~Shine my Light on You~


Ginny sighed as she crossed the street, self-consciously wringing her hands together.

Why would they send her? She wasn’t any good at this - and Ron and Hermione were his best friends. What made them think that she of all people could get through to him?

But Ron hadn’t been able to do it. Nor Hermione. Not even her own mother, or Remus Lupin for that matter.

Surely Remus would be able to.

But no.

So they had come to Ginny - pleading for her to try. And Ginny couldn’t say no. Not after seeing both Ron’s and Hermione’s crestfallen faces after they had returned to Grimmauld Place.

But it was the desperate look in her mother’s eyes that had really made Ginny do it. Being desperate was not a thing of her mother’s, and it had startled Ginny to see the tears in her eyes.

No ordinary tears, but tears of a mother. A mother in disparity.

Ginny had promised to try, but made no guarantees - no matter how hard it was to see the hurt flash her mother’s features.

So here she was.

Ginny closed her eyes with another sigh, stepping up to the doorstep of Number Four.

She looked over to see that the Dursleys’ car was gone.

She looked over her shoulder to the dark cat watching on the opposite side of the street, and gave a small wave of her hand to show that everything was all right.

Her Head of House gave a swish of her tail, giving Ginny the signal back, and Ginny pulled out her wand.

Glancing up and down the street, she pointed it at the doorknob and murmured, “Alohomora!”

A small click and she was in.

She stepped into the hallway. . . A rather clean hallway. There was not one piece of Muggle post out of it’s place, not one umbrella out of it’s stand, not one speck of dust on the hallway table.

The dark hard wood floor of the hallway shone in the bright sun, as if it had only just been mopped.

It probably has, thought Ginny with disgust.

It was . . . disturbing to see so much cleanliness.

Ginny turned up the stairs, noticing the photos the Muggles had mounted on the wall.

They were all of that boy . . . Dudley, was it?

There were no pictures of Harry. None at all.

Pictures of Dudley on his many birthday parties, pictures of Dudley with his mother and father, pictures of Dudley with his friends -

No pictures of Harry.

This wrenched at Ginny’s heart angrily. . .

He was still a part of their family. . .

She reached the landing to see more pictures of Dudley, upon which she squeezed her eyes to keep her temper in check.

But it had only worsened when she dared to open them again, this time to see a door with a dog flap on it.

That must be his room. . .

This was sick.

She neared the door, bringing her hand to rest on the handle, only to find that it was locked.

Ginny had been forewarned about this by Fred and George, but nevertheless pulled out her wand and muttered another spell.

Taking a deep breath, she pushed open the door with a shaking hand.

And she nearly cried at the sight of him. It had been worse than she thought.

Harry was lying on his bed, his blankets twisted around him like a ball. He seemed thinner than usual, his hair certainly messier than usual, and paler than ever as he stared blankly at the wall his bed was against.

She could tell how haunted his eyes were from here.

“Harry?” whispered Ginny in a shaky voice.

Startled, he looked around at her, and his eyes widened.

“Ginny?” he asked.

His hand self-consciously went to his hair as he sat up, drawing his knees to his chest in protectiveness.

“Hi,” said Ginny, forcing a smile.

But he didn’t smile back.

“What are you doing here?” he asked in a voice scratchy from disuse.

It wasn’t rude, but it stung nevertheless.

She was his friend, too, wasn’t she?

Ginny pulled up a chair next to his bed and sat down. On closer inspection, she noticed the dark circles around his eyes.

Harry snatched up his glasses, turning his eyes away from her obvious gaze.

“I just thought I’d visit,” said Ginny.

There was an awkward silence as both downcast their eyes.

“How - how have you been?” Ginny asked before she could stop herself.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. . . Of course he’d be feeling terrible, you dolt!

She mentally slapped herself.

“Erm - fine,” Harry lied in his croaky voice. “Look, Ginny - you -”

“Harry, I came because I wanted to come, all right?”

Which was true - however anxious she was.

It suddenly struck her that she was in Harry Potter’s bedroom.

And she felt her cheeks flame, but she didn’t think they went that red.

She heard a rustle of feathers behind her and looked over her shoulder to see Hedwig perched on top of her cage.

Ginny smiled while the snowy owl hooted, and she felt encouraged.

“So - erm - where are your aunt and uncle and cousin?” Ginny asked Harry.

“Some - some convention all the way in Whales,” said Harry.

Ginny grinned.

Thank you, Tonks!

“Oh no,” said Harry. “Tonks - Tonks is the one who sent them that letter, isn’t she?”

Ginny smiled widely.

“Yup,” she said proudly.

“The Dursleys are going to be so angry when they get back!” said Harry. “They’ll -”

“Don’t worry, Harry,” said Ginny. “You’ll be gone before they get back. Three more days, remember?”

Harry nodded, but did not make a comment.

Then, she heard his stomach growl.

“Are you hungry?” she asked with a frown. “When did the Dursleys leave?”

“Yesterday,” said Harry.

So that meant they locked him in yesterday.

“And you haven’t eaten since?!” asked Ginny in outrage.

She stood up quickly, making him jump.

“You get in the shower,” she said. “I’m going to make you something to eat.”

“But -”

“Now, Harry,” Ginny said firmly, moving the chair and taking him by the arm.

She watched him get a change of clothes and followed him out of the bedroom, where he crossed the hall into the bathroom.

As soon as he closed the door, she hurried downstairs into the kitchen.

Muggle cooking couldn’t be that hard, could it?

But once she stepped into the kitchen, eyeing the fairly new appliances, she felt her heart sink.

“How in the world -” began Ginny.

