency to regard me as a person," she scowled.
"I think you're overreacting," he began, moving up to join her on the platform.
"Overreacting?" she screeched. "I've had a crush on you since first year, you still delegate me in the same category as Ron's damn owl, and I'm overreacting?"
"No matter how fond of Pig I may be," he said patiently, "I do not make a habit of battling people who pluck his feathers."
Ginny blinked, then a smile slowly formed. "That," she purred, "is exactly the apology I was looking for."
He was taken aback. "I didn't even say I was sorry."
"That's okay." Ginny patted the ground next to her. "Sit down."
Dubiously, he complied. "Er... about earlier?" He looked totally perplexed.
Ginny drew in a measured breath and searched for the right words. "Earlier... Well, I was a) trying to prove a point and b) trying to piss you off. But I think I only succeeded in confusing you."
"Bingo," he said, staring intensely at his boots. "I am confused. I wasn't expecting that at all. I guess it's because you're practically my little sister."
"I'm not your little sister, Harry," she said with more calm than she felt. "Which was another purpose of earlier activities. But I'm not sitting her begging. If you'd prefer me not to kiss you, Dean Thomas would happily take your place." She let that sink in.
"You wouldn't, really. You're just trying to spite me," he said with a lopsided grin. "Which is more than you would have done a year ago. May I say your newly developed spine is quite fetching?"
"I thank you for the compliment," she said sweetly, "but I doubt it's my spine that's been giving you perception issues."
Briefly he choked and laughter bubbled up behind it. "I don't know," he said, still laughing, "I've always been a sucker for strong vertebrae."
"I'll be sure to sustain them by drinking plenty of milk," she replied with mock solemnity.
Harry grinned again. "My aunt was a chiropractor."
"No, she wasn't," Ginny said, giving him a weird look.
"Well, not really," he conceded. "But 'chiropractor' is so fun to say."
She laughed and ruffled his hair. "Crackpot."
Hesitation flickered around his face. A few moments passed in silence, then his lips brushed over hers.
The kiss was markedly different than her previous experiences. Malfoy's had been frantic and she had felt possessed. The one earlier in the day had been born of anger on her part. This one, though, was everything her first kiss should have been- innocence, peaches and cream, and overloaded saccharine.
It went downhill from there.
I am depraved, she decided with delight.
Their arms with fairly entangled around each other when Ron and Hermione came along.
"Hey, Harry," Ron said cheerfully. He opened his mouth to continue, but it clamped shut as he caught sight of his sister. "Hello, Ginny," he said with a growl.
"Well, hullo Ron, Hermione," Ginny piped up. She made no move away from Harry.
"Hullo, yourself," Ron snapped. "What the hell are you doing?"
"None of your business?" she suggested.
"God, Harry," he spat, already shifting his focus. "You're supposed to be my best friend!"
Harry threw a "help-me" look at Hermione, but her face was just as incensed. "Listen, Ron-"
"Listen what? You're taking advantage of my baby sister!"
"You weren't so concerned when Dean was drooling down her shirt earlier," Harry said darkly.
"Dean's tongue wasn't in her mouth, now was it?" Ron shot back. "Of course guys are going to look at her- I can't do anything about that. But I will not deal with my best friend engaging in tonsil hockey with her!"
"Tonsil hockey?" said George's voice out of nowhere.
"We're game," said Fred's. "Who's playing?"
"Harry and Ginny," Hermione informed them with distaste.
"You're gay," Fred said to his twin.
"You're incestuous," George said pointedly.
"Where have you been?" demanded Ginny.
"Storming through a party like our name was El Niņo," Fred said grandly.
"Demonstrating a new product," George translated. "We stole the show."
"What's wrong with your hair?" Harry inquired.
There was definitely something afoot. Usually the twins' hair was similar in cut and style, but not today. George's hair was furiously curly. So curly, in fact, it bordered on being an afro. Fred's hair closely resembled a porcupine, spiking up in every direction.
"All part of our new invention. Today's hairstyles are high maintenance. Our new pill will automatically reset your hair in a certain configuration," George explained. He pointed to his curls. "This is the PopStar variety."
"And this is called PunkStar," Fred said with satisfaction.
"How come you still have your hair like that, then?" Ginny asked.
"we haven't figured out how to make it normal yet," Fred said sheepishly.
"But it's a marvelous invention," George pressed on. "Why, just imagine- you two could fool around in the linen closet, pop a pill, and not have mussed hair!"
"You two are supporting this travesty?" Ron scoffed.
"Harry's a good guy," Fred shrugged.
"If he screws up, we just accidentally thwap him on the Quidditch field," George added.
The words were a reminiscent of Ron's dismissal of Dean's attentions.
"You're all idiots," Ginny declared. "I'm going to bed." She stomped up the stairs and slammed the door behind her. She mutter some choice words while scavenging for pajamas.
And then she realized her headache had gone away.
She spent twenty minutes burrowed under the covers. She tried all the usual things- counting sheep, reciting the unit circle, imagining fluffy clouds- but with her headache blessedly not in attendance, sleeping no longer held appeal.
The inevitable struck her- she had to go make up with Ron.
Not that she had to, precisely, but it just wouldn't do to have her brother pissed at her on the very first day of school.
She changed back into her robes and set off for his room.
"Come on, Ron," Harry said quietly. "Would you have been as upset if you caught me making out with Cho?"
"Of course not- I'd be happy for you. You've liked her since forever."
"Why can't you be happy for Gin, then? She's like me since forever!"
"Because for all I know, you're using her as a Cho substitute," Ron said sullenly.
"I'm not, and you know it," Harry said in disgust. "I don't want to get in a huge fight over this. Stop being such a baby. I am still going to be your friend, I'm not going to ignore you, and I'm not taking advantage of your sister. Now, you can either mope around and whine to Hermione, or you can suck it in and double with us at Hogsmeade's."
Ron stared off into space a bit, then said, "Only if you pay."
"Ronald Weasley!" Ginny yelled, banging on the door.
"Go away, Gin."
"You let me in right now!"
An exasperated Ron opened the door. "Ginny," he said in his "I'm talking to a two-year-old" voice, "Harry and I are in the middle of a very important owl race. Hedwig is winning, so I do not have time for chit-chat."
She furrowed her brow. "You made up, then?"
"No, no, no," Ron assured her. "Girls make up. Boys bully each other into mutual submission."
"That sounds dirty."
"You're distracting me from imperative maneuvers, Gin," he said loftily. He moved to shut the door, but paused. "And let Dean down easy, okay? I'm afraid double dates take precedence."
Ginny started to say, "What the-" but the door was already closed.
Next part is the last- it'll be fairly epilogual, much shorter than the others. It'll be out very soon... ::Grin:: Riight.