(no subject)
This is the little drabble that I began last week.
Y'all are the first to see it, in other words:
Un-edited
Un-betaed
Un-anythinged
The ending, I wish for Harry...
A week after Harry defeated Voldemort, he returned home to the Burrow with me.
He was still a little weak when they finally let him out of St. Mungos. By putting his arm over my shoulders, we were able to hide how much he was leaning on me, so they had to let him come home. Luckily mum was at home keeping an eye on Dad while he recovered, because Mum would have seen right through our little ploy...but then, maybe not... she wanted Harry at home too.
St. Mungo's was even more crowded than usual overflowing with the casualties of this war. Witches and wizards filled every room and most hallways. Even with Ron and Hermione guiding us through the maze, walking the short distance from Harry's room to the apparition departure point was no easy task.
"Harry, can I have your autograph?"
"Harry, my son admired you so much while he was alive..."
"Harry, I fought beside you! Can you tell these healers..."
"Harry, please, will you..."
"Harry..."
"Harry..."
The ones with simple requests, Harry tried to help, and Ron, Hermione and I tried to help him. Most of the people wanted to thank him, or they wanted him to listen as they told their story. Harry was still very weak though, and so, as gently and kindly as we could, we made our way through the corridors.
After the patients, the reporters were waiting for us. Ron and Hermione held the reporters back as we pushed through.
We sighed with relief as we finally crossed the appartion barrier. I was ready for some quality time alone with Harry. Harry was ready to escape the whispers and looks the other patients and doctors gave him, but I think he wanted to be alone with me too. We were all ready to leave the hospital.
Hermione and Ron met us in the kitchen. Mum was busy making biscuits for the war relief fund raiser that was being sponsored by the local chapter of the English Roses Witch League. As soon as we walked in, Mum pushed a biscuit into Harry's mouth.
"There you go, Harry, a biscuit to welcome you home," she said. She tried to wipe her hands clean in the folds of her flour covered apron.
Ron opened his mouth to complain, but Hermione poked him before he could say anything. Mum hadn't let any of us have a single biscuit, since they were to meant to raise money to help families hurt in the war.
Mum waited tensely watching as Harry try to chew through the mass of biscuit she'd stuffed in his mouth.
After nodding a few times and with pieces of biscuit still in his mouth, Harry mumbled, "Good."
Mum smiled with delight, and handed him three more biscuits. Ron only scowled and didn't complain.
Using her wrist to push the hair off her face, Mum told Harry, "I'm glad you like them, dear. These are my special butterscotch biscuits. I'm famous for them. The recipe is very special. It's a secret that has been handed down in my family from mother to daughter for generations. After Ginny gets married, I'll finally be able to share the secret recipe with her."
Subtle Mum, real subtle.
Harry, who was eating another biscuit, nodded, seemingly unaware of Mum's attempt at brainwashing. I just rolled my eyes, and then turned him toward the stairs, but he paused as we were halfway across the room and grabbed two more biscuits. I heard Ron groan behind us.
I guess I should probably learn that recipe.
The first week that Harry was home, we spent almost every day at the pond.
I found out that blue is Harry's favorite color. He especially likes the color of my light blue bikini.
Hermione was not interested in finding out what Ron's favorite color was.
Ron blustered about people not enjoying the summer sun because they were too bundled up and too busy reading. Hermione ignored him. Then Ron got smart enough to ask Hermione to go swimming with him.
After that, Ron made sure that Hermione went swimming for at least an hour every day.
"You need to keep your strength up, so that you have more energy to...read!"
Harry and I would sit by the side of the pond and watch them. Most of the time, Harry rested with his back against a tree, and I leaned against Harry. We watched the gentle breeze blow over the grasses along the edges of the pond. We named each member of the family of ducks that played nearby. We watched the single cloud that appeared as it traveled from one side of the sky to another.
One day at lunch, Hermione commented in an overly bright voice, "Harry, doesn't that ham sandwich look good? Yum! I bet it tastes delicious. You should eat a few more bites."
Harry and Ron both stopped eating long enough to stare at her like she was crazy. I was trying not to laugh.
Harry finally responded, "I'm not hungry."
"Can I have it?" asked Ron. Harry nodded and Ron leaned forward just in time to avoid Hermione's elbow in his side.