But - she would be optimistic. Harry needed to eat.

So, after about five minutes of searching, she found a pan and set it on the burner.

Nothing happened.

“Oh - forget this,” said Ginny.

Thank Merlin Bill had set a guard over the house, or else she would be hauled in by the ministry by now.

She took out her wand once more and waved it, bringing the pan to hover over the stove.

She opened the . . . what was it? The reckfringenator and took eggs out of the carton, cracking them in the pan and using her wand to heat it.

She then found a couple pieces of toast as the eggs sizzled in the pan, being scrambled by a fork, and fried those after the eggs.

It wasn’t much, but at least it was something.

She hurried back upstairs, the plate of food and orange juice in hand, back into his room, where he stood at his mirror, running a comb through his messy raven-colored hair.

“Here,” she said, handing him the plate. “It’s not much - as I don’t know how to use those things down there.”

“Er - thanks, Ginny,” said Harry.

She watched him silently as he ate, slowly but surely.

The jeans and T-shirt simply hung off of him. She was startled by this.

“Harry - you need to eat more,” said Ginny as he finally set down the plate, only halfway eaten.

He shook his head, his eyes on the floor.

Ginny tilted her head downwards to peer into his eyes, finally grasping his wrist with a firm, yet gentle touch.

“It’s not your fault,” she said in a low voice.

He did not say anything, tensing up and pulling away from her touch.

Ginny frowned, her head bowed, picking up the plate.

She brought it back downstairs into the kitchen, not even bothering to clean it once all the leftover food had been thrown away.

That was the least the Muggles deserved - and Harry wouldn’t be forced to do it.

She was just returning to the stairs when she spotted something.

A small door beneath the stairs. A cupboard.

“They kept him in a cupboard, those Muggles. . .”

Was this what Hagrid had been talking about?

Curiosity getting the better of her, Ginny pulled at the latch and opened the door.

She gasped as she saw the inside.

A small, small cot, with a beaten quilt upon it and a single pillow. Accompanying the cupboard were lined shelves on the wall. On these shelves were a few forgotten items, including a miniature toy soldier.

As if in a trance, Ginny’s hand went up to the ragged fabric of the quilt and traced it seams.

As she did this, she could sense the sad tales of neglect . . . and abuse by the Muggles, especially when it came to Harry’s uncle.

Ginny furiously wiped at her eyes, standing up from the cupboard with shortened breath.

How could one human being do this to another? Especially a child?

She let the cupboard door slam, hurrying up the stairs two at a time.

She couldn’t let this by. She wanted answers from Harry, and she wanted them now.

But when she returned to his bedroom, she found that he had taken to lying on his bed again, only this time, his hand seemed very tense on the blankets, and his breathing seemed shallow, his eyes closed.

“Harry?”

She was startled as he opened his eyes to reveal them to be red-rimmed and glassy.

“Ginny can you go now, please?” he asked in a strangled voice.

But Ginny approached nonetheless as he turned to his wall with a shuddered breath.

“Please, Ginny,” he said in that same strangled voice.

She felt his muscles tense under her hand as she touched his arm.

“Harry, it’s okay,” she said.

He didn’t answer.

“Do you really want me to go?” Ginny asked, sitting on the bed and leaning over to whisper in his ear.

He looked up at her, his eyes puffy and still red-rimmed. It only made her heart ache more.

She watched his mouth form, “No,” as he looked away from her.

Seeming shamed, he rolled back over, but Ginny took the initiative to lay down behind him, reaching her arm through his to grasp his hand as she pressed her face between his shoulder blades.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” she whispered as she squeezed his hand.

She clasped her eyes shut as she felt a gentle squeeze back.

-

A/N: Quick question - should I continue it?

Chapter Two

When Harry awoke several hours later, it was to find that the sun was beginning to set.

He looked down to Ginny, pressed close to him, one of her small hands clasped in his larger. She slept peacefully beside him, the red-orange light of the sunset falling over her, making her red hair seem like it was on fire as it caught every flicker.

He furrowed his brow in confusion.

He’d known Ginny for four years now, but he’d never been this close with her before, and he simply couldn’t understand it.

He’d known she had fancied him up until his fifth year, but now . . .

And wasn’t she with Dean Thomas?

No, a small voice that sounded much like Ron’s distant angry one. She broke up with him because he was cheating on her.

Still . . .

Yes, Ginny was an affectionate person, but he’d only seen that affection with her brothers or Hermione. No one else besides that, really.

Even if it was confusing, Harry found comfort in her nevertheless.

He had seen something in Ginny that he hadn’t seen before.

What baffled him further, though, was that he’d never gotten out of bed when Ron, Hermione, Remus and even Mrs. Weasley had come to visit.

Something in Ginny’s manner had driven him.

Harry sighed.

His head was beginning to ache and he just couldn’t find the strength of will to stay awake any longer.

With that, he lay his head back down and fell back into another slumber.

*~*~*~*

Ginny awoke sometime later, seeing that the sun had properly set.

She felt a light, steady, warm breeze against her forehead and looked up to see Harry close to her, sleeping.

She looked up him, suddenly struck by how different he looked when he was asleep.

Everyone looked vulnerable when they slept, but being vulnerable seemed so much different for the sixth year.

His lips were turned downward in a slight frown, and he squeezed her hand tightly within his own, willing her to stay beside him.

Ginny knew idly that she should be getting back to Number Twelve, that her mother would be worried about her by now, but she didn’t want to disturb him just yet.

Nor did she want to leave anytime soon, truthfully. If she had to leave, she wanted to take him with her.

She suddenly felt a surge of fierce protectiveness as she watched him sleep on, and she had a fleeting feeling of always wanting to stay beside him.

