Magic and Misperceptions Chapter 3: The Puddlemere United Celebration
By: AddisonJ
Beta: DeeMichelle
Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter. I am not Jane Austen either, but some dialogue between Ron and Harry is taken from her excellent Pride and Prejudice.
A/N: Many thanks for all the reviews this fic has received. It has certainly received more attention than anything I've written before and I hope it meets your expectations!
***
"Oh Merlin! I have never seen so many dressed up women in my life! It looks like free samples at the makeup counter at Harrods!" Hermione exclaimed when they arrived at the venue and saw the number of young women, many of them in tight dress robes and high heels. "Did they just walk up and down Diagon Alley and only hand out invitations to pretty witches? It's nearly a harem in here!"
Her housemates paused in their steps as well and surveyed the competition. Parvati let out a low whistle. "Shite," she started. "How will we find Oliver Wood in this mess?"
"Look for the biggest and loudest contingent of groupies," Luna thoughtfully suggested. "Come along; let's get some drinks to start with. Maybe this will all look better after a Butterbeer. Or two."
The four housemates made their way to the bar and queued for the Butterbeer, looking about for familiar faces. They soon spotted Cho, Dean, Susan, Neville and Padma.
"A bit crowded in here, eh?" Neville commented to Hermione. Hermione liked the quiet but strong Neville Longbottom. Luna had told Hermione that before the War, Neville was quite bumbling, but his heroic action of killing Nagini, the final Horcrux and sealing Voldemort's fate, rose him into the ranks of the rest of the heroes of Hogwarts. The ensuing attention and adoration boosted his ego so much that he was finally able to tell his grandmother that he did not want to be an Auror, but a herbologist, and to tell Padma Patil that he had always fancied her. Their wedding was shortly before Hermione's arrival in Britain. Although she had only met them fairly recently, Hermione discovered that she enjoyed spending time with the shy Neville and his clever Ravenclaw wife. She spent almost as much time with them as Luna.
"Yes, and there are quite a few young ladies here, Neville. Pity you're not single anymore or you'd have quite the pick tonight," Hermione teased gently. Padma overheard and gave Hermione a gentle punch to the shoulder. "Hey!"
"Hey yourself! Don't encourage my husband to wander, you French hussy!" Padma teased.
Hermione laughed heartily. One thing she certainly had never been called before was a 'French hussy.'
"You must have me confused with someone who's actually pretty," Hermione replied in playful honesty.
Luna shook her head, overhearing the conversation. "Hermione, you don't see yourself as others do. You're lovely."
Hermione shook her head in response. "Luna, I love you dearly, but you have rose- colored glasses." Luna seemed to be confused and looked at the Butterbeer in her hand. Before she could object, Hermione quickly interjected, "No, not literally! That's a Muggle term for being too optimistic."
"And what is wrong with being too optimistic? That's the way to be. It makes life so much easier and happier, don't you think?" Luna asked in her trademark fanciful style.
Hermione just smiled and shook her head. "Truer words have not been said. You're right, of course. I should try not to be so snarky." She turned to face Padma. "And I will begin immediately. You both look wonderful tonight. Marriage agrees with you both. I'm being quite honest and not snarky at all."
The Longbottoms accepted the complement with smiles. "Thank you, Hermione. I heartily recommend it. Now, if only we could find someone for you…" Padma started. Hermione raised her hands in defense, as if an actual physical attack were about to take place.
"Oh no! Not me! I'm enjoying my independence too much and work is too busy right now. I can't handle my new job and find a man right now, thank you very much."
Luna looked at her dear friend with a warm smile and glowing eyes. "Hermione, when you find the right one, I'm sure everything will fall into place." She looked at Neville and Padma who nodded.
"Can we change the subject? What's the occasion again? Puddlemere win the Cup?"
"They're playing an exhibition match against the Bigonville Bombers next week. They already defeated the Karasjok Kites yesterday and wanted to celebrate."
"By inviting every single witch in England?" Hermione queried.
"I think with Cho here, Scotland is included as well," Padma joked.
