Unofficial Portkey Archive

I really do apologize for how long it's taking me to update...but the thing is this story is coming to a close, and I've worked so long with it...lol...it's like my baby. lol...again. Anyway, I'm just trying to make sure that it all works out correctly, so please bear with me. That and my exams are coming up...lucky me. Next Thursday I have French and Physics *dies*.

November 16,

And if one doesn't exist, I'll have to make it up.

*****

"Gin," I called after my racing redheaded friend. "Gin!" I ran after her, attempting to keep up, but was shortly out of breath and had to resort to calling after her, walking slowly while nursing a stitch on my side.

"GINNY!" I finally screamed at the top of my lungs.

Ginny whipped around, stopping about twenty feet in front of me. "What is it?" she demanded, placing her hands angrily on her hips. She was clearly not pleased with me for disrupting her pilgrimage to the Hogsmeade clothing stores.

"Could you please, for the love of Merlin, slow down," I begged her, finally reaching where she was. "I'm not an athlete. I don't play Quidditch. Therefore I can barely run, let alone keep up with someone like you."

Ginny sighed. "Fine. I just really want to get there."

"I couldn't tell," I said, sarcasm dripping from each word. Ginny glared at me but grabbed my hand as she continued. We didn't stop until we arrived in front of a small store with a sign on top that said, "Sickle Styles."

"Sickle Styles?" I snorted, staring at the name. "That has got to be the most ridiculous name of a store I've ever heard.

Ginny shrugged. "I suppose. But it is amazing clothes for amazing prices. Come on, we need to find you something." Ginny tugged at my cloak, and as reluctant as I was to go inside a store that sounded like a, well…I didn't know what it sounded like, honestly, but certainly not a clothing shop, I was even more reluctant to stay out in the blustery and extremely cold weather.

We entered the shop and immediately a woman with fake blonde hair, heavily painted eyes and lips, and a voice so sweet I thought I was going to die from disgust approached us and asked if we needed her help. Thankfully Ginny replied that she had everything under control, which she clearly did as she marched through racks of clothes, promptly arriving at the Dress Robes section.

"Sit there," she instructed me, pointing at a bench. "I'll find you something."

I made a face. "Ginny, why don't you let me pick for myself? I mean, I found my Yule Ball dress in fourth year, and I do remember quite a few jaws dropping."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, then you had a boyfriend, or at least something close to it. Now we're attempting to gain you a boyfriend. We don't need jaws dropping, Hermione, dear. We need men jumping you."

"I already told you that theory is simply ridiculous," I informed Ginny, sniffing slightly as I obeyed her earlier order and sat down. "And slightly disgusting, not to mention barbaric."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You think everything is barbaric," she retorted, and began her search for the perfect dress robe, her nimble fingers quickly going through the rack. After a few minutes a pile of dress robes sat on the bench next to me, ranging from forest green to hot pink.

"I want to tell you now," I notified Ginny as she motioned for me to stand up and try all the dress robes on in the dressing room, "that I will not try on anything that is a shade of pink."

Ginny turned around and, rather huffily, flung the five or so pink robes she had picked on to the bench.

"Happy now?" she demanded, returning to me.

"Very." I smiled sweetly at her. Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Now try these on," Ginny ordered, piling the robes into my outstretched arms and pushing me into a nearby dressing room.

"Thank you for being so patient and polite!" I called out behind me. I could've sworn I heard Ginny mutter something that included a few well-chosen curse words, but perhaps my hearing was deceiving me as I had about a mile-high of clothes pressed up to my ears.

I sighed sadly as I looked at the robes, knowing that if I tried all of them on it would take hours. I quickly found all of the blue and green robes, as those were the two colors my mother, and Mrs. Weasley, said fit me best.

From there I sorted out all of the robes with ruffles or lace, and I was finally left with three robes, two of which were green.

I tried both a green dress robe and a midnight-blue dress robe on, both of which looked exactly the same. They were nice, but I felt that they simply weren't what I was looking for. I then tried on the last dress robe, which was a deep, forest green.

The dress worn underneath, which matched the robes that went on top, flowed gently down to my ankles. It had a square neckline, which was covered in a row of tiny pearls. The over robe, as I called it, was held together at my waist by a gorgeous golden clasp, which had tiny engravings of roses and leaves, causing the robes to cling lightly to my figure. Now, I didn't have as gorgeous a figure as Ginny or Lavender (or even Parvati I noted to myself, uncharacteristically slightly bitter), but it was nice enough so that I could wear dress robes such as these and not feel self-conscious the entire night.

I stared at myself in the mirror for a few minutes and decided that I definitely approved. After all, it met all of my requirements: not slutty, nothing that showed too much cleavage (not that I had too much to show, but still), not pink, not lacy, not frilly, was blue or green, simple, and above all it had nothing to do with ducks. I looked out of the dressing room stall to ensure that no one else was around and then stepped out, presenting myself to Ginny.

