Chapter 2
Professor McGonagall's office gives an aura of formality. Tall bookshelves line the walls, with dusted books on magical law, showing the room's scholarly vibe. The portraits of past headmasters and headmistresses, bearing serious expressions, silently observe Ginny’s presence. Ginny sat there, silent.
The air in the room is thick with anticipation. Each tick of the grandfather clock seems to echo the passage of the anxious moment. But Ginny didn’t feel guilty for she had done, that git deserved it. She planned to plead with Professor Mcgonagall.
Ginny sat in one of the sturdy chairs, her gaze drifting towards a collection of stern-faced witch and wizard figurines on a nearby shelf. The orderly arrangement of quills, parchment, and neatly stacked documents on Professor McGonagall's desk shows her fondness for order.
Finally, Professor McGonagall entered her office, and sat in her tall chair, staring at Ginny.
“Ms. Weasley. I never expected you to be here, out of all people. I feel you should be aware of Dean's current state. A broken nose and a bruised side. I hope you're happy with yourself, Ms. Weasley.”
Ginny tried to explain herself but got shut down quickly. “Ms. Weasley, make no mistake by thinking I will listen to your excuses, because I don’t care what conflicts you had with Mr. Thomas. What you did broke Hogwarts rules, that's it, plain, simple, done, period.”
“Yes, Professor.” Ginny said. Ginny felt a little more ashamed now. How could she let her anger get a hold of her that way?
“Thus you will face the consequences for your actions. You are in order for a heartfelt apology to Mr. Thomas,” Ginny cringed at the thought of this. “I will be writing to your parents and Mr. Thomas's parents about this incident and you will have detention every Friday for the next four weeks.” Ginny was happy about this outcome, expecting way worse.
“Yes, Professor.” Ginny said.
“Now, I’m being generous and not giving you that long of a punishment because I know you have O.W.Ls soon and I want your energy to go towards that. But understand if you repeat this incident again… The consequences will be severe. You’re dismissed Ms. Weasley.”
Ginny takes her bag and swings it over her shoulder. She checks her watch as she leaves the big, broad brown doors of Professor McGonagall’s office. Just in time for dinner.
As she walks into the dining hall, she takes her seat by Hermione. Hermione glares at her.
“Ginny…” Hermione said. Ron and Harry sit across. Ron chuckles. “Ginny, I heard what you did, highfive!” Ron held up his hand.
“Ronald! Ginny, I can’t believe you did something like that. You never seemed like an angry type of person.” Hermione scolds. Ginny simply rolls her eyes. “Save me the speech, okay? Professor McGonagall told me everything I needed to hear.” Ginny's appetite didn’t exist, but she tried to eat anyway.
Down the table was Dean, with tapes and bandages around his nose, with Seamus, Monroe, and Chelsea. She quickly made eye contact with him, and looked away..
“So, what's your punishment?” Harry asked.
“Just four weeks of detention, each day on Friday. I kind of got off easy this time around…” Ginny sighed.
“Nice, I also have detention those days. It’ll be nice not to be alone, sorting those medical records for Madam Pomfry.” Harry said. Harry noticed the sparkle in Ginny's eyes when he said that, under the floating candles and the aroma of hot food.
“Yeah.. It’ll be nice.” Ginny said. And suddenly Ginny was looking forward to her detentions.
* * *
In the dimly lit Gryffindor dormitory, Ron, agitated, paced back and forth while Hermione, sitting on his four-poster bed, sifted through a collection of records, contemplating the soundtrack for the evening.
“That lot must take me as dumb, right?” Ron grumbled, his frustration evident. "I’ve seen the way they look at each other, I mean—it's not natural. And I warned Harry, if you ever lay a hand on my sister, we can’t be friends, but apparently that wasn’t enough. I thought Ginny had buried that stupid crush on Harry ages ago, but I suppose I'm mistaken.”
“That's odd, I vividly remember you saying you would rather Ginny date Harry than Dean,” Hermione pointed out, her eyes scanning the records.
“Yeah, well, my feelings are inconsistent most of the time,” Ron admitted, finally taking a seat. As Hermione settled on a song and placed it on the record player, Ron offered a begrudging acknowledgment.
“Good choice,” he conceded.
“Yeah,” Hermione responded. “Look, don't worry about Ginny and Harry; that's their business. Worry about us.”
Ron leaned in, and soon they found themselves sprawled out on the bed, snogging, enjoying themselves.
Neville stood hesitantly at the door to his dormitory, nervously fidgeting. Harry approached, hoping to enter as well.
“Neville, why won't you go in?” Harry questioned, shaking the locked door. “Ugh, Hermione and Ron must be in there.” Harry pressed his ear against the door and winced. “Ew..”
