Part Two
In which Ginny does not have a crush.
Icon in this post by ajcher
Luna was curled on the couch watching TV when Ginny entered their tiny flat. Tiredly setting her keys on the hall table, Ginny inched her way around the sofa and sat down next to Luna, groaning and rubbing her arms.
“Not a good day then?” Luna asked, averting her eyes for a moment from the nature documentary she was watching. Ginny rubbed her face in her hands, considering this for a moment before answering.
“Well the last part of my day was pretty horrible,” she shuddered. “I had to massage this gross bleached blonde guy with an awful fake tan and perfect eyebrows who wanted me to, and I quote, ‘spend a lot of time on his groin area - rub it really hard for me’,” Ginny quaked at the memory as she used air quotes to illustrate the story. Luna patted her arm in sympathy.
“But,” Ginny continued, “the, uh, first part of the day was really sort of great,” she said, grinning a little bit as she remembered Harry, and Harry’s back, and Harry’s shoulders, (and Harry’s back) and Harry’s chest (and Harry’s back) and then the eye contact at the end as he was talking to Rita and his back -
“Oh?” Luna interrupted her. “Is there a story here?”
“Not really,” she said nonchalantly, because it wasn't like she had a crush or anything, but she suddenly felt like she had a coat hanger in her mouth and she could feel her face heating up. She remembered running her hands over his body and the slightly wicked smile he'd given her and her breathing increased, just a little bit. She had spent the rest of the time between clients staring at his contact details and she seriously didn't have a crush, at all, really, but suddenly she found herself wanting to tell Luna all about him, and his eyes, and his back, just, you know, to make conversation. Not because she wanted to talk about him (or his eyes, or his back), or anything. “There was just this guy that came in,” Ginny began and Luna pressed the mute button to show that Ginny had her full attention.
“Actually he used to be sort of famous,” Ginny said as Luna sat up a bit straighter. “Did you ever follow tennis when you were growing up?”
Luna blinked slowly at her, turning her face to the side, considering the matter thoughtfully.
“Oh never mind,” Ginny said impatiently. “So, okay, this guy, right, Harry Potter, he came in for a massage and he used to be a famous tennis player, but then-” Luna’s eyes were sliding towards the TV set and Ginny huffed at her until her eyes snapped back, unperturbed.
“I was trying to tell you a story-”
“About Harry Potter and how he used to play tennis and you gave him a massage today and it was rife with sexual tension, yes I know,” Luna interrupted her, eyes on the man in the khaki pants gesturing towards a beach in the TV.
Ginny gasped, shocked. “How did you-”
Luna waved an airy hand, still focusing on the TV. ‘You have a thing for backs, and he used to play tennis, and he probably has a nice back. It’s not a Quantum Leap, Gin,” she said. “Actually,” she added thoughtfully, eyes on the TV set, “that little back fetish of yours is probably the reason you ended up a masseuse in the first place.”
Ginny’s mouth fell open, appalled.
“Now,” Luna said, picking up the remote and poking Ginny with it. “Shush, because this part is really interesting.”
Ginny sputtered indignantly and flopped back on the couch breathing heavily through her nose because there was no way that Luna might have a point about the whole back thing, and how did she know, anyway? but Luna’s eyes were still on the screen and Ginny gave up and gazed at the TV in a huffy silence. A lone tortoise was sitting on a beach looking morose and it certainly didn’t look fascinating, but then again, Luna’s idea of what was interesting differed hugely from her own. Luna made her own chai, for God’s sake.
“What is this about anyway?” Ginny spat after a few moments, crossing her arms and staring at the screen.
“The Pinta Island tortoise,” came Luna's dreamy reply. “It’s the world’s rarest animal. There’s only one left in the whole world. His name is Lonesome George.”
The tortoise on the TV stretched his neck slightly, blinking in the bright sun.
“But,” Ginny said, leaning forward a little, “that’s so sad.”
“I know,” Luna nodded and turned up the volume.
--Lonesome George is the sole surviving member of the Pinta Island race, the giant tortoise being a symbol for the fragility of the Galapagos islands and a constant reminder for vigilance and conservation of the species. The species was considered extinct until 1971, when a lone example was located by rangers. Since then, the Charles Darwin Research Station has been searching for a female tortoise, even posting a reward of $10,000 to those that find one--
Luna sat up suddenly, grabbing for the phone.
“What are you doing?” Ginny asked, startled.
“I want to help,” Luna said, dialling furiously and Ginny had barely a moment to register the fact that Luna knew the call centre number off by heart before Luna was saying, “Yes, hello, Neville was it? I want to help save Lonesome George,” and wandering off into the kitchen.
Sighing, Ginny turned back to the TV and snuggled down further into the couch cushions, ready to lose herself in the plight of Lonesome George and not wondering, at all, what Harry Potter was doing at that moment. Really.
Except that she totally was.
