In With the Old
Aaand on the last day I finally get my fic posted. :)
IN WITH THE OLD
Ginny was incredibly perplexed. She had been doing so very well with her spring cleaning this year, and had tossed an absurd amount of old useless things that she had been hanging onto for far too long. Among them were an old book of bad poems from when she’d been pining over Harry in her first year (the best of the lot was the one that she had actually sent to him as a singing valentine, and with that in mind, she had no desire for anyone to ever see the rest of them), several old sweaters, a few pairs of pants that she simply didn’t wear any longer, and a slough of worn toys. But now, looking over the two piles of things she had deemed either in good enough condition to give away or too ratty to ever see anything but a landfill, she could not locate one of the blouses. It was the green one she’d worn quite often in her sixth year, but had spilled an entire bottle of permanent ink on a few weeks ago. She’d kept the shirt long enough to determine she couldn’t get the stain out on her own, and didn’t care enough to pay for it to be professionally cleaned. Now it was time for it to go.
Except now she couldn’t find it. Anywhere. And there really weren’t many places it could possibly have gone. Her room was very small and not nearly as cramped as it used to be, but apparently even so, a single article of clothing could turn up missing after only a few moments of having her back turned. “Harry!” she called out the door into the hallway. She knew he was around. He had come to the Burrow to help her clean up and pack her things. She was moving to Holyhead, Wales, which was the reason for her sudden interest in flinging things about, and although she was incredibly excited for her new adventure playing Quidditch professionally, she was also anxious about leaving her family, especially her parents, who were finally going to be official empty-nesters. ”Harry? Can you come in here for a moment?”
Harry’s head poked around the door a second later. “Yeah? What’s up?” He was dressed casually, having taken the day off from Auror training in London to be here with her. Ron had scoffed and smirked at him for it, but he shut up when Harry pointed out how often the redhead slipped away to see Hermione. Ginny took a moment to just look at her boyfriend - her boyfriend - who looked so grown-up and handsome, even in jeans and an old t-shirt.
“Have you seen my green blouse? I was going to throw it out, but I can’t find where on earth I put it down.” she asked.
“Which one?”
“The one I spilled ink on. The really dark one that you liked.”
“Oh, that one!” Harry’s eyes lit up in recognition. “That’s the one you wore on our first real date, right?”
Ginny blinked. “Was it?”
“Yeah, and that day when you and your brothers planned that birthday party for me, because I’d never actually had one? You were wearing it then, too.”
“Really?” said Ginny, thinking hard. “I don’t remember. I don’t think I was paying that close attention.”
Harry winked. “Well, I was.”
Ginny smiled at him. “Clearly. But anyway, have you seen it?”
Harry frowned, ignoring the question. “Why would you want to get rid of that shirt?” he asked. “I liked that shirt. You always looked really nice in it, and I have a lot of memories with you wearing it.”
Ginny was surprised. “Well, regardless, it was ruined, and I don’t have the money to have it cleaned, so it has to go.”
“But… you shouldn’t just give up that quickly.”
Ginny looked at him suspiciously. “Harry, why haven’t you come in? You’re just leaning around the door like you’re trying to… hide something.” She glared at him. “Did you take my shirt?”
Harry looked supremely guilty. “Erm, I was, I mean, you were going to throw it out! I rescued it!”
Ginny marched over to the door and after a brief struggle was able to wrest the shirt from his grip. “I don’t know why you care so much,” she said. “It was a gift from Hermione, and we had plenty of memories where I was wearing other shirts, too,” she said.
Harry blushed. “Well, actually, it wasn’t from Hermione,” he said, scratching the back of his head.
Ginny froze. “What do you mean?”
Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Well, I mean, we weren’t really together at the time, but that summer we were all in Diagon Alley and I saw you looking at it, and I thought you’d look really nice in it, and I couldn’t really buy it for you since we weren’t dating, so… I gave Hermione the money and asked her to get it for you.” He finished and gave her a sort of half-smile. “And besides, it’s not all that expensive to get it cleaned. Now that you’re going to be a famous Quidditch star, they’ll probably pay you to get to clean your stuff and have you endorse their company.”
Ginny looked down at the soft material in her hands with a new sort of warmth building inside her. She looked up at Harry’s blushing face, and began to laugh. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “You’re such an idiot,” she said, “but I love you.”
Harry looked somewhat relieved. “So, you won’t get rid of it?”
Ginny shook her head and grinned. “When I’m a famous Quidditch star, I’ll be sure to tell the first reporter I see how attached Harry Potter is to my clothes.”
Harry grinned right back. “As long as you’re wearing that shirt when you say it, I don’t really care.”
