Setting: The Gryffindor Common Room
Summary: All is never well with the Gryffindors as Harry and Ginny add yet another fight to their ever escalating number of conflicts and angst. And also Doom.
The firelight flickered in the dimly lit room as Harry yawned and dipped his quill into the inkpot, blearily wondering what time it was. The quill scratched out some words onto the parchment - Harry always had a lot to write to Lupin, questions, mostly, though he tried hard not to ask too much about what the Order was doing. He stared at his pile of completed homework and felt immensely grateful that he and Ron had Hermione to help them whenever they returned from Quidditch practice to mounds of unfinished homework.
A quiet voice startled him out of his reverie. "Oh--hullo, Harry." Ginny stood at the top of the stairs, peering down at him.
"Hey, Ginny," he replied, glancing up at her briefly before returning to his letter.
Ginny twitched involuntarily. "Well, I suppose I'll just work on my Divination," she said to herself nonchalantly. "The tarot has been really interesting lately. Keeps talking about spurned lovers and gruesome murders." She settled herself into an armchair located conveniently near Harry.
"Okay." Harry didn't look up. "I didn't think you believed in any of that crackpot tarot stuff Trelawney garbles on about. Divination's a load of rubbish."
"Oh, I dunno," Ginny said cheerfully, "I think it might be accurate sometimes. It's just Trelawney who manages to make it all seem like a crackpot theory."
There was silence for a while. Then, Harry heard the sound of parchment tearing and crumpling. He ignored it and tried to focus on his letter.
Something small and compact hit the back of his head.
"What—" He turned around and saw Ginny staring at him. Shrugging, he turned back and continued writing.
Silence reigned for a good thirty seconds before Harry felt something bounce off his shoulder and deflect into the fireplace.
Exasperated, he swung around again. "Ginny-"
A wad of parchment hit him squarely between the eyes.
Harry grabbed it and threw it into the fireplace. "What're you doing?"
"Oh, nothing." Ginny shrugged. "I was bored."
"Well, don't," Harry tried not to sound annoyed. "Please," he added.
"Oh. I'm so sorry. Don't let me interrupt you from your work. I'm sure it's very important," she said, unable to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.
"Yeah, well..." Harry paused for a moment. "What's wrong with you?"
"Nothing!" Ginny scoffed. "Why would you think there's anything wrong?"
Harry shrugged. "I dunno. You're throwing paper at me because you're bored."
"So? Is it a crime to be bored?"
"Er - never mind," Harry said wearily. He'd never seen Ginny like this, and didn't think he was up to handling it. He wondered how Ron managed to live with Ginny for so many years without going starkers. "I'm off to bed then," he rolled up his parchment and stood up.
"Wait! Harry, wait!" Ginny stood up, looking confused. "I, er...isn't it a bit early for bed?"
Harry stared at her. "It's half past midnight."
"Have it your way then." Ginny plopped back into the armchair and picked up her Divination book. "Good-night," she uttered stonily from behind Chapter Nineteen, Page 632 of Doomsday Divinations: 1900 to 1999.
Harry stood in the middle of the room looking completely bewildered. "Gi - er - g'night then." He hastily amended his sentence.
"How can you just leave?" exploded from the silence behind him as he turned to go. "You gave me socks, Harry James Potter! WHAT D'YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF?"
"Dobby - Dobby gives me socks..." Harry began to back away from her slowly.
"YOU'RE COMPARING OUR RELATIONSHIP TO YOURS WITH A HOUSE-ELF?!!?" Long gone was the copy of Doomsday Divinations: 1900 to 1999, which had hit the ground with a resounding thump and thudded out of sight. Ginny stood up, fists clenched. Colour was rising in her cheeks.
"Why're you yelling at me?"
"WHY DO YOU THINK I'M YELLING AT YOU, YOU--YOU--BOY!" Ginny finished lamely.
"How would I know? I don't know why you've been doing all the - the-" Harry sighed exasperatedly and made a vague hand motion "Stuff you did lately!"
"I absolutely don't know what you're talking about!" Ginny crossed her arms over her chest.
"Traipsing off to the Chamber for I-dunno-what-reason and all that? We were all trying to help you but you wouldn't tell me anything until you got stuck it that - that - bloody Chamber and needed me to get you out!"
"What, is the Boy Who Lived the only wizard in the world who gets to keep secrets to himself? Can't you just admit that maybe - maybe - other people have bad days, too?"
"I - WAS - TRYING - TO - HELP - YOU. You'd gotten yourself into some complete mess and I was trying to help you, and you wouldn't let me. What, you'd rather I just left you in that Chamber?"
"Well, I'd be a little more APPRECIATIVE if you did something every once in a while other than GIVE ME SOCKS FOR CHRISTMAS or say 'Hullo, Ginny, good-bye Ginny' on the way to class!"
"And I'd be more appreciative if you don't shut me out when you have problems and then expect me to go get you when you get yourself into an ever bigger mess - before you starve to death - and then expect everything to be all nice and happy again!"
"I don't expect everything to be nice and happy, ever, Harry! I just wish...I just wish...sometimes...that it could be."
"Then whaddyou expect me to do?! Just forget everything and go kiss you and make it better whenever you summon me?!"
Ginny's voice had crept to a whisper. "Sometimes it's nice to forget."
"Look, Ginny," Harry tried not to grab her and shake some sense into her. "I don't know what you're talking about. It's late, and we've got classes tomorrow. I'm going to go - go to bed."
"That--that sounds like a good idea," said Ginny, casting her gaze uncertainly to Harry. Her eyes shone in the firelight, but from tears or passion he couldn't tell. "I'll just--just go off then."
"Yeah - okay," Harry avoided looking at her. "Bye, then," he said, before heading towards the boys dormitory.
Ginny watched him ascend the stairs for a few moments, then plodded dejectedly up the adjoining girls' entrance. Doomsday Divinations: 1900 to 1999 lay sadly abandoned underneath the armchair, already collecting dust.