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Ginny strides into the hospital wing about half an hour after they carried a knocked out Harry inside and put him in the bed next to Ron’s. She’s still in her Quidditch gear, hair pulled back in a ponytail that’s already starting to come loose. With a little sigh, she comes to a halt at the foot of Harry’s bed and stares at his motionless form.
“Nothing?”
Ron sits up in his own bed. “Nope. Didn’t move an inch. He’s gonna be furious when he wakes up, though.”
Ginny shakes her head a little at Harry and drags a chair over so she can sit between the two beds. She drops into it with a huff that blows a loose strand of hair out of her face.
“So I’m guessing you’re happy, huh?”
“Why would I be happy? We lost,” Ron says and puts an effort into looking suitably discontent.
Ginny scoffs. “McLaggen screwed up even worse than you did. The rest of the team is after his head as we speak. And you hate him.”
Ron shrugs noncommittally and they lapse into an awkward silence. For about five seconds, that is, because Ginny isn’t one to deal with awkwardness. She props her feet up on Ron’s bedside table and grabs one of his chocolate frogs.
“Harry was late,” she says, “For the match, I mean, before he got knocked out. Any idea why?”
“Nope,” Ron says, and watches as his sister bites off the head of her frog. “He was here before the match, if that’s what you’re asking, but definitely not long enough to be late.”
Ginny hums thoughtfully.
“What are you doing here, anyways?” Ron asks after a moment, “I thought you’d be after McLaggen yourself.”
“I don’t wanna be there when they find him, I’ll just hex him into next week and then McGonagall will have my head.”
“Wise choice. But, you know, I think one little Bat Bogey might not hurt. I’m sure McGonagall will understand.”
Ginny hums again and really looks at her brother for the first time. “How are you feeling?”
“I’m bored.”
“Want me to go find Lavender? I’m sure she could distract you. Then again, that might traumatise poor Harry if he wakes up in the wrong moment.”
Ron sighs in annoyance. “When are you gonna stop having a go at me?”
“When are you finally gonna dump her?” Ginny retorts unperturbedly.
“It’s not that easy, alright?”
“Oh right, I forgot, you have no experience. Want some tips?”
“No,” Ron snaps, “I want you to stop being so bloody mean all the time”
“Aww,” Ginny coos mockingly, “You wanna be friends again?”
“For Merlin’s sake, Ginny. You can’t be mad forever.”
With a huff, Ginny leans back in her chair and levels her brother with a look that says Try me.
“What do you want me to say? I’m sorry if I was acting hypocritical about the whole kissing thing. You have to get over that.”
Ginny waves his apology away. “I want to know why you think my love life concerns you. Who I go out with and who I kiss in public is none of your business. You don’t care about anything else I do, so why would you suddenly pay so much attention-”
“Bloody hell, Ginny, what do you think? Four years ago you nearly died because we didn’t pay enough attention to you!”
Ron looks a little shocked at his own outburst. Ginny, visibly deflated, just blinks at him.
“Don’t look at me like that,” Ron grumbles defensively. “It’s true, isn’t it? Percy was busy being Head Boy, Fred and George were busy doing whatever it is they were doing in their fourth year, I was busy with the whole heir of Slytherin thing and none of us noticed that you were possessed by bloody You-Know-Who!”
“Merlin’s pants,” Ginny says softly. She finally takes her feet off the bedside table, abandons her chair and instead sits down cross-legged on the bed by Ron’s knees. “Are you traumatised or something? Because I feel like, if anyone should be traumatised by that, it’s me.”
“Don’t be silly. But I would prefer if something like that didn’t happen again.”
“Okay, hang on,” Ginny says with furrowed eyebrows, “Four years ago I was eleven, lonely and stupid. I’m none of that today. And unless you plan on comparing Tom Riddle’s diary to Dean, I think we can agree that these are very different situations.”
“I know that,” Ron groans, “But the end result is the same, you get hurt. I’m the only one left here with you; Fred and George and the others rely on me to make sure you don’t get hurt.”
“Do you hear yourself talking? Because that’s mental.”
“You’re my little sister, Gin, it’s called being protective.”
“Overprotective, more like,” Ginny deadpans, “You do know that I can look after myself, don’t you?”
“Yes – Ginny, of course I know that, everyone knows that. But that doesn’t mean I can just turn it off, the - the protective thing. I’m sorry, but you’ll just have to deal with it.”
“Fine, let’s say I accept that. You’re still a filthy hypocrite.”
“I didn’t plan on getting together with Lavender right after we had that fight, you know.”
“You’ve been eating her face off all over the castle, it’s been disgusting.”
“Come on, Gin, I nearly died on my birthday. Cut me some slack?”
Ron grabs another chocolate frog and chucks it at Ginny, who catches it with the skills of a Chaser before it can hit her in the face.
“You’re still a hypocrite.”
“Fine, yes, I am.”
“You should really pluck up the courage to break up with Lavender.”
“I know.”
“And if you shout at me for kissing anyone in public ever again, I will Bat Bogey hex you.”
“Fair enough.”
Ron leans back against his cushions with a satisfied smirk. Ginny rolls her eyes at him and rips open the packaging of her frog.
“I think I’ll check up on the rest of the team, see if they found McLaggen yet,” she says through a mouthful of chocolate and gets up. “Maybe a tiny little hex… McGonagall looked pretty furious herself, she’ll probably let it slide…”
Absentmindedly, Ginny gets up and pats the still unconscious Harry’s shoulder as she turns to leave. “Hang in there, Potter.”
“Oi,” Ron calls after her, “What about me?”
Ginny turns around a few feet from his bed. “What about you? Ron, you’ve been lying around for days doing absolutely nothing. Do you really need any more pity?”
“Hey, I nearly died from poisoning! A little sympathy, please.”
Ginny laughs on her way back to his side. “Aw, poor thing. Do you want me to get Hermione so she can spoil you? Because I sure as hell won’t.”
Ron glares at her.
With another laugh, Ginny leans down to pat his head. “Alright, you hang in there, too, Won-Won. See you tomorrow.”
“I hate you,” Ron shouts after her, as she saunters out of the hospital wing with her ponytail swinging after her.
“You, too,” Ginny calls back cheerfully, waves without turning around and slips out the door.
Well, Ron figures, as he helps himself to his own chocolate frog and goes back to waiting for Harry to wake up, that’s about as good as it will get.