Chapter 3 First Night Entanglements
“Mum, look who I bumped into today!” Ginny screamed excitedly.
“Sorry for arriving so late, Molly. Overtime again,” sighed Mr. Weasley.
“I recognize you. You’re Oliver! You used to play Quidditch with Fred and George!” Mrs. Weasley hurried over to hug him. The entire house shook from the echo of her powerful voice as Ron and Hermione rushed downstairs. Harry slowly followed but paused distantly by the staircase.
“What the heck is that?” she complained disapprovingly, examining his ear.
“It’s called an earring, mum!” Fred suddenly appeared next to her and George waltzed closer to help pull Oliver away from her grips. It appeared the twins had just returned from their joke shop at Diagon Alley.
“I KNOW WHAT IT IS!” she seized Oliver’s head with both her hands, studying his face closely. “What in the world possessed you to do that to yourself? What a shame! To damage such a handsome face!”
“Mum, please… Oliver is a guest…” Ginny pleaded as she joined the tussle to help free him. She squeezed between the two of them and finally pried them apart.
“I”ll personally kill any one of you boys if I see one of these things in your ears or any part of your bodies!
“AND THAT INCLUDES YOU TOO, HARRY!” she pointed at him severely.
Harry forced a slight smile to appear as his eyes fell on Ginny, whose bouncing long red hair seized every angle of his view. She was now tugging playfully at Oliver’s arm. Mrs. Weasley was right, Harry thought to himself. Oliver was very handsome. Even Hermione appeared slightly smitten, but as expected, Ron hadn’t noticed. The whole episode was entirely understandable: his athletic build, commanding presence, hair that stayed in place, no glasses… Harry was beginning to feel inferior by the moment. He noticed he was nearing his height now compared to the last time they met, but begrudgingly he had to admit he would never be built like him.
“So… How did you manage to bump into each other… in such a big city… I mean… the chance of that happening?” Harry interrogated Oliver inquisitively.
Ginny shot Oliver a menacing glare. She had made him promise he wouldn’t tell them about her clumsiness this morning.
“Eh, ce matin chez Café Angeline’s,” she answered for him.
“Never heard of such a place,” Harry blurted out.
“Oliver’s going to help train Hogwarts’ students to fly this year,” she ignored Harry and continued. “I invited him to stay with us before school starts. Is that okay, mum?”
“Of course it’s okay! We have plenty of room!” bellowed Mrs. Weasley.
“Oliver, you should take Percy’s room and I’ll stay with Gin,” said Hermione.
She agreed enthusiastically, “I’ll go tidy up now.”
“Thanks, I really appreciate everything you’re doing for me. It’s nice to see all of you again,” Oliver smiled at them as the twins, Hermione, and Ron gathered around him.
“Hi Ginny,” Harry muttered as she tried to squeeze past him to get upstairs to her room to help Hermione settle in. For some reason, the stairs were very narrow tonight.
“I hope you had a good summer,” Ginny murmured flatly. “Er… you’re in my way, Harry.”
“Sorry,” he pushed himself awkwardly to the side as she sped upstairs. She could swear his hand somehow accidentally graced her waist in the emotional entanglement but she didn’t want to look back to check.
The excitement surrounding Oliver was attractive and lively but Harry was in no mood to join in; he just wanted some peace and quiet. He didn’t want to spoil their fun anyway. After all, the entire summer he was nothing but a dreary fog of shattered spirits. The pain from the loss of Sirius was still grinding him everyday, even though he had been trying desperately to suppress all the anguish. He found himself unable to move forward. Sirius was the only parent figure he got to meet, but before he was able to spend time getting to know him better, he was gone.
Ironically, the pain was manageable when he was staying at his Uncle’s. But when he arrived here, seeing all these familiar faces has put all the anguish memories squarely into the forefront again. He was beginning to regret accepting Mrs. Weasley’s invitation to come here. He would rather be alone, just like he was at his Uncle’s. He figured he ought to better get used to feeling this way, because he realized his upcoming path was only going to get worse.
“I’m going to bed. It’s nice to see you Oliver. Goodnight all,” Harry called to them. Not caring whether he had been heard, he slowly marched upstairs, looking forward to another long sleepless night when he stopped at Ginny’s doorstep. Without thinking, he made his way in.
