Do The Voldy!

Chapter Two:

Evil Garden Chairs

A/N: Well I decided to write the second chapter in celebration of the fact that it is now (for me at least) officially the summer holidays.




10:59am, The Garden, The Burrow

I lost track of time in the kitchen.

I know how that must seem considering we have a gigantic clock hanging on our kitchen wall but, I'm telling you, chocolate cake is just too delicious to not give it your full, undivided attention!

So I didn't find out the time until Hermione walked into the kitchen (Fred had managed to call off the Bat Bogeys) and told me that Harry would be arriving any time soon and that she didn't think that I deserved to know after what I had done to her bla de bla de blaaaa but that I was her friend and it was her duty... I didn't hear the rest because I was too busy running past Hermione, shrieking like a mad woman.

Don't look at me like that.

It's not my fault.

You'd be doing EXACTLY the same if you found out that your crush was arriving at your house in precisely 5 minutes and you hadn't so much as tried to make yourself look decent.

I knew that I didn't have enough time to actually get changed or anything, so all I could manage was a quick rake through my hair with a brush, before I hurried outside and threw myself into a garden chair.

I needed to look casual.

Calm and collected.



The four C's! That was my plan!


11:15am, The Garden, The Burrow

... Things didn't go as I had planned.

After I had attempted to throw myself into a garden chair, the thing collapsed around me and fell down the hill that our house sat on.

So there I was; screaming hysterically, while trapped in a moving garden chair. And what should happen at this rather embarassing, mega humiliating moment?

Harry appears at the bottom of the hill and I just have time to shout "RUN FOR YOUR LIFE!!!", before he is suddenly bowled over and sent rolling down the hill with me.

"GINNY!" Harry shouts out, as we continue rolling down the hill.

"YEAH?" I shout back.


I was saved answering, when the chair suddenly crashed to the bottom of the hill and Harry and myself were catapulted through the air.

Harry landed on his feet.

I flew straight into a bush and landed on my arse.

Glamarous, eh?

Not the first impression I had been hoping to give Harry.

He didn't seem too bothered, though. He was laughing all the way back up the hill. I was blushing like mad and feeling like a right idiot. The fact his arm was around my waist didn't exactly help either. However, I did need someone to help me up the hill, because I had landed on... my leg... and it might possibly be broken... cough

Harry just rolled his eyes and grinned when I had told him this and began to help me.

Oh my god.

What is wrong with me!

Snap out of it Ginny!

You're not a liar!

... Ok, maybe you are, but lying to potential husbands- NO! I mean, potential just friends, is very wrong indeed!

Right. Now I'm starting to sound like mum.

Can I ever win?


12:01pm, My Bedroom, The Burrow

I just told Hermione what happened.

She hasn't said anything so far.

She's too busy rolling around on the floor, laughing.

Sometimes I do wonder why she's my best friend.

Hermione says it's because I haven't got a choice as she has to share my room and my toilet for six weeks a year.

My toilet? She has to share my toilet?

Wonderful comparison, Hermione.

The boys have gone to play Quidditch on the hill together. Fred, George, Ron and Harry.

I would have gone and played too but Hermione hates Quidditch and it wouldn't be fair to leave her on her own. Besides she's having far too great a time laughing at me.

I've been trying to persuade Hermione to let Luna cut her hair. By magic.

Luna's amazing with hair.

Hermione said she'd much rather have her hair cut the muggle way and that's only if she actually wanted to cut her hair and she doesn't.

I want to cut my hair but Mum won't let me. She says that my hair is beautiful the way it is and that I don't want to spoil it.

She almost had a heart attack when I said I wanted to dye it pink like Tonks.

Apparently Weasleys have had red hair since the dawn of civilisation.

I said that should mean it was time for a change.

Mum told me not to be so cheeky and that if I dared dye so much as a single strand of my hair pink then she would make sure that my room would be turned into a guest room and I'd have to sleep downstairs on the sofa.

It's a pretty effective threat.

Our sofa is crawling with fleas from Crookshanks.

Mum's tried everything but she hasn't been able to get rid of them.

They only doubled when Mum made the mistake of letting a homeless Mundungus crash out on our sofa for two days.

Oh oh.

Mum's shouting up the stairs that someone needs to dry the dishes.

Better sign off.


12:20pm, My Bedroom, The Burrow


I am a genius!

Mum's just come into my room.

I'm hiding under the bed.

Hermione's been forced to go downstairs and do the dishes.

Hermione is glaring daggers at me right now but she follows Mum to the kitchen anyway.

That's one thing I love about Hermione- she may be many things and she may be ready to give me a lecture on responsibility when she's done drying the dishes but at least she's not a snitch.


Maybe I'm no longer an evil genius.

Mum's just yelled upstairs that if I don't get out from under my bed and down the stairs in less than 10 seconds then I'll be washing the dishes for the rest of the week.


I hate Mum.


Please R&R!