The Bet

By gbtso

“Isn’t it exciting, Harry?” asked Hermione, who sighed as she moved in from behind him and pointed to the middle of the Gryffindor common-room announcement board. “Things are going to be all-together different than two years ago…I just know it!” she said with bright eyes, clutching her books to her chest. Leaning in further and speaking softly, Harry could barely make out her voice as she murmured into his ear, “He’saskedmeyouknow!”

Harry smiled owlishly at his friend from behind his glasses. She was behaving much more like Lavender or Parvati than he’d ever seen her, reminding him his best friend was, indeed, a real girl. “That’s great, Hermione. I’m glad he didn’t wait this time. At least one of us learned our lesson from fourth-year,” deadpanned Harry, giving Hermione a lopsided grin.

“Who will you take?” asked Hermione, scratching the side of her head thoughtfully with her free hand. “Ginny’s obviously going with Dean, so she’s not an option,” she rattled, ignoring the pained look on Harry’s face as she mentioned the understandable pairing of Ginny and Dean. “Neville’s asked Luna, so she’s not an option, either. I suppose you could ask Lavender, but she’s been hinting at Seamus all morning so I reckon your chances of getting her are slim. You could always ask Parvati if you’d like to take a Gryffindor, but considering the hideous way you and Ron treated the twins in your fourth-year, I highly doubt she’d consider accompanying you this time. Wow, Harry…I really didn’t think this would be that difficult for you…” said Hermione as she finally drew breath and noticed Harry’s slightly-aggrieved expression. “As a last resort I suppose there’s always Romilda,” she teased.

“Y’know, I could go stag or not go at all,” said Harry, who wrinkled his nose and rolled his eyes in annoyance as he shuffled his feet uncomfortably. “It’s just a stupid ball.”

“Harry Potter, are you trying to get out of going to the Yule Ball?”

Harry looked at his trainers and closely inspected a spot near his left toe. “Just drop it, okay? So I don’t like to dance. You’ve known that for years,” he said as he looked into Hermione’s stunned face. “I reckoned maybe I could lend my dress robes to Ron. You could help him with an Alteration Charm to lengthen them a bit so he wouldn’t have to wear his Auntie Muriel’s old dressing gown.”

“You’re using Ron’s dress robes as an excuse for skiving off the Yule Ball?” asked Hermione incredulously. “You’ve got to be kidding me! He could go in his Auntie Muriel’s old knickers and I’d still be delighted to go with him. What’s your real reason, Harry?”

“All the good girls are taken,” moaned Harry, giving in to his perceptive best friend, knowing she’d never let the issue just drop. Just as he finished his sentence, Ginny and Dean breezed by the notice-board, laughing their way toward the portrait hole, painfully reminding him of his previous statement.

Hermione narrowed her eyes and dragged Harry by the arm to the common-room sofa, sitting him down with the determination of a woman on a mission. “Y’know, I reckon I just noticed something I should have seen a long time ago, Harry Potter,” she taunted. “It’s been swirling and floating around for weeks — maybe even months — but I didn’t put my finger on it until just now. You just watched Ginny from the moment she stepped off the dormitory stairs until the moment she disappeared out the portrait hole. You weren’t even listening to me. Once she was gone you actually looked crestfallen!” exclaimed Hermione.

Harry blanched and reached out toward Hermione, shushing her as he looked fretfully around the common-room for witnesses.

“Oh my,” gasped Hermione, her eyes wide as saucers as she brought a hand to her mouth. “That’s it. I really was just taking a guess, but I was dead on, wasn’t I? It’s Ginny. You’ve finally noticed Ginny Weasley,” she grinned in amusement. “Oh, Merlin. Oh dear, sweet Merlin. My Circe. Holy Athena. Galloping Hippogriffs. Does Ron know?”

Harry made a dreadful noise like someone choking on his own tongue. “No!” he answered forcefully. “He’s not going to, either! You’re not going to breathe a word of this, Hermione! D’you hear me? Not one word. She’s my best mate’s sister! This isn’t supposed to be happening! She’s with Dean! I’ve got a prophesy hanging over my head! Damn it, Hermione, this is not funny!” he hissed, pointing his finger and waving his hands about in noticeable distress, finally settling with both arms crossed petulantly about his chest as if shielding himself from Hermione’s onslaught.

