Authors Notes: This one of those stories which makes Ginny look like a slut and a bitch. So apologies to all Ginny fans. This is something I've been dying to do for ages. It is my shot at mild humor but I'm afraid I haven't done very well... I'm trying loads of different genres as you can see I've done horror (and got an amazing response to that outside of , thank you) and a fluff. So once again I ask you to tell me how I did!
Disclaimer: If I owned Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy would be married to me.
The Hogwarts express raced along the countryside, columns of white steams folding out of the train as it travels on. The steam then twirls and spins into the air until it disappears in the blue sky, leaving just the clouds and the shining sun. I (Ginny Weasley if you don't know, but I bet you do) remembered mum praising the good weather as we travelled towards Kings Cross Station. But I no longer cared that the sun was shining or that I would be starting N.E.W.T. work this year. No I was sitting with my arms crossed staring at my sleeping friends.
Harry, Hermione and Ron had been up all last night at the Burrow celebrating the demise of You-Know-Who. I had been there of course but I had gone to bed early because of a pounding headache and wanting a good start this morning. I was actually surprised Hermione didn't follow me up but continued dancing with Harry. My Harry. Had they all forgotten who dated Harry last year? Me! So why was he dancing with her, the girl who Ron clearly fancied and not me? Huh? How is that fair when I'm clearly the love of his life.
And now they're sitting together opposite me as Ron snores to my right. They're both leaning on each other, Hermione using him as a teddy bear. How desperate can you get? He clearly wants me. I pull my red hair out of its pony-tail and take out my pocket mirror and I use my wand to alter my make-up. I look at my reflection, Harry is sure to ask me back out again now. I look like a goddess, I could be Ginny, the beautiful goddess of fire. To match my hair of course. And what would Hermione be? Sure she's sorta pretty but with than bush of hair and snotty attitude she's bound to be my servant. And Harry shall be my husband forever. So she should stop being so clingy.
I've loved Harry even before I met him! Surely that's enough proof that we're perfect for each other! He's just confused because of the war; he'll shake her off eventually and give her back to Ron. But Ron doesn't seem to care about Hermione trying to steal Harry from me. In fact he keeps nudging Fred and George when they're together and pointing at them sniggering. He's probably just laughing because Hermione's being so desperate. He probably doesn't even want her anymore. Not that I can blame him.
Everyone keeps making hurtful jokes about Harry and Hermione. Like whenever they leave a room together people yell, "Be safe!" or, "Make sure I'm the godparent!" People have started rumours about how Harry and Hermione are dating secretly. But that's ridiculous because he's going to date me soon.
I'm watching them again, and Harry's murmuring in his sleep. He's so adorable when he does that, I bet he's dreaming about me. Who wouldn't? I bet he's dreaming about my boobs. They're so big. I bet he wants to jiggle them, Dean always liked jiggling them. He called them his jiggle bells. Dean is such a sweetheart.
I've decided I can't waste any more time worrying about when Harry will jiggle my boobs because it will give me frown lines. So I've decided to compare myself with Hermione as she sleeps on my Harry. This cheers me up immensely because she could never match up to me. Why do I even worry about Harry and his little distractions? Or should I say whores. *cough* Cho Chang *cough*. And now I'm pulling out my notepad and quill, I'm going to make a list. Off all the reasons why Hermione cannot and should not date Harry.
1) He's mine.
2) She doesn't play Quidditch.
3) She reads too much she's going to strain her eyes
4) She's not pretty enough.
5) She's over emotional. I mean did you see her in her fourth year, screaming and yelling when Harry was facing that dragon. Pathetic. You could see he was doing just fine.
6) I'm clearly better than her.
7) I've got better boobs.
8) I'm not a virgin.
And then I hear little whispers coming from opposite me. I shoot daggers at Hermione. They're both awake now, bending their heads together murmuring to each other, their lips are nearly touching. I can almost feel the repulsion radiating off Harry. That's my man. But I can't seem to draw my eyes away from the two of them. It's like Harry doesn't realise I'm sitting here. I mean it is me who he loves. Boys.