Just then, there was a commotion in the entryway. The group looked toward the entrance and saw the Golden Duo enter, with a gorgeous red-haired woman in a pink ensemble Hermione was sure would meet Lav and Pav's approval.
The two men could not look more different. Not only in coloring (one dark, the other ginger), but also in demeanor. The ginger-haired's face lit up when he scanned the room. He recognized some faces and waved greetings and some "'ello's!". His companion, however, scowled when he faced the large crowded room. He appeared to want to back out the way he came in, but his gorgeous date had a firm grip on his arm and proceeded to escort him inside toward the Quidditch team who were drinking in their private section of the venue.
Hermione eyed the Golden Duo; she was excited to see them in person. She had kept track of the rise of Voldemort and the War while she was at Beauxbatons. Both of the young men's faces were instantly recognizable: the ginger-haired man must be Ron Weasley and she did not need to see the scar on his forehead to recognize the famous Harry Potter. The family resemblance between the red-haired ones indicated that the woman was likely Ron's sister, Ginny, who was also part of the War. And, by the way she was holding onto Harry Potter's arm, there appeared to be a bit of personal history there as well.
Hermione had always wanted to meet the Duo, to thank them for stopping the spread of evil and intolerance in both her home and her adopted countries. One day … she knew her flatmates were all classmates of theirs, and it would be inevitable that they would meet. If not tonight, another time.
"Oi! Oliver! We were hoping to see you! Well done, man. You and the team. So when do we get season tickets now that we're back for good?" The ginger-haired man joked as he greeted the one-time Gryffindor Quidditch team captain.
A handsome young man approached the duo and gave them hugs. "Weasley! You're back! Harry! Ginny! Good to see you all! Let me introduce you to the team!"
Introductions were made, alcohol distributed and consumed, friendships reestablished.
***
For Harry, the party reminded him of everything he hated about life in Britain: the stares, the forced whispers when he and Ron walked by. He hated feeling as if he were on exhibit in a zoo. He helped defeat Voldemort; surely he deserved some peace and privacy, and could finally have a normal life? He was twenty-five years old and had no idea what normalcy was anymore. The Weasleys were normalcy, but were they really? The Burrow was loud, raucous, and now with Ginny seeming to harbor romantic feelings for him, increasingly uncomfortable there. And Fred's death still hung in the air. Everywhere, death hung in the air; Harry could feel the ghosts of the past lingering in the alleys and shadows, following them as they moved. That didn't happen in Asia. It didn't happen in North America. In Britain, however, Harry was haunted.
In response, he did what was second nature to him. He sealed himself tight into an expressionless, hard façade. A façade that only a few could even approach. He was comfortable with it; that's how he survived the potential of being murdered throughout his school years. That's how he survived the Dursleys for his first eleven years. And that was what Harry was doing at twenty-five, forming a hard shell around himself so that no one could enter.
***
Nature called for Hermione and she found herself queuing for the ladies' toilet with Lavender and Parvati. They had already consumed a few glasses of wine and were enjoying the scenery of the young male athletes. Hermoine was amazed that the girls' giggling could even increase from its usual levels.
"Mmmm…. Yummy! Look at Clark in those Quidditch corduroy trousers! They're tight in all the right places," Parvati whispered quite loudly to her housemates. Her 'whisper' was loud enough for other young ladies in the queue to smile and nod as well. It was also loud enough for Harry Potter to hear on the other side of an open window where he was standing, hoping to get some fresh air and to clear his head. He recognized Parvati's voice immediately, and correctly guessed that Lavender would be the next voice he heard.
"Ooooh! Yum! I'm surprised there's room for his wand in those trousers," Lavender added quite rudely.
Despite herself, Hermione let out a laugh. "Lav, you're quite rude!" she responded.
Harry's eyebrows arched. He hadn't meant to eavesdrop, but he did not recognize that last voice. It was in English, but accented like someone who had spent time on the Continent, a bit like Fleur Delacour. He glanced quickly inside and saw dark curly hair piled on top of an unknown young woman's head. Just as quickly, he hid back into the shadows.
