Summary: Harry comes back from serving detention with Ron and finds Ginny and Dean in a rather compromising position. A strange and confusing set of new feelings erupts... like wanting to punch Dean Thomas senseless. But what's confusing Harry most of all is that Ginny no longer seems to be just Ron's little sister... she's a beautiful girl, standing right under his nose-- exactly where he hadn't been looking.
Edited by Moderator: Summaries should be concise and minimally formatted. They should not contain any form of author's note or pleas for reviews.
Categories: Harry/Ginny Characters: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 17
Completed: No
Word count: 68103
Read: 75408
Published: 01/15/05
Updated: 08/30/06
1. Snogging in the Dormitory! by CathCarl
2. Pay attention, Potter! by CathCarl
3. Girl trouble, my dear? by CathCarl
4. Advice From the Master (Master of Feelings, that is) by CathCarl
5. The Thin Line Between Love and Hate by CathCarl
6. Don't Kiss and Tell by CathCarl
7. Always and Forever by CathCarl
8. What do we have here? by CathCarl
9. Twitchy Little Ferrets Aren't Any Fun at All by CathCarl
10. Easier Said Than Done by CathCarl
11. What the Bloody Hell Is Going On? by CathCarl
12. Welcome Home by CathCarl
13. It's Like Magic! by CathCarl
14. What's All the Fuzz About? by CathCarl
15. 'Tis the Season to be Jolly by CathCarl
16. A Very Familiar Statue by CathCarl
17. You're supposed to apologize, Potter. by CathCarl
Snogging in the Dormitory! by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter One: Snogging in the Dormitory!
***
Harry and Ron trudged up the staircase to the sixth year boy's dormitory, wet through and thoroughly exhausted. The walk back from detention with Madam Hooch had left them both soaked and shivering. In Harry’s opinion, they shouldn’t have even had to serve the detention at all. Mud was unavoidable on the Quidditch pitch, and it wasn’t his or Ron’s fault if they tracked some in after a practice.
Bloody Filch.
Madam Hooch had finally called off the detention at two o’clock, meaning Harry and Ron had to walk back to the castle from the pitch in a torrential downpour with aching hands and empty stomachs. However, he was glad that she had let them off when she did. Snape had assigned them a longer-than-usual essay on the uses of Youth Regenerating potions, and Harry wanted to get it done sometime before midnight... even though it was a bit swottish to do homework on a Saturday. Hermione had probably already finished it, so he could ask her for help... though she would most likely scold him for doing so.
"It’s an NEWT-level class, Harry, what did you expect? That the work would get easier?"
He glanced at Ron and chuckled, knowing perfectly well that Ron would get reprimanded far worse than he, Harry, would if he asked for help.
“What?” Ron asked, then looked down at his shoes. “You know, I reckon we should take these off before going inside. Don’t want to get everything all wet.”
“All right,” Harry said. “We can take them off and do a drying spell.”
“Good thinking.”
Harry stopped at the top stair and bent down to remove his shoes and dripping socks. Ron shook his head as he wrung out his own socks, creating a puddle of water next to his soggy shoes.
“Bloody insane, this is. If it keeps up, we’ll be playing Ravenclaw in a gale.”
Vivid recollections of the last time he played Quidditch in torrential rain ran through Harry’s mind, and he shuddered. Ron noticed and gave him a sympathetic look.
“Sorry mate, didn’t mean to bring it up. Don’t worry. No dementors around here anymore.”
Harry nodded. “Come on, let’s get inside. I’m freezing.”
“Hang on- the spell.”
“Right.”
Harry spread out his socks, then asked “What’s the incantation for drying again?”
“Dunno. You’re the one who suggested it.”
Laughing, Harry began to open the door. “Oh well. Guess they’ll just have to air dry.”
Ron’s voice came from behind him. “Hang on”you never told me.”
Harry paused, confused. “What?”
“You never told me what you thought was so funny. . . you know, just a minute ago, on the stairs.”
“Oh,” Harry laughed, then walked into the dormitory. “I was just imagining what Hermione would say if. . .”
But suddenly Harry saw something that made his voice die in his throat.
“What’s up?” Ron asked, fixing him with a curious stare after he shut the door. “Is something wrong?”
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come. Quietly he raised his arm and pointed to Dean Thomas’s four poster.
A sinking feeling fell through his stomach as he saw Ginny Weasley kissing and being kissed by Dean Thomas while lying on his bed. He dimly noticed and was grateful that they were both on top of the covers. Ginny’s arms were around Dean’s back, and Harry nearly winced as he saw her grab at his shoulders. Clearly Ginny wasn’t holding anything back... The thought made Harry slightly ill. He knew perfectly well that Ginny had been going out with Dean since the summer... but that didn’t stop a sudden, fierce wave of totally irrational anger from surging up inside his leaden stomach. What did Dean think he was doing? He had no right to be kissing Ginny. The only person Ginny should be allowed to kiss was...
Harry’s mind reeled from the completely unexpected thought. But before he had any chance to contemplate it, Ron let out a noise like an angry bull.
“Ginny?”
Gasping, Ginny and Dean broke apart. Harry watched as her eyes traveled from Ron to himself and felt a savage sort of pleasure when she began to blush. Dean cleared his throat and fumbled awkwardly with Ginny as they tried to detach themselves from the mess of arms, legs, and robes.
“Here, let me help you,” said Ron in a vicious voice, starting toward Dean. Normally Harry would have held him back, but this time he couldn’t. He was so inexplicably angry at Dean and so confused about his most recent thoughts concerning a certain Weasley that it was all he could do not to punch Dean himself. So he watched as Ron strode toward Dean’s four poster, feet pounding and ears flaming. He had just reared his arm back when Ginny leapt in front of Dean.
“No! Ron, don’t. Please. Don’t overreact, we were just...”
“Snogging. In a bed. Honestly, Ginny, what were you thinking? What if someone else had walked in here, eh? You’d be pretty hard put to explain!”
The flush deepened in Ginny’s cheeks.
“And you!” Ron pointed to Dean, who threw a helpless glance at Ginny. “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing to my baby sister?”
Dean mumbled something unintelligible.
“What’s that, lover-boy? I can’t hear you.”
“Shut it, Ron!” Ginny shouted. “Leave him alone.”
“Ginny, be quiet.”
“No! Stop telling me what to do! I may be your sister, but I’m certainly not a baby. And honestly, Ron, we were just kissing.”
Most unfortunately, it was quite clear to Harry that they had been about to do a little more than just kiss. The top buttons on both Dean and Ginny’s rumpled, wrinkly robes were undone and Ginny’s hair stuck up everywhere. Obviously they had been going at it for quite awhile before he and Ron arrived. Harry was glad they came when they did. The thought of Ginny doing anything more than kissing with anyone else besides him made Harry almost ill.
Whoa. Anyone else besides you?
Where the bloody hell did that come from?
Harry’s mind reeled again. Ginny’s eyes met his and he looked down, letting Ron continue with his rant as he tried to figure out just what in hell was going on with himself.
“Just kissing? Ginny, did you forget where you are? You’re in a boy’s dormitory. You were kissing on a bed in the boy’s dormitory. You’re not even allowed up here!”
“Oh, like Hermione’s never been up here with you.”
Harry forgot his own predicament for a moment and glanced quickly at Ron to see how he would react to this blow. Just as he expected, Ron’s eyes narrowed and his ears flamed red again.
“That has nothing to do with this.”
“Sure it does! This is such a double standard! You can take Hermione up here and it’s okay, but the minute I come up here with my boyfriend it’s suddenly forbidden?”
Ron’s face contorted with anger. “Yes, it’s forbidden! You can’t come up here with anyone!” he shouted.
Ginny’s eyes darkened and her voice grew dangerously soft. “I can’t come up here?”
“No, you can’t!”
“You’re...forbidding me?”
“Yes, I am!”
Ginny paused to stare at Ron, breathing hard. Harry knew exactly why she was so upset. She was exactly like him in this regard”they both hated to be bossed around.
Harry saw Dean glance at Ginny again and felt another strong urge to punch him. He satisfied himself with clenching his fists.
“Sweet Merlin, Ron, who do you think you are? The sodding Minister of Magic? You can’t tell me what to do!”
“I’m your older brother, and I can tell you what to do all I want!”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah!”
Ginny’s eyes flashed and she took Dean’s hand in her own. “Sod off, Ron. Come on, Dean.”
She squared her shoulders and brushed past her brother with a haughty sniff. Dean followed, his eyes on the ground. Perhaps he was just trying to stay out of the line of fire. Harry found he didn’t particularly care how Dean was feeling at the moment”he was still too angry to consider it.
But suddenly Ginny’s eyes fell on his, and Harry felt his breath catch in his throat. Her hair was mussed, her cheeks were flushed, and anger still lingered on her face... but her eyes widened in surprise when she looked at him. Was it possible that she had been so tied up in her argument with Ron that she had forgotten he was standing there?
Ginny continued to stare at him, and he thought, for just a second, that her eyes softened when she looked at him.
With this look, Harry saw Ginny Weasley in a totally different light. Suddenly she wasn’t just Ron’s little sister, she wasn’t little Ginny Weasley who put her elbow in the butter dish, she wasn’t eleven years old and sending him singing greeting cards. She was just Ginny, a beautiful girl standing right under his nose, just like she had been for all those years.
And he fancied her. Hell, he might even... love her.
Harry swallowed. Hard.
“And just where do you think you’re going?” Ron shouted at Ginny’s turned back, apparently unaware that she had stopped moving.
Ginny kept her eyes on Harry and didn’t answer. Shut it, Ron, he thought. He could feel heat rising in his cheeks and knew his eyes probably gave him away, but he couldn’t bring himself to break her gaze.
The funny thing was, Ginny was looking at him almost exactly like he was looking at her...
“What are you doing?”
The voice didn’t belong to Ron. It was Dean’s and he
sounded furious.
“Potter! Stop”stop looking at my girlfriend like that!”
Harry ripped his eyes away from Ginny’s to look at Dean. Before he could say anything, Ron leapt forward again.
“Get out, both of you. Thomas, thirty points for snogging a girl in your dormitory. Ginny, thirty points for being in the boy’s dormitory.”
“Oh, come on, Weasley. Sixty points?”
“Do you want it to be a hundred?”
Dean closed his mouth and set his jaw. Without another word, he turned and started to leave the dormitory, pulling Ginny along.
“Wait, Dean...”
“Let’s go, Ginny.”
“You go. I... I need to apologize.”
Dean cast a disgusted look at Ron and Harry, muttered “Whatever,” and stormed out of the room.
Ginny remained standing in the doorway. Slowly she raised her eyes up to meet Harry’s. The look he saw confused him more than anything. It radiated everything he felt... even his confusion over this unexpected realization of love.
None of this made any sense. How was it possible for him to be in love, just like that? And what about Ginny? Hermione had said that Ginny had been over him for ages. She had gone out with Michael Corner and then Dean. He had just caught her snogging Dean in their dormitory. But the look Ginny was giving him clearly said that she didn’t care about Dean... it said that he, Harry, was the one in her heart.
“Uh, Ginny? You, er, wanted to say something?”
At the sound of Ron’s voice, both Harry and Ginny jumped. Harry felt a stab of annoyance for both Ron’s haughty tone and at being interrupted.
“I’m sorry,” Ginny whispered, keeping her eyes trained on Harry’s. “I really am. I didn’t want you to see all that.”
No more did I want to see it, Ginny.
“Good,” Ron said, striding toward his bed. Apparently Ginny’s abrupt change in behavior was lost on him. “Now, if you’ll excuse us, Harry and I have got to change.”
Ginny nodded and sent a sad look at Harry. She had just turned to leave the dormitory when Harry spoke for the first time since he entered.
“Wait!”
She turned, a hopeful look crossing her face. Harry opened his mouth and tried to voice the thoughts swirling around in his brain.
I love you. Be with me, not Dean.
“Ginny. . .”
Do it, Potter!
“Er. . .”
“Yes, Harry?” she said breathlessly. Their eyes locked again.
“I, uh””
He couldn’t do it.
Potter, you’re such a bloody coward.
“Take this,” Harry ignored Ron’s attempt to catch his eye and strode toward his trunk. He yanked it open and pulled out the Invisibility Cloak. Ginny’s eyes widened.
“Harry... is that an Invis””
“What are you doing, mate?” Ron sounded angry, but Harry ignored him.
“This is an Invisibility Cloak. If you come down alone from the boy’s dormitory, someone could see you, and then you would get in big trouble,” Harry explained to his shoelaces. He held out the cloak for Ginny to take.
“Thank you,” she said in a soft voice.
Harry stepped back and Ginny swung the cloak over her shoulders. With one last, sad look, she put on the hood and disappeared.
***
Pay attention, Potter! by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Two: Pay attention, Potter!
***
“. . . and we walked in, and Ginny and Dean were kissing on his bed. Can you believe it?”
“Oh, my goodness, Ron. I hope you weren’t too hard on them.”
“Hermione, they were lying on his bed, snogging. Of course I was hard on them.”
Harry moved peas around his plate with his fork, not feeling much like eating, even though he had missed lunch. He was only halfway listening to Ron, and barely heard when he went on to explain the argument, his taking off points, and Ginny’s apology. Hermione was enthralled, as usual, and wanted to know exactly what Ginny had said. Harry didn’t bother to tell her that what Ginny hadn't said was what was bothering him the most about the afternoon.
What had Ginny meant by that look, anyway? Did she mean to tell him that she felt the same way about him as he did about her? And how was it possible for him to discover such deep feelings in such a short time?
Harry glanced up the Gryffindor table to where Ginny sat with Dean, apparently unconcerned. How could she look at him like she had today and then go back to sitting with Dean, acting like nothing had happened?
Maybe nothing did happen, Potter... you probably just imagined the whole thing.
But the look in her eyes had seemed so real, so... desperate.
Harry stabbed angrily at his potatoes.
“Harry? Are you all right?” Hermione was looking at him with concern in her eyes, and Harry trained his eyes on his plate.
“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied automatically. “Just a stomachache.”
She would be able to see through it, but he didn’t care. Hopefully she would be able to tell that he didn’t want to talk about it.
“All right,” she said. Her tone told him that she didn’t believe him for a second, but thankfully she didn’t press the subject. Harry shot her a grateful glance, and she smiled.
“Did anything else happen to you two today?”
Yes. I realized I’m in love with my best friend’s little sister. Hah, hah.
Ron launched into his explanation of their detention, and Harry went back to only halfway listening, staring at his peas and wishing he was the one sitting next to Ginny.
***
Three weeks later, the incident in the boy’s dormitory went nearly forgotten. Hermione, in fits of brilliance they had all come to expect, had earned Gryffindor thirty points in one class and twenty-five in another, meaning the points taken off for Ginny and Dean didn’t much matter anymore. Ron was still clenching his fists whenever he saw Dean, but there wasn’t much Harry could do about that, because he secretly did it as well. Every student, the fifth years especially, was eagerly anticipating the Christmas holidays. Every student, it seemed, except Harry Potter.
It wasn’t that Harry didn’t want to see the Weasleys”he did. But leaving Hogwarts for Christmas meant going to Grimmauld Place”somewhere he hadn’t been forced to go since last summer, and somewhere he didn’t care to go again. Grimmauld Place was full of memories Harry didn’t want to dwell on.
Harry wouldn’t exactly admit to himself that one of the reasons. . . well, the main reason, really. . . that he was apprehensive about the holidays was because Christmas with the Weasleys meant spending time with a certain Weasley in particular. . . a certain female Weasley.
Harry had spent the past three weeks carefully avoiding Ginny wherever he went. It wasn’t too difficult, considering they were both immersed in work”Ginny for her OWL classes and Harry for his NEWT classes. However, living in the same House as Ginny did mean seeing her on a daily basis was almost unavoidable. Now, whenever he did see her, Harry would divert his eyes to the ground and pretend he hadn’t. He wasn’t trying to be cruel; it was just. . . so much easier when he didn’t have these bloody feelings clouding up his head. He could work more effectively. . . talk more effectively. . . play more effectively. . . . But Ginny was also a member of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. Now it was much more difficult to play Quidditch because, no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She was mesmerizing, really, with her long red hair and freckles and white skin and that radiant smile . . .
Stop it, Potter.
Harry sat in Transfiguration, trying to pay attention but failing miserably. It had been like this for the past three weeks. Any time he needed to focus, his brain seemed to automatically switch to thoughts of Ginny. She really was magnificent. He didn’t know what had taken him so long to notice. She was always smiling, it seemed, and her eyes always sparkled. But the one thing that made her Ginny was her hair. . . that famous Weasley hair. . . bright red and gorgeous. Sometimes she pinned or twisted it up, but on other days (those happy, happy days) she let it down. Harry remembered she had let her hair free on Tuesday just before walking up to bed...
Damn it, Potter! Pay attention!
McGonagall was now issuing orders to do something. Exactly what that something was, Harry wasn’t sure.
“Ron,” he whispered, “what’s going on?”
“We’re getting our raccoons from the front of the class when she tells us,” Ron whispered back.
So that was what all the boxes with air holes in the front of the room were for.
“And what are we supposed to do with the raccoons?”
“Transfigure them into. . . er”hang on. Hermione!”
Hermione turned around. “What?”
“What are we supposed to be doing with the raccoon?”
Her expression changed from curiosity to mild disbelief. “Are you really asking me that question?”
“No, Hermione, I’m not asking you what we need to do. Just like I haven’t asked you what we’re doing in class every bloody day for the past six years.”
“Well, maybe you ought to pay more attention. And don’t swear.”
“Hermione, is this really the time for a lecture?”
“Mr. Weasley, is this really the time for a private conversation?” McGonagall was standing over Ron, whose ears went red.
“No, Professor.”
“Good. Now, if you please, proceed with Mr. Potter to the front of the classroom to obtain your raccoon.”
Harry walked up the aisle to get his raccoon from the collection of boxes. As he made his way back, he caught a glimpse of Parvati and Lavender peeking into their own boxes. They seemed petrified. Come to think of it, Hermione looked a little nervous herself.
That was another thing he liked about Ginny. She wasn’t afraid... of anything. Perhaps it was a habit learned by growing up with six older brothers, but Ginny never seemed afraid of speaking her mind. And because she wasn’t afraid of speaking her mind, she was never afraid of putting him in his place. She didn’t give him special treatment or tiptoe around him like he was a bomb ready to go off. Harry liked that. She was so different than the other girls. Those girls spent all morning putting on makeup and detested getting dirty (or at least Parvati and Lavender did, from what he gathered from Hermione). Those girls looked at him like he was some sort of slimy plant they harvested in Herbology if he came into the common room looking filthy”but Harry noticed that Ginny looked at him the same way if he came into the common room covered in mud or immaculately clean.
Not that you've been paying attention or anything, right, Potter?
But the one thing that was really amazing about Ginny Weasley was that she didn’t seem to know how amazing she really was. Hell, he hadn’t noticed it, not until the evidence of just how taken she really was had been shoved under his nose.
She was smart, for one. Brave. Funny. Unpretentious, yet so stunningly beautiful Harry sometimes lost his breath when he looked at her.
Why had it taken him so long to notice his match, his perfect girl, the one he cared about most in the world, when she had been right under his nose the whole bloody time?
He found himself thinking of that day more than anything. At first, he had tortured himself over that look. What had she meant by it? Did she want him, Harry, to do something about it? But as the weeks passed and he looked back, Harry found himself hard put to remember anything with any real clarity.
Maybe he had made it up. Maybe he was just being stup”
“Harry!”
Harry’s head snapped up but bowed slightly as he realized that every single person, including a very angry McGonagall, was looking at him. His eyes fell to his box, which was still unopened, and he felt a dull flush rise in his cheeks as he realized that everyone (well, Hermione, at least) had a raven sitting on their desk. He threw a sidelong glance at Ron, who was suppressing a laugh, and then at Hermione, who looked thoroughly disapproving. Slowly, he raised his eyes to Professor McGonagall’s.
“Potter, detention and ten points for not paying attention in class,” she quipped in her usual crisp tone. Harry gave a defeated nod.
McGonagall glanced at the clock and sighed in frustration. “I suppose we’ll have to finish this in our next lesson. Please place your animals in the boxes provided for you and mark them clearly with your name. Carry them up to the front of the classroom and stack them neatly, then you may go. Homework. . . discuss why the similarities in the namesakes of ‘raven’ and ‘raccoon’ might ease the difficulty of Transfiguring the pair.”
A usual, collective groan rose from the class as they shuffled forward to put their boxes up. Harry felt slightly ashamed that he hadn’t even begun to Transfigure his raccoon... all because he was caught up in thinking about Ginny. Again.
You see, Potter, thinking about her too much has its consequences. Why can’t you just”
“Potter!”
Harry jumped, causing the raccoon inside his box to do so as well. “Yes, Professor?” he said.
“We need to discuss the specifics of your detention.”
Harry twisted around to see Ron and Hermione, who gave him sympathetic looks.
“Go on... I’ll see you at lunch,” he urged. They nodded and made their way out of the classroom. Harry set down his raccoon box and then stood in front of Professor McGonagall’s desk. She fixed him with a rather sterner look than was usual, and Harry nearly gulped. He hadn’t been intimidated by Professor McGonagall for a long while... he hoped the habit wasn’t starting up again.
“Mr. Potter,” she began, “would you like to tell me precisely why you have been so distracted these days?”
Harry nearly jumped again”he hadn’t been expecting a question. “Um... er, well... Professor””
“Because, Potter, I have noticed that you have been increasingly distracted over the last fortnight. Perhaps even a bit longer than that. I just wanted to remind you that this is an NEWT-level class, and low attention levels will not be tolerated.”
Harry gave another weak, defeated nod. “Yes, Professor McGonagall.”
The severity of her mouth lessened a little as he stood in front of her desk. “Now, Potter, I would really prefer for you to get your detention over soon. I’ll set it for this Saturday at ten o’clock.”
Harry, who had been preparing to dully accept whatever punishment she gave him, felt a flare of annoyance at this. “But, Professor, Saturday’s a Hogsmeade day.”
McGonagall gave him a stern stare. “Yes, Potter, I’m aware of that. Perhaps if you devoted as much time to paying attention in class as you do to learning the Hogsmeade schedule we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
So no time at all, then, Harry thought bitterly in his head. While it was true that the appeal of Hogsmeade had diminished somewhat since his third year, Harry had still been looking forward to the break. Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do. Harry sighed, resigned to his fate.
“I’ll be here, Professor.”
“Good.” McGonagall stood up and grabbed a stack of parchment on her desk. “Potter”you may leave now.”
Harry slung his bag over his shoulder and stormed out of the classroom.
***
Girl trouble, my dear? by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Three: Girl trouble, my dear?
***
“You’re joking, mate.”
Dinner had just finished and the Hogwarts students were filing back to their respective common rooms. Harry had just told Ron and Hermione that his detention was set for this Saturday. He smiled at Ron’s indignation.
“It’s all right. I guess I deserve it,” he said, knowing it would please Hermione. She grinned.
“Well, I won’t say you don’t deserve it, because you do,” Ron gave her a light punch on the shoulder, “but I still wish it wasn’t this Saturday. I’m surprised at Professor McGonagall. Normally she’s a little fairer than this.”
“It’s fine.”
Both Ron and Hermione fixed him with looks of disbelief. “Really,” he insisted. “It’s OK. It’s not like I don’t know how to get there, right?”
All three of them grinned at this. The one-eyed witch had indeed been very useful.
“And besides,” he reasoned, “I don’t want to bother you two.”
“Oh, Harry, you could never bother us!”
“No, mate, you wouldn’t!”
Ron and Hermione spoke at the same time, and Harry used that as grounds not to answer. Despite their adamant protests that nothing had changed in their friendship, over the past year a major development had taken place. With much urging on Harry’s part, Ron and Hermione had become a couple and, while he couldn’t be happier for them, Harry was a little tired of playing the third wheel. They did a good job of keeping their feelings under control while at school, but in other places, like Hogsmeade, Harry sometimes got the feeling that he wasn’t wanted. He knew it wasn’t intentional and he wasn’t insulted by it. . . Ron and Hermione deserved to go out on a proper date, without him tagging along.
And if he had to serve a detention for them to get one, so be it.
“Holly branch.” Hermione gave the password and the Fat Lady swung open. “Honestly, Harry, I do hope you know that you could never bother Ron and me”oh, hi, Ginny.”
Ginny Weasley stood in the portrait hole, a slight flush rising in her cheeks. Harry’s stomach turned over.
He hadn’t been so near her since they talked last . . . in his dormitory. But now here she was. He tried to keep his face impassive, so Ron and Hermione wouldn’t see how much he was affected by Ginny’s mere presence. It wasn’t easy.
“Hi, Hermione, Ron . . . hi, Harry.”
“Hey, Gin,” Ron answered.
Ginny climbed down to be at their level. As she straightened up, she let a bag fall to her feet. Her hair was up in a messy knot with a quill stuck through it and she had changed into Muggle clothes. The Weasley sweater she had on looked like it had been worn many times. The fabric was faded and it had obviously shrunk from years of use. Harry tried hard not to gape openly at her chest and forced himself to shift his glance. It wouldn’t do to goggle at Ginny’s body . . . especially right in front of Ron. But Ron was doing some gaping of his own.
“Gin”what’re you wearing?” He was eyeing her tight sweater like it was a large spider. Ron hated spiders.
Ginny rolled her eyes at Hermione. “Ron, it’s a sweater. Please calm down.”
“That’s not a sweater . . . that’s like a”a . . .” Ron searched for the right words. “It’s too small,” he finally finished.
Again, Ginny rolled her eyes. “Ron, it’s not too small. Stop being so overprotective.”
“I think she looks nice,” said Hermione, and Harry saw her wink at Ginny.
He hoped this conversation wouldn’t last too much longer. There was only so much he could take of discussing the tightness of Ginny’s sweater . . . it was too hard not to openly stare at her in the first place.
“Nice? She looks nice? She looks like a . . . a””
“If you say scarlet woman, I’m breaking up with you,” said Hermione in a stern voice. Ginny giggled.
“Fine. Don’t listen to me. All I’m trying to do is””
“Make sure I have no life,” said Ginny with a grin.
Ron swung around to look at Harry, his last chance. “Harry, what d’you think?”
Harry’s heart sped up in his chest and he tried to control his breathing. The three of them turned to look at him, expecting an answer.
Could he look at her sweater without looking like he was gaping at her? What would he say? Ron clearly wanted an ally, but he, Harry, didn’t want Ginny to be angry with him.
Hermione was eyeing Harry’s obvious embarrassment very closely. “Harry, don’t you think Ginny looks nice in her sweater?” she said in pointed deliberation, also giving him a small wink.
Shooting her a grateful glance, Harry nodded. He didn’t trust his voice at the moment.
“That’s settled, then,” said Hermione, speaking over Ron’s splutters of protest. “So, what are you up to, Ginny? Going down to dinner?”
Ginny’s ears went slightly pink while she answered. “I was just looking for Harry, actually.” She spoke in a deliberate tone, much like the one Hermione had just used, that meant she did not want Ron and Hermione sticking around for the conversation. Hermione nodded and smiled at Ginny, then grabbed Ron’s hand.
“Come on.”
“Wait”what. . .”
The portrait shut before Ron could finish his question. Harry felt his breath hitch as Ginny turned to face him.
“Hi.”
Harry cleared his throat. “Hi.”
The silence rang throughout the hall. Harry’s heart sped up even more as he dared a look at her. Her eyes were on the ground, so he allowed himself to study her for a bit. Her hair fell down everywhere in little wisps and her pale skin seemed to almost reflect the torchlight. Daringly he let his eyes wander lower to examine Ginny’s sweater. For the first time that night, he realized that it didn’t have the large ‘G’ he was expecting to be there, but a large ‘C’ knitted on the front.
Harry’s curiosity piqued over his embarrassment, and
he voiced his question. “Er, Ginny? Why’re you wearing Charlie’s sweater?”
He must have startled her, because she jumped, then reddened. “Oh,” she said embarrassedly. “Is it really Charlie’s?” She looked down.
“Unless there’s another brother I don’t know about.”
She gave him a surprised grin. “No, you know them all. I suppose this must be the sweater I took from his closet a while ago. . . I had no clean clothes to wear, so I was running around in my towel looking for something””
Ginny abruptly stopped, her face flaming. Harry imagined his matched. The mental image she had just given him was a little too much to handle at the moment.
“Anyway, I uh, I stole this from Charlie’s closet,” Ginny finished in a small voice.
An awkward silence descended over them. Harry shuffled his feet and tried not to look at Ginny’s sweater.
Tell her you love her! Tell her you can’t stop thinking about her! Tell her. . .
“You. . . you wanted to, er”to talk to me?”
Smooth, Potter.
“Yeah, I did. I mean, I do.”
Silence again filled the air between them. Harry wished he wasn’t so bad with words . . . wished he didn’t get so tongue-tied . . . she was just so beautiful. . . .
“Well. . . what is it?”
Great move, you prat. Now it looks like you want to get rid of her.
“I mean,” he corrected hastily, “can I help you with something?”
Ginny’s body relaxed slightly at his second question. “Well, actually, I have to give you something.” She reached down and grabbed the bag at her feet.
“Here,” she said, holding it out. “I’m sorry about getting this back to you so late. I just . . . didn’t get around to it. I’m sorry.”
Harry wondered what on earth she was talking about, but reached out and took the bag anyway. As his fingers closed over the handle, they brushed hers. At her touch, a chill ran down his spine, his hand tingled, and his breath hitched again. A few feet away, Ginny’s did the same.
Alarmed, they looked at each other. Harry noticed Ginny’s chest was rising and falling more rapidly now, just like his was.
Kiss her. Kiss her!
Harry cleared his throat.
Kiss her now!
"Er. . . Ginny, I””
Coward. Bloody stinking coward. She’s right there, all you have to do is”
“Ginny! There you are!”
The portrait hole had just opened, revealing Dean Thomas. Harry jumped away from Ginny, even though they weren’t standing very close together. He saw her try to hide her flaming face by ducking it down and tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. Dean clambered down to the ground.
“I’ve been looking for you,” said Dean, going over to Ginny and placing his arm around her shoulders. He was eyeing Ginny’s sweater in appreciation, and Harry’s fists clenched inside his robes. “Where’ve you been?”
“Just out here,” she said. “I had something of Harry’s I had to give back.”
Dean looked at Harry and grinned. He then turned back to Ginny. “Want to go on a walk?”
“All”all right.”
“Cool. See you, Potter.”
Harry gave him a nod while keeping his eyes on Ginny. Face still flaming, she fixed him with the look that had plagued his memories and dreams for the past three weeks. That look, that sad look of wishing, hoping, wanting, yearning.
Harry’s mouth dropped open.
Dean turned to leave and Ginny diverted her eyes away from Harry’s. Harry watched as the two of them disappeared down the corridor.
It wasn’t fair. It really wasn’t. This was the second time that she had given him that look. What did it mean? Did it mean that she wanted him to . . . to tell her he loved her? Kiss her? Did it mean that she wanted to forget about Dean and be with him?
More and more questions zoomed throughout his mind, making his head swim.
Was he just blowing things out of proportion? Was he just imagining things? And, if so, what did Dean Thomas have that he, Harry, didn’t? She had been in love with him for five bloody years, damn it! Didn’t that count for something?
Sighing, Harry shifted the bag in his hands and took a step toward the portrait hole.
The bag!
Wondering what she had given him, Harry peered inside. He couldn’t see anything. Perplexed, he stuck his hand inside and pulled out a fistful of silvery robe. His cloak! He had forgotten about it. It worried him slightly that he had gone and forgotten she had his Invisibility Cloak, something so completely out of character that Harry wondered how he even managed it.
It’s not exactly like you’ve been focused on your cloak these past few weeks, eh, Potter?
He had to tell someone about this; he was going to explode if he didn’t. All last year he had tried to keep his feelings bottled up, and he had ended up an angry, bitter mess. He had promised Remus and Mrs. Weasley that he would try to be better about confessing his feelings this year, and he wanted to remain true to his word. And seeing as he couldn’t exactly extract an objective opinion concerning Ginny from Ron, he was left with only one other option.
Harry put the cloak back into the bag and started toward the portrait hole. Once again, like it had so many times previous, Ginny’s image filled his mind.
Should have kissed her while you had the chance.
Harry inwardly kicked himself as he turned to give the Fat Lady the password.
“Holly branch,” he said through clenched teeth. She gave him a knowing smile.
“Girl trouble, my dear?”
Harry looked at her in surprise. “Holly branch,” he said more clearly.
“She obviously fancies you. A woman doesn’t blush for just anyone,” she said in a coquettish voice, batting her eyelashes.
Harry wasn’t in the mood to be flirted at by a portrait. “Holly branch!” he nearly shouted. Her face grew sullen.
“Oh all right, all right,” she said in a sulky voice, swinging forward to admit him to his common room.
***
A/N: Thanks to all of you who reviewed! And for those of you who can't wait for Harry and Ginny to get together. . . well, you're going to have to wait just a little bit longer. But it's coming! I promise!
Advice From the Master (Master of Feelings, that is) by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Four: Advice From the Master (Master of Feelings, that is)
***
A/N: There are mentions of R/Hr in the beginning. . . but seeing as this is filed under "H/G Romance," I don't think it will bother any of you. :)
***
Harry walked into the common room and made his way toward his usual armchair. As usual, Hermione was immersed in work. Ron sat next to her with an essay in front of him, but his eyes weren’t on the parchment. Harry smiled to himself”this was a common routine. Ron was pretending to work but really staring at Hermione. She knew he did it, Harry knew he did it, the whole common room knew he did it.
Harry hoped that his stolen glances of Ginny had gone unnoticed so far.
He sat down across the table from Ron and Hermione and chuckled when Ron gave him a sheepish grin, his ears pink. Hermione looked up, blushing. Even though she knew Ron loved to stare at her, she would never acknowledge the fact. At least not in front of Harry.
“Hey, Harry. What did Ginny want to talk about?”
After glancing around to make sure no one else was listening, Harry leaned forward and said, in a low tone, “She gave me the cloak back.”
Comprehension dawned on Hermione’s face and Ron’s lit up with a smile. “Excellent,” he said. “I’ve been wondering when she would.”
“I know,” agreed Hermione. “Haven’t you missed it, Harry?”
Both of them looked straight at him. Embarrassed at the blush threatening to creep up his cheeks, Harry ducked his head. “Oh, you know,” he said while raising a hand to flatten his hair. “I guess I wasn’t really thinking about it.”
Hermione frowned. “But it’s so unlike you to forget about something as important as your cloak.”
Taking a deep breath, Harry forced himself to look straight into her eyes. “I guess I’ve been a little preoccupied thinking about. . . other things.” He stared at Hermione, willing her to understand what he wasn’t willing to say.
Her eyes widened. “You don’t say,” she said softly.
Ron looked from Harry to Hermione, confused. “What?”
“Nothing, Ron.”
“It’s no big deal.”
They spoke at the same time, which made Ron grin. “Barking mad, the lot of you,” he said with laughter in his voice, and he bent down to really work on his essay.
Harry went right on staring at Hermione. “Ginny?” she mouthed wordlessly. The blush rose straight to his cheeks and Harry nodded. Smiling widely, Hermione leaned forward and whispered “Leave it to me.”
Leave what to her?
Hermione’s grin suddenly disappeared. She closed her eyes halfway and wiggled down in her armchair so her legs stuck way out, giving a huge yawn. Ron looked up, concern in his eyes.
“Tired, love?”
Hermione nodded and gave another huge fake yawn. While stretching her arms, she checked her watch and gave a jolt. “Oh, no,” she moaned. “It’s already eight thirty. I completely forgot about rounds.”
Ron turned a little more to look at her head on. He raised his hand to her face and tucked a stray piece of hair away. “I can cover for you, if you want,” he said in a low, soft voice.
Hermione smiled broadly. “Would you really?” she said through yet another yawn. When he nodded, she whispered “Thank you,” and, with a glance at Harry, leaned forward to give him a quick kiss on the lips.
Ears flaming, Ron stood up and straightened his robes. “I’m off, then,” he announced. Then, more quietly, to Hermione, “Sleep well, love, all right?”
Grinning, Hermione nodded. She watched him proceed out of the common room, still half slumped over in her arm chair. When Ron finally exited, however, she sat straight up, folded her hands in her lap, and fixed Harry with a stare.
“So, Harry,” she said in a businesslike manner. “Just how long have you been thinking about Ginny?”
Harry opened his mouth, but no words would come. How could girls do that? Just up and talk about their feelings like they weren’t awkward in the least?
“Er”well, I mean. . .”
“Oh, come on, Harry. I’ve been dying to have this conversation with you ever since you and Ron caught Ginny and Dean.”
Harry’s head snapped up. “What?”
“Oh, Harry, you’ve been so obvious. . .well, at least to me.”
“That’s so reassuring, thanks, Hermione,” he snapped sarcastically.
Be nice, Potter. She’s going to help you. It’s not her fault if you’re ruddy awful at talking about feelings.
“Look.” She sat forward more and fixed him with another appraising glance. “It’s only obvious to me because I know you so well. What I can’t tell is how you feel. I can only guess. I can guess that you’re bothered by Ginny and Dean. I can guess that you’re nervous around her.” Harry blushed even more and Hermione smiled. “Harry, those are only guesses. Please, just tell me.”
Harry took a deep breath and nodded. “All right,” he said, shifting in his chair. Hermione grinned.
“Start from the beginning.”
“Well. . . it all began when we caught Ginny and Dean in the dormitory. . .”
***
“. . . and when she handed me the bag, my hand kind of””
“Touched hers.”
“Yeah, and. . .”
“You felt something.”
“Yeah.”
“Like a jolt of electricity.”
“Yeah!”
“Do you know if she felt it too?”
“Well, we both kind of jumped. And then we both looked at each other. I wanted. . . I wanted to kiss her.”
“Do you think she would have let you?”
“Well, yeah, I think she would’ve. I could just. . . tell.”
“Then what happened?”
“Well, I was trying to get up the. . . you know, the nerve to kiss her, and Dean walked through the portrait hole.”
“Oh, no!”
“Yeah. So he comes and asks Ginny for a walk, and she says yes. But just as they’re leaving, she””
“Gives you the look.”
“Yeah!”
“Oh, Harry.”
Harry and Hermione sat in the common room half an hour later, discussing Harry’s latest meeting with Ginny. Hermione had just sat back in her chair with a sigh.
“What? Hermione, you’ve got to help me. What is it supposed to mean? Doesn’t she know I’m rubbish with all this. . . this feeling stuff?”
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. “Harry, it seems to me that you’re not exactly rubbish at all this. She’s given you the look and you’ve noticed. That means you’re miles ahead of most of the blokes here.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let me put it this way. I gave Ron the look for months before he even saw it.”
“Well, that’s Ron.”
“No, Harry, it’s not just Ron. It’s most everyone.” Hermione straightened in her chair and glanced at her watch. “All right, Harry, we don’t have much time. If Ginny and Dean have gone on a walk they’ll probably be coming back pretty soon, and I have to get to bed before Ron comes back from rounds.”
Harry fixed Hermione with a desperate look. “What am I supposed to do?”
Hermione leaned forward and studied him. “Well, Harry, there’s not much you can do right now. If Ginny’s with Dean, she’s with Dean.”
“But I thought you said””
“Look, Harry. Ginny’s clearly expressed interest. And, to tell you the truth. . .” Hermione leaned forward and finished the rest in a whisper. “. . . I never really believed that she had gotten over you.”
“So what does that mean? I just have to sit here and wait?”
“Well. . . yeah.”
Harry raked a hand through his hair, completely frustrated. “So why in hell is she giving me these looks if I can’t do anything about it?”
Hermione’s eyes flashed. “Harry, Ginny’s been in love with you for a long time. It’s probably just as much of a shock to her as it is to you that you all of a sudden love her.”
“All right, all right. I’m sorry. It’s just. . .” Something clunked in Harry’s mind. “I never told you I loved her.”
Eyes widening, Hermione said, “I thought that was what this whole conversation was about.”
“It was”it is”but I never said. . .”
“So you’re not sure?”
“No, I am””
“Because if you’re not, Harry””
“I’m sure.”
Hermione nodded. “Good.”
They sat in silence for a minute before Harry spoke again. “So. . . I just have to wait?”
“Just give her time, Harry.”
“Time.”
“Yes.”
“So, how much time? Like, a day?”
Hermione shook her head and laughed softly. “And here I thought you weren’t any worse than Ron.”
