|| enlightening | harry, hermione, ron

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #b6999a solid; border-bottom: 10px #b6999a solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 958 ( TAGGED ) HARRY, HERMY, RON More than once, Ginny had thought to consult Neville about fanged geranium in the hopes that he would assist her in writing her essay. Instead, she found herself in the library on Saturday scanning through the various books related to Herbology. All of their spines were in decent condition, showing minor rips and tears here and there. It was obvious Herbology had been, in the past, a relatively decent subject to study, though Ginny could hardly find the appeal. She preferred more magical subjects, including Charms and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Though, due to Hagrid, Care of Magical Creatures hadn’t been bad. Running her finger across the titles of the various books before her, Ginny found herself abandoning her work for more immediate thoughts – namely, Harry . . . and also Hermione and Ron. They’d disappeared without so much as a word to her beforehand, and though she had stayed strong in their absence, it had still terrified her. With so many deaths having occurred just months ago of students and staff alike, at Hogsmeade, now was definitely not the time to disappear without an explanation. Vaguely, Ginny registered a sense of betrayal and anger flare up before she banished it, forcing herself to focus on the words marking the textbooks before her. So much had been happening at Hogwarts this year, she couldn’t help but relate it to the chaotic mass of months her first year had been. Closing her eyes, Ginny took a deep breath, yanked a book from the shelf at random, and then turned around to seat herself at the dark brown table before her. Flipping open the book, she realized, with a frustrated little sigh, that she’d taken a first year Herbology book. Silently, she turned around, forced herself up, and replaced the book. After a few moments, she fingered out a book more appropriate and set it back on the table behind her. She then confirmed that it contained information about fanged geranium and then promptly shut it, placing her arms on top of it, followed by her head. She desperately wanted to go and seek out Ron, demanding an explanation for their disappearance, but she didn’t for the sheer fact that Harry had been gone too. She could almost convince herself to go to him, seeking answers, but was mildly fearful of his rejection. Her red hair had spilled out around her on the table, and through half-closed eyes, she stared at it. For a moment she allowed her mind to go blank and could almost feel exhaustion from thinking too much pull her under. Then, suddenly, she sat up smiled. She was allowing herself to feel self-pity, and she hated herself for that. Picking up the textbook, Ginny vacated the table and headed towards the librarian’s desk to take the book out. The whole way, her mind sporadically flickered between Herbology, Ron, and Harry. It always circled back to Harry though, to which she fought to keep a straight face. She hadn’t really ever given up on Harry, though within the past few years she’d taken Hermione’s advice to move on and be herself. Obviously, she had learned to relax more around the boy, but she simply couldn’t help that certain thump the always announced his presence within her chest. Biting her lip absently, she placed the textbook upon the desk, waiting to be allowed to leave. It wasn’t until Madam Pince gave her an odd look that she remembered students couldn’t check out library textbooks. They were resources, and therefore stayed within the library walls. Closing her eyes in silent inner rage, Ginny recognized her mistake and took the book back. She’d forgotten to bring parchment and a quill, thinking she would write the essay in the Gryffindor Common room. Normally this wouldn’t have been a problem if she hadn’t loaned her textbook to one of her friends, who’d lost theirs. Silently, Ginny slid the textbook back in place, making a mental note of the title so that she could come back later and find it again. After replacing it, Ginny turned and made her way outside of the library, all the while mentally raging at her own carelessness. The world seemed to fade into a blur around her as she allowed her thoughts to take over, making her way down the hall purely on instincts. She knew, subconsciously, where she was going, for she’d been to the fourth floor many times in her four and a half years at Hogwarts. Consciously, though, she found herself making a list of what needed to be done. She must go back to the Gryffindor tower and retrieve her materials, and then she must return to write the page-length essay Professor Echo had assigned them for homework. After that, depending on when she finished, she needed to seek out Ron, because she knew he, at least, could be tricked into revealing something. She hadn’t the heart to trick information out of Harry, and she knew it. The sun was setting fast, and Ginny then remembered the student curfew that would interrupt her plans. She had maybe a few hours before she would be stuffed back into the common room alongside all of her house-mates, making it hard to concentrate. Tomorrow was always an option, and an obvious one at that. For some reason, she’d nearly forgotten today was Saturday. Nearly everything seemed to slip her mind recently. As she continued to walk, her robe flowing gently behind her, Ginny completely missed another set of footsteps approaching her, her head slightly tipped down, her eyes on the floor. There was something to be said for heavy and distracted thinking, and it was this mindset that made her run nearly headlong into Harry Potter. hope this was okay! i'll get better with her

