Cobyco! (cobyco) wrote in hp500,

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Response #1 for "A Failure to Communicate"

Here's a little stuck-in-a snowstorm, haven't-yet-bought-a-Valentine's-Day-gift-yet-and-the-stores-better-be-open-tomorrow contribution. Spoilers for HBP.

Ron fingered the spine of “The Art of Kissing” on the bookstand for a couple of seconds before quickly putting it back on the shelf. “It’s got to be a book, right? What else would Hermione want?”

Harry shook his head sadly as they navigated around the Valentine’s Day displays in the book store. “So inexperienced in the ways of the world. She’s a girl. Go with the flowers and candy, mate."

“And a book.” Ron insisted.

Harry and Ron spent the next few minutes debating whether he should buy “The Science of Love,” “How To Say ‘I Love You’ in 100 Different Languages” or “Love: A History of the Word.”

“So,” Ron hesitated as he and Harry walked down a fresh aisle in the bookstore. “You getting Ginny anything?”

The relationship, or lack thereof because of Harry’s insistence that he and Ginny should stay as far apart as possible to help keep her safe from his Death Eater enemies, was still a small sore spot between the two friends.

Ron, frankly, thought Harry was being a bit of a jerk. “Like Death Eaters won’t kill Ginny simply because you’ve broken up with her! “ was his last word on the subject as they packed their bags in the Gryffindor Tower. By unspoken agreement, they had avoided the topic since.

Harry looked down at some fresh scuffmarks on the floor. “I can’t, Ron. Buying her a showy Valentine’s Day gift would be like putting a fresh target on her back.”

Ron, likewise, took time to carefully examine a book on football on a nearby shelf instead of looking at Harry. “Well, even if you’re not going to buy her flowers or a card, get her something. Like you said, you know how girls are. Don’t make her wait all Valentine’s Day and then have nothing show up. She doesn’t deserve that, man.”

Harry looked up thoughtfully. “No, Ron, she doesn’t. I’ll take care of it.” He then smirked. “Lots of experience with waiting all day for a valentine, hmmm?”

Ron grinned back. “Shove it, you. At least I got a girl.”

Harry slapped Ron on the back. “But not a gift. Pick something already, and let’s get to a florist.”


“Ronnie’s got a girlfriend, Ronnie’s got a girlfriend,” Ginny sang teasingly as Ron sat in the Burrow’s kitchen, all thumbs as he tried to get a red ribbon tied around a book, a box of chocolates and some tulips so Pig could head off to Hermione’s house.

“So, did you get anything?” A rapidly reddening Ron quickly changed the subject as Ginny sat down at the kitchen table with him.

Ginny tied a perfect bow on Ron’s chocolates and smiled to herself at his choice of “The Art of Kissing” before binding them to the flowers with her wand. “Some chocolates from Mum and Dad, and a couple of cards from some people at school.”

“Is that all?”

Ginny looked up at Ron. “Nothing from Harry, if that’s what you mean. I haven’t heard from him in the last few weeks.”

“He hasn’t talked to you at all?” Ron looked indignant.

“Not since you two went to London. Thanks for reminding me, dummy. ” Ginny flounced up the staircase toward her room.

A chastised Ron called up a “sorry” behind her as Ginny turned the corner toward her bedroom.

She froze as she heard a small rustle in her room, and slowly raised her wand as she shoved the door open. Her eyes caught the tiniest movement at her open window, and she rushed over just in time to see the last of a snowy white wing curl around the top branches of a nearby tree.

On her bureau in a small vase was a glowing red rose. Next to it, wrapped in pulsating pink paper, was a small square object and a note. Ginny unwrapped it and looked amazingly at the small square mirror in her hand. She picked up the note in her other hand and read it.

“Just because we can’t be together doesn’t mean we can’t talk whenever we want. If you want to speak to me, just say my name into it. I have the other one with me. You’ll appear in my mirror, and I’ll appear in yours. Happy Valentine’s Day.”

A smile blossomed onto Ginny’s face as she stretched out on her bed. Holding the mirror close to her face, she could feel a slight heat _ though whether it was from her or the mirror was debatable. “Harry.”

The mirror began to glow.

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