She cared for him. There was no getting around that. . .

Suddenly, Harry tensed, his grip tight, and guttural sounds began to escape him as he began to tremble.

Oh no. . .

Harry began to shake worse, his head jerking from side to side, panicked.

“No,” he moaned. “No!” this time louder.

Ginny quickly sat up, and he gripped tighter, causing her very bones to rub against one another as she whimpered in pain.

She quickly leaned over and began to shake his shoulder, her other hand still caught within in his own.

“Harry!” she gasped urgently. “Harry - wake up -”

He abruptly sat up, releasing her hand, a sheen layer of sweat covering his forehead as he gulped in air desperately.

His trembling was shaking the bed.

“Harry,” said Ginny in alarm, touching his shoulder.

He pulled away from her touch.

“Harry, it’s all right -”

“Sorry,” he mumbled, pulling a blanket over himself. “Did I hurt you?” he didn’t meet her eyes.

“No,” lied Ginny, immediately smoothing her tangled hair.

Harry sighed, drawing his knees up to his chest as he turned to the wall.

“You’re okay now,” whispered Ginny, leaning over to smooth a hand up and down his back in steady, calming movements, feeling his muscles tense, then relax.

“Did . . . did you see anything?”

“No,” said Harry shortly. “Gin - shouldn’t you be getting home? Isn’t Mrs. Weasley going to worry?”

Ginny frowned, unable to stop the hurt flashing her features as she stopped rubbing his back.

His muscles were tense once more.

Without a word, Ginny slid off the bed, going to the desk as she heard him sigh behind her.

She leaned over at the desk, pulling a spare piece of parchment and quill towards herself.

Mum,

I’ll be staying with Harry tonight. Don’t worry, I’ll be home by noon tomorrow.

Love,

Gin

“Hedwig,” she murmured.

The owl fluttered to her shoulder, sticking out its leg patiently.

“What’re you doing?” asked Harry’s voice.

Ginny ignored him.

“Take this to Grimmauld Place, okay, Hedwig?” she breathed, tying the letter to Hedwig’s leg.

The snowy owl hooted, giving a slight pressure on her shoulder before flying out of Harry’s open window.

Ginny turned back to Harry, whose expression was exasperated a as she went back to the bedside, lifting her leg to sit on the edge.

“I’m staying,” she said calmly.

For a moment, they simply stared at each other, Ginny daring him to say otherwise to her, his face in the same expression -

He suddenly turned over with a huff.

“Fine,” he said forcibly.

“Oh no you don’t.”

Ginny stood up and in one swift movement, ripped the blankets off of him, despite his protests.

“Shut up and listen!” she snapped. “I came here all the way from London to get your arse out of bed and eating and this is the thanks I get?”

“You -”

“Harry - Mum isn’t sleeping, Ron’s not eating, Hermione’s worried sick, she can’t even focus on her studies! Remus has become so anxious about you he’s immersed himself in working too much - he’s running himself down! He won’t last much longer!”

“I -”

“Didn’t it ever occur to you that we might be hurting as well?! We only want to help and you won’t even give us the time of day!”

“I -”

“Sometimes I’ve heard my own mother cry herself to sleep between her anxiety about you and everything else! She’s the whole reason I came here - she’s so worried about you!”

His expression was stricken, and Ginny knew she’d hit her mark.

“We all know you’re hurting - just let us help you - lying to us isn’t -”

“Ginny -”

“Sirius would feel terrible if he saw you right now!” said Ginny. “He would want you to remember him for your happy times together - not starve yourself to death!”

She stopped herself, taking a deep breath, praying for her father’s patience.

That wasn’t helping however, so she turned her back on him, dropping his blanket as she folded her arms across her chest.

Angry patches of pink were high on her cheeks, and her eyes flashed like her mother’s did. She had to take several deep, calming breaths.

“I’m staying tonight whether or not you like it, Harry James Potter.”

There were a few moments of stunned silence following this pronouncement, Ginny scowling at the wall -

He can be such a -

“I’m sorry, Ginny.”

Her eyes flew open wide. She certainly hadn’t been expecting that.

She turned back to face him.

“You’re right,” Harry mumbled. “It’s just . . . I don’t know how I’m . . .” he faltered.

“I can’t say things will be completely normal, but the first thing you should do is talk to us . . .” said Ginny. “Especially Remus. . . You two need each other. Even Tonks can’t get through to him.”

Harry sighed.

“Is it really that bad?” he asked.

“Mmm-hmm,” Ginny hummed, sitting on the bed again, her brow creased.

He was silent again, lying back down.

Ginny smoothed a hand through his hair, and he closed his eyes.

“Will you let me help you now?” she asked, her voice in contrast to what it had been before, gentle and calm.

“Yeah.”

Ginny lay down beside him.

“Good,” she whispered, laying her head on his shoulder.

~I’ll show you love~

~’Cause you’re all alone~

----

A/N: Those last two lines were from 8 x 10 on Fefe Dobson's album.

Should I continue it?

Chapter Three


“Harry?” asked Ginny as they lay there together.

“Mmm?”

“Can I ask you something?”

“What?”

Ginny fidgeted for a moment, trying to think of the best way to put it.

“Erm - what did you . . . what was your dream about?”

She felt him grow still beside her.

Please let me be able to help. . . she prayed.

But after a few minutes of silence, he didn’t answer.

Frowning, Ginny turned onto her side to face him, placing a supporting hand over his clasped ones, willing him to let her help - in any way.

“I - it - it was . . . the Department of Mysteries,” Harry uttered.

Ginny’s frown grew deeper.

