Harry and Ginny

Strange Behaviour

Disgusting. Repugnant. Sickening. Any synonym for shameless and nauseating would be appropriate enough for those two. Honestly, I can't believe they've been dubbed the Hogwarts couple of the year, right after that revolting-and-very-public snog they shared in the Great Hall in front of everyone. In front of me.

Bloody hell, I hate Ravenclaws.

Well, not all Ravenclaws. I like most of them, even Luna Lovegood (and that's saying something). It's just those two that I despise. Well, I don't like that Marietta girl one bit, but I don't despise her as much as her friend. Dammit, they've made me cast out my anger on a fine house (if they were in Slytherin it would be a different story—I hate that house to bits).

I suppose it wasn't enough for her to take away the affections of Har—ahem—of almost every boy in Hogwarts that still have blood rushing through their veins. It wasn't enough for her to be one of Hogwarts' most alluring floozies and to have the most dashing boys waiting at her every move. Oh no, she had to take Corner.

Not that I still liked him or anything. But for once, just once, I wanted a boy that was of my territory. Not another one of those hypnotized by the Siren of Ravenclaw, bloody Cho Chang.

I watched in seething anger as students around them applauded their new-found relationship. Why where the rest of them so surprised? I mean, this was bound to happen, wasn't it? Two selfish gits who can't think of anyone but themselves. Annoyed, I stood up abruptly and walked out of the Great Hall, gaining stares from some third years.

Trudging up the stairway on my way to the Common Room when I bumped into Neville and Luna, who seemed to be in deep conversation. I apologized profusely to them, but I really shouldn't have bothered. They probably didn't even notice me.

Was I that plain? Was I that plain that people see right through me like glass? And I thought my fiery red hair and despicable freckles were the things that made me stand out. Grumbling the password to the Fat Lady (I've always wondered if she had a proper name), I pushed my way through the portrait hole, muttering profanities under my breath. Unfortunately it wasn't as quiet as I wanted it to be.

"Bloody hell, Ginny! Spit out those words right away!" exclaimed Ron. I shrugged, "Whatever."

I was about to resume walking to my dormitory when I noticed that Harry and Hermione were huddling close to Ron. My eyebrows were high as I came towards them. I noticed Ron holding a book, which struck me as odd.

"What's this?" I asked, snatching the book away from Ron. "A bit of light-reading? Well done, Hermione, you've gotten him to do homework. 'Romeo and Juliet'? I doubt this is for Transfigurations now, is it?"

Ron snatched the book back, red in the face, "It's not mine, it's Hermione's. For Muggle Studies. Alright there, Ginny?"

Harry's eyes caught mine, and he was showing pure concern. I gave him a small smile, thanking Merlin for our new found friendship. The past year, we have been closer than before. Not only because of our common experiences together (the Chamber, Ministry of Magic), but also because we feel left out of Ron and Hermione's new relationship. He opened up to me (after forcing it out of him) more about his thoughts, about Sirius and even about You-Know-Who. I became his friend.

Then I frowned, remembering the incident that took place before, "Yes, I'm fine. Why wouldn't I be?"

"We heard what happened downstairs—in the Great Hall," said Hermione, who was fiddling with the hem of her skirt tentatively. Honestly, it wasn't as if I was going to bite. Well, maybe I would, given the right circumstances.

"Oh, that," I muttered, taking a seat beside Ron and Hermione. Harry was sitting rather stiffly on his chair, watching my every move. I rolled my eyes, "Honestly, just drop the subject. I don't really care if Corner's snogging Cho to bits in the Great Hall, Actually, I'm quite relieved I left early before I could witness that. Now, why are you reading this 'Romeo and Juliet'?"

"My Muggle Studies teacher wants us to pick a certain literary genre, and I picked romance. Thus these books. They're fascinating, really!"

Hermione passed me the book. I opened it and found all sorts of nonsense inside. Well, to me it was nonsense, with all the gibberish and the mushy lovey-dovey crap. Bunch of cobblers, I say. I sighed, "Codswallop, these romance novels."

Ron, Hermione and Harry gaped at me. Harry coughed, "Excuse me?"

"Well, it is. I mean, do you actually think this nutter—what's his name—Romeo? Yeah, Romeo—would kill himself because his lover is pretending to be dead? I mean, in real life, like now, he would probably run away with some other girl he fancies. And Juliet, she'd probably run off with another bloke too after seeing Romeo's corpse," I said nonchalantly as if we were merely discussing the next Hogsmeade trip.

Hermione frowned, "Ginny, you know that's not true. There are some men in this world that will stay true to you, no matter what."

I snorted, "Yes, there are. Except they are too thick to understand what's going on."

My eyes grazed Harry, who seemed completely oblivious to what I was saying. Then I waved my comment away with my freckled hands, as if it was a fly, "Anyway people are weird when they are in love."