“I was just kidding.”
“I know.” Hermione stood up and gathered her parchment. “I’ve got to get to bed. Good night, Harry.”
“’Night, Hermione.”
As she turned to leave, Harry shifted in his chair so he could stare into the fire. It had been a long night.
***
The rest of the week flew past in a blur of mountains of homework and stolen glances at Ginny. She hadn’t given him the look again, but Harry noticed that whenever he looked at her for long enough, she would start to blush. Unfortunately, Hermione almost always seemed to notice when Harry looked at Ginny and would give him such harrowing glares that he had to stop.
“Give her time, Harry.”
He was trying to take Hermione’s advice. But it was becoming more and more difficult not to completely snap, run up to Ginny, grab her, and snog her senseless.
Control yourself, Potter.
Harry pulled on his trainers with a grin, glad it was Saturday, even though he had a detention. He welcomed it. . . a detention would give him a nice break from thoughts of Ginny and Dean. And he would have the entire castle practically to himself when he finished, because it was a Hogsmeade weekend.
Part of Harry was still irritated that McGonagall was making him serve detention on one of the rare weekends when students could visit the village, but the more reasonable part of him told him that it was a good thing. The last thing he needed was to see Ginny and Dean walking hand in hand outside Zonko’s joke shop.
Unbidden, more images of Ginny and Dean raced through his mind. Ginny and Dean standing up near the Shrieking Shack, and Dean drawing Ginny close to “protect her from the cold.” Ginny and Dean munching on fudge from Honeydukes, Ginny and Dean testing out jokes at Zonko’s, Ginny and Dean sitting close together in the Three Broomsticks. . . . Harry nearly kicked his trunk when the image of Ginny and Dean sitting in Madame Puddifoot’s sodding tea shop came up.
Remember, Potter, you don’t need any broken toes.
Perhaps this detention would help clear his head.
“Ready, mate?” Ron asked from across the dormitory. They were the last two inside.
“Yeah,” Harry answered. He grabbed a sweatshirt, stuck his wand in his back pocket, and followed Ron out of the dormitory. They met Hermione in the common room and walked out of the portrait hole.
“Is there anything you want from Honeyduke’s, Harry? They’ll probably have some new fudge, or something, if you want it.”
Harry grinned at Ron’s offer. “Yeah, some fudge would be great.”
Ron and Hermione walked with him until they reached the outside of the Transfiguration classroom.
“See you, guys,” Harry said, placing a hand on the doorknob. A second later, he wheeled around. “Don’t feel like you have to come back early, or anything, all right? Have fun today.”
Ron gave him a broad smile and Hermione ducked her head, blushing.
“Thanks, mate,” Ron said. Harry nodded, also grinning, and watched them leave. He then turned to open the door.
Glancing down at his wrist, Harry realized it was already eight past ten. He was nearly ten minutes late! Quickly he yanked open the door and ran inside, apologizing.
“I’m sorry, Professor McGonagall, I really didn’t mean to””
“Mr. Potter. How nice of you to join us. And ten minutes late, I might add. Please, Mr. Potter, if you would kindly explain to me why you are unable to be on time, when other members of your detention were perfectly capable of doing so?”
“Other. . . other members?”
“Yes, Mr. Potter. Other members. Now, if you please, kindly explain. . .”
McGonagall’s words died in his head as Harry looked to see who he would be serving the detention with.
Oh, bleeding hell.
Ginny Weasley was going to be his partner in detention.
A/N: This chapter was mostly used for transitional purposes-- I'm sorry if some of you found it boring. Chapter Five is well underway, and I'll try to post it as soon as possible. (Maybe you'll even get a little H/G action! ;) )
The Thin Line Between Love and Hate by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Five: The Thin Line Between Love and Hate
***
A/N: All right, all right. You asked for H/G, you got H/G. This chapter is a lot longer than usual, because I wanted to get their interaction just right. Please review and tell me what you think! And thank you for all the reviews I've gotten so far-- I'm stunned! Thanks, guys!
***
Ginny Weasley was going to be his partner in detention.
Harry stood, frozen, staring at Ginny. He was vaguely aware the McGonagall was still speaking to him and supposed it might have been a good idea to pay attention, but Harry didn’t bother to listen. Ginny was aware of his presence, he could tell. . . she kept her eyes trained on the ground and seemed like she was trying to fight a steady, rising blush.
Seems like you’re both doing a lot of that, Potter.
“Mr. Potter!”
Harry’s head snapped up to look at McGonagall. Immediately he wished he hadn’t. McGonagall was fixing him with a powerfully stern stare, her nostrils flaring and her eyes growing wider. Her mouth thinned even further, if possible, and Harry nearly quavered.
Probably should have paid attention to what she was saying.
“Yes, Professor McGonagall?” he asked in a small voice.
McGonagall was breathing heavily through her nose when she answered. “Mr. Potter,” she said through clenched teeth, “I was asking you why you were late, but I realize now that trying to hold your attention for more than thirty seconds whilst in the presence of Miss Weasley is a lost cause.”
What the bloody hell? Can she say that?
Harry’s face flamed, and McGonagall looked somewhat satisfied. Harry tried to suppress the glare he desperately wanted to give her. . . it wouldn’t do to get another detention or let Ginny know what McGonagall had said was the dead-on truth. There was no way she couldn’t have heard. Harry risked another glance at Ginny and saw she had a small smile on her face.
Yes, Potter, she definitely heard. What are you going to do about it?
“Professor””
“So, Mr. Potter, I will be quick. You and Miss Weasley are to stay here until each of these firewood logs is Transfigured into a desk chair. After you have completed that task, you will find a list of classrooms on the front of my desk and deliver the chairs to the appropriate classroom. Do you have any questions?”
Harry shook his head, still trying to make his blush recede. “No, Professor.”
“Good.” McGonagall went to her desk and picked up her cloak, bag, and walking stick. She was obviously going to visit the village. Harry felt anger flare low in his stomach, remembering how, ten minutes ago, he had been almost glad about this detention. He had been looking forward to the time to himself. . . looking forward to some time spent not thinking about Ginny. But here she was, sitting right under his nose, obviously not paying him a whit of attention (besides the smile at McGonagall’s comment).
At least you don’t have to worry about what Thomas is doing to her.
Harry went across the room, trying to focus on the wood and not the fact that Ginny’s arm touched his leg when he walked past. It wasn’t easy.
“Oh, and Potter?” Professor McGonagall called out. Harry turned. “If I come back and you are not finished you will find yourself with another Saturday detention. Good day.” She turned and left the room.
The door shut with an ominous dry click. An awkward silence settled over the room and Harry had no idea how to break it. How was he supposed to, after a statement like that from McGonagall? As far as he knew, Ginny was horribly embarrassed and never wanted to speak to him again.
Or she could be waiting for you to talk.
He wished Hermione were here. Then he could ask her just what in hell he was supposed to do”
“So, what did you do?”
Ginny had broken the silence. She turned and gave him an expectant look. “Hm?”
What had he done. . .
To get the detention, you prat.
“Oh! I, er, I wasn’t paying attention in class.”
Ginny grinned. “You must have been doing a whole lot of not paying attention to land a detention.”
“Well,” Harry grinned too, “I didn’t exactly to the Transfiguration.”
“What did you start out with?”
“A raccoon.”
“What was it supposed to be?”
“A raven.”
“And what did you end up with?”
“A raccoon.”
They looked at each other for a moment, then burst out laughing. Harry had to sit down and Ginny was holding her stomach, shaking with mirth. This was good. . . they were laughing, this wasn’t awkward at all. Harry grinned even more broadly.
“So what”” Ginny giggled again, “what were you thinking about so much that you didn’t even start Transfiguring?”
You.
. . .
Oh, yeah, Potter, this isn’t awkward at all.
Harry tried to keep laughing so she wouldn’t know the real answer to his question. “Oh, nothing really,” he said, in what he hoped was an offhand voice.
“I don’t believe you,” said Ginny in a playfully accusatory tone. “Come on, you can tell me. Who’s the girl?”
Harry jumped and his wand nearly fell out of his hand.
How do girls do that?
“Girl?” he said, then immediately cleared his throat, horribly embarrassed. “There’s no girl.”
Better. Next time, Potter, when talking to a girl, try not to sound like one.
Ginny gave him a wicked grin. “Oh come on, Harry. I have six older brothers. You think I can’t recognize when a boy’s in love?”
Is she trying to kill me? Doesn’t she know it’s her?
Harry ignored the question and focused his attention on the log in front of him. With a twist and a swish, a wooden seat sat in front of him.
“Good one,” Ginny said, grinning at his evasion and Transfiguring her own log. Her results were not as good as Harry’s”while she did end up with a chair, it was covered in bark.
“Damn,” he heard her mutter to herself. Harry stopped for a moment and watched her wand movement as she Transfigured another chair. She came up with another bark-covered seat and swore again.
“Here,” Harry said, starting toward her before he had a chance to convince himself not to. “It’s like this.” He stood next to Ginny and showed her the correct wrist movement without reciting the incantation. Ginny tried mimicking his movements, but she was still flicking instead of swishing.
Without thinking, Harry took hold of Ginny’s wrist. “It’s this way,” he said, guiding her hand through the movements.
It was just like Hermione had said. Bolts of electricity seemed to run straight through Harry, shaking him to his core, just from touching her arm. He nearly jumped and, a foot away, Ginny gave a jolt. Harry felt his breathing become shallower. It took him a full twenty seconds to realize that he was still holding Ginny’s wrist in his hands before he let go. Ginny laughed, somewhat breathlessly, and Harry shoved his hand in his pocket.
He couldn’t make himself move away. Instead, he raised his eyes to Ginny’s and was shocked to see that she was staring at him.
“So who’s the girl?” she whispered.
Harry gulped.
“Give her time, Harry.”
No time like the present, Potter.
“You.”
Ginny’s eyes widened and she dropped them to the floor. Her ears turned pink, creating somewhat of a clash with her hair. Harry remembered how thinking about her hair had helped him land this detention in the first place.
What am I supposed to do now, Hermione?
When it became apparent that Ginny wasn’t going to say anything to this extraordinary pronouncement from Harry, he grudgingly decided he had to move. Awkwardly, he shifted away from Ginny and went back to his own pile of logs. They didn’t speak to each other again, and the only breaks in the dreadful silence were their murmured incantations. Every few minutes, Harry would chance a glance at Ginny, hoping beyond hope that she might be looking at him as well. She never was.
Well, that was fine with him. If she wanted to ignore him, he could ignore her too. Harry sat up a bit straighter, determined to fulfill his task. Yes, he could ignore Ginny. No problem.
Thirty seconds later, Harry shifted his glance to her hair.
Damn it, Potter!
Hermione had said to give Ginny time. Well, that advice was bloody useless to him now. He had been alone in a room with her. . . she had been teasing him about thinking about a girl. . .
Harry shook his wand a little too vigorously and ended up with a chair with a leg missing.
Pay attention, Potter. You don’t want to let her know how much she’s got to you”
“You know,” Ginny said from across the room, “we ought to start taking these around to the classrooms.”
Was that it? Was she just going to ignore what he said?
“Er, Ginny?” he ventured. “D’you. . . I mean, aren’t we. . . going to talk about””
“I really think we should get to delivering them before everyone comes back,” she said in a loud voice, talking over him. “We don’t want to be stuck doling out chairs with the halls full of students.”
Time, Potter. If she wants to ignore you, let her.
“All right,” said Harry. He stood up and stacked his chairs, then levitated them with his wand. Across the room, Ginny was having some trouble keeping hers in the air.
Acting on instinct, Harry moved toward her, hand outstretched. “Here. . .”
“I’ve got it,” she said in a hard voice, and Harry recoiled. Ginny had never spoken to him like that.
So much for trying to be a nice guy.
“Fine,” he answered. If she wanted to handle her own chairs, she could bloody well handle her own chairs. Harry made sure his chairs were all in place and opened the door. He checked that the coast was clear both ways before floating them outside. Then he stepped into the hallway himself.
A minute later, Ginny’s chairs entered the hallway, then Ginny herself. She glanced at Harry a bit sheepishly and held out a piece of paper.
“You forgot the list,” she said.
All Harry could think of to say was an embarrassed “Oh.”
They stood like idiots in the corridor until Ginny finally said “We should, er, head to Binns’s first. That’s the closest.”
“All right.”
Without another word, Ginny turned and started down the hall. Harry followed, all the time trying to figure out where he had gone wrong. He had come in late, McGonagall had embarrassed him horribly by saying he couldn’t ever pay attention when Ginny was in the room, he and Ginny had talked, she had teased him about a girl. . .
That was it. She had been bloody teasing him. She was a girl, after all. Wasn’t it in their system to know about these kinds of things? Didn’t she know that she was the one he had been thinking about? Didn’t she know that half the reason he had taken her wrist was just because it was too bloody hard not to touch her? Didn’t she know that he cared about her?
Apparently not, Potter. And while you’re walking, try to keep your eyes off her bum.
***
“Well, that’s the last of them.”
“Yeah.”
Harry and Ginny stood in the corridor outside Professor Flitwick’s classroom. They hadn’t seen any teachers all afternoon. All the Professors were probably either at Hogsmeade or in their offices, trying to clear their desks before the rapidly arriving Christmas holidays.
The lack of teachers would never have normally irritated Harry, but today it did so to no end. Where were those bloody Professors when he needed them? They always seemed so keen to be present whenever he didn’t need them, and today, when he so desperately wanted another body with working vocal cords, none were there.
“We should, er, probably get back to the Transfiguration classroom,” he said awkwardly. “You know, to uh”to leave McGonagall her list.”
“Mostly I think I’ll need to get my bag.”
“Right.”
Harry closed his eyes in silent frustration, wishing he could be better at talking to Ginny. The whole of their conversation this afternoon hadn’t been any better. . . in fact, the interchange they just had pretty much made up the whole of their conversation for the afternoon. The rest was just Ginny reading from the list what chairs needed to go where. . . thus Harry’s desperation for a Professor. The painfully awkward silence wouldn’t have been so bad if there had been polite interchanges with Professors breaking it up. It really was a shame that Ginny didn’t want to speak with him, because delivering chairs in a tense, embarrassed silence wasn’t exactly Harry’s idea of fun.
Together they headed down the third floor corridor to the stairs. Harry had to remind himself to keep his eyes focused straight ahead or on the portraits. . . Ginny’s hips swung when she walked, and Harry could see a lot more curve now that she had on jeans and a sweater instead of school robes.
But then. . . Ginny was walking in front of him, just like she had been all afternoon. . . so if he looked at her, she wouldn’t notice. . .
Oh, she’ll notice. They always notice.
Potter?
Potter!
Potter, don’t you dare”
But Harry had stopped listening to reason”he couldn’t help himself. He had tried all afternoon, but it was futile. Ginny was mesmerizing. Her hair was down and it flowed down over her shoulder blades, moving just barely every time she took a step. Her waist. . . he could actually see her waist. It cinched in just a slight bit. . . it looked like the perfect place to rest his hand. He had seen Dean do it many a time and remembered his own waves of jealousy. But he didn’t want to think about Dean now. He wanted to think about Ginny. . . and Ginny’s hips, which had just stopped swinging. . . Ginny’s hips, which had just turned around. . .
Harry jumped, realizing that he was suddenly looking at a place where he was definitely not supposed to be looking. He jerked his head up and discovered he was standing two inches away from an exceptionally angry-looking Ginny.
Ginny opened her mouth like she wanted to yell at him, but then she closed it. Without a word, she turned on her heel and yanked open the door to the Transfiguration classroom. It slammed before Harry had a chance to enter.
Tentatively, Harry opened the door and stepped inside.
“Er, Ginny””
“Adsulto Terricula!”
Harry heard her hex and ducked before he had a chance to think. The hex slammed into the wall directly behind him and great flapping bat bogeys began their attack. Bewildered, Harry stayed crouched down, eyeing Ginny to make sure she wouldn’t hex him again. He wouldn’t put it past her. She still had her wand out and pointing directly at him, even though it was quivering a little.
Harry took the chance and stood up, albeit very slowly. He reached for his back pocket and took out his wand, showing it to Ginny. He then placed it on the desk in front of him and rose his hands up like the Muggles did in those police shows that Dudley liked to watch.
“Ginny””
“What do you mean by it, Harry?” Ginny asked in a rough voice, her grip tightening on her wand.
“I just put it down to””
“No, not your sodding wand! What do you mean by. . . by. . .” Ginny gestured with her hands, but Harry was still fixing her with what he hoped was a curious stare. If Ginny wanted to ask him a question, she was going to have to come right out and ask it.
It looked like she found her answer. Ginny fixed him with a hard glare and Harry found himself struggling to maintain her gaze. “What do you mean by. . . by looking at me? By telling me. . . telling me that I’m the one you’re thinking about?”
Harry opened his mouth, but Ginny wasn’t finished.
“Because it’s not funny, Harry. It’s not funny if you’re teasing me, or””
“Teasing you? Is that what you think this is?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Ginny. . .” Harry was completely shocked. He thought that she knew. . . she had to know. “Ginny,” he said again, “there’s no way I would ever tease you about something like this.”
He thought he saw Ginny’s mouth drop open for just a second, but if it had, she hid it well. Her eyes were now blazing and she looked even more furious than before.
“You still haven’t answered my question.”
Harry took a deep breath and decided to feign stupidity.
“What question is that?”
“What do you mean by it?” she said angrily.
“What do I mean by what?”
“You already know, Harry!”
“Well maybe you can fill me in, Ginny!”
They stood ten feet apart in the middle of the classroom, red-faced and bellowing at each other. Even though it was a very serious situation, the irony wasn’t lost on Harry. Not two years ago Ron and Hermione had stood in this exact position, arguing over arguably the same thing (although Harry thought his finding Ginny attractive was a far cry from Ron’s teasing about Viktor). Even though he didn’t mean to, Harry started to chuckle.
Ginny’s eyes flashed. In her fury, Harry saw her resemblance to Ron and laughed even harder. He knew he was probably digging himself into a hole, but it was just too amusingly ironic.
“This is funny to you?” Ginny said in an acidic voice. “You think it’s funny to goggle at me like some creature in the zoo?”
“No. . .no, Ginny. . .” Harry gasped, trying to maintain his laughs. “We’re like. . .” another laugh, “Ron and Hermione. . . at the Yule Ball. . .”
“Don’t you ever compare you and me to Ron and Hermione!”
Her rhyme, even though it was inadvertent, made Harry laugh again. Ginny’s eyes hardened.
“You’re a real git, Harry Potter,” she said with finality, then made to leave the room.
“No!”
Harry forced himself to stop laughing. He reached out and grabbed Ginny’s wrist before she had the chance to move past him. She wrenched and pulled against him, but he was stronger.
“Let me go, Harry,” she said through clenched teeth.
“No.”
“Let me go.”
“No.”
“I’ll hex you.”
“Try it.”
Ginny raised her wand with her free hand. Harry saw her open her mouth to cite the incantation, but before she had the chance to finish, he grabbed her wand and put it on the table where his was.
“Hey!”
“We’re going to talk.”
“We are through talking.”
“No, we’re not.”
“Yes, we are!”
“I still have to answer your question.”
Ginny’s arm stilled, and Harry could almost see her thinking over the possibility. He took the time to consider his own position. The gentlemanly thing to do would be to drop Ginny’s arm, apologize for leering, and let her go on her way. . . but Harry wasn’t feeling much like a gentleman right now. He wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling. . . all he knew was that he wasn’t acting like himself.
Of course you’re not acting like yourself. You think if you were you’d be speaking in complete sentences right now?
Before Harry had time to determine why he was acting in such an uncharacteristically rude and talkative manner, Ginny looked at him, anger evident in her eyes. “Let me go and then you can answer my question,” she said in an incensed tone.
“Promise me you won’t leave,” he said. He wouldn’t put it past Ginny to bolt straight away after he released her.
“I’m not promising anything””
“Then I won’t let you go.”
Ginny glared. “Fine,” she spat. “I won’t leave.”
Harry released Ginny’s arm when she pulled away then looked to the floor, bracing himself. He took a deep breath.
“I’m waiting.”
He shot her a glare before answering.
You’ve got a big chance here, Potter. Don’t screw it up.
Harry took a deep breath. “The reason I was looking at you is because. . . well, Gin, because I find you. . . attractive. Any bloke would. I mean, come on, you’re absolutely gorgeous.” A blush flared on Ginny’s cheeks, but she didn’t try to stop him or even try to hex him.
Hey, Potter, you’re improving.
He cleared his throat before speaking again. “And the reason I. . . said what I did. . . well, that was because. . .” He began blushing even before he said the words. Even though he could feel Ginny’s eyes on him, he didn’t look at her. He couldn’t look at her.
“Well, Ginny, the reason I said that was””
“Stop.” Ginny had abruptly put her hand out, as though to stop the words before they came out of his mouth. Harry was confused.
“I thought you wanted me to answer. . .” he said slowly, but Ginny interrupted him again.
“I don’t anymore.” Ginny was now moving to the other side of the classroom to collect her bag.
Anger flared in Harry’s stomach. “Well, why not?” he asked, his voice raised. Ginny kept her eyes on the floor.
“I know what the answer is, and I don’t want to hear it.”
This statement hit Harry like a brick wall. After everything”the looks, the ‘C’ sweater, McGonagall’s comment, their detention, this whole argument”she wouldn’t even stay to hear the most important part!
“How do you know what I’m going to say? And why don’t you want to hear it?” Harry advanced on Ginny, again closing the gap between them.
Ginny raised a hand to her forehead and rubbed it, still not looking at him. “One, I know what you’re going to say because. . . well, I just do. Two, I don’t want to hear it because I have a boyfriend””
“Oh, please!” Harry spat, disgusted. “You had a boyfriend when you were giving me the looks, he didn’t seem to stop you then.”
Ginny’s hand stopped moving on her forehead. “What?” she asked, her brow furrowing.
Harry stepped even closer. “You know what I’m talking about. The look. You gave it to me in the dormitory and then again outside the portrait hole, don’t think I haven’t noticed.”
Lowering her hand from her forehead, Ginny said “I”I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Her voice was shaking, and Harry didn’t believe her for a second.
“You’re a rotten liar, Ginny,” he said in a low voice. He reached out for Ginny’s hand, but she wrenched it away.
“And if I am?” she challenged. “Look, Harry, I have a boyfriend””
“Who you don’t care about.”
“Who are you to tell me who I do or do not care about?”
Careful, Potter. You know she doesn’t like being treated like a child. Don’t make her even angrier”
“I can tell you don’t care about him, Ginny! Otherwise you wouldn’t keep giving those looks to me!”
”by saying things like that.
Ginny sucked in a deep breath. “It is none of your business how I feel about Dean””
“It is when you really love me!”
“I do not!”
By this point, all manner of reason had left Harry. All he could do now was act on gut instinct.
I hope you know what you’re doing, Potter.
Harry took a slow step toward Ginny and heard her breath hitch. He took another one and she didn’t move away. Drawing yet another deep breath, Harry voiced the question that had been bothering him ever since she gave him the first look.
“Do you love me?”
Ginny’s mouth fell open and she gasped. “Oh, no, Harry””
“Do you love me?”
“You cannot do that!”
“Do you love me?”
Tears pooled in Ginny’s eyes and she threw up her hands in frustration. “Why are you doing this, Harry?”
“I have to know.”
“Well, I don’t, all right?”
“I don’t believe you.”
Ginny gave a strangled scream of frustration and turned away from him. “Why are you doing this now?”
“Because. . .” Harry tried to think of an answer, but he couldn’t seem to voice all the thoughts tangled up in his mind. Why was he doing this now?
Because you love her, you dolt.
Before Harry could answer, Ginny whirled around and faced him with a glare so furious that he lost his breath.
“I loved you for five years, Harry. Five bloody years. And you knew I loved you, don’t pretend that you didn’t. You knew I was in love with you. And you didn’t do a single thing about it, never paid me one whit of attention, for five sodding years.” She stopped to draw breath and a tear ran down her cheek.
Harry wanted to say something but found he couldn’t. Not that Ginny would let him say anything, even if he wanted to. She had moved closer now, and was gesturing so violently with her hands that Harry almost felt he should move back.
“So, what do I do? I get over you. And then guess what happens?” she asked in a tone dripping with sarcasm. “As soon as I’m taken, you all of a sudden realize that you love me. How terribly ironic!”
She stood in front of him, breathing hard, and Harry knew he had to say something. “I’m sorry, all right?” he said in a voice equaling hers in anger. Ginny rolled her eyes and Harry felt like pounding his fist on the table. “What else do you want me to say, Ginny?” he yelled. “I didn’t plan on this. I didn’t plan on you.”
“Plan on me how?”
“I didn’t plan on you invading every aspect of my life! It’s like you’re everywhere! When I’m awake, I see you. When I’m asleep, I dream about you. I can’t think about anything else but you. I can’t focus, I certainly can’t pay attention in class. That’s why I had to serve this sodding detention in the first place, because I wasn’t paying attention. Guess what I was doing, Ginny? I was thinking about you!”
Harry stopped to draw breath. Ginny’s eyes had gotten progressively wider during his little speech, but she was still able to retort back in a sarcastic tone.
“Well, Harry, that’s very sweet of you to say, but none of it makes any difference. I have a boyfriend.” She said the last five words very slowly, as though she was speaking to a small child.
“Ginny. . . I don’t care anymore.” Harry took a deep breath and let out the rest of his words in a rush. “I don’t care about your boyfriend, I don’t care about any of it. All I know is that I love you.”
At his words, they both froze. Their impact hit Harry almost as hard as they hit Ginny. Harry had never said that out loud, not to anyone.
He rushed on, wanting to finish before he lost his nerve.
“I love you, Ginny. I do. I don’t know what took me so long to realize it, but now I do. And I think you love me too.”
Another tear slid down Ginny’s cheek. She made no effort to wipe it away. Slowly, Harry stepped forward and raised his hand to her face. He tentatively brushed the tear away with the pad of his thumb. Daringly, he left his hand on her face.
“Do you love me, Ginny?” he asked again. She squeezed her eyes shut and more tears flowed out. This time Harry took both hands to wipe them away.
“No,” she said in a strangled voice.
She’s lying.
“Do you love me?”
“No.”
“I love you.”
“Well, I don’t.” But even as she said it, more tears formed and fell down her face. Harry chanced a small grin.
“You’re a rotten liar, Gin.”
And then slowly, very slowly, he lowered his face to hers.
***
A/N: Well, there you have it! I hope you liked it. If you did, please review. . . I love hearing from you guys.
A few disclaimers:
A Thin Line Between Love and Hate-- certainly not mine. I'm not exactly sure where it's from.
Ginny’s line “Mostly I think I’ll need to get my bag” is similar to one of Hermione’s lines in After the End, Arabella and Zsenya’s epic posted at the Sugar Quill. Hermione says “Mostly I think I’ll need a swimsuit.”
I made up the Bat-Bogey Hex incantation, since JKR hasn’t given it to us in the books. The word adsulto means “attack” and terricula means “bogey.” Both are Latin.
I’m not positive, but I’m pretty sure that “I didn’t plan on this. I didn’t plan on you.” has been written or said somewhere before here. Anyone have any ideas as to where it’s from originally?
Don't Kiss and Tell by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Six: Don't Kiss and Tell
***
A/N: OhISee wrote: It's ridiculous the kind of glee I get from your descriptions of Harry's thought processes. I would like to branch off that for a moment and say”it’s ridiculous the kind of glee I get from your reviews. I mean, seriously. A little while after chapter five was put up I came back to my computer and saw I had four pages of reviews… I squealed. Squealed like a little girl. Now, if that’s not joy, I don’t know what is.
This story is so much fun to write, and I love getting feedback from you guys. It’s such an ego boost! To those of you who read and review and to those who just read- thank you so much.
On another note”I am sorry for the delay. I had midterm exams and then I had to go out of town. But I've already written chapter seven and I'll be submitting it very soon.
Now, on to the scene I know you're all dying to read. :D
***
And then slowly, very slowly, he lowered his face to hers.
It was as though fireworks had exploded in his brain. Her lips were soft, far softer than he ever imagined them to be, and her cheek was even softer beneath his hand. Harry moved his lips against hers, and, very slowly, Ginny began to kiss him back.
Harry gave a jolt when he realized that he was kissing her and she was not protesting or pushing him away. He wrapped his arms around her in jubilation and she threw her arms around his neck. This surprised and excited Harry more than anything. Acting on impulse, he tightened his grip on Ginny’s back and lifted her off the ground, spinning her around in the air.
“Oh, Gin, I love you,” he whispered, setting her down gently.
And then, in a barely audible voice, Ginny whispered “I love you too, Harry.”
Better make sure, Potter.
“Really?” he asked in a whisper. “You do?”
Ginny didn’t say anything, but she finally raised her eyes to his. This time, instead of hard anger, he saw all the love that he felt.
But she had to say it. He needed to hear her say it.
Ginny took her time looking at him. She took her hand from his back and placed it on his cheek. Harry gasped softly and drew her closer when she began tracing the lines of his face. No one had ever touched him like this. Ginny’s deliberate touch seemed more intimate than actually kissing her. It was as though every nerve in his face was alive, and those she touched felt on fire”on fire in the most fantastic way possible.
Harry’s breath hitched and he tightened his hold on Ginny.
Ginny moved her hand from his cheek to his forehead. Gently she brushed his fringe away and traced her index finger down his scar. Harry drew in a sharp breath. Not only had he never thought it possible that his scar could tingle pleasantly, he had never imagined that Ginny’s mere touch on it would make him want to cry… not out of pain, not out of anger, but out of the deep well of emotion that he tried so desperately to keep locked down inside him. Harry squeezed his eyes shut, just like she had a moment ago.
And then Ginny did something that made one of his tears fall. Slowly and gently, she reached behind his head and brought it close to her, stood up on her tiptoes, and kissed his scar.
“I love you,” she murmured against his skin. Harry opened his eyes. She kept her hand in place on the back of his neck but went back to standing normally so she could look at him straight on. “I love you,” she said again, slowly, so he would catch every word. “I always have, and I always will.”
Another tear slid down his cheek and Ginny giggled as she wiped it away. Harry blushed, horribly embarrassed. But then he realized that Ginny was crying too.
“Look at us,” she said with a soft laugh. “Crying like a bunch of idiots.”
“Idiots in love,” he said, and Ginny stopped laughing.
Harry bent his head and kissed her again, this time with much more intensity. Their first kiss had been slow and sweet, but now that Harry knew he had permission, he wasn’t holding back. He opened her mouth under his and continued kissing her soundly, gripping her to him so tightly that they could both barely breathe.
“Wait,” Ginny gasped, wrenching her mouth from his. “Dean.”
Dean.
…
Damn it.
Very reluctantly, Harry stopped kissing Ginny and moved away from her. Her lips were bright red and her hair was mussed. She looked almost exactly like she had when he had caught her with Dean in his dormitory, except now the sight of her didn’t make him angry. It just made him want her even more.
“You know what?” he said in a husky voice that he could barely recognize as his own. “Forget Dean.”
It was as though Ginny had been waiting for permission. Before Harry could even blink, she was in his arms, his face was in her hands, and her lips were on his.
Harry wasn’t sure how long they were in the classroom kissing, but it must have been a good while, because before he knew it, his stomach had begun to growl. Somehow he and Ginny had migrated to one of the desk chairs. His first few shirt buttons had been undone and Ginny’s sweater had been taken off, leaving her in only a tee shirt. Harry was sitting with Ginny on his lap. With a groan, he separated his lips from Ginny’s so he could see what time it was.
“We’ve got to”” Harry cleared his throat, “we’ve got to head down to lunch.”
With a ghost of a smile, Ginny looked at her own watch. “You’re right.”
Neither of them moved.
“We really should head down to lunch,” Ginny suggested while closing her eyes.
“Mm hmm,” Harry hummed in affirmation, closing his own eyes as well and moving his lips to her neck.
“We don’t want to”” Ginny gasped as Harry continued kissing her, “to… miss out on the details… of what happened.”
“Details?” Harry asked, shifting his focus and kissing Ginny along her arm. He moved his lips from her elbow down to her fingers, somewhat clumsily, desperately hoping Ginny wouldn’t be able to tell just how inexperienced he was… but he could feel goosebumps raise on her arm at his touch. Harry grinned.
“Oh, you know,” Ginny said breathlessly. “All the… gossip, and””
“Gossip from the first and second years?”
Ginny opened her eyes and smiled at Harry. “Oh… I suppose no one else has come back yet.”
“I suppose not.”
She shifted in his lap and put her arms around his neck, grinning.
“Besides,” she said, “you think there’s any better gossip than Harry Potter finally working up the nerve to kiss Ginny Weasley?”
Horror shot through him at the prospect of people knowing about… them, and Harry felt himself stiffen involuntarily as she looked at him. “You were… planning on telling people?”
Ginny sat up a bit straighter. “No… not just yet,” she said slowly. “I was just joking.” At her words, Harry relaxed and gave her a squeeze.
“Good,” he said. “The last thing I want or need is the Prophet, or… or Witch Weekly finding out about this.”
Ginny’s eyes widened. “So you’re ashamed?” she asked, making to get off his lap. Harry tightened his arms around her and pulled her back to him.
“Never,” he whispered. “It’s just…” He gave a frustrated sigh. “Gin, I know… I know what these papers are like. They print lies a lot of the time…. They’ve hurt me in the past… I don’t want them to hurt you.” He finished in a small voice, but Ginny was looking at him as though he had just given her a million Galleons.
Maybe you should file that under “Right Thing to Say,” Potter.
“That is so sweet,” Ginny said. “Have I told you I love you?”
“Say it again.”
“I love you.” Harry shivered.
“I love you,” she said, kissing his cheek, and he shivered more. “I love you,” she whispered, kissing his scar again.
Harry tilted his head back and kissed her fully on the mouth. He felt Ginny relax completely against his chest and he instinctively tightened his arms around her.
Harry had just coaxed Ginny’s mouth open with his own when he heard voices in the corridor.
“I can assure you, Mr. Thomas, Miss Weasley is not going to be in there””
“I just want to check, Professor.”
“Mr. Thomas, one afternoon away from Miss Weasley is not going to harm you. If you had stayed in Hogsmeade””
Harry froze; above him, Ginny gasped. They looked at each other for one terrified second before they sprang into action. Ginny leapt off Harry and grabbed her sweater from the floor, yanking it over her head. Harry set the chair back in place and threw Ginny her bag.
Ginny glanced at him quickly and her eyes widened. “Your shirt!” she whispered.
Horrified, Harry looked down. He jerked the buttons at the top of his shirt back into place as the doorknob began to turn. Harry’s glance shifted to it, but his attention was caught by something moving on the wall.
Great flapping bat bogeys.
“Scourgify!” he whispered, pointing his wand at the wall just as the door opened.
“Ginny!”
Dean Thomas stood in the doorway, grinning. Harry hastily put his wand back into his pocket as Dean strode over to Ginny and placed his arm around her waist. “Hi,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.
Anger flared low in Harry’s stomach. He fought the urge to smack Dean’s hand away and Ginny blushed. Her eyes darted to Harry’s for a quick second before she looked at Dean.
“Hi.”
McGonagall went to her desk, leaning on her walking stick. “Well, Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley. I assume you are finished?”
Harry forced his concentration to McGonagall and not on Dean’s hand moving on Ginny’s waist. “Yes, Professor. We just came back here to… to””
“To get my bag,” Ginny filled in. Her eyes flitted to his once more and a tinge rose in her cheeks.
“Well, I must say, I wasn’t expecting you to still be here. But no matter. You are dismissed.”
“Great,” said Dean. He turned, taking Ginny with him, leading her out of the classroom. Harry wanted to run forward and yank his arm away. “There’s still time if you want to walk to Hogsmeade. Maybe we could get lunch at the Three Broomsticks?”
Ginny hesitated before answering. “Um, I kind of wanted to… to stay here.”
“What?”
“I don’t really feel like going into Hogsmeade today.”
“Why not?”
“I just… don’t.”
Dean paused. Harry used the break in their conversation to step in front of them to the door, pausing to look at Ginny. Unfortunately, it was Dean instead of Ginny who caught his eye. Dean rolled his eyes, clearly trying to make an unspoken point about the silliness of girls.
Harry glowered at him. He then turned to Ginny, ignoring Dean.
“I’m heading down to lunch in the Great Hall if you want to come with me.”
Ginny’s ears were pink. “That’s alright with me. What do you want?” she asked Dean.
Dean’s face clearly showed that he did not want to spend his Saturday afternoon with Ginny with Harry tagging along. However, he looked at Ginny, plastering on a fake smile.
“Sure,” he said. “Whatever you want to do.” He kissed her cheek again.
Harry looked away in disgust. Was Thomas taunting him, acting that way?
No, prat, he’s not taunting you. She’s still his girlfriend.
Harry avoided looking at Ginny and Dean all the way down to lunch.
***
Four hours later, Harry was up on his four poster, staring at the curtains. He hadn’t had a chance to speak to Ginny alone all afternoon. Lunch had been an almost painful experience, with Ginny and Dean on his left and gaping first and second years on his right. Dean had been intent on having a private lunch with Ginny”he had put his arm around her, whispered in her ear, and taken her hand beneath the table. All the while, Harry tried not to watch them but failed and ended up staring anyway. Ginny was trying to keep Dean off but failing as well. She shot Harry apologetic looks, trying to tell him with her eyes that there was nothing she could do. When he hadn’t been able to stand it any longer, Harry stood up, bid Ginny and Dean goodbye, and ran up the stairs to the Gryffindor common room.
But the first and second years who had already finished lunch were in the common room, sitting in the best chairs around the fire that were normally reserved for older students. His entrance set off a round of giggles that would have made Lavender and Parvati proud. Harry was very easily annoyed by the younger students. They all had irritating habits of staring at his forehead and whispering about him behind their tiny little hands”Harry was sick of it. Couldn’t they get it through their heads that he was just a normal person? And why did they all look so small?
No way you were that small when you were eleven, Potter.
Harry had stomped up to his dormitory, the only place he could get away from the stares and whispers. The thought that he could sneak into Hogsmeade with his Invisibility Cloak crossed his mind, but Harry ignored it. He had already gotten all his Christmas presents for his friends, he didn’t feel like a butterbeer, and he really didn’t fancy walking up on Ron and Hermione snogging down an alleyway.
All he wanted was to talk to Ginny. Alone.
In a dark closet, preferably.
Harry turned over on his bed, willing the image of Ginny and Dean away and coming up with images of Ginny… just Ginny. Ginny, hexing him like a pro. Ginny, hollering her head off at him. Ginny, crying, with his hand on her face. Ginny, beaming at him while sitting on his lap. Ginny, playing with his hair.
When he heard the dormitory door open, he slammed his eyes shut. He really didn’t want to talk to Dean right now.
“You’re already asleep?”
Ron’s incredulous voice came from the side of Harry’s bed. Glad that he didn’t have to feign sleep, Harry rolled over and opened his eyes.
“No. I was just lying down.”
“Oh.” Ron raised an eyebrow at him, moving to his own bed and throwing down all his purchases. Harry blushed and sat up.
“Did you have a nice time at Hogsmeade?” he asked in a suggestive voice. Harry couldn’t let the opportunity pass to tease Ron a little, even if he was feeling rather annoyed at the world. Not after the look Ron had just given him. Ron didn’t answer, but his ears turned red, and Harry laughed.
“Shut it,” Ron said, taking a playful swing at Harry. “How was your detention?” he asked in the same suggestive tone, going back to unloading his purchases.
Fantastic. I snogged your little sister until neither of us could breathe.
…
And then I snogged her a little more.
“Fine,” he said. “Ginny was there.”
Ron turned to him again with raised eyebrows. “Ginny? What did she do?”
“Dunno.”
Ron went back to his trunk while Harry sat. The thought of what Ron would say if he, Harry, told him about Ginny worried Harry. He knew that Ron had basically given him permission to care for her, based on what he said on the train last year. But Harry couldn’t help remembering Ron’s attitude concerning Michael Corner and more recently his attitude towards Dean.
“Come on, let’s get down to the common room. Hermione says that she wants to talk to you,” Ron said, interrupting Harry’s thoughts.
“All right.” Harry stood up and followed Ron out of the dormitory.
“Seriously, Ron,” he said while they were on the stairs. “Did you have a good time?” He knew Ron was sensitive about his relationship with Hermione and didn’t want to tease him too much. The twins did enough of that already.