“Do you dream about it a lot?” she asked in a quiet voice.

“Mmm - hmm. . .”

Ginny laid her head on his shoulder, taking one of his hands in her own.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed of it,” she said. “You’re not supposed to push things away - it’ll only hurt worse in the end. If you keep something like this bottled up for so long you’ll eventually shut yourself down. . . Like Remus. . .”

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself not to cry as fleeting visions of her friend flashed in her mind. . .

The last she’d seen him, the dark circles around his eyes were even darker, and his hair was getting even grayer. The lines on his face had seemed to get deeper with his grief, and his eyes, once dancing with mirth and happiness, even in the darkest times, were cold and distant. Plain orbs of blue-gray.

Harry interrupted her train of thought.

“What did you mean when you said Tonks couldn’t get through to him?”

He was swerving away from the subject of himself.

“Well, Tonks was Sirius’s cousin, wasn’t she?” Ginny answered. “So she, next to you, was the only person that could relate with him. And she’s still trying. . . Tonks was rather fond of Sirius, as well with Remus.”

He grew silent once more, his eyes downcast.

“Everything will be all right, though,” Ginny said in a reassuring voice.

At least I hope so. . .

She took to notice that his scent was a light, fresh one. . . Like the rain soaked grass. . .

Her lips twitched slightly at the ludicrousness of her thoughts.

This is Harry, dear, said a voice much like her mother’s.

“Blimey, I’m tired. . .” Harry murmured.

“Mmmm. . .”

The low rumble of his voice was carrying her off to sleep in this dark room.

He thought he’d gotten past her without speaking about he felt, but Ginny wasn’t going to let go. . . But for now, she was sleepy, and getting him to talk at all was a victory in itself. . . Even if she had to yell at him. . . .

“Ginny?”

His voice sounded distant. . .

“Mmmmmm?”

A hushed moment. . .

“Never mind. . .”

And then she fell asleep.

*~*~*~*

Harry stared at her as she slept on his shoulder.

She really is something. . . he thought.

Harry suddenly felt that he didn’t want Ginny to go anytime soon, unlike before. He liked that she was willing to stay beside him, and something inside him flared. . .

Impulsively, he drew her closer to him, and she murmured something he couldn’t distinguish as she buried her face in his neck.

It would be selfish of him to keep her like this. . . She had a family to go home to, and she should be leaving, just for now, he just wanted to hold her tight.

Something in her presence had calmed him. . . Eased him of anxiousness, if even for a little while. . . Just a little while. . .

He smiled faintly as his sudden thoughts. . . Wasn’t this Ginevra Molly Weasley? Little sister of his best friend Ron? That little girl that had grown up and out of her fancy of him?

Harry closed his eyes. He shouldn’t think about that now. . . Right now, he should just rest.

He pulled back slightly to look at her.

He felt a grin slide onto his face when he saw that her lips were curled upward in a slight, contented smile. She curled her fingers into his shirt, snuggling her head against his slightly extended arm.

Unable to help this unfamiliar, raging emotion, Harry leaned over and kissed that wonderful curve of her mouth, smiling slightly as she murmured something against his skin.

For now, he would rest. . .

*~*~*~*

Ginny awoke to the bright, newly-risen sun, the smell of dew wafting through the window, birds chirping in the neighborhood trees.

What an annoying racket, she thought lazily.

She found her situation was much more different then it was when she awoke last night.

Harry was holding her against his chest, his hands pressed into the small of her back, his cheek resting on her temple as she had her head rested on his upper arm. Their legs were locked together, and she found that one of her arms was wrapped around his torso, he other hand grasping at his T-shirt.

She pulled back slightly to notice that his lips were turned upward in the slightest.

Merlin - he’s sleeping peacefully. . .

But she blushed as she thought this. What happened last night that was different than the day before. This was so much more different, so much more . . . personal. . . This was . . . more than friends.

Startled by her thoughts, she moved her head slightly, and he murmured something as his head fell into the pillow, his hold on her firmer than before.

“Harry . . .” she whispered. “Harry. Wake up!”

He didn’t move.

“Harry!” she said again, louder.

His eyes tiredly fluttered open.

“Erm - hi,” said Ginny awkwardly.

His cheeks flamed, and he released her immediately, putting as much distance between them as possible, which wasn’t much considering the size of the bed.

Harry’s mouth opened and closed as he sat up, a loss for words. Ginny found she was, too.

“L-listen Ginny,” Harry finally croaked, “I -”

Ginny felt her face grow very warm all of the sudden. The best thing to do right now was to get even more space between them.

“Er - hold that thought,” she said. “I’ll be right back.”

She slid off the bed and exited his room, crossing the hall for the bathroom, where she closed the door and used it to lean against, taking deep, calming breaths.

Oh Merlin. . .

---

A/N: Ahh - romance. Can you feel the love? And the awkwardness. *haha*
Please, please, please review!

Chapter Four


Ginny’s hands were shaking by the time she returned to Harry’s bedroom.

He was sitting on the edge of his bed, his head in his hands, elbows on his knees, staring at the wall opposite himself.

“Harry?”

He looked around at her.

“Oh,” he said. “Hi.”

An awkward silence fell between them, Ginny picking at her fingers as she shifted her weight from foot to foot.

“Erm -”

“You know, you should really get something to eat before you have to go,” said Harry, standing up. “It’s already ten o’clock.”

He brushed past her, down the steps.

Hoooo. . .

A soft whoosh of wings, and Hedwig fluttered through the window, a dead mouse in her beak and a letter tied to her leg. She landed on the bed, holding out her leg impatiently. She was obviously hungry for her kill. Ginny silently crossed the room, relieving Hedwig of her burden before she flew across the room to the top of her cage.