That night, Hermione confided to me the reason for her coaxing.
"He isn't eating. He must be brooding," Hermione told me and mum worriedly as she chewed on her lip.
"I'll make his favorites," Mum assured her. "You know, he can't pass up my treacle tart!"
Sure enough, he did eat the treacle tart, but only a few bites.
I asked him that evening, once we were alone, "Are you feeling all right Harry? If you aren't feeling well, we could have a healer from St. Mungos come here. You wouldn't have to return to the hospital."
He looked at me in astonishment, "I'm fine. I get a little tired sometimes, but I'm getting stronger every day. Why do you ask?"
"Well..." I bit my lip, "Hermione was worried about you."
Harry rolled his eyes and then gave me a quick kiss, "Ignore Hermione. I'm fine."
I nodded reluctantly, but then Harry kissed me again. "Promise," he asked as his lips hovered over mine.
"Mm-hmm," I murmured before leaning forward and kissing him back.
I kept to my promise, and I told Hermione, "If Harry says he's fine then we should trust him."
I could tell that Hermione was reluctant to agree.
"He seems happy to me," I said.
"That's true," said Hermione. "I guess you're right."
Early on, Mum had forbidden Harry from flying on his broom, at least until he could walk from the pond to the house without my help. So we began flying together on my broom every day. Harry taught me some interesting seeker moves.
Fred and George came over most evenings, happy to demonstrate their latest projects. Mum didn't even complain. There had been too many times during the war, when Fred and George didn't laugh at all, especially during the days that Dad was missing. It made us all feel good to watch Fred and George trick Ron into eating their Mutton-head Meatloaf turning him into a sheep.
The third week of July, Fleur and Bill announced that they were expecting a baby.
"This calls for a celebration!" said Dad.
Dad has always been my hero. He and Harry are a lot alike actually. No matter what other people around them do, they are always true to themselves. And Dad, even without his eye sight, has remained happy. "I'm not going to let those rotten Death Eaters win by being unhappy now!" he told us the day the healers broke the news that the damage was permanent.
Harry admires Dad too.
"I agree," he said. "Next Saturday is my birthday. I know all of you have been planning something, but I'd rather celebrate Bill and Fleur's baby, a new life. That's what we fought for, a new life.
"Fred and George, what can you scramble together in a week? I want fireworks, party favors...whatever you've got!"
Hermione conjured tissues for us. She conjured a towel for Mum.
The next evening, Remus and Tonks joined us.
Life had really changed for Remus in the six months since Harry and Hermione had managed to cure him of being a werewolf. (We're still surprised the spell worked. I guess it never occurred to any of us that Lockhart may have been good at researching interesting spellwork.)
Tonks says that Remus has enjoyed every full moon since, like a child given his first bit of candy. They stay out all night, basking in the moonlight.
After hearing about the plans for our party on Harry's birthday, Tonks announced that she and Remus were also expecting.
Remus had been surprised when Tonks gave him the news since he couldn't remember discussing it. Then Tonks reminded Remus of how he'd agreed that the time was right to have a child, one morning while he was reading the morning paper. "I am learning that anything my wife says is much more important than whatever I'm reading in the newspaper," Remus told us with a joyful laugh.
After Remus and Tonks' news, the theme of the party changed again, and despite Harry's best efforts, it was decided that we would be celebrating Harry's birthday, and only Harry's birthday.
"We'll have baby showers closer to when the babies are due," said Tonks.
"Oui, Thees eez too early for zee babies to have parties. We are not ready for zee gifts."
Mum refused to let Harry help with any of the preparations. While Ron, Hermione and I cut back the weeds in the gardens, threw out the gnomes, and watered and fed the plants, Harry spent most days up on the platform dad had built for us in a tree when we were kids. Sometimes he'd drop off to sleep, as his body still worked to heal from the toil and labor of the war. Most of the time though, he sat quietly and watched us as we worked.
The first day, Hermione called up to Harry, "Would you like a book to read?"
"No thanks," said Harry.
The second day, Hermione called up to Harry, "Would you like us to get a deck of Exploding Snap cards?"
"No thanks," said Harry.
Even after three days of work, we were still cutting back the weeds that had grown up around the garden. I was sweating in the heat despite wearing my shortest shorts and a ragged T-shirt. Ron had taken off his shirt, and instead was using it as a towel to wipe his sweat off.