Harry’s apparent dismay did nothing to assuage Hermione’s delight. She continued to laugh with mirth behind the safety of her hand as the light of her brown eyes danced with each breath she took in muffled restraint. “But it is, Harry. It’s wonderful. Ron must hear this! There’s no one he’d rather be with Ginny than you. You’re the only one who’s ever going to be good enough for her in his eyes. This thing with Dean? It’s just a temporary distraction, Harry.”

“Temporary distraction, my arse,” grumbled Harry as he pulled a wayward string on the cuff of his jumper. “You’re not the one who happened upon them as they ducked out from behind a tapestry on the sixth-floor last week. If that’s a distraction, I’d like to see what Ginny looks like when she’s serious about someone,” he growled, thinking of how he’d wanted to curse Dean’s bits off right there in the corridor after seeing the look of sheer glee plastered across his face.

“Well, if you want to know that, Harry,” stated Hermione gently, “all you need to do is watch her when she looks at you.”

* * *

Harry watched Ginny and Dean all through lunch in the Great Hall later that day, trying not to appear overly-interested in Ginny’s obvious bad mood and Dean’s noticeable frustration. Thinking himself a prat for wishing his dorm mate ill-will, Harry was washing down the remainder of his sandwich with the last of his pumpkin juice when he noticed Ginny leaving the Great Hall alone for her afternoon classes. Mesmerized, he watched the bounce of her step as it corresponded with the sway of the hair falling down her back in it’s loose ribbon…how the light from the charmed sky above them danced and reflected off the golden highlights in her auburn hair…

“Harry?”

Startled, Harry turned from watching Ginny exit the Hall to see Dean Thomas standing beside him with a sorrowful look on his face. “What’s up, Dean?” he asked, hoping Dean hadn’t caught him ogling his girlfriend.

“I’m sure you’ve noticed. Ginny’s upset.”

“Er, yeah, mate,” answered Harry, grateful for Dean’s timely excuse. “She’s a hard one not to notice when she’s angry. What’s got her going now?” he improvised.

“Mum’s sent me an Owl this morning. She wants me home over Christmas holiday. I’ve told Ginny it’s because of a family illness, but it’s really because Mum’s scored me some tickets to see West Ham.”

“Really?” asked Harry, suddenly interested.

“But Ginny’s really upset about the Ball, y’see. Until Mum’s Owl, I promised her we’d be going. She really wants to go,” said Dean thoughtfully. “But here’s my problem. There’re entirely too many blokes around here who appreciate Ginny’s assets — if you understand what I mean — and I was hoping you’d take her to the Ball for me,” grinned Dean conspiratorially as he cuffed Harry on the arm.

“Take Ginny to the Ball?” parroted Harry, staring blankly at the boy standing beside him. “For you?”

“Er…well, yeah,” answered Dean uncomfortably. “You’re like her brother, mate. There’s no one else I trust more than Ron to take her to the Ball. And she’s surely not going to allow Ron to escort her!” laughed Dean. “I mean, those dress robes!”

“Right,” deadpanned Harry. “Her brother. I’m like her brother. You trust me.” He couldn’t believe Dean Thomas was actually insinuating he was Ginny’s brother and he was trustworthy above all the other boys at Hogwarts. Ginny would probably be safer with a Slytherin at this point. He was sure Malfoy wasn’t having embarrassing fantasies every time she walked by or praising the Gods for books and robes because of the constant rise of things whenever she was around…

“I’m sure she’ll go with you. It’s the perfect answer to the problem, mate,” speculated Dean happily. “You get to go to the Ball with a beautiful girl ¾ although she is like your sister ¾ and I get to see the game of a lifetime. And Ginny can say she once went out with Harry Potter! We all win!”

Harry couldn’t believe Dean’s audacity. “Sure, mate. I’ll take her. Will you be telling her, or do you want me to?” asked Harry innocently. West Ham. The stupid bloke. If this was how much Dean respected Ginny Weasley, then Harry didn’t feel at all bad about possibly moving in on his territory. Now all he had to do was convince himself dating his best mate’s sister was a good thing.

Merlin help him.