table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 490px; height: 500px; background-color: #000000; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/6mnUt.jpg); border: 2px ridge #00A0E0; -webkit-border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px; border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px;] it’s a whiteout of emotion And I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall When the love in letters fade It's like moving in slow motion And we're already too late if we arrive at all And then we're caught up in the arms race---------------------------------------------- The past few weeks had been… hectic to say the least. Was it really that impossible to ask for one normal year at Hogwarts? Okay, he understood the fact that the entire wizarding world was resting on his shoulders. It was something he’d become intimately aware of his first year; even if he hadn’t known what the signs meant back then. It had been his first year at Hogwarts. And while a small part of him had come to recognize that not all first years had the wacky adventures he’d had, he hadn’t known what to truly expect. He’d only been back in the Magical world less than a year. It was all still so new to him. His second year, he was a bit more… educated about his world than before. And not just in the sense of his magical education. He knew enough his second year to realize that students his age… or even older for that matter… did not have to deal with everything he had. But he was still young, and much of the magical world – and his own life – was still a mystery to him. His third year was by far the closest thing to ‘normal’ has Harry had gotten. And as that had been the year they had shared the castle with Dementors, it was a sad acknowledgement in deed. But other than the dementors and the mysterious arrival of his new Firebolt, the year had progressed normally enough; up until Finals had ended. Really, he should have known it was too good to be true. But he’d gained something that year, which had made it all the more better. His fourth year had been the strangest by far. While the Quidditch World Cup had been fun, it had quickly turned to horror. He should have seen the events that were about to unfold. The nightmares he’d been having… the sudden appearance of the Death Eaters at the World Cup… It had been a precursor to everything that was about to unfold. But he had chosen to ignore them. And by the time he had acknowledged them and had sought help, it was too late. He was already two thirds into the Tri Wizard Tournament; tied for first place with Cedric Diggory. Then the maze, the cup, the graveyard. Cedric dying, the cauldron, Wormtail cutting his hand off: his own blood. Voldemort rising from the cauldron, Voldemort reborn. The Ensuing battle, the wands connecting, the images of those recently killed by Voldemort’s wand… His mother and father. It had all happened so fast. And before he knew it, he was being sent home on the train with the rest of the students as the year came to an end. But where had his fourth year ended and his fifth began? They ran into each other so much the lines were blurred. The nightmares, Dudley in the park, Dementors, his patronus. The expulsion letter, his retrieval from Number four Privet Drive, Grimmauld Place, Sirius. The Order of the Phoenix, his trial, Ron and Hermione’s Prefect badges, returning to Hogwarts. It had continued in this fashion all year. And with his ban from his only release – Quidditch – Harry had found himself sinking further and further into the pit of despair he’d found himself in. Nightmares, nightmares, nightmares, Mr. Weasley’s attack, Christmas, Sirius, He wasn’t possessed, he wasn’t the weapon. Dumbledore’s Army, learning, teaching, defending. But Umbridge wouldn’t have any of it. In her eyes and the Ministry’s eyes, there was nothing to worry about. There was nothing to be afraid of. Azkaban breakout, the DA getting caught, I must not tell lies, Dumbledore… gone. It had seemed for a long time that the Ministry had won. O.W.L.s, falling asleep, The Ministry, Sirius, Voldemort, Torture. Breaking into Umbridge’s Office, the Centaurs dragging her off into the forest. Neville, Luna, Ron, Hermione… Ginny. Risking everything to help him help Sirius. Lies, lies, lies. It had all been a trick to lure him out. To Grab the Prophecy. The Prophecy, Department of Mysteries, the fight, splitting up, Bellatrix Lestrange, Sirius, the Arch way. I’ll Kill her, I’ll kill her. She killed Sirius. Voldemort in the Ministry, Dumbledore’s return, Voldemort possessing him: accepting Death – seeing Sirius. It had been his love for his Godfather that had saved him. Or at least, that’s what Dumbledore had said. And just as quickly, that long, hard year had came to an end. The world knowing the truth. Voldemort was alive; he was back. His godfather’s name had been cleared too little too late. And he had finally learned the truth. The reason behind his scar, the bizarre connection he had with Voldemort. He’d finally learned the ugly truth that had been staring him in the face from the minute he’d chosen to accept his invitation back into the Magical World. And before he knew it, he was back at Grimmauld Place. But this year would see a shorter visit as he was quickly whisked away to The Burrow. Back to Ron and Hermione and Ginny. Back to where things made sense. Or at least, he had thought they had made sense. He’d found a new problem to deal with – both easier than what he had done in the past and yet so much harder than anything he’d ever pushed through. Ginny. She had started to open up around him in the past year or so. Talking more around him, hanging out with them more. He’d grown so used to her being around that he hadn’t noticed that small part of him that had always viewed her as a younger sister change and morph. And before he realized it, it was him sporting the crush, him unable to say what he wanted around her, him unsure of what to do or say. And he was scared. The only time he had felt this way about someone else, that person had used his feelings to push him further away. Cho had used his feelings for her to get closer to him only to discuss something Harry had wanted to forget. And while he knew Ginny would never do that to him, he was still afraid. Afraid for what his growing feelings for her meant and what they could possibly lead to. She was already in danger just for being his best friend’s sister. If Voldemort ever found out about his feelings for her… he would surely use it against him. But more than Voldemort finding out, Harry was terrified of Ron finding out. But the feelings had been easy to push back and suppress at the Burrow. It had only been when they had gotten back to Hogwarts that it had become harder. Seeing her with Dean… Never had Harry wanted to rip someone’s face off than he had Dean’s. Especially when he watched as Ginny sat crying in the corner after an argument. But back in Hogwarts, he had had other things to focus on. He had been made Quidditch Captain. He needed to make Quidditch practice – make sure the team was ready for the games. His lessons which had jumped significantly in their difficulty. The extra lessons with Dumbledore AND Snape. The battle of Hogsmeade had brought the world to a standstill. Hermione taken and tortured. He hadn’t even recognized his own torture; as painful as it had been, he’d had worse. Killing those Death Eaters had certainly thrown him through a mental breakdown of sorts, but he’d managed to pull himself back to the surface – probably faster and with more ease than he should have been allowed. Yet for a young boy of only Sixteen, Harry was not ignorant with the world around him. He’d been born under a shadow, and had lived his first year of life in hiding. And though he could not recall it, he had witnessed Death at the tender age of one, only to be reacquainted with Death ten short years later, and then every year after that. He’d learned to grow up to fast. Had to grow up to fast. And then he had been taken by the Castle, reunited with Ron who had gown missing a few weeks previously. He had been reunited with his parents; a bittersweet reunion had had possibly done more harm than good. Harry had never truly thought about the what if’s of his life. Sure, a few of them had started to crop up in his fifth year, and a few more even in the short few months of his sixth year. But it hadn’t been until he’d spent an hour with his parents that they had truly started to eat at him – tearing him apart from the inside out. He’d become moodier after his visit with his parents, preferring to sit alone and think things over. He’d attempted a few times to sit with Ron and Hermione and join in their conversations, but he slowly found himself falling back into that world of solitude he’d found had found himself in his Fifth year. And now they were back with the rest of the castle. And while it was imperative now more than ever that Harry try to get himself out of his rut, he found it harder to do so. Everywhere he looked, he saw people with someone to love them outside of school: outside of their friends. Parents, grandparents, aunts and Uncles. He knew if he actually spoke to someone about it, he’d probably feel better… but he didn’t want to confide in Ron or Hermione about it. They worried enough about him as it was. Remus would be the next best person to talk to, but talking about his parents with the older werewolf was difficult: as Remus still felt their loss fresh in his own heart. Running his hand through his hair with a sigh, Harry readjusted the strap of his bag on his shoulder as he turned the bend, his gaze directed to the windows of the corridor – overlooking the sea of white the grounds had turned into. He was so lost in his train of thought, he only noticed the person in front of him when their bodies collided. Quickly reaching out with both hands, Harry grasp two much small upper arms. And the wonderful flowery scent that sent his stomach into flips told him who he had run into before his eyes had timed to focus on them. “Ginny! You alright?”

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WORD: 1738
Outfit: CLICK
Muse: Miracle by Ilse de Lange
Tag: Ginny, Ron, Hermione

NOTE:
Holy Crap this was long…

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Lyrics: War by Poets of the Fall; Template by Paige @ CAUTION

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #b6999a solid; border-bottom: 10px #b6999a solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 678 ( TAGGED ) HARRY, HERMY, RON And, per usual, her heart trashed a wild greeting to Harry before she had time to really recognize his presence. Once moment, she’d been thinking of him, about school work, and Ron, and suddenly here he was. As if she’d conjured him with a spell rather than running into his by coincidence. When she’d walked straight into him, her forehead had nearly hit his nose, for they were just about the same height. With her head cast down, however, the point of impact had shifted. Stumbling backwards slightly, Ginny gasped in surprise, though was sure she hadn’t hit him hard enough to hurt him. The young Gryffindor was suddenly, painfully aware of Harry’s hands on her arms, causing her to stiffen slightly before forcing herself to relax. Just Harry, she chided herself. No big deal. When Ginny had confirmed that she had not been harmed, she looked up and met his eyes, flashing a friendly smile. Immediately she pushed all other concerns away as she basked in his presence, happy to have this random moment with him to herself. Again, her heart trashed before she forced it under control, her façade never faltering. ”Hello then Harry,” she said matter-of-factly, referring to their literal run-in. ”I’m fine. Are you?”