Ginny,

Received your letter. I’ve asked Dumbledore if Harry may come home today - and he informed me that it’s safe.

Ron and Hermione are flooing into the Muggle’s at four-thirty - make sure Harry’s ready.

Love,

Mum

Ginny breathed a sigh of relief; the sooner Harry got out of here, the better. And he would be happy about that.

She folded the note, stuffing it into her trouser pocket as she left the room.

Down in the kitchen, she saw Harry standing at the stove - frying what looked like slices of ham.

“Harry - I didn’t know you could cook!” Ginny said, surprised.

Harry looked over a her and smiled slightly. “Oh . . . yeah The Dursley’s had me do it a lot when I was younger.”

Ginny frowned.

Merlin - he needs to get away from here. . . she thought sadly.

“Just sit down,” said Harry, pouring the contents of the frying pan onto a plate.

Ginny sank into a chair at the end of the kitchen table, watching him as he moved around, frying eggs, pouring orange juice, and toasting bread in that . . . tosster, was it?

“Can I do anything -?” she began, moving to stand up.

Harry shook his head.

“You made breakfast for me yesterday,” he explained.

Ginny bit back a remark, sinking back into the chair.

“Here,” said Harry, setting a plate in front of her along with a glass of orange juice.

“Thanks,” Ginny murmured, noticing that he was still not meeting her eyes.

He sat down beside her with his own plate.

Ginny speared a piece of breakfast ham with her fork.

“Mmm - this is really good,” she said.

While she ate quickly, while noticing he barely ate anything, mostly pushing his food around his plate.

“Harry,” said Ginny, finally setting her fork down and pushing her plate away. “You need to eat something.”

He didn’t comment, simply raising a small bite to his mouth.

Ginny set her hand on his rested one.

“Harry I’m not mad at you if that’s what your thinking,” she said with a smile. “I’m glad I could be a comfort. . .”

He looked up at her, a question in his eyes.

“Yes,” said Ginny. “So stop being a prat.”

This startled laughter out of him, and he began to eat with a little more vigor.

“And by the way,” said Ginny, “I got a response to the letter I sent last night.”

She pulled the note out of her pocket.

“Received your letter,” she read. “I’ve asked Dumbledore if Harry may come home today -
and he informed me that it’s safe. Ron and Hermione are flooing into the Muggle’s at four thirty - make sure Harry’s ready. Love, Mum."

Harry brightened up.

“I get to go a day early?” he asked.

“Mm-hm,” said Ginny happily.

“Four-thirty?” asked Harry. “Oh but that’s too long.”

“You could show me how to play those vidio grams your cousin likes so much?” suggested Ginny.

He grinned.

*~*~*~*

“Harry hurry, it’s almost time to go,” said Ginny later that afternoon as packed the rest of his things.

Playing the vidio grams had been fun, but they’d spent so much time on “Monster Destroyer 3000” that before they knew it, it was four-fifteen.

Harry threw the rest of his belongings into the trunk, along with his broom, closing it with a snap.

“Ready?” asked Ginny, who was carrying Hedwig’s cage.

“Yeah,” said Harry.

Together, they managed to drag the trunk downstairs and into the living room.

“Any minute now,” said Ginny, checking her watch. Four-twenty-nine. She watched the fireplace expectantly.

Harry turned to her.

“Hey, Ginny,” he began.

She looked over at him.

“Yeah Harry?”

“I - well I just -” he faltered.

Ginny stepped closer to him.

“Yeah?”

Whooosh!

“Hey mate,” said Ron brightly as he stepped out of the fireplace, brushing soot off of his clothes.

Bad timing my dear brother, thought Ginny.

Whooosh!

“Oh!”

Hermione, bushy hair flying everywhere, stumbled out of the fireplace, and it was Ron that caught her.

“Oh, thanks, Ron,” said Hermione, steadying herself.

Ginny took to notice that Hermione’s cheeks were a little flushed, and she had a feeling it wasn’t from the Floo.

She caught Harry’s eye and they both smothered grins.

“You - er - ready?” asked Ron.

“Yeah,” said Harry, picking up Hedwig’s cage. “We’re going to the Burrow, right?”

Ron cast Ginny an anxious look.

“No - erm - we’re going to Grimmauld Place,” he muttered.

Hermione’s brow was creased.

“Oh,” Harry’s face had fallen, and Ginny noticed that his eyes had looked haunted. “A-all right.”

Ron cleared his throat.

“Erm - I’ll take your trunk, eh, Harry?”

He stepped forward and grabbed Harry’s trunk from him.

“Oh,” he said. He handed Ginny a pouch of Floo powder.

He heaved the trunk into the green-flamed fireplace, taking a pinch of Floo Ginny offered.

“Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!”

Whooosh!

“I’ll take Hedwig’s cage, shall I?” asked Hermione, picking up said cage and striding into the fireplace. She, too, took a pinch of Floo powder.

“Number Twelve Grimmauld Place!”

Whooosh!

Ginny turned to Harry.

“Will - will you be all right?” she asked tentatively.

He didn’t say anything, only staring into the fireplace with that haunted, transfixed look.

Ginny took his hand in hers, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

Closing his eyes in resignment, he took a pinch of Floo.

“N-Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place.”

Whooosh!

---

A/N: Okay, we've got about two more chapters to go.
Just on a little side note, this was originally intended to be a four chapter fic - but when I wrote the fourth chapter, it turned out to be too long for the folks over at SIYE - so I had to seperate it into three chapters. 4070 in case you were curious.