"Really?" Harry asked, his dark eyebrows raised. I nodded, "They'll be all over each other, thinking about each other all day, even doing the most ridiculous things you can imagine."

Ron chortled, "Like what, sending singing Valentines?"

I frowned, seized a cushion and aimed for Ron, who dodged it. Hermione hissed at him while Harry turned a few shades darker.

"That's different," I muttered, flipping my crimson hair behind my shoulders. Hermione sighed, "What makes you say all those who are in love are weird?"

"They just are!" I exclaimed, "I mean, honestly, you can't put your life on hold for only one person can you? Love can do many strange things to people. Like snogging in front of everyone in the Great Hall, for example. A bit tacky to show your affections in public, don't you think?"

"Love can do strange things to people, I agree," said Harry, "but strange can be good."

I held up a finger, "And bad."

"But it's for the better," Harry continued. I shook my head, "Pish posh. I don't really care. All that I'm saying is that people who are in love are weird. Look at Ron and Hermione—

Ron's ears went bright pink and Hermione sank into her seat. "—they've not quarreled for days. Ron is doing his homework, and Hermione is doing less of it! Plus, they do go on more prefect duties than needed."

"Sod off, Gin," Ron murmured, "Besides, you were pretty weird on your first year yourself."

Either my ears were playing a joke on me, or I heard Harry gulp. He caught my eye and we remained like that for a second, until Ron started to speak again.

"You were very—uh—weird—for a lack of better term. All the blushing, squealing, ranting on and on about a certain boy…I almost thought someone was impersonating my baby sister!"

"First off, that happened when I was very young. And secondly, I'm not your baby sister!" I interrupted, feeling my face grow hot.

"Er—maybe you should lay off that subject, Ron," Harry warned, glancing at me with a concerned expression. Hermione kept quiet, not wanting to interrupt one of our blossoming quarrels.

Ron ignored Harry, "Yes, you are still my baby sister. Like you said, love does strange things to people. And you are the perfect example for it. You came in here all angry and stuff because you've witnessed love—however despicable it is. You were like that because, if I'm not wrong, you still very much like Corner."

"I do not like Michael! It's much more complicated than that, but I don't think you'd understand, really, Ronald Weasley, since you've got—and I quote—an emotional range of a teaspoon! And I'm not exaggerating!" I shrieked, standing up and walking out of the portrait hole.

For the third time that day I was humiliated and angered, and I was beginning to wonder if the world was against me today, or God thought it would be amusing for me to be provoked and all riled up. Bumping into a few third years, I trudged my way outside.

I ran towards the Great Lake, my heart pounding faster. What do they know about me? Nobody knows who I am. Not Ron, not Hermione, not Michael and especially not Harry. I picked up a flat rock and threw it aggressively onto the lake, making large ripples around it. All I wanted was for someone to understand me, and like me for who I am. Not because I was Ron Weasley's baby sister. Not because I looked pretty—which I highly doubted. I had found that someone once, way back in my first year. He seemed to be heaven-sent, and he was my best friend. If only he wasn't purely evil and twisted in the mind, he would have been great. He would have been my best friend. But no, he only used me to get to Harry, to petrify all those poor people.

I took a deep breath and released all of my pent up anger in one hair-raising shriek, not caring if anyone thought I was seriously deranged. I did it a few more times until I was out of breath. Hearing a few murmurs, I turned around and glared at a few students who were passing by and staring at me as if I've grown another head on my right shoulder.

"Take a bloody picture, it'll last longer!" I hollered, turning back to the lake. Then there Harry was, standing right in front of me. He grinned, "Oh I would take a picture, but I don't think you'll turn out pretty with a frown like that."

I scrunched my nose, "What do you want? Did Ron ask you to run after me? Then tell him, I don't need an escort to ventilate my angry feelings!"

"Ventilate all your feelings you want, Ginny, but I didn't come here under Ron's commands. I came here as your friend," said Harry, his bright green eyes filled with concerned. I snorted, "Friend? You, me? Friends? Harry, you're only friends with me because I'm Ron's sister."

"That's true," he said thoughtfully. "But I've gotten to know you better. Honestly, if I found you as bad as Malfoy, do you think I'd come running after you like this? I'm your friend, Ginny."

"Save your noble sentiments for the next fan-girl you come across, Harry Potter," I reply coldly, walking away from him. I really didn't mean to be so mean to Harry, but I was angry. And when I was angry, I was angry. Harry began to run after me, but I kept walking briskly.

"Gin, this is about Michael corner and Cho, isn't it?" said Harry.

Damn, he hit the nail on the head. Why was he so perceptive and smart and handsome and bloody hell, Ginny! Stop it!