* * *

Dear Gred and Forge,

It looks as if I may be taking your sister to the Yule Ball. Her stupid prat of a boyfriend has decided he’d rather see West Ham play than escort her to the Ball. He’s asked me to take her in his absence.

Stupid git.

Hermione mentioned Ginny was worried about her dress robes. She also said Ginny was going to write to you about some rubbish about testing products to earn money so that she could buy better robes.

Your silent partner wishes for you to extend your sister whatever credit she wishes. I will take care of whatever she needs. Please just Owl me and let me know.

Sincerely,

Harry

~

Dear Harrykins,

Do we sense a bit of animosity towards Mr. Thomas? We have always thought him a stupid bloke, especially when compared to you, whom we consider the ultimate of stupid blokes.

You must have it bad if you want to buy her clothes. Thomas would let her go purple and belch slugs before he’d spend his money on dress robes!

We’ve got ten Galleons on how long it takes you to kiss her.

Forevermore,

Your Partners-in-Crime

P.S. We’re assuming you’ve not told Ron because you have some hang-up about dating our Ginnikins. We’re giving you a week before we let the world know.

~

Dear Twins,

There’s nothing to tell. Dean’s asked me to take her. I told him I would. Ginny and I are good friends. I have more money than I know what to do with. End of story.

If you go telling stories, I’ll have to spill the news about your silent investor. I don’t think your mum will like that much.

Oh, and I won’t be kissing her. The reason I’m taking her to the stupid ball is because I’m like her stupid brother, after all.

Still respectfully yours after all things considered,

Harry

~

Dear Mr. Investor,

We kindly advise you our bet is still on the table.

We think your previous Owl is a load of rubbish. We used it to test one of our latest products. Based upon the orders we’ve been forwarding around for our sister, we’re not sure whether she’s dressing for a ball or a wedding.

The last Owl we received to forward along was an order for lingerie.

We kindly ask you: if there’s nothing to tell, why would our sister buy knickers? If she’d gone to the Ball with Dean, she’d be wearing the travesty mum bought at the second-hand shop.

Loving the torture,

The Entrepreneurs

~

Can we just keep these letters on topic? Like how much I owe you, for example?

Yours,

Harry

~

Harry sealed the letter and sighed. He was sure the twins were taking the mickey out of him. Why would Ginny buy knickers for the Yule Ball? The whole idea was ridiculous. He resolved to find Hermione and ask her just what Ginny was up to with the new dress robes. He was sure she’d have a logical explanation.

Harry glanced around the common-room for his friends and found them absent, so he decided to make a quick trip to the Owlery to dispatch Hedwig with his latest note to the twins. Returning his books to his room and grabbing a jacket and some owl treats, he headed off to post his letter.

He shielded himself from the wind and shivered as he entered the messy chamber of the Owlery and immediately realized he was not alone. “Ginny!” he exclaimed.

“Hi, Harry,” said Ginny with an unusual blush. “I was just up here to send a note to the twins when I realized Pig was gone. I really hate to use the school owls, but if I must…”

“You can use Hedwig,” offered Harry. “I was just about to send her out with a letter of my own ¾ ”

“Really?” smiled Ginny. “That’s wonderful! It’s not that I don’t trust the school owls, it’s just that this is really important and I’d hate for the letter to be lost. It’s time-sensitive, y’see,” she said, coloring again.

“Actually, I was about to send a note to the twins as well,” stammered Harry, whose glasses began to cloud from the warmth rising in his cheeks. “Er, Dungbombs… For Ron’s Christmas present ¾ ”

Ginny giggled. “Your glasses are fogging, Harry.”

“Er,” said Harry, who wished he could think of something intelligent to say. His cheeks were on fire and he was sure the temperature had warmed by fifty degrees. Considering he’d just vehemently denied having romantic feelings for Ginny to her twin brothers via Owl Post, his body said otherwise.

“Why don’t you let me do something about that?” asked Ginny.

“What?” squeaked Harry.

“Your glasses. I can charm your glasses so they won’t fog. Mum always does Dad’s in the wintertime ¾ ”

“Oh,” breathed Harry with noticeable relief. Ginny cocked an eyebrow and gave him a sideways glance. “My glasses. Sure. Okay.”