Chapter Five


Harry’s first few days were quiet but rather tense. Ginny found that he was coming to her more often, or just sitting with her to talk.

Ginny suspected it was soothing his nerves about being back in Number Twelve, and she was so grateful that she was able to help him.

You could easily tell that he didn’t like to be here at all, and once Ginny found him staring at the door of Sirius’s old bedroom. Just staring. She had made an attempt to help, but he had only quickly changed the subject before Mum called upstairs for dinner.

But she wouldn’t give up. Now that she had gotten him to talk a little at Privet Drive, she was making every possible attempt. She knew Harry was a little nettled by this, but didn’t care. She knew he was going to lose it if didn’t talk about how he felt.

What surprised her was her brother.

“Your - your not mad are you?” she had asked them as they played chess in the front room.

“About what?” asked Ron. “Ha! Checkmate!”

Ginny lowered her voice.

“Harry - Harry coming to me and -”

“Ginny, why in Merlin’s name would I be mad about that!” said Ron, still smiling as his bishop started to beat one of her pawns.

“I - I dunno,” Ginny mumbled. “I just -”

“I’m glad he has somebody to talk to,” said Ron rather seriously. “Merlin knows I’m not good with the mushy stuff - even when I do want to help.”

Ginny smiled, feeling an upsurge of affection for her brother. He can be a great bloke, really.

Remus and Tonks, who had been up in Scotland on a mission, were to return a few days before Harry’s birthday, and that was what Ginny was most anxious about.

What would happen when Remus and Harry finally see each other?

She always pushed this question aside, telling herself that no matter what things would be all
right.

She just hoped there wouldn’t be too many bumps along the way.

*~*~*~*

The day before Tonks and Remus were to return, Ginny was helping her mother around the house.

She was in the bedroom she shared with Hermione, folding a fairly large basket of laundry when there was a soft knock on the door.

“Come in,” she answered.

She turned about to see Harry poke his head in before stepping inside.

“Hi Harry,” she said, smiling.

“Hi,” he said.

“What’re you up to?” Ginny asked, setting Hermione’s pile of clothes on the other bed.

Harry shrugged his shoulders.

She could tell he had some unease. Well, at least more so than usual today.

Ginny eyed his clothes as he stood in silence.

She was so happy that Tonks and Mum had gone to a Muggle store and gotten clothes for him for his sixteenth birthday. They had decided to take Fred and George along with herself, Ron and Hermione, as they were the closest to Harry’s build.

It was rather . . . entertaining, actually. Especially with the lively Tonks, who succeeded in knocking down four mannequins before they left the store.

“Are you excited for your birthday?” she asked.

He shrugged his shoulders again.

“Well - we should be having a few people come in,” Ginny said, turning away from him, unable to surpress her grin.

Which was a little white lie.

“Ginny, I -”

She turned back to him, praying silently. She recognized that tone of voice so well now. He’d used it almost every time he talked to her. Please.

“I - erm . . . never mind.”

Ginny exhaled lowly, for she hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath.

“Okay, Harry.”

“See you later.”

“’Bye.”

*~*~*~*

The next day, Remus and Tonks returned on schedule, and Ginny was happy to see a present in Remus’s arms before he stashed it into the pantry. She was even more pleased to see that the circles around his eyes had lightened a bit, and he looked like he had had a decent meal or two.

“How are you,” Ginny asked him, wrapping him a brief hug.

“I’m all right,” Remus had answered her, surprise in his eyes by her affection. But he smiled down at her nonetheless. “Where’s Harry?” his tone had become a little more anxious.

“He’s upstairs,” Ginny answered. He fixed her with a stare, a silent question. “He’s getting there,” she answered him.

Remus let out a breath of relief before lightly squeezing her shoulder.

“You should go and talk to him, Remus,” Tonks whispered, touching his arm.

Remus nodded, glancing a smile at both Ginny and Tonks before turning and disappearing up the kitchen stairs.

“And how is he?” Ginny whispered to Tonks.

“Well . . . I’m not so sure,” Tonks answered, her eyebrows knit.

“Don’t worry,” Ginny reassured her. “They’ll both come around eventually.”

Tonks nodded with a swallow.

*~*~*~*

Ginny wasn’t sure what Harry and Remus had talked about, but both seemed in even spirits, even if neither were saying anything. It was all right with Ginny, though.

Everything will be okay.

“Ginny!” called Mum as they cleaned the dining room.

Ginny went to her mother, setting plates on the end of the table as she did so.

“Ginny, dear, will you go and check on Harry for me?” Mum asked, smoothing hair behind Ginny’s ears.

Ginny nodded.

She hurried out of the dining room and up the first staircase, careful not to disturb the portrait of Mrs. Black.

As she stepped up to the first landing, she noticed that Harry’s door was open a few inches. She could hear someone shuffling in there, and felt a slight anxiety settle in her stomach.

Swallowing, she crossed the hallway, carefully pushing the door open.

“Harry?” she whispered.

He had settled to sitting on the edge of his bed, and his back was to her, his head bent. He seemed to take no notice of her whatsoever.

Frowning, Ginny went to the bed and stood in front of him, lowering herself to her knees.

His glasses had been set at his side he quickly rubbed at his eyes, not meeting her gaze but focusing on a small box in his hands.

Ginny eyed it warily.

“Harry?”

He didn’t answer.

He frown seemed to deepen as she stood and sat on the bed beside him. His breath was shallow, and his hands shook slightly as he held onto the package.

“Harry,” she said again, smoothing a hand along his shoulders.

His breath quickened, and he squeezed his eyes shut.

“G-Ginny. . .” he said in a strangled voice. He gave a small shudder.