Ginny seemed to light up as she gushed, "Oh Merlin, Hermione! You look amazing."

I couldn't help but blush and smile happily. "You think it looks alright?"

"It looks perfect!" Ginny beamed. "It was absolutely made for you."

Pleased by Ginny's response I returned to the dressing room to put my regular clothes back on. As I did so I couldn't help but point out to Ginny that, as usual, I was right: "I told you I could pick out the right robes on my own."

Once again I heard Ginny mutter, and I knew for sure this time that I had perfectly adequate hearing. She was most definitely cursing as if there was no tomorrow.

*****

November 17,

Oh Merlin. I thought she was going to help me. No, helping people is too easy for one Ginevra Molly Weasley. Ginny has to go ahead and decide that she'll set me up with a blind date for the ball!

Argh. Headache. Must stop now before head bursts.

*****

"I don't want to be set up," I hissed angrily at Ginny as we lugged our bags of Millennia Ball necessities (well, necessities in Ginny's world - dress robes, shoes, make-up, etc. Only I didn't buy any make-up, much to Gin's displeasure). Ginny had just informed me that she was going to set me up with someone.

"It will do you some good," Ginny replied back airily. "Besides, I'm sure you'll be perfectly happy with the result."

I glared at my friend. "Will it be someone I know?" I asked her waspishly.

Ginny smirked. "Oh yes, it will definitely be someone you know."

"That smirk worries me," I told her. "You're not setting me up with someone like Malfoy are you?"

Ginny looked as if she was going to be sick. "You honestly think so low of me?" she cried dramatically. She burst out into laughter a moment later. "No, of course not. I'm not thick, Hermione."

"Then who is it?" I asked her eagerly.

"You'll just have to wait for the 21st," she told me, taking up a brisker pace that I couldn't keep up with.

"I hate you," I mumbled, shifting the weight of bags from my right arm to my left.

"I heard that!" Ginny called behind her.

Ginny picked up speed once more, enough so that she ended up arriving at Hogwarts ten minutes before me. In fact, she ended up in my (well, Harry and my) common room ten minutes before me.

*****

Note to self: Honestly. Just change the password already. Quit the stalling. This is getting ridiculous.

*****

I walked in to discover, much to my horror, Ginny and Harry talking to one another in hushed voices. I stood there, my bags hanging at my side (which were very heavy, might I remind you), gaping at them. Finally, after dropping the bags I demanded of Ginny, "What are you doing?"

Ginny shrugged, a look of pure innocence on her face. "Nothing. Why don't you go sit by the fire and we'll join you shortly." I looked at Ginny intensely, but found I was unable to read her. Sighing, I decided to obey Ginny's request.

Setting my bags down and kicking off my flats, I curled up on the sofa, tucking my feet underneath me. I turned lightly so that I could at the very least see what was taking place between Harry and Ginny, but at the same time they wouldn't notice me. I placed my elbow and my lower arm on the top of the couch, leaning my chin on top of my arm.

I saw Ginny whisper to Harry, her hands, unfortunately, lay still at her sides, providing me with no hints as to the direction of the conversation. However, Harry looked over at me, and Ginny, after quickly glancing in my direction as well, diverted Harry's attention away from me. After a few more exchanging of words, Harry smiled widely, nodded his head, and, much to my confusion, hugged Ginny. Ginny, whose face had previously looked rather bleak, broke into a grin and bounced up and down happily. She too hugged Harry, and soon after led him over to where I was sitting.

In an attempt to appear as if I knew nothing of what had occurred between them, I swiftly picked up a book that lay on the side table, flipped to a random page, and began reading.

Ginny sat down on the armchair to my right, while Harry took the chair to my left. Over the top of my book I noticed that they were exchanging smiles, looking at one another constantly.

"Would anyone care to inform me what in the name of Merlin is going on here?" I asked finally, unable to take another of those sickeningly sweet looks that were so horribly uncharacteristic of Ginny.

"Nothing's going on," Harry replied quickly.

"You're lying," I informed him, setting my book down.

"Well aren't you Miss No-Nonsense?" Ginny giggled.

"I'm sorry that I find it suspicious that you two are exchanging the weirdest looks imaginable," I proclaimed, fuming.

"Nothing's going on, `Mione," Harry told me, rolling his eyes slightly. "You're too paranoid for your own good."

"And you're too presumptuous for your own good," I snapped at him. "Where on earth did you come up with such a stupid nickname as `Mione'? Since when have I ever gone by a nickname before?"