"Oooh, and did you see that Ron and Harry are here? Lav, want to rekindle a bit of that sixth year fun with Ronniekins?" Parvati mocked. Lavender grimaced and Hermione cocked an eyebrow, waiting for explanation, which Parvati immediately provided. "Lavender and Ronniekins snogged their way through sixth year at Hogwarts. I don't think there was a single broom cupboard they left undiscovered!" The Hogwarts witches giggled at the memories and Hermione rolled her eyes.
"How about Harry then? He looks handsome tonight," Lavender suggested.
"Oi!" Parvati exclaimed. "I still remember that dreadful Yule Ball date with him fourth year! It was just horrible. Sorry, Lav, but Ron was dreadful for Padma as well." Parvati's eyes suddenly became distant. "Harry had a crush on Cho that year, but Cho went with Cedric Diggory to the ball. Poor Cho. Poor Cedric. She never recovered from his death. Have you noticed, she still has this sadness about her? Remember how vivacious she was before? And Harry. He never did well with girls, did he? He just dated Ginny on and off, but it all seemed too incestuous. I mean she's Ron's sister! He spends all his holidays with the Weasleys."
"Harry can be sweet, but he's just been so … angry the past few years. Remember first year? So sweet and shy. Then he just got angrier and angrier year by year," Lavender said.
You'd be angry too if someone was trying to kill you every year, both Harry and Hermione thought at the same time.
"And Cedric! He was the best of the best! So handsome, so strong, and brave, funny and sweet. Hermione, ooooh! He was perfection! We all were a bit in love with him." Lavender and Parvati sighed in unison.
On the other side of the wall, Harry rubbed his scarred forehead as his stomach clenched. Kill the spare! echoing in his brain. Cedric was the best of them. What did Dumbledore say? Good, kind and brave. That was Cedric. Why was he in Hufflepuff and not Gryffindor? Or even Ravenclaw, Cedric was smarter than people realized. Cedric was the first of his friends to die. Who else was murdered? Sirius, Snape, Tonks, Remus, Dobby, Collin, Fred, Moody, Hedwig. So many had died, and Harry felt each loss every day. Every day was a reminder of someone who was gone. And now, at this supposed celebration, these silly witches were reminding him of one of the best to die, and how superior that Hufflepuff was to him.
He fisted his hands and rubbed his temples, pulling at his already messy hair. Gods, why was he back in Britain? Maybe he could request to be transferred back to Hong Kong. There were fewer ghosts there. He swiftly exited the scene before he could hear anymore. Before he could see Hermione's face twist in sadness and anger, and hear her whisper, "Poor Harry. He must have ghosts."
Once Hermione exited the toilets, she sought out Luna and Padma, anxious for a change of discussion.
Luna was chatting with Ron and quickly motioned Hermione to join them. As she arrived by her best friend's side, Hermione was surprised and pleased to see Harry standing by his best friend. Yet he had a scowl on his face, quite in contrast to the wide smiles of both Luna and Ron.
"Hermione! Ron, this is the girl I told you about. Hermione Granger of Beauxbatons. She and I were pen pals while I was at Hogwarts!" Luna's voice lilted through the air, full of happiness to be shared.
"You never told me you had a pen pal, Luna," Ron pressed.
"Hermione was my rock. When I was blue, I would owl her, tell her my secrets, and she somehow made everything all right." Luna's eyes sought Hermione's as she gave her a smile full of love and compassion.
Hermione blushed at the sentiment. She was uncomfortable with praise, especially in front of a true hero.
"No, you Luna were kind enough to write to a homesick English girl in France," she replied.
"Hermione Granger, it is a pleasure to meet you!" Ron reached out and shook her small hand in both of his. "Anyone who looked after our Luna is already a friend of ours."
Hermione returned the smile and shook his hand equally heartily. "It's such a pleasure to meet you, Ron. It truly is." Don't be a fangirl, Hermione thought sharply to herself.
Ron motioned to Harry by his side, "And this Harry Potter." No other introduction was necessary.
