Summary: The wedding of Bill and Fleur has arrived after weeks of painful memories and self-blame for Harry. Friendship, patience and love are tested as tensions run high after 6th year. How is Harry going to cope with his break-up with Ginny? Especially with so much love in the air...
Categories: Harry/Ginny Characters: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: Series: None
Chapters: 3
Completed: Yes
Word count: 6157
Read: 7961
Published: 02/14/06
Updated: 03/14/06
1. Resolutions by hattiepotter
2. Questions by hattiepotter
3. Destiny by hattiepotter
Resolutions by hattiepotter
Four, long weeks had passed since it had happened. Four terrible, agonising weeks, spent trying to work out why. Why had Albus Dumbledore let himself be murdered so brutally? How could he have left the world at the time it needed him most?
Harry sighed. And when will the pain go away?
He heard the doorbell ring downstairs “ probably one of Dudley’s gang looking for some of Aunt Petunia’s prize-winning Eccles Cakes; but Harry was surprised to find that, a few moments later, the door to his bedroom opened and in walked Arthur Weasley.
“Good to see you, Harry,” he said cheerily. “Time to go.”
Harry stared.
“Go?”
“Yes, Harry,” said Mr Weasley, looking at him strangely. “Time to go.”
“Go where?” asked Harry.
“Didn’t you get a letter from Ron?”
Harry shook his head. Since Ron had heard about how Harry had broken up with Ginny, letters from him had been rather few and far between.
“Ah well,” said Mr Weasley, looking slightly unsettled. “You’re coming to the wedding with us. It’s not for another few days yet, but we’re heading over there early to get everything ready. Let’s get you packed.”
He waved his wand and Harry’s trunk packed itself promptly and neatly. Mr Weasley took the handle.
“Off we go,” he said, taking Harry’s arm in a strong grip. “One, two, three “ “
Harry felt the slightly nauseating feeling of Side-Along Apparition, which lasted a few seconds, then left him standing in the kitchen of the Burrow.
“Come on!” Mr Weasley shouted up the stairs. “We’re going!”
There were heavy footsteps on the stairs, then Ginny appeared at the bottom, not noticing Harry until she was inches from him. They looked at each other for a few seconds; her expression was completely unreadable, as was her voice.
“Hello, Harry,” she said.
“Hi, Ginny,” replied Harry, sensing the atmosphere in the room tense painfully. “Good summer?”
“Fine,” said Ginny simply.
The moment ended as two more sets of feet reached the foot of the stairs.
“Harry!” said Hermione brightly, giving him a swift kiss on the cheek. “It’s so good to see you!”
Harry looked to Ron, but his friend merely said: “Let’s go,” to his father.
Harry glanced at Ginny, who looked from him, to Ron, and sighed.
“Where’s the wedding?” asked Harry, trying to make conversation out of an awkward silence.
“Hasn’t Ron told you anything?” asked Mr Weasley, and Harry saw Ginny glare at Ron. “We’re going to France! The wedding’s in Provence!”
Hermione grinned.
“It’s an awfully nice region on the Mediterranean Coast!” she explained excitedly. “The south of France is really beautiful “ just like Italy, it is “ “
“I think we’ve heard this all before, Hermione,” groaned Ron, catching Harry’s eye, and for a moment Harry thought that they might share a smirk on Hermione’s behalf, but Ron turned away quickly when he realised that he was angry with Harry.
“We’ve paid to join the French Floo Network for five trips to France,” Mr Weasley explained to Harry. “Molly’s already there and the others will be arriving in the next few days.
“Now,” he said to the four of them, “the house we’re going to is called Lou Bosco…”
When it was Harry’s turn to go, he called his destination and anticipated his arrival with impatience: he had never had the chance to go abroad before “ the Dursleys never took him anywhere. The Mediterranean sounded like Paradise compared to grey, old England. Once he had stopped spinning, Harry replaced his glasses on his nose and looked around. He and Hermione “ who had eagerly volunteered to go first “ seemed to be in an old-fashioned drawing room, with an age-worn grand piano and chairs which looked like antiques that had been reupholstered to their former glory.