*****

I will admit, for a man I am supposedly head-over-heels in love with, I was treating Harry rather badly, but those looks were just so infuriating! Furthermore I've never enjoyed having nicknames. Anyway, my Great Aunt Catherine, who I hate with every fibre of my being, always thought it was cute to call me nicknames, including `Mione' or `Mi.' My parents didn't name me `Mione,' `Mi,' or `Herm' for that matter, as Ginny had tried earlier in the term. True, my parents chose the name Hermione to show off their intelligence, for how many parents named their child after a Shakespearean play (A Winter's Tale in my case), but all the same I was proud of my name. And Hermione Gingold had my name, and she was a lovely actress.

That was a rather long side-rant. I think I'll get back to the main story instead of boring you, or rather my future self.

*****

Harry looked daunted by my outburst, and quickly looked at Ginny.

"Did you tell him that I would enjoy being called `Mione'?" I demanded of Ginny angrily. Ginny sighed and then reluctantly nodded her head yes. "After I specifically told you that I disliked being called `Herm', where do you get off telling people that it's perfectly acceptable to call me `Mione'?" Even I must admit I was surprised by how upset I was by all of this.

Ginny stared at me. "Mione isn't Herm," she said finally, clearly offended.

"I don't care," I hissed at her, as Harry watched our quarrel, frightened. "You knew I hated nicknames. And you just decide to instruct people on what to call me. Well guess what Ginny it's my name! How would you feel if I told your friends to call you Ginevra?"

"Somebody hasn't had her monthly dose of chocolate," Ginny said bitingly, glaring at me through darkened honey eyes.

My own eyes narrowed into slits as I countered, rather weakly, "Sod off," and stomped off to my room, leaving a confused Harry, an angry Ginny, and a forgotten book behind.

After ten minutes of moping in my room for reasons I couldn't even think up, Ginny finally banged on my door. Not waiting for me to let her in, she flung it open and charged over to where I sat on my bed, hugging a pillow closely to me.

"What the bloody hell was that all about?" Ginny demanded, poking me roughly in the shoulder.

"Like you don't know," I said bitterly, turning slightly away from her.

"Actually, I don't, so why don't you enlighten me?" Ginny placed herself squarely in front of me, holding me by the shoulders so I couldn't turn away again.

"You and Harry," I said quickly, containing the urge to cry. "I saw you too! You don't want us together. You just tricked me. I saw the way you were whispering and then how you continually looked at one another and giggled. I'm not thick Ginny," I spat.

"Apparently you are," Ginny replied acidly. "Do you honestly think, after all of these years, I'd do something so…so…so Malfoy-like as that?" Ginny shook me slightly. "Well?" I gave a little sniffle. "Oh, stand up!" Ginny instructed me, looking disgusted. She jumped up from the bed and pulled me with her. "Look at you. You're pathetic."

"I am not!" I exclaimed, quickly wiping my eyes clear of any stray tears.

"Then quit moping around," Ginny told me. Realizing that I was still offended by her previous comment, she sighed. "Hermione, of course I don't think you're pathetic."

"Yes you do," I replied sadly.

"Okay, maybe just a bit," Ginny said, smiling gently. "But how could you ever think that I would do something like that?"

"Am I allowed to plead insanity?"

"Just this one," Ginny laughed.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Go on."

"What were you doing with Harry then?" I asked.

Ginny bit her lip. "Can't tell you."

"Were you setting me up with him?" I asked her, suddenly eager.

By now I could swear that Ginny's canines were piercing her lip. "Can't tell you that either."

"Does that mean that you did?" I interrogated her.

"It doesn't mean anything," Ginny replied firmly. "You'll just have to wait and see."

"You promise that this will all work out?"

Ginny sighed. "No, I don't." As my face fell Ginny quickly added, "But I'm doing everything in my power to make sure it does!"

I began playing with my fingers, thinking deeply. Something was bothering me, but I didn't want to sound accusatory. Finally I burst out, "I just don't get it Ginny!"

"Get what?" Ginny asked me, confused.

"Why don't you just tell Harry to ask me?" I begged her. "To the dance? I mean if you're so convinced that he…he reciprocates my feelings… Well, at least this way I'd truly know if he felt the same way."

Ginny blushed and I could have sworn I heard her mutter something that included the words, "children," "named" and "me."

"What did you say?" I asked her, raising an eyebrow.

"Er, nothing!" Ginny exclaimed. "Hermione I…I have to go," she said in a rush. "I'll talk to you later. And don't worry!" she added over her shoulder as she left my room. "You'll know by this Saturday!"

"I can't last four days!" I cried, but Ginny had already run downstairs.

I returned to my bed, with only one thought on my mind.

Ginny Weasley enjoys torturing me.

Sighing sadly I reached over to my nightstand where a box of chocolates lay that I had ordered from Hogsmeade a few weeks ago (if only my parents knew of my secret sugar stash). I took one and plopped it into my mouth, savouring the taste. I immediately felt happier.

*****

And people say chocolate isn't the solution to your problems.

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