Disclaimer:  Man, I get sick of typing these and  I bet you get sick of reading these.  So let's all do each other a favor:  Everyone yell at once:   I DON'T OWN ANYTHING!  Are we through?  Good.  Do we all understand each other?  Wonderful.

Summary:  Ginny hates Mondays and is obsessed with certain objects...  H/G fluff

Title:  Obsessed         

            Ginny Weasley was obsessed.  Ginny Weasley was addicted.  She couldn't help herself.  She was just so drawn to the bloody things.  She depended on them to get her through the day.  What would her friends say if they knew?  Ginny didn't know.  But she did know that this obsession was dangerous and would get her into major trouble one day.  Little did she know that this 'one day' would be today.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

            Ginny roused herself from a very deep and pleasant sleep.  Sitting up, she raised her arms over her head and stretched luxuriously.  Letting them drop into her lap, she looked around sleepily.  She saw her roommates rushing around madly, putting on makeup and picking up random papers from the floor.

            She yawned loudly, "Why are you guys in such a hurry, eh?"

            Nan Ripley was amazed, "Ginny, it's Monday morning and there's only fifteen minutes until breakfast!  Get your butt out of bed!"  Nan rushed into the bathroom just off their dormitory.

            "Monday?  Noooooo!" Ginny moaned, falling back onto her pillows.  Ginny hated Mondays,  she hated Mondays with a passion.  And do you want to know why?

            "First double Potions with Snape, then History of Magic with Binns, and then Ancient Runes," Ginny wailed to the empty room scattered with discarded outfits. "Why me?!"

            She dragged herself wearily out of bed and stumbled blindly towards the vicinity of the bathroom.  She crashed into Nan who was running out, her eyelash curler still attached to her face.

            "Ow!!  Watch it, Ginny," Nan warned, running out the dormitory door.  Ginny was left all alone.

            "Sorry, Nan," Ginny mumbled.  She finally managed to get into the shower.  It was only until the warm water was flowing over her that she finally woke up completely.

            "10 minutes until breakfast," the bodiless announcer's voice echoed in the room.  Ginny frantically rinsed the shampoo from her hair and dried off.  She realized she hadn't brought her clothes with her, so she wrapped the towel around herself, and crept into the empty dormitory.

            Locking the door quickly, she proceeded to tug on a pale green t-shirt and blue jeans, all in record time.  Pulling on pink socks, she shoved her feet into her sneakers.  She pulled on her black robes while dashing back to the bathroom.  She squirted toothpaste onto her toothbrush and began to furiously scrub her mouth.

            "Good morning, dear," the mirror chirped. "Making yourself beautiful for Mr. Potter are we?"

            "Gmmrph dibleybrfff," Ginny said, through her mouthful of toothpaste.  That was the last time she was ever going to mention one of her obsessions to a  mirror again.  She spat the foam out and rinsed her mouth hastily.  Whipping out her wand, she performed a Drying Charm on her hair, and soon the red masses were hanging straight and shiny down her back.

            "Bye!" she yelled to the mirror.  Grabbing her bag, she flew down the steps and sprinted across the circular common room.  Pushing the portrait open, she climbed through the hole and headed down the corridor.

            "Whew!" she said. "That was close."  She figured she had a few extra minutes, so she stopped to chat with a couple of her favorite portraits and paintings.

            "Hi, Millicent!" she called out cheerfully to a young lady dressed in a scarlet evening gown with black feathers.  "See any cute guys yet?"

            "Some," Millicent sighed, dramatically.  "But what chance have I, when I'm trapped here?"  Ginny giggled and waved goodbye.

            "See you later, Joseph," she shouted to a slim gentleman, whose garb befitted those who lived in the late 1700's.

            "Fare thee well, sweet Ginny," he called.  "Good luck with that slimeball, Snape!"

            "Thank you," she laughed.  Unfortunately, her time reasoning was way off.

            "10 minutes until class begins," the voice announced in a droning voice.  Ginny cursed, this meant that now she had less than five minutes to eat, and if there was anything she hated more, besides Mondays, it was rushing meals.  She ran even harder, and reached the top of the stairs that led to the Great Hall.  Ah, yes, the second object of her obsession.

            "There're are too many steps," she complained.  Then she smirked. "Oh well."

She ran her hand over the smooth polished wood, and after checking to see that the corridor was empty of any teachers, she seated herself on the banister and pushed off with her feet.

            Ginny was obsessed with sliding down banisters, any banisters.  Every chance she got, she slid.  This is awesome, Ginny decided for the umpteenth time as she sailed down.  Almost like flying, she thought.