Harry recognized the girl at once. If the accent was not a giveaway, the thick dark curly hair pinned up on the nape of her neck proved it. She was pretty in kind of an ordinary way, and he would have found her attractive if he wasn't so damn angry. Her smile, her curves, the twinkle in her eye and the intelligence behind them. Harry's eyes appraised her dress. Damn fine color on her, he thought. Tight in all the rights places and loose enough in others so she doesn't look like the other Quidditch tarts. With that thought, his scowl deepened to the point that Luna and Ron were wondering if he was channeling Professor Snape.
Hermione noticed how Harry scanned her, then scowled and offered a limp handshake. "How do you do," he mumbled as he quickly withdrew his hand from hers as if fearing contamination.
Hermione was incensed by his rudeness toward her. Why? What had she done, other than shake his hand? She could think of no reason. They had never met, she was sure she had no sort of reputation preceding her. Nothing made sense unless… was the Chosen One secretly prejudiced against Muggles? No, that made no sense whatsoever! Unless, did being a Horcrux for the Dark Lord change Harry's personality? It was a ridiculous idea that Harry Potter would be prejudiced against Muggles, but Hermione could think of no other reason for this behavior. She started to assess Harry under a new light and vowed to be quite cognoscente of his actions from now on. On the outside, Hermione smiled and shook Harry's hand. Inside, she decided that she would observe, analyze and wait to see if his actions would prove a terrible hypothesis. She hoped not.
Luna and Ron exchanged glances, confused and concerned by Harry's actions toward Hermione. Luna opened her mouth to say something, but Ron shook his head and pulled her onto the dance floor, saying "Dance, Luna?" The blonde witch nodded and they left to dance.
Hermione moved slightly so that she stood in front of Harry, almost goading him to react to her. She tried to meet his eyes, which he kept downcast, staring at everything and everyone but the witch in front of him. Hermione enjoyed increasing the tension, her hands clasped behind her as she gently rocked on the balls of her feet, waiting for him to make the first move, her head slightly tilted to one side.
"Mr. Potter …" she broke the silence, "dance?"
"Yes," he replied swiftly and grabbed the arm of Padma, who was the witch closest to him other than Hermione. Padma let out a small cry as Harry nearly dragged her onto the dance floor.
Hermione watched these actions open-mouthed, an expression duplicated on the faces of both Neville and Seamus as well.
"What was that about?" Neville asked.
"I have absolutely no idea. Does he usually react so when introduced to strange young women?" Hermione joked uneasily. The men smiled warily and shook their heads, glad she was attempting to make light of Harry's rudeness. Inside, she was horrified. Her hero was repulsed by her! She fought her hurt, her insecurity, to put on a brace face. She was afraid her earlier fears about Harry's possible prejudices were being answered.
"Honestly, Harry doesn't do that. Well, except for just now. With you," Neville added without much explanation.
"Hey there, 'Mione, let's dance! We'll show Harry what he's missing!" Seamus exclaimed. When Hermione threw her head back and laughed a bit louder than necessary in response, the Irishman grabbed her by the elbow and led her onto the crowded dance floor.
News of Harry's slight seemed to spread throughout the Hogwarts classmates, and they appeared united in their resolve to make it up to Hermione in every way they could. Hermione was never without a drink in her hand, an offer to dance, or a laugh when needed. For that, and everything they did, Hermione was truly grateful, and made sure to express it in her smile, her laugh, her joy. And every one of their actions made her happier that she had decided to return to Britain.
In a rare quiet moment, Hermione was sipping water (having switched from Butterbeer), enjoying watching the antics of the increasingly inebriated Quidditch players, their fangirls, and her new Hogwarts friends. Hermione could pick out instances where the Muggle term 'beer goggles' appeared to be at work, and she smiled to herself. What started out as a very public snub by the Chosen One was working in her favor. Harry's actions were concerning though and she had a feeling more was happening below the surface, when she heard Ron and Harry speaking not too far from her. (*Author's note: Ron and Harry's conversation here is paraphrasing Bingley and Darcy's conversation in P&P Chpt 3)
"Come, Harry, you should dance! I hate to see you standing all awkwardly by yourself, scowling like Snape," Ron said.