“Harry, can you ask them to leave? I need to go there,” Neville timidly asked.
Harry knocked on the door. “Ron, we talked about this.” He said.
“Alright, alright, I'm coming,” said Hermione, and after a brief exchange, she left the dorm.
“Bye, Harry,” she said as they crossed paths.
“Bye, ‘Mione, and stay out of our dorm!” Harry said.
Later, Dean, Seamus, Harry, Neville, and Ron were getting ready for bed, late at night. The boys had a sheet of rules on the wall, rules that they established in their first year when it was hard to get along. Rules like, don’t make a mess in the bathroom or something as simple as don’t make noise if you choose to wake up early. Ron rips it off the wall and places it on the desk.
“Alright, guys, I’ve had enough. I'm adding another rule,” he declared, scribbling two new rules with his quill. Harry sneaked a glance to see what he wrote.
“Rule number twelve: nobody can date Ginny,” Ron stated, rolling his eyes. “Really, Ron. You think you can dictate who Ginny dates?” Harry remarked.
Ron turned around. “Do you have a problem with it?” he challenged, scanning the room. “Does anybody else here have a problem with it? Because the last time a git here dated my little sister, all hell broke loose.”
“Oh, fuck off, Ron. Nobody cares about your stupid rules. I'm going to sleep,” Dean declared, turning off his light.
“Rule number 13: If a roommate has his girlfriend in the room, come back later,” Harry chuckled. “Do you really think this rule applies to anybody but you?”
“Honestly, mate, except for you, we were all painfully single,” Neville chimed in. Seamus glanced at Dean.
“Regardless, the rules will be enforced as of now,” Ron declared, sticking the paper back up before everyone slept for the night.
* * *
The Hogwarts corridors echoed with the chatter of students, their anticipation large as the upcoming Slytherin versus Gryffindor match loomed on the horizon. Out of all the house rivalries, Gryffindor v.s Slytherin was definitely the most intense.
Ginny couldn't escape the constant jabs and taunts from Slytherins whenever she navigated the halls. She couldn’t stand the unwanted spotlight.
Settling down next to Harry in the Great Hall, she offered a friendly wave across where Hermione and Ron were bickering while Harry was forced to listen as usual. Harry looked preoccupied though, inspecting his cup.
“You’re not eating. Why?” Ginny asked.
“Not very hungry. Hey, does this juice taste… weird to you?”
Ginny took a sip of her own goblet, pondering the taste. “No? Tastes normal.” Harry swiftly took her goblet, taking a sip himself.
“Oh…” Ginny said, sensing something weird.
“Sorry, I just need to know for sure this was normal,” Harry explained, his brow furrowed.
“Don’t worry about the juice; maybe it's just a bit old,” Ginny reassured him.
“Yeah, maybe…” Harry replied, the unease lingering in the air.
* * *
As Harry navigated through his day, a lingering unease clung to him like a persistent shadow. Even in Defense Against the Dark Arts, where he typically remained sharp and attentive, his mind was elsewhere. His gaze drifted absentmindedly out the window, fixated on the Quidditch pitch where a match awaited him.
“Potter!” Snape's sharp call snapped him back to the present, and he turned his head toward the front of the classroom.
“What are the long-lasting effects of a failed infatuation charm?” Snape asked, his scrutinizing eyes fixed on Harry.
“Um,” Harry stammered, feeling the weight of the question. “Weak limbs, pale face, and altered taste buds.”
“You forgot a hazy memory. Ten points off Gryffindor. Maybe paying attention would do you some good,” Snape remarked, his tone cutting through the air. Harry, in response, simply rolled his eyes.
“Harry, are you okay?” Hermione whispered.
“Is it hot in here for you?” Harry countered, trying to deflect.
“No… Honestly, Harry, are you sick? You should visit Madam Pomfrey!” Hermione insisted.
“Stop worrying so much, Hermione. I'll talk to her later when I visit for detention,” Harry assured.
The bell rang, signaling the end of classes, and Harry couldn’t get out of there fast enough. He rushed to the prefect's bathroom and stormed in. He took off his robes and examined his skin. “What is wrong with me?”
His skin had gone two shades lighter, which was saying something because Harry was as pale as Nearly Headless Nick. His hairs on his arms were slightly raised. He studied it closely. Ever since he drank that juice, he's felt… weird. Harry speculated that a slytherin must have poisoned his drink so he couldn’t compete in the tournament.
Whatever it was, it needed to be fixed.
He whipped his head around, and saw Malfoy walking in.
“Harrison! Nice act you pulled in Defense.” said Malfoy. He washed his hands next to Harry.
