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Right Under His Nose
Chapter Thirteen: It's Like Magic!
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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? :)
***