“Yeah, it was a really good time. Saw Dean walking around with Seamus and Lavender, though, they didn’t look too pleased.”
Harry laughed. When he and Ron were at the bottom of the staircase, he swept his eyes over the room, looking for Hermione. His eyes landed on Ginny first.
Harry’s stomach gave a pleasurable squirm.
Ginny had her head bent and she was muttering something very quickly. Harry looked to her right and saw that she was whispering to Hermione, who looked delighted. Ginny whispered something more and Hermione smiled broadly and clapped her hands.
“Wonder what she’s so happy about,” Ron said, making his way over to Hermione and Ginny.
Harry had a good idea of what they were talking about and couldn’t help but feel a small stab of horror. He was embarrassed, even though it was only Hermione.
“What’s going on?” Ron asked when he and Harry approached them. Ginny and Hermione both gasped, looking flustered. Hermione, however, calmed down enough to smile.
“Oh, hi, Harry. How was your day?”
“Great,” said Harry, with his eyes on Ginny. She grinned.
“Ginny was just telling me about your detention.” Harry could feel Hermione’s expectant gaze on him and he turned to look at her. Hermione was staring at him with her eyebrows raised to let him know that she knew exactly what had happened. Harry felt a blush start and fought to keep it down.
“Is that what you were all excited about? A detention?” Ron asked, sitting next to Hermione on the couch and ruffling her hair a bit. “Honestly, you’d think Ginny was telling you about a date or something the way you were reacting.”
Harry’s heart pounded and he threw a panicked look at Hermione. He shook his head slightly at her with wide eyes, and she nodded.
“That was nothing.”
“Nothing?”
“Just girl stuff.”
“Girl stuff?” Both Ginny and Hermione blushed. Harry could sense another Ron/Hermione banter coming on and looked at Ginny. She was examining the carpet, determinedly not looking at him.
“Yeah.”
“What do you mean, it’s just girl stuff””
Ginny finally moved her eyes to Harry’s.
Ron and Hermione’s conversation faded away. Electricity seemed to flow between himself and Ginny. Harry wanted to reach out and drag her to a dark corner. Most unfortunately, Ginny didn’t reciprocate his gaze. She looked nervous and was trying to tell him something without saying it. Harry wasn’t sure what it was… this look was not like the others she had given him before.
He needed to talk to her. Alone.
Oh, yeah, Potter, sure. You want to talk to her.
“I’m going down to dinner,” Harry announced, with a pointed look at Ginny. Ron and Hermione stopped their good-natured bickering and looked up at Harry.
“Are you sure? It’s only a little after five,” Ron said with a glance at Hermione’s watch.
“Yeah,” said Harry. “I didn’t get much lunch.”
Ginny flushed, but she stood up anyway. “Yeah, me neither. I’ll come with you.”
Ron started to stand. “OK, I’ll come too””
“No!” Hermione interjected. She put a hand out to stop Ron, who looked confused. “Ron… you just ate all those chocolate frogs from Honeydukes. You need to give your stomach a chance to settle before you eat again.”
You’re a lucky man, Potter. Not everybody can think quickly like that.
Harry gave Hermione a grateful look. “See you later.” He ignored Ron’s raised eyebrows and started for the portrait hole.
“Bye,” he heard Ginny say from behind him. He took a deep breath and turned around, waiting for Ginny to catch up with him. She quickened her step and smiled broadly at him. Together, they made their way out of the common room.
***
A/N: You all know by now that I love reviews.
I'll try to have chapter seven submitted ASAP.
***
Always and Forever by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Seven: Always and Forever
***
A/N: Thanks for your reviews, as always.
Warning: This isn't exactly a happy, fluffy chapter.
Oh, you still want to read?
Are you sure?
Well, don't say I didn't warn you.
***
Harry stepped out into the corridor before Ginny, scanning both ways to see if anyone was approaching. The hall was deserted. He turned back to Ginny and gave her his hand to help her out of the portrait hole. Smiling broadly, Ginny placed her hand in his.
When Ginny was safely on the floor, Harry didn’t let go of her hand. She squeezed it and smiled even more, stepping closer to whisper something in his ear.
“Harry… we should go find somewhere””
But Harry couldn’t stand it any longer. She was beautiful and he loved her, and there was no reason to be wasting precious time when they were already alone. Harry took hold of her shoulders and moved her against the wall, pressing his lips against hers. Ginny made a small noise of surprise at the back of her throat and he felt her arms snake around his back. When they broke apart, gasping, Harry grinned.
“I’ve been wanting to do that all afternoon,” he said in a low voice. Ginny’s mouth was still halfway open and he captured it in his again.
Her kiss drove into him all the way into his toes. His whole body tingled pleasantly and Harry smiled again. All too soon, Ginny moved her head away.
“Harry… we can’t do this here… someone will see…”
Of course someone’s going to see, you randy berk. You’re in the middle of the Gryffindor corridor.
Harry jumped back, releasing Ginny. She raised a hand to her hair and gave him a worried look.
“Come on,” he said. “I know where we can go.”
Not for nothing was Harry the only son of one of the four Marauders. Thanks to the Map, he knew every secret passage Hogwarts castle had to offer. Harry ran through the locations of secret or hidden rooms that they could get to quickly, and his mind landed on a room behind a tapestry one floor up that hardly anyone ever used or knew about. He reached for Ginny’s hand to lead her, but she shook her head.
Remember, Potter, you’re still a secret.
Harry nodded his understanding and took off wordlessly to the room behind the tapestry. They both remained silent for the walk, but Ginny gave him looks of amusement and Harry returned them. He quickened his step and Ginny followed suit. Harry continued to increase his speed and she continued to reciprocate until they were both nearly sprinting along the corridor. Laughing, Ginny held out a hand.
“We have to be quiet,” she whispered, giggling. Harry nodded, grinning. He showed Ginny the tapestry and, glancing up and down the hall, lifted it up, revealing the door behind it.
“Oh!” Ginny said, impressed. She stepped past him and opened the door, going inside. Harry followed, making sure the tapestry lay flat on the wall before he shut the door.
Before he even turned around, he felt Ginny’s arms curl around him. “Hi,” she whispered in his ear. “I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to talk to you this afternoon. But I’ve been thinking about you.”
He could feel her breath on his face as she spoke and it gave him goosebumps. Despite the shiver that ran down his spine, Harry suddenly felt very warm inside. He turned, making sure to stay in the circle of Ginny’s arms, and put his hand up to her cheek. She leaned against it and he grinned.
Harry had never exactly had a girlfriend before (he didn’t count one very wet and awkward kiss with Cho Chang and the arguments that ensued as having a girlfriend), so the only thing he could rely on to tell him what to do was instinct. Right now, instinct was telling him to put his arms around Ginny’s back and move his lips to her neck.
“Oh, Harry,” Ginny whispered, letting her head fall onto his shoulder. Harry tightened his arms and moved his head so their cheeks were touching. They stood for a minute, embracing and breathing each other.
“What are we going to do?” Ginny asked. She shifted back and let go of him. Even though he didn’t want to, Harry broke his hold of her and let her step away. Ginny fixed him with another worried look and Harry felt a strong urge to make the look go away.
“We have to tell Dean,” Harry said. Even though he dreaded it, it was the right thing to do.
You think telling Thomas is number one on her list of preferred activities, Potter?
“You’re right,” said Ginny. “We have to tell Dean.”
They stared at each other.
“We have to tell Dean,” Harry said, taking a step toward Ginny.
“Yes, we do,” said Ginny, stepping toward him.
“It’s the right thing.” Another step.
“Of course.” Another step.
“It would be wrong not to tell him.” Another step.
“Yes, very wrong.” Another step.
Harry and Ginny now stood three electric inches apart, and Harry’s heart sped up.
Potter, if you don’t grab her and kiss her right now I’m going to”
Harry closed the final distance between them by taking Ginny in his arms and kissing her. He felt her giggle beneath his lips and he smiled as well. Their lips remained touching, but they weren’t really kissing… more like embracing, really, just with their lips touching. Harry found he liked it almost as much.
Almost.
“What about everyone else?” Ginny’s lips had moved lightly over his when she spoke, tickling them and making goosebumps rise on Harry’s arms.
Harry cleared his throat. “Well, I saw you telling Hermione.”
“I know, I’m sorry, but”
“It’s all right. She already knows, anyway.”
Confusion flickered into Ginny’s eyes. “She knows about this afternoon?”
“No, but she knows how…” Harry blushed. “She knows how I feel about you,” he mumbled, burying his head in Ginny’s neck out of embarrassment. Ginny giggled and moved her hand into his hair.
“Oh. Well, I told her all about… the detention. She was so excited.”
Harry raised his head and looked at Ginny. “Seriously, though. What about everyone else?”
“I asked you first.”
They looked at each other and grinned. Ginny moved her hand from Harry’s head to his back, tracing her fingers along his spine and sending chills throughout his entire body. He wondered how she always knew what to do, how to touch him, what to say to him, to drive him mad…
You’re not her first boyfriend, Potter. Or did you forget the image of Dean and Ginny snogging on his bed?
Harry pushed the thought out of his mind and kissed Ginny quickly and without warning, just to remind himself that she was really there. Ginny laughed.
“A little randy today, are we?” she giggled.
Harry laughed too. “A little.”
“Wonder why,” she said in a sarcastically suggestive voice.
“You know why,” he said, drawing her even closer and almost growling into her ear. He was pleased when he felt Ginny shiver.
“All right, Mr. Randy Man,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders and pushing him away. Harry stumbled back while Ginny raised a hand to fix her hair. “Since you’re so much more advanced in school than I am, you can have the pleasure of deciding just what in hell we’re going to do with ourselves.”
“Aw, come on, Gin,” he said, trying to take her back into his arms. When she refused, he huffed. “I’m not that much further along in school.”
“According to Ron and the rest of the sixth years you are. And you think a whole year doesn’t count?”
Not in the romance department, it doesn’t.
“Not really,” Harry said, embarrassed. But Ginny fixed him with an expectant look and tossed her hair. Harry tried to reach out for her again, but she smacked his hand and moved away, grinning. Harry scowled.
“We have to tell Dean,” he said, hoping in vain that she wouldn’t remember their earlier words.
“Thank you for that revelation. Really, you deserve the Order of Merlin. First class, of course.”
“Shut it.”
Ginny laughed and stepped closer. “How about some incentives?”
Harry brightened. “Incentives?”
“You give me an answer I like, and I kiss you.”
“How about a kiss to get the thinking process started?”
“Honestly, you teenage wizards. Do you ever think about anything other than girls?”
No.
…
Well, maybe.
…
Quidditch.
“Yes.”
“Oh, and what’s that?”
“Quidditch.”
Ginny laughed. “Of course, Quidditch, how could I forget? It seems like that’s the only talk that goes on at home in the summers, or it used to be. Quidditch, Quidditch, Quidditch, and when they got tired of talking about Quidditch they would go outside and play Quidditch instead."
“They” meaning her brothers, Potter. Her older brothers. All six of them.
Harry almost felt the shadow cross his face. He couldn’t believe he had been so stupid.
“What?” asked Ginny, concerned. She took one of his hands in both of her own and maneuvered into his line of sight. “What is it?”
Harry swallowed, but his throat still felt dry. “Your brothers,” he croaked, watching comprehension dawn on Ginny’s face.
“Don’t worry about them,” she said quickly. “They love you.”
“They’ll kill me.”
“They won’t kill you.”
Panic rose in Harry and he began to spurt out his worries before he could think about what he was saying. “Yes, they will. Gin, you don’t hear them talk about you. You’re their pride and joy. It’s like you have seven fathers instead of one, and no one is ever going to be good enough for you, and they’re going to hate me when they realize that I love you, and then they’re going to kill me””
Harry’s rant was stopped by the sudden press of Ginny’s lips against his. He tried to speak but she pressed harder, placing her hands on either side of his face and drawing it closer.
“You’re Harry Potter,” she whispered against his lips, breaking the kiss. “They know I’ve been in love with you for years. You’re Ron’s best friend, and you’re practically a Weasley anyway. You’re the only person in the world who could ever possibly be good enough for me, so don’t you dare say that you’re not.”
Harry nodded, slightly shell-shocked. Ginny moved back slightly but kept his gaze. She sighed when he still shot her a look of uncertainty.
“Well, we just won’t tell them,” she said firmly.
“What?” he said, bewildered. Not tell the Weasleys?
“We won’t tell them. We won’t tell the people at school until after Christmas.”
“What about Dean?”
“I think… I’ll probably have to break up with him after New Year’s. It seems really cruel to break up with someone a week before Christmas."
Harry stared at Ginny. “So you’ll go on acting his girlfriend for the next week?” She nodded, and Harry groaned. “Ginny, I don’t know if I can take that.”
“It’s only a week, Harry. And then we’ll be at Grimmauld Place””
“Where we can’t tell anyone about us””
“Where there are plenty of old rooms to hide away in.” Ginny raised an eyebrow and continued. “Besides, there’ll be so many people there they won’t notice if we’re gone for a few minutes.”
Harry took Ginny’s hands in his own, trying to reassure himself. “So,” he said slowly, “we… we don’t tell anyone at Hogwarts yet. We don’t tell any of your family… until you break up with Dean after Christmas.”
“Yes.”
“So we’re a secret.”
“Yes.”
“Besides Hermione.”
“Yes.”
Harry nodded. “Good.” He opened his arms and she stepped into them. He inhaled whatever scent it was that lingered on her hair and decided that it was his favorite in the entire world.
If anyone ever hurts her, I’ll… I’ll… I don’t know what I’d do.
Harry tightened his arms. “Gin” maybe we shouldn’t ever. Tell anyone, that is. You can break up with Dean but not tell him about me.”
She looked up at him, confused and also looking slightly hurt. “What, are you ashamed of me? You already said””
“No! Ginny, I never could be. I’ve told you. But…” Harry trailed off. Thoughts of the prophecy were suddenly zooming through his mind and he closed his eyes. Perhaps this was stupid. He was already a walking target, why was he bringing someone into his life who would inevitably get hurt or possibly die, as all the people who got too close to him seemed to do…
Harry let go of Ginny and stepped away. Perhaps he had just made a monumental mistake. What had he done? He had told her that he cared about her… loved her… in a fit of reckless anger and then kissed her because he hadn’t been able to hold back. But the consequences of his actions were now settling in for the first time. Why had he told her? She was now linked to him in a way that no one else ever would be… he was a marked man, for Merlin’s sake. He was to either kill or be killed, what the hell was he doing bringing her into his life… a life that could possibly end very soon?
And would she still loved him when she learned that he might eventually have to murder?
Harry sat down on the stone floor and buried his face in his hands. He hadn’t been thinking, he had been so stupid… she could get hurt. She could be kidnapped. Tortured. Killed.
Tears from the well deep inside him threatened to come up again and he fought to keep them down. He was vaguely aware of Ginny calling out his name but ignored her.
What have you done?
“Harry!” Ginny’s face suddenly appeared in front of his. She had seized his hands in her own and pulled them away from his face. Horrified, Harry saw that her eyes were full of tears.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, and Harry could hear a quaver in her voice.
You love her. You can protect her. Just don’t ever make her cry.
He had to tell her. He had to tell her the truth… the truth about everything.
“Ginny,” he started slowly, not even caring that his voice halfway cracked. He motioned for her to sit next to him on the floor. “I… have to tell you something.” Harry closed his eyes for a second, but soon felt the warm squeeze of Ginny’s hand. He looked up and saw she was smiling reassuringly at him. He tried to smile but couldn’t.
“Ginny, if I”I mean, if we… decide to do this… there’s something you should know.”
Ginny scooted closer and twined their arms together. Harry took a deep breath.
“Do you remember last summer? The Department of Mysteries?”
“How could I forget?”
“Well, do you remember what Lucius Malfoy wanted?”
Ginny’s eyes bore into his. “The… prophecy…” she said slowly. “Right?”
“Right.”
“But… Neville said he broke it.”
Harry took another deep breath. “I know what it says.”
“All right.”
Harry couldn’t stand to look at her while telling her. He took his hands from hers and buried his face in them again.
“It says that I have power Voldemort doesn’t have. It says that I have to either kill Voldemort or be killed by him. It says that I’m the only one who can ever kill him.”
He felt Ginny’s arm still and her breath hitch. For once, it wasn’t a good thing. Harry kept his face buried and spoke in a rush.
“So I’m marked. I’m either going to be killed or be a murderer. Voldemort knows that I’m the only one who can kill him. And so anyone who’s close to me is marked as well. And Gin, if you ever got hurt I don’t think I could survive.”
His face burned. He had never said anything quite like that to anyone. He continued in his rushed voice.
“So I don’t think we can try this. If they knew that I love you they would try to hurt you. They would hurt you to hurt me. And I can’t let that happen.”
Ginny’s breath was now coming in gasps. She sounded like she was crying. Again, Harry tried to look at her but couldn’t. He couldn’t believe he had just said all that… and he was crying for the second time in one day. But suddenly Ginny’s face was in front of him and her lips were moving and Harry forgot that he was supposed to be pushing her away.
“Harry, you’ll beat him. I know it. But if you think you’re going to go at it alone, you’re dead wrong. I’m here to stay.” She shifted closer and took his face in her hands. “I know what they can do, Harry. I’ve seen it. Voldemort’s possessed me. I’ve already been through hell, and I turned out OK. So if you’re going to try to push me away because you don’t want me to get hurt… well, sorry, but that’s not going to happen. They already know I love you. And I’m going to love you for as long as I live.”
They both took deep breaths.
“And besides,” said Ginny lightly. “I’m a Weasley. I really can’t be any more linked to you than I am already.”
Harry smiled the ghost of a smile. This had been a very heavy conversation. Ginny smiled at him as well.
“Sorry to burden you with all that,” he murmured, trying to hide his face. Ginny wouldn’t let him.
“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry. I needed to know. What did you think was going to happen if you told me?”
Harry looked at her, trying to make her understand with his eyes so he wouldn’t have to say it aloud. Ginny’s own eyes widened.
“Did you think I wouldn’t love you anymore?”
Harry nodded numbly, but quickly felt his shoulders being seized. Ginny had raised herself up to her knees and pulled him up as well, drawing him close for a powerfully strong hug. Harry gripped her back just as hard, making himself believe that she was still here even after everything he had just told her.
“Harry, I love you. I love you. I have from the moment I first saw you. I have always loved you, and I always will. Forever. Don’t ever forget.”
Quietly, Harry looked at her. Because they were both on their knees, their eyes were on the same level. He counted nine freckles dotting her nose. She had beautiful red hair and a lovely face and was now staring at him with eyes so fierce he was nearly afraid.
You’re delusional if you think you ever could have given her up, Potter.
He moved his fingers to her hair. “Always and forever,” he murmured quietly.
Ginny nodded and moved her head to his shoulder. “Always and forever.”
They stayed in the empty classroom a long, long time.
***
A/N: This is the first time I've posted a chapter without having at least half of the next one written. As of now, I've got maybe two paragraphs down of chapter 8... so it's probably going to be awhile before I can update it again. (At least I didn't end this one with a cliffhanger! :) ) This next chapter is giving me some difficulty, so I don't know exactly when it'll be done. I'll post it as soon as I'm finished, though.
Sorry this chapter was so heavy, but I felt they needed to get things sorted out. I don't think Ginny's the kind of girl who would put up with any secrets, and the prophecy is the biggest secret Harry's got.
Over 80 reviews... you all are too good to me. But (if I may ask) keep it up! I adore hearing from you.
***
What
do we have here? by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Eight: What do we have here?
***
A/N: I’m really, really sorry for the delay. I know how frustrated I get when writers don't update, so I guess I'm feeling a touch hypocritical. Normally I’m good about updating! Unfortunately, I wasn’t very inspired for this chapter. Call it a tiny little case of writer's block. But I've got a plan for the next few chapters, and I promise they'll be updated in a more timely fashion. :D Thanks so much to all my loyal readers for waiting! You guys are incredible.
And, as always, thanks for your reviews. You guys really know how to make a girl smile. :D
***
Three days later, Harry sat in the common room, glaring at the back of Dean Thomas’s head. Only just this morning he had seen Dean wrap his arms around Ginny’s shoulder and squeeze her arm, his hand falling perilously close to areas of Ginny’s body that Harry wasn’t going to allow anyone to touch. Harry shuddered in remembrance. He seemed to be the only one who recognized just how uncomfortable Ginny was with the whole situation. Wasn’t it obvious to everyone that she was not interested in Dean anymore? Couldn’t they tell by her near grimaces whenever he touched her or kissed her cheek? Couldn’t they see that she obviously didn’t care about him?
Right, Potter. Because you’re not jealous or anything.
Much as Harry hated to admit it, the throes of jealousy were upon him. He found that he often had to hold himself back from hexing Dean in his sleep or turning around and punching him whenever he sauntered up to Ginny with his clearly ulterior motives. Harry shuddered again.
“It’s only a week,” Ginny’s voice played inside his head. However nice it was to hear it, Harry wasn’t reassured much. A week was turning out to be a very long time. Only three days had passed since Saturday, and, while there had been three fantastic secret meetings with Ginny in broom cupboards and the room behind the tapestry, there had been far more little incidents that made Harry want to throttle Dean. Dean would say something to Seamus about Ginny and Harry would finger his wand… Dean would take Ginny’s hand in his and Harry would clench his fist… Dean would try to kiss Ginny in front of everyone and Harry’s whole body would clench. It really was remarkable how much jealousy he could feel after only admitting that he loved Ginny for the first time three days ago.
Potter, tell me why you’re thinking about sodding Thomas when there are such better things to be thinking about?
Harry smiled. The memories from his meetings with Ginny had been burned into his mind so he could go over them all in slow, exacting detail whenever he chose… which was most of the time. If Harry’s Professors thought he had been distracted before he had been alone in a dark closet with the beautiful girl of his dreams, they were sorely mistaken. The only way he had even been able to complete his homework in the past two nights was with serious help from Hermione (and ignoring jealous glances from Ron over his own essays). However, the teachers didn’t seem to notice anything unusual, because most all the students were distracted. Christmas break was in three days, and no one really felt like concentrating on work. Some fourth years Harry didn’t know fancied that they would take Fred and George’s place as resident mischief-makers and had set off a round of Dungbombs in the common room Monday night. Both Hermione and Ron had taken pleasure in telling them off, even though Harry had seen Ron wink at the pair and thought he heard him whisper “Just wait a few days, mates.”
Ron hadn’t noticed anything going on with Harry and Ginny, so far as Harry could tell. Harry hoped Hermione would have enough sense not to say anything to Ron concerning Ginny… he hadn’t had a chance to speak to Hermione without Ron being in the room. Ginny must have told her about their agreement.
Harry squirmed when he thought of Ginny telling Hermione what they had done together, as he knew she would. Even if it was just kissing, Hermione was like his sister… it was strange to think of her like that.
Let’s just forget that day you walked in on her and Ron, shall we?
He grimaced, thinking how embarrassed he would be if someone walked in on him and Ginny… although he did take precautions to ensure that no one would. Hermione’s Colloportus charm had done wonders, and Ginny knew a wonderful silencing charm.
Harry couldn’t help but feel a little strange when he thought of just exactly what he was doing. He was actually with Ginny… he was with Ginny. He was running round the castle with a girl he loved… loved… laughing and trying not to get caught. Harry had had secrets before… many of them, in fact. But none of those secrets had made him feel like this. This was exciting, this was… daring. She was still going out with someone… his own roommate. Her brother was his best friend. Her family was his family.
Harry felt like he was a character in one of Aunt Petunia’s soap operas.
It was odd. He had never considered himself to be… romantic. Romantic feelings toward girls had always gotten in his way. Last year his feelings about Cho had resulted in a lot of irritation and annoyance, and then he had learned about the prophecy…. Harry hadn’t even considered girls when he arrived at Hogwarts this year. Whatever this thing was that he had with Ginny was terribly strange. He wasn’t used to it. Love had never played a huge role in his life… he had always had more important things to worry about. But now he could share those things with Ginny (his face still burned when he remembered telling her about the prophecy). It was still strange to know that he could actually tell someone besides Ron and Hermione what was on his mind.
And the fact that that someone was Ginny…
Glad you’ve finally opened your eyes, Potter.
So many times he had imagined being with Ginny, and now that it was actually happening Harry wasn’t exactly sure what to do with himself. How was he supposed to act around her? It was hard to him not to feel embarrassed when he thought of the things he had told her… he had cried in front of her, for Merlin’s sake. But Ginny didn’t seem to mind.
But, for that matter, how was he supposed to act around Ron? Harry had spent the past three days concentrating on not cracking and lunging at Dean whenever he touched Ginny. He had barely had time to consider just how he was supposed to hide the news from Ron that he, Harry, was currently spending as much of his spare time as possible snogging the life out of Ginny in empty broom closets.
You make it sound sordid.
Normally he told Ron everything… how was he supposed to hide something as big as this? Ron would never forgive him if he found out that Harry had been keeping something from him…
“Harry, I’m talking to you, can you hear me?”
Harry’s head snapped up. The noise of the common room seemed to increase dramatically as he came back to earth, instead of up in the clouds, absorbed in his own thoughts. Ginny stood in front of his armchair, a smile playing at her lips.
All thoughts of Ron flew out of his head. Biting back a grin, Harry said “Sorry, Ginny. What was that?”
“I was just asking if you wanted to come with me to the library.” She spoke slowly and raised an eyebrow at him. Harry’s stomach gave a pleasant little flip.
“Do you need some help in the… library?”
“Yes,” she said, twirling a quill in her hands and looking like she was fighting down a blush. “I wanted to work on an essay for Transfiguration and was wondering if you could help me.”
It shocked Harry just how easily this almost effortless lie slid from Ginny’s lips. If Harry hadn’t known what she was really asking him to do, he wouldn’t have had any idea that Ginny had no intention at all of going to the library.
Lucky you know what her real intentions are, eh?
Harry grinned up at Ginny, closing his book and standing. “Sure, Ginny. I’d be glad to help.” Her eyes twinkled at him as she turned to leave. He followed her out of the portrait hole, trying to keep his eyes straight ahead and not on her swinging hips. That had already gotten him into trouble once… Harry didn’t fancy another encounter with a Bat-Bogey hex.
“We’re lucky Ron and Hermione are at a prefect meeting,” Ginny said in a low voice as the Fat Lady swung close. “Otherwise Ron would have wanted to know why I asked you for help instead of Hermione."
“Oh, thanks,” Harry said sarcastically. Ginny turned to him, opening her mouth to protest, but he held up his hand. “I’m just kidding.”
Ginny sniffed and haughtily stuck her chin in the air. Harry could see that she was trying to force down a smile. Grinning, he put his arm around her shoulder, grasping the strap of her schoolbag and lifting it over her head. He then placed the bag on his own shoulder, pretending to stagger when he felt how heavy it was.
“What do you keep in here?” he asked incredulously. “Bricks?”
Ginny’s chin came down and she turned to him, really smiling now. “You took my bag for me,” she said quietly, as though she couldn’t believe that he had done such a thing. Harry tried to shrug but was stopped by the weight of her bag. Ginny laughed.
“I love you,” she whispered. Her eyes scanned the corridor up and down before she leaned forward and gave him a quick kiss. Harry’s cheeks flamed. His instinct told him to grab her and not let her go, but his reason told him to let her step away and wait until they were somewhere private.
Damn your reasoning, Potter!
Clearing his throat, Harry started walking forward again. At the intersecting corridor, he veered right… he knew of a room up ahead that had a very good probability of being empty. Ginny, however, turned left and continued walking the path to the library.
When Harry realized that he was in fact heading in the completely opposite direction from the girl he wanted to get alone, he whirled around. Ginny seemed to come to the realization at the same time he did because, out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of her hair flashing in the torchlight.
Ginny looked at him curiously. “Where are you going? The library is this way.” She pointed over her shoulder.
Harry’s mouth dropped open. Surely… surely… she didn’t want him to… to actually go to the library?
“I”er, well…” Harry stammered, fighting a blush as thoughts of what he thought Ginny had been insinuating rose in his mind. “I didn’t think you wanted to actually go to the… library.”
“Why not?”
Is she being daft on purpose or something?
“Well…”
“Well… what?”
“Ginny, you know what I’m talking about!”
Color rose in Ginny’s cheeks and she ducked her head. “Oh.”
Harry stepped forward. “Do you really want to go… I mean… is that really what you had in mind?”
Ginny flushed an even deeper red and Harry cleared his throat. “I”well, I mean….” She giggled nervously. “Well, of course it’s not what I had in mind, but””
“Good.” Harry strode toward Ginny and grabbed her hand, leading her along the corridor away from the library.
“What”where are we going?” she asked him. When he didn’t answer, she asked again “Harry, where are we going?”
Again, Harry didn’t answer. His mind was made up. He had come across this place almost four years ago by accident… he had been walking back from a detention and heard an older student murmuring the password. He continued to lead Ginny along the empty corridor, ignoring her splutters of protest. Finally, they reached his destination”a blank stone wall, directly across from a creaky old suit of armor. Harry quickly glanced up and down the corridor before pulling out his wand, ignoring Ginny’s questions and curious stare.
“Harry, is this some sort of secret passageway or something? Because we’ve got to””
“Retego Ianua.”
Suddenly, in place of the stone wall in front of them, a door appeared. With a dry click, it swung open. Ginny gasped, and Harry used her momentary distraction to pull her inside.
“Harry, we said we’re going to the library, we have to go there just in case””
After dropping her bag to the floor, Harry silenced Ginny the only way he knew how”by kissing her. Ginny tried to speak again but he just kissed her harder.
It was times like these that Harry wasn’t sure what came over him. This… this… love… was completely foreign to him. He had never had any practice in it. The Dursleys had never been the sort of “family” that openly showed their emotions… that is, emotions other than their hate for Harry and devotion for Dudley. Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were the last people Harry would ever consider parental figures.
Maybe that was why he considered the Weasleys to be his family. Maybe that was why he fell so hard so quickly for Ginny… he had already loved her in the first place.
Maybe that’s why you can’t keep your hands to yourself.
Even as he was kissing Ginny, Harry flushed. He felt her giggle and stopped kissing her, embarrassed. His head fell to her shoulder and she put her hands on the back of his neck.
“I could feel you blush,” she whispered against his ear, sending chills up his spine. “That’s why I laughed.” Harry didn’t say anything, opting instead to revel in the feeling of Ginny’s fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. He felt the sudden, almost overwhelming urge to hug her and abruptly pulled her closer to him. She shivered, and he felt his own body reciprocate.
The only people he could remember ever receiving hugs from were Hermione and Mrs. Weasley. He found he liked Ginny’s hugs much more.
“Are you all right?” she whispered, again sending chills through him at the buzz of her voice in his ear.
“I love you,” he blurted, without ceremony. Ginny’s arms tightened around him and he squeezed her back.
“I love you too,” she whispered. “But if we don’t get out of here and go to the library, people will ask questions.”
Harry groaned and buried his face in Ginny’s neck. “Forget them.”
“We can forget them…” Harry lifted his head, staring hopefully at Ginny, “…once we’ve left Hogwarts for Christmas.” His head dropped back to her shoulder and he tried to keep her in his grasp, but Ginny squirmed her way out of his embrace. “Seriously, Harry. People heard me asking you to go to the library, so we’ve got to go.”
“But I thought””
“Yes, I know you did.” Ginny walked past him and stood in front of the door. “But if we don’t show up at the library for at least a little while, people will gossip. And I know you hate gossip.”
How’d you ever wind up with such a smart woman, Potter?
Even though he knew she was right, Harry scowled.
“Oh, don’t look at me like that,” she said lightly, tossing her hair over her shoulder. “Nice trick with the door, by the way, how did you figure that out?”
Grudgingly, Harry picked up Ginny's bag and walked to the door. “I saw an older student do it my second year. I wanted to see if it was still here.”
“Oh.”
Harry moved past Ginny and quietly opened the door. Sticking his head outside, he looked both ways. No one was there.
Quickly, he seized his chance. Ginny was two feet behind him. He whirled around, placed his hand at the back of her head and drew her in for one last kiss. A noise he wasn’t aware she could make escaped Ginny and Harry grinned. Her eyes remained closed even after he stopped kissing her. Turning away, he opened the door fully. Light flooded the room and made Ginny blink.
“Come on, let’s get to the library.”
It was Ginny’s turn to scowl now, and Harry couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, don’t look at me like that,” he said, halfway mimicking her earlier words. “If we don’t go to the library, people will ask questions.”
“Well… that’s just fine,” she said. “Who needs empty rooms behind hidden doors anyway?”
“Certainly not me.”
“Well, not me either.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Harry stepped out of the classroom, fighting down a grin. Glancing over at Ginny, he saw that she was doing the same. They looked at each other… paused… then burst out laughing.
They walked in companionable silence to the library, where they spent half an hour looking for books that would help Ginny for her Transfiguration essay.
You mean she looked for books, while you looked at…
Harry flushed. He had really tried to look for the books along with Ginny, but it was much more difficult than normal… mostly because another option, and a far more appealing one at that, was right under his nose. So, while he was pretending to look for the books, Harry was really scanning to see if anyone in the library was watching them and then in turn stepping back to watch Ginny.
She really was so lovely. And she was with him.
You really are a lucky man, Potter.
Harry had a feeling that Ginny probably knew he was watching her, even if she didn’t say anything about it. She had blushed more than once… and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hide it. She was a Weasley, after all.
They left the library, Ginny’s bag weighing down Harry’s shoulder even more now that she had just checked out three more books. Their friendly silence continued on the walk back to Gryffindor Tower… Ginny didn’t even say anything when she stepped closer to Harry and laced her fingers with his. This time it was Harry’s turn to blush to the roots of his hair. Ginny squeezed his fingers, and he squeezed back, grinning like mad.
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
Only one person had that voice. Harry’s stomach froze in horror as he dropped Ginny’s hand and turned, only to be greeted with cold gray eyes and a champion, much practiced sneer.
Draco Malfoy stood behind them in the corridor.
***
A/N: Alas, the return of the cliffhanger. :)
*looks over chapter again* It's a bit shorter than 5, 6, and 7. My apologies.
A few disclaimers:
"...slow, exacting detail..." A phrase lifted from After the End, a fic by Arabella and Zsenya, posted at the Sugar Quill.
"Harry, I'm talking to you, can you hear me?" This is the quote from the H/G library scene in OotP. (Chapter 29, page 654 (American Edition)).
"Retego Ianua." Another made-up incantation. Retego means "uncover" or "reveal," and ianua means "door" or "entrance." Original, no? :)
Reviews? Of course. Do you even have to ask? :D
***
Twitchy Little Ferrets Aren't Any Fun at All by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Nine: Twitchy Little Ferrets Aren't Any Fun at All
***
A/N: Hello, all. Thanks for waiting. :)
Thanks for the stream of reviews. It's difficult to put into words the happiness you guys give me. I guess all I can do is be incredibly thankful... and update as quickly as possible! :)
***
“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”
Only one person had that voice. Harry’s stomach froze in horror as he dropped Ginny’s hand and turned, only to be greeted with cold gray eyes and a champion, much practiced sneer.
Draco Malfoy stood behind them in the corridor.
Harry felt the blood drain from his face. Malfoy was here… Malfoy….
Malfoy, who always knew everything going on both inside and outside Hogwarts. Malfoy, who would relish telling everyone what he had just seen. Malfoy, whose father was a Death Eater. Malfoy, whose father would relay the information to Voldemort…
Voldemort, who would now know that Harry cared about Ginny…
Bleeding hell, Potter.
“What do you want, Malfoy?” Harry nearly jumped as he heard Ginny speak in a cold, clipped voice. Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she fixed Malfoy with a hard glare. Merely smirking, Malfoy gestured at their hands.
“Glad to see your mindless worshipping has paid off, Weasel. Finally gotten into Potty’s pants, have you? Your Mudblood boyfriend must be heartbroken.”
Harry wasn’t even aware that he had started toward Malfoy until he felt Ginny pulling him back by his sweater. Malfoy smirked again.
“There is nothing going on between me and Harry,” Ginny lied smoothly. “We’re friends. Surely you’re familiar with the concept?” A smirk that could rival Malfoy’s spread across her face. “Oh, wait, I forgot. You don’t have any friends, how terribly tragic.”
Despite his anger, Harry couldn’t help but laugh. Perhaps this could work… maybe they could throw Malfoy off... he would never know the truth…
That’s it, Potter. Because denial always works.
“Oh, come off it, Weasel. I have more friends than you have Galleons... although that’s not saying much.” Harry saw Ginny’s fists clench at the same time as his. He had just opened his mouth to speak when Malfoy cut him off.
“Do you think I’m stupid? I saw what you just did. Hand-holding, how romantic.” Malfoy clutched at his heart in a mock swoon and Harry resisted the urge to snap his wrist.
“Of course, this is what you’ve always wanted, isn’t it, Weasel? To be Potter’s girlfriend, after all those years of trailing after him like some sort of lovesick dog””
“You would know all about people trailing after you, Malfoy,” said Harry. “Speaking of, where are Crabbe and Goyle?”
“Don’t try to change the subject, Potty. This is a very interesting new development””
“There’s no development.”
“Do you really expect me to believe that? This will be front-page news, Potty. Imagine how interesting this will be to… certain people.”
He's bluffing.
Harry struggled to keep his face impassive. Next to him, Ginny’s breathing was becoming more and more irregular.
“Certain people have no evidence,” she said suddenly in a harsh voice. “No one will believe you, Malfoy, because Harry and I are just friends.”
“Weasel, friends don’t hold each other’s hands””
“Well, you wouldn’t know, would you?” Harry interjected. He turned, gesturing to Ginny. “Come on, Ginny, let’s go.”
They had just started walking away when Malfoy called out at their backs. “They’ll be very interested, Potter. All of them.”
“Who will be interested in what?”
Ron and Hermione appeared in front of Harry and Ginny, Prefect badges on.
“We heard voices,” Hermione said, eyes darting around quickly, taking in the situation, “and we came to tell you to get to your common rooms, because curfew’s in ten minutes””
“You can’t tell me what to do, Mudblood,” Malfoy sneered. Ron gave a twitch.
“Ten points from Slytherin, Malfoy. Keep your fat mouth shut.”
“Get out of my sight, Weasel. One of you is too much already.”
“Ten more points.”
Malfoy’s eyes narrowed and he glared at Ron. “You think you can take points off me?”
“Looks like I just did.”
“You seem to forget, Weasel, that I am a Prefect as well.” Malfoy turned to Harry, his glare full of loathing. Harry glowered back.
“And because I’m a Prefect…” Malfoy said, pausing for what he obviously thought was dramatic effect, “I am forced to take fifty points off Gryffindor.”
“What?!” Four voices rang through the halls. Harry’s stomach fell as his anger rose even higher… Malfoy couldn’t do that… he couldn’t…
What a little bas”
“Malfoy, you forget that you have to have a reason for taking off points,” said Hermione smoothly. “And taking off points just because you feel like it doesn’t work. Umbridge is gone, remember?”
“Oh, Mudblood, I have a reason,” Malfoy said. He smirked at Harry, then shifted his glance back to Ron. Harry shot a worried look at Ginny, who looked back with equal concern in her eyes.
“And what’s that?”
“Potty and Weasel here were just coming back from a little private snog session. As you know, Mudblood, those are illegal””
“What?” Ron bellowed, jumping away from Hermione to stare at Harry and Ginny. Harry felt Hermione’s sudden, wide-eyed stare. Quickly he shifted his gaze to hers and tried to tell her with his eyes that Malfoy was lying.
“You’re lying!” Ron shouted. Malfoy grimaced at the volume of his voice. “He’s lying,” Ron said more softly, sounding like he was trying to convince himself. He turned to Harry, a pleading look in his eye. “Tell me he’s lying.”
Harry couldn’t find his voice. And anyway, he wouldn’t have been able to lie to Ron even if he wanted to. Luckily, Ginny spoke for him. “Of course he’s lying, Ron,” she said. “Harry and I weren’t snogging at all. We were just in the library.” After gesturing to the bag with her hands, she turned to Malfoy. “Go and check with Madam Pince if you want,” she said. “Otherwise get back to your common room and stop thinking up ridiculous lies.”
“You can’t boss me around, Weasel””
“Oh yes she bloody well can,” Ron said angrily “Get out of my sight, Malfoy.”
“Live in denial all you want, Weasel. I know what I saw””
“You saw a pair of friends walking back to their common room, Malfoy,” Ginny said coldly. Clasping her hands together, she turned to Ron and Hermione. “Let’s go,” she said. “I need to get some homework done.”
