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Summary: A momentary lapse
in concentration leads to a stressful few days for Harry Potter.
Category: Comedy
Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK
Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books,
Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being
made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
There was a loud, aching
silence. Harry felt like a snitch
waiting to be released from the case at the start of a match. Why didn’t Ron respond, react, hit him,
whatever? His pent up feelings were going to burst out regardless in a minute.
Then, to his absolute shock, he realised Ron was laughing.
“Don’t be daft,” Ron
spluttered, “why on earth would Ginny wear a bra? She’s too young”. Harry
sighed. This was going to be harder than
he thought. How could he convince Ron that
his sister needed to wear a bra without it ending up with Ron beating the crap
out of him for noticing that she might wear one?
Ron sobered instantly,
and stared at Harry. Harry stared at
the bra. Then he looked up at Ron. Neither of them seemed to want to be the
first to speak, and a difficult silence descended between them.
Then, predictably, they
both began together:
“I think you’d better
….”
“Ron, I can explain”
They both stopped. Ron stood up and faced Harry, folding his
arms across his chest. “Go on then.”
Harry swallowed audibly
and stood too. Choosing the right words
here was going to be more important than getting his potions homework correct.
Running a hand
distractedly through his unruly mop of hair, Harry started to pace to and fro.
“I don’t know where to
start. I’m worried you won’t hear me
out,” he confessed, pausing and casting Ron a quick glance. Ron’s stance was not encouraging. Harry renewed his pacing.
“Try me, maybe there’s a
simple explanation.” Ron sounded rather sceptical.
So Harry began. He told
Ron how he came to be in possession of the bra and how he had tried to return
it on the first night. He told him how
he’d found out whose bra it was and how he had tried to return it again.
“You’ve been spending
too much time with Hermione – that explanation’s far too logical!”
Harry glanced up at Ron
and was relieved to see he was almost smiling; almost.
“Ron, I’m sorry, but it
was really just a freaky sort of accident.
I don’t know how it happened and then there was this ridiculous series
of events that stopped me putting it right.
It was like my worst nightmare,” and at Ron’s raised eyebrow, “well,
perhaps my second worst nightmare”.
“Well, I’ll have to
admit it does seem more believable than what’s been going through my mind for
the last ten minutes!” Ron admitted with a short laugh.
Harry looked puzzled.
“Well, Harry, mate,
after your ditherings over asking Cho Chang to the ball last year I was
astounded you’d managed this year to get that far with a girl. I thought you
must have concocted some potion, or something!” and he ducked as Harry flung
his pillow across the dorm at him.
“One more thing …. “
Harry looked down at the offending item once more, “I still need to return it,
without her knowing I’ve had it. How do
I do that?”
Ron sighed.
“I’ll do it. What are brothers for if not to protect
their younger siblings from people with underwear fetishes.” And he ducked
again as Harry threw a shoe at him.
Harry was so relieved
that Ron believed him. He walked over
and handed the bra to Ron, who quickly dropped it onto his bedside table.
“I’ll put it back later,
get Hermione to distract her or something”.
Harry nodded, relieved
it was no longer his problem but horrified to realise that hard on this thought
came another – he was a little disconcerted to realize he was going to miss the
bra – they’d been through such a lot together.
He wondered if he might see it again, and then blushed furiously at the
audacity of such a thought. Ron would
punch him if he could read his mind.
Hell, never mind Ron, Ginny would kill him, no questions asked.
And what would Ron say
if he told him he wanted to ask Ginny to the ball? He had absolutely no idea how he would react, whether he would be
pleased, or annoyed. Harry took a steadying breath. It was now - or never – and never was a hell of a long time.
“Ron, there’s one more
thing.”
Ron gave him a piercing
look.
“You haven’t got
anything else of hers hidden away, have you?
Because if you have …”
“No!” Harry shouted.
“No, nothing like that”, he tried to stay calm. Somehow, earlier, this had seemed the easier hurdle. Now he was not so sure.