“Mrs Weasley! Mrs Weasley!” they heard a throaty French woman call from another room. “Votre famille arrivent quand, exactement? Parce que “ “
“For goodness sake!” interrupted Ms Weasley’s frustrated tones. “I don’t speak French! I can’t understand a word you’re saying!”
By now, the three Weasleys had spun out of the fire behind Harry and were searching for the source of the noise. The door opened sharply and Mrs Weasley bustled in.
“Oh, thank goodness you’re here!” she said, hugging each of them in turn. “Giselle keeps hassling me about my famille, and she’s dying to meet you, Harry; keeps asking about ze boy oo leeved.”
She ushered them out of the drawing room and they found themselves in an elegant entrance hall, with a detailed painted ceiling and intricately carved, wooden banisters on the staircase. A tall, slender figure with a long mane of shimmering, silver hair glided out of a doorway on the other side of the hall. She looked exactly like Fleur, only her blue eyes were flecked with sparkling grey and there was more age behind them.
“Monsieur-dames,” she said to the new arrivals. “Je m’appelle Giselle Delacour, la mère de Fleur et Gabrielle. »
“Bonjour, madame,” said Hermione, after a short pause.
Ginny wrinkled her nose and jabbed Ron with her elbow “ he had been halfway into an elaborate bow before Ginny brought him to his sense. Harry tried not to gape, but if Fleur’s grandmother was a Veela, her mother was half-Veela, and therefore twice as enchanting as her daughter.
“S’il vous plait,” said Giselle, and Mrs Weasley scowled, “vos chambres…”
Fleur’s mother floated over to the staircase, but only Hermione followed her.
“Come on!” she hissed to the others. “She’s going to show is our bedrooms!”
They all traipsed up the stairs after the silk gown of Mrs Delacour “ all except Mrs Weasley who muttered something and disappeared “ dragging their cases behind them, until they got to a long landing, stretching to the left and right at the top.
“Monsieur Weasley,” she gestured to the room at the end of the corridor on her left.
“Er “ merci,” said Mr Weasley, in an embarrassingly English accent. “I’ll see you lot later,” and he hurried off down the hall.
“Les filles,” said Giselle, turning to her right and walking to the first door on the right, “et les garcons,” she gestured to the room opposite it.
“Merci, madame,” said Hermione, putting in a little more effort then Mr Weasley had on her pronunciation.
Giselle inclined her head slightly to Hermione, cast a disapproving glance at Ginny “ who was scowling like her mother “ then returned to the staircase and descended.
“God, would it kill her to speak in English?” burst out Ginny, as soon as Giselle was out of ear-shot.
“Maybe she can’t,” said Hermione, “and how is she to know that we can’t speak French?”
“You’d think the blank face might give it away,” said Ginny, “and you’re not helping with all you ‘bonjour’s and ‘merci’s.”
“I was only trying to be polite,” said Hermione briskly.
An awkward silence ensued.
“Shall we “ er “ go and unpack?” said Harry tentatively, picking up his trunk and opening the door to his and Ron’s room.
Hermione nodded quickly and disappeared into the other room, closely followed by Ginny.
Harry and Ron’s room was a rather vulgar green colour with two single beds and an old mahogany wardrobe. Sunlight streamed through the window at the far end of the room, through which Harry could see a large expanse of grass.
Ron claimed the bed nearest the door and began to take his things out of his case in silence.
“So…” began Harry, sitting on his own bed, “… good summer, so far?”
“It was all right,” mumbled Ron, with a shrug.
“Look,” said Harry, “I’m sorry about breaking it off with Ginny, but I was only trying to protect her “ “
“If you’d have wanted to protect her, you wouldn’t have used her the way you did!” Ron retaliated.
“Used her?” spluttered Harry, unable to believe what he was hearing.
“Yeah! Used her!” yelled Ron. “You were going through a rough patch and you needed some comfort, then, when you decide you’ve had enough, you ditch her “ “
“I DID NOT USE HER!” shouted Harry, pulling out his wand.