[/i] Before she could stop herself, she reached forward and gently brushed his nose with her first knuckle on her hooked index finger. When he didn’t jump from pain, she sighed softly and smirked.

”Heading to the library, Harry?” It was most definitely a stupid question, but she found that it stumbled out before she had a chance to think about it. She wanted to keep him here for a while, if only so that they could talk. The matter of his disappearance surfaced once more in her head after the initial shock, and, now that he was here, it suddenly didn’t seem like such a bad idea to demand answers from him. She had summoned her courage now, and wore it proudly across her features. ”If so, I think Madam Pince is in a bad mood.”[/i] It was a small lie, but she pulled it off brilliantly. The goal was to get him to walk with her back to the Gryffindor common room, perhaps getting some answers in the process. Besides, most the school knew how fierce Madam Pince could be when upset. So not worth it. ”Some first year Slytherins set off some of Fred and George’s wild-fire whiz-bangs earlier today, I heard.” To make the story believable, which didn’t need all that much convincing since it was something first year Slytherins might do, Ginny laughed good naturedly and added: ”I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so upset.”[/i] Brushing her long, mane-like red hair from her face and tucking it behind her head, Ginny turned her head slightly to look out the windows to her right. The sky had darkened even more than she had initially thought, causing her the grimace. She’d have no choice but to go back soon anyway, which also meant Harry wouldn’t either. Casting her gaze back at him, Ginny hesitated for a moment before grabbing his hand and pulling him gently back the way he’d come. While doing so, she’d turned around to watch his reaction before letting go.

”It’s getting late anyway. Walk with me back to the common rooms?”[/i] Her voice was gentle and soft, like it always was around Harry. Only her brothers and perhaps a few Slytherins knew how truly scary she could be. Truthfully, Ginny was surprised at her own courage, but was rather happy when he didn’t resist her. Smoothing her hair back behind her ear once more, she halted and looked back at him, waiting to see if he’d accompany her back. If he did, she would need to think of some coherent, formed questions soon. Despite the fact that the Gryffindor Common Room was located at the top of the school in a tower, giving them plenty of time to talk, she wanted to extract as much as she could before they were forced to part ways.

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shorter still : ( though i feel like i'm getting the hang of her!

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table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

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[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 490px; height: 500px; background-color: #000000; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/6mnUt.jpg); border: 2px ridge #00A0E0; -webkit-border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px; border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px;] it’s a whiteout of emotion And I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall When the love in letters fade It's like moving in slow motion And we're already too late if we arrive at all And then we're caught up in the arms race---------------------------------------------- This was his first run in with the youngest Weasley family member since his return back to the main castle. Usually when he had any type of interaction, it was with other students around or it was in passing. It was one of the few times that Harry really hated being a year above her – but there was nothing he could do about that. Well, he supposed he could fail on purpose and repeat the year… but honestly, there was only so much of the lessons he could take (and of people pointing and staring at him all day). Everyone in his year was used to him by now; they knew he was just Harry. But as far as the younger years were concerned, he was this mystical being come into existence. Also, failing a year meant being with Colin – and there was only so much of the younger boy Harry could handle. So failing was out of the picture. All he could hope to do was somehow catch her on her own and musk up the courage to talk to her – where had all that Gryffindor courage gone? oh, right, he’s using it to fight in a war he really has no business fighting in. And finding the only female Weasley alone was damn near impossible. He was usually accompanied by Ron or Hermione – or both, as they didn’t seem to trust him on his own – and she was usually accompanied by a group of friends. And on the rare occasions she wasn’t with a friend but he was with Ron and Hermione, it just seemed awkward with Ron standing there next to him. Because asking out your best mate’s little sister had to be against the rules. It just had to be. And if he was alone and she was with friends… the others tended to stare at him… which just made him all the more nervous to talk to her. But there was no one else in the halls. She was by herself, and he had someone managed to elude Ron and Hermione when he’d slipped out for his little evening walk. He gave her a small little smile as she brought her hand up to check his nose. “I’m good.” He said, suppressing the shivers that ran down his spine and threatened to send the small hairs on his neck on end. He let go of her, reaching up with his right hand to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose where they were supposed to sit. He shook his head slightly at her question. No, he hadn’t been on his way to the Library. Just walking, trying to get his head on straight – a feat that seemed more impossible to complete with each passing second. “When isn’t she in a bad mood? I swear, she only likes the Ravenclaws.” Madam Pince had to have been a Ravenclaw when she was in Hogwarts. It would explain a lot of things – other than their shared loved of books. “You should have been here a few weeks ago when I had my copy of my Potions book out. There’s writing all over the inside of it. Thought she was about to have a heart attack.” Well this was certainly not something he had envisioned himself talking to Ginny about if he’d ever had the chance. Of course, what he did envision usually showed a more self confidant him asking her out boldly and having her answer him with a kiss. Something that wasn’t about to happen because the mere thought of it seemed to have his stomach doing a weird jiggle. He blinked, turning slightly with her as she grabbed his hand and gently tugged at it to pull him back the way he’d come, as his fingers ever so slightly squeezed hers. His fingers twitched slightly at the loss of her warmth and he had to stop himself from reaching back out to grab her hand. At her soft command – because yes dammit, it was a command to him – Harry found himself moving towards her before he could even formulate the thought to send to his muscles. “So what’s happened in the castle the few weeks we’ve been gone?” He was truly curious how the castle took to the disappearances of more students. And he was vaguely wandering if that had been when her break up with Dean had been. He felt his heart beat flutter as his hand brushed against hers as they walked back towards the tower, Harry unconsciously taking slow, small steps to drag out the time. [style=width: 200px; height: 50px; text-transform: uppercase; background-color: #e0e0e0; color: #000000; line-height: 80%; font-size: 10px; font-family: tahoma; text-shadow: 1px 1px 2px #FFF; opacity: 0.7; overflow: auto; margin: 380px 0 0 5px; text-align: justify; border: 1px dashed #00A0E0; -webkit-border-radius: 30px; -moz-border-radius: 30px; border-radius: 30px; padding: 3px;] WORD: 0765 Outfit: CLICK Muse: Stay by Hurts Tag: Ginny, Ron, Hermione NOTE: lol this was small too [/style] Lyrics: War by Poets of the Fall; Template by Paige @ CAUTION

