Milkshakes for the Emotionally Needy

"The hallway has a speed limit, Miss Weasley!"

Ginny whirled around mid-sprint and tumbled into the corridor wall. "Ow! Perhaps you should post some signs then!" She gasped with embarrassment. "Professor Dumbledore? Sorry!"

The silver haired eccentric chuckled. "That's perfectly alright, Miss Weasley, but where, as they say, is the fire?"

She gave him a quizzical look. "Fire, sir?"

"I am saying the expression correctly, yes? You were running rather quickly...Where's the fire?" He frowned. "I'm sure that's it."

Ginny was baffled. "Erm...yes, fire...of course." She gave a weak laugh. "I was just on a quest, sir."

The headmaster seemed curious. "A quest?"

"A mission to restore my reputation."

He smiled. "And have you no knight in shining armor to defend your honor?"

"You mean Harry?" she asked. She laughed. "He's part of the problem, not the solution. Besides, this fair maiden is fighting for herself."

"You're quite the feminist, Miss Weasley."

She nodded grimly. "When you're surrounded by boys your whole life, you've got to be."

Dumbledore gestured down the corridor and began to walk. "And where might this lady in arms be dashing off to in order to protect her dignity?"

Ginny trotted along beside him, surprised at the professor's sudden interest in her personal life. "The prefect's bathroom?"

He raised his eyebrows inquisitively.

Ginny forced herself not to think about how absurdly bushy old men's eyebrows get with age. Seriously, they looked like silver fuzzy caterpillars feeding upon his face.

"I see..." he murmured. "I do recall a bit of gossip scrawled in the third stall in what appeared to be the handwriting of a certain Ron Weasley."

She frowned. "Treacherous kin."

"Indeed," Dumbledore replied. He gave her a grave look.

"Before you go and hex the shit out of that toilet," he said, turning to gave out the window. "I must ask you, Miss Weasley..."

Ginny paled. "What?" Surely hexing toilets was perfectly legal.

"Could I have a milkshake?"

She recoiled. "A wha--I--er, you--and I--WHAT?"

The elderly man fell to his knees. "Don't hold back, baby! I hear you got the good stuff, and you know Daddy has a sweet tooth!"

"That is confusing and sick on so many levels I don't even know where to begin," she said.

He clutched at her robes like a crack addict surrounded by powdered donuts. "I'll be your sugar daddy, baby! I'll give you House Cup every year! I'll teach Harry how to kiss! I'll do anything! Just make me some liquid love, my culinary mama!"

She tugged free with as much dignity as possible. "Isn't there some kind of clause against this in the Student-Teacher Relationship Handbook?"

Dumbledore whimpered at her feet. "I love you!"

"You only love me for my desserts!" she cried. "Now piss off!"

Ginny turned back in the directions of the bathrooms and tried her best to erase the entire conversation from her brain.

The head masters sobs could be heard in the distance.

"I will not lose respect for Professor Dumbledore," she chanted. "I will not lose respect for Professor Dumbledore...even if he does have an unprecedented addiction to sweets."

"Ginny, what are you doing in this neck of the woods?" asked some Hufflepuff we've never heard of.

Ginny smiled. This boy was a prefect. Just what she needed to accomplish her goal. "Oh you know, just wandering the school...hoping I'd bump into you." She giggled. "Looks like my wish came true!"

The Hufflepuff blushed. "Me? But you never even talk to me..."

She touched his shoulder flirtatiously. "Of course not, silly! Don't you know girls at all? When we really like a boy, we never talk to them. We're too embarrassed."

"That makes sense I guess...but aren't you dating Harry Potter?"

"Dating is such a vague term," she said.

"Well, this is my stop," he said, pausing outside the prefect bathroom. "Nightly shower and all."

Ginny leaned in and gave him a come hither smile. "Mind if I join you?"

He blinked. "I don't know if that's appropriate. I mean, you're taken, it's a public restroom, and we've never even kissed before."

She sighed. "Then let me kiss you."

"Still can't get past the other thing."

"What? Harry?"

"Oh no, fuck Harry! I hate him for some reason or other. I meant the public restroom thing. They're hardly sanitary, and I'm not sexually adventurous. I'm barely even sexual, and I just--" He froze as Ginny jabbed her wand into his throat.

"Now listen here, Eunuch McPrudery!" She gave the wand a sharp stab. "I'm tired of pretending to find you attractive, especially when you're hardly repaying the compliment. I need to get into the prefect bathroom, and you're gonna let me in or else!"

The boy trembled. "Or else what?"

"I will do terrible things to you in the filthy public restroom!"

His face turned white. "Okay, I'll do anything you say, just don't contaminate me."

Ginny smirked. "There's a good boy. Now open the door."

He quickly fumbled his way toward the door. "My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard," he whispered.

She gritted her teeth and forced herself to ignore the password's clear reference to her infamous creations.

The door creaked open. Ginny prodded the boy in the spine. "Now get in there."

He obeyed nervously. The door closed behind them with a resounding thud.

Ginny ignored her captive and dashed over to the third stall as if possessed. She fumed at her brother's uncharacteristically legible graffiti.

For a good milkshake, owl Ginny Weasley.

She staggered back, blinded by rage. "Oh it's on!" She pointed her wand at the line of potties vengefully. "Prepare to meet thy doom, toilet!"