“Are you all right, Harry?” asked Ginny as she waved her wand over his glasses, immediately clearing them so Harry could see the concern in her brown eyes. “You’ve been awfully quiet lately. You haven’t changed your mind, have you?” she asked quietly. “I’m sure someone else will go with me if you’d like to take another girl to the Ball,” said Ginny as she looked down at her boots.

“No!” exclaimed Harry, resisting the urge to reach out and touch her hair. “There’s no one I’d rather take to the Ball, actually,” he said, smiling.

Ginny looked up, shocked. “Are you serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” countered Harry tenuously. “Why wouldn’t I want to take the prettiest girl at school to the Ball?”

Ginny flushed an intense shade of crimson and took a deep breath. “Y’know, Dean thought I should go with you because you’re practically one of my brothers.”

Harry called on all the courage that supposedly made him a worthy resident of the house of Godric Gryffindor. “Now, why would he think that?”

* * *

Harry trudged up the last flight of stairs to the seventh-floor corridor after spending two pointless hours researching a meaningless DADA essay in the library when he heard a fantastic row echoing from the stairwell. Just as he was about the round the corner, he realized Ron and Ginny were the source of the noise. Curious about what had them going, Harry hung back to listen to the brawl.

“You are not my father, Ronald!” spat Ginny. “You do not tell me what I can and cannot do!”

“I don’t care who I am! You’re not going anywhere dressed in those robes!” thundered Ron.

“Ron…” interjected Hermione meekly. “I think you’re overreacting a bit.”

“You stay out of this Hermione!” snapped Ron. “This is between me and my sister!”

“Don’t you speak to Hermione that way, you great, stupid prat!” screamed Ginny. “Mum and Dad know exactly what robes I’ve bought and they approve! You have no say in this matter! You can take your great, fat, thick head and shove it up your oafish, bony arse! You are not my keeper!”

Harry heard Hermione chuckle and Ron growl, and then the pattering of small steps running as the portrait hole banged shut, causing the Fat Lady to cluck with displeasure. Squaring his shoulders from the shock of what he’d just overheard, Harry stepped around the corner and into the fray.

“Hi, Harry,” said Hermione, rolling her eyes toward Ron, who was still an amazing shade of purple.

“Did I just miss something?” asked Harry, directing his question toward Ron, who growled and huffed and stalked off toward the common-room without answering. “Well, by the looks of that, I’d say I did,” he said, raising his eyebrows questioningly to Hermione.

“Ginny and Ron,” offered Hermione. “We were in the Room of Requirement earlier. I took Ron there to alter his dress robes,” she began thoughtfully as she conjured a bench for them to sit. “He’s grown, y’know.”

Harry nodded. “I should probably try mine, too. Before it gets too late to have something delivered.”

Hermione smiled and continued. “Ginny’s robes arrived yesterday via Owl-Post. She asked me if I’d make some minor alterations because she didn’t want to do it herself. She needed to make the changes while she was wearing the robes and didn’t want to ruin them, so she asked me. I told her we’d be in the Room of Requirement doing Ron’s, so she joined us. Ron flipped out.”

“What do you mean? Ron flipped out?” asked Harry.

“Her robes, Harry. She’s not thirteen anymore. She’s not that little girl who went to the Yule Ball with Neville two years ago.”

“Of course she’s not. But Ron sees Ginny every day. Surely he knows that?”

“He doesn’t see her like this, Harry,” answered Hermione with a knowing smile.

“What do you mean?” asked Harry for the second time.

“I reckon,” blinked Hermione innocently, “I’m going to let you see that for yourself.”

“Come on, Hermione,” said Harry with exasperation. “Surely you know I’ve been the one behind all this…I told the twins I’d take care of everything. You could at least give me a little hint.”

“You didn’t tell me!” scolded Hermione. She narrowed her eyes. “What have they told you?”

“Just a bunch of rubbish, really,” admitted Harry. “They told me she was dressing for a wedding. Then they Owled me some nonsense about knickers.”

Hermione laughed out loud and then noticed Harry was staring off into space with an odd look upon his face. “I wouldn’t necessarily call them knickers, Harry. Let’s just say certain types of robes require certain types of support. Leave it to the twins to Owl you and tell you Ginny was buying knickers for the Ball. How very classic of them,” she giggled.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. “Exactly why is she going to all this trouble, Hermione? Wouldn’t she have just worn the robes she already has if she’d gone with Dean?”