“What the hell is going on?”
Ginny was standing in the doorway, her red hair crackling with electricity, Hermione just behind her. Harry pocketed his wand embarrassedly but did not take his narrow-eyed glare off Ron.
“Nothing,” muttered Ron.
“Nothing?” asked Ginny, her eyebrows raised.
“It doesn’t matter,” said Harry, “it doesn’t concern you.”
“If you think for one moment that I’m going to believe that, you’ve got another thing coming,” said Ginny, a pang of her mother’s scold in her voice.
“Harry?” asked Hermione cautiously. “Ron?”
Ginny sighed. “I can’t be doing with this,” she said, and she turned to leave the room.
“Yeah, stay away from him,” murmured Ron under his breath.
Ginny stopped abruptly and turned.
“Pardon me?” she asked her brother dangerously.
“He’s not worth it,” said Ron, without looking at Harry.
“Ron, don’t be ridiculous,” snapped Hermione. “You’re not thinking straight.
“No, Hermione, he’s right,” said Harry, staring at Ron. “It was stupid of me to break up with Ginny. The right thing to do would have been to keep her close to me, then perhaps she could die trying to defend me like everyone else I love has.”
These last words rang around the ugly green room like daggers.
Harry sat on the end of his bed and put his head in his hands. These were supposed to be their last few days in the sun together before the unthinkable that lay ahead, yet here they all were, fighting with each other.
“Harry,” said Ginny’s voice, much softer than before, “no one blames you for Dumbledore’s death.”
“I do,” said Harry, between the gap in his hands.
“You don’t have to face this alone,” said Hermione. “We said we’d stick by you through all of this and we meant every word of it… didn’t we, Ron?”
Harry looked up at Ron, who was staring at the floor. He nodded.
“This past month has been hard on all of us,” said Hermione quietly. “Please let’s not take it out on each other.”
Ron stood up. “Sorry,” he said, offering Harry his hand. Harry shook it and smiled at his friend.
“Want to take a tour of the house?” asked Ginny, gesturing out of the door.
“Better than sitting here all day,” said Harry, and he, Ron and Hermione followed her out of the room.
*
Harry couldn’t sleep that night, despite the resolution of his problems with Ron. He sat at the open window, watching the summer stars, as a warm breeze blew in from the Mediterranean beyond the nearby town. The fake Horcrux was in his hands again, and he turned it over and over on his palm with habitual fingers. Now and then he would open the locket, close it, put it round his neck, take it off, running everything over time and time again in his mind.
Getting up with the decision that a stroll might help him think, he crossed the room to the door and tiptoed out into the hall. He went down the stairs, got cold feet on the marble in the entrance hall and opened the front door, which wasn’t locked due to the house’s somewhat remote location. Harry inhaled deeply and padded out onto the soft, dewy grass. He wandered all the way round to the back of the house, where the moonlight was not in shadow, then looked up to one of the upstairs windows.
A silhouette, still and clear in the light from the night sky, was watching him. It wasn’t obvious who is was, but it was definitely a girl. Harry moved slightly so that he could see the lit side of her face, but she disappeared behind what Harry believed to be a sheet of red hair.
Please review! xxx
Questions by hattiepotter
“Wake up, boys!” Hermione’s voice shrilled, unwelcomed by Harry’s sleepy head.
“Go away, Hermione,” grumbled Ron from the bed next to Harry’s.
“You’ve got to get up! There’s shopping to do!”
Harry rubbed his eyes, found his glasses and blinked at the bright sunlight as Hermione wrenched back the curtains.
“Come on, Ron,” she said, shaking him vigorously.
“Why are you so awake?” croaked Ron.
“Who knows,” said a tossled-haired Ginny, appearing in the doorway. “I hardly slept a wink last night.”
She caught Harry’s eye, held it for a moment, then shuffled out of the room.
“See you downstairs!” said Hermione brightly, following Ginny out.