Hermione yelled up to Harry asking if he wanted us to get him anything. He yelled back down and told her that he was fine.
She waited a few minutes and then quietly said to me, "He's just been sitting there for three days! He's done nothing but watching us. He must be brooding!"
"He's not brooding," said Ron who walked between us to where we'd been stacking the cut weeds.
Hermione opened her mouth to ask Ron a question, but then she fell silent as he lifted a bundle of weeds and carried them away into the woods where we have our mulch pile. Hermione seemed to have forgotten what she was saying about Hary after that.
Fred and George came by that night to get Harry's approval for the party favors. Harry especially enjoyed the KissMe Toy Figures. No matter how far you pulled them apart or where you put them, the two figures would always find the way back to each other and begin kissing again.
"I've no idea where we got the idea for this one," said George.
"Me neither," said Fred, "These don't look like anyone we know."
"A bloke with messy black hair, a girl with long red hair..." added George.
"Yup, that's no one we know."
"And the other girl with the really long blond hair kissing the red-haired bloke with the ponytail…"
"We've never seen them before in our life!" the twins chorused.
"Do you have any girls with frizzy brown hair with a bloke who has red hair?" asked Ron.
"No," answered the twins.
The next morning, Hermione and I helped Mum with laundry while Ron painted the garden fence. I carried another basket of dirty clothes into the laundry room where Hermione was casting drying charms on the clothes from the washer. I pulled clothes off the line and began folding them.
Hermione sighed, "I'm still worried about Harry," she told me. "He still isn't eating. You're mum noticed too. He only ate half his dinner last night. And this morning, he ate one sausage and then pushed his plate aside!
"Ginny," she said, "after all he's been through, I don't want him to brood like this."
"You don't know if he is brooding," I reminded her.
"True, but he does tend to brood."
"And you tend to worry. If you want to worry about someone, you should worry about Ron. I heard Mum muttering furiously about him just a few minutes ago. She's probably found him by now."
"What did he do?"
I shrugged, but followed Hermione outside. We didn't have to search long. Between Mum's screeches and Ron's pain-filled yelps, they were making enough noise to hide the sound of a World Cup Quidditch match.
"I didn't take them, Mum!" yelled Ron while Mum held him up by his ear. "I haven't had any of your biscuits since last summer! You told me I couldn't have any!"
"Then why is my jar almost empty? The entire jar! No biscuits!" Mum yelled.
"I don't know! Fred and George have been here everyday. Why do you assume it was me?"
Mum reluctantly let go of Ron's ear. She gave him a piercing stare while he rubbed his ear. "If I catch you…"
"I won't!"
Mum stormed past us back into the house.
"What did you do?" asked Hermione.
Ron swung around, yelling at Hermione, "Nothing! Why does everyone always assume that I'm the one who did something wrong?"
"I'm sorry, Ron," she told him. "Really, I am. Here, lets get some ice for your ear."
Ron nodded and followed her into the house.
Harry was walking towards me from the pond. "What was that about," he asked.
I shrugged. "Ron stuff," I told him as I leaned up for a kiss.
"Mmmm..." was Harry's only reply.
Even in the early twilight, the moon shone beautifully that evening, round like an opal in a sky of little diamonds. We were finally finishing the last few preparations for Harry's party which would begin on his birthday at midnight.
I directed Hermione and Ron as they flew the tables into place, and then together the three of us put out place setting for everyone.
Harry sat in his usual spot and watched quietly as we worked below.
"At the very least, I'd think he would get terribly bored sitting up there alone," Hermione told us.
Ron paused a moment to look up at Harry. "Pumpkin juice, Harry?" he called.
"No thanks, Ron."
Ron nodded, and then turned back to the two of us. "He's not bored, and he's not brooding."
Hermione put down the stack of plates she was holding and put her hands on her hips, "How do you know?"
Ron sighed and rolled his eyes, "Because, any bloke that spends day after day staring at his girlfriend's...legs, could not possibly be bored or brooding!"
"Oh!" Hermione squeaked in surprise.
"Girls!" began Ron.
Hermione started to answer back, but I couldn't hear her since I was already walking away. I wanted to find out if Ron had been right.
Harry pushed the rope ladder over the side of the platform, and I climbed up to join him. He sat with his back against the trunk of the tree, and I crawled over so I could lean against him. Then he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head.