Only knowing what was going to happen next, Ginny pulled him to her, wrapping her arms around him.

“It’s all right, Harry,” she whispered against his ear. “I’m here - just let it go.”

He curled his fingers into her jumper, burying her face in her shoulder, and sobbed.

The small package had dropped to the floor, forgotten, and he was shaking so terribly that the bed was rocking in the slightest.

But Ginny still held onto him silently, stroking his hair and whispering to soothe him, willing his grief fall onto her.

His control had been broken, and while so relieved that he was finally grieving, she knew he would be ashamed of it.

But she wasn’t going to let him withdraw ever again. . .

The storming of his tears finally slowed, yet he still held onto her, trying to gather his composure.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, finally pulling away.

Ginny shook her head at him, dismissing the apology, smoothing hair away from his forehead.

“What is that?” she asked him, picking up the fallen package from the floor.

“It’s - it’s er - Sirius’s gift for my sixteenth birthday,” Harry sniffed in a shaky voice, wiping his face. “Remus said - said that Sirius found it back in May and thought it’d be a great gift for me.”

He took the package from her, turning it over in her hands.

“Aren’t you going to open it?” she whispered as he went silent.

He stilled for a moment.

Ginny gave a small, reassuring squeeze on his arm, and he nodded, tearing the paper open. Inside was an wrapped package with a card attached.

“Will - will you read it for me?” Ginny nodded, taking the card from him, opening it.

She smiled reminiscently as she spotted Sirius’s familiar scrawl.

“Dear Harry,” she read. “I was rummaging through my bedroom when I found this in my old school trunk. It’s something James nicked in our sixth year and he never quite got around to returning it.” Ginny grinned. “I thought you should have it. Happy birthday, mate.”

Harry smiled slightly, quickly wiping at his eyes again before he turned his gaze down to the package.

“Open it,” said Ginny.

He tore the last of the paper away to reveal a golden, walnut-sized ball.

“A Snitch?” said Harry, picking up the ball. Comprehension dawned his features, and he grinned. “Oh . . . my dad liked to nick these a lot,” he explained to Ginny.

The Snitch flicked out it’s small, golden wings, immediately zooming around the room at top speed.

“I miss him,” Harry whispered, his eyes downcast.

“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Ginny whispered, taking his hand. He squeezed back.

Thank you, Sirius, Ginny thought as she sighed, laying her head on his shoulder.

---

One more chapter to go! Please review in the meantime!

Chapter Six


Sometime later, Ginny heard her mother call upstairs for them to come down for dinner.

Excitement bubbled in Ginny’s stomach, and she sprang up from her chair. All of the Order (with the exception of Snape, McGonagall and Dumbledore), Hermione and the Weasley’s were to be there. Even the twin’s friend Lee Jordan.

“Come on!” she smiled at Harry.

“Hold on,” grunted Harry, who was hopping around the room, trying to catch the old Snitch.

Ginny watched, amused, giggling as he did this.

He finally reached around the bed post, making a long stretch, finally closing his fingers on the frantic ball, which beat it’s wings desperately against his palm.

“Are you ready yet?” Ginny teased, pulling on her shoes.

He hurried to a trunk and pulled a sock from it, stuffing the golden ball inside before setting it back inside.

“Ready now?”

“Yeah,” Harry panted.

Surpressing a giggle but showing a smile, Ginny took him by the arm, leading him out the door. More like frantic rushing.

“Gin - it’s only dinner -” began Harry.

But Ginny wasn’t listening as they hurried down the first staircase.

They tip-toed past Mrs. Black, down the dining room staircase.

“Gin - what’re you -”

“Shhh!” said Ginny, loud enough for the people on the inside to hear.

She smiled at him briefly before turning the handle and bursting through the door.

“SURPRISE!”

Harry’s mouth fell open, completely stunned at the sight of all the people.

All of the Order, including Kingsley Shacklebolt, Emmeline Vance, Elphias Doge, the excitable Deldalus Diggle, Hestia Jones, Mad-Eye, and finally Lupin, by his side, Tonks. Among the Order was the Weasley family, including Bill and Charlie, who Ginny was very delighted to see. The party clapped and cheered, the twin’s and Lee laughing at the dumbfounded look on Harry’s face.

Ginny turned and smiled up at him.

“Happy birthday, Harry,” she beamed.

“T-they - you - did all this . . . all of this for me?” Harry croaked.

“Mm-hm,” said Ginny happily.

A big smile spread on Harry’s face, even if he was still visibly shocked.

“Come on, mate,” Ron said, stepping forward and clapping Harry on the shoulder. “Come and have some food.”

Ginny gave his arm a brief squeeze before he was led off, and she ran into the arms of her two oldest brothers, who each took it in turns to pick her up off her feet in those wonderful, strong hugs of theirs.

“How’s my girl?” Bill would ask. Or Charlie would use her old pet name, “Munchkin.”

Ginny loved to be around her brothers. And she loved to see them as much as she could. Even if Bill was back here in England, he spent most of his time with that prissy Fleur. And Charlie was still out in Romania.

“How is he?” Bill whispered seriously, as Charlie’s face mirrored the same expression.

“He’s much better than before,” Ginny murmured with a smile, glancing in Harry’s direction where he was being pulled into a hug by Mum.

“Good,” Bill said. He then grinned. “Did you see all the presents?” he asked.

Ginny looked over at the dining table and saw that it was nearly groaning under the weight of a very large pile of presents and various foods.

“Wow!” she smiled.

Harry was also looking at the presents, completely taken aback.