Ron sat up and stretched widely. “One day,” he said, “I will wait till she’s fast asleep, then I’ll jump on her… several times…”
At breakfast, they found out that today they would all be measured for new dress robes. Ron protested horribly, but Harry knew that “ when it came down to it “ Ron would much rather endure a morning being fitted for new ones than have to wear the frayed, lace-affair that he did for the Yule Ball.
They wandered down the hill to the town with Mrs Weasley, Giselle and Gabrielle leading the way; Giselle seemed to be having a one-sided conversation in French with Mrs Weasley, who was studiously ignoring her.
The town at the bottom of the hill was riddled with narrow, cobbled streets, with a bustling market stretching right through the centre. Stalls were piled high with aubergines, red peppers, garlic and onions and some of the biggest nectarines Harry had ever seen. Coming out on the other side of the market, they turned right into a shady alleyway and found themselves outside an expensive dress shop.
“Oh, Ron!” said Ginny, pointing at a manikin in the window which wore a frilly, yellow gown. “That’s almost as good as your last set!”
Harry smirked and followed her inside.
“Ah! Madame Delacour!” exclaimed the woman behind the counter when they entered.
Mrs Weasley turned over a price tag and gulped.
“You will find only ze finest silks in my shop, Madame,” the woman told her. “Madame Delacour wants nussing but ze very best for ‘er daughter.”
“Well if she’s paying, I don’t mind,” muttered Mrs Weasley.
They were all measured down to the last millimetre, then the woman disappeared into a backroom and appeared a moment later laden with five sets of dress robes. Giselle settled the bill and they left the shop, making their way back to the house as they munched on succulent nectarines from the market.
*
Dinner times were a confused affair at Lou Bosco; while the Weasleys went for large portions, comfort food and “ since they had arrived that afternoon “ undoubtedly some of Fred and George’s practical jokes, the Delacours preferred acquired tastes, delicacies and making sure the dessert cutlery was the correct way round. This therefore resulted in a table half-laden with big dishes of Mrs Weasley’s fantastic meals and half with ‘petites tartes flambées’ or ‘foie-gras’. Either way, however, the food was spectacular and by the end of this particular evening they were all comfortably full.
“It’s the perfect night for stargazing,” said Hermione, as they sat on the terrace at the back of the house.
“Come on, then,” said Ginny, jumping up.
Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny excused themselves from the table and wandered down the garden to the grass beyond the olive grove. Harry lay down on his back and tried not to react when Ginny lay next to him.
“Now, you see those three, bright stairs there?” said Hermione, from Harry’s other side. “That’s the Summer Triangle.”
“Thrilling,” mumbled Ron.
“it is if you can appreciate it, Ron,” said Hermione. “Can you make out the Swan? Just there…” She traced the constellation with her finger.
“Hey, Harry,” whispered Ginny. “You see those three stars there? That’s Smallus Triangulus.”
Harry snorted and Ginny giggled.
“What are you two finding so funny?” asked Ron.
“Oh, you couldn’t possibly appreciate it, Ronald,” said Ginny, leaning up on her elbow to look at her brother; Harry noticed her flowery scent waft over him and tried not to find it quite as relaxing as his body was telling him it was.
“Shooting star!” gasped Hermione, pointing up at the sky above her.
“I missed it!” moaned Ron.
“Oh, so you do want to see them, then?” asked Hermione.
Harry grinned; this was more like what he had imagined.
It was late when they finally got up to go to bed and Harry didn’t want the evening to end. He had spent most of it making up new constellations with Ginny and had laughed so much that it had been just like when they were together. Harry shook his head and reminded himself that it was for her own safety that they had broken up. You’re doing the right thing, he told himself.
He and Ron said ‘goodnight’ to the girls and climbed into their pyjamas.
“Harry?” muttered Ron, once they were in bed.
“Yeah?”
“You keep sighing,” said Ron.
“Oh,” said Harry, “sorry.”