“We can’t,” Hermione said. “We’re still patrolling””
“Oh, good. Give them more time to snog a little before bed, then.”
“Shut up, Malfoy. No one believes you.”
“Don’t you dare tell me to shut up, Mudblood””
“Don’t you dare call her that, you””
Harry held up his hands. “Ron,” he said, using a line he had picked up from Hermione long ago, “he’s not worth it. Let’s just go.” He took a step forward and gestured for Ron to do the same. Finally, after one last glare at Malfoy, Ron began to walk with Harry, Ginny, and Hermione.
“The Prophet will be very interested in this, Potter!” Malfoy called at Harry’s turned back. Harry pretended not to hear him.
None of them spoke until it was very clear that they weren’t within earshot of Malfoy anymore. Ron slammed his fist into his hand and turned to Harry.
“What was he talking about?” he asked in a very loud voice. “Of all the stories… I can’t believe him… the arrogant wanker””
“Ron!” Hermione scolded. “Don’t swear.”
“Hermione, come on””
“No. You shouldn’t let him get to you like he does. It only encourages him.”
“So, what, I’m just supposed to let him call you names? I’m supposed to sit back and let him spout lies about my best friend and my little sister?” Slowly, Ron stopped walking and turned to Harry, uncertainty in his eyes. “He was spouting lies, right?”
Harry opened his mouth, but no words would come. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t lie to Ron… not after everything they’d done, everything they’d been through…
“Ron, we had just come back from the library,” said Ginny, interjecting for Harry once again. She shot Harry a look that warned him not to say anything and continued. “Harry was helping me pick out books I might need for a Transfiguration essay.”
Ron’s eyes narrowed. “Couldn’t what’s-his-name help you with that?”
“You mean Dean?” Ginny retorted, rolling her eyes. Ron and Harry’s fists clenched simultaneously. “Honestly, Ron, don’t think you can pull that one on me. You’ve known him for longer than I have. He’s only been your roommate for the past six years.”
“Yeah, well””
“Ron, just because Dean’s my boyfriend doesn’t mean that I have to spend every second of the day with him. I can spend time with my friends, too. And Harry is my friend.”
Harry nodded emphatically, ignoring Hermione’s increasingly irritated glances. He’d have to tell her what really happened later on.
“All right,” Ron said slowly, as though he still didn’t really believe them. Harry trained his eyes on his feet.
The silence grew to be quite uncomfortable as they all climbed the staircase leading to the fifth floor. Harry opened and shut his mouth, trying to think of something to say and failing miserably. Once they reached the fourth floor staircase, however, Hermione paused.
“Ron, we really should get back. We still have the whole of the fourth and fifth floors to patrol.” Her voice rang throughout the empty corridor and she turned to face Harry and Ginny. “Sorry, but we’ve got to finish our rounds. See you back in the common room?”
“Yeah,” said Ginny casually. “See you.”
“Bye.” Harry watched as Ron and Hermione turned and made their way down the corridor. After glancing back and Harry and Ginny, Ron turned and whispered something in Hermione’s ear, grinning broadly. Harry heard Hermione hiss “Ron!” and reach out to smack him on the shoulder. Ginny giggled and started up the staircase.
“They never stop, do they?” she asked, starting to climb. Harry shrugged, then realized that she couldn’t see him.
“I guess not,” he answered halfheartedly. On instinct, he cleared his throat.
Potter, now is not the time.
Ginny stopped climbing and craned her neck around to see him. Harry glanced around to see if anyone was near, then leapt up the final two stairs and captured Ginny’s lips with his before she could protest. Quickly he dropped back. The kiss was over almost before it began, but it still left him breathless.
“Harry,” Ginny said admonishingly, raising a hand to her face and looking around. “You… we… can’t. We can’t. Don’t you understand?”
Slightly stung, Harry bit back “Of course I understand, Ginny.”
Her eyes widened. “Of course, how could I forget? You’re Harry Potter… you always understand everything…” Her words drifted off as she glared at Harry, then swung around and continued up the stairs without a backward glance. Sighing, Harry reached out and grabbed her hand. Feeling the resistance, she turned again.
“Don’t… don’t leave it like this,” he said in a tired voice. He didn’t want to fight with her just because they were both acting like prats. Ginny dropped down a step and sighed as well.
“I know… I’m sorry,” she said. They stood together quietly for a minute before Ginny opened her mouth again. “But… you do understand, don’t you? Malfoy’s going to””
“Tell his father and the school.”
“Exactly. Which means that we””
“Have to stay away from each other.”
“Exactly.” Ginny’s voice was quiet and sad, and it pained Harry to hear her speak in such a way. “Harry… this is dangerous. He’s dangerous. He’ll tell his father, and then his father will tell Voldemort…” She shook her head and stared at a portrait. Harry still wasn’t used to hearing Ginny speak Voldemort’s name without a stutter… after all, few people did. All it made him want to do was reach out and kiss her, but he knew he couldn’t.
“We have to stay away from each other,” Ginny whispered, avoiding his gaze. “At least until the holidays. He’s going to spread this all over school, and then if a newspaper article comes out…”
“I understand.”
Quietly they stood on the stairway, shyly looking at each other. Harry could have stayed there all night, but after a while the portraits started shouting at them.
“You scurvy braggart, it is your duty to escort your gentle lady back to your House!”
“Wotcha doin’, standin’ dere on de steps lak tha’?”
“Oh, look, how terribly sweet! Young students in love!”
The last comment made Harry blush furiously. When he caught sight of Ginny’s red cheeks, he couldn’t help but laugh. Ginny giggled as well. Both grinning, they made their way back to the common room.
All too soon they stood in front of the Fat Lady. Ginny turned, twisting her hands together while Harry shuffled his feet.
“So I guess… this is good night,” she ventured in a quiet voice. Harry nodded.
“Maybe we should go in separately,” she ventured again, the tips of her ears turning pink.
“You go first.”
“No, I’ll stay””
“Go.” Harry finally looked up and caught her eye. He opened his mouth and again wished he knew how to put the things he felt into words. Instead, he shrugged and said “Wouldn’t want you to break curfew.”
Lips curving upward, Ginny gave him the same kind of smile that she did when he had taken her bag for her. Silently she leaned forward and kissed him. It was chaste, but his cheeks were still red when she pulled away.
“I’ll talk to you on the train,” she whispered. Harry stepped back as she turned to the portrait hold and said, in a louder voice, “Holly branch.” Glancing over her shoulder, Ginny gave him one last grin before the portrait swung shut behind her.
***
A/N: Not my best work... :(. Originally this chapter was much longer... I was going to include the next day and all the events leading up to the train ride home for Christmas. But then I decided to just post what I had, because all those events leading up to the train ride home are taking longer than I expected. But don't fear! They'll be up ASAP.
Also, a few of you have asked me to read your stories and review for them. I'm honored that you value my opinion! Thanks!
Speaking of reviews... please? :)
PS- I basically rewrote my story "My Juliet." It's now called "His Juliet" and has been validated. (http://fanfiction.mugglenet.com/viewstory.php?sid=15645) Please--- go read it! Shameless advertising, I know, but I really love my readers and I want to know what you all think about my first official piece of fanfiction. :)
***
Easier Said Than Done by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Ten: Easier Said Than Done
***
A/N:All right, all you patient readers out there. Here’s a summary of my past few weeks.
- Two Advanced Placement ( = college level class taken in high school) tests.
- The SATs (Scholastic Aptitude Tests. A major standardized test that most students take in their junior or senior years of high school. This test plays a large role in where you go to college. Needless to say, a little stressful.)
- Literary Criticism (Read up a bunch of critical essays on a novel and then summarize those essays. Difficult? No. It just takes forever. And you all know me well enough by now to know that I don’t always exactly get things done when I say I’m going to get them done (the last three chapters, for instance? :) )
So, one day after I turned in my 45-page literary criticism, shining with my sweat and blood... I collapsed in a bout of flu. So please don't make me feel any more guilty than I already do about not updating... because this whole flu business is already driving me up a bloody wall.
So… there you go. Excuse after excuse after excuse. But you’ll still read… won’t you? :)
***
At breakfast two days later, Harry was seriously regretting the decision to keep his relationship with Ginny a secret. At least then he would be able to stand up to all the gossip.
Why’d you even bother coming down if you know you won’t be able to eat a thing?
As promised, Malfoy had wasted no time in spreading the story that Harry and Ginny were together. Rumors, especially rumors about Harry, always spread through Hogwarts like wildfire, and this one was no exception. During the whole of yesterday, Harry encountered even more whispers than usual. Normally, he was used to people staring, pointing, and talking behind their hands whenever he passed. But today they seemed more prevalent than ever.
“You think there’s any better gossip than Harry Potter finally working up the nerve to kiss Ginny Weasley?”
Harry remembered Ginny’s words and grimaced as he heard whispers buzz up and down the Great Hall.
“I heard he’s with that Weasley girl…”
“Jenny, is her name?”
“No, Ginny””
“Oh, the one with red hair.”
“Gryffindor fifth year, right?”
“Yeah. I heard she sent him a singing valentine her first year.”
“I heard he goes over to her house every summer.”
“I heard he saved her life.”
Normally the rumors going around the castle were ludicrous and completely preposterous. Harry was distinctly uncomfortable with the fact that this time, they weren’t ludicrous at all. He tried to pretend that he had no idea what they were talking about, but the whisperers were everywhere”down every corridor, in every classroom, and of course at all the meals. Harry sat beside Ron in the Great Hall, picking at his eggs, wanting to look at Ginny but not daring to even steal a glance. He wished he could do something, anything, to make her feel better, because if she was feeling as uncomfortable as he was then he wanted to change it. Harry was somewhat used to this kind of attention, but he knew Ginny wasn’t. She was bothered by people giggling and whispering about her”he could tell, even though he hadn’t spoken to and barely even looked at her all day. It bothered him that Ginny was annoyed and there was nothing he could do about it.
He was distinctly, almost painfully aware of her presence. Just because Harry understood why he had to stay away from her didn’t make the actual staying away any easier. It took a concentrated effort not to speak to her or even look at her. This wasn’t like before, when he knew he was in love with Ginny but hadn’t admitted it to her yet. Before, Harry could only have imagined what it was like to kiss her. He now knew exactly what it was like to be with her, to hold her waist and kiss her mouth and let her complete him in the way that only she could. Harry felt the loss of Ginny acutely in every one of his nerves… even if he hadn’t had her for very long. But he had to be careful. The eyes and ears of Hogwarts never stopped looking and listening. This morning, they were all in the Great Hall… he could almost feel dozens of eyes on him, watching him, following his every move to figure out if what they had heard was true. He wasn’t going to give them the satisfaction.
“Bloody git,” said Ron darkly, throwing a glare over to the Slytherin table where Malfoy sat with Crabbe and Goyle, looking immensely pleased with himself. “He thinks he can just come up with lies.”
“Hmm,” Harry hummed in purported agreement. Hermione sent him a withering glare. She widened her eyes and tilted her head towards Ron, who was busy forking a sausage over to his plate. Her meaning was clear, and Harry had a feeling it had something to do with the hurried, whispered conversation they had had the night before.
“Are you planning on telling him anytime soon?”
“Well””
“You have to, Harry! You’re his best friend, and she’s his sister, and he’s going to be hurt if you keep lying to him.”
“I know. I know.”
“Tell him soon, Harry.”
“I will.”
Harry shifted another glance to Ron, who was now cutting the sausage and sending another glare to the Slytherin table.
“Can’t believe we have to spend all morning in the dungeons with that slime,” he growled, angrily shoving a piece of the sausage into his mouth. Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.
Double Potions… of all the classes to have this very morning, he had to have Double Potions…
So, what, Potter, you’re forgetting your class schedule now, too?
Harry groaned. “I’m not looking forward to that.”
“Like any of us ever are,” Ron reasoned, now eating a piece of bacon.
Malfoy suddenly stood from the Slytherin table and began walking out of the Hall in what he must have assumed was a sweeping, debonaire manner. He raised a hand to his perfectly parted hair and shot a nasty smirk at Harry. Forever in Malfoy’s wake, Crabbe and Goyle attempted smirks as well. But theirs couldn’t top Malfoy’s… no one’s ever could. Suddenly Harry needed something to concentrate on and decided that he really wanted some more pumpkin juice. He pretended not to notice the buzz that rose during Malfoy’s departure and the brand new sets of eyes that were currently determining what he, Harry, was doing.
“Did you see that?”
“What?”
“Malfoy leaving the Great Hall!”
“Yeah, so?”
“He’s the one who caught Potter and Weasley!”
“Wait… which Weasley?”
“The girl, stupid.”
“Oh, yeah. I remember now.”
Tuning out the whisperers, Harry turned to Hermione. “Any idea what we’ll be doing in Potions today?”
Both Ron and Hermione raised eyebrows at him, apparently surprised at the unlikely change of subject. Sighing, Harry leaned in and whispered “They’re all talking again.”
Nodding sympathetically, Hermione said “Well, we’ve been working with potions having to do with birth and regeneration for a while now, haven’t we? We’re probably due to begin potions having to do with death today.”
“Great,” Harry muttered darkly. “It’s not like Snape wants to poison me or anything, right?”
Ron chuckled, but Hermione sniffed and turned to her Daily Prophet. Seeing it made Harry’s stomach jolt slightly.
“Er… Hermione?” he asked, in a would-be casual voice. She turned to him, eyebrows raised.
“Hmm?”
“Can I, er… can I see that paper?”
Hermione’s look shifted from somewhat shocked to pleased, and she folded the paper over and handed it to Harry with a smile. He plucked it from her hands and opened it to the front page, ignoring Ron’s snicker.
“I thought you had given up on the Prophet,” said Ron, still grinning. He shifted so he could see the paper as well.
“I just… feel like looking at it today, that’s all,” Harry said uncomfortably, feeling heat rising in his cheeks.
He knew perfectly well that they knew perfectly well that he never read the newspaper. But today there was the possibility of a certain article… an article Harry really didn’t want to see in print. Malfoy had proved he could move quickly by managing to make the whole school buzz with the rumor that Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley were together within one day of stumbling upon them. Harry wasn’t sure if he had been serious in his threat of telling the Prophet, but he still had to check, just to make sure.
Quickly, Harry scanned the pages, searching for headlines like ‘Harry Potter in Love,’ or ‘Harry Potter Finds Himself a Girlfriend.’ Thankfully, none were there. Sighing gratefully, folded the paper back up. Hermione gave him an arch look.
“Did you find what you were looking for?”
“No.”
Hermione grinned and stuck her hand back out for her paper. “That’s too bad,” she said, a twinkle in her eye. Harry couldn’t help but grin.
Ten minutes later, they made their way down to the dungeons, Hermione in the lead with her head held high. Harry and Ron trailed behind her, dragging their feet. Every so often she would toss her hair and let out a “Tut!” but Harry and Ron didn’t bother to listen. Nothing, not even Hermione’s scoldings, could make the prospect of Double Advanced Potions with the Slytherins seem like anything less than sheer torture.
Harry slowed his pace even more as they approached the classroom. He heard a twittering giggle up ahead and cringed when he heard Pansy Parkinson say “Oh, Draco, you’re so funny!” Imagining the smug smirk that must be spread across Malfoy’s face and then immediately wishing he hadn’t, Harry turned his head away.
“Well look who’s here,” said Malfoy in his sarcastic drawl. Harry didn’t look at him. “Oh, ho!” he said, taking a step forward. “What’s the matter, Potter? Are we a little… angry today?”
“Shut it, Malfoy,” said Ron. Harry saw his hand move to his left pocket. So, apparently, did Malfoy.
“Ah, ah, ah, Weasley. I wouldn’t if I were you. Wouldn’t want to get that nice little prefect badge taken away.” Malfoy paused, and when he spoke again, Harry could almost hear the smirk in his voice. “Then again… aren’t we all glad that I’m not you? You see, Weasley, I’m rather attached to having things of my own… and not to mention I’d look dreadful with freckles.”
The dungeon rang with Slytherin laughter, but the Gryffindors remained silent. Harry could almost hear Hermione’s little chant of “Ignore them, ignore them, ignore them," echoing off the damp stone walls.
Malfoy continued. “Ah, yes, who wouldn’t want to be Weasley? Just imagine… living in that pigsty… with all those, oh, what do you call them… oh, yes, gnomes running around…”
Harry saw Ron’s fists clench as Malfoy continued spouting insults, laughing the whole time.
“Of course, if I was a Weasley, I’m not sure anybody would ever know who I was… there are so many children, you know, and there’s only so much time Weasley’s mum can spend waddling around after them all. Who can tell them apart, anyway? They all look the same… talk the same...” Malfoy’s eyes glittered maliciously. “They even act the same… all fawning over Potter… especially the little girl””
“Ten points.”
Ron’s voice was shaking, as were his hands. Harry fought the anger boiling underneath his skin.
“Weasley, you forget that you have to have a reason for taking off points,” he said in cruel falsetto, mimicking Hermione’s words from the other night.
Come on, Potter. What are you doing, keeping your eyes on the ground?
Shaking himself slightly, Harry raised his eyes and glared at Malfoy”but for once, Malfoy wasn’t looking at him. He was looking at Ron with a dangerous glint in his eye behind his trademark smirk.
“Oh, Malfoy, I have a reason,” growled Ron. “Deliberately spreading lies is slander””
“That would indicate that what I’ve spread is a lie,” Malfoy interrupted. For the first time, his eyes landed on Harry as he stepped forward and cocked his head. “But we all know that what’s going around isn’t a lie, is it, Potter?”
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was cut off again.
“Ginny wouldn’t,” said a quiet voice from across the dungeon. “She wouldn’t.”
Everyone turned simultaneously to look in the corner. As his eyes fell on Dean Thomas, Harry felt like he had been punched in the stomach. Dean’s eyes were blazing and refusing to meet Harry’s. Behind him, Seamus looked wary, ready to grab onto Dean’s robes if necessary.
“Shut up, Mudblood, this doesn’t concern”” Malfoy abruptly cut himself off and his smirk grew wider than ever. “Oh, but it does concern you, doesn’t it? The little Weaselette is your girlfriend. Tell me, Mudblood, how does it feel to lose your harlot to Potter?”
At once, the dungeons exploded with angry shouts. Harry, Ron, and Dean each struggled to pounce on Malfoy. Eyes flashing, Malfoy ran and ducked behind Pansy Parkinson and another Slytherin boy Harry didn’t know.
“Bet you’re wishing Crabbe and Goyle were here now, don’t you, Malfoy?” growled Ron, who was being held back by both Hermione and Lavender. Harry felt resistance on the back of his own robes and turned his head, only to see Parvati gripping them, eyes wide. Dean was being restrained by Seamus and did not look happy about it.
“What is going on here?” Snape’s cool, slick whisper came from the top of the stairs. He surveyed the scene with disgust and began descending the stone steps, each movement echoing ominously.
“Potter, Weasley, and Thomas all tried to attack me, sir,” said Malfoy in his smooth voice, coming out from his hiding spot.
“He called my sister a””
“He insulted””
“Malfoy said””
“Enough.” Snape swept his appraising gaze over them all, lingering at Parvati’s hands holding Harry’s robes. She released them with an audible gasp.
“Three against one? Tut, tut,” he said, a malicious grin spreading over his face. “And I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be brave.”
The Slytherins laughed heartily.
“Let’s see… I think it shall be ten from each attacker… and how about twenty more for good measure. So it stands at fifty points from Gryffindor.” The Slytherins laughed again as Harry and the other Gryffindors gathered their bags and stormed into the classroom.
Double Potions turned out to be even more absolutely tortuous than usual. Harry spent the entire lesson fighting down a fierce blush that threatened to rise whenever Malfoy leaned over his cauldron and made some scathing remark. He also had to spend a lot of time holding back a furious Ron, who was not reacting well at all to Malfoy’s insults. The only way he avoided certain disaster was Hermione, who spent her entire lesson whispering directions out of the corner of her mouth at Harry and Ron. This caused Harry to feel a little bit ashamed, because he hadn’t needed Hermione to do that ever since first year. He felt a bit like Neville.
At least Longbottom got to give Malfoy a black eye without getting into trouble.
Harry suppressed a growl and tried to be reasonable. That had been a long time ago… and, now that he was thinking about it, he wasn’t even sure anymore if that had been Neville…
“They even act the same… all fawning over Potter… especially the little girl””
Harry very nearly growled again; he grabbed the nearest flask, put a bit of his potion into it and marked it with his name. Snape’s eyes glittered evilly as he strode forward and dropped the flask on his desk, not even staying to hear the grade. He didn’t care.
Alone, he began pounding away from the dungeons. He knew he was leaving Ron and Hermione behind but somehow couldn’t care. His insides were writhing with guilt and anger.
“Tell him soon, Harry.”
“Hey, Potter!”
Instinctively, Harry turned around. He immediately wished he hadn’t. Dean Thomas was behind him, taking the stairs two at a time. Harry felt the blood drain from his face. He wasn’t scared or even angry… he was guilty. A little fear rose inside him… what if Thomas could see it on his face?
Harry opened his mouth to speak, but no words would come. Dean looked like he was having the same problem. They stood in the stairwell, mouths open, looking at each other. A sort of unspoken conversation was happening, and Harry couldn’t stop it. Dean’s questioning gaze was searching Harry’s guilty one, and Harry had no idea how to stop it. He knew his eyes probably betrayed him, but that was difficult to stop. Words he could lie with… but eyes? Impossible. A dull flush began rising in his cheeks that he knew he couldn’t fight.
“Right,” Dean whispered in a sad voice, nodding his head. “Right.” Suddenly he turned and pounded up the stairs. His absence left Harry feeling even more horribly guilty than ever.
“What was that about?” came Ron’s voice from behind him. Turning around, Harry saw Ron and Hermione climbing the stairs toward him.
Harry shrugged. The guilt increased even more.
“He’s your best friend, Harry…”
Every fiber in Harry’s body was screaming at him to tell Ron, tell Ron, tell Ron!, but he couldn’t.
Maybe you should have been sorted into Slytherin, you coward.
“Come on, let’s go upstairs,” Ron said, starting to climb. “I hate it down here.”
***
Harry grabbed his wand from his bedside table and shoved it into his pocket, a rather interesting feeling of both excitement and dread churning in his stomach. He was excited because he was finally going to get out of Hogwarts to have nice, long holiday. However, nothing could change the fact that he was going to have to go to Grimmauld Place… thus the dread in his stomach.
Fortunately, the benefits of getting out of the castle far outweighed Harry’s hatred for Grimmauld Place. There would be no rumors… no whisperers… no Dean… no Malfoy…
Not to mention who will be there.
Harry’s hands were nearly shaking. He was going to see her today.
He was going to see her.
Grinning broadly, Harry glanced under his bed to see if he had accidentally left anything under there. Just as he was grabbing an extremely dusty sweatshirt, Ron walked in.
“Ready to go?” he asked.
“Almost,” said Harry, shaking the sweatshirt and coughing from the clouds of dust that rose from it. Ron laughed.
“Don’t show that to Mum, she’ll have kittens.” He paused, tilting his head as though contemplating something. “On second thought, she’ll probably want to wash all our clothes once we get to the Burrow, so she probably won’t even notice””
“What?” Harry dropped the sweatshirt and stared at Ron, whose eyes had gone wide. “What do you mean, ‘once we get to the Burrow’?”
Ron’s eyes widened even more. “Didn’t you know?” he asked incredulously.
Shaking his head, Harry responded “No. I thought we were still going to Grimmauld Place.”
Ron looked distinctly uncomfortable. He shifted his eyes away from Harry’s and picked at a thread in his jeans. “I… guess I forgot to mention that letter from Mum.”
Yeah, guess so.
Harry ignored all the sarcastic remarks fighting to get out and opted instead to feel the excitement rising in his chest like a flame. “We’re… we’re really going to the Burrow? Not… not Grimmauld Place?”
Ron shook his head. “Mum owled me a few days ago. I guess I just told Hermione.”
Judging by Ron’s flamingly pink ears, Harry decided he really didn’t want to know the circumstances during which this conversation had taken place between Ron and Hermione.
“Oh,” he said genially, turning away to give Ron time to compose himself. “That’s great.”
“Yeah. You need help with your trunk?”
Harry grinned. “No, thanks. I’ve got it.”
“All right.”
Together Harry and Ron walked down the stairs and out of the Gryffindor common room. Harry cast a hopeful glance around for Ginny but didn’t see her. She must have already gone. Chatting amiably about what they wanted to do once they got to the Burrow, they made their way outside to the queue waiting for the carriages to be pulled by the thestrals. Deliberately positioning himself so that he wouldn’t have to look at the thestrals as they arrived, Harry had a lively conversation with Ron about the dirty playing tactics of the Falmouth Falcons and the slim hope that the Chudley Cannons might actually do something with themselves this year.
“They’ve really got to change their motto,” said Ron energetically. “Honestly, ‘Let’s cross our fingers and hope for the best’? Bit of a defeatist attitude, if you ask me.”
It’s not exactly hard to see how much Hermione’s rubbed off on him, is it?
“Wonder where Hermione is,” Harry said absently.
“Oh, she’s off with Ginny somewhere. Something about “girl stuff,” I didn’t want to bother.”
Harry’s stomach gave a slight twinge. “Yeah,” he said in the same absent voice.
All right, Potter, here’s your chance.
“I never did understand that,” said Ron, scanning the crowd as well. “Girl stuff. Just what makes it so different from all the… you know, regular stuff?”
“So, Ron, speaking of girl stuff…”
“And they have to get all secretive about it, too””
“I’ve actually been meaning to tell you a secret of mine, Ron…”
“Bloody irritating, it is. I think they half do it just to annoy us.”
Come on, Potter! Spit it out!
“Yeah, that’s it. They know it gets to us and so they do it just to drive us mad.” Ron’s eyes stopped searching and his head dropped. He nudged Harry and grinned. “Women, eh?”
“Yeah… women.”
Women? Don’t you mean teenagers? I know you’ve been through a lot, Potter, but you aren’t nearly an adult yet”
“Ah, here’s one.” Ron stepped forward, said “Wingardium Leviosa!” and floated his trunk into the carriage. Harry did the same. On the ride down to the Hogsmeade train station, he switched the topic back to Quidditch.
“I’m telling you, Ron,” Harry said as they stepped out of the carriage and onto the train platform, “half of the Cannons’ problem is their Seeker. If he could catch the Snitch even half of the time””
“Galvin Gudgeon is just fine, I’ll have you know””
“Oh, please, Ron. You’ve seen his record, you know how horrible””
“Why is it…” said an amused voice from behind him. Harry whirled around. Ginny was standing with Hermione, their trunks on top of one another. “… that you teenage boys only ever talk about Quidditch?” She was grinning from ear to ear.
Every sound seemed to fade away as he looked at her. She was smiling widely. Her eyes flicked to his just briefly before going back to Ron’s.
She’s beautiful.
A nagging worry in the back of Harry’s mind told him it probably wasn’t a good idea to openly gape at Ginny on a crowded train platform where everyone could see, but the voice was diminishing into the far recesses of his brain. Ginny was right here… right here… she was smiling and her eyes were bright and he was close enough to touch her…. Let the others be damned. Let them talk all they wanted. None of it mattered… nothing they said mattered… all that mattered was her. And if he wanted to look at her, then he could damn well look at her.
Ginny had worn her hair down around her shoulders today instead of up in her usual ponytail. With every shift of her body, the color changed slightly… the sun caught it and made it shine… how was it possible for someone to have hair like that? Her eyes were shining as well, and her lips were curved upward in a teasing grin… they opened and formed words… though what she was saying, he couldn’t have told. She was wearing Muggle clothes, as most everyone was… she even had on the sweater that she had worn for their detention…
You know she probably did that on purpose, right? Just to drive you mad.
Well, Harry reasoned, if this was being driven mad, he didn’t want her to do anything else. Ginny’s mouth was now twitching at the corners as she looked at Ron, the tips of her ears growing steadily pinker as he, Harry, continued to gaze at her.”
“… right, Harry?”
Harry felt a nudge in his ribs and jumped. Ron was staring at him with an expectant look on his face. Hermione was trying to look disapproving and Ginny was trying not to laugh. Quickly Harry shifted his attention to Ron.
“What?”
“Tell Ginny that we don’t talk just about Quidditch,” said Ron slowly, causing Harry to believe that he’d already said this once. Harry turned to Ginny, glad for the opportunity to meet her eyes.
They were sparkling at him. She raised one eyebrow mockingly, as if daring him to say what Ron had told him to say.
What a little minx.
She’s bloody fantastic.
Harry opened his mouth. It suddenly took a monumental effort to speak. “We don’t just… talk about Quidditch,” he said slowly.
She smiled, slowly and broadly. Harry wanted to grab her and kiss her.
“All right, I believe you,” she said, in a voice that clearly said she didn’t believe them for a second. Harry didn’t care.
“We don’t,” said Ron huffily, swishing and flicking his wand to retrieve his trunk from the carriage.
“Oh, and what else do you talk about?” Ginny said in a deceptively innocent voice. “Girls?” she taunted, eyes twinkling. Harry was shocked that she remembered their conversation and was now using their words to tease Ron. It was... strangely… exciting. Almost… daring. Ginny’s eyes flicked to his again. They remained there for the briefest second…
“Oh, no you don’t,” said Ron triumphantly. “How is me and Harry talking about girls any different from you and Hermione talking about “girl stuff”?”
Both Ginny and Hermione went red.
“Harry, help us with our trunks, won’t you?” said Hermione, quickly changing the subject and snapping him out of his reverie. Ron looked pleased.
“Oh, yeah,” said Harry, reaching for his wand. “Sure.”
“That’s all right,” said Ginny, holding out her hand to stop him. She let her hand rest on his for the briefest second before drawing it back and raising it up to her hair. Slowly and deliberately, she flicked it off her shoulder. Harry stared, mesmerized. “I’ll see you all later, okay?” she said, using words that sounded like they were for everyone but were really only for him.
Don’t go.
“What, you won’t sit with us?” said Ron, trying to sound hurt. “Guess you’ve got to find your boyfriend.”
Shut up, Ron.
Harry had to work not to flinch when he heard the word ‘boyfriend.’ He concentrated on Ginny’s face instead. She was currently rolling her eyes at Ron.
“I’ll come find you later,” she said, using her wand to float her trunk up into the train. At the last second, she looked over her shoulder and shot Harry a grin. “Bye,” she said, waving a little. She then turned around and tossed her hair. Her hips swung as she walked up the two steps into the train.
Harry put a hand on the carriage for balance. Hermione looked at him in a shrewd sort of way before her face broke out into a huge smile.
“Look,” she said, pointing at her watch. “It’s almost time. Let’s find a compartment.”
***
Two hours and several riotous games of Exploding Snap later, Harry was starting to worry. He hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Ginny since she had said goodbye on the platform. Had she forgotten her promise? What if she wasn’t coming? What if… Harry’s stomach fell even more at the thought… what if she chose Dean over him?
Probably should have known better, Potter. After all, he is taller… and he’s an artist, girls always like artists…
“Harry, watch out!”
BAM.
Harry jerked his face away before his eyebrows and the top of his fringe caught fire. They were already singed, as it were. Exploding Snap was not a game that could be played while letting one’s mind wander.
So stop letting it wander, then.
Harry tapped his cards with his wand to restore them to their original state. “You win again,” he told Ron, with a somewhat forced laugh. Ron didn’t seem to notice.
Harry handed the cards over to Ron, who had stuck his hand out with a grimace. The interesting thing about Exploding Snap was that preparing to play the game was almost as dangerous as actually playing. The cards threatened to explode at any moment… thus Ron’s hesitation.
“You sure it’s not your turn?”
Harry laughed again, and this time it wasn’t forced. “Positive. Last time I shuffled, this happened, remember?” He pointed to his singed eyebrows and Ron grinned.
“Oh, yeah.”
“Ron…” said Hermione, looking up from her book. “You’ve really only got time for one more game. Remember, we’ve got patrols in ten minutes.”
Ron forgot the cards and shot an annoyed glance at Harry, rolling his eyes. Harry shrugged.
“Hermione,” said Ron in a whiny voice. “Can’t we just make the fifth years do it? We’re older… and they’re bloody annoying, anyway.”
“Oh, thanks, Ron,” said a voice in the door frame. Harry didn’t even have to turn around to know who it belonged to.
She came.
“Ginny!” said Ron, sounding delighted. “You’ve finally decided to abandon lousy what’s-his-name and come spend quality time with your favorite big brother?”
Harry whirled around to look at her. She was currently rolling her eyes at Ron… but she was grinning as well.
“I guess you could put it that way,” she said deliberately, looking at Harry. He gulped. Ginny then shifted her glance to Ron. “Yes, Ron, I’ve come to spend some quality time with you all. Dean was…” Ginny’s face darkened slightly. “Dean was being weird,” she concluded, stepping fully into the compartment and dragging her trunk along behind her. Harry and Ron both jumped up at the same time to help her, but Harry was closer. He caught Ginny’s eye as he helped her move her trunk into the luggage rack overhead, taking care not to knock down Pigwidgeon’s cage.
“Thanks,” she said in a soft, almost breathless voice. Harry opened his mouth to say “You’re welcome,” but found he couldn’t have spoken even if he tried.
Does she even know how bloody gorgeous she is?
Hermione was looking from Harry to Ginny very quickly. Abruptly she stood up and snapped her book shut. “Ginny, you’ve got wonderful timing,” she said, straightening her robes and making sure her Prefect badge was secure. “You can keep Harry company while Ron and I do our patrols.”
“Oh, really?” said Ginny, smiling. “That’s great.”
“Here, Gin”take my cards,” said Ron, standing up. “You can play for me while I’m gone.”
For one fleeting second, Harry saw a look pass Ginny’s face that said there was no way in hell she was going to play Exploding Snap. A moment later, however, the look passed and she grinned at Ron. “Sounds great.”
As if you’re going to let her do anything but”
“We’ll be back in a bit,” said Ron, stepping out into the corridor.
“Yeah, bye,” said Hermione. “Oh, Ron, I’ve forgotten something… hang on…” Hermione quickly reappeared back in the compartment.
“I probably can’t give you any more than half an hour,” she whispered quickly. “All right?”
“Mmm hmm,” Harry hummed in affirmation, not taking his eyes off Ginny’s face. Hermione gave a little giggle.
“Honestly,” she said. “You two.” She stepped outside and the compartment door slid shut behind her.
Finally.
They were alone.
Alone.
“Hi,” said Ginny, somewhat timidly, after a long period of silence. “How… how are you?”
“Fine,” said Harry, sounding like he had something stuck in his throat.
“That’s good,” said Ginny.
“And… and you?” he tried, his voice again sounding strangely constricted.
“Oh, I’m fine,” said Ginny. “Just fine,” she whispered.
Harry felt his gaze move instinctively down to her mouth. Ginny’s tongue came out quickly to wet her lips.
It’s now or never, Potter.
As though they had come to the decision simultaneously, Harry and Ginny rushed toward each other. At first, he just wrapped his arms around her and brought her flush against him, gripping her tightly. She made a fantastic little noise and buried her face in his neck. Harry kept one hand moving on her back, rediscovering places he hadn’t touched in what felt like forever… there was her spine… and her shoulder blades…. Ginny giggled when he ran his fingers along the small of her back and Harry gasped when he felt her mimic his touch with her own hands. Harry used his other hand to reach up and stroke her hair… her hair, her incredible hair… he had missed it. He had missed looking at it, missed touching it… Harry knew he was being irrational but couldn’t help it. This slow reintroduction was the most fantastic thing he had ever felt, even if his mind told him he hadn’t been separated from it for very long. His body told him something much different.
And right now, his body was screaming at him to kiss the living daylights out of Ginny Weasley.
Harry pulled back slightly so he could look her in the eye. Ginny pulled back as well, grinning broadly at him.
“Hi,” he said, not caring that his voice was raspy.
“Yes, hello,” she said, laughter in her voice.
Harry couldn’t stand it any longer. The past three days or however bloody long it had been had not gone well for him. He needed to kiss her right now.
Harry pulled Ginny close to him again and spun her around so quickly that she let out a gasp when he pressed her against the door.
“Maybe I shouldn’t make fun of Quidditch,” she said, laughing, “if it makes you move like that.”
Harry smiled at her. She tugged her arms out from beneath his chest and wrapped them around his back, bringing him closer to her than he would have dared gone himself.
He could feel everything…
Best not to dwell on that right now, Potter.
Ginny’s eyes dropped to his mouth. She wet her lips again. Harry wondered if the action was involuntary, and then figured it probably was.
But suddenly all manner of rational thought left him. Suddenly there was no train, there was no Hogwarts, and there was no Voldemort. There was only Ginny, who he currently had pinned to a door… and who was moving her lips toward his in far too slow a fashion.
Harry bent his head at the same time as she lifted hers. And, for the first time in what seemed like forever, their lips met.
***
A/N: It's not exactly a cliffhanger... is it? :)
Hope you liked it. If you did... review! Tell me what you liked. If you didn't... review! Tell me what you didn't like.
One quick disclaimer:
I got the name Galvin Gudgeon from the Harry Potter Lexicon, and I assume they got it from Quidditch Through the Ages.
Just to let all of you know, I'm going to be buried in makeup work because of this whole flu thing, so fanfiction will probably be low on my list in the next week or two. Sorry, but... I'm a junior in high school. And I gotta go to college somewhere. :)
***
What the Bloody Hell Is Going On? by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Eleven: What the Bloody Hell is Going On?
***
A/N: Hello everyone. As you all know, I've had makeup work galore and post-illness recovery. Thank you for all your kind reviews. :)
Ah.... the past two weeks have been crazy as well. I had Spring Break, which I spent touring the East Coast of the United States looking at different colleges. Boy, do I feel smart. :) The only day I could have possibly posted (eg- the only day I had internet access) was the day that Mugglenet shut down the queue. I was so glad I got chapter ten in before then!
This chapter went through massive edits. It was originally very different, but I changed it all... especially after all the "I think Ginny was OOC" reviews of last chapter. I hope you like this version! :)
***
Harry bent his head at the same time as she lifted hers. And, for the first time in what seemed like forever, their lips met.
The first contact was slow and sweet, chaste and completely innocent. Harry barely brushed his lips over Ginny's but still reveled at how much she could make him feel with just this dry contact with her slightly chapped lips. The sensitivity in his nerves seemed to increade tenfold... everywhere Ginny touched tingled pleasantly, like his body was waking from being asleep. She ran her hands down his shoulders and arms and back up again and Harry shivered. He kept his hands on her face, running his thumbs over her cheeks.
They continued kissing chastely until she broke away. Ginny dropped her forehead to his shoulder and Harry stood awkwardly, at a loss as to where to put his hands.
Her hips look available.
Her hips? Was that allowed? Harry swallowed, and Ginny sighed.
"This is harder than I thought," she whispered into his shoulder. "I mean... we're lying. I'm lying. I feel so terrible."
Harry finally decided to put his hands on her waist. Moving his hands slightly just to introduce himself to the area, he said the only thing that would come to mind. "Terrible?"
Brilliant discourse, Potter.
Ginny raised her head and looked at him with plaintive eyes. "Yes, terrible," she said. "Hermione told me how Dean stood up for me in the dungeons, and then just now on the train he had this horrible look in his eye, like he's figured it out... I had to leave. I feel so awful."
Harry’s breath caught in his throat, but he tried to speak casually. “Do you think he... knows?” he asked awkwardly. He diverted his eyes away from Ginny, embarrassed.
“Probably,” she said, sighing. “I mean, everyone else does. Or at least they think they do. Haven’t you heard them all week?”
“Oh, I’ve heard them,” said Harry darkly.
“That was hard too,” she said, sighing again and moving her head back down to his shoulder. “All these girls kept pointing at me and whispering about me... and I wanted to just turn around and shout at them all. But that wouldn’t have gotten anything done.”
“Mmm.”
Harry felt like a complete arse. He wished he could tell Ginny how he had felt surges of protection for her, how he had wanted to do something to make her feel better, but his tongue seemed to be stuck. Ginny didn’t seem to mind. She was currently smoothing the wool of his sweater and sending little shock waves of pleasure down his arm.
Because it seemed like the right thing to do, Harry tilted his head and kissed her gently. She kissed him back and her mouth opened under his, inviting him in for a slow exploration. Harry obliged her gently, almost hesitantly, and he felt her smile.