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #b6999a solid; border-bottom: 10px #b6999a solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 1112 ( TAGGED ) HARRY, HERMY, RON Ginny laughed lightly to Harry’s retorts about Madam Pince, for she knew them to be completely accurate and true. The librarian definitely treated Ravenclaw students with more kindness and favor, making it hard to believe she had ever been anything but. However, it was a shame that, if Madam Pince had really been a Ravenclaw, she had ended up a school librarian of all things. Ginny understood their love of books and knowledge, but one would think a Ravenclaw student would graduate and become some great, spell-inventing wizard or a professor of sorts. Even an author seemed more likely, though of course ambition was a trait that belonged to Slytherins more so than Ravenlaws- or, at least, the sorting hat liked to claim so every year. Harry’s lighthearted jokes about the librarian made his presence more real, and immediately she felt her heart race again. With force, she calmed her thoughts and emotions down. Her struggle to stay relaxed had always taken more effort when they were alone, though no one could really blame her. When the young Gryffindor had taken his hand to lead him back toward the common rooms, she, for a fraction of a second, registered that he had squeezed her hand before she’d let go. There was hardly time for controlled emotions now, for immediately she felt her face heat up with a slight blush. A happy little grin stole across her lips as she turned her head to look forward which, because she was leading slightly, obscured her face from sight for a moment or two. In these moments, she controlled her breathing and felt her face return to normal . . . she hoped. As soon as he’d conceded to follow her by way of moving in her indicated direction, Ginny smiled triumphantly and slowed so that he could walk beside her. His chosen subject was . . . actually quite useful. Of all the topics he could have chosen, he’d picked the one that was closest to her own questions, thus making the transition much smoother. Immediately, she felt her grin fall slightly, though she worked to plaster it back up again. She had no doubt, however, that he would have noticed. Mentally, she scolded herself for the slip up. It was true, however, that the past few weeks had been tough for her. Between losing many of her friends just months previous, and suddenly waking up only to be told her brother, best friend, and . . . well, Harry, were missing had been devastating. Anything could have happened to them, for Ginny knew they often went and did what they thought was necessary, regardless of the dangers. For the castle, however, life the past few weeks had been relatively normal. Dropping her gaze from his face to the floor in front of them, Ginny stopped moving and let the silence hang for a moment. She didn’t want to worry Harry, but he had to know the truth. It was apparent to those who knew her that Ginny was a skilled liar, but only when she needed to be. This was not one of those moments. ”Honestly, Harry . . .” she stuttered. She wasn’t going to cry, for she’d grieved already and was too prideful to cry in front of him; however, she felt horrible for all of the other students that were going through the same sort of loss she felt. ”A lot of the students walk around without their heads,”

[/i] she said quietly, looking up into his gaze once she’d finished. ”They still feel the loss of their friends and family.”[/i] Her voice had softened until it was just above a whisper. Subconsciously, she recognized footsteps echoing through the halls, coming toward them. As her voice faded, she concentrated harder, trying to figure out where they were coming from. Once she’d realized that she was doing this, she stopped talking and averted her gaze down the hallway, where she was not convinced they were coming from. The pace was almost leisurely, but not quite. It was almost surely a prefect coming to scold students about being out so close to curfew. With Ginny’s luck concerning Harry, the prefect would follow them back to Gryffindor tower to make sure they went as they were supposed to. Sighing in frustration, Ginny cast a glance around in an attempt to find someplace to hide. This was it, she was finally going to get answers from someone, and she didn’t need a prefect of all people messing up her chances. Without much thought, Ginny reached down and grabbed Harry’s hand again, leading him gently toward a vacant classroom near the end of the hall closest to where the footsteps were coming from. As they neared it, she worried for a short second that they wouldn’t make it in time. To the contrary, however, Ginny pulled on the handle to find it unlocked and pulled Harry in just in time to shut the door as the footsteps turned down their exact hallway.

Several moments passed before she was sure that the figure had passed. Only then did she sigh and turn back toward Harry, only then realizing she’d never let go of his hand. The gesture made her think back to a few weeks ago, when she’d broken things off with Dean. He’d lost friends too, and his depression was not helping her own sadness. The relationship had broken apart since October anyway, and he wasn’t getting any better despite her attempts to console him. In silence, Ginny wondered if Harry knew that she’d broken up with Dean. It was highly unlikely, seeing as he’d been gone when it happened. Biting her lip softly in thought, Ginny squeezed his hand, as he had before, before letting go. He would find out eventually, but probably not right now. It finally registered that she had taken Harry into a room where they were now alone, and through the windows, it was growing darker still. A furious blush spread over Ginny’s pale face, though she hoped it was dark enough that he didn’t notice. ”Harry,” she said finally, smiling sweetly in an attempt to diffuse the awkward situation. ”What happened in the few weeks you three were gone?”[/i] Being particularly serious wasn’t her natural element, and so she felt stripped and . . . just plain awkward. Therefore, it seemed best to just throw the question out there. Suddenly her fear of rejection sprung up once more, forcing her to add more in an attempt at elaborating on why she wanted to know.

”I was worried . . . “[/i] she finally admitted, looking a little more embarrassed than she already had been.

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she's become so forward XD

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table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

