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The List by Hermione_Crookshanks
Chapter 2 : Internal Pining: Ginny's Essay
 
Rating: 15+Chapter Reviews: 131


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Well, I got chapter two out faster than I expected, but as I said, still expect slow updates. Teachers are pumping out a lot of homework until winter break, when things will hopefully calm down so that we can study for those lovely things called finals.

I hope you enjoy this chapter! I realize that the chapters are short, but they just seem to end where they do, and once I'm at that point, where it seems like a nice conclusion, I simply can't write anymore...

For those of you who also read I'm Not Neurotic! The Diary of Hermione Granger, you should probably recognize that my characterization is basically the same (except Harry isn't quite as...insane...this time). I'm rather fond of these characterizations, especially Ginny. I like a know-it-all Ginny (in a different way from Hermione), who is so full of herself it's disgusting yet you love her for it anyway...well, at least I do. You may also recognize some jokes (such as the initials one) that I reuse...those just happen to be some jokes of which I'm horribly fond, so forgive me for reusing my material once in a while.

As always, please review, as it means a lot. I can't begin to tell you how amazed and honored I was to receive 27 reviews for my first chapter.

Anyway, please, enjoy!





The Top Ten People Who Believe that Hermione Granger and Harry Potter are Dating

As recorded by Harry Potter

1. Ginevra “Ginny” Weasley

2. Ronald “Ron” Weasley

3. Terry Boot

4. Molly Weasley

5. Mrs. Granger

6. Luna Lovegood

7. Professor McGonagall

8. Draco Malfoy

9. Cho Chang

10. Viktor Krum





"Love is a friendship set to music."

~E. Joseph Cossman





As was custom on Saturdays, Harry and Hermione spent the day not in the Head’s common room, but in the Gryffindor Tower. It was a way to make certain that they weren’t cut off from their fellow seventh years and, apparently, a great opportunity for said fellow students to demand to know how far Harry and Hermione had gotten.

At the moment, however, no such accusations had arisen, and Hermione was taking the time to examine Harry’s so-called list.

“Oh come on, Harry,” Hermione rolled her eyes, “That list is completely wrong—”

“Is not,” Harry muttered under his breath.

“—and you know it.” Hermione crossed her arms across her chest as she finished, a sure sign that she was going to remain stubborn, as per usual.

“You can’t honestly think that they’re all wrong!” Harry exclaimed, clearly slightly frustrated.

“They are,” insisted Hermione. Harry raised his eyebrow at her. “Okay, so maybe a few of them are correct, but really – Cho? Viktor? Malfoy? Professor McGonagall? My mum?”

“Cho and Viktor both believed that there was something going on between us when we were going out with them,” Harry explained rationally. “Professor McGonagall asked me just last week what I planned on getting you for our five month anniversary (she suggested a jewelry store in Hogsmeade), Malfoy wanted to know if Ron and I were still friends now that I was going out with the...well, you know what he said. And I’ll have you know that the last time I met your mother, she said, and I quote, ‘The Bar on St. Agnes would be a marvelous place to hold a wedding. Hermione’s been fond of Italy since she was a little girl, and the beach there is simply breathtaking.’”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open. “I never heard her say that to you!”

“When we came back last year, she pulled me over to the side while you were talking with your father.”

“Oh I’m going to kill her,” Hermione seethed. “How could she do something so underhanded? I already told her during winter break that we were not, under any circumstances, going out!”

“She’s probably just hopeful,” Harry shrugged, dabbing his quill his ink well and then returning to the parchment in order to underline Ginny’s name five times and mark it with a star.

“Oh don’t be conceited,” Hermione said as she made a disgusted face. “You may have saved the wizarding world, but you’re not that great.”

“Try telling that to the five hundred girls who send me fan mail everyday,” Harry said, giving out an exasperated and highly melodramatic sigh. Hermione couldn’t help but express her amusement, but her laughter subsided once she noticed, out of the corner of her eye, Ginny working very hard on what appeared to be an essay. Now, Ginny was much more responsible with her homework than Ron or Harry, but all the same, it was a Saturday, and nobody in their right mind worked on their homework on a Saturday. Well, except for Hermione, that is. Then again, Hermione thought, many people would probably reason that she was insane.