Harry just scowled some more. "I shall not. You know how I hate all this. And I hate to dance unless I know the partner. Your sister is taken," he nodded toward Ginny who was dancing with Dean Thomas, "and there is no one else I care to dance with."
Ron laughed and clapped Harry on the back. "Really, Harry! I have not seen so many beautiful girls in one place! There are so many pretty ones."
"You are dancing with the prettiest of them all," Harry responded.
Ron's eyes grew warm as he glanced at Luna, who appeared to feel his glance and return it, her eyes equally warm. "Yes, but her housemates are here as well. Look, there's one behind you."
Hermione froze, knowing full well that they were talking about her. She kept her face expressionless as she strained to hear the response.
"She is tolerable, but not pretty enough for me. She's not my type," Harry sniffed. Hermione tried hard not to frown as Harry continued. "You should return to Luna and her smiles, and don't waste your time with me."
"Harry! What is it? What's wrong? You haven't been this peeved since Umbridge fifth year."
Harry just shook his head in response. "I can't talk about it, Ron. I'm just tired. We just arrived from Singapore yesterday, and it's hard being back after so long. So many things have changed yet so many things are the same," he replied brusquely.
"So, it's not Miss Granger in particular?" Ron queried, eyebrow raised.
Harry half-smiled; his best friend knew him well. They bumped shoulders.
"You prat," Ron joked. "Well, tell me when you're less peeved. Luna loves her, so I do too, and you should as well."
"Luna is a very good judge of character. Perhaps I should reconsider my earlier actions," mused Harry, putting on the Potter charm again. Ron just laughed, shook his head and went to rejoin Luna.
Hermione watched Harry's face change from a charming grin to a hard line, and she suppressed a shudder. Her fears were coming true. She would certainly be keeping an eye on Harry Potter.
***
Later that night, Luna and Hermione sat on their sofa in their dressing gowns, cups of chamomile tea in their hands. They enjoyed the comfortable silence of close friends who don't need to fill every moment with talk.
"Luna," Hermione began, "did you enjoy yourself?" She raised an eyebrow at her best friend, who looked dreamier than usual.
"Oh yes," Luna breathed a response and took a sip of tea.
Hermione suppressed a chuckle. She took another sip of tea and tried to retain an innocent expression. "Ron Weasley looked quite nice tonight," she said, awaiting a reaction.
Luna's eyes grew wide at Ron's name and she took a sip of tea before she mumbled a "hmmm?" in reply.
"And he seemed quite taken with you. You danced nearly every dance together."
Luna sipped her tea and made "hmmmm" sounds in response.
Hermione tried not to laugh; she had to school her expression to remain neutral as she wondered how Luna would respond without that damn mug covering her mouth. If only she could get rid of that mug…. Hermione cleared her throat instead. "So, will you be seeing Ron again soon?" That's it. A yes or no question. Luna needs to actually articulate a response now!
"Mmfyef."
Hermione leaned forward. "Did you say something, Luna? I couldn't quite hear you."
"Yes. Yes, of course, Hermione. At Seamus' pub tomorrow. We'll all be there. Did you forget?" Luna asked.
Hermione smirked. Luna was quite clever behind that seemingly ditzy exterior. That's what Hermione loved about her: the intelligence behind the façade. And it was all genuine, not subterfuge to trap the unsuspecting who would only judge a book by its cover.
Hermione tried another approach. "Ron did seem quite taken with you. Did you date at Hogwarts?"
Luna shook her head. "Ronald? He actually dated Lavender for a while."
"Really? Where is she, anyway?"
"Lavender and Parvati went clubbing with some of the guys."
"Guys?"
"Oliver Wood and his teammates."
"Ah."
"No, Ronald and Harry did not join them. They said they were jetlagged and wanted an early night. We'll see them tomorrow."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "I didn't ask about Ron and Harry." When Luna looked directly at Hermione, the brunette gave in. "Okay, okay, I was thinking it."