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[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 490px; height: 500px; background-color: #000000; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/6mnUt.jpg); border: 2px ridge #00A0E0; -webkit-border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px; border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px;] it’s a whiteout of emotion And I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall When the love in letters fade It's like moving in slow motion And we're already too late if we arrive at all And then we're caught up in the arms race---------------------------------------------- He could feel the hair standing up on the back of his neck. And he felt pride swell up in his chest. He’d caused her to laugh. That was all him. It was a sound he had grown so accustomed to hearing over the summer at The Burrow. So much so that when they had come to Hogwarts; he had found himself disappointed when she had left to go be with her own group of friends – and Dean. He’d just gotten used to the idea of her being around all the time. They had definitely gotten closer the last few months. Part of what amazed him and first drew him towards her had been her determination to help him save Sirius. And then, over the summer months, she hadn’t questioned him about the death of his godfather… hadn’t given him condolences. She had just been there. It meant more to Harry than anything. But this was the absolute first time they had managed to find any alone time since the summer. And in the true, giddy fashion of a boy seeing his crush after a long absence, Harry had no idea what to do. Now he could understand why she was constantly a bundle of nerves around him when she was younger. This feeling honestly sucked. Dear Merlin, was she blushing? Was there something wrong with him? His hair standing up … well, more so than usual? Something in his teeth? When she had turned away from him, he quickly ran his tongue over his teeth and attempted to flatten his hair – an attempt he quickly gave up on. That just wasn’t going to happen. Was it possible to take back a question? Because he wanted to. Watching the grin fall before she forced it back into place. He felt his brow knitting together in a frown as he looked at her. Slowly, they came to a stop, and Harry felt like a Grade ‘A’ Bastard. Couldn’t he have picked something else to talk about with her? It was obvious how the school was. They had all just lost friends and loved ones in Hogsmeade. It was a wound that should never have had the chance to exist. But they had all been careless in thinking that Voldemort wouldn’t attack them. They had fooled themselves, lulling themselves into a false sense of security; thinking they were safe. Even when there was nothing to lead to this conclusion. The only thing that was truly safe was Hogwarts, and even then; most people questioned that. Sure, Dumbledore was the only person Voldemort ever feared. The castle was already heavily protected before. With this second war out in the open now, the protection on the school had more than tripled. But not once did anyone ever say about the protection of Hogsmeade. Harry knew that Aurors were stationed in the village – as they were all around the Hogwarts grounds. But it obviously hadn’t been enough. And then, with the wound still open and raw, students had started to disappear. With Ron’s disappearance, he knew it was like pouring salt into the wound. But with his, Hermione’s, and that Slytherin student’s disappearance – it must have been like the wound becoming infected. In a way, Harry himself was still trying to overcome from the after effects from the Battle of Hogwarts. Having actually fought in the battle; watched as students, villagers, and Professors alike run for their lives: only a select few braving the fight. He could still hear the screams – smell the smoke from the burning buildings. Hell, he could even recall the exact chill that ran down his spine as Voldemort had targeted him after stumbling out of the Three Broomsticks. Most of the day was still a blank for Harry: whether because of the severe concussion he’d received or because his brain had determined it to traumatic he wasn’t sure – and he would never truly figure that out. But from what he could remember, and the extent of his injuries following the battle, there were no words to describe the pain that the castle had found itself being pained in. He opened his mouth to speak, to say something that may or may not be comforting when he froze, all his muscles tensing slightly under his skin. Unconsciously, his right hand was already making a move for his back pocket slowly – preparing to grab his Invisibility Cloak and throw it over them to avoid detection. He noticed when Ginny heard the sound as well. He could also see in her brown eyes when she recognized what that sound meant. And then her hand was in his again; and he unconsciously grasped onto it before he found himself being led towards what he assumed to be either an empty classroom or a broom cupboard. But the steps were getting closer. And there was no way they would get into the room quick enough. His spare hand was resting on his back pocket, the familiar feeling of water woven into fabric playing on his finger tips. And just before he could grab the cloak and throw it over them, the handle gave way under Ginny’s other hand, opening to reveal a vacant room that he was pulled into: their door shutting just as the footsteps rounded into their corridor. Judging by the slight cough the person gave, it was an older male: either a professor or an Auror stationed in the school. Harry stood, still prepared to throw the cloak over them in case the man decided to be thorough in his rounds and check the rooms. He stood next to Ginny, silently waiting for him to wait – all the while, he grip still remained firm on Ginny’s hand. He wasn’t even aware he’d still been holding her hand until she had given his a squeeze before letting go. Feeling a blush creeping up his neck and burning his ears, he muttered a small sorry. He knew she wasn’t dating Dean anymore… And he was extremely happy about that fact. But he still couldn’t bring himself to get over the ‘she’s my best mate’s little sister’ hurdle. Would it be too much to ask for help for once? What happened in the weeks they were gone.... Wasn’t that his question? He supposed she was asking about what He, Ron, and Hermione had done. He thought back onto the few weeks he’d spent… within the castle. He wasn’t even sure he could describe it. Was he allowed to? Because honestly, that would be difficult to explain, and he wandered vaguely if she would believe him, even if he said anything. “I was worried.” He licked at his lips before looking around the classroom: just to make sure it was truly empty. And it was. There were only a few desks stacked on top of each other against the far wall. He nodded to the left side of the classroom. Just because there were no footsteps outside didn’t mean anything: years of sneaking around after hours had taught Harry that. He sat against the wall, sliding down until he was sat firmly on the ground. “In all honesty, I’m not sure if I’m actually allowed to say anything… Or how to even begin. But we didn’t go anywhere. We were still here, in Hogwarts. But more like Ghosts I guess. We could see all the students, Professors, everything. We could interact with the Ghosts… But we couldn’t be heard by the living. And this… Phantom, said that he and the Castle wanted to teach us stuff. To help with the war. And they gave us each…. Gifts if you will.”

[/b]He felt his mouth go dry. Did he want to talk about this? He hadn’t even told Ron or Hermione – partly because he wanted to keep it to himself, and partly because he feared their reactions. He focused his gaze on his hands, as he rubbed them over themselves repeatedly in his nervous state. “I saw my parents.” His voice was barely above a whisper. He’d done more than just see them. He spoke with them, touched them, and cried with them. “My… my ‘gift’ was to spend an hour with my parents. As Hogwarts last remembered them. In all honesty, I don’t know if it helped or made things worse.” The familiar, painful lump was back in his throat. It was something that had taken up residence ever sense he had seen his parents.

He looked over at Ginny, a worried expression on his features. “Ron and Hermione don’t know… I don’t think they’d like that idea very much: me seeing my parents I mean.”[/color] He looked back at his hands, which had stilled in his lap. “I know I should have told them… but it was something I wanted to keep for myself… by myself. I guess that sounds selfish.” [/b]But Dammit, those were his parents. Ron could see his family at any time. All he had to do was send them a letter and he would hear from them. And while Hermione wasn’t able to send her parents a letter anymore, she still got to know them: to love them. He’d only been granted an hour with his parents. And it was an hour he wanted to keep all to himself.



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WORD: 1548
Outfit: CLICK
Muse: You lift me up by The Afters
Tag: Ginny, Ron, Hermione

NOTE:
ANOTHER LONG ONE!

