Ginny held her tongue until dinner. Hermione and Ron agreed with her. Whatever Harry had found out last night was big, and they were not about to let Harry deal with it all on his own. Watching Harry push his dinner around on his plate, Ginny put her fork down.
“Right then, let’s go,” she said standing up, pulling on Harry’s arm. Hermione and Ron stood up as well.
“What? Where are we going?” Harry asked, as he was pulled from his musings. Professor Borgin’s words kept repeating in his mind. “Going beyond revival…that was new.” The ability to bring a wizard back from the dead was mind boggling. What was beyond that?
Catching onto what his friends were up to, Harry tugged his arm away from Ginny’s grasp. Expecting this reaction, Hermione and Ron came up on either side of Harry and grabbed his elbows. Realizing he would draw unwanted attention by refusing, Harry gave in, allowing his friends to lead him out of the Great Hall.
Ginny led the group out on the grounds and down the path to the Quidditch pitch. There were no blankets this time, or stars, for that matter, as the celestial bodies were hidden behind a thick cloud cover. Stopping in the middle of the pitch, Ginny, Ron and Hermione surrounded Harry, giving him no way to escape.
Pulling out her wand, Hermione uttered “Lumos.”
“Talk, Harry,” Ginny demanded.
Harry eyed his friends wearily. He had known, in the back of his mind, that this would be coming, and the determined looks on his friends’ faces told him he would not be returning to the beckoning warmth of the castle until their curiosities were satisfied. Taking a deep breath, Harry motioned with his head to a nearby bench. Following his lead, the group walked over and sat down.
“Borgin said Voldemort is up to something.”
Ron snorted. “What’s new?” he asked sarcastically. Hermione hit him in the arm.
Studying his fingers, interwoven with Ginny’s, Harry began to understand why he did not have to carry this on his own. It was not just about him anymore. If he was going to have a future, with his friends, with Ginny, he needed their help. Taking a deep breath, Harry shared what he had learned last night, leaving out only the role Borgin’s father played in the events of the past. For some reason, Harry sensed Professor Borgin had not shared that part of his private life with many. He was willing to respect that.
When all was said and done, it was a solemn group that made its way up back to the castle.
++++
A roll of parchment tied neatly with a red silk bow landed in the middle of Harry’s empty breakfast plate, jerking Harry out of his stupor. Seconds later, he registered Ron's voice.
“Ewwww!”
Glancing over, Harry watched Ron remove a similar looking roll of parchment from his own plate and start scraping eggs off the ribbon. Looking around the Great Hall, Harry noticed students at every table were receiving similar deliveries.
Harry returned his foggy attention back to his own scroll. Sleep had not come easily to him the previous evening. Despite having shared his burden with his friends, he hadn’t been able to turn off his thoughts. Selfishly, he had considered sending Hedwig to see if Ginny would come and help him find peace. But O.W.L.s were taking their toll on her, and Harry knew she needed her sleep. So, instead, he tossed and turned and overslept. Running late, Harry had sent Ron on ahead to save him a seat, but once at breakfast, he had been unable to muster much of an appetite.
Picking up the parchment, Harry decided not being hungry might have been a good thing. He pulled one of the ties of the bow, undoing the scarlet ribbon and letting it dribble to the table. Unrolling the parchment, he read:
Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Kindly Requests
Harry James Potter and Guest’s
Presence
The Evening Following the Conclusion of Final Exams
at
The Three Broomsticks
Hogsmeade
For an Evening of
Dinner and Dancing
The Hogwarts Staff
Would Like This Opportunity to
Recognize
All Those Who Have Given
Great Service to the School
Semi-Formal Attire
(Dress Robes Optional)
“So, you got one too, eh?” Ron asked, leaning over to confirm the parchment Harry held was the same as his.
“Uh, yeah,” Harry said.
“Judging by who else got one,” Ron observed, scanning the hall, “all the prefects are invited. And it looks like Neville got one. Luna, too.”
“Oh,” Harry replied, rereading the invitation in hopes of determining if there was any way he could get out of it.
“Well, we can look at the bright side,” Ron said. “At least for this function, we already have dates.”
Harry’s cloud lifted a little and he sat up straighter. If all prefects had received an invitation, Ginny had, too. (He sometimes forgot his girlfriend was responsible for upholding the rules when she was so good at bending them.) The thought of enduring a compulsory evening of celebration was pure idiocy to Harry at the moment, but the thought of enduring it without Ginny was pure torture.
It did not sit right with Harry to simply assume Ginny would be his date. He needed to properly ask her. Spurred on by that thought, Harry reached for the platter of bangers in front of him. Even if it was Ginny, he still thought it would be easier to ask her out on a full stomach.
+++++
Lucius Malfoy’s head appeared in the fire in the Slytherin Common Room. Communicating in this manner was not his first choice, however, the Dark Lord was getting anxious, and Lucius needed information quickly. Looking around, he spied his son.
“Draco.”
“Father.”
“I understand you have been invited to a dinner, Draco.”
“How did you know?”
“You aren’t the only one I speak to at Hogwarts.”
“This place can’t even hold a proper party."