This was brilliant. She was brilliant. Last year’s foray into the world of kissing was nothing compared to this. Last year, Cho Chang had made him feel nervous and uneasy. But kissing Ginny felt so completely natural to Harry that he had to wonder why he had never done it before.
Ginny’s hands moved up and down his spine and back and forth across his shoulder blades, making Harry shiver. He wanted to reciprocate but couldn’t, because she was still pressed up against the door. That left him... other options... as to where to put his hands...
Best to stick to her waist, Potter. Maybe her arms, too.
Harry blushed at the thought of where he could put his hands. Though it pained him to do so, he decided that Ginny’s front was off limits. Instead, he allowed himself to move his hands up and down her side, trailing his fingers up to the side of her rib cage and then down to the swell of her hip. Judging by Ginny’s shivers, his touch was having the same effect on her as hers did on him... Harry marveled at the fact that he could affect Ginny as strongly as she could affect him.
Then, just as gently as it had started, the kiss ended. Harry fell back a step and brought Ginny with him, away from the door. He held her close, loving the feel of her hair against his cheek and of her arms around his back. His own arms were wrapped around her shoulders and he felt a surge of something like power... protectiveness.... He came to the sudden conclusion that nothing would ever happen to Ginny, not on his watch.
“I love you,” he murmured into her hair. Idly he brought a hand up to it and smoothed down the parts where his hands had mussed it up earlier. He felt Ginny smile again and dropped a kiss on her temple.
“This is so wonderful,” she sighed, squeezing her arms around his waist.
“You’re wonderful,” Harry blurted, before he had a chance to think about what was coming out of his mouth. It was the truth, but his face still burned.
Honestly, Potter. You hardly talk at all, and then when you do talk you manage to make yourself seem like a complete and total--
Ginny giggled and interrupted his thoughts. “You have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say that.”
Harry’s face burned again. He often wondered just why it had taken him so long to notice Ginny. He opened his mouth to try to tell her, but Ginny, who was currently resting her head on her shoulder with her eyes closed, beat him to it.
“You were always so kind,” she said in a near-whisper. “I say I’ve waited forever to hear you say that, and I feel like I have. But it wasn’t so terrible, because you were never mean to me about it.”
Harry’s shoulders straightened almost imperceptibly at the praise. He had never exactly been particularly proud of his twelve-year-old self.
So saving her life doesn’t count?
“Everyone else teased me... oh, Fred and George were the worst,” she said, and he could feel the heat rising from her cheeks on his neck. Harry shifted his arms and brought her closer. “But you never did. You would just smile and be so handsome and polite and brave...” Ginny trailed off. Harry felt his neck get hotter and realized that she was probably blushing more. Suddenly, Ginny moved her head from his shoulder. She bent it forward and pressed her forehead into his chest, obviously embarrassed. “You’re going to think I’m stupid,” she said, her voice muffled.
“No, I won’t,” Harry said quickly, giving her a squeeze. When Ginny remained silent, Harry lifted his hands to her face. “What?” he asked, turning her chin up. Ginny smiled.
“Well...” she whispered, then drifted off.
Harry wasn’t sure who moved toward who, but all of a sudden they were kissing again and nothing else really mattered. A very warm feeling enveloped him and centered in the pit of his stomach. Ginny made a quiet sound of contentment and gently opened her lips.
“What the bloody hell is going on?”
Harry’s eyes snapped open and his stomach seemed to drop out as he felt Ginny freeze beneath his arms.
That’s Ron.
...
Oh, bleeding, sodding hell.
“Harry? Ginny?”
Ginny’s head jerked up. She shot a terrified glance at Harry before backing out of his embrace and straight into her brother.
Ron didn’t seem to be too fussed about Ginny standing directly in front of him. He lifted his hand and wrapped his arm around Ginny’s shoulder, tugging her over to his side without removing his eyes from Harry’s.
Horrible, squirming guilt and agitation filled him. The only person Harry had ever seen Ron look at that like was...
Malfoy.
The warmth that had just been in Harry’s stomach was completely gone. Instead, he felt every one of his organs had turned to lead.
The anger in Ron’s eyes was quickly dissipating and filling with something that looked horribly like disappointment. He opened his mouth but soon closed it and shook his head. Harry felt his breathing coming more and more rapidly. He stood, nearly panting, unable to look away from Ron’s penetrating gaze of dejection.
Quietly, Hermione sidled into the compartment. She silently shut the door and stood on Ron’s other side. She pursed her lips and wrung her hands, apparently at a loss as to what to say.
Harry felt as if he was standing in front of a firing squad. He knew that Ginny must be near tears, explosion, or both. The silence in the compartment was deafening and seemed to press in on Harry’s ears as he stared at Ron.
The sound of someone clearing their throat came from Harry’s right. He jumped, startled, and watched as Ginny opened her mouth to speak.
“Ron--”
“Stop.”
Harry thought he had seen Ron angry on many occasions. He thought that an angry Ron was a shouting Ron, a Ron who was purple in the face with clenched fists.
You were wrong.
The expression Ron had on his face now was different than any expression Harry had ever seen on his face. Anger and disappointment seemed to permeate through Ron’s skin. He looked almost...
Dangerous.
Ginny tried to start again. “Ron, let me explain--”
“No.”
“Please--”
“Be quiet.”
“Ron--”
“Damn it, Ginny!”
Ron lifted his arm off Ginny’s shoulder and pushed her away in a rather rough manner. She stumbled against Harry with an “Ooomph!” Harry felt a surge of anger but quickly repressed it. He was in no position to be angry at Ron. Against his arm, Harry felt Ginny’s fumbling fingers. He reached up to take her hand, gripping it tightly in his own. Ginny seemed to be the only thing that was anchoring him to the ground. They stood together, facing Ron and an uncharacteristically quiet Hermione.
Ron raised his hand up and raked it through his hair. He then kept it in the air, pausing for a second before nodding, as if he had come to a decision. He pointed to Harry and Ginny and then to the long compartment seat with the hand he had just raked through his hair.
“You’re going to sit,” he said. “I’m going to ask you questions, and you’re going to answer.”
Because he was also in no position to be righteously angry at being bossed around, Harry turned to the compartment seat, still holding Ginny’s hand. Ron turned to Hermione and gave her his hand. Once he had it securely tucked in his own, he moved to the seat facing Harry and Ginny. Hermione followed, trying to catch Harry’s eye with what he assumed was an apologetic look.
Harry felt a pair of eyes bore into the side of his head and quickly shifted his gaze to Ron’s. Ron opened his mouth and spoke pointedly at Harry.
“When?”
This wasn’t the question Harry had been expecting; however, he cleared his throat and answered.
“A week ago.”
“How long before that?”
Harry stared blankly at Ron, not sure what he meant. Ron clarified.
“How long did you like Ginny before that?”
He didn’t have to think about the answer to this one. “Since the day we walked in on her and Dean in our dormitory.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Harry opened his mouth even though he was at a loss as to what to say. “I... couldn’t,” he said, somewhat lamely. Ron looked about to scoff, and Harry hastened to correct himself. “I couldn’t,” he repeated. “You’re her brother, I couldn’t tell you. I was... scared.”
Harry hoped that Ron recognized the monumental proportions of that statement and was pleased when he saw his eyebrows rise.
With his next question, however, Ron ignored what Harry said. “So all that Malfoy said was true?” he said, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
Malfoy.
“Not everything,” Ginny said from beside Harry. “We really did go to the library,” she finished, in a quietly ashamed voice.
“But you had just come back from...” Ron gestured with his hand, apparently unable to say the words, and Harry’s cheeks flamed. Solely because Ron was his best friend and he was determined to be honest, Harry nodded his head.
“And you haven’t told your... boyfriend?” Apparently the word still gave Ron trouble.
Harry and Ginny nodded somberly.
Ron raked a hand through his hair again and turned his head in Hermione’s direction. “I assume you knew about this?” he asked. Hermione nodded, and Ron let out a bitter laugh. “How did I know?” he asked quietly, mostly to himself.
Several tense, painfully silent minutes passed. A sort of numbness overtook Harry and he wasn’t sure exactly what he was supposed to do, say, or even feel. Was he supposed to apologize? Tell Ron that he had been wrong? What if he had to... Harry gulped... stop seeing Ginny?
Harry quickly turned and looked at Ginny, squeezing her hand.
No sodding way.
“You know, I sort of figured it out,” Ron said suddenly and quietly. He stood up and moved to stare out of the window. “Especially after the Malfoy thing. It was mostly you, Harry,” he said, vaguely gesturing over his shoulder in Harry’s direction. “You thought I never noticed the looks you gave her, but I did. And giving up your Invisibility Cloak, even for a few days?” Ron laughed, and this time it wasn’t bitter. “It was too obvious.”
“Ron...”
“You never could lie well, anyway. You always say that you’re fine, and that nothing’s wrong, but I can see right through it. Did you ever know that?” Ron asked, glancing over his shoulder at Harry. “You’re a bloody awful liar. It was Ginny I wasn’t sure about. She’s too good.” He turned back to the window and placed his palm flat against it. “Probably learned it from Fred and George,” he said absently, speaking to himself again.
“So you knew?” came Ginny’s voice from beside Harry.
Ron paused before answering. “I think... well... it all makes sense now,” he reasoned, shrugging. “I’m just putting all the pieces together.” He moved away from the window and grabbed the luggage rack, speaking to all of them now. “I think I always sort of knew,” he said, gesturing toward Harry and Ginny with his free hand. “Like... I knew, but I didn’t know, you know?”
Somehow, Harry did.
“Ron, I’m we didn’t tell you,” Ginny said. “But it’s all just so new. You didn’t tell me about Hermione until about a month after you guys started dating, remember?”
“Right,” said Ron, speaking to Ginny but looking at Harry. The truth was, Harry had been the only person who had known about Ron and Hermione before everyone else. Harry felt another pang of guilt. If he had known about Ron and Hermione... then Ron should have known about him and Ginny.
“I’m just a little disappointed, that’s all,” Ron said with a shrug. “That you didn’t tell me.”
“Ron--”
“But--” said Ron, holding up his hand. “Just because I’m disappointed... doesn’t mean I disapprove.”
Harry let Ron pace to the compartment door, not saying anything. He knew Ron well enough to stay silent. Turning to Ginny, he saw that she was biting her lip uncertainly. Her eyes twinkled at him, however, and she squeezed his hand. He leaned a little to his right and gently knocked her shoulder with his.
“It’s just weird, y’know? I mean..” Ron turned around again and looked at Harry. “You’re my best friend.” He turned his glance on Ginny. “You’re my little sister. It’s just... different.”
Harry saw his cue. He looked at Ginny, raised his eyebrows at their hands, and let hers go. She nodded and gave him a small smile. Harry stood up and tentatively approached Ron.
“Ron... mate.” He stopped in front of Ron and struggled to meet his eyes. However, when he finally did, Harry saw that Ron’s usual glint had returned to his eye. He was currently looking at Harry with his lips twitching. Harry grinned a little. He heard a giggle from behind him and his grin spread. Ron’s trademark lopsided smile broke out on his face.
“Ron, I’m--”
“It’s okay.”
“No--”
“It’s okay.”
Harry’s grin stayed plastered on his face. Ron wasn’t going to let him apologize. He distinctly remembered a time where he himself wouldn’t let Ron apologize and was extremely glad that they weren’t going to have another fight.
“I’m happy for you, mate,” Ron said, reaching out and grabbing Harry’s shoulder. “This is great.” He glanced over Harry’s shoulder at Ginny. “Really great.”
***
A/N: I had a totally different plan for this chapter, but then I started writing and realized that Ron's reaction just wouldn't work. Review and tell me if you liked it or if you thought he was a little off.
Um... disclaimers. Harry and Ginny's conversation was inspired from a conversation the two characters had in... yes, you guessed it... After the End. I realize that I've drawn a lot of things from their story, but... what can I say? I read the best. :)
In the next chapter we're finally going to get to go to the Burrow. :D I like it a lot.
Christmas in April... what a strange world we live and write in. Three and a half months til HPB! :D
***
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Twelve: Welcome Home
***
A/N:
Hello, dear readers. I'm back.
Yes, I've heard your pleas and cries.
Yes, I know it's been a long time.
Yes, I know that you've been burning to know what happens next.
You all flatter me too much. And I wish that I could say something other than "I'm sorry" to such wonderful readers and reviewers, but... I can't.
So, here it is... my humble apology and dear wish that you'll keep being the wonderful people that you are and tell me how you like the progression of the story. This chapter is all over the place... I'm not really sure how it came to be. I had a plan for it, but then it was late and I had the writing bug and... I produced this. Hope you like it.
Ron just found out about Harry and Ginny in the last chapter, in case you don't remember. Hermione has known since way back in chapter four. The four of them are on the Hogwarts Express, waiting to go to their Christmas hols.
***
For the remainder of the train ride, Harry sat next to Ginny, holding her hand and occasionally touching his knee to hers. They chatted easily with Ron and Hermione, discussing what they were going to do once they got to the Burrow and what Hermione was going to do with her parents in Spain. Ron looked a little downcast whenever Hermione mentioned her plans, and Harry saw him staring at their entwined hands with a look of longing. Harry knew he himself would miss Hermione as well… but with Ginny so close beside him… it was hard to concentrate on anything else. Not when she would glance over at him every once in awhile and casually find ways to get closer without Ron noticing. Harry knew Hermione was going to join them the day after Boxing Day, so he couldn’t muster up too many sad feelings. There was too much joy bubbling up inside him.
Ron approved.
He approved.
He knew, and he still approved. He had caught them, he knew they had lied to him (something Harry still felt awful about), and he still didn’t mind. He was happy for them.
One brother down, five to go.
Harry didn’t want to think about Ginny’s brothers if he didn’t have to. Right now, there was only Ginny, Ron, and Hermione. Every so often, Harry would run his thumb over Ginny’s knuckles and enjoy the feeling of her small hand in his. Whenever he did it, she would turn her head just the slightest fraction and give him a small smile, biting her lip a little. He would smile back and wish that he could kiss her but figured it probably wasn’t a good idea, what with Ron and Hermione sitting across from them and all.
Harry tried to listen to Hermione, but he could only take so much information about the sites in Santiago de Compostela and the Roman churches in Oviedo. However, even Hermione couldn’t talk forever, and the rest of the trip passed in relative quiet. Odd, thought Harry, normally these trips are eventful.
He remembered the train trip home last summer where the idea of being more than Ginny’s friend was first planted into his head. But he had had other things on his mind.
Turning his head again, he sought Ginny’s eyes but realized they were closed. Her mouth had fallen slightly open and she was breathing deeply. Harry smiled. She was beautiful.
She was the one who had pulled him through.
Harry kept his eyes on the sleeping Ginny but let his mind wander. Yes, she had gotten him through. The summer before his sixth year had been one of the worst he could remember. But then, one day, he had gotten a note…
Dear Harry,
We’re coming to get you. Don’t send Pig back and tell us no, because we’re already on our way. You can’t stop us, and you won’t be able to make us leave without you. So don’t even try. Hermione’s just read this over my shoulder and says that I’m a horribly awful prat of a best friend. Oh well. I may be horrible, awful, and a prat, but I’m your best friend and we’re rescuing you. Get packing.
See you soon,
Ron
Harry chuckled, remembering his shock and indignation at receiving such a letter. They had come, however”all three of them. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny. They showed up on his doorstep, ignoring furious shouts from Uncle Vernon, rude jeers from Dudley, and stubborn splutters from Harry. Both Hermione and Ginny had flung their arms around him, telling him that they were so glad to see him. After Ron had grasped his hand, the three of them stood in a row facing Harry and told him (in no uncertain terms) that he was coming with them and there was nothing he could do about it.
“Harry, don’t you see? We don’t want to hurt you… we want to help you. Oh, God, Harry, you’re a mess.”
Hermione looked away, tears in her eyes. Harry avoided Ron’s gaze and instead found himself looking at Ginny.
“Please, Harry… let us take care of you.”
And take care of him they had. The rest of that day blurred together. He and Ron had packed quickly, talking about nothing in particular. Harry had dragged his trunk down the stairs and faced a somewhat placated Aunt Petunia. (Uncle Vernon had gone into the living room and turned the television up to the maximum volume.) She simply nodded when he told her he was going away and even gave him half a smile. This was significant progress in their relationship and shocked Harry as much as anything. Harry and the others left the house and walked (with an invisible escort) to Mrs. Figg’s house, where they could use Floo Powder.
“One of the few advantages to being a Squib,” she had whispered joyfully. “The Ministry has overlooked my house on the Floo Registering Network. They can’t monitor my fire.”
Much to Harry’s dismay, they were forced to go to Grimmauld Place. His arrival this year, however, was quite different from his arrival the year before. He had wanted to retreat into a silent bedroom, maybe visit Buckbeak for awhile, but his friends had refused.
“You’re not going through this alone,” Hermione had stated simply, with Ron nodding his agreement. “You’ll just blame yourself for something that’s not your fault, and we won’t have it. You deserve to be happy, Harry.”
That night, Harry cried for the first time. He felt ashamed for a minute or so, but then the deluge of emotion overtook him and he was lost. Why, why, why Sirius, why now, it was all his fault, it was all his fault, it didn’t have to end this way, it wasn’t supposed to end this way…
Mrs. Weasley had come to him that night and held him like a mother would. His sobs had wracked his body with surprising force. Gradually, however, they subsided and he remained in her warm, loving embrace. Harry only had one other memory of being held like this and it was with the same person, just after the Triwizard Tournament had ended.
Just after Cedric had died.
And then he was crying again, this time for his parents, his parents, and Cedric, whose death was his fault as well. Harry didn’t know how long he had cried, only that it was too long and that he would never do it again.
Harry had slept for more than a few fitful hours for the first time all summer. He had come down the stairs after lunchtime, silently hoping no one would mention the previous night. No one did. In fact, they barely seemed to notice Harry at all, except when Mrs. Weasley looked up upon Harry’s entrance into Grimmauld Place’s kitchen.
“Oh, good. We could use another set of hands. Here, Harry, dear, address these for me, would you?” Harry looked at his hands. In them was a list of addresses and a bundle of envelopes.
“Er… what’s all this about?”
Ron looked up from the kitchen table, a sour expression on his face. “Bill’s wedding,” he muttered with ill-concealed disgust. “Mum’s been fretting over it for weeks now.”
“Wait a minute, Bill’s”Bill’s wedding?”
“That’s right, chaps,” said Bill, suddenly entering the kitchen. “Now get moving. We’ve only got””
“Eight more days until you’re no longer a bachelor,” chorused the table.
“Right,” said Bill, grinning. “You lot are great to do this for me. I’ve got to run.”
Mrs. Weasley spoke to Bill warningly, with a stirring spoon in her hand. “Don’t you keep Fleur out too late. I want to have a word with her about flowers for the ceremony before the day is over.”
“All right, Mum,” said Bill, but he rolled his eyes at the table. Ginny and Hermione giggled.
Harry stood completely still, gobsmacked by this new information.
“Bill’s getting married? To Fleur? Fleur Delacour?”
“The very same,” said Hermione, with a smirk in Ron’s direction.
“Apparently she was a big fan of her “private English lessons,” Ginny said with a giggle.
Harry had attended the wedding of Bill Weasley and Fleur Delacour at the Burrow just over a week later. It was there that he learned Remus was to become his new guardian. It was there that he learned Ron and Hermione had become a couple.
It was there that he finally understood that everything was going to be all right.
Oh, thoughts of Voldemort and the prophecy still scared him sometimes (not that he ever admitted it). But at Bill’s wedding, surrounded by so much love and joy, Harry was suddenly confused as to why he spent so much of his time in such a bad mood. Being angry was so much more taxing than being happy.
Most luckily, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny held the same opinion. They refused to let Harry be alone for long periods during the day. Ron was always available for a joke; Hermione was always on hand for a nice discussion. Ginny, of course, held her sharp tongue at the ready in case his mood ever dared to slip back into surly and selfish again.
They had changed his life, that summer. He wasn’t sure if he had ever thanked them…
A shrill whistle brought Harry back to the present with a start. The train had stopped moving; students were starting to pass by the compartment door on their way out to the platform. His jolt of surprise was echoed in Ginny, who drew in a quick breath and opened her eyes.
“Are we at King’s Cross?” she mumbled, rubbing at her eyes with an awkward left hand, seeing as her right one was currently entwined with Harry’s. He let go of it, eyeing Ron and Hermione. Their eyes, however, were on one another. They looked to be having a private conversation with only their eyes. Which, Harry considered with a smile, they probably were.
“Yes, we’re at King’s Cross,” he answered. His voice felt rough after not having used it for the past few hours.
“Well, then, let’s go.”
***
“Mum! Bill, Charlie! Fred, George! We’re home!”
Ron’s voice rang throughout the kitchen in the Burrow. Harry stepped inside, watching Ginny run to the window to meet Errol and Mr. Weasley go around to turn on the lights. Harry caught Ron’s eye and, indicating himself and Ginny, shook his head slightly. Ron nodded in understanding.
“Oh, my goodness!”
Mrs. Weasley stood in the doorway to the kitchen with an apron over her dress and a tremendous smile on her face. She lifted her hands in the air, gesturing them all to come inside.
“Oh, goodness, you’re here, you’re all here… you’ve arrived so quickly, I wasn’t expecting you for at least half an hour!” Mrs. Weasley flicked her wand toward the stove and Harry watched as the flame underneath a pot grew low. He swept his eyes over the kitchen of the Burrow and nearly sighed in relief. It was exactly as he had remembered.
The Burrow was very nearly sacred to Harry. It defined home in a way that Privet Drive never could. The absurdly clean, straight, and narrow Privet Drive seemed like a doll’s house when compared to the tumbledown comfort of the Burrow. It didn’t matter that the Burrow was only held up by charms and other magic. To Harry, it was the most wonderful place on Earth (besides Hogwarts, that was).
Grinning, he watched as Mrs. Weasley came forward and hugged each member of their party. Ron’s ears went pink when she whispered something in his ear, so Harry could only assume that she was talking about Hermione. She gave Ron a final kiss on the forehead (she had to go up on her tiptoes to do it) and moved on.
“Oh, Ginny, darling,” murmured Mrs. Weasley, stroking Ginny’s hair while she engulfed her daughter in a hug.
“Hey, Mum,” Ginny said, laughter in her voice.
“Oh, my baby girl… my darling baby girl…”
Harry knew Ginny was sensitive to being called a baby but was glad when she didn’t say anything to potentially muss up her reunion with her mother. Mrs. Weasley gave Ginny a kiss on the forehead like she had for Ron (only she didn’t have to reach nearly so far this time) and moved on to Harry.
“Harry, dear,” she said. Harry allowed her to grasp him close to her and closed his eyes, reveling in the feeling. Her arms tightened around him one final time and she pulled away.
“Right,” said Ron, clapping his hands together. “Dinner.”
Mrs. Weasley smiled. “Just wait a few minutes, Ron, I need to see to something with your father.” Mr. Weasley stood and followed Mrs. Weasley out of the kitchen.
“Honestly, Ron, can’t you think of anything except food?” Harry turned quickly and grinned when he saw Bill, Charlie,
Fred, and George standing in the doorway. All four of them were sweaty, flushed, and filthy. They had probably been playing Quidditch.
“Yes,” said Ron, with an injured look on his face. “And hello to you, too.”
Bill strode forward. “Hello, Ron,” he said, trying to reach up and ruffle Ron’s hair. Ron, however, was nearly taller than Bill now, and jerked away with a “Geroff, Bill.”
“Oh, look,” said Charlie, joining Bill. “Ron’s too old for us to say hello to him the proper way. So sorry,” he said, grinning. “Guess I’ll just have to say hello to my other sibling.” Charlie turned to Ginny and swept her up in a hug. “Hey, Gin-Gin,” he said, and Ginny made a face.
“Don’t call me that, Charlie””
“What’s that you say? What was it? Oh, you love your nicknames? Well why didn’t you just say so, I’ve got plenty more””
“So do we,” chorused the twins together.
“Ginger””
“Ginger muffin””
“Ginger pie””
“Ginnysweet””
“Stop! Cut it out!” Ginny protested, attempting to shove Charlie away. Bill took his place and whirled Ginny off the ground, placing her over his shoulder and parading around the kitchen. Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron stood behind Bill, shooting nicknames at Ginny. Unsure of what to do, Harry hung back and watched as Ginny’s face grew redder and redder.
“Ginner””
“Put me down, Bill””
“Firehead””
“Stop it””
“Sweet tea””
“Oh, honestly, Fred””
“Sweet pea””
“George, no one calls me that””
“Punkin””
“Oh, shut it, Ron””
“Sweet thing””
“Put me down! ””
“My darling baby girl”” said George in ridiculous falsetto, mimicking Mrs. Weasley. Ginny’s brothers collapsed into laughter, Bill included, and Ginny seized her opportunity. She wrenched herself off Bill’s back, twisting his arm in the process.
“Ow, Ginny””
“I” told” you ” to” put” me” down,” said Ginny, pausing with each word to punch one of her brothers on the shoulder. Bill ended up with three punches for what Harry could only assume was good measure.
“Geez, Ginny””
“All right, we’ll stop””
“We’ll stop””
“Good,” said Ginny simply. She began to leave the kitchen but paused and threw a look over her shoulder. “Oh, and I’ll need someone to bring my trunk up the stairs.” With those words and a smirk, Ginny disappeared.
“Good Lord,” said Charlie when Ginny had finally left. “She’s strong.”
“At least you’re not in school with her,” said Ron darkly. “You’re only subjected to her abuse during hols. I have it all year round.”
“Oh, stop whinging, Ron,” said Charlie, coming forward to shake Harry’s hand. “Harry, how do you do? Sorry about the whole Ginny thing.”
Harry shook Charlie’s hand and said “Don’t worry about it. It was funny.”
Bill was next, then the twins. “Harry,” said George enticingly, “come up to our room later on. We’ve got something new we’re working on””
“Prototype,” whispered Fred.
“” and we want our top financial investor to see it first hand.”
“All right,” said Harry with a grin.
Fred and George broke into identical evil grins that he had seen more than a few times at Hogwarts and Harry laughed. “What is it?”
“Well…” George turned to Fred, considering. “I suppose there’s nothing wrong with telling him now.”
“Yeah,” said Fred. “I had wanted to tell Bill and Charlie about it, too.”
“Tell me about what?” asked Charlie, who had been punching Ron affectionately on the shoulder while Ron flushed.
“Our latest invention,” said George with an even wider grin.
“Another one?”
“Oh, yes, and this one will have quite a large selling audience.”
“You mean other than every other student at Hogwarts?” said Bill with raised eyebrows. Charlie and Ron laughed.
“Yes.” Fred rubbed his hands together and faced his brothers with obvious glee. “Every single brother and father will have to want this at some point in their sister’s or daughter’s life.”
“What are you talking about?” asked Harry.
“A boyfriend repellant,” said George in a quiet voice.
“A boyfriend repellant?”
“A boyfriend repellant.”
“Excellent,” said the three brothers together. Harry didn’t speak. He was too busy pondering possibilities of where this conversation could lead and not liking any of them.
Don’t ask, don’t tell, Potter. Keep your mouth shut.
“Tell us about it,” said Ron in an excited whisper, glancing towards the stairs in case Ginny suddenly appeared.
“Well, we really can’t talk about it much””
“Just that it involves smell””
“And taste””
“And a lot of murtlap essence.”
“Murtlap essence?”
Fred shrugged. “It did the trick.”
“Well, good,” said Bill with finality. “All we need to do no is give that to every boy at Hogwarts and we’ll be set.”
At these words, a prickling feeling started to creep into Harry’s arms and chest. He shot a glance at Ron, but Ron was still looking excitedly at Fred and George.
“That’s where Ron comes in,” said George. “Who is it that Ginny’s dating now?”
Harry’s eyes grew very wide and his heart started pounding.
Come on, Ron, don’t say anything… please don’t tell them…
“A bloke in our year,” said Ron, with his eyes on Harry. Harry let out a huge breath of relief.
“Well, all you have to do is slip some in his morning pumpkin juice, and he’ll instantly become extremely unattractive to Ginny.”
“Isn’t that a bit… unfair?” Harry asked quietly. When all four brothers turned to face him with indignant looks on their faces, his courage bucked up a little. “It is unfair. Ginny didn’t mess around with your love lives, why should you mess around in hers?”
“We’re not messing around””
“We’re protecting her.”
“Teenage boys are creeps.”
“And none of them are good enough for our Gin-Gin.”
“Don’t you think you’d better let Ginny decide that?” asked Harry, ignoring Ron’s warning glance. He was starting to get angry. He might not be good enough for Ginny (who could be?), but he certainly wasn’t a creep.
A strange look crossed over Bill’s face. “Harry… you don’t… like her… do you?”
Harry spluttered…
So much for keeping it a secret.
… but was saved by Mrs. Weasley, who came barreling into the kitchen just as each of Ginny’s brothers turned to face him. She stood in the middle of the room, her hands on her hips.
“Boys!”
Each of them jumped, even Harry, who had witnessed her entrance.
“What do you think you are doing? We have supper to prepare, dishes to cook, things to do, and you’re sitting around doing nothing? Have you even washed?”
The boys scrambled to their feet, even Bill and Charlie, who were grown men.
“Sorry, Mum.”
“Sorry, Mrs. Weasley.”
“Do you need help?”
“What can we do?”
Eyes sparkling, Mrs. Weasley addressed each of them. “Bill, Charlie, silverware. George, plates. Fred, glasses. Ron, napkins.” The Weasleys all sprang into action. “And for heavens sake!” burst Mrs. Weasley, “wash your hands!”
“Yes, Mum,” the five of them said together.
“And that leaves the cooking to me,” said Mrs. Weasley to herself. She turned to go to the stove. Harry found himself standing in the middle of a whirlwind of activity with no assignment.
“Er… Mrs. Weasley?”
She faced him with a kind smile, one hand stirring soup and the other grabbing for the faucet. “Yes, Harry, dear?”
“What can I do?” asked Harry, reaching over Mrs. Weasley’s groping hand and turning on the tap for her.
“Oh, you don’t have to help with anything””
“But I want to.”
She considered him for a moment, then smiled. “Well… I suppose if you’re dying for something to do…”
Say that Ginny needs her trunk. Say “Take Ginny’s trunk up the stairs.”
“Ginny does need her trunk in her bedroom, but I supposed one of the boys could just levitate it””
“Oh, no, Mrs. Weasley, I’ll do it. They’re busy,” said Harry quickly, fighting back a huge smile. A warm feeling very much like the one he had felt on the train was starting to envelop him again.
“All right, dear. Ginny’s room is on the first floor, second door on the left.”
“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” said Harry, leaving the kitchen with a huge grin on his face. Ginny’s trunk sat just outside the door, and Harry managed to heave it inside.
Sweet Merlin, what is she carrying in here? Bricks?
Harry was very glad that he just had to go up one flight of stairs, because he wasn’t sure if he could have carried Ginny’s trunk much longer. He came to a halt outside Ginny’s room and paused before knocking, mostly to catch his breath. A small sign told him that this was indeed the door to “Ginevra’s Room.”
Harry knocked. “Ginny? You there?”
“Harry?” Her voice was muffled.
“Yeah,” he answered back, his hand on the doorknob. “Can I come in””
“Stop!” she cried. Harry heard frantic shuffling behind the door.
“Ginny,” he said, starting to worry, “are you all right?”
“Yes, yes, I’m fine, I’m just… changing my clothes.”
Impossible images, fantastic images, images that Harry only thought about very late at night, suddenly raced through his head without warning. “Oh,” he said in a somewhat strangled voice, trying very hard to think of anything but Ginny’s unclothed figure on the other side of the door.
Quidditch. Bludgers. Snitches. Madam Hooch. Professor Sprout.
“Yeah,” said Ginny uncomfortably.
Professor McGonagall. Dumbledore.
“Well, I’ve got your trunk””
Snape.
Harry wrinkled his nose in disgust. He was sufficiently distracted now. “I’ve got your trunk out here for you. I’ll just… leave it, shall I?”
“All right.”
“Well… see you.”
Harry took off down the stairs, trying and failing not to dwell on Ginny’s image in his brain.
***
A/N: Bit of an anticlimactic ending, I know. My apologies.
Two quick notes:
My English friend informed me that what we call the first floor in America is called the ground floor in England. So when Mrs. Weasley says Ginny's room is on the first floor, she really means the second floor. Or something like that. :)
The nickname "Ginnysweet" comes from Alchemilla's The Test of Time. Go read it. It's at the Sugarquill.
***
It's Like Magic! by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Thirteen: It's Like Magic!
***
A/N: My author’s notes below have MAJOR spoilers for HBP, so if you haven’t finished it, I suggest you either skip them or GO READ IT!! Seriously.
So, hello again. I know, I know… I haven’t updated in forever. Believe me, I hear your pleas. I could offer you excuses (like the fact that I'm juggling a mandatory summer school class, a full-time internship, and a part-time job), but I won't. Let's just say that I barely have time to sleep, let alone write.
But, as any faithful HP fan should have done, I made time for HPHBP.
Oh. Em. Gee. I adored it. And if you read it (which you really should have done by now), you’ve read about the romance between Ginny and Harry. A few of you have emailed me, saying how my fic was 'spot on' and that I'm even 'psychic.' Thank you. I must say that I honestly thought H/G wasn’t going to happen until book 7. I was almost positive that R/Hr was going to be the major romance of book 6. But it wasn’t, and every time I read of an H/G encounter I was smiling like mad.
But Harry’s decision at the end puts this fic in a serious quandary. What to do? Should I continue? Or should it rest in peace with Harry and Ginny happily in love, and I can finally start on something new?
So, readers... you tell me what to do. After all, you’re the ones I listen to the most.
***
Dinner that night was a very enjoyable affair. Both to Harry’s relief and disappointment, he and Ginny were at opposite ends of the table. He was disappointed because they hadn’t spoken to each other since that awkward moment outside her bedroom; however, he was relieved that they weren’t near because Bill kept shooting him suspicious glances over the roast beef. Harry had the distinct impression that Bill was trying to keep Ginny away from Harry, due to the fact that Bill had situated himself next to Ginny and kept her busy with questions all throughout dinner. Harry could only catch snippets of their conversation, but seeing as Ginny was saying things like “Snape is still horrible,” or “My Silencing Charm has improved loads,” it was quite obvious that Bill was just trying to keep her preoccupied. Every once in awhile, Ginny would catch Harry’s eye for the briefest second before looking back to Bill. These glances, however brief they were, led to an upturn in Harry’s mood. He and Ron resumed their conversation about the Chudley Cannons and were quickly joined by Charlie, Fred, and George. They were just debating the finer points of Joey Jenkins’ beating in a match against the Ballycastle Bats when Mrs. Weasley interrupted.
“It’s very late,” she said sternly, but Harry could see a twinkle in her eye. “You lot need to clear off and go to bed. We’ve a big day tomorrow.”
“Oh, come on, Mum,” George protested. “What’re we doing tomorrow that’s so imp””
But he was cut off by simultaneous yawns from Ron and Fred. Everyone burst out laughing.
“You’d better listen to your mother, George,” said Mr. Weasley, taking off his glasses to clean them on his shirt. “Go on, head up to bed.”
Grudgingly, the Weasley boys left the table. Harry, avoiding Bill’s eyes, made his way to the bottom of the staircase. There he paused, wanting to say goodnight to Ginny but not wanting to risk it in front of her brothers. Looking to his left, he saw a framed picture on the wall of each of the Weasley children when they were much younger. Ron looked to be about five, and he was holding an extremely squirmy Ginny in his lap. Even at such young ages, the seven heads of red hair shone vividly.
“I always loved that picture.”
Her voice directly behind his left ear made Harry jump a mile; he hadn’t heard her coming.
And you’re supposed to save the wizarding world? Tragic.
“I was four,” she continued, not noticing his surprise. “And all I wanted to do was get out.”
They watched together as the Ginny in the picture turned and pinched Ron on the ear. Howling (or at least he looked like he was howling) in pain, Ron let go of Ginny, who clambered off his leg and scampered to the outside frame. She had almost made it outside the edges of the photo when Charlie reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her back in.
Harry thought, choosing his words carefully. “They certainly are very protective of you,” he said slowly, risking the chance to look at her and raise his eyebrows significantly. Ginny gave a little sigh.
“Yes, I know,” she said. “But that doesn’t mean they get to run my life.”
“Who says we don’t?” said Charlie, coming up behind Ginny and ruffling her hair. “Firehead.” He smirked.
“Oh, be quiet, Charlie,” said Ginny exasperatedly. “I’m going to bed.”
“Me, too,” said Harry quickly, not wanting to be alone with Ginny’s second-oldest brother. What if Bill had relayed his suspicions to Charlie?
“Same,” said Charlie. “Come on.”
The three of them climbed the stairs together. Harry had to work to keep his immense discomfort hidden. He had wanted to say goodnight to Ginny privately, but it didn’t look as if he was going to get the chance. When they reached Ginny’s door, Charlie turned and tugged Ginny into what looked like a bone-breaking hug. He leaned back and her feet left the ground.
“Night, Ginner Pinner.”
Giggling, Ginny replied “Good night, Charlie.”
Charlie set Ginny’s feet back down and then climbed the stairs to his own bedroom he shared with Bill. Harry’s eyes slid from one end of the hall to the other; they were alone, but for how long, he couldn’t say.
So make it quick then.
His eyes landed on Ginny. She was staring at him from underneath her long eyelashes, biting her lip. Quickly, Harry darted forward and kissed her cheek.
“Night, Gin,” he said quietly. She grinned.
“Good night, Harry.” Her eyes looked up and down the hall as well. Without a sound, she closed her eyes and gently pressed her lips to his. Harry shut his own eyes and enjoyed it for just a second before she pulled away and entered her bedroom, closing the door quietly.
“Harry?”
Ron’s voice came from the top of the stairs. “You coming?”
Harry started. He drew himself together, took his eyes away from Ginny’s door, and headed up the steps. “Yeah, I’m coming,” he answered.
Harry passed Percy’s dark room on his way up to Ron’s. A scowl crossed his face. He had adopted a sort of “Don’t ask” attitude concerning the third eldest Weasley. Unfortunately, it was clear that no real change had taken place. Percy’s room was dark and empty. The sign, which read “Percival’s Room,” still hung outside, however. Harry shook his head and entered Ron’s room.
Ron had already changed into his pyjamas. “Finally,” he said, throwing Harry a pillow from his bed. “What took you so long?”
A blush overtook Harry’s cheeks before he could even gather up defenses against it. Ron nodded.
“Ah,” he said. There was an uncomfortable silence.
“So, have you… gotten all your Christmas presents yet?” Harry asked, casting around for a change of topic.
“Almost,” said Ron. “Well… everyone except Hermione. I just don’t know what to get her.”
As the words came out of Ron’s mouth, a realization hit Harry like a ton of bricks.
He was Ginny’s… boyfriend. A secret boyfriend, but a boyfriend nonetheless. And that meant…
“I have to get Ginny a present,” he said in a quiet, shocked sort of voice. He had already done his Christmas shopping at a Hogsmeade weekend in early December… but he hadn’t been with Ginny then.
He and Ron looked at each other, then, strangely enough, both started to chuckle.
“We’re in a right state,” said Ron. “Two girls, no presents.”
“Yeah,” said Harry. “What’re we supposed to do?”
“Well….” Ron bit his lip and stood up, walking over to Pig’s cage. “I suppose….”
“What?” asked Harry. A sense of slight panic was now settling in on him. What was he going to get Ginny?
“I suppose we could go down to the village tomorrow. Ottery St. Catchpole, remember? It’s a Muggle town, but there’s a few shops that’re run by wizards.”
Harry had never been to Ottery St. Catchpole before. “That sounds good,” he said. “I’m sure we’ll be able to find something there.”
“Let’s hope.”
He and Ron looked at each other and burst out laughing again. Ron coerced Pig into his cage while Harry pulled on his pyjamas. He then extinguished the light and Harry fell asleep.
***
Harry awoke the next morning to the sound of Ron’s loud snores. Quickly, he sat up, fumbling for his glasses. Ron’s snores he was used to”his surroundings, however, weren’t so familiar. It took him a moment to realize where he was. He then took a deep breath, placed his glasses on the bridge of his nose, and swung his feet off the bed.
No one else was up yet (or at least, he couldn’t hear anyone), so Harry made his way to the loo. After a quick shower and an admonishing scold from the mirror (“Comb your hair!”), Harry went to Ron’s room.
Ron was lying on his bed with his eyes closed, but he wasn’t snoring anymore.