Another silence followed, this time broken by Luna. "I wonder what's wrong with Harry?" she asked.
Hermione stared. "Was that not his normal behavior?" She had hoped her voice did not sound as sharp as she thought it did. Did Luna notice? The blonde witch noticed.
"Oh, no. Harry's actually a lovely man. Always treated me well. Stood up for me when I was teased."
"Harry Potter? The same man I met a few hours ago?"
"Yes, the very same. He's a bit shy, I think lonely. And sad. He lost so many in the war. He really has had a rough life. First, those dreadful relatives who raised him in a cupboard, then nearly being killed every year at Hogwarts, then having everyone important to him die, then nearly dying himself. Now he's uncomfortable with all the hangers-on he attracts since he's a celebrity, and lots of them were out tonight. Poor Harry."
"Poor Harry? Yes, he's had a dreadful life. But he's lucky to be alive! So many are not, and he should appreciate each day and make the most of it, instead of making other people's lives miserable!"
Luna widened her eyes at Hermione's rant. "You think he's trying to make your life miserable?"
Hermione nearly punched a sofa cushion in aggravation. "No! Yes! I mean, I don't like the way he treated me!"
"I know; Ronald and I are so surprised he wouldn't dance with you."
"I later heard him tell Ron that I wasn't pretty enough."
"Pah! I'm surprised to hear that! It just doesn't sound like Harry."
"I heard it with my own ears. Never mind!" Hermione swooshed her hand to emphasize her words. "I don't really care what Mr. Harry Potter thinks of me or my looks. I've survived for twenty-six years without his personal appraisal of me and I can survive another twenty-six plus without it as well. With that, I bid you goodnight." Hermione stood up and gave her friend a hug.
Luna returned the sentiment. "Good night, Hermione. Pleasant dreams. Watch out for the Cellacons. They feast on bad dreams."
Hermione nodded absently; she had been warned about the Cellacons on a nightly basis, and hoped that they would have no reason to feast on her dreams that night.
***
At Grimmauld Place, Harry, Ginny and Ron were drinking mugs of tea and discussing the gala as well.
"Oi! That was a singular evening! What pretty girls! What pleasant company! Excellent to see Oliver Wood and his teammates again. Hasn't changed a bit. And our fellow Gryffindors? Excellent all around!" Ron commented.
"One 'pretty girl' in particular seems to have caught your eye," Harry hinted, eyebrow raised.
Ron feigned confusion. "Oh! There were so many girls there …"
"One in particular you managed to dance with nearly the entire night. Did that escape your notice?" Ginny asked her brother as Harry chuckled.
"Oh, you mean Luna!"
"Yes, I mean Luna!" Harry copied Ron's tone.
Ron's eyes went soft. "She's an angel," he said, then changed to a deeper voice. "I mean, humpf, yes, she looked rather pretty tonight."
Ginny and Harry exchanged looks.
"By 'rather pretty' you mean you want to see her again and again and again?" Ginny queried.
Ron fussed with his collar in response. "Well, we do have the party at Seamus' pub tomorrow night." Ron caught Harry's look of dread. "Now, Harry, the old gang will be there! Seamus, Dean, Neville …"
"I hate these functions! I hate going out and dressing up and making small talk with people who are only interested in being around a supposed 'hero.' It hasn't changed. That's why I enjoyed Asia so much! I was just Auror Potter there. Here I feel like there are Rita Skeeters everywhere. Mind you, I bet that the front page of the Daily Prophet tomorrow won't be Oliver's Quidditch success but that the three of us showed up for the party! Ridiculous!" Harry ranted, pacing the floor while he pulled at his hair in frustration. He then threw himself into a seat and rubbed his head.
"I have to agree, Harry. The girls there were just dreadful, hanging on to you two! They all looked like tarts; I have no idea how you can stand it!" Ginny looked sympathetic and moved to rub Harry's arm in sympathy. Harry frowned, and then quickly moved his features to be expressionless as he deftly moved his arm out of her reach.