            "But it's over too soon," she whispered, regretfully to herself.  Her eyes widened when she saw a boy standing right below the end of her banister!

            Right where I'm supposed to land, she thought desperately.  There wasn't enough time to warn him and she was going too fast to stop.

            I just hope he's not a prefect, was her last thought before she crashed into the guy.  They tumbled over and over the cold stone floor.  Ginny opened her eyes to find herself staring at the first object of her obsession.  Merlin, those eyes, why did they have to be so green?

            Harry Potter's emerald eyes were filled with laughter.  Ginny snapped back to reality.  She blushed furiously.  Here she was on top of him, in the middle of the hall, and all he could do was laugh at her?   Yeesh.

            "Good morning, Gin," he laughed.  Gin?  Ohhhh, how sweet!  Her insides melted.  All thoughts of breakfast immediately vanished from her mind.

            "Good m-morning," she stammered.  She tried to get up, but her robes were all tangled with his, and their bags weren't helping either.  She couldn't free herself.

            "I can't move--" they both spoke at the same time.

            "You first--" they said together.

            "No, you--" they chorused.  Ginny clamped her mouth shut to keep from laughing.

            "Oh, well, I guess you're stuck here with me, then," Harry said, casually.  His eyes twinkled at her and he grinned at her.  Ginny flushed but didn't lose her nerve.

            "Guess so," Ginny said, coyly, resting her chin on her hands.  She gazed impishly down into his face.  Merlin, he was gorgeous.  Harry gulped and it was his turn to blush.  Ginny smiled.

            "So," she said finally, casting around for a topic. "While we're here, how was your morning?"

            "You mean until you nearly broke my back?" Harry chuckled.  Ginny could feel it rumble in his chest.

            "Hey!  I can't help it, I love sliding down banisters!" she cried, indignantly.  "Besides what were you doing standing in my way in the first place?"

            "Waiting for you," Harry said, simply.  Ginny felt the Weasley red creep over her face and neck again.  Me? she thought and voiced it.

            "Me?  Why me?" she whispered.

            "Because," Harry breathed, reaching up to brush a stray lock of hair out of her face, and then let his fingertips trail down her cheek to her shoulder.  Ginny felt a delicious shiver run down her spine.

            "Because why?" she whispered.

            "Because Ron and Hermione were being idiots to each other," Harry's hand was on the back of her neck, pulling her ever so slowly towards him.

            "Oh," Ginny murmured, leaning down.  Their lips were mere millimeters apart when--

            "What  are you two doing?" Ron's voice shattered the would-be magical moment.  Die, Ginny thought angrily.  Harry cursed under his breath, but reached up.

            "Give us a hand, mate," he said. "We bumped and er- got caught up in each other." 

            "I should say so," Hermione said.  She helped pull Ginny up and Ron helped Harry.  They dusted themselves off.  Ginny was blushing again, Harry was pretending nothing had happened, Hermione was smirking knowingly, and Ron was, well, oblivious to the whole thing.

            "Would you look at the time?" Harry exclaimed, glancing at his bare wrist.  "Ginny, come on, I'll walk you to class."  He grabbed her hand and pulled her off towards the dungeons.  Ginny glanced over her shoulder in confusion to see Hermione smiling at her.  Ginny stuck her tongue out childishly, but Hermione just winked.

            Harry remained silent as they walked to Snape's classroom.  Ginny was beside herself with secret pleasure, because Harry had not yet let go of her hand.  They finally reached the door.  But before she opened it, Ginny turned to Harry.

            "Well, I'll see you lat--" her farewell was cut short and her eyes fluttered shut as Harry pressed a soft kiss to her lips. "--er."  She opened her eyes, he was gone. Her mind a muddle, she opened the door with twenty seconds to spare.  Ginny floated into the dungeon, a silly smile on her face.

            "Good morning, Professor!" she greeted the surly looking man, cheerfully.  Ginny conjured up a bouquet of bright flowers with her wand and laid them on his desk. "I hope you have a wonderful day!"  Snape, for once, was speechless, but I believe he was secretly pleased.  Her classmates' mouths were gaping open in shock; nothing like this had ever been witnessed in Hogwarts' history before, when it concerned the greasy-haired man.

            Ginny ignored them all and waltzed gaily to her seat.  She sat down, grinning crazily.

            Dear Merlin, she loved Mondays.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N-  Hope you liked that, because I loved it.  Review please.  Flowers, flames, send 'em my way. 

Luv always,

Margaret