“Harry,” he croaked as Harry shut the door. “Why’re you up so early? ‘S the hols, n’all.”
Harry grinned”Ron’s words always ran together when he was tired.
“It’s not that early, mate,” he replied. “And good morning to you, too. Keep your eyes shut for a moment, I’m changing.”
Ron did better than keeping his eyes shut”he rolled over so his face was flat against the bed and covered his head in a pillow. Harry dressed quickly.
“All right,” he said in a slightly raised voice, so Ron could hear underneath the pillow. A loud snore was Ron’s response. Harry laughed and decided not to wake him”Mrs. Weasley would in a minute.
Sure enough, two minutes later, Mrs. Weasley’s voice rang up the stairs.
“Breakfast! Boys, Ginny! Hurry along, now!”
Beneath him, Harry could hear doors opening and slamming. The sounds of pounding footsteps then followed. He went over to Ron’s bed and shook his shoulder.
“C’mon, Ron, it’s breakfast.”
Ron groaned, moved the pillow off his head, and stood up. After glaring at Harry for a moment, he made his way out of his room.
Harry found that he and Mrs. Weasley were the only fully-dressed people at the table. Mr. Weasley wasn’t present, and Bill and Charlie were shirtless”Bill’s hair was down around his shoulders instead of up in its usual ponytail. Charlie’s muscular chest showed more than one burn. Both had quite a few freckles scattered along their torsos.
Wonder if Ginny’s the same.
Harry bit down hard on the inside of his lip to keep from blushing and reached for a piece of sausage. He was immensely glad that none of the Weasley brothers could read minds. Fred and George ambled down the stairs and sat down. Both were bleary-eyed and looked as though they had stayed up half the night.
So that leaves…
Ginny finally appeared at the bottom of the stairs, her hair tousled and her eyes only half open. Harry fought the urge to jump up and help her into her chair.
“Morning,” she mumbled. She slid into the chair opposite Harry.
Even when she doesn’t try to be gorgeous, she’s gorgeous.
Ginny poured herself a glass of pumpkin juice and wrapped both hands around it, sipping it quietly. When her hair fell in front of her face, she tucked it behind her ear.
“Ginny, here, you can’t have just pumpkin juice. Eat something, please.”
“All right, Mum.”
Ginny obeyed her mother and leaned forward, reaching for a plate. Her nightgown fell forward as she did so, creating a gap between it and her chest.
Despite every hormone in his body screaming at him that it was perfectly all right if he kept on looking, Harry ripped his eyes away and focused on his own pumpkin juice. He could feel Bill’s eyes on him and stared determinedly down, swirling the orange liquid in his glass.
“Mum, Harry and I are going to go into town today,” Harry heard Ron announce from his left side. “We’ve still got to get some Christmas presents””
“Left it a little late, haven’t you, Ron?” asked Fred, chuckling. “Whose present are you buying?”
“No one’s,” mumbled Ron. Harry noticed his ears were flaming. So, apparently, did George.
“Oh, ho, bet it’s for Hermione,” he said, pouting his lips and making a kissy face at Ron. Then, in high falsetto, he added “Oh, Ronnie, you didn’t have to get anything for me…”
“Shut up.” But Ron’s mumble this time was definitely less audible than the last, and Fred and George continued. Bill and Charlie watched, obviously amused, as a simpering George swooned while Fred proclaimed undying love in a ridiculously low voice.
Couldn’t use the distraction to your advantage, could you, Potter?
Harry shifted just slightly in his chair and turned his eyes to Ginny’s face. She was already watching him.
Women. How do they do it?
Harry smiled; four feet away, so did Ginny. He felt a nudge on his foot under the table and grinned even more broadly when Ginny quirked an eyebrow. He nudged back with his own foot. Cheeks flushing, Ginny looked down and bit her lip. A few seconds later, she looked back up again. Her eyes were sparkling.
“Oh, look, the mail’s here!” Mrs. Weasley cried, and Harry jerked out of his reverie. Errol, the Weasley family owl, was currently ambling toward the very closed window.
“Quick, Charlie, quick! Open it before he””
Charlie raced to the window and wrenched it open. Errol came soaring inside, along with a gust of cold winter wind that whipped through Harry’s hair, making him shiver. Unsurprisingly, Errol didn’t manage to stay straight once he landed. Instead of holding out his leg to deliver the post like Hedwig usually did, he keeled over into a dish of butter.
Suddenly, a very vivid memory came into Harry’s mind, also dealing with a butter dish. It had been his first summer at the Burrow... he had just turned twelve… he was eating breakfast with Ron, Percy, and the twins… and Ginny…
Put her elbow in the butter dish.
Harry smiled to himself and looked at Ginny once more. She was eyeing the butter dish in clear distaste. Harry cleared his throat and her eyes went to his. Silently, he asked his question… did she remember?
With a scowl, she silently answered back that yes, she remembered. A thrill of excitement rushed through Harry… they could understand each other, even without speaking. He felt the sudden urge to kiss Ginny. And, given the blazing look that she was giving him now, Ginny probably felt the same way. Harry was just contemplating how best to get Ginny alone for just a few minutes when Mrs. Weasley let out a shriek.
Fred and George dropped their Ron and Hermione act immediately.
“What is it, Mum?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Has someone been hurt?”
“Is everything okay?”
Every head at the table was turned to look at Mrs. Weasley. Mrs. Weasley, however, was staring at Harry. He felt his brow knit together and asked “Is something wrong, Mrs. Weasley?”
Her mouth opened like she was going to say something, but after a second she closed it and shook her head. She lifted her right hand, in which she had a magazine clasped, and shook it slightly. She then dropped the magazine on the table.
Everyone leaned forward to read it at once. Almost immediately, Harry wished he hadn’t. The glossy cover to Witch Weekly almost made him sick.
A large, moving photograph of himself and Ginny graced the cover. They were both on brooms, looking windswept and exhilarated, decked out in their Gryffindor Quidditch robes. Harry noticed the small print underneath the picture: Photo courtesy of Colin Creevey.
A sudden wave of homicidal fury swept over him, and Harry had to bite his tongue to keep from letting out a growl. He needn’t have held back, however, because five growls echoed from behind him. With a cold sense of dread replacing the anger in his stomach, Harry turned his eyes to the headline.
Has Harry Potter found love at last? Exclusive story!
And, underneath the headline, he saw tiny print that made him even angrier than Colin’s photo credit: Story by Rita Skeeter.
Horrified, Harry did the only thing he could think of: he looked at Ginny. Her wide eyes asked him a silent question”What are we going to do? He shook his head a little, then realized that the prickly feeling he had on the back of his neck wasn’t because of his dread over the article… it was because all of Ginny’s brothers were currently staring at him . Without thinking, he turned his head and looked at them.
Wrong move, Potter.
Fred and George had each made to reach for the magazine. Charlie, however, stood over them and grabbed it, rifling through until he reached the article.
“Has Harry Potter found love with Ginevra Weasley?” he read aloud. “A special report by Rita Skeeter. ‘Harry Potter, who is currently in his sixth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has found a sense of comfort in his current girlfriend, fellow Gryffindor Ginevra Weasley, a fifth year.’ ”
“What the hell is that?” Fred shouted. George and Bill opened their mouths angrily as well, but Harry noticed (and was deeply grateful) that Ron had kept his mouth shut.
“What is this rubbish?”
“It’s not true, is it?” Bill’s question rang throughout the kitchen, and the rest of the brothers sat silent. They all wanted an answer… an answer that Harry couldn’t give. He opened his mouth and stammered”
“I…. well, er…”
“Of course it’s not true.” Mrs. Weasley’s brisk voice came from Harry’s right. She was standing over them all and quickly snatched the magazine away from Charlie. “Honestly, boys, after everything she’s written… about you, Bill, and about your father, and Dumbledore, and Harry…” She paused for a moment, then continued. “You think anything this woman writes is credible?”
“She did that article with Harry last year,” said Bill. “And that was the truth.”
“That’s because Harry gave an interview with her,” Ginny cut in sharply, warning Harry with her eyes not to speak. “She reported what he said, not what some quill fabricated.”
“But still””
“Oh, honestly, Bill,” interrupted Mrs. Weasley. “This Creevey fellow” Ginny, isn’t he in your year?” this Creevey fellow probably sent some of his pictures into the magazine hoping to get published, and Rita Skeeter saw an opportunity to make up a story.”
Putting what he hoped to be an irritated yet puzzled expression on his face, Harry looked at Mrs. Weasley. “What does it say?”
She looked down and opened the magazine to the page Charlie had been reading. As her eyes scanned the story, her eyebrows knitted together. A minute later, she finished reading and threw the magazine onto the table with a grunt of disgust.
“Rubbish. Absolute rubbish. She even quotes Draco Malfoy,” Mrs. Weasley said scathingly.
Guess he’s not as much of a liar as you thought.
A sickening feeling passed through Harry’s stomach. “She quoted Malfoy?” He shot a look at Ron, whose eyebrows were so high they blended in with his hair.
“That sodding git!” Fred exclaimed. “He’s always hated you, Harry.”
“I don’t want this chuff on my table,” said Mrs. Weasley, in a tone that said quite plainly that the matter was not going to be discussed any longer. She took out her wand and flicked it at the magazine, which flew into the rubbish bin, its pages flapping.
***
All in all, Harry was very glad to escape the Burrow with Ron. They set off at a brisk walk, Ron fumbling with the zipper of the Muggle jacket the Weasleys kept in a cupboard for whenever they went to town. Harry threw his head back and took a deep breath, burning his nose with the cold air but not caring all too much.
“Some morning, huh?” said Ron. Harry closed his eyes but didn’t answer.
“You can ignore it all you want,” Ron continued, “but you can bet that they won’t.”
“And why’s that?” asked Harry irritably. Ron held up his hands in defense.
“Don’t get angry. I’m just telling you that Bill and Charlie will be a lot harder to convince that you and Ginny… that you aren’t…” Ron trailed off, and they continued to walk in silence.
Harry knew perfectly well that Bill was still giving him suspicious looks whenever he walked into a room. Charlie was starting to as well. Harry wished that he could just talk with Ginny, alone, for five minutes so they could sort everything out. He wasn’t even sure anymore about why they had decided not to tell her brothers.
It was your decision, Potter, remember?
Harry scowled. The decision had been a lot easier to make inside Hogwarts, with its dark corridors and hidden passageways and unused classrooms. It had also been a lot easier to make a quick decision with Ginny standing four inches in front of him, her hand playing with the end of his tie. Now, in the broad daylight and tumbledown comfort of the Burrow, Harry was hard pressed to think of a reason why they couldn’t tell Ginny’s family.
“We’re getting close to the village,” said Ron ten minutes later. Harry shot him a grin, thankful that Ron didn’t press the subject of the Witch Weekly article.
“Decided what you’re going to get Hermione yet?”
“No. Decided what you’re going to get Ginny yet?”
“No.”
Harry and Ron looked at each other and burst out laughing.
“We’re pathetic,” said Ron, shifting his jacket to settle better across his shoulders. Harry nodded in agreement.
No sooner then had he nodded they entered the village. It was a quaint little place, slightly cramped like Diagon Alley, but not nearly as interesting. Dirty snow edged the sides of the streets and made patchwork designs on the roofs of the buildings. Ordinary Muggle shops lined the street”a butcher, a baker, a pharmacist.
“Er… Ron…” Harry started as they continued down the street. “Didn’t you say that there were shops for wizards””
Ron interrupted by shushing him. “It’s just around the corner here.”
Ron turned down a particularly dirty-looking alley, whose buildings had cracked and dingy windows. “In here,” he said, pointing to a door. The sign above it read It’s Like Magic!
The store was tiny and cramped. It looked as though the owner had tried to fit all of Diagon Alley into one place. Cauldrons were piled at Harry’s feet as soon as he walked in, and stacks of ink and parchment were right behind them. There wasn’t a single inch of unused space”telescopes, scales, potions ingredients, Honeydukes candy, Zonko’s jokes, bags of Floo powder, and books of all shapes and sizes lined the packed shelves on the walls.
“Can’t the Muggles see all this?” Harry asked, amazed, as he looked up to the ceiling and saw a display of hanging lunascopes.
“’Course not,” said Ron, picking up a box of Chocolate Frogs. “It’s charmed, like The Leaky Cauldron.” He considered the chocolate. “Think Hermione’d like these?”
“Think you’re going to have to get a little more than candy this year,” said Harry, grinning. “And no perfume!” he called to Ron as he made his way to the back of the shop. Ron made a rude gesture and Harry laughed.
As Harry passed rows of magical alarm clocks, his mind focused on the task at hand. What was he supposed to get Ginny? It had to mean something. It had to show her how important she was to him. And it couldn’t be expensive, because she wouldn’t take it if it was.
Damn. Why do girls always have to be so complicated?
“Harry?”
Harry whirled around, defenses going up immediately. Then, as he saw who had called out his name, his defenses were quickly replaced by confusion.
Luna Lovegood stood next to the display of alarm clocks, eyes as protuberant as ever, with tiny little carrots hanging from her ears. A man stood beside her with equally protuberant eyes, very wispy grey hair, and a Galleon hanging from a chain on his neck. Was it…
Her father? Shite, Potter, you really are dull.
“Er, hello, Luna,” Harry said. “What… what are you doing here?”
“I live here,” she said dreamily, picking up an alarm clock and examining it while the man stared at Harry. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m… staying with the Weasleys,” Harry said slowly as he watched Luna turn the alarm clock over with apparent fascination. “Did you say you… you both live here?”
“Yes,” said Luna, putting the alarm clock down and looking at him. “Just over the hill, on the west side. Daddy and I have lived there for ages.”
“Oh,” said Harry, mostly because it seemed necessary that he speak and he couldn’t really think of anything else to say. He wondered whether or not Ron knew that Luna Lovegood lived less than ten miles away from him.
“This is my father, of course,” Luna said, indicating the man standing beside her. Harry expected to shake his hand, but the man didn’t budge.
“I’m Harry Potter, sir.” Harry waited, but continued when the man didn’t offer his own introduction. “It’s nice to meet you.”
“Luna’s told me all about you, of course,” said the man. “I’m Basil Lovegood.”
Harry suddenly remembered that Mr. Lovegood was the editor of The Quibbler. “Sir, I’d like to thank you for running that article last year.”
Mr. Lovegood seemed surprised that Harry mentioned the article, but smiled anyway. “You’re very welcome. Did Luna tell you we had to reprint? It’s amazing. I’ve never sold more papers. You’d think that people would be more interesting in things like the Rotfang Conspiracy””
“Shh, Daddy!” said Luna quickly. “We’re not supposed to say anything about that, remember?”
“Oh, yes,” said Mr. Lovegood, somewhat sheepishly. “I forgot.”
“You can leave now,” said Luna in a friendly voice. “I need to buy your Christmas present.”
“All right.” Mr. Lovegood disappeared behind a tottering stack of teacups without so much as a goodbye.
“It was nice meeting you, sir,” Harry called out, but he didn’t get a response. He stood awkwardly for a few seconds as Luna bent to inspect a row of hair potions. Then, just as he opened his mouth, Luna spoke.
“So how is Ginny?”
“Fine,” said Harry, not caring to elaborate.
“I heard you were together,” said Luna, straightening to look at him. “Congratulations.”
Congratulations?
The same kind of sick feeling swept through his stomach as Luna continued to gaze at him. Harry felt his heart beat faster. Had they been that completely obvious at school?
“What… what do you mean?” he said, avoiding Luna’s stare. It was rather disconcerting if he looked at her for too long.
“I saw a copy of Witch Weekly on Daddy’s desk this morning and I read the article.” Luna turned back to the hair potions shelf.
Harry let this statement register completely before he said “Er… Luna?” She continued picking her way through the bottles of hair care, and Harry continued as if she had acknowledged him. “Why does your father have a copy of Witch Weekly?”
Luna straightened again. “Well, he has to keep up with rival publications, doesn’t he?”
Harry didn’t answer. He didn’t think it was the kind of question that required a response.
“Besides,” she continued, “I figured you two were finally going out.”
“And why’s that?” asked Harry.
“Ginny’s been very happy lately,” said Luna simply. “And you have too. And you’re blushing, which I can only assume means that I’m telling the truth. But don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone.”
Not that anyone would believe her if she did.
“Thanks,” said Harry, still a little wary.
“That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?” asked Luna. “To shop for Ginny, I mean.”
“Yeah.” Harry thought for a second. Maybe Luna could help him figure out what to buy for Ginny. She was a girl, after all, but more importantly, she was Ginny’s friend.
“Look, Luna””
“Don’t worry, I’ll help you,” she said, finally choosing a bottle. “Do you think I’d look good with blue hair?”
“Sure,” said Harry, too happy that he finally had help to find Ginny a present to register just what Luna had asked him.
“Great,” she said. “Well, let’s go.”
***
An hour later, Harry and a very amused Ron were walking back to the Burrow. Harry found that he had a new appreciation for Luna Lovegood that he hadn’t had before. He clutched the package in his jacket pocket and grinned… Ginny was sure to love this.
“I can’t believe her father gets Witch Weekly,” Ron chortled for the fourth time since they had left the shop. Harry had told him of his meeting with Luna while they had purchased their presents. “I mean, of all the magazines…”
“She said that he has to keep up with rival publications,” said Harry.
“But still,” said Ron, almost losing grip of his package as he started laughing again, “Witch Weekly? Come on, Harry, he doesn’t have to subscribe to every magazine…”
“Don’t drop your book,” Harry warned as Ron fumbled it, his laughter making his grip weak.
“Shut up,” said Ron, attempting to scowl but not doing a very good job. “Besides, it’s not a book.”
“Looked like one to me,” Harry said, eyeing the bag again.
“It’s a journal,” said Ron defensively, pulling it closer to his chest as if to protect it from the cold. “I figured it’d be a good place for her to write down all those words that are always spurting out of her mouth.”
Harry raised his eyebrows. “Tell it to her like that, mate, and you’re going to have a very lonely winter.”
“I wouldn’t say it like that,” Ron corrected hastily. “I’ll make it… you know. Nice, and stuff.”
“Sure. Nice, and stuff. You do that.” Harry quickly ducked, avoiding a swing from Ron’s unoccupied hand.
“Shut up,” Ron said again, pulling the journal closer to him. “At least I didn’t have to get Loony Lovegood to help me find my girlfriend’s Christmas present.”
“Don’t call her ‘Loony,’” Harry said. “She’s not. She’s really smart, actually.”
“So what’d you get Ginny?” Ron shot quickly. He had tried to get Harry to tell what Ginny’s present was ever since he had purchased it in It’s Like Magic!
“None of your business,” said Harry, instinctively clutching the package inside his jacket pocket.
“Oh, really?”
“Yeah, really.”
Ron considered Harry for a moment, then turned his face forward. “All right, then.”
Twenty minutes later, they were at the Burrow. A crowd had gathered inside the kitchen, talking and laughing loudly.
“Oh, good, boys, you’re home,” said Mrs. Weasley, bustling past them with a bowl of potatoes. “Help me with the salad, Ron, will you?”
“Can’t you make George do it, Mum?” Ron whinged. “I’ve got to take this upstairs.”
“Fine, fine… George, could you take the salad, please?”
George stood up and reached to cuff Ron round the head, but Ron was too tall for him. “Oh, you just wait, little brother!” George called after Ron as Ron pounded up the stairs. “One night, in your sleep, I’ll get you.”
“I’m shaking in my boots!” Ron yelled down the stairs, and George made a furious motion. Harry grinned.
“Hello, Harry.”
Ginny’s voice came from directly behind his left ear, just like it had done before. Quickly, Harry whirled around, nearly knocking a bowl of potatoes off the loaded table in the process. Ginny stood in the doorway, surveying him with polite interest, though her mouth twitched. She strode over and embraced him briefly.
“How are you?”
His voice nearly caught in his throat, but he managed to croak out “Fine. I’m fine.”
She gave his arm a squeeze when she pulled away and tingles shot up his spine. “Good,” she said softly.
Nervously, Harry looked around to see if anyone was watching them. No one was-- Mrs. Weasley and Fleur were fussing over Bill, Mr. Weasley and Fred were laughing about something with Charlie, and George was handling the huge bowl of salad. Harry turned to Ginny to see if she was thinking the same thing he was.
She grinned and leaned close to his ear. “Meet me in my room in five minutes,” she whispered, then bounded out of sight.
***
Ginny’s room was quite interesting, Harry thought. He didn’t know exactly what he had expected, but he was glad to find that Ginny’s room seemed to match her well. The walls were a pale green that reminded him of spring and her coverlet was green and purple.
“This was Mum’s before she got married,” Ginny had whispered to him ten minutes before, tugging at it rather nervously. She kept shooting him anxious looks, biting her lip. She had reminded him of Ron when he had first shown Harry the Burrow... they had both awaited his opinion, not hiding the fact that they would be crushed if he, Harry, didn’t like it.
“I love it,” Harry had whispered, reaching out for Ginny and smiling when she stepped into the circle of his arms. They had kissed gently there, until Ginny whispered in his ear that her brothers didn’t always have the best manners concerning knocking on doors and maybe they should go to her closet.
Ginny’s closet was even more interesting than her room, mostly because it gave him more to look at than her bed and gave him more to think about than just what it would be like to be with Ginny on that bed. Harry had pushed it out of his mind just as Ginny had pushed him inside and shut the door.
He had finally been able to kiss her, really kiss her, deeply and soundly, for as long as he wanted for the first time in weeks when they heard...
“Ginny? Ginny!”
Molly Weasley’s voice boomed throughout the entire Burrow. Harry was amazed that he could still hear it. Her voice had carried from the kitchen to the stairs, up to the landing, past Ginny’s bedroom door and into her closet, where Harry currently had Ginny pressed against the wall. He couldn’t help but grin as he fell back to let Ginny regain her footing. Only Molly Weasley had a voice he could hear with his head half-pressed against Ginny’s summer dresses and shirts that she didn’t bring to Hogwarts.
Ginny groaned, moving her hand from behind his neck to press on her forehead (or so he assumed... he couldn’t exactly see her very well). “What does she want?”
Harry grinned further and fought a chuckle rising in his chest when he felt Ginny huff against him.
“She probably needs help with dinner,” said Harry, barely able to keep his laughter under control.
Ginny huffed again. “She doesn’t need my help. She never needs my help.”
“Ten people is a lot to cook for,” Harry reasoned, putting his hand on her waist.
“She has help. Fleur’s been dying to learn how to... oh, how does she say it... cook en ze Eenglish way for ages, ever since she and Bill got married.”
“But hasn’t she had enough time by now?” Harry asked, curiosity winning over the desire to whisper to Ginny to let Fleur handle the cooking and then being rather quiet for a long time.
“Well, she hasn’t had anyone to learn from,” Ginny said, shifting a little to put her arms around his back. Harry drew an inward breath, but Ginny didn’t seem to notice. “Bill’s been in Egypt for a long time, so he doesn’t know how to do anything else other than really simple stuff. Fleur hasn’t been hanging around the Burrow too much, and besides...” Ginny trailed off, and Harry could almost see her mischievous smile in the dark of her closet, “... they just got married over the summer, right? I’m betting they’ve been a bit too... busy for cooking lessons.”
Ginny collapsed into giggles in his chest. Harry felt a weak protest rise up in him... an admonishment of some sort... but it disappeared as soon as Ginny’s puffs of breath fell onto his neck.
Harry’s hair stood on end and he thought it a good idea to steer the conversation away from the newlywed antics of Bill and Fleur Weasley.
“Fleur can’t be too much help in the kitchen, then,” he said. “Maybe your mum really does need your help.”
Ginny’s giggles persisted. Her chest rose and fell with her laughter and Harry could feel it all.
“She only wants me down there to get Fleur out of the kitchen, I bet. Mum hasn’t allowed me to help in the kitchen since I can remember.”
This surprised Harry. “Why not?” he asked.
“I dunno. I can’t imagine why she needs me now.”
Harry leaned in close and whispered in her ear. “Because it’s Christmas, and you’re her only daughter.”
Ginny sighed. “I know,” she whispered, tugging him closer. He responded by putting his arms around her and kissing her on the forehead.
“Ginevra Weasley! Get down here now!”
Chuckling, Harry said “Full name. Must be serious.”
“Shut up.”
“You’d better get down there fast.”
“You talk like you want me to leave.”
“I’m a hormonal teenager. You think I want to be anywhere else than alone in a dark closet with my very attractive girlfriend?”
“I’d assume you prefer something a little more spacious.”
Harry grinned. “I’m not particularly picky,” he said, moving to press her against the wall again. “Anywhere will do... a closet,” he said, kissing her collarbone, “or a Quidditch shed,” he kissed her jaw, “or maybe even a--”
“GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY!”
This time they both laughed, only Harry’s was an embarrassed, forced kind of laughter. He slid his head away from hers, because she would surely be able to feel the heat from his flaming cheeks.
“Full name,” she whispered. “I guess I really do have to go.”
Ginny extricated herself from Harry’s arm and slowly opened her closet door. “You’d better go up to Ron’s room,” she whispered. “He’s still pretty sad that Hermione’s not here.” Harry nodded.
Gently, Ginny leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, pressing up on her tiptoes. It barely qualified as a kiss, and Harry longed to reach for her again when she fell back, flat-footed. She shot him a grin over her shoulder and winked before she walked out into the hall.
When she shut the door, Harry let himself fall back against the closet door. He took one shaky breath, then another, trying to get his heart back to its normal rhythm. His eyes closed and he took off his glasses, rubbing at his eyelids.
He heard the door open and shut. “Gin,” he started, fumbling to get the glasses back on. “What happened? Didn’t they need you for dinner...?”
Harry trailed off when his glasses were in place and his eyes were open. There was a Weasley in front of him... just not the Weasley he expected. Instead of finding Ginny standing in front of him, Harry saw a wizard, almost ten inches taller but with comparable length in hair.
Bill Weasley stood with his hand on Ginny’s doorknob, mouth hanging open, and Harry’s heart went still.
Quick. Think of something.
“Bill.”
No, not his name, you idiot! An excuse! Any excuse...
“Harry.”
Ron wanted me to find something... no, that’s rubbish.
“I... er””
Ginny was just showing me her room... but no, that doesn’t work, either...
“You don’t have to explain anything. I can guess what’s going on.”
Oh, sodding hell Potter, Ginny’s going to kill you...
“Bill, it’s not””
“Oh, I think it’s exactly what it looks like.”
Harry had always seen Bill as a rather cool bloke, what with the dragon hide boots and long hair and a fang earring. Hell, he had even married Fleur Delacour, one of the most beautiful girls Harry had ever seen.
At the moment, however, Bill didn’t look to be so cool. In fact, if Harry was taking “cool” literally, Bill was just the opposite. His face and ears were bright red and his fists were clenched together so tightly that his knuckles were white.
Harry gulped. Bill held his gaze steady and his eyes were beginning to water, but Harry didn’t dare blink. He was reminded both of staring down a hippogriff and also facing the Hungarian Horntail. Only Bill, in his dragon hide boots, looked more intimidating than the Hungarian Horntail had ever appeared to Harry.
“So it was true, then?” Bill abruptly broke both the silence and Harry’s gaze by speaking and diverting his eyes to Ginny’s bureau.
It was the question Harry had been expecting, but he still couldn’t answer. “It... well, the thing is””
“The article. It’s true.”
Yes.
Bill took one look at Harry’s eyes and knew the answer, even though Harry hadn’t spoken the word.
Damn your transparent feelings, Potter!
“So you lied to us.”
“Well...”
“I’m getting it, Mum!” Ginny’s voice rang into her room from outside in the hallway. Harry’s stomach clenched.
Don’t come in here, Ginny… you don’t want to come in...
The door to Ginny’s room banged open. She stood in the doorway, her smile fading from her face as she realized who was inside.
Too late.
***
A/N: Hoped you liked it. :)
Disclaimers:
1. "Dinner that night was a very enjoyable affair." Courtesy of JKR, Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban.
2. "Ginner Pinner." Courtesy of Arabella and Zsenya's After the End.
Did you all like Luna's cameo appearance? For those of you raising your eyebrows as to why she was there, remember this quote?
"... the Lovegoods couldn't get tickets..."
Amos Diggory, GoF. I was so hoping to see Luna appear at the Burrow in HBP, but sadly, she did not. But still... what about that Quidditch commentary, eh? :)
***
What's All the Fuzz About? by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Fourteen: What's All the Fuzz About?
***
A/N: Well, summer's officially over. School has begun. All hail the class of 2006!
This chapter had a little trouble getting through... at first, it was deleted, because I submitted two chapters at once. Apparently, that's against the rules. :/ Meh.
Be warned... I'm not too big a fan of this chapter. But I really like the next one, and it's completely finished, so check back soon.
***
The door to Ginny’s room banged open. She stood in the doorway, her smile fading from her face as she realized who was inside.
“Bill... Harry...” she said, trying to mask her obvious anxiety. “What are you doing in here?” She tossed her head and attempted to speak sternly. “This is my room, you know, you can’t just come in here without permission””
“Oh, I’d say that Harry had more than enough permission,” Bill hissed. Ginny’s mouth fell open.
“What” what do you... mean?” she said slowly. Her eyes flicked to Harry for just a second before she looked back to the ground.
Stomach twisting, Harry watched Bill’s eyes dart from Harry to Ginny and back to Harry again. Ginny remained standing at the door, both hands behind her back, grasping the doorknob. Then, showing an uncharacteristic amount of nervousness, she bit her lip and took a step forward.
“Bill, I””
“Don’t even bother, Ginny.”
Ginny’s teeth released her lip and her eyes flashed. “Don’t even bother what?”
“Don’t bother lying. I know what’s going on.”
Rapidly losing her air of anxiety, Ginny narrowed her eyes. “Oh you do, do you?”
Here it comes.
Harry could sense the battle brewing and instinctively stepped forward. He realized it was unlikely that he would have to hold Bill back from trying to get at his little sister, but one could never tell what Ginny might do. Groping inside his robe pocket, Harry’s fingers found his wand.
“Yeah, I know. You and Harry. You’re...” said Bill, gesturing vaguely as Ginny took another step forward.
“We’re what?” Ginny was looking dangerous, with her eyes flashing and her voice dangerous.
“Together,” Bill growled through clenched teeth. It sounded as though saying the word caused him a great deal of pain.
“And just how do you think you know””
Bill made a vehement noise of irritation and spat “Look, Gin. Harry was in here, alone, expecting you to come in the door instead of me. I’m not stupid, you know.”
“You’re doing a bad job of showing it,” said Ginny, raising her chin defiantly.
Bad move, Gin.
Bill’s eyes flashed, just as Ginny’s had done a second ago. Harry took another step forward, just in case.
“And what’s that supposed to mean?” yelled Bill, taking a step toward Ginny. She reciprocated, looking equally angry.
“You barge in here, completely uninvited, and start making unfounded accusations about my love life? Something which, by the way, is none of your business””
Bill’s face was growing redder by the second. “Unfounded accusations?” he spluttered. “Unfounded? Harry just told me the Rita Skeeter article was true!”
Ginny’s furious eyes landed on Harry as he opened his mouth to protest.
“I did not””
Bill continued as though Harry hadn’t spoken. “Well, maybe he didn’t say so, but it’s still the truth! Isn’t it?”
“Isn’t what?” Ginny’s voice had a hard, sarcastic edge to it that Harry had never remembered hearing.
Bill walked forward so he was almost nose to nose (or, in this case, shoulder to nose) with Ginny. He towered over his younger sister and asked, in a hard voice “The article is true, isn’t it?”
Defiantly, Ginny flipped her hair, strolled toward Harry and picked up his hand. When she turned her head to look at him, however, Harry saw that beneath all her Weasley bravado, she was nervous. She looked at him, pleading with her eyes, biting her lip. Harry squeezed her hand and nodded when she raised her eyebrows in question.
Ginny turned her face to Bill. “Yes, it’s bloody well true. I don’t see what you’re so upset about.”
Bill’s jaw had dropped, but he recovered quickly. “I just don’t like being lied to!” he exclaimed, his brow furrowing at Ginny’s hand clasped in Harry’s.
“We never lied, Bill,” said Ginny, rubbing her forehead with her free hand and sounding tired.
“But the art””
“I don’t care about the ruddy article!” Ginny burst. Her grip on Harry’s hand was becoming painful. “I never said it wasn’t true, and neither did Harry. Everyone else just denied it for us.”
Looking incredulous, Bill said “And you” you think that’s not lying? Just because you never affirmed or denied it?”
Ginny tossed her head. “Well””
“And that still doesn’t change the fact that you’ve been here over two days and you still haven’t said anything””
“Just because I didn’t shout it from the rooftops, you think I’m lying?” Ginny’s cheeks were flaming and her hair was flying, but her hand stayed firmly in Harry’s. “I don’t recall you writing letters home about sordid meetings with your numerous girlfriends!”
The color in Bill’s face spread to his ears. “That was different,” he said quickly. “You and Harry””
“How is it different?” said Ginny, nearly snarling.
But Bill didn’t answer. His face had suddenly changed, his brow furrowing into a look of confusion. He turned around and stared at Ginny’s door for a second, before striding forward and wrenching it open.
“Ooof!”
“Bloody””
“Watch it!”
Harry watched in horror as Charlie Weasley, Ginny’s second-oldest brother, fell to the ground, quickly followed by Fred and George. Ron was the only one who managed to stay on his feet. He stood at the back of the group, looking torn. Quickly, Harry shot him a look of desperation, and Ron nodded.
Charlie, Fred, and George picked themselves up and continued into Ginny’s room without permission. Ron followed, shutting the door. The brothers looked oddly out of place in Ginny’s room, with its little feminine touches everywhere. George bumped his elbow on a small vase of flowers and Charlie tripped over a pair of underwear on the floor. He looked revolted.
“Geez, Gin, don’t leave this stuff hanging around…”
“I’m sure I would have had time to put it away if you all hadn’t been tripping over yourselves to come in,” said Ginny coldly.
With Harry and Ginny on one side of the room and Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, and Ron on the other, it looked like an odd sort of duel was being arranged. Harry watched as each one of Ginny’s brothers took in the sight of Ginny gripping his hand.
“Run out of Extendable Ears, I see,” said Harry, breaking the tense silence.
“They’re gone. Sold every pair,” said George, rubbing his elbow. “Apparently they’re pretty useful.”
After a few seconds, Ginny opened her mouth, speaking with apparent effort. “How much did you hear?”
“Enough,” said Charlie.
Ginny’s room, which had been Harry’s idea of heaven just twenty minutes before, was quickly spiraling into something resembling an extremely cramped hell. He wondered if Ginny’s window was large enough to make an escape, because Fred and George were blocking the door with their arms crossed. Fred caught Harry’s eye and Harry thought he detected a trace of a grin, but it quickly disappeared.
“Look…” said Harry. “We’re really sorry that we didn’t tell you.”
“Oh, really?” said Charlie forcefully. “It didn’t sound like it two minutes ago.”
Harry flushed, but Ginny flared up. “Honestly!” Ginny had flung up her hand in disgust. “Get over yourselves! You all are acting like we’ve committed some crime!”
Ron grinned at that. Fred and George glanced at each other and seemed to be fighting down some sort of joking remark, but Bill and Charlie still held stubborn frowns on their faces.
Well, they’re more like her fathers than anything, really.
Which was completely true, Harry thought. Bill was twenty-five and Charlie twenty-three… they probably felt paternal feelings towards Ginny over everything else.
Which would explain why they’re two steps away from hexing you.
“Look,” said Ginny, when the silence continued. “I’m sorry… we’re both sorry… that we didn’t tell you straight off. But even if we did want to keep it quiet, can you blame us? Look at how you’re reacting!”
Looking highly affronted, Bill sputtered “Reacting…”
“He’s still Harry,” said Ginny simply, in a quieter voice. “He’s Harry. Every single one of you loves him, don’t pretend that you don’t. Nothing’s different about him, except now he’s my boyfriend. He’s held my hand. He’s kissed me. That’s about it.”
Harry’s face burned, but he still looked at the other side of the room in a kind of defiant way. He squeezed Ginny’s hand.
Bill threw a helpless look at Charlie. They seemed very reluctant to give up their fight. “But you still lied, Gin,” he said. “To all of us.”
Ginny sighed. “I already told Bill, we never lied.”
“You still should have said something,” said George. “I mean, I think we all had the right to know””
“The right?” Ginny said incredulously. “The right? I can’t believe you all!” Ginny was getting angrier by the second. “I’ve kept secrets for all of you, every single one!” She pointed at George. “I never anything when you broke Charlie’s Cleansweep over the summer because he wouldn’t let you on the Quidditch team your second year””
“That was you?” Charlie exclaimed, all manner of being angry at Harry forgotten. “I loved that broom!”
Ginny rounded on Fred. “I never said anything when you spent half your sixth year pining over Angelina””
Fred’s cheeks grew red and George elbowed him, grinning.
“I never said anything, Charlie, when you got that dragon tattoo and had it removed two weeks later because you had an allergic reaction…” Charlie gave up his attempts to get to George and had the decency to flush. Bill looked surprised and stared at Charlie as though examining him for any remaining bits of tattoo. Ginny rounded on Bill next. “I never told anyone about you and Fleur, Bill, even when it was painfully obvious…” Bill blushed.
“And you!” Ginny’s face softened when she got to Ron, perhaps because he was the only one who hadn’t expressed animosity towards Harry. The intensity of her words was softened as well. “I never told her,” she whispered. “I never said a word.”
Harry knew perfectly well who Ginny was talking about. So, apparently, did everyone else in the room, but they didn’t say anything. Ginny had shocked them into submission.
Looks like they know who’s boss.
“That’s not the same”” Bill started, but Ginny cut him off.
“Oh, be quiet. I’m sick of this. I’m not a child; I can take care of myself””
“We just want to protect you!”
Harry could practically feel Ginny rolling her eyes. “Protect me? From who? The sodding Boy-Who-bloody-Lived?”
“Ginevra Weasley!”
Feeling his stomach twist into an even tighter knot, Harry looked at Ginny’s door. It had just opened of its own accord, leaving Mr. and Mrs. Weasley framed in the doorway. Fleur stood behind them, a look of smug triumph on her face.
“We ‘eard yelling,” she explained, smirking at Ginny. “And we wanted to see what all ze fuzz was about.”
Fuzz?
She means ‘fuss,’ idiot.
Ginny’s eyes had narrowed at Fleur and she glared at her for a moment. Harry had never realized that Ginny didn’t exactly like Fleur, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. Not when Mrs. Weasley looked as though steam was about to start coming out of her ears. Not for the first time did Harry notice her resemblance to a saber-toothed tiger.
“What is going on here?” she asked quietly.
“It’s a party,” said Ginny sarcastically. “Come on in and join the fun!”
“Be quiet, young lady,” Mrs. Weasley said sternly, and Ginny fell silent.
The knot in Harry’s stomach was quickly disappearing… possibly because his entire stomach had just dropped out entirely. The pressure on his hand, however, increased tenfold. Harry glanced at Ginny, surprised, and saw that she had dropped her defiant face and was looking at the ground.
“Mum,” she said quietly. “There’s something I would… we would… like to tell you.”
Even Harry could notice her hesitation at the words.
“Mum, Harry and I, we’re””
“Darling, I already know. What kind of a mother would I be if I hadn’t noticed?”
Harry was very relieved to see that Mrs. Weasley’s face had lost some of its color and she was now smiling warmly.
“Oh, great,” said Ginny, again sarcastically. “Well, if everyone knows now, can you just leave us in peace?”
“You’re not getting off that easily,” said Mrs. Weasley, now with quite a benign smile on her face. “I want some answers.”
Harry had been afraid of this.
“A”answers?” Ginny stuttered.
“Just one,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Why?”
“Why… what?”
“Why did you want to keep it a secret? Didn’t you know we’d be happy for you?”
“Not the way this lot’s been acting””
“They’re just reacting like that because they love you, Ginny. But I think we’re all a little hurt that you lied to us. Why?”
Next to him, Ginny took a deep breath. Harry felt her grip go a little weaker.
She’s done.
He knew it. She had already fought her fight. Now it was his turn.
“Voldemort,” he said, quite simply.
Each and every Weasley turned to stare at him, shifting their eyes from their daughter.
“Voldemort?” asked Mr. Weasley in a calm voice. Then, when Harry nodded, he added “Please explain.”