*
More relatives from both families arrived during the next few days and, very soon, the day of the wedding was finally there. Harry and Ron “ along with Fred, George, Charlie and Mr Weasley “ were ushered off to the hotel where Bill was staying to get ready; apparently Giselle had taken the groom not seeing the bride on the morning of the wedding a bit far and hadn’t let Bill see Fleur for a whole week.
There were a few hours of waiting around once they were dressed, then:
“It’s here!” called Bill.
“What’s here?” asked Fred.
“The limo!” replied Bill, his scarred face smiling widely.
The Delacours had gone all out for this wedding “ Harry had expected that they would be travelling in one of the normal wizarding ways, but the limo was almost exactly like a Muggle one, apart from the levitating champagne bottle that filled their glasses up without them even lifting a finger. The church that it took them to was a highly decorated wonder to Harry’s eyes, which immediately compared the high ceiling inside to Hogwarts’ Great Hall.
It filled with guests “ including some members of the Order and other friends of Bill’s who Harry didn’t know “ over the next half an hour. Bill looked as handsome as his mangled face allowed, although Harry noticed that he had left in his fang earring and that his hair was catching up with the length of Ginny’s.
Finally, when everyone had been seated for at least ten minutes, a string quartet at the back of the church began to play. The doors opened and sunlight streamed in, making silhouettes of the four people who entered. As the bridal procession walked slowly up the aisle and closer to Harry, he saw Fleur, looking angelic in a pure white dress, a semi-see-through veil over her silvery hair and beautiful face. But when her and her father passed Harry, his attention turned completely to the girl behind her.
Ginny “ her long, red hair softly curled and half of it drawn back with a flower “ wore silk of shimmering gold and walked hand-in-hand with Gabrielle, who was dressed similarly. She caught Harry’s eye as she passed him and smiled “ Harry did his best to smile back, but was afraid that all he did was continue to gape.
The service washed over Harry in a kind of daze “ it being in French and all, but also because he had other things now constantly on his mind. He was still deep in thought as he swallowed the last mouthful of his dinner back at Lou Bosco. He dreamily took a sugared almond from the bowl in the middle of the table and crunched on it “ he didn’t really like them all that much, but he also didn’t want to free his mouth to talk to anyone right now.
He glanced up at the long table, at the centre of which sat Bill and Fleur and at the end of which sat Ginny, her face lit up with laughter. Harry got up and wandered out of the marquee where the tables had been set up in the garden. He walked away from the light of the garden candles and sat down at the foot of a tree, sighing deeply.
“Harry?” A shadow emerged in the dusky light. “Is that you?”
Hermione’s form came into better view as she moved closer. She looked rather pretty “ her hair was down but unusually straight and tame, leading Harry to suspect that copious amounts of that hair potion had been used again.
“Yeah, it’s me,” replied Harry.
Hermione sat down beside him and put a hand on his knee. They sat in silence for a few minutes, listening to the gentle jazz music playing inside the marquee.
“Harry, are you… are you sure you’ve made the right decision?” asked Hermione quietly.
“If you mean about me leaving Hogwarts, then “ “
“No, not that,” said Hermione quickly. “I mean… about Ginny…” Harry inhaled deeply. “It’s just… you were so much happier before you split up. Why let what you had go to waste?”
“It’s for the best,” said Harry, speaking aloud what he had been telling himself for weeks.
“Not necessarily,” whispered Hermione. “I can tell you still think about her.”
“No, I “ “ Harry was about to deny her claim, but stopped himself; it wasn’t going to make him feel better when he knew that it would be a lie and so would she.
“Come on, Harry,” said Hermione gently. “You’ve got enough to be worrying about without torturing yourself over this, as well.”
“Hermione, you’re the closest thing I have to a sister,” said Harry, “and I appreciate you trying to make this right, I really do, but… we’ll be better off if Ginny and I just stay friends, okay?”
Hermione looked at him closely for a moment, then nodded.
“Okay,” she said, “but, just so you know, I think you’re making a big mistake.”