"Oh no, Potter, you've got it wrong!" I lied, "It's not about Michael and Cho. Actually, it's only about Cho, if you wanted to know. It's only about pretty girl, Cho Chang."

That bloody floozy…got my blood boiling.

"What—you fancy her? Why, I never thought you swing that way, Ginny!" said Harry. I stopped abruptly and stared daggers at him. How could he joke at a time like this? Wait, was he even joking?

"That's not funny."

Harry chuckled, "Sorry, I couldn't help myself. So what's this about Cho? What's she done to you?"

I stared at him, arms folded across my chest, "Well, for one, she humiliated me in front of everyone earlier today, she stole my boyfriend by not catching the Snitch—which was just under her nose! What was she trying to do, look pretty as a Seeker? And lastly, she stole the hearts of every boy I fancied. Bloody hell, she might as well steal my future husband!"

Pushing back my hair again, I began to walk briskly away from Harry, who I did not dare look at. Once again, he ran after me.

"Ginny," he called, "Ginny."

He grabbed my elbow and turned me to make me face him. I sighed, "What?"

"You're right about many things, Ginny. Cho Chang did steal my heart, but she sort of threw it back to me…after that horrible date in Madam Puddifoot's. So I don't like her anymore, no matter how pretty and good she is at Quiddi—

"You call that floozy's Quidditch skills good?!" I interrupted. Harry gave me a look. I gave him a small smile, "Sorry."

"Anyway, I don't like her anymore, but that doesn't mean I don't like anyone. And that's another thing you are right about—

"You're weird, Potter," I said, not being able to bear it anymore. Honestly, he came here only to brag about his new found crush? Who was it this time? Another skank like Cho? Lavender Brown, perhaps?

"Exactly!" exclaimed Harry. I shook my head at him. He was hopeless…too bad I liked him that much. Yes, I still liked him, if it wasn't obvious.

"I'm acting weird. Do you know why?" Harry asked. I raised an eyebrow, "Because your brooms riding up your—

"No," Harry butted in before I could finish my sentence. Er, good choice. "I'm acting weird because I think I'm in love."

"Brilliant!" I exclaimed, shaking his hand, "Good luck with her. Why don't you run along and tell her your feelings instead of talking to me?"

Note sarcasm there.

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Ginny Weasley, you're one of a kind. You're always putting people in front of you."

"Oh no, no, no, no, Mr. Potter, that's your job. Being the noble hero you are and all," I retorted. Harry grinned, making my stomach lurch. Damn it, I thought I've hidden those 'Harry Feelings' deep within me. How he could fish it out in a snap was still a mystery to me.

"Ginny, you never shut up, do you?" asked Harry. My eyes grew as big as saucers, "I've never been insulted so much in my life!"

Harry threw up his hands, defeated. He sighed and run his hand through his ever-so-messy hair. "Bloody hell, Ginny, can't a man tell you how he feels?"

"As a matter of fact…what?" I replied, suddenly feeling utterly foolish for being so defensive. "Y-You are telling me how you feel about me?"

"Yes," Harry said, his voice becoming softer, "I was trying to tell you that I think I like you—a lot. You've been a good friend to me the past year, and you help me through the darkest days of my life. You don't seem to care that I'm moody and I have a hot temper. And I—it's okay if you don't like me back, I understand, but I just wanted to tell you that. And if by any chance—which I think is highly unlikely—that you like me, I would be honored if I could share a day with you in Hogsmeade tomorrow. J-just the two of us—I mean if that's alright with you and all."

Out of all the overwhelming elements of the situation, I find myself holding back the laugh. It wasn't because I was laughing at his face for telling me how he felt. I was laughing because of mere happiness that I couldn't suppress and the irony of it all. For many years, I've waited for this moment, and just a few seconds ago I was throwing him off, trying to pry him off me while he told me he liked me. I looked back at him, and a flicker of fear and pain showed through his eyes. I immediately stopped laughing.

"I understand," he said softly, beginning to walk away. I grabbed his hand, preventing him from walking away.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have laughed. I just thought it was ironic how you fitted my description of people's behaviour when they are in love. And, if I'm not wrong, I think I'm very weird too, laughing at you like that. So I think you know what I mean," I said, squeezing Harry's hand. Harry looked at me, uncertain whether to believe me or not.

"If you haven't noticed," I added, "When I'm around you, I'm strange. When without you, I'm worse than strange. I'm in love…with you."

"Really?" asked Harry, who was smiling from ear to ear. I nodded. Harry's grin became wider as he kissed me on the cheek. I grinned sheepishly, "What? No snogging?"

Harry chuckled, "Do you mind if we save it for a special moment?"

I smiled and kissed his cheek back, "Sure."

"It doesn't strike you as odd?" Harry asked. I laughed, "No, Harry. I understand. Besides, you know how people act when they're in love."

Review if you like! Might do one in Harry's own perspective.