“I want your Ginny, er,
I mean your sister, who is Ginny, of course, you know that,” Harry wondered
briefly what had happened to his speech co-ordination.
“Spit it out Harry! Next thing you’ll be telling me you want to
take her to the ball.” Ron, with his
uncanny ability to state the obvious, was amused.
“I do!”
Ron blinked rapidly.
“Sorry?”
“er – I do – want to
take Ginny – to the ball – with me”.
“Well, you can’t!”
“Why not?”
“Oh no. Harry, that’s not on.” Ron was shaking his
head from side to side, as if trying to clear it.
“But last year you told
me to go with her! It was just that she
had another date already.”
“That’s different. This time you want to go with her.”
“But you didn’t mind
Neville asking her, and she was a year younger then.”
“No, well, what was the
worst Neville could do? Forget to turn up?”
“What do you mean?
What’s the worst I could do?”
“Well, I dunno – until
recently not a lot, but now, well - you do steal bras, mate”.
Harry mouthed
soundlessly for a second, then realized Ron was kidding and made a dive for
him. Anticipating the reaction, Ron
rolled off his bed and stood on the other side, laughing at Harry sprawled over
his covers.
“OK,” Harry stood up too
and straightened his robes. “So, do you
have a problem with my asking Ginny to the ball?” He waited anxiously. Ron
was his best friend and his opinion really mattered. He just hoped that their opinions would be the same on this
occasion.
Eventually, Ron sighed
in frustration and ran a hand through his hair.
“Look, Harry, you are my
best mate and all, but she is my sister, my only sister, my little
sister, and I don’t want her to get hurt.
Nothing Neville could do would hurt her, but you… you’re different.”
“Neville did hurt her,”
Harry muttered under his breath, “he trod on her feet repeatedly.”
“What was that?” Ron
asked.
“Nothing, nothing at
all. Look, why do you think I’m going
to hurt her? I care very much about your family, you know I do. I would never
do anything to deliberately hurt Ginny or anyone else who goes by the name of
Weasley.”
Ron breathed out
heavily. “Harry, it’s not that I expect
you to hurt her. It’s just that I think you encouraging her might lead her to
hurt herself”.
Harry felt his heart
skip a beat… did Ron mean that Ginny still had… But then, Harry could feel the
bottom dropping out of his world. Ron
was serious; he really felt it wasn’t a good idea. His face must have shown some of his thoughts, for Ron added,
“Harry, I don’t want you
to use her just for a date. She could
read more into it and then get upset when it’s just that – a date”.
Harry looked at Ron in
amazement. “Is that what you think?
That I think asking Ginny is the easy way to a date for the ball?”
“You mean it isn’t?”
“Ron, you can be a thick
prat at times,” Harry replied.
“Gee, thanks.”
“I want to ask Ginny to
the ball because … oh God”, now it was Harry’s turn to run his hand through his
already untidy hair, “I …. I fancy her.”
Ron looked like he might
be sick.
“No, I’m sorry if you
hate the idea, Ron, but I really do like her, and I want more than a date. What
I mean is, I’d like to go out with her.”
Part of him felt really bad that he was telling Ron this before
discussing it with Ginny herself. It
didn’t seem right somehow.
“You would?” Ron was
incredulous. “So why didn’t you say so
in the first place?”
Harry groaned. “Ron, do you always have to make things this
difficult?”
Ron grinned at him,
“Maybe. Just one further question
though. How are you going to ask her?”
“Huh?” Harry glanced at
Ron with a mixture of hope and confusion on his face.
“OK, OK.” Ron paced up and down. “Look – I remember how hard you found it to
ask Cho last year. Hell, why do you
think I know you had a bra in your pocket for completely innocent
reasons? You’re not exactly brimming in
confidence where girls are concerned, are you?”
Harry looked at Ron; Ron
looked at Harry. They both blushed
faintly. This was not the sort of
conversation either of them was comfortable having.