"Beautiful night, don't you think?" I asked after I was finally settled.
"Yes, yes, it is," said Harry.
"So you've been watching the stars?"
"Uh...no, not really."
"Hmmm, well, what have you been watching? I'm curious, you see, because Ron just said something very interesting."
"Really? What did he say?"
"He said that you've spent the last several days staring at my....legs."
"Is that right?"
"That's what I want to know, if he was right?"
Harry chuckled. "People really don't give Ron enough credit," he said.
I nodded. "Yes, I agree."
We sat in comfortable silence for a while. The leaves rustled as the breeze blew between them. Hedwig flew above us, a pale arrow in the dark sky. The smell of summer grass tickled my nose, and the warm air felt like a blanket over us.
Mum started lighting the lanterns that hung above the tables.
"Want a biscuit?" asked Harry.
"A biscuit?"
"Mm-hmm," Harry pulled a biscuit from a bag he had beside him, and handed it to me.
I sat up and turned to look at him, "This is one of Mum's butterscotch biscuits, isn't it?"
Harry nodded.
"The ones she's been making for the fund raiser?"
"Fund raiser?" asked Harry starting to look concerned.
I stared at him thoughtfully for a minute before coming to a decision. I leaned back against him, and he wrapped his arms around me again. I took a bite out of the biscuit.
"Mmm, this is good, isn't it?"
"Yes," said Harry sounding unsure.
"You've been eating a lot of these, haven't you?"
"Um, well, yes. I guess... I shouldn't have been eating them?"
I shrugged, "No harm done."
Harry sighed in relief.
"You know you need to eat real food, don't you? We want you to get healthy again."
"I know. They're just so good..."
I patted his leg. "Just take care of yourself, okay?"
"Okay."
We waved at Fred and George. They were flying boxes down to the pond where they eventually planned to set off their fireworks.
"You really like those biscuits, don't you?" I asked.
"They're good," answered Harry.
I nodded.
I've really got to get that recipe from Mum.
A/N: I doubt that I got Ginny right. I was writing from my own mood rather than trying to get her perfect, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyways.
Y'all are the first to see it, in other words:
Un-edited
Un-betaed
Un-anythinged
The ending, I wish for Harry...
A week after Harry defeated Voldemort, he returned home to the Burrow with me.
He was still a little weak when they finally let him out of St. Mungos. By putting his arm over my shoulders, we were able to hide how much he was leaning on me, so they had to let him come home. Luckily mum was at home keeping an eye on Dad while he recovered, because Mum would have seen right through our little ploy...but then, maybe not... she wanted Harry at home too.
St. Mungo's was even more crowded than usual overflowing with the casualties of this war. Witches and wizards filled every room and most hallways. Even with Ron and Hermione guiding us through the maze, walking the short distance from Harry's room to the apparition departure point was no easy task.
"Harry, can I have your autograph?"
"Harry, my son admired you so much while he was alive..."
"Harry, I fought beside you! Can you tell these healers..."
"Harry, please, will you..."
"Harry..."
"Harry..."
The ones with simple requests, Harry tried to help, and Ron, Hermione and I tried to help him. Most of the people wanted to thank him, or they wanted him to listen as they told their story. Harry was still very weak though, and so, as gently and kindly as we could, we made our way through the corridors.
After the patients, the reporters were waiting for us. Ron and Hermione held the reporters back as we pushed through.
We sighed with relief as we finally crossed the appartion barrier. I was ready for some quality time alone with Harry. Harry was ready to escape the whispers and looks the other patients and doctors gave him, but I think he wanted to be alone with me too. We were all ready to leave the hospital.
Hermione and Ron met us in the kitchen. Mum was busy making biscuits for the war relief fund raiser that was being sponsored by the local chapter of the English Roses Witch League. As soon as we walked in, Mum pushed a biscuit into Harry's mouth.
"There you go, Harry, a biscuit to welcome you home," she said. She tried to wipe her hands clean in the folds of her flour covered apron.
Ron opened his mouth to complain, but Hermione poked him before he could say anything. Mum hadn't let any of us have a single biscuit, since they were to meant to raise money to help families hurt in the war.
Mum waited tensely watching as Harry try to chew through the mass of biscuit she'd stuffed in his mouth.
