The Tragic Drama of Harry & Ginny
Oh, this is just great. I’ve been living through all sorts of drama around here, but now—now—I have to deal with this. Harry, the same Harry who can barely keep his school robes from getting wrinkled, is now walking around like he’s starring in some kind of romantic tragedy. And who’s the leading lady? None other than Ginny Weasley. Of course.
Honestly, do they think I’m blind? They’re sneaking around like they're on some secret mission, but all I’m doing is trying to find a decent spot to nap, and these two always find a way to mess it up. It’s like their relationship is an ongoing soap opera, and guess who’s the unwilling audience? That’s right—me.
So, what do I do? I stare at them with my usual disinterested gaze, sitting proudly on the windowsill, watching as they giggle and make eyes at each other like it’s the most normal thing in the world. Of course, they don’t realize that I’m not judging—I’m just observing.
But of course, as they get all moony-eyed and lovey-dovey, they start thinking I’m giving them the stink-eye. Like I care about their human feelings. I’m a cat, not some emotional counselor. But do they understand that? No. They just get all flustered and look at me like I’m some sort of judgmental feline. Seriously, the audacity.
"Oh, are we doing this again? Honestly, I can’t believe I have to witness this. Who even wants to kiss in front of me? You know, I’d rather be napping, but no, this is my fate now."
And, naturally, there’s always the moment when they both think I’m glaring at them disapprovingly. They get all red-faced, looking around like they’ve just been caught doing something terrible. But I’m not glaring. I’m thinking about snacks. I’m thinking about that tasty rat I spotted earlier in the hallway, or that bit of chicken that mysteriously appeared on the counter earlier.
They can do their kissy-kissy thing all they want. But I’m just going to keep sitting here, pretending I don’t care.
And of course, because this is human drama, Harry’s constantly awkward around Ginny. But no matter how many times they try to sneak around and whisper sweet nothings to each other in the hallways, I always end up there. They can’t seem to get enough of me, the ever-watchful cat, who apparently has opinions on their relationship.
And I do have opinions. Just because I’m not verbal about it doesn’t mean I’m not paying attention. They keep thinking I’m giving them a hard time with my glares, but really, I’m just observing the trainwreck of emotions that is their love life. Ginny’s all sweet and shy, and Harry’s all brooding and awkward, and me? I’m sitting here, bored out of my mind, just waiting for them to finally figure it out.
"Do they really think I care about this?" I mutter to myself, watching as Harry tries—again—to act all suave around Ginny. But it’s clear to me—he’s not smooth, he’s just trying really hard. And Ginny? She knows it, too. But still, they keep up this whole dance like they’re auditioning for a romance movie.
Finally, the worst part happens. They kiss. Right in front of me.
Oh, no. Not again. I didn’t sign up for this.
I’m literally just trying to nap here, people.
I roll my eyes dramatically, as if I’ve seen this scene a thousand times. It’s like they think their love life is the most important thing in the world. Well, newsflash, Harry and Ginny: I’ve got more important things to worry about—like that nap I was trying to get before you two started playing footsie under the table.
"Great, now we’re doing this in front of me? How many times do I have to witness this before I’m allowed to leave the room? I’m not interested, I swear. Go kiss somewhere else. Really, though—when’s dinner?"
They seem to think I’m judging them, but really, I’m just trying to get some peace. Maybe if they weren’t so dramatic, I could go back to my business of hunting for food, taking naps, and not watching Harry and Ginny’s never-ending love saga unfold. But nope. Here I am, the unwilling third wheel in their soap opera.
“Ugh, humans,” I sigh, swishing my tail. “They make everything so complicated. Just go find a nice sunny spot and take a nap, like I do.”
But no. They’ve got to make things so much more dramatic.
I’ll just be over here—unimpressed, as usual.