Harry’s mind was telling him to be bitter about this “ to yell at Hermione that he knew what he was doing and that she should leave him alone “ but what he had said about appreciating her help was true and, not so deep down, he, too, felt that he was making a big mistake.
Hermione stood up. “Are you coming back to the party with me?” she said, offering him her hand.
Harry took it. “Thanks, Hermione.”
Coming up: Harry and Ginny were now the only people still sitting and “ though it pained him deeply “ Harry knew what he was obliged to do ...
A/N: This one is dedicated to Livs (There you are Peter), my greatest friend, with whom I have spent many a French holiday and who was with me at Lou Bosco when Smallus Triangulus was first invented. LOTS of fluffiness etc. coming up in Chapter 3. Please review with any comments! xxx
Author's Notes:
If you're sad that this is the last chapter, don't cry - wait a little tiny short while for the follow-up story to appear! I'm writing it right now! Hyped much?! I THINK SO! x x x
Harry returned to the party with Hermione and they sat and watched for a while as people started to get up and dance.
“I’m going to get a drink, anyone want one?” asked Ron, approaching them.
“What is there?” asked Hermione.
“Er…”
“Oh, I’ll come and choose,” she said, getting up. “Harry?”
“Um, no thanks.”
Ron and Hermione walked over to the drinks table together, then began to walk slowly around the edge of the dance floor. Harry thought he saw Ron blush slightly, but then Hermione took his hand, kissed him swiftly on the cheek and they looked at each other more profoundly than Harry had ever seen before.
“What’s up with them?”
Harry looked up as Ginny sat down in the chair next to him.
“I don’t know,” he said, “must be the romantic atmosphere.”
Ginny nodded quickly. “Yeah, that’ll be it…”
The music played on and Ron and Hermione began to dance, both looking more contented than Harry had seen either of them all year. Harry and Ginny were now the only people still sitting and “ though it pained him deeply “ Harry knew what he was obliged to do.
“Ginny?”
“Mm?”
Harry offered her his hand and she slid hers into it softly. They walked into a space on the dance floor and Harry took her waist as she put her arms around his neck, her sweet-smelling hair brushing his cheek ever so slightly.
It was like perfection confused with torture. Harry couldn’t bear it and couldn’t help loving it simultaneously. Suddenly, there was nothing in the world except her and this moment and the feeling of her fingers’ touch on the back of his neck; it was too much “
“Sorry,” he said, letting her go and turning away.
He fled the marquee and strode hurriedly across the candlelit garden, breathing heavily. He stopped in the middle of a circle of tiny, flickering flames and closed his eyes, trying to rid his mind of the immense longing that it had just been immersed in so deeply.
“Is that your way of telling me I’m a terrible dancer?”
Harry spun round and saw her standing a few feet from him. The void between them was broken only by the constant chirping of the cicadas and the soothing saxophone in the marquee.
“Ginny…“
He didn’t know what to say to her and all that followed was another silence.
“Harry, this is stupid.”
Silence.
“It’s like you’re giving yourself a ton of extra grief for no reason.”
“Except there is a reason, Gin,” replied Harry, trying to keep the tension from his voice.
“Oh, yes, sorry,” said Ginny, failing to do just that. “I forgot “ you want to protect me.”
“Well, isn’t that for the best?”
Ginny came closer to him.
“Harry, in some ways I love it that you want to do the ‘noble’ thing, but in others, it makes me want to hex you.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, the thing that you don’t seem to realise,” she said, coming closer still, “is that the noble thing would be to protect me by loving me like I know you do, not by pushing me away.”
Harry’s hand twitched slightly as Ginny’s fingers touched it gently, then slowly intertwined with his.
“We… can’t…” whispered Harry, hardly trying to resist it.
“Yes, we can,” said Ginny, “and we will.”
She reached up on tiptoe and gradually her body fell against his as their lips touched and Harry gave in to his inhibitions…
*
It was almost three in the morning when the party finally began to wind down. Harry and Ginny had lain down on the grass: him on his back, looking up at the stars, and her on her side with her arm across his chest, breathing lightly in and out on his neck. When the marquee started to empty and the probability of being stepped on grew, Harry leant over, gave Ginny a kiss on the forehead and said: “We’d better get inside.” They got up and Harry put an arm around her waist, holding her close to him.