I return to my list.
Hermione and I secretly know we hate each other, even without saying it I can tell she hates me and knows I hate her back. We put on this silly show for the rest of the world so people don't get involved. We all know they'd take my side, who would side with a troll like her? Not me! It's annoying how well she acts all friendly though. It's almost as if she thinks we're friends. But I know she can't be that stupid. Even if she's stupid enough to try and steal my future husband away from me.
If only you could see them now, stroking each other's thumbs as they grip each other's hands. Hermione is such a bitch and poor Harry is too nice to tell her he hates her. Bless. It's almost laughable. Most people would ask me why I haven't hexed Hermione into next year by now, but I must be the mature one because I know that by the end of the week Harry and I will be shagging like bunnies. Or whatever the stupid phrase is.
But honestly why would any guy prefer her over me? I mean just look at my list! If they like her for her brown eyes, you could find nicer brown eyes in mine. So I honestly don't see what else you'd like about her.
I think about Hermione too much. She's ruining my inner tranquillity and harmony. Let's get back to thinking about Harry touching my boobs. Ah, that's better. And not one thought about stinky bush-haired trolls. Darn it. Harry. Boobs. Touching. Not. Hermione. Harry. Harry. Hermione. Boobs. Bouncy. Boobs. Jiggle. Troll. Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry. Harry. NOT HERMIONE.
Fuck this is harder than you think. I mean what reason do I have about thinking of that dingbat. Other than the fact she's slutting all over my boyfriend (nearly). I need a good shag to get Hermione off my mind…
"Oh Dean! I hear some bells ringing for you!"
Dean now looks like I've just handed him all the money in the world. It's a good thing I've got a level self-esteem or all these guys falling over me would really make me conceited.
Yeah, Dean always relaxed me. If this is some guy I don't care about, just think about when I have sex with Harry next month. And he'd be all turned on when he finds out I'm not a virgin and be all sexy with his hair falling over his green eyes. Yummy.
A bet he a bit dir-
"Ginny!" Oh. It's Queen of the Fugly Demons.
"Hermione!" I saw in my sweetest voice, "How are you this morning? Looking forward to classes?"
She nods fanatically. Can't she see guys don't dig brains? Harry's staring at her with his mouth slightly open like he's been hit over the head with a bludger. I know Harry, she's annoying right? "It's my final year! I can't believe it. I honestly thought we were dying during that battle in July… Well I thought one of us defiantly wasn't going to be there." She moves her gaze to Harry, her expression overflowing with sadness. I wonder how long she practiced that in the mirror last night. But to my horror he takes her hand over the table, she immediately relaxes. Blast-ended skank she thinks she can really play this game. I'm going to be so mature about this. I'm not even going to give a reaction.
Okay, maybe I spat in her food a few minutes ago but that's not the point.
"Hey Ginny," says Dean, failing to do a sexy purr and it sounds like he's choking whilst having a tongue spasm.
"Oh, swallow a hyppogriff you son of a bludger," I shoot back.
He looks startled at my sudden aggression, "But sugarlips-"
"What kind of nickname is that?"
"I thought we had fun last night," he purred. Merlin, I wish he would stop doing that.
I smile wickedly, men always find this sexy, "Oh I had fun, baby. But that doesn't mean you're any fun." He frowns and moves away. Thank the Lord.
"What was that about?" my idiot of a brother asks suspiciously.
"Dean was being a prat," I reply annoyed that it wasn't Harry worrying why I was talking to Dean. He was probably playing it cool, didn't want to hurt Hermione the mountain troll's feelings. Sometimes having such a considerate soon-to-be-boyfriend is slightly annoying. But I love him anyway. And I'll love him even more when he's doing dirty thing to me in bed. I bet he tastes awesome.
