Emerald Eyes - HP one-shots

Little Miss Butter Elbows

A/N: Just something fun. Happy 42nd birthday, Ginny Weasley!

It had started, naturally enough, with Ron’s mouth.

But they only heard about it when this headline appeared on the masthead of the Daily Prophet:

HARRY POTTER AND GINNY WEASLEY:

The Love That Began With An Elbow In The Butter Dish

“Because of course, when he’s not stuffing his mouth with either food or Hermione, this is the kind of rot that comes out of it,” grumbled Ginny.

Harry let out a guffaw, then shut his own mouth as Ginny turned her dangerously flashing eyes on him.

“Ron didn’t intend to let himself be overheard,” objected Hermione, stung by Ginny’s remark. “He was reminiscing with George about amusing stories of you as a child, Ginny, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

Ginny flared up, of course. “Oh yes, that makes it all better, my life is only unintentionally being ruined because my gobshite brother decided to yammer about one stupid butter dish incident at the bloody bar of the Leaky Cauldron where everyone and their mothers can hear, and now it’s national news because nobody has anything better to do it seems than to pore over every detail of my childhood, just because I’m Harry Potter’s girlfriend!”

“Just ignore them,” said Hermione calmly, spreading marmalade on her toast. “They’re always writing equally-ludicrous nonsense about Ron’s Auror missions, and my elf rights work, and there are dozens of books and hundreds of newspaper articles about every detail of Harry’s life. This is a drop in the ocean compared to all that, you shouldn’t let it bother you. It’s only words anyway. Now, I really need to go, I need to look up something in the Ministry library,” she said, stuffing her sandwich in her mouth. “Fee ‘oo a’er.”

Harry shook his head as Hermione and her bulging briefcase vanished into the Floo before Ginny could do more than hiss in outrage. Some things stayed the same, even as they changed. At least Ron was away on a field operation for a couple of days, so the squabbling wasn’t quite as violent as it could have been... He reached over and gently tugged the Daily Prophet’s Entertainment section out of Ginny’s hands.

“Don’t read that stuff, please,” he said. “Hermione’s right. About the ignoring bit, maybe not about Ron,” he amended hastily, as Ginny’s head whipped round.

“I can’t just close my eyes and pretend it all doesn’t exist like Hermione and you do,” snapped Ginny. “This is my private life – our private life – that they’re prying into, and it’s not fair, or even accurate. People will read what they’ve written and get an idea of us that just isn’t true. And Hermione’s wrong; it’s not ‘only words’. Words are important. Words have power.”

Yes, and nobody would know that better than Ginny Weasley, reflected Harry. “I know, Ginny.” He pushed his chair back and patted his lap. She came over and sat down, sideways, and pushed a hand through his hair fondly.

“I did not love you just because you were the ‘Boy-Who-Lived’,” said Ginny. “You are nothing like what they write about you, and that is what I love about you.”

“And I love you because you are brave and clever and funny and understanding,” Harry said. He thought for a moment. “And also because you wrote amazing poetry, yeah that was when I knew...”