“He… that is, I…” Harry stopped and took a deep breath. Ginny squeezed his hand, encouraging him. “Voldemort’s already tried to kill me more than once. If he knew that Ginny and I were together… that I care about her… he’d use her. He’d hurt her to hurt me. And I can’t let that happen.”
They all stared in silence for a moment. “Oh,” said Charlie, clearly looking a little ashamed with himself. Bill was looking slightly abashed too.
“Well…”
“I suppose…”
“Gin, look…”
“We don’t mean to get so angry…”
“I know,” said Ginny, smiling. “Just, calm down a little, okay? It’s not like the world has changed.”
It was as though something swooped through the air, relieving the room of all its tension. Suddenly, Harry found the Weasley brothers standing in front of him, thumping his back, shaking his hand, and telling him that they were sorry they overreacted. Then Mrs. Weasley gave him a hug and whispered in his ear “I’m so glad, Harry.” Then, one by one, each person left Ginny’s room. Ron was the last to go. He paused by the door, turned, and grinned.
“Just remember, Potter,” he said in a mock-warning tone. “Hurt her, and we’ll kill you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Harry said, bewildered.
Ron shut the door.
He and Ginny were alone together. It was quite surreal. Just minutes before, this room had been full of older Weasleys who wanted to kill him. But now, they had just voluntarily left him alone with their younger sister. Harry and Ginny turned to look at each other, amazed.
“Did that just happen?” Harry asked her, incredulously.
“I think so,” she replied, amazement in her voice. “They never fail to surprise me.”
“I told you they’d want to kill me.”
“Well, they don’t anymore, do they?”
“No. I suppose not.”
Ginny fell back on her bed, bringing her hand up to cover her eyes. “I can’t believe it happened like that.”
Gingerly, wondering if this was even allowed, Harry sat on the corner of her bed. Ginny’s hips were very close and he laced his fingers together to stop from reaching towards her. “At least now they know.”
“Yeah.” Ginny’s hand left her face as she stretched both arms above her head, arching her back and making a little sound of relief. Harry sucked in a breath and bit his tongue. But apparently Ginny hadn’t noticed, because she opened her eyes and beckoned him with her finger. “C’mere.”
“Ginny…” Harry tried to protest, but she reached up and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. He put up some resistance, but not much, as he half-fell on top of her chest. He placed his hands on either side of her and held himself up. “They’ll kill me.”
“I think we’ve already decided that they won’t,” she said in a low voice. “And if they come in here without knocking, they’ll be very sorry indeed.”
“But”” Harry’s protest was cut off by Ginny’s finger as she pressed it over his lips. She then followed a path up to the sides of his face, where she grasped the metal of his glasses and took them off.
He didn’t really need those glasses anyway, Harry thought, as his eyes slid shut and he bent his head. Why would he need them, when the world simply made much more sense like this?
***
Disclaimers:
I'm sure there's something in there. If you find it, point it out to me.
I'll submit chapter fifteen as soon as chapter fourteen is approved, all right? Think of it as a Christmas present... in September. ;)
'Tis the Season to be Jolly by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Fifteen: 'Tis the Season to be Jolly
***
A/N: So much for a Christmas present in September.
This is becoming more than a little annoying. I was so excited to finally have a chapter ready for you guys that I submitted it as soon as possible... only to have both chapter fourteen and fifteen rejected. You're not supposed to have more than one chapter in the queue at a time.
So I submitted chapter fourteen and it was accepted. All was good.
So then I submitted chapter fifteen and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I finally decided to check my account on MNFF, to see if the story was in the queue. It wasn't. Even after all that trouble, it had randomly been deleted.
So I submitted it again. And it was randomly deleted again.
I really hope this is a problem with the server or some other computer-y type thing. It's just annoying the crap out of me.
So I'm resubmitting for the third time. Let's hope it's the charm.
***
“Deck the halls with boughs of holly, fa la la la la la la la la … ‘Tis the season to be jolly, fa la la la la la la la la… Don we now our gay apparel, fa la la la la la la la la… Troll the ancient Yuletide carol, fa la la la la la la la la…”
The connection to the Wizarding Wireless crackled to life as the in the living room of the Burrow grew dark. The embers in the pit of the fireplace were burning low, crumbling over each other and emitting a warm glow over each person in the room.
All earlier animosity was forgotten, and Harry couldn’t be happier. He smiled at Ginny as he slung an arm over her shoulders, drawing her closer. She smiled back, reaching up to her shoulder and taking his hand in hers.
It is indeed the season to be jolly.
Harry smiled again and kissed Ginny on her forehead. She shut her eyes, smiled broadly, and put her head on his shoulder. Across the room, Fleur and Bill were speaking in low voices, with their foreheads very close together. Next to them, Fred was losing a game of chess with Charlie with very flamboyant flair. George was at his side, egging him on and occasionally trying to whisper hints, but Charlie wouldn’t have any of it.
Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat together on the settee, watching the fire burn into ashes. Mrs. Weasley sighed contentedly as the song changed to “Silent Night,” and she leaned back into the cushions.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ginny whispered. She was staring at the lights on the Christmas tree that they had all finished decorating.
“It is,” agreed Harry. He had never decorated a Christmas tree before tonight. Luckily, the Weasleys had had plenty of practice.
“It’s fun, Harry, come on!”
“Look, here’s the one Ginny made when she was four””
“That’s yours, George, you prat.”
“But it’s got your ‘G’ on it!”
“My ‘G’’s were never as ugly as that, brother dear.”
“You little””
Feeling as though his smile was permanently in place, Harry looked over Ginny’s gleaming hair at Ron. He was looking at the tree, a wistful expression on his face.
“You all right, Ron?” Harry asked quietly. Ron nodded but didn’t say anything. Slowly, Ginny lifted her head from Harry’s shoulder and took one of Ron’s hands in her own.
“Hermione’s fine, Ron. Come on, cheer up… it’s Christmas!”
Again, Ron nodded but didn’t speak. Ginny turned to Harry with plaintive eyes, and Harry stepped closer to Ron.
“Remember all the Christmases we’ve spent together?” Harry asked, trying to get Ron to smile. “Remember first year, and the Invisibility Cloak? And the dinner with Trelawney in third year?” Ron nodded, and Harry pressed on. “Remember second year?” The corners of Ron’s mouth twitched, but he still wouldn’t give up his gaze on the tree. “Remember how we thought Malfoy was petrifying all those people and wanted to prove it?”
“And how we made the Polyjuice Potion and Hermione ended up with a cat’s tail?” Ron finished. Grinning ruefully, he added, “Yeah, I do.”
“Excuse me.” It was very faint, but Harry definitely noticed as Ginny slid out from under his arm and hurried to the other side of the room. She disappeared into the kitchen.
Bewildered, Harry looked at Ron. “What did she leave for?”
Ron looked just as perplexed as Harry felt. “Dunno,” he said, shaking his head. “Maybe she wanted to get your Christmas present or something…”
“But she would have gone up the stairs, not into the kitchen. And she seemed upset.”
Harry quickly ran through all the possibilities of what could have made Ginny leave. It had all happened so quickly… the Wireless was playing… Ginny was holding his hand… Ron was looking depressed and they tried to cheer him up…
Harry shut his eyes in horror as the realization came to him.
“… we thought Malfoy was petrifying all those people…”
“Ron,” he said slowly, “I am, without doubt, a total and complete idiot.”
Finally! Something sinks in!
“What?” Ron asked, looking amused. “Why?”
“Who else besides the world’s biggest pillock would bring up Ginny’s first year right in front of her? On Christmas Eve?”
Horrible realization registered on Ron’s face. “Oh,” he said. “Harry…”
But Harry had already left his side, heading for the kitchen.
He pushed the door open, but Ginny wasn’t there. For one horrible second, he whirled around to face the kitchen fireplace, wondering if she possibly had Flooed somewhere… but then rational thought returned, and he went to the door.
Cold air rushed past him and he shivered”he hadn’t remembered his cloak. But when he saw Ginny sitting on the garden bench, a wretched look on her face, he decided that he really didn’t need the cloak after all. Suddenly, the wind blew again, slamming the door shut behind Harry’s back. He winced, but Ginny didn’t even lift her head.
The hard snow crunched beneath his shoes as he slowly made his way over to the garden bench. Ginny continued staring at the ground, even when he sat down. Unsure of whether or not he should touch her, Harry folded his hands in his lap.
The wind howled as they sat together. Harry fought down another shiver and prodded the snow by his feet with the toe of his shoe.
“You know…” she said quietly, still not looking at him, “sometimes, I can go for days… weeks, even… and not remember. It’s almost like… I almost… forget that it ever happened.”
Ginny took a deep breath and threw her head back, looking up at the sky. Her eyes were shining with tears.
“But then I remember,” she whispered, and closed her eyes. “I remember… everything. And it hurts.”
Harry couldn’t remember ever feeling this miserable… not since Sirius had died. Ginny’s pain emanated from all around her.
“I’m sorry,” he said, immediately feeling stupid. The gesture felt so small compared to the vastness of her hurt.
“It’s not your fault,” she said. “Everyone forgets. But just because”” she paused and brought a hand up to her face, angrily swiping at a tear. “Just because I never talk about it doesn’t mean that it didn’t happen.”
“I know,” said Harry. His voice was hoarse and he cleared his throat, then tried again. “I know,” he said. “And I’m sorry.”
“I know that,” she said. “I know you didn’t mean to, but, Harry…” Her head dropped forward and she put her face in her hands, dropping her elbows to rest on her knees. “I can understand if the rest of them don’t want to talk about it. But…” She sniffed. Her voice was muffled by her hands. “Harry… I don’t think I can take it if you forget. Can you understand that?”
“Yes,” he said quietly, feeling like an arse.
“I mean,” she started, sitting up straight and wiping her eyes, “it’s not really that big a deal. Just this little thing””
Harry reached out and pulled her into his chest. “I’ve told you before, Gin,” he said. “You’re a rotten liar.”
She made a noise somewhere between half a snort and half a sob, and Harry held on tighter.
“You can tell me about it, if you want,” he whispered into her ear. He felt her arms work their way around his back at a rather awkward angle. Acting on instinct, he reached down and put one of his arms beneath her legs and pulled her into his lap. He then found one of her hands with his free one and gripped it tightly.
“It was so cold.” Her voice was barely more than a whisper. Harry tightened his grip on her back.
“And he was always there… in my head. I couldn’t get rid of him. He made me…” Ginny paused and took a deep breath. “He made me do… terrible things. And I let him.”
“No, you didn’t,” he reassured her. “Ginny, you didn’t let him. He made you.”
“Because I was stupid enough to write in that diary…”
“Don’t say that.”
“It’s true.”
“No, it’s not.”
“But I still did all that, didn’t I? I hurt people. I almost…” her voice was thick with tears again. “I almost killed people…”
“But that wasn’t you. It was him all along.”
“What difference does that make? It’s still my fault everyone was Petrified.”
“Ginny…” he tried to bring her closer. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned… it’s that you can’t think everything is your fault. I used to… I still do, sometimes… but you can’t think like that.”
“What do you think is your fault?” she whispered in a very small voice.
A lump rose in his throat and he had to cough before he spoke. He had never told anyone this before. “My parents,” he whispered. “Cedric. Sirius.”
“Harry, none of that is your fault””
“And none of the stuff Riddle made you do was your fault! None.” He had to make her see... it wasn’t her fault. She didn’t deserve to have to harbor the guilt he knew she carried with her.
“I’ve almost killed people,” she whispered. “I don’t even deserve to speak to you””
“What?” He hadn’t seen that coming at all. Before he could protest more, Ginny had sat up. She pushed back against his arms.
“I don’t deserve you””
“You’ve got that backwards,” he said, tightening his arms and refusing to let her go. “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”
“How’s that?” Her face was a mask of pain and Harry reached up to touch her cheek.
“You want to know what I’ve done?” he asked in a low voice. When Ginny didn’t answer, he continued. “I tried” I tried to use the Cruciatus Curse on Bellatrix Lestrange. Right after she killed… him.” Ginny gave another sniff. “I wanted to kill her. And in my third year…” Harry closed his eyes as memories from the Shrieking Shack came rushing back. Ron’s leg breaking. He, Ron, and Hermione attacking Snape.
Sirius, standing in front of the door…
“In my third year,” he continued, “before I knew who Sirius was… I wanted to kill him. I almost did.”
“But you didn’t, in the end.”
“And neither did you!” Harry didn’t know what else he could do to make her see sense. She wasn’t the person she thought she was… she was so much more than that….
“He possessed me,” she whispered faintly, her head falling back onto his chest, her arms pinned between their torsos. “He possessed me…”
“That doesn’t matter,” Harry said firmly. “He’s possessed me, too. And we’re both all right.”
“But””
“We’re fine,” he said, with some finality. Ginny went still in his arms.
“All right,” she whispered.
They stayed like this for awhile, with her curled up in his lap and his arms around her back. Harry reached up and stroked her hair.
“Harry?” Her voice was low and it vibrated in the space between them.
“Yeah?” In between their bodies, Ginny’s hands opened. Tentatively, she placed them on the front of his chest. Harry gasped. Warmth and chills spread through his body simultaneously.
“Thank you.” Her hands closed and opened on his chest and Harry sucked in another breath.
“You’re welcome,” he gasped.
“I love you, you know.”
“I know.”
They sat and breathed together, Harry’s hands splayed on Ginny’s back, exploring her spine and shoulder blades, while she reciprocated on the front of his chest.
“This is the best Christmas I’ve ever had,” he blurted. Ginny smiled, and he congratulated himself.
“Me, too,” she said. “Well… actually…” she put on a fake thoughtful look, “that one Christmas when Bill accidentally made the pudding explode is pretty up there, too.”
They both laughed. And then, just because it felt like it was a necessary thing to do, Harry kissed her.
The kiss swept through him, warming him all the way to his toes. This kiss wasn’t frantic or hungry… it was slow, and deliberate, and sweet. Harry’s mind was numb. Ginny shifted one of her legs closer and something moved in Harry’s pocket.
“I got you a gift,” he said. Ginny smiled again.
Quickly, Harry reached for his pocket. Before he pulled out the box, however, he paused.
“What is it?” Ginny asked, one eyebrow quirked.
“Luna helped me,” he blurted.
This time, both Ginny’s eyebrows went up. “Luna? Luna Lovegood?”
“Yeah.” Harry hurried on, feeling that if he got this out in a rush it would be all right. “She was at the store at the same time as me and Ron, and we got to talking, and she… helped me.”
“Oh,” said Ginny, sitting up a bit straighter. “All right.”
“You’re not mad?”
Ginny stared. “You’re about to give me a present and you’re asking if I’m angry?”
Grinning, Harry said. “Oh. Okay.”
Ginny grinned as well. “Oh, come on, you can’t keep me waiting now that you’ve told me about it.”
Harry pulled the box out of his pocket. “Happy Christmas, Ginny.”
Apprehension pooled at the pit of his stomach as he watched her rip off the paper. Her eyes widened when she saw it was a jewelry box. Slowly… too slowly, in Harry’s opinion… she opened the box.
…
Well?!
…
“Oh, Harry…” she breathed, raising a finger to stroke the necklace. “I love it.”
Harry let out a breath he hadn’t been aware of holding. “You do?”
“Yes, of course… it’s beautiful. I love it.”
“Well… good.”
She smiled. “Help me put it on?”
“All right.”
Gently, she took the necklace out of the box, then lifted her hair and turned her head away. Fumbling slightly in the darkness (and also because Ginny’s bare neck was glowing just inches away from him), Harry put on the necklace. Then, because he couldn’t stop himself from doing so, he leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her neck.
Goosebumps raised up all up and down her neck. She shivered, and so did he, as he began to move his lips down to where her neck met her shoulders. He paused when he reached the collar of her sweater, but she turned around quickly. She turned so quickly, in fact, that the delicate silver feather that hung from her chain whipped him on the face.
“Oops,” she giggled, putting her fingers around it. “Sorry.”
He smiled at her just as another gust of wind came. Snow that hadn’t hardened on the ground yet swirled around in the air.
“Oh,” she breathed. “Look. It’s beautiful.” Harry looked up and saw that it was indeed beautiful, what with the outside light from the Burrow illuminating the airborne flakes. But as Ginny shivered, snow was driven from his mind.
“All right, let’s get you inside,” he said, matter-of-factly. “You’re about to freeze.”
“But it’s so lovely””
“Let’s go.”
She tried to glare at him, but didn’t do a very good job. “Since when did you get so bossy?” she asked derisively, pushing on his chest while she stood up.
“I’m not being bossy,” he said defensively. “I just don’t want you to freeze to death.”
“You’re one to talk. You don’t even have a cloak on!”
“All the more reason for us to go inside.”
She considered him for a moment, then relented. “Fine,” she said, and flounced away. Harry followed, grinning broadly. It was Christmas Eve. Her family knew. They had just had a serious conversation.
And, to top it all off… Ginny liked her present.
Nice job, Potter. All in all, it’s been a pretty good night.
***
Disclaimer:
I don't deserve you... no, I don't deserve you... do you really even have to guess where this is from? A&Z's After the End, of course.
So... I guess this turned out to be a Christmas present in October, instead. Hope you liked it.
***
A Very Familiar Statue by CathCarl
***
Right Under His Nose
Chapter Sixteen: A Very Familiar Statue
***
A/N:
Hello. Since it's already past the holidays, I'll just go on and say Happy New Year to you all.
No doubt a lot of you have forgotten about this story, and I truly am sorry for such long time between updates. You probably don't want to hear about my busy schedule. But don't worry... even though it seems like it, I haven't forgotten it. I've planned it all out til the end. This makes me both sad and happy… happy because I can finally start on something else without feeling that guilty twinge that reminds me I should be working on this… and sad because this story will be over. It’s been with me for a year. It’s like my child.
But never fear! The end isn’t in sight yet. We’ve still a lot of story to get to.
I really will try to get chapter seventeen to you guys in a timely fashion.
***
“And the Quaffle is back in Gryffindor possession… nice reverse pass there by Ginny Weasley of Gryffindor, she’s really flying well today…”
A little glow of pride reached Harry’s heart and he ducked against the blast of air shooting upward to meet him. The cold January wind whipped through hair anyway, and Harry fought a shiver as he looked for the Snitch. It took all his focus not to seek out Ginny’s eyes and grin. Ron had drilled it into his head in no uncertain terms that he was not, under any circumstances, allowed to look at Ginny during the match… even if her Quidditch trousers clung to her in ways that her school robes could never hope to…
Focus, Potter.
Harry stopped his search to study Hufflepuff Seeker for a quick second. She was Chastity Roberts, a third year, and looked scared half out of her mind. She was hovering on the other end of the pitch… a dumb tactic, really, since Seekers always needed to be on the move.
“And another ten points to Gryffindor. The score stands at one hundred forty to fifty, Gryffindor in the lead, but the Snitch is taking its time, so we might be here for a long night…”
Harry tuned out the commentary, given this year by Justin Finch-Fletchly, and did another lap around the pitch. He couldn’t be sure of Gryffindor’s victory yet… they were only ninety points up. Harry narrowed his eyes, looking for any kind of glimmer.
There.
A sudden, bright flash had appeared in the very corner of Harry’s right eye. An excited jolt jump started his nerves, and his heart began pounding. Breathing heavily, he whipped around and saw the flash again. Bending low over his broom, he raced to the eastern side of the field toward a sea of green and silver. Even when the Slytherin team wasn’t playing, the whole house was dressed in their colors. But Harry couldn’t dwell on that now.
“And there goes Harry Potter, Gryffindor, of course, it looks like he may have his eye on something…”
Harry silently cursed Justin as he narrowed his eyes. Roberts may have been scared, but she wasn’t dumb. If she hadn’t noticed him moving before, she certainly would now, and that was just one more thing to worry about before he caught it.
Because he would catch it. He always did. There really wasn’t any other option.
The light flashed again, this time from his left, and Harry started. He redoubled his focus, willing his eyes to stay open, and dashed after the source of the light. But it flashed again, too soon, from exactly the same place.
Harry eased up a little on his Firebolt, something finally registering in his mind. It was a cloudy day. Sunlight barely penetrated through the clouds… it was enough so he could see, but it wouldn’t be enough to glint off a tiny golden ball. And even if it had managed to work its way through some of the clouds, it was very unlikely that it would stay in the same place…
The same place in the ruddy Slytherin stands, Potter...
Harry’s eyes landed on Draco Malfoy’s laughing, sneering face. In his hand was a small compact mirror.
This time cursing himself for falling for Malfoy’s trick and wasting precious time, Harry zoomed away. He barely avoided Roberts, who had taken her sweet time getting over to the east end…
“Don’t know what Potter thinks he’s doing… a false alarm, maybe…”
I’ll say.
Scowling, Harry went even higher on his broom. Cheating was illegal, of course, and he had half a mind to catch Ron’s attention and call a timeout to inform Madam Hooch…
“Harry! Harry! Behind you! Quick!”
Not even registering that Ginny spoke to him, Harry whipped around and finally spotted the Snitch. Its wings fluttered and it sped off, but Harry had seen it. He kept his eyes on his target as he flattened himself to his broom. His hair flew back off his forehead, giving Harry the familiar shock that it always did. His eyes smarted and burned, even behind his glasses, but he refused to let them shut. He could vaguely hear the crowd roaring and Justin shouting; he knew Roberts must be on his tail but didn’t spare her a glance. It was his.
Yes.
“YES!”
Harry’s hand closed around the tiny winged ball and he sat up, shooting his fist into the air in victory. The mass of scarlet roared its approval as Harry sped toward the goalposts to meet Ron, who was grinning broadly and shouting something Harry couldn’t hear. The Hufflepuff Chasers drifted toward the ground, somewhat sadly, and began making their slow walk to the locker rooms. Harry’s eyes caught on Roberts, who was just dismounting her broom… she was crying. Harry bit his lip, suddenly feeling as though maybe he should have let her catch it… but then a flash of copper that stood out from all the scarlet caught his eye. Ginny was flying toward him, beaming, and he decided that it was a good thing he had caught it after all. Harry beamed right back at her, taking his fist out of the air and offering it forward, as though he had caught it just for her.
Ginny stopped just a few feet short of him and grinned, beckoning their other teammates. Ron sped toward them, as did Colin and Dennis Creevey, their Beaters, and Samantha Vance and George Billups, their third and fourth year Chasers. As a unit, the team descended, and were soon met by waves of Gryffindor supporters. Hermione pushed her way through the crowd to come meet them.
“Oh, Harry,” she said, and threw her arms around him. “It was a wonderful catch.” She quickly let go of him and moved to Ginny, also enveloping her in a hug and saying “You did wonderfully!”
Ron was watching Hermione with a slow grin starting on his face. When she broke away from Ginny, Hermione glanced over at Ron and took a slow step forward.
“You were wonderful today,” she said, somewhat shyly, biting down a grin.
Ron stepped toward her as well. “You really think so?” he asked, his voice full of disbelief. But Harry could see a twinkle in his eye that he reserved especially for teasing Hermione and had to hold back a snort of laughter.
“Of course I think so, I always think so. I always think you do wonderfully, why would you ever think that I didn’t””
But Ron stepped forward and wrapped Hermione in a hug. She giggled in a very un-Hermione like way when her feet left the ground. Ron spun her around twice before finally setting her down and silencing her with a kiss. Harry looked away”while he had long since accepted his two best friends as a couple, that didn’t mean he had to watch their private moments.
“Gosh, get a room.”
Harry turned around. Ginny was right behind him, looking as though she was fighting a terribly strong urge to smirk. She soon turned her gaze to him, however, and all the celebratory noise suddenly went quiet in Harry’s ear.
“It was a wonderful catch, Harry,” she said, tugging at the toggles on her Quidditch jacket.
He inched closer, hoping she would let him kiss her. “I wouldn’t have gotten it if you hadn’t said anything.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. Of course you would have. You always do.”
He felt himself grinning cockily, running his fingers through his hair. “I guess you’re right.”
Quick as a flash, her right arm swung around and she swatted him on the shoulder. He stumbled back slightly, bringing his hand up to where she had hit him.
“Ow! What was that for?”
“That was to remind you not to get too big a head, mister.” She swung her broom over her shoulder and tossed her hair. “We can’t have you proving what the paper says about you is true.”
He scuffed his shoe on the ground. “I wasn’t getting a big head.”
She came forward and wrapped her free arm around his waist, tugging him close. “Yes, you were. But don’t worry… I just had to knock some sense into you.”
“It hurt.”
“Don’t be such a baby.”
“Oh, so now I’m a baby?”
“And a whinging one at that.”
“You little””
Harry had been with Ginny long enough to know that hand-to-hand combat was useless”he may have been good at running and dodging playful blows, but Ginny was better, and she could slap and punch her way out of any situation. All situations… save one.
A wicked grin crossed Harry’s face as he reached out for Ginny’s middle and began tickling her. Any defense that she could have had was gone now. Harry watched as her face screwed up… she would always try to fight it, but she never won.
“Harry, stop it””
This only made him attack more relentlessly. His mirth matched Ginny’s as she doubled over, weak with laughter, trying but failing.
“Harry…”
“Say you’re sorry.”
Ginny’s grip weakened and her broom fell to the ground. Still, she looked up at him defiantly. “Never.”
“All right, then.”
His assault continued until Ginny could hardly breathe for laughing. He left his hands on her waist but ceased tickling her, and Ginny stood up straight again, still trying to catch her breath.
“You prat.” She raised her hand and swung it back again.
Harry caught her hand in his and kissed it. “Now, now… you wouldn’t want to be tickled again, would you?”
She smiled, then burst out laughing, and he kissed her on the mouth. Her arms wound themselves around his neck and he pulled her closer. Her mouth stayed resolutely closed, however, and he broke away, vaguely remembering something about a dislike of public displays of affection.
“Oh””
Ginny’s gasp made him first look at her and then beside them. What he saw made his stomach drop.
Dean Thomas was standing two feet away, staring at the pair of them with an unreadable expression on his face. Harry stepped away from Ginny, flashes of the last few days of their break together running through his head.
“Ginny! Letter for you!”
Ginny ran down the Burrow steps into the kitchen, where Harry sat with Ron, Hermione, and the twins. She took her letter and stared at the return address. The color that had just been in her cheeks suddenly left, and she took a step backward.
“Gin? Are you okay?”
She nodded and slowly turned the letter over, sliding her finger under the flap to open it. She pulled out a letter and read it quickly.
“Who’s it from? What’s it say?” Ron demanded.
Ginny gave a sort of half-laugh, half-snort and tossed the letter down on the table.
“See for yourself.”
They each made a grab for the letter, but Harry reached it first.
Dear Ginny,
Happy Christmas. Hope your dinner was as good as mine was. Mum got the recipes out of Witch Weekly”she says they’re the best ever.
Witch Weekly sure made for interesting reading today, if you know what I mean. I guess you’ve already seen the cover of the magazine, so I’ll spare you the gory details.
I guess I always knew you were still in love with Potter. Hell, it wasn’t hard to see that he was in love with you. I just wish you had told me first, instead of letting me find out from some magazine.
I hope you two have as much fun as we had together.
Best,
Dean
Harry bit his lip and surveyed Dean warily. There had been awkward moments, uncomfortable glances, plenty of blushes, and quite a few head ducks since they had returned to school. But Dean had kept his distance”Ginny reported that he hadn’t said more than ten words to her since they had arrived back at Hogwarts two weeks ago.
The silence grew. Dean looked at the pair of them for a second longer, then nodded curtly. “Potter,” he said in a clipped voice. He paused a little before saying “Ginny,” then turned and disappeared into the crowd.
Harry watched Dean’s retreating back and breathed a sigh of relief, even though a horrible guilt was winding its way up to his heart. Ginny’s head dropped onto his shoulder.
“Oh, that was so awkward.”
“Tell me about it.”
Harry laughed breathlessly, taking her hand in his and stooping to pick up her broom. She elbowed him gently but didn’t say anything when he kept hold of it. Ginny felt that she had to remind him from time to time that she wasn’t completely helpless”that she could take care of herself. But Harry loved to play the gentleman. He opened doors for her, pulled out chairs for her, stood up when she entered the room, carried things for her... and loved it. Generally these courteous actions were rewarded with one of her marvelous smiles that he felt fairly certain only he was privileged enough to see. If he had to climb eight flights of stairs carrying twenty of her books just to receive one of those smiles, he would do it.
This time, however, she just grinned, and they made their way back to the castle through the waning crowd. Calls of “Good catch, Potter!” and “Nice job, Harry!” reached his ears and Ginny squeezed his hand.
“You reckon Seamus has got a party started already?” she asked as he pulled open the door to the Entrance Hall.
“Probably,” Harry replied, chuckling. “Seamus never misses an opportunity to throw a party.”
Ever since Fred and George had left, Seamus had taken over as resident Gryffindor party-thrower. McGonagall had had to visit Gryffindor tower on at least four occasions to tell them that it was too late to still be up and that they needed to be in bed.
“I suppose it’s the Irish in him,” said Ginny as they reached the first floor landing. “I hope he doesn’t spike the punch this time, though. The last thing we need is to get in trouble for drinking.”
“You sound like Hermione.”
She gave him a little shove. “Oh, shut up,” she huffed. “Anyway, it’s true.” She tossed her head, throwing her hair back, and Harry bit his tongue to point out the resemblance for a second time. He was fairly sure he was already bruised from the first. “McGonagall won’t be happy if she finds Seamus or Dean or, gods, Ron drunk off their arses in the middle of the common room.”
Grinning wryly, Harry elbowed her. “I notice you don’t include me on that list.”
She looked at him severely. “Well, I know you’re not that stupid enough to ever need to be on that list. D’you catch my drift?”
“Yes, Professor McGonagall, ma’am,” he said in falsetto, then jumped up to the next step to avoid another shove. As he did so, something rustled in his pocket. He stopped, momentarily puzzled, and reached inside his robes.
“What is it?” Ginny asked, stepping closer. Harry abandoned his pursuit for a second and kissed her on the forehead. Despite the blush that tinged her cheeks, she said “Well? What are you looking for?”
Harry’s fingers closed on a worn piece of parchment and he smiled.
Of course.
“Ginny…” he started, unsure of how to phrase his question. “Did Fred and George ever tell you about””
“Good job today, Harry!”
Harry jumped and twisted around. Neville Longbottom, red in the face and grinning, was taking the stairs two at a time to reach them
“I was just outside, at the lake, to see if any more numderods had popped up. But I still saw your catch”great job. You too, Ginny.”
“Thanks, Neville,” Ginny said, stepping down. “What was it you said you were looking for?”
Neville brightened and he held out his left hand. About ten small, puffed-out, wriggling green things the size of kidney beans sat in the palm.
“Numderods!” he said brightly. “They come to the surface of large bodies of water whenever they sense a sort of excitement in the air. Kind of like a reverse dementor.” He chuckled, then curled his fingers over the squirmy animals. “Anyway, I’m collecting them for Professor Sprout at the end of every Quidditch match. It’s kind of an outside project.”
“Good for you, Neville,” said Ginny, standing next to Harry and slowly trodding on his foot. He looked at her in bewilderment for a second, then understood what he was supposed to do.
“Oh”yeah,” he said. “That’s great, Neville.”
Neville grinned and shrugged. “It’s not a big deal.” But the smile on his face suggested that it was anything but not a big deal, and Harry suddenly felt a little surge of pride for Neville. He had really come into his own and was starting to give Hermione a run for her Galleons in Herbology.
“Sorry, but I’ve got to go,” said Neville, passing Harry and Ginny on the stairs. “I’ve got to get these things in some water.”
“Of course,” said Ginny, moving to the side of the staircase. “See you up there, Neville.”
“Bye!”
Neville’s robes disappeared by the time he reached the second floor. Ginny turned to face Harry.
“Er”Harry? Why are we still standing on the steps?”
Harry looked right and left to ensure that they really were alone and held out his hand. “Come with me. I want to show you something.”
She took his hand and tilted her head, still looking confused. “Where are we going?”
Barely able to keep the large grin off his face, Harry shrugged. “You’ll see.”
She giggled all the way up to the third floor and all the way down the corridor, only stopping when he came to a stop in front of the very familiar humpback witch.
“What is this?” she asked, with a querying look.
“Ginny…” he started again. “Did Fred and George ever tell you about a map of Hogwarts they nicked from Filch’s office?”
Looking even more perplexed than before, Ginny shook her head. “No.”
“Well… back in third year, when I couldn’t get into Hogsmeade… they decided to give it to me.”
Harry pulled the Marauder’s Map out of his pocket where it had rustled before.
“And what do you need with a map of Hogwarts?”
Shooting her a conspiratorial look, Harry pulled out his wand. “Trust me,” he said, “this isn’t any old map. Watch.”
He spread the Marauder’s Map out on the wall in front of them and tapped it with his wand.
“I solemnly swear that I am up to no good.”
Instead of watching the ink spread out over the map as he had seen it do so many times before, he watched Ginny’s face as it went from skeptical to puzzled to amazed. She grabbed the map out of Harry’s hands and brought it up to her face, and he laughed.
“This is amazing!” she breathed. “Amazing! Can you really see””
“Anyone you want to see,” Harry finished for her. He stepped close and tugged the map down. “See, there’s Filch on the seventh floor, and there’s Mrs. Norris near the Astronomy Tower. There’s Snape in the dungeons, and that’s McGonagall in her office.”
“And here we are,” she whispered, slowly tracing a finger over the parchment. Harry felt a blush start as he stared at their respective dots standing so close. He liked the way their names looked together.
“Oh…” Ginny’s eyes traveled from their dots to the witch, back to the map. “Is this a secret passageway?”
“Yeah,” said Harry. “And it takes us to””
“Hogsmeade,” she finished.
“Right into Honeydukes’ cellar.”
Visibly shocked, she turned to look at him. “No!”
“Yes.”
Something registered in her mind, and it showed on her face. “Of course,” she breathed. “Of course. That’s how Fred and George always managed to get their hands on all those sweets after Quidditch matches.”
“Because they knew how to get to Hogsmeade,” Harry supplied. “There’s a few more passageways, but this is the easiest.”
“And it’ll take us straight to Honeydukes?”
“Yeah.”
Ginny backed away, letting go of the map and pulling out her wand. “Well, what are you waiting for? Let’s go.”
“Wait,”he said, holding a hand on her arm. “This is very important.” He tapped the map and whispered “Mischief managed.”
Ginny’s mouth formed an ‘o’ as she watched the ink disappear. Laughing, Harry tucked the map back into his pocket. “Watch.” He tapped the witch’s hump and whispered “Dissendium,” then stood back as the hump opened.
Ginny ran forward to see the chute that led to the passageway. “Are we supposed to go down this?”
Harry nodded, then extended his arm. “Ladies first.”
He was almost positive that that comment was going to land him another swat on the shoulder, but Ginny kissed him instead. “This is so amazing,” she whispered, then hoisted herself into the hump and out of sight. Harry waited until he heard her feet hit the ground before he followed.
“Lumos.” Ginny’s wand tip ignited just as he landed, taking care not to trip over his Quidditch robes. The light caught the tips of her hair and the apples of her cheeks, making her look like an angel. “Come on,” she said, giggling. “Let’s go.” Her eyes were sparkling.
Harry grinned. “All right,” he said, sticking out his hand. Hers went into it at once, and he laced their fingers as they started walking.
***
“Won’t they notice that we’re the only Hogwarts students around?” Ginny asked quietly, looking over her shoulder at the Honeydukes owners standing behind the counter. They smiled and waved; Ginny, on the other hand, flushed red and turned into his shoulder. He chuckled, and felt her face burn even brighter through the wool of his Weasley sweater.
“And you call yourself a Gryffindor,” he chided, bending down to grab some more pumpkin pasties.
“How does this make me less of a Gryffindor?” she hissed, now bringing up her hand to hide her face from the kindly-looking owners.
“A real Gryffindor wouldn’t be worrying about the rules,” he teased, straightening back up.
“Oh, so I suppose Hermione isn’t a real Gryffindor then,” she whispered back, casting a fleeting glance back over her shoulder again.
“Would you stop worrying?” he said, not bothering to keep his voice down at all. “They get students in here all the time”just ask your brothers. It’s good for their business. Besides,” he continued, when she still wasn’t looking convinced, “if anyone that knows we’re not supposed to be in here was in here, we’d already be caught.”
“And how’s that?”
He tilted his head, considering, then grinned and tugged on one of her braids. “Well… it’s awfully hard to miss your hair.”
“Oh…” Ginny scowled, bringing her eyebrows together and crossing her arms. The door to the shop opened, however, and she dove behind a barrel of jelly slugs.
“Will you calm down?” Harry said, taking Ginny by the hand and pulling he out of her hiding place as an old witch and a little boy, most likely her grandson, walked by. “We’re not going to get into trouble.”
“Oh, that’s easy for you to say.” They walked up to the counter, Harry’s hands and shopping bag overflowing with candies. “You’ve been breaking rules ever since you got to this school.”
Harry smiled, remembering that very same line coming from someone he liked a lot less than he liked Ginny. “This coming from the girl who helped me break into Umbridge’s office last year.” Ginny’s head whipped around, and he smirked.
“That was different,” she said imperiously, taking a Cauldron Cake out of his hand and placing it on the counter. “You had to talk to Sirius. It was important.”
“As was hexing Malfoy.”
Ginny took another cake, clearly chagrined. “How else would we have gotten out of that damn office?”
“And how else would we have coerced Ron and Hermione to get over themselves?” said Harry, laughing. “Harry…” he continued, mimicking Ginny’s voice, “…we’ve got to do something. I say the next time they argue, let’s just shove them in a broom closet and let them work it out.”
Ginny pursed her lips, clearly trying not to smile. “Well, we didn’t end up shoving them in a broom closet, did we?”
“No. But I agree, the empty classroom was a much better idea.”
“That will be seven Galleons, three Sickles, dears.”
Harry jumped. He had completely forgotten about the Honeydukes owner standing in front of them at the counter. He gave a nervous little grin, his left hand coming up automatically and flattening his hair over his scar. The wizened witch only smiled kindly, however, and gave the barest of winks.
“Oh, Harry… it’s so expensive.”
Harry turned to Ginny and smiled. “Don’t worry about it.”
“I hate to make you pay for all of it, though…”
“Don’t worry. I’ll send a cup around the common room. If you eat, you pay.”
“You sound like Fred and George.”
“Well, I learned from the best.”
Harry reached inside his robes pocket and groped for the small moneybag he kept on him in case of emergencies. One never knew when one might have to make an unexpected Honeydukes run. Harry handed the gold to the witch, who in turn gave Harry and Ginny the bulging bags.
“Have a nice day, dears,” she said, then went to help another customer. Harry waited until she rounded the corner, then silently beckoned Ginny into the basement. Making their way down was a lot more difficult than going up had been, because this time their hands were full. They managed to make it to the trapdoor, however, and they slipped through without a sound.
***
“Ah, here’s the Seeker!”
Harry had just finished helping Ginny into the portrait hole when he found himself being dragged bodily into the common room. As he stumbled and eventually regained his footing, Seamus and Ron let go of his robes, both of them roaring with laughter. Ginny sidled over to the couch where Hermione sat, looking torn between amusement and disapproval. She smiled upon seeing Ginny, however, and the two of them burst into giggles.
Girls.
Harry shook his head and reached into the Honeydukes bag. “Chocolate frog, anyone?” he bellowed, launching the candy into the air. The noise level increased exponentially as students squabbled over who got what.
“Brilliant, Harry!” Seamus roared. He too dove into the Honeydukes bag. A few seconds later, he emerged, a pumpkin pasty clenched in his teeth and his hands full of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Beans.
“How did you do this?” cried George Billups, one of their new Chasers. He and fellow Chaser Samantha Vance were so covered in Gryffindor regalia that it was difficult to make out their Quidditch robes underneath.
“Oh, just one of those things, you know,” Harry said noncommittally, launching a Fizzing Whizbee into the air. Ron caught his eye, however, and the two of them burst out laughing. George and Samantha smiled and laughed as well, both reaching for a candy. When their hands brushed, both of them jumped back, as though stung. George’s face turned a bright kind of purple; he opened his mouth to speak but released a kind of mumble before turning on his heel and dashing away. Samantha sighed.
“Don’t worry!” Ron said, a little too loudly. “He may be stupid now, but just wait!”
Eyebrows raised, Samantha shot him a skeptical look before she too turned and disappeared into the crowd.
“You didn’t have to say anything, you know,” Harry said, having to raise his voice so Ron could hear him over the music.
“I was just trying to help,” he returned. Harry watched as his eyes flickered over to Hermione. “Apparently Fred and George sat Hermione down and gave her a talk about how I was a stupid prat, but I really did love her.”