I sent a smirk at Hermione when she isn't looking. She won't know what hit her. So she can stop bloody touching up Harry's knuckles now. I wonder if she can feel my death glare. I squint harder.
Harry looks over at me. Yes! "Ginny? Do you have something in your eye?"
I let my face slacken; I can feel the heat rushing into my cheeks. A smile at him, "Yeah. My eye really hurts." I put on my cutest pout.
"You should see if they have anything in the Hospital Wing for that or something," he says before turning back to Hermione. My mouth falls open, just because he wants to surprise everyone with us getting back together doesn't mean he has to act like he doesn't care!
Someone slid beside me, "Hey sugarlips, I hear your eye is hurting. Can I help?"
"Shove off Dean," I mutter.
I twirl my hair whilst looking down to where Harry was having an outdoor lesson of Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson. He was with Hermione again. Urg. When is he going to let that freak know he's not interested?
Something hits my head. "OW!" I cry. The class turns to look at me, "Just stumped my toe." They turn back to the teacher. Honestly does no one care about me? No, that's a stupid thought. Everyone loves me; they just play cool because they all want me so bad. Especially Harry, I bet he has dreams about me.
I look for the thing that hit my head. It was a paper ball wrapped all. I unwrap it (what do you expect me to do, shag it?).
I hear you're a good shag.
Callum
I look over at Callum. He's trying to look sexy. Remind me to hex him later.
Harry and Herm-Hog are missing. No one's seen them for two hours. I know what they're doing but I'm not going to tell anyone. I'm being nice to Granger by not telling anyone that Harry's sat her down for a long talk about how she's got to stop stalking him all the time and how he's madly in love with me and not with her. And how he finds it a bit creepy how obsessed she is with him. I mean all she does it talk about him. At least I don't do that. I just think about him all the time. Much more decent.
But I'm going to go find them; I'm sure Harry might need my help when she breaks into hysterical tears and starts screaming and shit. I'd never do anything like that if I found out Harry didn't love me. These hallways are awfully boring. I need a song….
"Haaarrry luuuuvs meee! Oh yeaahh he doesss! Haaarrry luuuuvs meee! Forever and forever! Unntiiiil death do usss parrrrrt! Haaarrry luuuuvs meee! OOOOOHHH YEEAAAHHH!"
I'm so good at singing. I should be famous. Hermione the Hair-Monster isn't going to famous. Comparing her to me makes me feel so good about myself.
I'm listening out for Hermione being immature, screaming, crying and throwing things. I poke my head into several classrooms. Nada. There's only one left in the corridor, I'm going to give up after this one. Harry can fend for himself.
I open the door, "Oh Harry! Are you in-" My voice fails me as I see a horrible sight. They were snogging.
I'm screaming. I'm crying. I'm pretty sure I just threw a chair. "Harry how could you! I trusted you! I loved you! And you went off with her just before we were going to get back together! You were meant to play with my jiggle bells-"
"Her what?"
"-You know I planned our wedding since I was eight! Eight! That's a long time to stay loyal to you! Sure I had a few boyfriends, but that's nothing compared to you going off with her! I made a life size sculpture of you out of macaroni when I was twelve! I still have it up in my room!"
"I told you it looked like you," the demon from hell whispered. Harry was staring at me with his mouth open.
"I even made you your own hand and picture for when Mum puts you on the family clock when we get married! Did I mention I planned our wedding since I was eight! Even before I met you I knew we were meant to be! That's love Harry! I knew everything about you! That's love! We're going to have three kids! James after your father! Albus after Dumbledore! And Lily after your mother! I LOVE YOU! Now I'm going to give you a choice here. Forget this little accident with the lip-locking with her and come marry me or stay with that."
"Ginny…" Here it was coming. He was going to fall on his knees begging for forgiveness. I'll hesitate before saying 'I can never stay mad at you.' And then he'll have sex with me then and there right in front of The Slut.
"Yeah Harry," I say, sad and breathless.
"I've been fucking Hermione for two months now."
My mouth falls open, "But I made a list!"