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Lyrics: War by Poets of the Fall; Template by Paige @ CAUTION

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 366x; height: 190px; padding: 10px; background-color: #dcd4c7; border: #eae4d8 10px solid;] a scan of my unmade plans The Common Room was quiet this afternoon, more so than it was usually. It seemed that most students were out enjoying the winter weather -- the amount of snow that descended on Hogwarts in January was always nothing less the spectacular. Ron knew that most of his housemates were out in the snow, sending snowballs flying at speeds that could rival a bludger, building spectacular snow forts, and sledding down by the lake (which was thankfully frozen over, considering that the squid could be rather temperamental this time of year). Ron was one of the few not participating in this merriment, due to the fact that he’d been meaning to get some practice in with his sword. Even though he had enjoyed appearing in the Great Hall only a month or so before in a rather grandeur and magnificent fashion, in his own opinion, it did make it rather difficult to interact with some people. ”Why do you have a sword? Where did you disappear to? Where are you going?” All questions that he could not answer without breaking some of the rules he and his best friends had hashed out with Phantom. At this point, only Dumbledore knew where they had been, and even he was a little vague on detail. So, with most of the school out in the snow, it was a perfect time for him to head off to the Room of Requirement for a little practice. Now, sitting back in the Gryffindor Common Room, Ron rubbed his arm absently as he warmed himself in front of the fire. It was always a substantial work out, running through his routines. They weren’t normal movements, so his arm wasn’t exactly used to them, and the sword itself was rather heavy. It was always rewarding, but it also always left him with sore muscles. Then again, it was nothing that a Pepper-Up Potion couldn’t fix. Besides, it was a reminder that he was making progress. Ron made his way up to the Boys‘ Dormatories, rapping on the Girls’ doors as he passed. ”Mione, ‘ve you seen Harry today? I haven’t seen him all day.” There was an easy solution to this, to find Harry: the Marauders’ Map. Ron knew where Harry kept it, in case any of the three of them needed access for whatever reason. A missing Harry Potter was a good enough reason, in his opinion. Ron pushed the door open, leaving it open for Hermione, as he walked over to Harry’s trunk. Flipping the old leather lid open, he knelt down to rummage through Harry’s cloaks for the compartment that contained the folded up wad of parchment. Ron reached in and tapped the appropriate spot in the trunk three times, causing a small hatch door to appear. He opened it and pulled the map out before closing the trunk and striding over to his bed to take a seat. ”Wonder where he’s off at,” he chirped, tilting his chin upward in greeting as Hermione entered the room. ”Thought he’d said he was going to be around...” Ron glanced over at Hermione as she took a seat beside him, an overwhelming feeling of warmth settling over him. As much as he did not want to admit it, Ron was beginning to wonder if he was seeing something in Hermione that was something other than a best friend. What other reason could he have for wanting to sit beside her and talk and touch her hair and... Ron gave his head a little shake as he felt his ears burn. Yes, there was something else that he felt for her, something much more affectionate. However, he had no idea what it meant, or what to do about it. He ignored his own thoughts and tapped his wand against the parchment. ”I solemnly swear that I am up to no good,” he said, tapping his foot. The magical ink spread out across the page from where his wand had touched, like little black vines growing out of the ground. As he opened it up and spread it across the bed, names started to pop up, gliding across the yellowed paper. ”D’you see his name any-” But his question was cut off by a somewhat choked gasp. Harry and Ginny were in a classroom. Alone. Together. His sister and his best mate. His sister, who had had a crush on Harry since she could pronounce his name. Ginny and Harry. Ron hopped off the best before Hermione could get a good grip on him, as he knew she would try to. He stormed towards the door, waving his wand above my head. ”If you try to stop me, I will hex spiders into your bed, Hermione, so you’re either coming with me or staying here!” He nearly dashed down the stairs, skipping every other step as he went. There was business to attend to. It took less than five minutes for Ron to find the classroom. He burst in, a half-crazed grin on his face, eyes narrowed at the two of them, searching for impropriety. Best mate or not, Ginny was his sister and he had to defend her honour. ”Harry, Ginny, what a surprise seeing you here! What are the pair of you up to today? In an empty classroom. On a weekend.” WORDS: 896 . TAGGED: trio + ginny <3. NOTES: honour defending! where is my sword?!

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[HERMIONE JEAN GRANGER]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]1063 WORDS FOR harry, ron, ginny yaaay here you guys go! DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]It looked like it was going to be another long night for one Hermione Granger, as she sat there perched on her bed with books all about her and a recently finished essay on the her night-side table. Chewing on a thumbnail, the sixth year Gryffindor girl was already bedecked in her pajamas, having eaten an early dinner by herself when she hadn’t been able to find Harry or Ron to accompany her, and flipping through another one of her schoolbooks to prepare herself for another essay she wanted to have done for next week’s lesson. She was more than relieved to finally say that she was just about caught up on her school assignments - just two more essays, including the one she was preparing to write now, and she would be set. To say that Hermione was both excited and worried about it was an understatement. Excited, because, as anyone could see, she had been working far too hard recently and being caught up on schoolwork would come as such a needed relief that it was quite possible Hermione might, for once, cheer for joy after an assignment was completed. Once she was caught up, she could devote more time to the subjects she felt were incredibly important. Like the war, for instance. Despite their time with the Phantom, Hermione still felt incredibly unprepared for what might happen if they were to be caught in a battle once more. Taking a deep breath, she pushed these thoughts from her head as she once again focused her thoughts on the textbook in front of her. But a knock on the door of the dormitory caused Hermione pause and she looked up in slight annoyance - was she ever going to get anything done? But when it was Ron’s voice that echoed through the door, she tried to ignore the slight thump in her chest as she slid from her bed and slipped on some shoes and shut the textbook (it would practically be sacrilegious to simply leave it open all willy-nilly, of course) before going to the door as she tied her messy hair back. Ron’s question was something that she herself had been wondering for a lot of today, though Hermione was far too bogged down in work to really spare it much thought. She went to the door, slipping on a Hogwarts robe as she did so - she wasn’t overly fond of exiting her dormitory in just pajamas - and opened it to poke her head out. ”No, Ron, I haven’t seen him, why’re you-“ But Ron was already going up the stairs continuing onto the boy’s dormitory. Letting out an impatient noise that was a mix between a sigh and a groan, she disappeared momentarily into the girl’s dormitory to at least organize her things on the bed. She left her essay on the nightstand and as Crookshanks jumped up onto her bed, she pointed a finger at him. ”Crookshanks, don’t you dare touch that parchment, because I’m not afraid to cast a Stinging Hex at you.” The fluffy orange cat gave her a disdainful look before mewing and jumping back down off the bed. With a sigh, Hermione turned and followed Ron up the stairs, her wand in her robe pocket as she gently shut the door behind her. She found the boy’s dormitory door open, as she assumed Ron probably left it open for her, and she headed inside and tugged the robe tighter around her as she watched him pull out the Marauder’s Map. She let out a sigh as he silently acknowledged her presence. ”Ron, do you really think that’s necessary? Harry will be back at some point, I’m sure,” she said, sinking down onto the bed next to him. Sitting so close to him, it reminded her far too much of sitting on the broom behind him, and Hermione had no idea why that made butterflies flutter in her stomach, or her heart skip a beat. But fearing that those thoughts would lead her down a dangerous path, she tried not to linger on them. But they served as a momentary distraction, a distraction that was long enough for her to not realize what was going on until it was too late. Oh, dear. Hermione’s eyes widened as she registered what, exactly, Ron had seen, and immediately she moved to restrain him, but he was already up off the bed. ”Ron, for goodness’ sake, calm down!” she snapped, any thoughts of the butterflies and the thumping heart gone as she too shot off the bed. ”Listen for a minute, honestly, who do you think they are? They just happened to be in a classroom alone, that’s all, don’t-“ Ron cut her off, threatening her with a hex, and Hermione immediately began to look like an owl whose feathers had been ruffled the wrong way as she appeared to puff herself up in irritation and anger. ”As if you know a hex that could possibly do such a thing anyway! You get back here right this instant, Ronald Weasley!” But he was already out the door. Making an exceedingly irritated noise, Hermione stormed right after him. He was moving so quickly, Hermione had to practically run to keep up with him, and those five minutes on the way to the classroom were riddled with shouts such as, ”Ron, honestly, you’re over-reacting!” or ”Ron, slow down!” and even ”Ronald Weasley, so help me if you just burst into that classroom!” Honestly, Hermione didn’t see what the big deal was, and she was fairly angry and irritated on behalf of her two other best friends. She, unlike Ron, trusted them enough alone together, and she knew that this kind of closure was probably something they could both use, particularly Harry. Hermione wasn’t stupid. She was observant. She noticed things, even if some people (namely the redhead currently raging in front of her) were completely oblivious. More than anything, she just didn’t want Ron ruining whatever calming atmosphere they had. Which, naturally, he did about thirty seconds later when he burst into the empty classroom in which the other two were. Rushing in after him, Hermione looked incredibly apologetic. ”I’m so sorry, you two, I tried to stop him,” she blurted out, ”He was looking for Harry and saw on the Marauder’s Map, he’s being utterly ridiculous.” [/style]