“I, er, I don’t
know. Trouble is, I like Ginny so much
– Cho, well, she was very pretty, still is very pretty – but with Ginny there
is so much more. I mean, I know her as
a person, and I like her as a person just as much as I like the way she
looks. So it makes it even harder ….
because I want her to say yes so much more.”
Harry was starting to feel ill.
Perhaps he could go to the hospital wing for the rest of his life, then
he’d never have to face situations like this ever again.
Ron deliberated for a
few seconds, watching Harry through narrowed eyes
“Harry, this is Ginny
we’re talking about. Remember? She’s always had a thing for you.” Ron
paused, lost in thought. “It will make
her so happy,” he said, so quietly that Harry couldn’t quite catch the
words. He walked over to Harry, easily
recognising the dejected look on his face, the droop of his shoulders as he sat
back down on his bed. “Look, I don’t
have a problem with it, OK? It’s just
…. just a little weird, that’s all.”
Harry slowly looked up
at him. “You … you mean it?”
“That it’s a little
weird? Yeah! My best mate and my little sister! But I would be lying if I said
it hadn’t crossed my mind. I just
didn’t want to accept that it had crossed my mind – as a possibility, I
mean. You do realize that you’ll be in
for a lot of stick from Fred and George?
I mean, you do remember the valentine incident, don’t you? They let that run and run and run”.
Harry grimaced. How could he forget that valentine
incident? And yet he wouldn’t put it
past Fred and George to be the ones who sent it; after all, Ginny had never
said that she did, that had been Malfoy’s assumption, and let’s face it, Malfoy
was a git.
“OK, I’ll ask her, at
least, as soon as I get chance to get her alone I will. And Ron?”
Ron raised his eyebrow
in question.
“When are you going to
ask Hermione?” Revenge is SO sweet, thought Harry.
Ron turned pink
immediately and turned back to own his bed, thumping the pillows and needlessly
smoothing his bedspread.
“Ron,” Harry addressed
the tips of Ron’s pink ears, “She knows you fancy her.”
Ron spun round, a look
of sheer horror on his face.
“What? How … I mean, I
don’t … do I?” he looked panic-struck.
“Oh, God,” he groaned, his face in his hands and he sank onto the edge
of the bed.
“So, what are you going
to do about it?” Harry was feeling rather brave now he had cleared the air with
Ron over Ginny, like he was in control again.
The bra issue was over; Ron had approved his dating Ginny, and all that
remained was asking her. Harry pushed
away the slight feeling of panic that fluttered through his stomach at the thought. He’d be fine. He was, after all, a Gryffindor.
Meanwhile, Ron was
peering up at him through his fingers.
“Do? Do I have to do anything?”
“Well,” said Harry
slowly, drawing on his own recent memories of how he was feeling, “how will it
feel if someone else takes her to the ball again this year?”
The look that crossed
Ron’s face was enough confirmation for Harry that he was experiencing exactly
the same emotions Harry had at the thought of not asking Ginny in time.
“How did she work it out?”
Ron croaked. “How could she know before
I knew?”
Harry laughed. “Ron, Hermione is the cleverest witch of our
time, how could she not tell? She knew
Professor Lupin was a werewolf before anyone else did; she knew Rita Skeeter
was an unregistered animagus before anyone else did. She’s no fool when it comes to sussing people out.” Ron had gone
very pale, only the cut on his forehead still stood out red and angry.
“Remember that row you
had last year, straight after Yule Ball?” and at Ron’s nod, “What do you think
she meant? She knew then that your
problem with Krum was jealousy, even though you didn’t have a clue”.
Ron gulped. “Harry”, he
whispered, “how am I going to do it?
How can I ask her?”
Harry laughed
humourlessly. “You’re asking me? I’m hardly a good example, am I?”
*****
Dinner time was
approaching. Harry watched Ron cleaning
up his wound at the mirror, his mind a chaotic jumble from all the issues they
had just aired. If this was what growing
up meant, you could keep it, thank you very much, thought Harry. Look at the state Ron was in over Hermione
and he was no better, battling over how to ask Ginny to the ball as if it was
some kind of impossible challenge.