After nodding a few times and with pieces of biscuit still in his mouth, Harry mumbled, "Good."
Mum smiled with delight, and handed him three more biscuits. Ron only scowled and didn't complain.
Using her wrist to push the hair off her face, Mum told Harry, "I'm glad you like them, dear. These are my special butterscotch biscuits. I'm famous for them. The recipe is very special. It's a secret that has been handed down in my family from mother to daughter for generations. After Ginny gets married, I'll finally be able to share the secret recipe with her."
Subtle Mum, real subtle.
Harry, who was eating another biscuit, nodded, seemingly unaware of Mum's attempt at brainwashing. I just rolled my eyes, and then turned him toward the stairs, but he paused as we were halfway across the room and grabbed two more biscuits. I heard Ron groan behind us.
I guess I should probably learn that recipe.
The first week that Harry was home, we spent almost every day at the pond.
I found out that blue is Harry's favorite color. He especially likes the color of my light blue bikini.
Hermione was not interested in finding out what Ron's favorite color was.
Ron blustered about people not enjoying the summer sun because they were too bundled up and too busy reading. Hermione ignored him. Then Ron got smart enough to ask Hermione to go swimming with him.
After that, Ron made sure that Hermione went swimming for at least an hour every day.
"You need to keep your strength up, so that you have more energy to...read!"
Harry and I would sit by the side of the pond and watch them. Most of the time, Harry rested with his back against a tree, and I leaned against Harry. We watched the gentle breeze blow over the grasses along the edges of the pond. We named each member of the family of ducks that played nearby. We watched the single cloud that appeared as it traveled from one side of the sky to another.
One day at lunch, Hermione commented in an overly bright voice, "Harry, doesn't that ham sandwich look good? Yum! I bet it tastes delicious. You should eat a few more bites."
Harry and Ron both stopped eating long enough to stare at her like she was crazy. I was trying not to laugh.
Harry finally responded, "I'm not hungry."
"Can I have it?" asked Ron. Harry nodded and Ron leaned forward just in time to avoid Hermione's elbow in his side.
That night, Hermione confided to me the reason for her coaxing.
"He isn't eating. He must be brooding," Hermione told me and mum worriedly as she chewed on her lip.
"I'll make his favorites," Mum assured her. "You know, he can't pass up my treacle tart!"
Sure enough, he did eat the treacle tart, but only a few bites.
I asked him that evening, once we were alone, "Are you feeling all right Harry? If you aren't feeling well, we could have a healer from St. Mungos come here. You wouldn't have to return to the hospital."
He looked at me in astonishment, "I'm fine. I get a little tired sometimes, but I'm getting stronger every day. Why do you ask?"
"Well..." I bit my lip, "Hermione was worried about you."
Harry rolled his eyes and then gave me a quick kiss, "Ignore Hermione. I'm fine."
I nodded reluctantly, but then Harry kissed me again. "Promise," he asked as his lips hovered over mine.
"Mm-hmm," I murmured before leaning forward and kissing him back.
I kept to my promise, and I told Hermione, "If Harry says he's fine then we should trust him."
I could tell that Hermione was reluctant to agree.
"He seems happy to me," I said.
"That's true," said Hermione. "I guess you're right."
Early on, Mum had forbidden Harry from flying on his broom, at least until he could walk from the pond to the house without my help. So we began flying together on my broom every day. Harry taught me some interesting seeker moves.
Fred and George came over most evenings, happy to demonstrate their latest projects. Mum didn't even complain. There had been too many times during the war, when Fred and George didn't laugh at all, especially during the days that Dad was missing. It made us all feel good to watch Fred and George trick Ron into eating their Mutton-head Meatloaf turning him into a sheep.
The third week of July, Fleur and Bill announced that they were expecting a baby.
"This calls for a celebration!" said Dad.
Dad has always been my hero. He and Harry are a lot alike actually. No matter what other people around them do, they are always true to themselves. And Dad, even without his eye sight, has remained happy. "I'm not going to let those rotten Death Eaters win by being unhappy now!" he told us the day the healers broke the news that the damage was permanent.
Harry admires Dad too.
"I agree," he said. "Next Saturday is my birthday. I know all of you have been planning something, but I'd rather celebrate Bill and Fleur's baby, a new life. That's what we fought for, a new life.