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

[Deleted]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #b6999a solid; border-bottom: 10px #b6999a solid;] repair your broken wings ( WORDS ) 934 ( TAGGED ) HARRY, HERMY, RON There was a pause, during which Ginny wasn’t sure if Harry intended to answer her. Frustration yet sympathy flared within her, both of which she quickly quelled. If he was going to tell her, it would be on his own terms. Well, if he didn’t already have terms he had agreed to with Ron and Hermione concerning the events. Waiting quietly was hard, but she managed to remain still until Harry nodded to the left side of the classroom. Admittedly, that should have been one of the first things she’d thought to do—remove themselves from proximity of the corridor. Pressing her lips together lightly, Ginny scolded herself for letting Harry distract her better judge so. Eventually, Harry made his way over to the far wall, sliding down into a seated position. For a moment, Ginny considered standing to stare down at him, firm and demanding of the truth, but almost immediately she broke and slid down beside him. She’d always had a soft spot for Harry, and it seemed that wouldn’t be challenged now. As soon as she’d sat, he began talking, causing her face to fall neutral but attentive. He was going to finally give her some answers, and she didn’t intend to miss a syllable. Remaining neutral was difficult as he started spouting amazing wonders such as the ‘Phantom’ and gifts. Had they really not left? That meant it was entirely possible for the three to have seen her withdraw from her house-mates in seething fury and panic. It wasn’t often that she displayed her weaker emotions publically, and she was suddenly very grateful she hadn’t. Throughout Harry’s explanation, Ginny remained quiet and thoughtful, offering no words of doubt or wonder. All of her reactions seemed to leak through her eyes though as the wheels in her hand turned furiously. What did this mean? What had Harry been given? What had he seen? Desperately, she wanted him to continue speaking, to continue explaining his adventures within the castle’s spirit world. Instead, he began to rub his hands nervously and dropped a stunned wildfire whiz-bang on her: he’s seen his parents. Slightly, ever so slightly, Ginny’s eyes widened in surprise, but she remained quiet to let him finish. She could see, even if he could not, that he hadn’t told anyone and that it had been gnawing at him relentlessly. It was a privilege, really, to be among the first he told. Of course, this raised more alarming questions. How? What had happened? Was Harry fulfilled or more broken for the experience? Biting her lip softly, Ginny recognized his reluctance and nearly told him to stop. She wanted to know, but she didn’t want to hurt him for it. But he continued anyway, explaining that seeing his parents had been his gift. A soft, gentle smile spread over her face as finished, admitting what she feared. Seeing his deceased parents, realizing that he’d never see them again after that brief reprieve from the pain, would have been enough to seriously alienate anyone. It was clear why he hadn’t given this knowledge away to anyone else yet. Suddenly, Harry turned to her, clearly worried, and explained that Hermione and her brother didn’t know. Ginny nodded, understanding that it was not her place to share information so personal. He’d thought to confide in her, so she would keep his confidence. Keeping information like this was damaging, but not selfish- Harry had ever right to hoard it. Just as Ginny was about to reach for Harry’s hand, if only to offer comfort, Ron, of all people burst into the room. Yanking her hand back, Ginny pushed herself up onto her feet and looked at him with a stubborn air of hostility. This had been her time with Harry, and somehow, Ron had found them and was proceeding to ruin it. The question immediately became ‘how had he found her’ when Hermione trailed into the room after her brother, blurting out the very answer. Balling her fists in frustration, Ginny glared at Ron, sparing a brief moment to glance at her best friend before returning her gaze to her brother. She knew exactly what he thought this was, for she wasn’t idiotic, even if he was. ”Ron! Calm down,” she snapped, quickly trying to figure out how much she could say without breeching Harry’s personal information. It then set in that she didn’t have to mind Ron, for he had no business tracking Harry down, and consequently Ginny. ”It’s none of your business what we are doing here,”

[/i] she claimed boldly, trying to keep the blush off her face. They hadn’t done anything wrong. Ron was being completely ridiculous. Turning back to Harry, Ginny’s expression softened slightly, long enough to reach a hand out to help him up in silent promise. She wouldn’t tell Ron or Hermione what he’d told her, but she needed him to be assured of the fact. Once he was up and standing with the rest of them, Ginny turned back to Ron and continued glaring. ”What do you want, Ron?”[/i] she said quietly. Ginny didn’t like to raise her voice when she was upset if she could help it, because it made her hysterical with anger. Instead, she settled for an angry, low tone of voice. Her other brothers said it was . . sometimes . . scary. It was no secret to the trio that Ron and Ginny had been on bad terms the past few months, for Ron hadn’t been too accepting of Dean. Not that it was any of his business, for she could snog whoever she liked!