“Hey, Harry,” she said in a low voice, pointing inside the marquee as they passed; Ron and Hermione stood in the centre of the dance floor, kissing, apparently oblivious to the fact that everyone else had left. “Looks like you were right about the romantic atmosphere.”
Harry smiled and they carried on up to the house. When they got to the landing outside their bedrooms, they stopped and turned to each other.
“You look completely beautiful tonight, by the way,” said Harry.
“Thanks,” whispered Ginny, and she reached up to kiss him before disappearing inside her room, with a twinkle in her eye.
*
Harry woke the next morning with the feeling that an immense weight had been lifted off his shoulders. He had had dreams filled with stars, jazz and … well, he had slept peacefully. He and Ron got up, dressed, then went into the girls’ room to see if they were awake.
Hermione and Ginny sat on their flowered bedspreads, both seeming extremely well-spirited and rather too giggly in Harry’s opinion.
“Good morning,” said Hermione with a smile.
Ginny grinned at Harry and leapt over her bed, landing beside him.
“Come on,” she said, in a low voice. “Let’s leave them to it.”
Harry nodded and led the way down the stairs and out into the bright garden, revelling in the fact that he could now hold Ginny’s hand as they walked again.
“I knew you’d come to your senses eventually,” said Ginny, as their bare feet reached the grass. “I was just hoping it wouldn’t take too long.”
“I can hardly remember why I thought us being apart was such a good idea,” said Harry. “You were right “ I can protect you by loving you, and I will.”
Ginny smiled. “Good, I’m glad. I’m going to make your last year at Hogwarts unforgettable.”
Harry felt as if a ton weight had just been dropped into his stomach; with all the excitement, he had completely forgotten about telling Ginny his plans for the next year. She was almost completely in the dark about most of the content of his thoughts and “ even if he couldn’t tell her about the Horcruxes “ she had a right to know as much as he could tell her.
“Ginny,” he started, unsure of how to continue. “Er “ let’s sit down.”
She frowned but sat with him under an olive tree.
“The thing is … I’m not going back to Hogwarts.”
She stared at him.
“What?” she gasped. Harry waited, knowing that he didn’t need to repeat himself. “Why?”
“It’s … complicated “ “
“So complicated that you can’t even try to tell me?” asked Ginny, glaring at him with fiery eyes.
“I want to tell you!” said Harry in defence of himself. “Believe me! But I made a promise. Sorry.”
“A promise?” asked Ginny, and Harry thanked the heavens that the anger was leaving her voice. “To who?”
“Dumbledore,” he told her, clenching the pendant in his pocket.
Ginny considered this, trying to take it in.
“So … you’re leaving school the year before your NEWTs to do something that only Dumbledore knew about?”
Harry squirmed.
“Well, no, actually,” he muttered. “Ron and Hermione know and they “ er “ want to come with me.”
Ginny continued to glare at him.
“You’re joking?”
“I’m afraid not,” said Harry apologetically.
Ginny looked as if she might say something for a moment, then, without warning, she simply got up and walked away.
Harry sighed “ consoling girls was not his strong point.
*
“Harry, honestly; you’re worse than Ron!”
Harry snapped back to reality to see Hermione holding a pair of socks.
“Right “ yeah… “ he mumbled, looking down at the half-packed trunk that he was supposed to be loading his things into.
“Now,” said Hermione, thrusting the socks into his lap, “are you going to tell us what’s wrong, or are we going to have to ask?”
That was about right “ Harry had almost been waiting for that question.
“I had to tell Ginny about … stuff … “ he murmured.
“You told her about the Horcruxes?” asked Ron, folding a shirt distractedly.
“Of course I didn’t,” said Harry, expecting a little more credit. “The only people that know about them are in this room.”
Hermione took the shirt from Ron and folded it neatly for him, then lay it in his trunk.