"Fred and George, what can you scramble together in a week? I want fireworks, party favors...whatever you've got!"
Hermione conjured tissues for us. She conjured a towel for Mum.
The next evening, Remus and Tonks joined us.
Life had really changed for Remus in the six months since Harry and Hermione had managed to cure him of being a werewolf. (We're still surprised the spell worked. I guess it never occurred to any of us that Lockhart may have been good at researching interesting spellwork.)
Tonks says that Remus has enjoyed every full moon since, like a child given his first bit of candy. They stay out all night, basking in the moonlight.
After hearing about the plans for our party on Harry's birthday, Tonks announced that she and Remus were also expecting.
Remus had been surprised when Tonks gave him the news since he couldn't remember discussing it. Then Tonks reminded Remus of how he'd agreed that the time was right to have a child, one morning while he was reading the morning paper. "I am learning that anything my wife says is much more important than whatever I'm reading in the newspaper," Remus told us with a joyful laugh.
After Remus and Tonks' news, the theme of the party changed again, and despite Harry's best efforts, it was decided that we would be celebrating Harry's birthday, and only Harry's birthday.
"We'll have baby showers closer to when the babies are due," said Tonks.
"Oui, Thees eez too early for zee babies to have parties. We are not ready for zee gifts."
Mum refused to let Harry help with any of the preparations. While Ron, Hermione and I cut back the weeds in the gardens, threw out the gnomes, and watered and fed the plants, Harry spent most days up on the platform dad had built for us in a tree when we were kids. Sometimes he'd drop off to sleep, as his body still worked to heal from the toil and labor of the war. Most of the time though, he sat quietly and watched us as we worked.
The first day, Hermione called up to Harry, "Would you like a book to read?"
"No thanks," said Harry.
The second day, Hermione called up to Harry, "Would you like us to get a deck of Exploding Snap cards?"
"No thanks," said Harry.
Even after three days of work, we were still cutting back the weeds that had grown up around the garden. I was sweating in the heat despite wearing my shortest shorts and a ragged T-shirt. Ron had taken off his shirt, and instead was using it as a towel to wipe his sweat off.
Hermione yelled up to Harry asking if he wanted us to get him anything. He yelled back down and told her that he was fine.
She waited a few minutes and then quietly said to me, "He's just been sitting there for three days! He's done nothing but watching us. He must be brooding!"
"He's not brooding," said Ron who walked between us to where we'd been stacking the cut weeds.
Hermione opened her mouth to ask Ron a question, but then she fell silent as he lifted a bundle of weeds and carried them away into the woods where we have our mulch pile. Hermione seemed to have forgotten what she was saying about Hary after that.
Fred and George came by that night to get Harry's approval for the party favors. Harry especially enjoyed the KissMe Toy Figures. No matter how far you pulled them apart or where you put them, the two figures would always find the way back to each other and begin kissing again.
"I've no idea where we got the idea for this one," said George.
"Me neither," said Fred, "These don't look like anyone we know."
"A bloke with messy black hair, a girl with long red hair..." added George.
"Yup, that's no one we know."
"And the other girl with the really long blond hair kissing the red-haired bloke with the ponytail…"
"We've never seen them before in our life!" the twins chorused.
"Do you have any girls with frizzy brown hair with a bloke who has red hair?" asked Ron.
"No," answered the twins.
The next morning, Hermione and I helped Mum with laundry while Ron painted the garden fence. I carried another basket of dirty clothes into the laundry room where Hermione was casting drying charms on the clothes from the washer. I pulled clothes off the line and began folding them.
Hermione sighed, "I'm still worried about Harry," she told me. "He still isn't eating. You're mum noticed too. He only ate half his dinner last night. And this morning, he ate one sausage and then pushed his plate aside!
"Ginny," she said, "after all he's been through, I don't want him to brood like this."
"You don't know if he is brooding," I reminded her.
"True, but he does tend to brood."
"And you tend to worry. If you want to worry about someone, you should worry about Ron. I heard Mum muttering furiously about him just a few minutes ago. She's probably found him by now."
"What did he do?"
I shrugged, but followed Hermione outside. We didn't have to search long. Between Mum's screeches and Ron's pain-filled yelps, they were making enough noise to hide the sound of a World Cup Quidditch match.