IN WITH THE OLD
Ginny was incredibly perplexed. She had been doing so very well with her spring cleaning this year, and had tossed an absurd amount of old useless things that she had been hanging onto for far too long. Among them were an old book of bad poems from when she’d been pining over Harry in her first year (the best of the lot was the one that she had actually sent to him as a singing valentine, and with that in mind, she had no desire for anyone to ever see the rest of them), several old sweaters, a few pairs of pants that she simply didn’t wear any longer, and a slough of worn toys. But now, looking over the two piles of things she had deemed either in good enough condition to give away or too ratty to ever see anything but a landfill, she could not locate one of the blouses. It was the green one she’d worn quite often in her sixth year, but had spilled an entire bottle of permanent ink on a few weeks ago. She’d kept the shirt long enough to determine she couldn’t get the stain out on her own, and didn’t care enough to pay for it to be professionally cleaned. Now it was time for it to go.
Except now she couldn’t find it. Anywhere. And there really weren’t many places it could possibly have gone. Her room was very small and not nearly as cramped as it used to be, but apparently even so, a single article of clothing could turn up missing after only a few moments of having her back turned. “Harry!” she called out the door into the hallway. She knew he was around. He had come to the Burrow to help her clean up and pack her things. She was moving to Holyhead, Wales, which was the reason for her sudden interest in flinging things about, and although she was incredibly excited for her new adventure playing Quidditch professionally, she was also anxious about leaving her family, especially her parents, who were finally going to be official empty-nesters. ”Harry? Can you come in here for a moment?”
Harry’s head poked around the door a second later. “Yeah? What’s up?” He was dressed casually, having taken the day off from Auror training in London to be here with her. Ron had scoffed and smirked at him for it, but he shut up when Harry pointed out how often the redhead slipped away to see Hermione. Ginny took a moment to just look at her boyfriend - her boyfriend - who looked so grown-up and handsome, even in jeans and an old t-shirt.
“Have you seen my green blouse? I was going to throw it out, but I can’t find where on earth I put it down.” she asked.
“Which one?”
“The one I spilled ink on. The really dark one that you liked.”
“Oh, that one!” Harry’s eyes lit up in recognition. “That’s the one you wore on our first real date, right?”
Ginny blinked. “Was it?”
“Yeah, and that day when you and your brothers planned that birthday party for me, because I’d never actually had one? You were wearing it then, too.”
“Really?” said Ginny, thinking hard. “I don’t remember. I don’t think I was paying that close attention.”
Harry winked. “Well, I was.”
Ginny smiled at him. “Clearly. But anyway, have you seen it?”
Harry frowned, ignoring the question. “Why would you want to get rid of that shirt?” he asked. “I liked that shirt. You always looked really nice in it, and I have a lot of memories with you wearing it.”
Ginny was surprised. “Well, regardless, it was ruined, and I don’t have the money to have it cleaned, so it has to go.”
“But… you shouldn’t just give up that quickly.”
Ginny looked at him suspiciously. “Harry, why haven’t you come in? You’re just leaning around the door like you’re trying to… hide something.” She glared at him. “Did you take my shirt?”
Harry looked supremely guilty. “Erm, I was, I mean, you were going to throw it out! I rescued it!”
Ginny marched over to the door and after a brief struggle was able to wrest the shirt from his grip. “I don’t know why you care so much,” she said. “It was a gift from Hermione, and we had plenty of memories where I was wearing other shirts, too,” she said.
Harry blushed. “Well, actually, it wasn’t from Hermione,” he said, scratching the back of his head.
Ginny froze. “What do you mean?”
Harry shifted his weight uncomfortably. “Well, I mean, we weren’t really together at the time, but that summer we were all in Diagon Alley and I saw you looking at it, and I thought you’d look really nice in it, and I couldn’t really buy it for you since we weren’t dating, so… I gave Hermione the money and asked her to get it for you.” He finished and gave her a sort of half-smile. “And besides, it’s not all that expensive to get it cleaned. Now that you’re going to be a famous Quidditch star, they’ll probably pay you to get to clean your stuff and have you endorse their company.”
Ginny looked down at the soft material in her hands with a new sort of warmth building inside her. She looked up at Harry’s blushing face, and began to laugh. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “You’re such an idiot,” she said, “but I love you.”
Harry looked somewhat relieved. “So, you won’t get rid of it?”
Ginny shook her head and grinned. “When I’m a famous Quidditch star, I’ll be sure to tell the first reporter I see how attached Harry Potter is to my clothes.”
Harry grinned right back. “As long as you’re wearing that shirt when you say it, I don’t really care.”