“HARRY!” she bellowed stingily, startled by his sudden appearance and quickly banging the closet door shut. “You should knock first!”
“I did… but maybe… you couldn’t hear it… with all the noise downstairs,” he lied.
“Sorry Ginny! I thought… you… you might need some help… moving things or something. The door was open… and I…”
“You should know by now there are spells that do manual labor! I don’t need physical brute strength to move stuff!” she snapped crossly.
“I’m sorry. I guess… I better not… get in your way,” he inched out depressingly.
“HARRY, wait…” she called out apologetically, her arm outstretched. Her insides were clawing at the sight of him, standing so close to her alone in the crammed space. He was the last person she wanted to see, but now that he was by her side, she found herself unable to see him go. She knew it was a mistake; it would open up her old wounds, but she really wanted him to stay. She certainly missed him.
“You’re not in my way. Wanna… sit?” she pulled out her dresser chair and he quickly sat down obediently.
“GINNY!” Mrs. Weasley shrieked from downstairs.
“Why aren’t you with the others?” she ignored her mum’s calls and muttered weakly.
“What?” asked Harry. He couldn’t hear her because Mrs. Weasley had just let out a burst of laughter. There was also a sound of shattering glass, but he didn’t want to find out what that was. The suffocating drumming of happiness from downstairs was becoming unbearable for him.
“Can I close the door?” Harry got up and closed it before Ginny could object. He quickly sat back down on the dresser chair. For Ginny, the room abruptly became even more tiny now.
“You’re not downstairs with the others?” she repeated hesitantly, pacing around nervously.
“I was… feeling sleepy,” he lied, “So I was heading for bed… and one second… I was passing by your room… and the next second I’m sitting here talking to you."
She wasn’t paying much attention to his ramblings. In her mind, she was busy commanding herself desperately to block her mind of all thoughts, after having just caught his reflection from her dresser mirror. It wasn’t as awkward as she had imagined, even though the room was now feeling extremely tight and warm with the door closed. Deep down, she was satisfied she was able to successfully avert his bright green eyes, which according to Ginny’s imagination, were glued curiously to her every step the entire time.
“Harry, it’s Hedwig!” she pointed distractingly when she noticed his snowy oil flying towards her window.
Harry quickly dashed to the window and brought her inside. He took the letter and opened it as Ginny sat her in her lap on her bed and smoothed her feathers.
“It’s from Dumbledore,” said Harry apprehensively. Seeing Dumbledore’s name reminded him of their last conversation and it wasn’t the most pleasant one. He proceeded to read the letter out-loud.
Dear Mr. Potter:
I am delighted to announce this year our school has implemented, as an experiment, a mentoring program for our first year students.
The goal of this program is to provide our first year students with an opportunity to gain positive influence and guidance from their older schoolmates currently in their final two years of studies such as you. By sharing your valuable experiences with them, you will hopefully enlighten their young journeys during their stay at Hogwarts.
As such, based on the recommendation from the Head of your House, you have been selected to participate in this enriching and rewarding program as mentor for one student from your House.
The assignments will be done at the opening feast after the sorting ceremony, where you will be matched with your fellow first year “mentee.”
In exchange for your valued service, you will be granted credits against one elective subject of your choosing. Further details will be provided at the feast.
Please consider this as a reflection of honor and exemplary achievement that you have been selected.
Albus Dumbledore
Headmaster of Hogwarts
Cc: Professor Minerva McGonagall, Head of Gryffindor House
“Too bad Potions is not an elected subject,” Harry sighed as he unknowingly crashed next to Ginny on her bed. It appeared entirely innocent, but her heart immediately skipped a beat nonetheless. Clearly uncomfortable having him brushing up against her, she quickly got up with Hedwig and made her way to the dresser chair.
Harry was wondering whether Dumbledore and McGonagall had gone insane over the summer to select him as a mentor. Of all people, they should be the ones to know he was in no condition to mentor anyone. How could he provide a positive influence on another person, he thought miserably, when he himself was nothing more than a heap of yesterday’s grime.
“This must be some kind of sick joke. Dumbledore must have gone mad,” he chuckled bitterly. “ME? Mentoring a first year student? What a farce!