“What do you mean, Draco?”
“Dumbledore is holding it at the Three Broomsticks, of all places.”
“I’m sure it will be fine. It is an opportunity to mingle. Who else is invited?”
“The prefects…Head Boy…Head Girl and anyone else in Dumbledore’s little club.”
“I assume you mean Potter?”
"Yeah, he’ll be there with his girlfriend.”
"Girlfriend?”
“Ginny Weasley. As if he couldn’t get enough of that red-headed bunch of Mudblood lovers, he has to go and date one.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I caught them snogging on the Quidditch pitch.”
"Good."
“Good? Why good?”
Lucius reached his hand out of the fire. “Draco, I need you to do something for me.”
++++
Harry found Ginny before Transfiguration, standing beneath a window, cramming for the lesson. As his stomach flipped, he briefly wondered if eating breakfast had been a good idea after all.
“Ginny?” he asked, his voice sounding oddly formal.
“Uh, hi Harry,” she replied. Distracted by her studying, Ginny barely glanced up.
“I’d like to ask you a question, Ginny.”
“Ginny! Did you get the essay done?” Colin Creevey ran up bumping into Harry. “Sorry, Harry! Ginny, what did you put down for the order of the spell changing a muskrat into a hat? I think I’m missing a step.”
“What did you put down first?” Ginny asked, shrugging an apology at Harry and digging in her book bag for her essay. “According to the text…”
Realizing he had lost his opportunity, Harry waved at Ginny and headed down the corridor.
++++
“Hey, Gin,” Harry called as she exited the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom.
“Hi, Harry!” she said, her smile showing the strain of O.W.L.s. Hurrying over to where he stood, leaning against the wall waiting for class, she stood on her toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I’m sorry about this morning. What’s up?”
“Look, it’s the lovebirds,” drawled Draco Malfoy as he sidled past. “Five points from Gryffindor for a public display of affection in the hallway.”
“Sod off, Malfoy,” Harry snapped.
“Gentlemen,” Nathan Borgin cautioned from the doorway of his classroom. “Let’s go. We’ve got Blood Boiling spells to cover today and I don’t need a preview in the corridor.”
Harry took a step in the direction of the classroom and stopped. Dropping his book bag, he turned and wrapped his arms around Ginny. Swinging her into a dip, he snogged her thoroughly in front of his fellow classmates and professor. Set gently back on her feet, Ginny, blushing madly, blinked at Harry. Harry turned to Malfoy.
“If you’re going to take five points for a PDA, might as well make it worth it,” Harry reasoned, picking up his book bag.
“I’ll talk to you later, Ginny,” Harry called over his shoulder as he brushed by Professor Borgin, who was biting the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling. Malfoy bent down to pick something up and sullenly followed.
"You dropped this, Potter."
Harry looked up from his desk to see Malfoy enter the room, flipping through the pages of a book. "Poetry? For your girlfriend, I suppose. She doesn't deserve anything new, Potter?" he sneered as he shut it.
"Sod off, Malfoy," Harry said through gritted teeth. "Give it back."
"Here," Malfoy said tossing the book at Harry's feet. "A Weasley wouldn't know what to do with a book that wasn't secondhand."
Harry stood up and took a step toward Malfoy.
“Gentlemen!” Nathan Borgin’s voice rang out from behind them. “Seats! Now!”
Harry kept his eye on Malfoy as he leaned down, scooped up the book, and slid it back in his book bag. "Stay out of my way, Malfoy," he hissed as he sat down.
"Don't worry. I can't imagine I'd want to read anything you'd ever give her," Malfoy sneered back.
++++
Harry watched the doorway of the Great Hall at lunch. Ginny should have been here by now. She had Herboloby in twenty minutes, and it took at least ten to get to the greenhouses. Taking another bite of his stew, Harry saw a flash of auburn come streaking in his direction.
“Hey, Harry!” Ginny panted grabbing onto his shoulder to help stop her forward motion.
“Hi, Gin,” Harry said, bracing himself. “You’re in a hurry.”
“Yeah, have to run and see McGonagall before class -- something about O.W.L.s,” she explained hurriedly, leaning over Harry to grab a hard roll.
“Will you have time after class?” Harry asked, feeling the frustration build. This was getting a little old.
“Should, I think,” Ginny said, scooping up a quick bite of custard. “I’ll see you then,” she called over her shoulder, waving her roll at him in farewell.
Harry sighed as he watched the custard that had dribbled off Ginny’s spoon surf down the front of his robes.
++++
Harry threw open the door to Greenhouse Three. Potions had been excruciating. Snape, on his warpath, threatened to not dismiss any of the sixth year NEWT level students until every one of them had successfully described the known Undetectable Poisons. Threatening to put a few of the said poisons in their evening meals because of their poor performance, Snape let them go only after assigning three rolls of parchment on the subject. Now the greenhouses were empty, and Harry was moving past frustration onto anger as he made his way back to the castle.
Hoping to find Ginny in Gryffindor Tower, Harry stomped up the Grand Staircase. Looking down the fourth floor corridor, he saw Ron and Hermione exiting the library.