“Well, I dunno about
you”, Ron said, giving his hair a final pat and turning away from the dresser,
“but I’m getting hungry. You coming to
eat?”
Harry sighed and gave
Ron a despairing look.
Ron understood. “Look, Harry, you just have to do it,
right? If you really want to ask her to
the ball, do it – before someone else does.” Harry raised an eyebrow at Ron.
“Yeah, I know. I need to take a
dose of my own medicine. Alright,
alright, I’ll ask Hermione ….” He gulped and went slightly pink “I’ll ask her
tonight … somehow”.
“Fine, fine” Harry
agreed. “I’ll be down soon, you go on
and I’ll catch you up when I’ve changed.”
Harry buried his head in
his trunk, searching for his jeans, as Ron crossed the room slowly.
“Oh and Ron? Don’t
forget you said you’d do something with that … thing … bra,” Harry added
quickly.
“Don’t panic,
Harry. Consider it done.” Ron said over
his shoulder, as he reached the door.
Harry wished he could
feel so sure, but there was something a little unsettling about Ron’s
appraising look and the spark of … something … in his eye. For a fleeting moment, he could see clearly
that Ron was Fred and George’s kid brother.
Harry quickly washed and
changed his clothes and sat back on the bed to tie his shoelaces. He needed to get down to dinner; perhaps a
full stomach would give him some initiative where Ginny was concerned. Within seconds of this thought, however,
footsteps could be heard outside the door and with a hesitant knock, someone
started to push it open. Ginny herself
stood on the threshold, looking both nervous and confused.
“Ron said you wanted to
see me about something?”’
Harry felt his stomach
dip alarmingly. He didn’t know whether
to be grateful to Ron, for being as good as his word so promptly, or to
strangle him for making Harry face his fear so soon after their own
confrontation.
“Er … yeah. I did … I mean, I do”. Harry stood up and Ginny walked cautiously
across the room, coming to a halt a few paces from him. She was blushing faintly but kept her eyes
fixed on Harry.
Harry looked unseeingly
into the empty space over her shoulder and fought for something to say, some
way to lead the conversation up to what he wanted to ask her.
‘Just do it, moron’
screamed an inner voice somewhere in his brain.
“Harry?” Ginny’s voice
wavered slightly. “What is it?”
Harry’s green eyes
returned to her face.
“I just … er … I…” Harry
paused and swallowed with difficulty; then he took a deep breath. He could do this, he had to do this.
He stared down into
Ginny’s big, brown eyes and took comfort from the friendliness in them. Ginny liked him; he knew it, Ron knew
it. He just hoped she still liked him
…. like that.
“Ginny, I was wondering
…. If you aren’t already …. I mean, I’d like ….. would you ….” As Harry
stuttered his way through 101 Ways to Phrase a Simple Question, a look of hope
seemed to creep across Ginny’s face.
Harry had stopped again,
staring transfixed at Ginny. She was
smiling at him. Harry couldn’t help
himself, he grinned back at her, sheepishly.
Feeling suddenly very
brave, he realised he had got the courage to do what he knew was
right.
“Ginny, will you go to
the ball with me?”
Ginny stared up at
Harry, saying nothing. He gazed back, trying to show through his eyes how much
he liked her, and how much he had wanted her to say ‘yes’ to his question.
Despite his lack of
experience in such matters, Harry decided he must have got something right,
because Ginny smiled tremulously up at him until she was positively
beaming. She said, “Thank you for asking me.
It’s the nicest question I’ve ever been asked and yes, I’d love to go
with you to the ball.”
Harry was just making a
mental note to buy Ron the largest bag of sweets he would carry on the next
Hogsmeade visit, when he saw a frown cross Ginny’s face. She glanced quickly up at him, then back
over his shoulder; then she asked in a questioning voice:
“Harry?”
“Er … yes?”
"Why have you got
my bra laid out across your pillow?”