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..still breaking in ginny and her sassehness

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table by CALIFORNIA DREAMING of CAUTION 2.0, lyrics by maroon 5

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[HARRY JAMES POTTER]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 490px; height: 500px; background-color: #000000; background-image: url(http://i.imgur.com/6mnUt.jpg); border: 2px ridge #00A0E0; -webkit-border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px; -moz-border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px; border-radius: 0 30px 0 30px;] it’s a whiteout of emotion And I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall When the love in letters fade It's like moving in slow motion And we're already too late if we arrive at all And then we're caught up in the arms race---------------------------------------------- It never even occurred to him what this would look like if someone were to walk in. After all, what were the chances of someone finding them to begin with? In the odd chance a teacher or anyone walking in were slim to none for some reason, none of those patrolling the halls of the magnificent castle thought twice to actually check the rooms. Not that he was complaining. It made sneaking out so much easier. And he didn’t want to be caught. Lest the rumors start flying around. It wouldn’t have bothered him ay. Ever since he’d set foot back into his world, rumors and stories followed him everywhere. From bustling London to the quiet of his dormitory, whispers followed him like a shadow. He’d learned to ignore them at the same time he’d learned to fight in the war: at the tender age of eleven. No, the stories flying around wouldn’t bother him. And he highly doubted they would bother her. The five years he had known her – by Merlin! Was it really only five years? – He had never known her to put much stock into the words of others. She’d believe it only if she saw and heard it for herself. It was one of the reasons he loved her. Dear Merlin… he loved her. When had that happened? Hadn’t it just been a true, established friendship over the summer? When his feelings had begun to change from a brotherly love, to a crush, and finally settling on love – for he knew this emotion well and there was no mistaking it - he could not say. But change it had. And sitting there on the floor in the back of the abandoned classroom, he knew he’d done the right thing by telling her of his parents. He wouldn’t have been able to keep that to himself for long. And telling Ron and Hermione would have been a bad idea. They were already worried enough for him. No need to add more reasons for them to do so. But like all good things, his time alone with Ginny had had to come to an end. Now standing in front of them with a look of pure murder on his features stood the one person who Harry would have preferred to not have found him in a room alone with Ginny. After all, it was well known that Ron was over protective of his little sister. Honestly though, Harry felt a bit hurt. Did Ron really think so little of him? He froze in place, unwilling to move and bring more attention to himself. Well, he was in trouble now. “Really Ron, it’s not what it looks like. And I know what it looks like because you’ve got that look on your face that you get every time you look at Dean. And I can tell you… it’s not that.”

[/color] Okay, he was rambling, which really didn’t help his case any. Bloody hell, he was going to get beaten up by his best mate. How was that for irony? But how had he found them? Out of the entire castle, how had Ron known to burst into this particular room… Of course. The Map.

Harry glared at Ron as Hermione came bursting into the room after him, an apology quickly escaping her lips and how they had come to where they were all now. “You went through my stuff!? What the hell’d you do that for!?[/b]” He could look after himself – contrary to popular belief. His gaze turned back to Ginny as she offered him her hand; the softened look and the reassuring gaze letting him known silently that his secret was safe with her. He nodded his head slightly, taking her hand to help pull himself up into a standing position before letting her hand fall. He really didn’t need to provoke Ron anymore than he already was. And because he really didn’t trust himself with his best friend, he instead turned towards Hermione. “Is there a reason why you guys seemed to be looting through my things to find me? And if something’s happened, I swear I didn’t do it, nor was I behind it in any way, shape, or form.” Just so everyone was clear.




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WORD: 0709
Outfit: CLICK
Muse: You lift me up by The Afters
Tag: Ginny, Ron, Hermione

NOTE:
sorry it took so long

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Lyrics: War by Poets of the Fall; Template by Paige @ CAUTION

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[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 366x; height: 190px; padding: 10px; background-color: #dcd4c7; border: #eae4d8 10px solid;] a scan of my unmade plans All at once, Ron experienced emotions each on opposite ends of the spectrum. At first, Ginny and Hermione’s words both inflamed him, as if he weren’t supposed to want to make sure his sister was alright, as if he wasn’t supposed to care about her heart and boys and all of the things that came with her growing up. And at the same time, Harry’s words soothed him, his best friend, who truly knew him better than almost anyone, assuring him that there was no impropriety. It wasn’t that he thought that Harry would get up to any kind of nonsense or mischief that would make him need to send him to the Hospital Wing. It was the fact that, best friend or not, Ron knew that Harry was the object of his little sister’s affections. And it was his job as her older brother to watch out for her and to make sure that anyone she saw casually or otherwise knew that Ron, and his older brothers, would have no problem hexing the living piss out of anyone that ended up breaking Ginny’s heart. Best friend or not, Ginny was his sister, and he would never stop feeling that way about not wanting to see her hurt. Ron’s first real memory was of Ginny. He had been a little over two years old, and the memory was fragmented, as those made so young often are. His mother had set the pair of them down in the playpen for a nap while she went out to the garden to de-gnome it. Ginny managed to drop her favourite stuffed bear out of the pen, between the bars. As soon as she’d realized what had happened, she began to cry. And instead of finding the sound annoying or abrasive, it instead touched his tiny heart: Ron wanted nothing more than to make things better for his baby sister. And so he had managed to climb out of the pen, retrieved the bear, and climbed back in off the edge of a chair. Ron placed the bear back in her tiny arms, shushing her and cooing until her tears ceased, eyes staring up at him in the wonder that only exists in the very young. And that was the moment that he knew that he would never, ever let anything happen to his baby sister if he could help it. So it was quite natural, in his own opinion, that he should feel such protective instincts towards his sister, especially after he’d seen her heart broken before. Dean had been nothing to her, but Ron knew better when it came to Harry. He had the full capability to break her heart should anything happen. He swallowed hard, and exhaled, holding his hands up as he shook his head. ”Alright, alright,” he said, lips pressed together in a thin line. ”I’ll leave. Sorry for barging in...” His voice was flat, save for the bit of sadness on the very end. Maybe she didn’t need him that much anymore, after all. And as quickly as Harry’s words had settled Ron, they poked at the embers and exposed them to the air they so desperately needed to burst back into flame. Ron turned around to his friend, eyebrows raised fiercely as his mouth hung open. ”Why’d I get the map from the place you told me it’d be?” he half laughed, his tongue wetting his lips as he took a deep breath. ”Maybe because I had no idea where you were, and in light of recent circumstances, I should like to know where my best friend is when I haven’t seen hide nor hair of him in a few bloody hours, that’s why!” He shrugged his shoulders incredulously, shaking his head. ”I don’t need to know where you are all the time, I just figured, ”Gee, with people disappearing lately, all three of us being among them, if I haven’t seen Harry in a while, I should probably check up on that,”" he snapped. WORDS: 687 . TAGGED: trio + ginny <3. NOTES: no one loves meeee

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