Hermione pondered the question. “Probably.”

“I don’t get it.”

“You’re a great, daft thing. How many times do I have to tell you?” asked Hermione with a look of annoyance. “Exactly how many times do you reckon I’ve heard a replay of your conversation in the Owlery?”

“The Owlery?”

“Oh Harry, you are so very clueless. It’s going to be such a pleasure to watch you as you’re smacked in the head with this come the night of the Ball,” said Hermione with a big, breathy sigh. Standing up, she offered her hand to Harry and led him back to the common-room, where they promptly resumed revision for the next day’s Herbology exam.

* * *

“Harry, can I have a word?” asked Dean the evening before he was scheduled to return home on the Hogwarts Express for Christmas holiday.

“Sure, Dean,” answered Harry, curious why his house-mate was concerned.

“Er, have you noticed Ginny lately?” asked Dean awkwardly, with his eyebrows scrunched together in a pained grimace.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean, mate,” said Harry.

“She’s been acting odd. Distant.”

“No,” said Harry with a tone of surprise. “Really?”

“Yeah. I’m wondering if I should really go home for the game now. Maybe leaving her with you for the Ball wasn’t such a great idea.”

“Oh.” Harry fought to keep disappointment from showing on his face.

“Seamus even said he heard from Lavender that Parvati said she thought Ginny bought new dress robes,” whinged Dean. “Supposedly there was some big row in the corridor about them between her and Ron.”

“I had heard that,” admitted Harry, “but I really don’t know one way or the other,” he lied.

“Well, make sure she has a good time. You can do that can’t you?”

“Sure, Dean,” said Harry with a small smile. “I said I would.”

Dean smiled as he patted Harry on the back. “I knew I could count on you.”

* * *

Harry looked in the mirror as he re-tied the knot in his bow tie for the third time. Giving it up as a bad job, he swore and turned to see an equal look of horror on Ron’s face. “You’re looking rather fit tonight, mate,” he teased.

“Shut it,” growled Ron, who was desperately trying to make his hair lie flat.

Gaping in mock disgust, Harry rolled his eyes. “I was being serious, you git. Those robes are much better than the frilly ones you wore a few years ago.”

Ron laughed nervously as he tugged his shirtsleeves from under the cuffs of his robes. “A remarkable improvement, wouldn’t you say?” he asked with a grin as he bowed with a flourish.

“I’d say,” agreed Harry with a hearty laugh. “No one’s going to accuse you of wearing Muriel’s knickers this time.”

“I reckon they’re not,” agreed Ron. “Say, Harry…I know you heard that row in the corridor between me and Ginny. I was being a bit, well, overprotective. But she is my sister, y’know.”

Harry raised his eyebrows. “Well, yeah, Ron. I’ve known that for six years. What’s different about tonight?” he asked uncomfortably, tugging on his collar which suddenly felt very restrictive.

Ron sighed and sat down on his four-poster, motioning Harry should do the same. “I know I’m thick. Most times it takes me eons to get things. But even I didn’t need Hermione to point this one out to me.”

Harry blanched.

“Well, y’see, mate…” stammered Ron, “you’ve been staring at Ginny’s arse for the better part of the term.”

“I have not…”

“Harry, please,” argued Ron with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Just let me get through this, all right?” he asked. “So I saw those robes… I freaked out a little. I’ve not seen my sister quite like that. Y’know, busty and leggy and stuff?”

“Busty and leggy?” choked Harry

“Er, well, yeah,” laughed Ron. “I reckon you’re really in for it tonight. Hermione and I have a bet on whether you’ll just plain pass out from the shock of it — ”

“That’s not funny, Ron.”

“What I’m trying to say is that it’s okay with me,” offered Ron. “I’d much rather it was you than Dean.”

Harry blushed to the roots of his hair. “Thanks, mate. I was having a bit of a problem with how to talk to you about it,” he admitted quietly. “About Hermione… she’s been waiting a long time for this, too,” said Harry, looking pointedly at his best friend.