Hermione realized that Harry had returned to decorating The List, and, knowing that he wouldn’t be paying her a great deal of attention until he had finished, Hermione decided to interrogate Ginny. Hermione stood up, dusted off her jeans, and marched over to the redhead.

“Hey, Gin,” Hermione said casually as she slid into a seat next to her younger friend.

“’lo,” Ginny mumbled, consumed with whatever it was she was working on.

“So, working on an essay for potions?” Hermione asked, looking at the already two-foot long parchment.

“Nope,” Ginny replied, her quill scratching at the parchment. “Harry asked me to write an explanation as to why I think you two are going out, or rather, in my own words, should go out.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped, for the second time in the last ten minutes, in utter disbelief. “Harry asked you to write an essay on us?” she asked in a monotone.

“Not exactly,” Ginny replied, biting her tongue as she finished a paragraph. “I just happen to really have thought this out. And you two just happen to give me a lot of support for my thesis and topic sentences.”

Hermione narrowed her eyes at what she now deemed the evil paper. “Give it here,” she told Ginny, grabbing the parchment so that Ginny’s quill made a huge black line across the bottom half of the parchment.

“Hermione!” Ginny cried out in indignation. “Why did you— ”

“Quiet,” Hermione instructed. “I’m reading.” Hermione’s eyes scanned the essay. Words and phrases such as, “sexual tension,” “lovey-dovey,” “perfect match,” and “initials” flashed before her eyes.

“What do initials have to do with this anyway?” Hermione demanded after finally finishing her skim.

“Actually, that was Luna’s idea,” Ginny answered. “She realized that you two have basically the same initials, except your last one is G. Such a shame that you weren’t born with the last name Puckle, or something. Then you both would’ve been HJP.”

“Puckle?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

Ginny shrugged. “Luna’s idea again. Can I have my essay back now? I worked two hours on that thing.”

“Gin, here’s a suggestion for you,” Hermione replied acidly as she handed the paper back to Ginny, “work on your real homework instead of assignments from Harry. I don’t care if he’s your Quidditch Captain and threatens to replace you as chaser. And for the love of Merlin, Ginny, don’t listen to Luna. The girl’s convinced that Quidditch teams are simply spies for the Minster.” Hermione got up and left Ginny, muttering, “Hermione Jane Puckle…honestly…” on her short journey back to Harry.

“You asked Ginny to explain why she thinks we should go out?” Hermione asked Harry, glaring at him accusingly.

“Actually, I asked her to explain why she thinks we look like we’re going out,” Harry replied, looking up at Hermione as if that made all the difference in the world.

Hermione gave a little roar of frustration and then flopped backwards on to a nearby couch.

Why?” Hermione uncharacteristically whined. “Why would you ask something like that? And of Ginny no less?”

“Because it makes a great addition to The List…?” Harry answered uncertainly.

“I was looking for an answer to my question, not another question,” Hermione informed Harry, pursing her lips.

“Because I think it’d make a great addition to The List,” Harry reworded what he had just said.

“I don’t think an essay needs to be attached to the list, Harry. It’s going to be long enough as it is. There are at least 1000 students here, and everyone one of them seems convinced that we’re going to get married next week.”

“We should disappear next week and see if they assume we’re on our honey— Wait a minute. An essay? What are you— ” Before Harry could even finishing asking his question, Hermione pointed in the direction of Ginny. Harry’s eyes wandered in the direction of Hermione’s finger, and his eyes popped open as he saw Ginny with parchment that hung off the table, with paragraphs written in small handwriting that could give Hermione a run for her money.

“Wow,” Harry gawked. “Either Ginny has a great imagination, or we need to stop being friends. Just joking!” Harry added reassuringly after Hermione gave him a withering glance.

“I honestly don’t see what they see,” Hermione sighed, scooting over next to Harry and laying her head on his shoulder. She slightly stretched her neck so that she could look at him.

“Neither do I,” Harry answered, wrapping his arm around Hermione’s shoulder and placing his head on top of hers. “I just enjoy to torture you about it,” Harry added, turning his head so that his face was a few mere inches away from Hermione’s.

Hermione laughed. “Why me? They think we’re in love with each other, remember?”

“Ah, but I’m the handsome bloke with a scarred past who saved the entire world,” Harry said with a serious expression. “You’re just the sidekick.”