Go to Part Three...
Icon in this post by ajcher
Luna was curled on the couch watching TV when Ginny entered their tiny flat. Tiredly setting her keys on the hall table, Ginny inched her way around the sofa and sat down next to Luna, groaning and rubbing her arms.
“Not a good day then?” Luna asked, averting her eyes for a moment from the nature documentary she was watching. Ginny rubbed her face in her hands, considering this for a moment before answering.
“Well the last part of my day was pretty horrible,” she shuddered. “I had to massage this gross bleached blonde guy with an awful fake tan and perfect eyebrows who wanted me to, and I quote, ‘spend a lot of time on his groin area - rub it really hard for me’,” Ginny quaked at the memory as she used air quotes to illustrate the story. Luna patted her arm in sympathy.
“But,” Ginny continued, “the, uh, first part of the day was really sort of great,” she said, grinning a little bit as she remembered Harry, and Harry’s back, and Harry’s shoulders, (and Harry’s back) and Harry’s chest (and Harry’s back) and then the eye contact at the end as he was talking to Rita and his back -
“Oh?” Luna interrupted her. “Is there a story here?”
“Not really,” she said nonchalantly, because it wasn't like she had a crush or anything, but she suddenly felt like she had a coat hanger in her mouth and she could feel her face heating up. She remembered running her hands over his body and the slightly wicked smile he'd given her and her breathing increased, just a little bit. She had spent the rest of the time between clients staring at his contact details and she seriously didn't have a crush, at all, really, but suddenly she found herself wanting to tell Luna all about him, and his eyes, and his back, just, you know, to make conversation. Not because she wanted to talk about him (or his eyes, or his back), or anything. “There was just this guy that came in,” Ginny began and Luna pressed the mute button to show that Ginny had her full attention.
“Actually he used to be sort of famous,” Ginny said as Luna sat up a bit straighter. “Did you ever follow tennis when you were growing up?”
Luna blinked slowly at her, turning her face to the side, considering the matter thoughtfully.
“Oh never mind,” Ginny said impatiently. “So, okay, this guy, right, Harry Potter, he came in for a massage and he used to be a famous tennis player, but then-” Luna’s eyes were sliding towards the TV set and Ginny huffed at her until her eyes snapped back, unperturbed.
“I was trying to tell you a story-”
“About Harry Potter and how he used to play tennis and you gave him a massage today and it was rife with sexual tension, yes I know,” Luna interrupted her, eyes on the man in the khaki pants gesturing towards a beach in the TV.
Ginny gasped, shocked. “How did you-”
Luna waved an airy hand, still focusing on the TV. ‘You have a thing for backs, and he used to play tennis, and he probably has a nice back. It’s not a Quantum Leap, Gin,” she said. “Actually,” she added thoughtfully, eyes on the TV set, “that little back fetish of yours is probably the reason you ended up a masseuse in the first place.”
Ginny’s mouth fell open, appalled.
“Now,” Luna said, picking up the remote and poking Ginny with it. “Shush, because this part is really interesting.”
Ginny sputtered indignantly and flopped back on the couch breathing heavily through her nose because there was no way that Luna might have a point about the whole back thing, and how did she know, anyway? but Luna’s eyes were still on the screen and Ginny gave up and gazed at the TV in a huffy silence. A lone tortoise was sitting on a beach looking morose and it certainly didn’t look fascinating, but then again, Luna’s idea of what was interesting differed hugely from her own. Luna made her own chai, for God’s sake.
“What is this about anyway?” Ginny spat after a few moments, crossing her arms and staring at the screen.
“The Pinta Island tortoise,” came Luna's dreamy reply. “It’s the world’s rarest animal. There’s only one left in the whole world. His name is Lonesome George.”
The tortoise on the TV stretched his neck slightly, blinking in the bright sun.
“But,” Ginny said, leaning forward a little, “that’s so sad.”
“I know,” Luna nodded and turned up the volume.
--Lonesome George is the sole surviving member of the Pinta Island race, the giant tortoise being a symbol for the fragility of the Galapagos islands and a constant reminder for vigilance and conservation of the species. The species was considered extinct until 1971, when a lone example was located by rangers. Since then, the Charles Darwin Research Station has been searching for a female tortoise, even posting a reward of $10,000 to those that find one--
Luna sat up suddenly, grabbing for the phone.
“What are you doing?” Ginny asked, startled.
“I want to help,” Luna said, dialling furiously and Ginny had barely a moment to register the fact that Luna knew the call centre number off by heart before Luna was saying, “Yes, hello, Neville was it? I want to help save Lonesome George,” and wandering off into the kitchen.
Sighing, Ginny turned back to the TV and snuggled down further into the couch cushions, ready to lose herself in the plight of Lonesome George and not wondering, at all, what Harry Potter was doing at that moment. Really.
Except that she totally was.
Go to Part Three...