"I didn't take them, Mum!" yelled Ron while Mum held him up by his ear. "I haven't had any of your biscuits since last summer! You told me I couldn't have any!"
"Then why is my jar almost empty? The entire jar! No biscuits!" Mum yelled.
"I don't know! Fred and George have been here everyday. Why do you assume it was me?"
Mum reluctantly let go of Ron's ear. She gave him a piercing stare while he rubbed his ear. "If I catch you…"
"I won't!"
Mum stormed past us back into the house.
"What did you do?" asked Hermione.
Ron swung around, yelling at Hermione, "Nothing! Why does everyone always assume that I'm the one who did something wrong?"
"I'm sorry, Ron," she told him. "Really, I am. Here, lets get some ice for your ear."
Ron nodded and followed her into the house.
Harry was walking towards me from the pond. "What was that about," he asked.
I shrugged. "Ron stuff," I told him as I leaned up for a kiss.
"Mmmm..." was Harry's only reply.
Even in the early twilight, the moon shone beautifully that evening, round like an opal in a sky of little diamonds. We were finally finishing the last few preparations for Harry's party which would begin on his birthday at midnight.
I directed Hermione and Ron as they flew the tables into place, and then together the three of us put out place setting for everyone.
Harry sat in his usual spot and watched quietly as we worked below.
"At the very least, I'd think he would get terribly bored sitting up there alone," Hermione told us.
Ron paused a moment to look up at Harry. "Pumpkin juice, Harry?" he called.
"No thanks, Ron."
Ron nodded, and then turned back to the two of us. "He's not bored, and he's not brooding."
Hermione put down the stack of plates she was holding and put her hands on her hips, "How do you know?"
Ron sighed and rolled his eyes, "Because, any bloke that spends day after day staring at his girlfriend's...legs, could not possibly be bored or brooding!"
"Oh!" Hermione squeaked in surprise.
"Girls!" began Ron.
Hermione started to answer back, but I couldn't hear her since I was already walking away. I wanted to find out if Ron had been right.
Harry pushed the rope ladder over the side of the platform, and I climbed up to join him. He sat with his back against the trunk of the tree, and I crawled over so I could lean against him. Then he wrapped his arms around me and kissed the top of my head.
"Beautiful night, don't you think?" I asked after I was finally settled.
"Yes, yes, it is," said Harry.
"So you've been watching the stars?"
"Uh...no, not really."
"Hmmm, well, what have you been watching? I'm curious, you see, because Ron just said something very interesting."
"Really? What did he say?"
"He said that you've spent the last several days staring at my....legs."
"Is that right?"
"That's what I want to know, if he was right?"
Harry chuckled. "People really don't give Ron enough credit," he said.
I nodded. "Yes, I agree."
We sat in comfortable silence for a while. The leaves rustled as the breeze blew between them. Hedwig flew above us, a pale arrow in the dark sky. The smell of summer grass tickled my nose, and the warm air felt like a blanket over us.
Mum started lighting the lanterns that hung above the tables.
"Want a biscuit?" asked Harry.
"A biscuit?"
"Mm-hmm," Harry pulled a biscuit from a bag he had beside him, and handed it to me.
I sat up and turned to look at him, "This is one of Mum's butterscotch biscuits, isn't it?"
Harry nodded.
"The ones she's been making for the fund raiser?"
"Fund raiser?" asked Harry starting to look concerned.
I stared at him thoughtfully for a minute before coming to a decision. I leaned back against him, and he wrapped his arms around me again. I took a bite out of the biscuit.
"Mmm, this is good, isn't it?"
"Yes," said Harry sounding unsure.
"You've been eating a lot of these, haven't you?"
"Um, well, yes. I guess... I shouldn't have been eating them?"
I shrugged, "No harm done."
Harry sighed in relief.
"You know you need to eat real food, don't you? We want you to get healthy again."
"I know. They're just so good..."
I patted his leg. "Just take care of yourself, okay?"
"Okay."
We waved at Fred and George. They were flying boxes down to the pond where they eventually planned to set off their fireworks.
"You really like those biscuits, don't you?" I asked.
"They're good," answered Harry.
I nodded.
I've really got to get that recipe from Mum.
A/N: I doubt that I got Ginny right. I was writing from my own mood rather than trying to get her perfect, but I hope you'll enjoy it anyways.