Hermione gave Harry a, “Oh really?” look, and then gave him a small jab in the stomach by means of her elbow.

“Okay, okay!” Harry relented. “You’re just the amazingly intelligent side kick who happened to save my arse no matter what the situation was, even if you were almost dead, every single year since I was eleven.”

“Still not correct…” Hermione said in a singsong voice, giving Harry another little dig.

“Okay, you’re just the amazingly intelligent heroine who happened to save this helpless man’s arse no matter what the situation was since he was eleven,” Harry amended. “Is that better?”

“Much,” Hermione grinned as Harry laid his head back on top of hers. “You still didn’t answer my question, though,” she reminded him, forgetting herself that she had never actually asked a question in the first place.

“Which?”

“What do people see that make them think we’re a couple?”

Before Harry could answer, Ginny called over from her table, “Ever consider buying a mirror? It never lies you know.”

“Ginny…” Hermione began to warn, but Harry poked Hermione gently in the ribs and whispered, “Ignore her.”

“All right,” Hermione said grouchily. “But I’m not willingly doing so. Just for the record.”

“You never do anything willingly when it comes to Ginny,” Harry told her.

“Clearly I need to make some changes in certain friendships,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

“I heard that!” Ginny growled from across the room.

“Perhaps you’ll be able to take the hint then!” Hermione yelled back, twisting her neck to face Ginny.

“Not until you can take one,” Ginny countered.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means— ”

“FOR GOD SAKES, SHUT UP!” Dean, who had been sitting a little ways away, roared at the three. He stood up and stomped out of the common room and up to the boy’s dormitory.

“So touchy,” Hermione tched. She conjured a pair of knitting needles and setting to work on a pair of socks for the house elves. “I can’t believe you went out with him, Ginny.”

“Well at least I have the guts to have asked someone I liked out,” Ginny snarled.

“Ginny, I don’t like Harry,” Hermione repeated for what felt like (and most likely was) the thousandth time.

“Right, let me rephrase that: well at least I have the brains to realize when I like someone. I’m done by the way,” Ginny told the pair, picking up her four-foot long essay. She walked over to them and dropped it in their laps. “And I didn’t draw the proof from thin air you know.”

“You sure about that?” Hermione asked as she picked up the essay, but Ginny had scurried off to the girl’s dormitory.

“Shall I read it to you?” Hermione asked Harry, holding up the parchment.

“Why not?” Harry asked. “It might be entertaining.

“I bet it will be,” Hermione chuckled. “I’ll skip the introduction paragraph, because those are always rather boring, and we know what her thesis will be…here we go.” Hermione cleared her throat and began to read. “‘Harry and Hermione show that they internally pine for one another through their constant need to be in physical contact with each other. They are often found sitting together, with Hermione’s head on Harry’s shoulder and Harry’s arm wrapped tightly around Hermione’s waist or shoulder. This position, cuddling, as it’s more formally known, is one that couples often take. Clearly, on some subconscious level, they recognize that they are deeply in love with one another.”

Hermione’s mouth dropped open as she looked from Harry, to the parchment, and to Harry again. Their eyes met, and instantaneously the two leapt away from one another.

“Cuddle together?” Harry scoffed, combing his fingers through his hair. “Honestly. Where on earth does she come up with these things?”

“No clue,” Hermione replied, wringing out her hands. “Stupid essay, really.” However, she felt her eyes wander back to the spot where she had just previously been in Harry’s arms. “Very stupid essay with made up evidence that clearly is proof of an overactive imagination,” Hermione reiterated firmly.

“Most definitely,” Harry agreed.

There was silence, until Hermione quickly proposed, “No more sitting in that…that manner?”

“No more sitting in that manner,” Harry nodded. “We’ll show them that we’re 100 percent platonic.”

“Right,” Hermione said. She looked around the room and then sat gingerly on a red couch, as Harry nervously sat in the red armchair.

Both felt extremely uncomfortable, but neither was willing to admit how weird it felt to be sitting down and not in one another’s arms.




So...good? Bad? Not what you expected? Not living up to your expectations? Please let me know by reviewing! I really appreciate it. And yes, the relationship is moving faster than I usually move them...but you know me. I like to throw curve balls every now and then, so...well...honestly, at this point, I have no clue, so work with me here... *laughs*


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