“So she didn’t take the news about your plans too lightly, then?” she asked.
“Well, considering I can hardly tell her anything at all, I’m not really surprised,” said Harry solemnly.
“Well, technically, you could tell her “ “
“No he could not!” interrupted Ron. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
“I agree,” said Harry, “the less people that know, the better.”
“I suppose so,” mused Hermione, “it just seems so unfair.”
“You’re telling me,” muttered Harry.
The door opened and in came Ginny.
“You three look happy,” she said, casting a glance round the room, her eyes resting on Harry. “Can I speak to you for a moment?”
Harry nodded and followed her into the room across the hall, dreading what was to come.
“Sorry about earlier,” said Ginny, once they were sitting on her pink bedspread.
“No, I totally understand,” said Harry quickly. “And, you know, I’d get it if you just wanted to finish it all right now “ I’ve given you enough reason “ “
Ginny snorted, cutting Harry off.
“Finish it all?” she asked, a smile flickering across her lips. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Potter.”
“I’m “ what?”
Ginny put her hand on his and squeezed it.
“Whatever reason it is that you’re not coming back,” she said, “I know that it must be a good one. I realised that Hogwarts is your real home and that you wouldn’t leave just for the sake of it. I don’t know what happened this year, but however long you’re gone for … I’ll wait for you.”
Harry could hardly believe it; he had come to live with his loved ones disappearing “ often at the times when he felt he needed them most “ and yet here she was declaring her unconditional loyalty?
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Thank you,” said Harry, “that … that means a lot …”
Ginny smiled softly and kissed him on the cheek.
“As if I would leave you now,” she whispered.
The hair on the back of Harry’s neck tingled delightfully.
*
Saying ‘goodbye’ to the Delacours was not exactly an emotional affair. Mr Weasley shook Mr Delacours hand politely and Mrs Weasley smiled grudgingly as Giselle kissed her on either cheek; Harry got the feeling that group holidays were somewhat unlikely.
Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys “ minus Bill and Fleur “ flooed back to The Burrow, glad to be leaving their new in-laws behind but rather disappointed to be going back to England.
“Well,” said Ginny, once she, Harry, Ron and Hermione were in the Burrow’s kitchen, “We have the whole summer “ what shall we do?”
Harry lifted a hand to his face and inadvertently traced the scar on his forehead.
“I was going to “ I mean “ I was only going to stay for the wedding,” he uttered to the three inquisitive faces.
“You’re leaving already?” asked Ginny, crest-fallen.
“I want to, you know, get a start on things,” he said, looking at Ron, then Hermione.
“I guess we’re leaving too, then,” said Ron.
“No. Just let me go on my own first,” said Harry, thinking of Godric’s Hollow. “Please?”
Hermione nodded. “Of course. Send us an owl when you feel like some company.”
Harry smiled. “Thanks.”
He looked to Ginny. “This isn’t goodbye forever,” he said, taking one of her hands in his.
“When will I see you again?” she whispered, the pain in her eyes.
“When the world is free once more,” he replied, and he thought he saw a glimmer of unspoken understanding cross her features.
Harry kissed her tenderly “ his heart threatening to break in his chest “ then hugged Ron and Hermione in turn, noticing them clasp hands as he stepped towards the fireplace.
He sighed; their last days in the sun were over and it was time for him to face his destiny.
Destiny
Can’t live without you,
So why do I try to
Go on, despite you,
Despite the lies?
I live to be here,
I fear what you fear;
Forget what you hear,
My silent cries.
Torturing perfection,
The sweet confection,
Of your soft complexion,
Determined eyes.
Don’t want you to follow,
But it’s finite sorrow:
I’ll be here tomorrow,
Or in your mind.
A/N: Really hoped you liked this story and that it was as true to the books as I wanted it to be. Unfortunately, I don't think I'll be continuing or sequeling this story, but hey, who knows? It's a long wait till Book 7, right?! The poem at the end was one I wrote, inspired by this story. Feedback much appreciated! hp xxx
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.