“This is how his birthday parties should have been,” Ginny murmured as Tonks jovially shoved a present into Harry’s arms, ruffling his hair fondly and kissing his cheek, which made the now sixteen-year-old color brightly.

She felt Bill’s arms around her shoulders.

“Yes - well now we’ll have plenty of time to make that up.”

She saw Remus heave something upon an open space on the table.

“Looks like Remus found that old C. Gilbert record player of his,” said Charlie as Lupin opened the case.

He lowered the needle and some lively music began to play.

“Dance with me?” asked Bill, stepping in front of her, offering his hand.

Ginny grinned and he dragged her to an open space.

“D’you remember when I learned how to swing dance?” Bill asked as he moved his hips to the beat.

“Oh yeah,” giggled Ginny as he spun her out and in. “For that girlfriend of yours when you were twenty - you bluffed and said you could.”

Bill laughed.

“And Mum wasn’t up to helping me learn,” he said.

“But what I remember most,” said Ginny, giggling, “is me dancing on your toes when you first taught me how to dance - when I was seven.”

He grinned as she carefully stepped on his toes, moving for the both of them.

Other party-goers soon got the gist and began to dance as well.

Charlie had grabbed Mum away from Harry, Fred, George and Lee, up to their usual jokes, began to dance rather exuberantly and even Deldalus Diggle had grabbed Hestia Jones.

Ginny glanced over at Harry and was pleased to see that same big smile on his face as he talked with Dad.

The music finally quieted into a slower tune.

Out of breath, Bill hugged his little sister, giving a kiss on the top of her head before departing.

Ginny grinned up at him before scanning through the crowd.

She saw Tonks grab Remus away from the table and drag him into the dance area; Kingsley was paired up with Emmeline; Mum and Dad were also paired, up. Charlie had taken the rather pink Hestia.

On opposite sides of the room were Ron, who had taken to staring at his feet, and Hermione was sipping a drink quietly.

Ginny wore a grin that could have challenged Fred and George’s evil ones.

Oh Merlin, I’m good, she thought mischievously.

She went to Ron.

“Wanna join me in a dance?” she asked sweetly.

“Erm - sure,” said Ron, taken by surprise.

He made to the dancing area, but she stopped him halfway.

“Hold on,” she said. “Let me go take my shoes off, yeah?”

But dancing with Ron was certainly not was she intended.

She disappeared through a crowd to Hermione.

“Hey, ’Mione,” she said, “Bill wants to talk to you.”

“Bill?” questioned Hermione, furrowing her brow.

Ginny shrugged.

“Come on,” she said, grabbing her best friend’s hand.

She led Hermione into the crowd of dancing people, separating them from only a few bodies between Ron, who seemed to be looking for Ginny.

Ginny thanked Merlin that Kingsley was so tall, and purposely dropped Hermione’s hand to grab Ron’s.

“Here Hermione,” she said, joining the two hands and pushing them into each other as another slow song picked up.

She giggled as she rushed off to the table where Harry sitting alone, looking happier than she’d ever seen in the past few days.

“Birthday Boy,” she smiled, taking his hand. “Dance with me?”

His cheeks went pink but he followed her nevertheless, as he didn’t have much choice.

“So,” said Ginny as she clasped her hand with one of his, the other around his shoulder, while he put his other around her waist. “Have you had a nice birthday?”

“A great one,” said Harry happily. “So you planned all this?”

“The Weasley clan, Hermione, Remus and Tonks did,” grinned Ginny proudly.

“It’s brilliant,” said Harry as they revolved slowly on the spot. “I’ve never had so many presents in my life.”

“And you deserve every single one of them,” said Ginny, squeezing his shoulder.

He gave her a lopsided smile before looking around them.

“Where’s Ron and Hermione?” he asked.

“Dancing together,” said Ginny, scanning the crowd. She spotted a familiar head of ginger. “There.”

Ron and Hermione were slowly revolving a few feet away. More like gawking.

Harry's mouth dropped open, but he laughed.

“Did you do that?” he asked her.

“You know it,” said Ginny. It was nice to hear his laughter again. “I’m sure we’ll get an earful of it later.”

He snorted.

“I s’pect we will.”

He grew silent for a moment.

Merlin - how she wished things could be like this more often. . .

This is what Harry deserved, to be surrounded by his friends that loved and cared about him.

Later she would speak with her mother about doing this every year - that was for sure. Things were going to be better for him from now on. . .

“Hey Gin?”

“Yeah?” Ginny’s heartbeat quickened for the second time today as she registered his tone of voice.

He suddenly stopped dancing and pulled her into a warm embrace.

“Thanks Gin,” he said. “For - everything.”

Ginny began to tremble as she felt him press a soft kiss to her ear. But she returned his embrance nonetheless as she felt her cheeks burn, kissing his cheek in turn.

“Happy birthday, Harry.”

~End~

---

*sigh* Don't you just love the Weasley brothers? This chapter and the last were in a kind of dedication, as they hold a special place in my heart (With the exception of Percy >_>)

Also, did you like Lupin's record player? Take three guesses as to where I got the idea, the first two don't count. I just thought it'd be a cute idea after watching PoA.


Thanks again!

- Layna

P.S: Oh yeah, and I almost forgot to tell you - There's a sequel! Yes, I know that some of you kept asking me for "more" and the same went with those at SIYE, so I decided to write a sequel. It's called "Kiss me Fool" and it's not as angst-driven as much as SMLOY. It's more humorous-romance with a wee iddy bit of angst. Thought I'd have a litttle fun and put my angst drive into another fanfic called, "Memories."

But thanks again for all your fantastic reviews and everything - and I hope to see you all reviewing in the sequel!