“Hey, Harry!” Ron called as Harry made his way upstream toward them.
“Do you know where Ginny is?” Harry asked tiredly.
“She’s in the library, Harry,” Hermione answered. “We had a last minute prefects meeting. What do you need?”
“I just want to ask her a question,” Harry muttered.
“Well, I’m sure she’ll be out in a minute. You can ask her then,” Hermione suggested.
“Oh, no he can’t. Next thing you know, he’ll be snogging my sister in the corridors again,” Ron teased unwittingly. “I heard about you loosing points for us, Potter. I’m not letting Ginny out of my sight.”
“I did not snog Ginny in the corridor on purpose! Not that I wouldn’t have,” Harry added, viewing Hermione’s amused face. “Malfoy egged us on. It’s not totally my fault!” Harry finished lamely, exhaling and rubbing his forehead with his palm in frustration. “Oh, forget it!” Throwing up his hands, he stormed off down the corridor.
“Ron, what did you do?” Ginny accused, exiting the library in time to watch Harry march off.
“Nothing! He just wanted you to ask you something, and I gave him a hard time about snogging you in front of Defense Against the Dark Arts this morning.”
“Ron!” Ginny admonished.
“Wonder what he wanted to ask?” Hermione said curious.
“Probably wanted to ask Ginny to the recognition dinner, that’s all,” Ron claimed.
“That’s all?” Ginny echoed incredulously, feeling the warmth surface in her cheeks.
“Didn’t he realize all the prefects received an invitation?” Hermione asked.
“Yeah, I told him I thought that was the case. But you know Harry. He didn’t want to assume Ginny would be his date. It’s his sense of honor or something ““
“Ronald Weasley!” Ginny rounded on her brother. “There is absolutely nothing wrong with Harry’s sense of honor!”
“I didn’t say there was!” Ron said, bewildered, turning to look at Hermione who stood there, arms crossed, toe tapping.
“Well?” she said expectantly.
++++
Ginny found Harry in the empty Transfiguration room. He sat at his desk, his elbows propped on his knees, his head in his hands. She made her way to the front of the class and sat down on the bench next to him.
“Hi,” she said quietly.
“Hi,” he replied lifting his head and letting his hands fall into his lap.
Ginny reached over and took one of his hands in her own. Harry watched, mesmerized, as she flattened his palm against hers, sliding her fingers along the tendons, over his knuckles to the tips and back again. As always, her touch was light, loving, and soothing. Harry could feel the day’s aggravation begin to diminish.
“How do you do that?” he asked.
“Do what?”
“Make me feel, I don’t know, calm and okay -- peaceful,” Harry replied, his eyes shifting from their hands to Ginny’s face.
Ginny felt her cheeks grow warm from pleasure. She shrugged her shoulders.
“You know,” Harry said, smiling at her blush, “I’ve been trying to get you alone all day.”
“Harry James Potter! You needed me alone?” she said grinning. “You aren’t proposing anything indecent, are you?”
Harry snorted. “Don’t worry. There will be several chaperones present that will make sure I don’t do anything I shouldn’t,” he said wryly.
“Damn,” Ginny said. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Harry grinned. “Ginny, would you be my date to the recognition dinner?”
“I would love to be your date,” she replied softly.
“Thank you,” Harry whispered as he leaned in knowing he was thanking her for more than a simple evening of her company.
++++
Standing on a footstool, Mr. Borgin reached up to lift the last of the late Bartholomew Borgin’s Death Chests from the overhead shelf in the backroom of Borgin & Burkes. The Death Chests, intricately carved wooden boxes depicting the Unforgivable Curses, had not sold well. Over the course of the past six months, Borgin had been forced to drop the price repeatedly to the point where he had given up attempting to break even. The two he pulled down now were the last of the lot. As he dragged them from the shelf, a bound sheath of parchment snagged on the bottom of one. Falling, it almost hit Borgin in the face, causing him to jerk back, loose his balance, and tumble off the stool. The Death Chests went flying, smashing into numerous pieces on impact.
“Damn!” Borgin exclaimed sitting up rubbing the elbow he landed on.
Brushing himself off, Borgin struggled to his feet, reaching down to pick up the cause of his accident. Must have been shoved to the back of the shelf, he thought. Flipping to the front, he grunted. Just what he needed, an addendum to a book he did not have. What would he do with this? Ever since that nosy low level Ministry worker had come looking for that book, Borgin had the feeling every aspect of his life and business was under the microscope. It would not surprise him in the least if the Ministry was going through his rubbish bins out back.
Nathan. He could send it to Nathan. After all, Bartholomew Borgin was his father. This was his legacy. It was really the least he could do.
++++
AN “ Thank you all for your feedback on the last chapter! I love the input! Makes for better storytelling!
For this chapter, I asked my amazing Beta parvatipatil if she thought it was in character for Harry to make those 5 lost points worth it as he did. She responded by saying you can’t love someone without them affecting you (in good ways), and Ginny is bold enough that it’s time Harry took after her. Hear! Hear!
Thanks for reading!
Next Chapter…the Prodigal Son returns and a gift is more than a gift…