"I've always liked Luna, however. She's much smarter than people give her credit for, and she's genuine. She always supported me," Harry said.
A shadow passed over Ron's once genial face. "Are you referring to when I didn't believe you hadn't put your name in the goblet? Or when I abandoned you during the Horcrux hunt?"
"No, no!" Harry quickly responded and leaned forward in his chair, meeting Ron's eyes as Ginny moved to comfort her brother. "We've been over that a hundred times! You're my best friend in the whole world! I trust you more than anyone! It's always been just the two of us!"
"But I should have done more fifth year, when the Daily Prophet put out that tripe about you being insane for saying You-Know-Who came back. I knew you were hurting after Cedric died, but I didn't do enough. I should have done something, written a letter to the editor or something."
"Well, Luna contacted her father at the Quibbler and he was able to write an editorial. That helped."
"Boys! Let's not dwell on it! Ron, you saved Harry's life on more than one occasion! Let's call it even and get back to the topic. The dance!" Ginny played peacemaker and rubbed her brother's shoulders to release the tension building therein.
"You're right of course, Ginny. I'll shut my yob. Let me think more about the girls …"
"And one girl in particular …"
"Right! That's what I was going to ask! What's wrong with you and that French girl? Luna's new flatmate. Why'd you snub her like that? Luna's been telling me how wonderful she is and you just decide to publicly insult her," Ron queried.
Harry felt uncomfortable under Ron's gaze. He shifted a bit as Ginny decided to answer for him.
"She's got dreadful hair! Totally out of control. I wonder if she knows about Sleekeazy's. I could send her a bottle."
"No! It's not her hair! It's just-argh! I can't put it into words! She just hit a raw nerve!"
"She said 'nice to meet you.' Since when is a standard greeting hitting a raw nerve?" Ron asked caustically.
"No! I might have overheard something I shouldn't have, and she … she's just another one of those dreadful Quidditch fangirls or hero fangirls. I just don't like her."
"I did hear she dated Viktor Krum," Ginny added. Harry looked up quickly upon that news.
"Really? Hmph." He frowned. "I'm not surprised. She's probably aiming for Oliver next."
"I could set her up with someone to get her off your trail if you think she's your next stalker," Ginny teased. "Alan likes brunettes. And Cody would love that French accent …"
"Oh for God's sake, listen to you two! Harry, you're just being a prat! I thought she was lovely. And Ginny, you didn't even meet her! I, for one, actually had a conversation with her and she's wonderful. Very smart. Graduated top of her class at Beauxbatons. Considered the brightest witch of her age. Would have given Padma a run at Hogwarts if she had gone here."
"Well, why didn't she? She's English, isn't she?" Harry queried.
"Some sort of family emergency with the French side. Her mum's French. Whatever. Old news. Time for bed. Ginny, want me to take you back to the Burrow?" Ron asked.
"I can just Floo from here. G'night, Harry."
"'Night, Ginny," Harry called as Ginny took the Floo powder from above the fireplace and announced the Burrow as she disappeared. He was grateful the beautiful witch did not try to kiss him goodnight.
"Really Harry," Ron started as soon as his sister left, "can you at least try to be nice to this French girl? She's Luna's best friend and I'd like to see more of Luna."
Harry rolled his eyes. "Ron, I'm not even sure how Luna feels about you. I honestly did not see her treat you any differently than any other bloke there." Ron's face looked pained, so Harry continued. "All right, I can try to get to know this girl and maybe she'll have insight into how Luna feels about you."
Ron's features immediately reflected the sudden burst of joy in his heart.
"Right, mate! Excellent! Well, let's get some rest. It'll be a long night tomorrow. Seamus has the best parties! Wonderful being back in England, eh?"
"Yes, quite," Harry replied snarkily as he retired to his bedroom where he lay on his bed and tried not to think about witty girls with curly caramel colored hair and fine chocolate brown eyes.
***
Next chapter: the Lucas social gathering, or Hermione and Harry get more opportunities to bicker.
A/N: Please read and review!