“What do you want Draco?” Harry said.
“Nothing, I just came to wash my hands,” He faces Harry, “You look like shit, per usual.”
“Save it for the quidditch pitch Malfoy. Besides, I’m not in the mood to have a row with you.” Harry said.
After that sour interaction, Malfoy got his things and made his way out. Before he left, Harry just had to ask. “Malfoy!” Draco turned around. “Did any of your goonies put something in my juice this morning?”
“What.. no? You’d really think I'd poison you? I mean, out of all of the players on the Gryffindor team, you’re not really a threat.” Malfoy said. For once, Malfoy seemed to be telling the truth. After Malfoy left, Harry dug in his bag a solution.
He pulled out a little capsule of accentus relevium, a grounded up plant used for stress relief. In Harry’s fifth year, whenever he felt himself getting angry or stressed, he would just sniff this and hope for the best. And that's what Harry did. Suddenly his muscles felt more relaxed, and some color appeared on his skin.
He put on his robe and he left the bathroom to make his way to the dining hall, to at least have a little to eat before his long detention with Ginny. He was looking forward to it a bit now, knowing they could be alone.
He sat down with Ginny, Hermione and Ron. “Hey,” said Ginny, “Excited for our detentions tonight?”
“God no, but It’ll be nice to get it over with.” said Harry.
“Where were you Harry? You’ve been acting strange all day.” said Ron.
“In the library, getting some books. You know I’m not very hungry, I think I’m going to the hospital wing now, just to get an early start.” Harry got up from his seat.
“I think I’ll go ahead and join you Harry, bye guys!” said Ginny. They proceed to walk out of the dining hall and make their way to the hospital wing. On their way, a few slytherins gave them nasty looks or jeered at them.
“This stupid rivalry is going to be the death of me.” said Ginny. Harry only nodded.
At the hospital wing was Madam Promfrey and a few other students, on the beds.
“Harry and Ginny! Here for your detentions I assume?” said Madam Promfrey. The pair nodded. She took them to her office, stacked with filing cabinets full of medical records.
“Ginny you’re in luck since Harry did most of the work already. Harry, I trust that you’ll tell Ginny what to do. I have to attend to my patients. After two hours, you may be excused to leave.” After that preface, Madam Pomfrey left her office.
“Alright, so all we have to do is separate the female and male files then after that we organize it by date. But all of the files that happened before 1900 can be thrown out, since there y’know. Dead.” Harry told her.
“Seems simple enough.” They then got to work, working together to organize the files. Harry noticed his accentus relievum was wearing off, but he didn’t have anymore on him. He decided it was fine and continued. They read aloud the gender of said person and stacked them. After thirty minutes they finished.
“Nice job.” Harry said, high fiving her. He looked at Ginny and thought about how pretty she looks with her hair up.
“We make a pretty good team!” Ginny said, looking at all of the work they had completed.
“Yeah…” Harry said, feeling that same tension he felt that night Ginny and Dean broke up. He gulped. “Okay, now for the hard part.”
They sat down, organizing the files by date, and put them back as they went. Ginny liked it when they were sorting the files and their hands accidentally touched. Sometimes they would read the medical files, and find some pretty funny ones. One of them read, Black, Sirius. 1967. Broken arm from failed prank, occupied hospital wing for two days. Harry's face fell.
“Harry…” Ginny said.
“This is… cool. You’d think I could get away with stealing it?” Harry said. That definitely wasn’t the reaction Ginny was expecting, but they hid the record anyway. They continued sorting the files, getting closer and closer to their goal. They talked during the process, about funny stories, schoolwork, their friends and eventually relationships.
“This slughorn-date thing is so upsetting. I was going to go with Dean but that's obviously not a choice anymore. I don’t know who I'll take.” she sighs, “I don't know any single people willing to go with me.” she glanced at Harry.
Harry only said, “That sucks. I was actually going to ask you.”
“Really!” Ginny said, shocked, looking up from her work.
“Yeah, but this afternoon I changed my mind.” Harry said.
“W-what? Any particular reason? Did I do something?” Ginny asked.
“No. It's pretty weird actually. I just- changed my mind…” Harry said, thinking about how weird his desire to take out Ginny disappeared. “Is it hot in here for you? Because I don’t feel good.”
Ginny ignored his question. “So who are you going to take out instead of me?” she asked, defensively. Ginny wondered why Harry was acting like a douchebag. Who tells somebody they were going to ask you out but changed their mind? Just don’t tell them! “Harry.”
She looked over to see Harry passed out, pale faced. “What are you doing, open your eyes!”
She shook him a bit. “Did you fall asleep? Wake up Harry! Madam Pomfrey! Harry wake up!”