POTTER’S ROMANCE WITH SOLE WEASLEY SISTER
Rita Skeeter.
July, 1998. Avid fans of The Boy Who Saved Us All may be disappointed to learn that Harry Potter, 17, was spotted hand-in-hand with Ginervra Wealsey, 16, in Diagon Alley this past Sunday.
The pair - presumed to be a couple, if their physical proximity is any judge - were spotted by passerby in front of Quality Quidditch Supplies.
“I thought they might be arguing,” noted witness Pauline Summers, “but they weren’t. Well, they were sort of having a disagreement about this broom in the window, whether it was very high quality. Then Harry Potter kissed her - the Weasley sister - on the cheek, and she -” (Here, Summers suppressed a giggle.) “Well, she went right for his lips.”
The Chosen One’s apparent penchant for public displays of affection may indicate a more serious psychological disturbance…
***
Ginny lowered the paper, grinning devilishly.
“Keep going,” said Harry, “I want to know what sort of psychological disturbance I’ve got.”
“Oh, don’t worry,” she quipped, “they’ve brought up your terrible childhood, how you were starved of love and affection and now its manifesting in -” she consulted the page again - “overt sexual proclivity.”
Harry snorted. Ginny swatted him with the paper “It's alright for you. I’m the one that’s got to go back to school in a month.”
“At least they got your name right. The Boy Who Saved Us All - that’s a new one.”
“Pauline Summers…” Ginny chewed her lip and twirled a piece of her hair thoughtfully around her finger. “She was the year below me, I think. Yeah. One of Romilda Vane’s roommates.”
Harry smirked. “Now, Ginny -”
“What!” she threw her hands up in a surrendering gesture. “I haven’t even called her names.”
“Pauline Bummer,” Harry recalled faithfully.
“Oh, come on. It was too easy.” Ginny smiled bashfully. “You didn’t like her much either.”
“No,” Harry conceded, “not after she turned up at quidditch tryouts my sixth year. She didn’t have a clue how to fly a broom.”
“That was all Romilda’s doing,” said Ginny. “Reckon she saw it as a way in.”
Harry looked at her. “A way in to what?”
“Into your pants.”
His guffaw was swallowed by the sound of Ron bursting into the Burrow’s kitchen. He groaned upon seeing Harry and Ginny already seated there.
“Great. Listen -” he nodded at Harry - “stop snogging my sister in public, would you?”
Ginny giggled as Harry stared at Ron in feigned disbelief. “She came onto me!”
“Yeah, didn’t you read the article?” Ginny sniggered.
“It’s bloody ridiculous,” spat Ron, “people walking up to me in the street asking me if I feel betrayed -”
“Well, do you?” said Ginny.
Ron began to wave his hands around manically. “Wait till mum gets a hold of it! Oh, you’ll be in for it then.”
“Nah, mate. I reckon she’ll walk on eggshells around me on account of my severe psychological disturbance,” said Harry.
“His overt sexual proclivity,” Ginny drawled.
Ron pressed his mouth into a thin line. Harry recognized this as an acceptance of defeat - an attempt to suppress an amused smile about the absurdity of it all. “Pauline Summers…” Ron said tentatively, “was she -?”
“Pauline Bummer,” said Ginny’s
He looked at Harry. “And she -”
“She was at tryouts in sixth year,” Harry confirmed.
Ron sat heavily in a kitchen chair. “Jesus, what an absolute arse.”
Ginny grabbed her brother’s arm. “It’s alright. I was worried she’d steal Harry from me, too.”
***
That afternoon, Ginny’s chest rose and fell in slow, steady intervals beneath his arm. Harry stared at her face in profile - the curved slope of her nose, her lips. His own mouth was all swollen from kissing. They’d passed many hot, humid days like this - on a blanket by the river, tangled up in each other.
Ginny blinked and opened her eyes. She smiled. “Quit watching me sleep.”
“You’re not sleeping,” Harry pointed out.
“Yes, but I’d really like to be,” said Ginny. She propped herself up on her elbow and studied him for a moment. “What’s the matter?”
Harry frowned. “What? Nothing.”
“You’ve got that sourpuss look on your face.”
“I do not.”
“You so do. Like this.” Ginny pulled a rather hideous looking face.
“Stop,” Harry swatted her as she rolled over, laughing.
“This isn’t about that silly article, is it? That stuff never bothered you before, when we were at school.” Ginny frowned. “Reckon it was much worse then, too.”
“That was different,” said Harry.
“Yeah, ‘cos now you’re The Boy Who Saved Us All and not The Dirty Little Liar.”
Harry stared at her. Ginny stared back, steadfast, and he sighed. “It’s different because now they’ve got you involved,” he said. “And they’re not going to let up, you know.”
“Yeah. So what?”
He began to chew on his thumbnail, a nervous habit he could never quite ditch. “I mean it’s always going to be like this, Gin. As long as we’re… together.”
Ginny’s face hardened. “Yeah,” she said again, a bit more drawn out, “so what?”
“Just. You know.” Harry shrugged, feeling as if he was fumbling this all up. “It’s not fun, having the whole world speculate about what color your underpants are.”
“Harry Potter,” Ginny sat fully upright, “are you giving me an out?”
“Well, obviously I’d prefer if you didn’t take it -”
“I’m not,” Ginny said firmly.
“- but you know, it’s just what it is. And I’ve accepted it cause I haven’t really got a choice, but you do. Have a choice.”
“What, you think I can’t handle it?”
“No!” Harry sat upright too and squeezed Ginny’s hand. He smiled sheepishly. “You know I think you’re brilliant. And I love you. But maybe you also could want to be loved by someone who's not in the tabloids so often or who’s not so deeply psychologically disturbed - that might be nice -”
Predictably, Ginny interrupted him with a firm kiss on the lips. “Harry,” she said, voice low, “anyone else would pale in comparison.”
He blinked. “Gee, thanks.”
She regarded him skeptically. “Do I really come across as someone who fancies a nice, quiet, mundane life?”
“No, not really -”
“I mean, if I can, I’d like to do professional quidditch,” Ginny said proudly. “Ever since I was little, that’s what I wanted to do. Nothing quiet or mundane about quidditch, you know.”
Harry smiled. “Yeah, I know.”
“And who knows,” Ginny laid down again, tugging Harry down with her. “Maybe one day I’ll be the famous one in the relationship!”
Harry guffawed.
“Don’t you laugh,” she said, “I can see it now. Star chaser Ginny Weasley spotted with washed up boyfriend. And the article will say, he did something once, killed someone important, died and came back to life - we can’t remember. But he knows how to pick em - his girlfriend’s bloody brilliant at quidditch.”