Of Love and Nargles

Okay, so, when Harry is around, I can't really formulate a completely coherent sentence... Or eat anything without my elbow ending up in some kind of food — like a butter dish. But, that has nothing to do with the fact that I fancy him (because I don't). Like my dear (and completely non-loony) friend, Luna, says, it's all because of the Nargles.


4. In Which Fate Is Screwy

The Yule Ball had actually been quite fun. Well, as fun as dancing about with Neville can get. I think I might've broken a few toes, to be honest. But he was a perfect gentleman and even let me (not that it would have stopped me otherwise) dance with a few other guys. 

One boy in particular, Michael Corner, was very nice. He had even asked me to the next Hogsmeade weekend. I told him I'd have to do a rain-check, as every time I attempted to say yes a very vibrant picture of Harry kept popping up into my mind. 

The last few times my fantasy occurred, Harry had been sopping wet, having just emerged from the lake, and was shaking the water from his hair sexily. 

It was torture. Worse than being faced with a twenty foot high pile of waffles and not being able to eat any of them! Yeah, it was that bad.

"But," Michael had said confusedly, when I had used the same rain excuse for about the third time. "It's not supposed to rain."

I had tried to avoid him for the next months, with more than a few close calls. 

I had figured that he was either stupid (and therefore put into the wrong house) or he hadn't taken Muggle Studies... Or that Michael simply didn't have a muggleborn genius as his best friend. Cough, cough - Hermione!

Well, I guess not everyone could be as lucky as me.

Or unlucky.

I looked down at the hand Hermione was currently crushing in her ninja-grip. "Blimey, Hermione! Loosen up a wee bit, yeah?" I complained, trying to pull my crushed fingers from hers.  

"Oh, Merlin, Ginny!" she swung her head around to look at me, whipping me in the face with her bushy brown hair, and still not releasing my hand. "I'm so sorry! I'm just so-" 

"Worried," Ron finished for her, looking equally miserable. "Yeah, we know." 

It was June the twenty-fourth and we were in the stands of the quidditch pitch, looking down at the maze that covered my beloved pitch. Harry had been in there for about five minutes, and Hermione had started squeezing my hand ten minutes before that. I think my hand was turning purple.

Just lovely, no?

"Yeah, well, I'm worried, too — and you don't see me squeezing the life out of the person next to me, do you?" I snapped. Stress makes me crabby, okay?

Hermione blushed pink and let go of my hand with a mumbled, "Sorry." My mum (who seemed to have forgiven Hermione for 'breaking' poor Harry's heart) and Ron glared at me, while Bill chuckled amusedly.

"So," Bill started. "What were the other tasks like?" This had been about the fiftieth time he had asked that question, so I allowed myself a sigh as Ron launched eagerly into a play-by-play of the Second Task — a highly inaccurate play-by-play, I might add (because I'm pretty sure that the mer-people didn't torture them with seaweed before hanging them up by their toes over a pit of lava).

I rolled my eyes and settled in to my seat, my eyes swiveling to random things, like Professor Moody and his very creepy eye (who was prowling near the outskirts of the maze, probably keeping an eye on things), and a very awkward looking bird who seemed to be nesting in Luna's hair... Or was that a hat?

About an hour passed before I heard Bill speak, "Looks like it'll be a Hogwarts victory either way." 

I nodded absently, still squinting at Luna's hat. It took a minute for the meaning to sink in. "Wait, what?! What do you mean by that?" I looked around frantically as if expecting the answer to my question to be hovering above my head or hiding in Hermione's bush - Oh, erm, I mean... Hair. Hair, not bush...

"Krum and Delacour are out - have been for ages. Haven't you been paying attention?" Hermione asked me with a weird look.

"Oh, er..." I shrugged, trying not to look guilty for calling her hair a bush (and also for not paying attention). "Yeah, I knew that. Psshh! Of course I did!" I moved my gaze to the other side of the stands and started to count the people.




Yeah, I could've done that all day, but I finally just felt my patience leave me - kind of like deflating a balloon! "Blah," I commented loudly. "This is boring. I could go for some pie right about now." 

"Ginevra Weasley!" My mum scolded, looking cross. I honestly didn't understand what I had done wrong. "Stop it." 

I shrugged and turned to Ron. "You feel like making a trip to the kitchens?" He got a weird look on his face as if weighing his options and opened his mouth to speak when a few screams rippled through the crowd, the loudest from Cho Chang, who was just a few seats away. She had tears streaming down her cheeks and was looking in open mouthed horror at something on the field. I followed her gaze confusedly and felt a scream of my own rip through my throat.

Harry was in the middle of the field, clutching the Tri-Wizard Cup... 

... And the dead body of Cedric Diggory.

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