“I think I’ll do more harm than good to the poor innocent soul who would have the misfortune to be matched with me…
“Hermione gets all the good grades. Ron is prefect. The only thing I’m__”
“GGGIINNNYYYYY…”
“IN A MINUTE, MAAAAAAAA.........!”
She bolted up and roared at the floor furiously, pounding madly with her foot, obviously fed up with her mum’s constant screaming. She was so loud it appeared her puncturing voice had silenced the entire house. Hedwig immediately flew out of her arm and rushed to Harry’s shoulder.
“Ahhem… Harry. Erm…please… continue,” she lowered her voice patiently, trying to lower her blood pressure, noticing that both Hedwig and Harry were gawping at her.
“Erm… what were we just talking about?” he grinned and shook his head confusedly. He never realized such power could thunder out of those strawberry lips.
At the sight of the awkwardness, she couldn’t help but giggle herself, “About you being selected… as mentor…”
Harry’s eyes fell dejectedly to the parchment.
“Dumbledore has his reasons to select you,” she continued somewhat breathlessly, still trying to lower her heartbeat, her eyes inadvertently finding their way to his untidy jet-black hair. He needed a trim, she mused. She wanted to trim him now.
Her nostrils could feel the temperature of the air rising dramatically as her breathing became choppy and shallow, “You… have many… commendable qualities, Harry…
“It’s… not just… good grades… and being prefect and stuff like that,” her gaze was now situated at his blameless lips. He was biting at them, and it reminded her of how he used to nibble at her ears, and in her dreams, at the more intimate parts of her body as well.
“What you have… to offer… is more than… anything… in this world,” she unwittingly ceded control of her eyes, and they tumbled yearningly to his wholesome shoulders, which have seemingly broadened handsomely over the summer.
“And it’s…” she admired his heaving chest, his shirt clinging boyishly to his body.
“It’s… It’s…” she couldn’t continue as her dilated pupils now had a mind of their own. They found themselves buried intensely at his center, his thumping center, captivated by the way it was fluttering ever so gently underneath his shirt. It used to quiver for her. It once belonged to her. He once belonged to her, every inch of him. She was slipping.
Harry poked his head up just enough to meet Ginny’s scorching gaze, wondering why she was suddenly sounding very breezy.
“Oh, here you are, Harry!” Hermione suddenly stormed in. Harry immediately broke off their connection and got up from the bed.
Hermione paused curiously, sensing she had just accidentally barged in on them. She noticed both of them were blushing.
“Oh, I think I left my wand downstairs,” she lied and quickly danced out, even though she spotted Hedwig and wanted to know what she had brought.
“I better go too,” Harry followed.
It was as if Harry had shot four arrows at her heart. She didn’t want to see him go. She wanted him to stay, at least just for a little while longer. As he slowly made his way out, Hedwig started to nip hysterically at his ear.
“Ginny, thanks… for listening,” he paused at her doorway and turned around.
All she could muster was a faint nod. She quickly turned away and strolled to the window, staring bleakly at the dark skies, the shadowy stars, her vision blurred by her tears, their shine becoming opaque. Fearing for the worst, she could anticipate what he was going to do now. Why did he always have to be so courteous, she thought to herself helplessly. She was hoping he would just leave and not say them, those exact words that meant so much to them last year. Hearing them would just make her remember all those goodnight kisses they shared that were no more.
“Oh, I almost forgot…” he was still lingering by the doorway, gazing at her back. Ginny gave up. She was certain he was going to say them. She closed her eyes, squeezed every bead of heartache out of them, letting them drip uncontrollably to the floor, and readied herself for his voice that would carry those words across the room.
“Goodnight Ginny…
”I... love... you…………………
“…pleasant dreams,” he muttered warmly.
She swore she could hear him say he loved her, but she couldn’t turn around to face him and to see him go. She didn’t want to show him what he had done to her and how much he hurt her. She grabbed the curtains helplessly, telling herself she was not to display her tormented scars to him.
“Goodnight, Harry… Pleasant dreams…” she sobbed to the hazy stars.
“I love you too… Harry Potter…”
The Boy Next Door by gossipweaver
Chapter Notes: She had forgotten how small her house was. She didn’t expect he would seek peace and quiet in her room of all places. He was the last person she wanted to see. In the end, it was nothing more than a seemingly brief innocent visit, but she found herself unable to see him go…