As though Hermione could sense they were talking about her, her head turned and she smiled. Ron let out a little sigh that Harry was fairly sure he wasn’t supposed to hear and gave Hermione a wave. Instead of letting Ron realize he had heard the sigh, Harry waved as well. Ginny’s cheeks and hair glowed from the heat of the fire, and he was thinking about going over and persuading her to let it out of its braids when he felt a punch in the side.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were going to Honeydukes?” Ron said, digging his knuckles playfully into Harry’s ribs. Harry swatted his hand away.
“You were busy.”
“Busy?”
“With Hermione.”
Ron’s cheeks flushed a violent red again, and Harry patted him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, mate, it wasn’t anything I haven’t seen before.”
Harry ducked, laughing, as Ron launched a swing at his head. “Come on,” he pleaded, as Ron advanced again. “I want to go talk to Hermione.”
Ron fell back a step. “You talk to Hermione every day.”
“Not yet today, I haven’t.”
“Come on, mate! Stay a little while. Let’s play chess or something.”
Harry stood halfway in between the couch and Ron. As he turned back to look at Ron, he realized just how much Ron had come to resemble Fred and George. Harry looked around”he, Ron, Hermione, Seamus, Dean… they had all become the oldest students, without him even noticing. Harry remembered looking up to the sixth and seventh years in a kind of awe. They had always seemed so old, so untouchable in their mature and surely much more important preoccupations.
Harry glanced over his shoulder at Ginny. She had certainly taken a central role in his life… so much so that he had almost forgotten his friends. Harry shook himself a bit and headed back towards Ron.
“You all right, mate?” Ron asked, eyebrows raised.
Harry looked him in the eye. “We don’t spend as much time together as we used to, do we?”
Ron looked taken aback at the question. Then, something registering in his mind, he shook his head. “No, we don’t.”
Harry nodded. “We’ve got to change that.”
Ron nodded as well. “Yeah, we do.”
And as the pair of them sat in their armchairs by the fire, Harry knew no more words were needed. He and Ron were close enough that, sometimes, they weren’t needed.
***
A/N: Okay, readers. Here's the deal.
You give me reviews, so I love you. I give you a story, so I'm assuming you like me at least a little bit.
I welcome constructive criticism. How else am I going to get better? It's when I get reviews like "OMG I HATE YOU AND THIS STUPID STORY!" that I draw the line.
...not only is this not constructive, it's just plain dumb. And newsflash: it doesn't make me want to update any faster.
I've already got the first half of chapter seventeen written, and I'll try to post it before exams. I haven't given up on this story! Please don't give up on me. :)
You're supposed to
apologize, Potter. by CathCarl
Author's Notes:
Hello, dear readers. I come bearing chapter seventeen. I know that you've all waited quite a while, and I wanted to offer a few reasons for that.
The past few months have been rather busy, including (but not limited to): international travel, East coast travel, Southwest travel, AP tests, final exams, a fall down a flight of stairs, emergency room visits, multiple hospital stays, multiple surgeries, physical therapy, occupational therapy, and graduation.
I hate to keep everyone waiting for so long, but there it is. My life has been a complete whirlwind for the past few months, and I can't see anything changing that anytime soon. I'd like to take a moment to thank all my readers and reviewers- I'm not kidding when I say you make my day. This story has made me very happy for quite a while, and I'm glad it's made some of you happy, too.
That being said... I think it's officially time to announce an indefinite hiatus. I'm starting college in less than 2 weeks, and with everything that has happened in my life in the past three months, writing just can't fit on my plate. Perhaps you'll see me around sometime, though. I just can't leave this story hanging.
I hope you've enjoyed reading this as much as I've enjoyed writing it.
***
“Come on, Potter, up and at ‘em!”
Harry groaned.
“Get up, Potter!”
Harry groaned again.
“Potter, I’m warning you. Five more seconds…”
Harry rolled over and pressed his pillow into his ear.
“Four more seconds…three…two…one…. All right, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Harry felt the unfortunate rush of cold air envelop his legs as Ron pushed his covers away, and he contracted himself into a call. Muttering a soft curse to himself, he turned his head in what he assumed was Ron’s general direction. Opening his eyes wasn’t part of his plan at the moment. “You’re dead, Weasley.”
“And you’re here to make sure that that doesn’t happen. Come on, we’ve got practice in ten minutes.”
“Practice? Now?”
“I booked the pitch, remember?”
“No.”
“Oh. Bugger.” Harry could hear the grin in Ron’s voice. “Come on! We’ve got a Ravenclaw match in four weeks!”
“Ron, we just played a match yesterday.”
“And I want to go over it. What we did right, what we did wrong, what we did right that could have been done better.”
“You’re a maniac.”
“I learned from the best.”
“Fred and George hated morning practice more than I did.”
“I was referring to Charlie.”
“Oh.”
With much reluctance, Harry opened his eyes. Ron had wrenched open the curtains and light was pouring in, making the dormitory a much brighter place. Seamus Finnigan, however, was not looking very bright at the moment. He had just appeared beside Ron, looking fit to kill.
“Weasley?” he growled, his Irish accent thicker than ever in both tiredness and anger.
Barely biting back a grin, Ron turned. “What?”
“The next time you decide to have Quidditch practice on a Sunday morning, do us a favor, would you, and not broadcast it to the entire dormitory.”
“Here, here!” came Neville’s groggy voice from behind the curtains on his four poster, and Harry couldn’t help laughing. Seamus turned on his heel and stalked back to his bed.
“I’ve got Samantha Vance telling Ginny, and I’m leaving now to tell George, Colin, and Dennis. Get your arse out of bed and down on the pitch.”
“Aye, aye, Captain.”
Ron strode out of the dormitory. Harry was tempted to shut the curtains and fall back asleep, but he knew Ron would kill him if he missed practice in favor of a few hours’ sleep… even if it was Sunday morning.
***
Harry nearly ran through the dark Hogwarts halls. Even the majority of the portraits were still asleep. He finally reached the Entrance Hall, however, and he pulled open the heavy oak front door. The frigid January air woke him up immediately after he stepped outside. Drawing his cloak more closely around his shoulders, Harry set off for the changing rooms. The cold ground beneath his feet crunched slightly as he walked. Harry threw his head back, his nostrils burning as the cold air rushed inside. When he reached the changing rooms, he yanked the door open, grateful to get inside. Cold stone walls greeted him, but at least it was out of the wind. Ron stood at the front, absorbed in his own thoughts and something that unfortunately resembled a Quidditch diagram. Ginny and Samantha were standing close together near one of the tables”Ginny held a jar of bluebell flames, and Samantha was warming her hands beside it.
“Hermione taught me how to do it,” Ginny mumbled, as Harry went over to her and kissed her on the cheek.
“That’s really cool,” he said. “Hey, Samantha.”
“Hi, Harry.” The pretty third year smiled at him and shifted her hands around the fire. Harry put his arm around Ginny and she laid her head down on his shoulder just as the door opened. George Billups and Colin and Dennis Creevey spilled inside, looking very windswept. Samantha took in a sharp breath, and she blushed furiously. Remembering yesterday’s encounter at the punchbowl, Harry nudged Ginny and shot a glance at Samantha and then George. She nudged him back, grinning.
“All right, everyone, now that we’re all here, let’s talk strategy for a little while.” Ron stood at the front of the changing room, very much looking the part of Quidditch captain. Harry even caught a glimmer in Ron’s eye that reminisced of Oliver Wood. A small smile came over his face as he remembered the bloke who first taught him how to play Quidditch.
“Now, yesterday’s match was great. Really great. But there are still some things we need to work on.”
Ron pulled out diagrams from behind one of the benches. Only halfway groaning along with the rest of the team”Ron would be hurt if he did and Ginny would laugh at him if he didn’t, so he met them both halfway”Harry remembered Oliver’s early morning tactical talks with less fondness than he did everything else. Dennis sat forward and sank his chin into his hand, and Colin looked ready to fall off the bench.
“Ron, it’s six thirty in the morning,” said Ginny, yawning. “Is this really necessary?”
“Is this really necessary?” Ron repeated scathingly. “Is this really necessary?” Of course it’s necessary. You don’t want to lose to Ravenclaw, do you? You don’t want to lose the Cup, do you?”
“Of course I don’t want to lose to Ravenclaw,” Ginny reasoned. “But if I’m too sleep-deprived, that’s what’s going to happen.”
George snorted. Ron glared at him.
“Arguing will get you nowhere, little one,” he said imperiously to Ginny, now acting more like older brother than Quidditch Captain. Ginny shot him a look and crossed her arms.
“Fine,” she said.
Ron launched into his tactical commentary, picking yesterday’s game apart bit by bit. Feeling himself inch closer and closer towards sleep as the talks went on, Harry shook himself and sat up straight. Ginny scooted closer and put her head on his shoulder once again. Ron pulled out another chart and spoke to Colin and Dennis about their beating game. He didn’t have much to say. It was a good choice on Ron’s part, Harry noted, to have a set of brothers as Beaters. Much like Fred and George Weasley, Colin and Dennis Creevey seemed to have a kind of sixth sense in regards to each other. Oftentimes, both in practice and during games, Harry would see one of them make a seemingly wild shot, only to have the other appear seconds later to assist.
Proudly displaying another chart, Ron went into another diatribe, this time for the Chasers, and Harry felt his eyelids drifting shut again. He had been on a Quidditch team long enough to know what he was doing wrong and what he was doing right, and he knew that yesterday hadn’t exactly been his best catch. But he had only ever lost one Quidditch match in his entire life, and if he could still have enough sense to get the Snitch even with his girlfriend on the team, Harry figured he was doing just fine.
“All right, now that that’s over with, let’s get outside.”
Harry shifted slightly to see whether or not Ginny was still awake. As he had expected, her eyes were closed and her mouth hung open. Bringing his hand up to her face, he let his fingers trail over her cheek.
“Ginny,” he whispered. “Wake up.”
She turned closer to him in her sleep and buried her head closer into his shoulder and neck. A tinge claimed his cheeks and he cast a wary glance at Ron.
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” Ron said, showing off one of his phrases that he had learned from Hermione, “get up.” He grabbed Ginny’s hand and pulled. Ginny’s eyes snapped open and she stumbled, grabbing onto Ron for support.
“You prat.” Her voice cracked with sleep, but he stood up and stretched her arms above her head. “I was deep in concentration.”
“Yeah,” said Ron. “You were concentrating on the inside of your eyelids.”
“They were very interesting.”
“Hmph.”
Ron, Harry, and Ginny walked out to the pitch with the rest of the team and immediately got into the air. The sun had come up over the grounds now, and Harry relished its warmth. It was still plenty cold out, but at least with the sun it wasn’t frigid. Ron had new drills that he wanted Colin and Dennis to run with Samantha, George, and Ginny, so Harry really had very little to do. He watched Ron release the Snitch, gave it a minute’s head start, and zoomed off after it. He caught it a few minutes later, in an area that wasn’t quite in bounds, but would nevertheless suffice.
“POTTER!” Ron bellowed from halfway down the pitch. “STAY IN BOUNDS NEXT TIME, OR ELSE!”
“OR ELSE WHAT?” Harry yelled back, then wished he hadn’t. He really didn’t want to know. Ron made a violent motion with his hand, and Harry looked away, pretending he hadn’t seen it.
He released the Snitch, this time trying to keep his eye on it before it disappeared. It seemed to realize he was doing this, however, and zoomed straight upward and out of sight. Harry circled the pitch, occasionally checking the progress of the drill. He smiled”the team was good. Colin and Dennis may not have been the strongest, but they played well off each other. George and Samantha had been extremely good finds of Ron. The two melded well together with Ginny. Harry sat back on his broom for a second, watching the three of them as they flew according to Ron’s positioning. Ginny was at the head for a second, but then fell back quickly, dropping the Quaffle to Samantha. George took Samantha’s place a second later… Harry smiled when he realized that George was having the same problem he was on the pitch. Both of them were having trouble keeping their eyes off certain girls. Harry had half a mind to joke about it with Ron”two couples on one team was rather amusing, after all”but he doubted Ron would find it funny…
“Harry, look out!”
Harry barely had time to look around before a blinding, splitting pain exploded in his left shoulder. He careened off course, whipping around in circles, completely out of control of his broom.
The world became very bright, then very dark, then slowly grew fuzzy. Objects slid in and out of focus. He recognized Ron speeding towards him, and Ginny, but his vision was starting to grey. He felt himself tilting sideways… he realized that maybe it would be a good idea to stop himself from falling, but he didn’t remember exactly how.
Hitting the ground wasn’t really as painful as it could have been. The pain in his arm suddenly seemed less intense compared to the newer, sharper pain in his leg. It was probably broken. Harry tried to touch it, realized he couldn’t move his left arm, and groaned.
Probably not a good sign.
“Harry! Harry! Are you all right?”
Ron’s voice penetrated the hazy fog surrounding his brain, and Harry tried to think of something resembling an answer but could only mumble something incoherent. The ground shook as Ron landed on the ground, followed by the rest of the team. Ron said something more, but Harry didn’t fully understand. He had just registered Ginny’s worried face in front of his before the world went black.
***
“Harry.”
“I am an amazing bouncing ferret.”
“Harry.”
“No, thank you, but I don’t want a Cockroach Cluster.”
“Harry.”
“I want to go splash in the springtime rain puddles.”
“Harry, it’s January. Wake up.”
Harry opened his eyes, smiling vacantly. His head was woozy”he felt like it was detached from his body”but it was a very nice feeling. The bed was soft and his pillow was soft and the sunlight was pretty and everything was so warm and there was Ginny…
Ginny. Ginny, Ginny, Ginny. His Ginny. His pretty Ginny. She was pretty. She was nice, too.
“Hi,” he said. “You’re pretty.”
Ginny smiled and he laughed, because she had a pretty smile and he wanted her to do it again.
“You’re really pretty.”
“And you’re really pretty out of it.”
Harry didn’t understand. Out of it? He wasn’t out of it. He felt absolutely lovely. He should feel like this more often.
I’ll get the hallucinogens.
“Harry… are you okay?”
That was Ron. Ron, his best friend. Ron was nice, too.
“You’re Ron. You’re my best friend in the whole wide world.”
Ron’s eyebrows went all funny, and Harry laughed, because it looked like Ron didn’t have any eyebrows anymore, and that was funny, because people were supposed to have eyebrows.
“You don’t have eyebrows anymore,” he chortled. Ron’s eyebrows went even funnier, and Harry snorted.
“We should tell Madame Pomfrey that he’s up.”
That was Hermione! Harry laughed. This was just the best day.
“Hi!” he said. He scrutinized her face. “You’ve got eyebrows.”
And then her eyebrows went all funny, just like Ron’s had, and Harry laughed some more.
“Yes, Harry, I’ve got eyebrows.”
“You should have eyebrows. Ron doesn’t have eyebrows. He looks funny.”
“I do so have eyebrows, mate. Look.” Ron pulled back his hair and pointed, and Harry saw that his eyebrows really were there, and it wasn’t so funny anymore. He stopped laughing.
“Oh.”
“Oh, Mr. Potter, you’re up.”
Harry looked at Madame Pomfrey and wrinkled his nose.
“You’re not pretty.”
Madame Pomfrey was setting a bunch of bottles next to his bed. She was boring. He wanted to look at Ginny instead.
Ginny was blushing. She was pretty when she blushed. And her lips were moving and she was talking to Madame Pomfrey, but Harry couldn’t really understand what she was saying because she was talking rather fast. He watched her mouth instead.
She had a pretty mouth. He wanted to kiss her.
“I want to kiss you.”
Ginny blushed again. She was pretty when she blushed. But then she brought a hand up to her face, and Harry didn’t like that, because then he couldn’t see her blush anymore. He could still see her lips, though, so they would have to do.
“”so sorry, he’s really out of it””
The birds outside his window were singing a lovely tune. Harry tried to hum along.
“Hmm, hmm, hmm, hmmmmm, doo doo doo dooooooo.”
Harry heard a noise and saw Hermione turn her head into Ron’s chest, her shoulders shaking.
“Don’t cry, Hermione,” he said. “I’m fine.”
Hermione’s shoulders shook even harder. Ron’s shoulders began to shake, too.
“I’m fine,” said Harry, looking at Ginny. “I’m fine.”
“I know,” Ginny said. “We all do.” Her voice was all funny, and then her shoulders started shaking too! Harry was happy that his friends liked him so much, but they didn’t have to cry about it.
The madness.
Madame Pomfrey was the only one of them who wasn’t crying, because her shoulders weren’t shaking at all.
“In case you couldn’t tell, the painkillers have a few, ah, altering effects…”
The bed really was very warm. It was soft, too, and it made Harry feel sleepy.
“He’ll be all right, won’t he?”
The pillow was soft, too. Soft like Ginny’s hair. Harry reached out a hand so he could feel it.
“Harry, stop it.”
“But it’s shiny.”
Ginny stood up, so he couldn’t touch her hair anymore. But that was all right, because he felt lovely and warm and comfortable in his bed.
“He’ll be perfectly fine. His behavior will be a tad strange until the medicine wears off, but he’ll be back in the common room by tomorrow morning.”
“He won’t…remember any of this, will he?”
Madame Pomfrey laughed. Harry looked behind his bed to see what she was laughing at.
“No, dear, he won’t remember. At least not everything.”
She turned and left. Harry was glad. He wanted to talk to Ginny.
“She’s not as pretty as you are.”
Ginny smiled, and he smiled. She turned around to talk to Ron and Hermione.
“Hey, look away for a second, all right?”
Harry didn’t understand. Why did Ron and Hermione need to look away? There wasn’t a secret or anything”
Oh. Well, that was nice.
But while she was kissing him, her nose brushed his nose and he jumped.
“Ow!”
“What’s wrong?”
“My nose. It hurts. I think it’s broke.”
“You mean you think it’s broken.”
“No, I mean I think it’s broke. Because I broke it.”
“But Harry””
“Would you still love me with a broke nose?
Ginny looked at Ron and Hermione, then bent down close to his ear. Her breath tickled his skin, and Harry grinned.
“Darling,” she whispered. “I’d love you even if you didn’t have a nose.”
“Oh. Well that’s good.”
Laughing, she nodded. “Yeah, that’s good.” And then she kissed him again.
“I’m going to bed,” he announced when she stood up. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
“But Harry, it is the morning”“
“And you’ve got to take your medicine!”
But Harry closed his eyes and fell asleep.
***
Harry was walking along a long corridor. His head no longer felt woozy”he was wide awake and alert, but he found himself wishing longingly for his altered state of mind, because then he wouldn’t have to think about the fact that the last time he had a dream about a long corridor with a locked door it had ended in the death of his godfather…
A noise to his right made Harry reach for his wand, but he couldn’t feel it. Wondering why on earth he would go anywhere without his wand, Harry flattened himself against the all and headed towards the sound.
Suddenly, a flash of pain ran through his scar, and Harry gasped. He reached his hand up to press it to his forehead. Puzzled, he thought. It wasn’t the pain that bothered him”over the years, he had grown used to his forehead aching”but he hadn’t felt pain in his scar for close to a year now. Why would it suddenly start up again? And was his scar hurting him in the dream or in real life?
The same noise came again, and Harry quickly dropped his line of thought. Taking care not to make any noise with his trainers on the squeaky-clean floor, Harry took a step towards the nearest door.
“”shall do as I say.”
With a sickening thrill of recognition, Harry inched closer. He knew that voice.
“Why should I? The Dark Lord hasn’t given you any kind of special status”“
The sick feeling in his stomach churned. Harry knew this voice, too, although he wished with every living daydream that she had never come to exist…
“Will you be quiet?”
“No one is going to hear us.”
“I would have thought, Bellatrix, that many years of practicing the Dark Arts would have taught you something about subtlety. Clearly, I was wrong.”
“We can’t all be Potions professors like you, Snape. Tell me, are you still terrifying first years with your speeches on subtle fumes?”
“What I do with my students is no business of yours.”
“Careful now, Snape, it sounds like you’re talking in a trashy romance novel.”
“How dare you say things like that, you insolent little”“
“Silence.”
An unpleasant shiver ran down Harry’s spine and gooseflesh rose on his skin. He knew that voice as well… the voice that plagued his nightmares…
Cloaks rustled as Severus Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange bowed to their abominable Lord.
“My Lord,” came Snape’s oily voice. Bellatrix’s greeting followed, and Harry could imagine what they were doing, because he had seen the way Death Eaters greeted Lord Voldemort almost two years ago, in a deserted graveyard where Cedric Diggory had died.
“Severus. I trust you have had success?”
The silence that filled the air was painful, and Harry felt hatred course through his veins. He had always hated Snape, and Snape had always hated him, and here Snape was cavorting with Voldemort in God-knows-where…
“No, my Lord.”
“You have not been successful?”
“No, my Lord.”
“Severus, you know that I do not tolerate failure.”
“Yes, my Lord. I know that.”
“And you still have failed.”
“Bellatrix refuses to help, my Lord.”
Cloaks rustled again, and Harry heard something like a whimper.
Coward. Fiend. Wretch. Disgusting, horrible, abominable--
“Bella? You will not help Severus?”
“My Lord, I”“
“I do not want to hear excuses, Bella, I haven’t the time. Your lack of cooperation sickens me.”
“My Lord, I”“
“You will do as Severus instructs, Bella, or there will be consequences so dire that you will not know which way is up. Do you understand?”
“Yes, my Lord.”
Harry was breathing hard, trying to comprehend all he had just heard. Snape was planning something, and Bellatrix Lestrange was supposed to help him, but she didn’t want to… but what were they planning to do?
“I must leave. I have work to do. Severus, I trust Hogwarts is still in the same condition as it was when I last asked?”
“Yes, my Lord. No changes at all.”
The hatred pounded even harder in Harry’s blood. Dumbledore trusted Snape, but here he was reporting the state of Hogwarts to his unforgotten master….
“Good. Bella, come with me. We will further discuss your lack of cooperation.”
Bellatrix hesitated. “Yes, my Lord,” she finally whispered, a slight tremble in her voice. Harry barely had the time to feel a sick, savage sort of pleasure at the fact that she maybe was going to get exactly what she deserved before the door opened.
As the two figures walked through the door, Harry felt both fear and rage, but his feet were suddenly glued to the ground. His head began pounding, and the world was spinning, and he could not see anything in front of him and”
“Mr. Potter!”
Harry’s eyes snapped open. The blurred ceiling of the hospital wing greeted him. He was breathing hard, coated with sweat, and his forehead was pulsing with pain.
“Mr. Potter, are you all right?”
Harry took his eyes off the ceiling and tried to focus on Madame Pomfrey. He could just barely make out the outline of her face. She handed him his glasses, which he gratefully accepted.
“I had a bad dream.”
“You were yelling and clutching your scar.”
Trying to keep the disdain out of his voice, Harry said “Yeah, well, it’s happened before.”
“Did you see He Who Must Not Be Named?”
Her question threw what had just happened into sharp relief, and Harry realized just how much he didn’t want to answer any of it.
“I’m fine,” he lied. “Just a bad dream. I’ll go back to sleep now, thanks.”
“You’ll do no such thing. You’re going straight to the headmaster.”
“I…” Harry stalled. He didn’t want to talk to Dumbledore. He wracked his brains, trying to coax them into waking up and thinking of a good excuse why he shouldn’t have to leave the hospital wing.
“I… don’t want to bother him. This was nothing, really. Just a bad dream. I get them all the time.”
Her expression told him that he wasn’t a very good liar, but Harry still crossed his fingers and hoped.
Finally, she sighed. “All right, Mr. Potter. Have it your way. At least let me give you a potion for a dreamless sleep to get you through the rest of the night.”
Harry nodded, and she was up and back in a flash with a familiar-looking bottle. “I trust you remember how much, Mr. Potter?”
Nodding, Harry took the bottle and sank back onto his pillows.
“Good night, then.”
She left him to take his potion, but he set it on the bedside table. He needed to think; his mind was racing. Of course the dream wasn’t nothing, but Harry didn’t particularly want to try and explain what it did mean until he had processed it all himself. Lying to Madame Pomfrey about the dream wasn’t perhaps the smartest thing he had done that day, but it certainly wasn’t the stupidest, and it really was the expected course of action. She hadn’t really believed him, and he knew that she would eventually tell Dumbledore. But for now, he had the dark and the silence. To others, they might have invited sleep, but to Harry, they invited contemplation.
Where had he been? A corridor, with a door at the end. Had it been locked? He hadn’t checked. Harry repressed a shudder”the last long corridor with a locked door he had seen had been at the Department of Mysteries. But this corridor hasn’t looked like it belonged in the Ministry at all. Harry had never seen it before.
One thing that greatly relieved Harry was the fact that he had been in the dream as a complete outsider. His scar had burned and he had searched his own pocket for his wand”there was no way that he could have seen the dream while somehow invading Voldemort’s mind. He had been alone in the corridor, and he had heard….
Instinctively, Harry’s fists clenched. Two of the people he hated most in the entire world had been sitting in that room”Severus Snape and Bellatrix Lestrange. Snape had insisted that Bellatrix help him with something... but what?
And then Voldemort had entered. Harry felt no fear, only disgust and hatred. Voldemort had been… displeased. (Although, Harry reflected, had he ever really seen Voldemort in a state other than disappointment or anger?) Whatever Snape had been ordered to do, he hadn’t done it. Snape had tried to enlist Bellatrix, but she wasn’t helping either… what could Voldemort possibly need done that would involve both Snape and Bellatrix? Why would Snape need help specifically from her? Couldn’t he have gotten help from someone else, another Death Eater?
Harry knew that if he relayed all these questions to Dumbledore, the headmaster would just counter with something like “Perhaps Professor Snape is trying to delay a particularly nasty order by enlisting the help of a witch he knows is not especially fond of him.” Even though Dumbledore wasn’t even in the hospital wing, Harry still scowled. Snape was reporting to Voldemort about the state of Hogwarts, he himself had just heard it, and nothing Dumbledore could say would convince him that Snape was trustworthy.
Bellatrix had left with Voldemort, and then… nothing. Harry shut his eyes tight, going over the dream once more in his mind. The corridor, the voices, the conversation, Voldemort, and…nothing. Once again, he was left with only questions.
It really wasn’t worth it.
Harry sat up and uncorked the bottle of sleep potion. He downed it quickly and fell back onto his pillows, not even staying awake long enough to remove his glasses.
***
Harry awoke the next morning in a foul mood. His arm and shoulder were still terribly stiff, and it hurt to walk. Most unfortunately, however, Madame Pomfrey had emerged from her office as son as he attempted to let himself out of the hospital wing and had almost thrown a conniption fit until he got back into bed. He spent the day there, scowling at the ceiling and at Madame Pomfrey whenever she brought him another one of her foul potions. Neither Ron nor Hermione showed up, even during break time, and Ginny didn’t come to visit either.
All in all, Harry had had a very bad day, and his mood reflected it as he stomped his way to Gryffindor tower at seven o’clock that evening.
“Cornish pixie,” he said to the Fat Lady when he reached the Tower’s entrance.
“As you wish, dear,” she said in a rather slurred voice. Harry heard her feeble giggle as the portrait shut.
“Harry!”
He couldn’t even summon a smile as Ginny ran forward and wrapped her arms around him.
“Ow!” he exclaimed, jumping back and raising a hand up to his shoulder. “I just broke my shoulder, Ginny, honestly, and you have to go and hit it?”
He only felt a little bit guilty about his words, and it felt good to lash out when he had spent the entire day stewing in anger. Even though Ginny’s face was mingled surprise and guilt, Harry couldn’t stop the nasty little voice that reminded him that she hadn’t even visited him once today, and she hadn’t even remembered that he hurt his shoulder.
Oh, Potter, get over yourself.
Scowling yet again, he pushed his way past Ginny. “Forget it,” he muttered, heading for the table he had left his homework on earlier.
Ginny appeared at the table a few seconds later. “Are you… all right?” she asked tentatively.
“No, I’m not all right,” Harry said in a biting voice. Ginny flinched. “I just spent the entire day alone in the hospital wing, because apparently my best friends couldn’t even come and visit me. And I guess my girlfriend was just too busy.”
Ginny flinched again and moved to place her hand on his shoulder, but Harry jerked away. “Harry,” she began in a complacent voice, “we tried to get up to the hospital wing, but”“
“But what? Your busy schedules just called you away?” Harry barely even registered what was coming out of his mouth. It had been a long time since he had been angry and sarcastic like this, but he felt a burning satisfaction to release all his frustration. The words weren’t intended for Ginny, not really, but she was the one standing in front of him and he was on too much of a roll to stop and explain.
“I guess you had more important matters to attend to. Don’t worry, I was fine up there, with Madame Pomfrey harassing me ever five seconds about my dream, not to mention my broken shoulder and leg, which still hurt, by the way”“
“You had a dream?”
Breathless, Harry stopped short. He quickly backtracked and cursed himself silently”he had not intended to go this far. Ginny’s face was worried and inquisitive, but he didn’t want to answer her question.
“No.”
She wouldn’t believe it, of course. He wouldn’t have.
You always were a rotten liar.
Ginny’s mouth formed a hard line. “But Harry, you just said”“
“Forget what I just said.”
The line of her mouth was even thinner now, and her cheeks had started to go red. “No, I won’t forget it. You had a dream, didn’t you? About Voldemort?”
A thrill of sudden, unexpected fear ran up his spine, and Harry repressed a shudder. He didn’t want her to know about the dream”not because he wanted to keep a secret, but because she had already dealt with enough Dark business, and he didn’t want her to deal with any more. It was selfish of him, really”she was one of the only parts of his life that wasn’t touched by what he had to do with Voldemort, and he intended to keep it that way.
“It’s none of your business.”
Not a smart move, not a smart move, not a smart move”
“Oh, really?” Ginny’s face was far from being worried now; she looked livid. “It’s not my business?”
Harry paused momentarily”he hadn’t considered the fact that she might get angry.
Potter, Potter, Potter. You have so much to learn.
“Ginny”“
“No. Just stop. You know, Harry, sometimes I just get really sick of you.”
“Look, Gin, I…”
“You need to stop talking. I am going to the library. She went to the next table, shut four very heavy books, and heaved them into her arms. “Try to keep your eyebrows intact while I’m gone,” she spat back at him before turning and stomping out of the common room. The portrait opened again just as she was about to exit, however, and Hermione appeared in the common room. She nearly ran into Ginny as she walked in, and the two exchanged brief words before Ginny fled. Harry scowled. His shoulder was killing him, his leg was stiff, his head was pounding, he couldn’t stop thinking about that stupid dream, and now Ginny was mad at him.
Maybe she’d be a bit more understanding if you actually told her something.
“Hello,” Hermione said as she sat down. “Are you feeling better?”
“Not really,” Harry snapped. Hermione looked at him and arched an eyebrow, and he sank a little further into his chair. He was tired of always being so immature. “I’m sorry,” he groaned. “I don’t mean to be an arse.”
“At least you apologized. Which I suggest you go do to Ginny.” ?
“What, apologize?”
Hermione smirked. “Well, you could compliment her on her amazing eyebrows.”
Thoroughly confused, Harry stared at her. “What is it with the eyebrows? First Ginny, now you?”
“Do you really not remember?”
“Remember what?”
“Yesterday, in the hospital wing.”
Harry thought. “I remember… Quidditch practice. I got hit in the arm… and then I… woke up in the middle of the night. I can’t remember anything else.”
Except the dream.
Unexpected nervousness his him as Harry pushed aside all thoughts of the dream. He turned to examine the small hole in his jeans. “Was I… out of it?”
”That’s one way to put it,” said Hermione, smirking again.
“What did I… say?”
“Oh, the usual. You complimented Ginny and insulted Madame Pomfrey. You laughed at Ron because you thought he didn’t have any eyebrows, and complimented me because I did.”
“Why would I think Ron doesn’t have any eyebrows?”
“Because… I don’t know. Do you really not remember any of that?”
“No.”
“You told us you were an amazing bouncing ferret, and then you said you wanted to splash in the springtime rain puddles.”
“But it’s January.”
“Exactly.” Hermione looked like she was trying not to laugh. Harry could feel a blush start at the base of his chest, and he scowled again. The scowling was quickly interrupted, however, when he registered what Hermione had said.
“Hang on. ‘Amazing bouncing ferret.’ Wasn’t that”“
“Malfoy, Moody, or I guess I should say the imposter Moody, fourth year.” Hermione put her quill down and grinned. “One of his more shining personal moments, don’t you think?”
Fully grinning now, Harry nodded. “Definitely.”
“There it is,” said Hermione, pointing at his mouth. “A smile.”
“I smile,” Harry said defiantly.
“Sure you do. Now all you need to do is go smile at Ginny. Apologize. She’s in a right state.”
“Yeah, well, I was kind of an arse to her too.”
“Well that was obvious.”
Harry stood up and brushed off his robes. “What should I say?”
Hermione looked up at him from behind a book she had already pulled out, a pained expression on her face. “Harry, I coached you before. I’m not going to do it again. Figure it out for yourself.”
Harry took a deep breath. “Fine,” he said. Then, after steeling himself for what was surely going to be a very angry Ginny, he walked out of the portrait hole.
***
The halls were dimly lit and rather drafty, especially the passages used less frequently than others. Harry figured he could either have traveled the easy route to the library and be subjected to various whispers about why he was limping (even though walking was helping his leg loosen up, it still hurt to apply full pressure), or he could take the slightly longer but surely deserted path. Harry chose the latter.
The portraits along the more obscure passageways were few and far between. A small crowd of children surrounded a harried-looking Father Christmas…two middle-aged women jumped into a clear, blue lake…a Chaser tossed the Quaffle into the center hoop, the Keeper nowhere to be seen. Almost immediately after the Quidditch painting, a tapestry marked the end of the corridor. Thanks to the Marauder’s Map, however, Harry knew better”the tapestry hid the corridor leading to the library. Harry ducked behind it. The corridor was darker and colder than the main halls of the castle, but he didn’t particularly care. What he did care about, however, was proving difficult to focus on.
What in Merlin’s name was he supposed to say to Ginny? Apologizing was, of course, a given, but how was he supposed to go about that? What if he apologized and she asked “What for?” like he had heard Hermione do so many times to Ron? Would “I was a prat” be enough?
Or would she demand to know about the dream, too?
Harry shook his head and continued walking. His reasons for not wanting to tell anyone about the dream were selfish, he knew, but somehow he couldn’t make himself want to tell Ginny. He turned the corner with Ginny’s face in his mind, paying no attention to where he was putting his feet. Quite suddenly, he walked smack into a wall and stumbled backwards. He looked up, expecting to see the offending piece of stone, but instead saw a set of black robes, the sheen of blonde hair, and a prefect’s badge. Harry closed his eyes in silent horror.
Perhaps it’s not so much of a wall after all.
Draco Malfoy had recovered from his decidedly ungraceful stumble, throwing his shoulders back and tossing his head.
“Good Lord, Potter, are you such a barbarian that you don’t even look where you’re going?”
The air around them pounded with uncomfortable tension, and Harry wanted nothing more than to be done with it. He had bigger things to worry about.
Good manners dictated that he apologize and move on. Then again, ‘good manners’ reminded him of the Dursleys, and he wasn’t about to be polite to Malfoy. Harry decided on the next best course of action: walking away.
Malfoy’s indignant sputter echoed through the hallway, and Harry suppressed a snort. “You’re supposed to apologize, Potter,” Malfoy called to Harry’s back. Harry ignored him.
“I suppose you never had anyone to teach you about manners,” Malfoy continued. “Since you have no proper family.”
Hermione’s mantra”Ignore him, ignore him, ignore him”was ricocheting through his mind. Malfoy’s insults don’t mean anything. He’s a petty bastard.
“Did you like my mirror, Potter? At the Quidditch match? It’s Pansy’s. Turns out she’s actually useful for something.”
Other than being a simpering idiot.
Insults lingered on the tip of Harry’s tongue, but he swallowed them. The end of the corridor was in sight; he could see another tapestry ten feet away. Just a few seconds longer, and he’d escape Malfoy and whatever childish jabs he could think of next.
A dark chuckle echoed ominously, sending an involuntary chill down Harry’s spine.
“He’s getting stronger, you know.”
Harry stopped dead.
“Every single day. He’s gained followers. Everyone is coming back.”
Harry didn’t have to turn around”he could hear the sneer in Malfoy’s voice and clearly imagine the gruesome look of victory that must be on his face. The conversation had quickly slipped from the ignorable world of petty, childish insults that did no harm to the very real world of good and evil that shaped his future and the world around him, a world that was capable of creating the worst possible harms.
Harry’s feet cemented themselves to the ground.
“Are you scared, Potter? You should be. He wants you dead. It’s only a matter of time before”“
“Shut your mouth.”
Harry’s words were quiet, and he hadn’t bothered to turn around. Malfoy laughed again.
“Why, Potter? Are you afraid of the big, bad Dark Lord”“
“Shut your mouth or I will do it for you.”
Harry realized that standing in a deserted corridor with his back turned to a known enemy was nothing short of idiocy. Basic dueling courtesy dictated that both opponents face each other and only begin after bowing, but Harry knew that Malfoy wasn’t above cheating in any situation. Not that it really mattered”he could out-duel Malfoy in ten seconds if he was forced to”but Harry didn’t want it to go that far. They weren’t eleven years old anymore”sending sparks at each other was a thing of the past. The threat of danger was more real than it had ever been. They both knew and were capable of using spells that could cause actual damage, and much as Harry hated Malfoy, he loved staying at Hogwarts more. He wasn’t about to get expelled for giving Malfoy exactly what he deserved.
Harry raised his wand. Malfoy’s sneer faltered slightly.
“Potter, you don’t scare me”“
“Silencio.”
Malfoy’s mouth continued to move; he hadn’t even noticed what spell Harry had used. After a few seconds of speech, however, Malfoy seemed to realize that even though he was speaking, nothing was being said. His mouth shut, then opened again. A dark glower overtook his face, and Harry could see his lips form the words “You bastard,” but he didn’t care.
“Have a nice night, Malfoy,” Harry said, then turned and exited into the corridor. Then, for the second time that night, he ran straight into another person. His mouth opened automatically to apologize, but the words died in his throat as he looked up.
Snape was staring down his hooked nose at Harry, a look of utmost displeasure on his face. “Potter,” he drawled slowly. “What a most unpleasant surprise.”
Yeah, this is just dandy, isn’t it? Care for some tea?
Harry gritted his teeth. “I’m sorry, sir,” he said. “I didn’t see you.”
“That,” Snape sneered, “is evident.”
After a few awkward seconds, Harry cleared his throat. “Excuse me, sir, I’m just going to the library”“
“I see no study materials.”
Harry faltered”his bag was on the floor of the Gryffindor common room. He didn’t have so much as a quill on him. He quickly thought of an excuse.
“I was… going to pick up a book. For an essay. A Transfiguration essay.”
Snape smirked. “Potter, when will you realize that you are physically incapable of telling a believable lie?”
He’s got a point, you know.
Harry glared at Snape and pushed past him anyway. “Excuse me, sir…”
“Potter, where do you think you are going?”
Forcing himself to remain polite, Harry answered “The library, sir.”
“I think not. You are coming with me.”
Going anywhere with Snape was most definitely not on Harry’s agenda for the evening.
“Why?”
“Why, sir?”
Gritting his teeth again, Harry repeated Snape. “Why, sir?”
“We are going to see the headmaster about your…” Snape gestured with his hands, “…dream. Madame Pomfrey was most kind in telling us all about it this morning.” Snape strode toward Harry and bent down, speaking softly. “The headmaster’s office. Go.”
Harry didn’t move. He glared at Snape for all he was worth”if he wasn’t willing to talk about the dream with Dumbledore, he certainly wasn’t going to talk about it with Snape present.
Especially since he’s one of the main characters.
“I need to go to the library, sir.”
Snape’s eyes flashed. “Ten points from Gryffindor for disobeying a direct order.”
Harry stayed where he was.
“Twenty.”
Harry crossed his arms.
“Thirty.”
Harry tapped his foot.
“Forty.”
Snape’s face was red with anger. He stepped forward, teeth bared, and gripped Harry’s arm. “The headmaster’s office,” he growled in Harry’s ear. “Move. Now.”
With nothing but hatred and contempt for the pathetic waste of a man standing next to him, Harry wrenched his arm out of Snape’s grip. He cast one last, longing look at the library door before he turned and stalked down the corridor, Snape following in his wake.
***
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.