“I know,” said Ron turning to walk down the dormitory stairs. “Now let’s go get the girls. I hear they’re excited to go to the Ball, y’know?”

“Let’s go,” grinned Harry.

The pair took the stairs to the common-room two at a time, where they stood and waited anxiously as girl after girl descended the dormitory stairs to greet her date or head off to the Great Hall. When Harry was sure the girls’ dorm had to be empty except for tittering first-, second- and third-years, he saw Hermione peek down the stairs nervously. Giving her a thumbs-up, he smiled warmly to calm her nerves and beckoned her down the stairs.

Harry watched his best friend in awe as she glided down the stairs, beaming at Ron. She was even more beautiful than he could have imagined her to be in sleeveless, burgundy dress robes with a gold sash. She had her hair twisted up in a complicated style Harry had never seen before and her eyes were smoky and alluring. She was wearing a sheer sort of wrap Harry was sure wouldn’t keep her warm; but as he glanced back over his shoulder at Ron, he decided warmth probably wouldn’t matter as Ron wasn’t likely to let Hermione get far from him for the rest of the evening.

Ron was speechless and began stammering as Hermione laughed. “If you think this is good, just wait until you see Ginny,” she teased.

“Nothing could possibly be more amazing than this,” breathed Ron as Hermione blushed prettily.

“Thank you, Ron. You’re looking quite well yourself,” she said in response as Ron returned her blush in kind.

Harry grinned at his friends and turned back toward the stairs when he felt his breath rush from his lungs and his head begin feeling woozy and faint as Ginny started down them. She was descending slowly, her eyes locked on his; wearing the most amazing dress he’d ever seen.

It was blue — a very deep midnight-ish sort of blue that set off the reds of her hair — and had this odd neckline that hung (Hermione later called it a cowl) and showed her chest in a way Harry reckoned was illegal. It had straps and no sleeves, showcasing her creamy, soft skin and the long, straight skirt had a slit, exposing her right leg very far up her thigh. She also wore strappy heels that were practically non-existent and Harry noticed she’d painted her toes a bright color of red.

Gasping for air, he focused on her face and noticed her make-up was done much like Hermione’s — dark and smoky — and her hair was braided and twisted into a more complicated style than even Hermione had attempted. He wasn’t sure this was the same girl who played on his Quidditch team and lived at the Burrow. This was a goddess…a dream. A busty, leggy, dewy-faced, creamy-skinned, bloody dream.

Ginny smirked as she stepped lightly off the last stair. “Flies, Harry. You should close your mouth. You’re drawing flies,” she laughed lightly.

Harry snapped his mouth shut and gulped.

“You like?” said Ginny, twirling for him, a gleam in her eye.

“B-B-Beautiful…” stuttered Harry who still couldn’t tear his eyes away from hers.

Ginny grinned evilly. “I shouldn’t bring this up, but I reckon this is better than an old match with West Ham, isn’t it?”

Harry’s eyes grew round as saucers as his mouth fell open again. “You knew?” he asked in disbelief.

“Of course I knew,” said Ginny gleefully. “I sent Dean an Owl today. Let’s just say he’s probably feeling very single about right now.”

“An Owl?” muttered Harry as he raised his eyebrows, realizing what she meant, hearing Ron and Hermione laugh at him over his shoulder.

“Harry, your tie is dreadful. Would you like me to tie it for you?” asked Ginny, looking him deep in the eye and stepping in close to pull the knot slowly undone. And then before he knew it, his hands were on her arms and then around her waist and he was pulling her into him and he was kissing her — and she tasted of strawberries and sunshine and wind and broomsticks and laughter and happiness — all the things he knew she was and everything he knew he wanted. Feeling her grin into his mouth, they both began to laugh when they heard Ron groan.

“Oi! I know I gave my blessing — but give it a rest!” he exclaimed. “I can always change my mind!”

Ginny pulled away and smiled up into Harry’s eyes, using her finger to wipe the lipstick from his lips. Turning round to Ron and Hermione she laughed and winked at her brother. “Make sure you’re around when the twins send you that Owl. I’m going to claim my twenty Galleons. I bet them both I could make it happen before the ball.”

Harry laughed out loud. Taking Ginny by the arm, he reckoned that was one bet he was happy to help her win.

~ fin ~