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Ginny's Gift by Ashwinder

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Ginny's Gift, Chapter Two



Almost as soon as Harry got out of the car, he found himself enveloped in a motherly hug. Mrs Weasley had been awaiting their arrival in the small yard. "Happy birthday, Harry dear," she said as she released him. "I've got lunch all ready for us. Just take your things up to Ron's room for now. You can unpack after we've eaten."



Harry went over to magic his trunk out of the car's boot, glancing as he did so at the Ministry chauffeur who was standing rigidly beside the car like a statue. Harry hadn't paid much attention to the driver at the Durselys', and on the drive to the Burrow he'd been seated behind the driver's seat. But Harry took notice now. The chauffeur's eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, and he was almost unnaturally tall. Harry wondered how he'd managed to fit his long legs beneath the steering wheel.



The Burrow didn't seem to have changed very much since the last time Harry had seen it in the summer after his fourth year. The chickens were still milling about, the house itself looked as if it might fall down any minute, as did the tumbledown garage behind it, and there was still a rusty cauldron by the front door, looking as if it hadn't been touched in the interim. Several pairs of wellington boots lay in a heap by the front door, but the heap was smaller than it used to be. Only Ron and Ginny were still living at home. Percy had married and moved into a flat off Diagon Alley, while the twins lived in Hogsmeade, where they had jobs developing new products for Zonko's.



Harry quickly put his things in Ron's room at the top of the house, before heading back to the kitchen, where he intended to enjoy enough lunch to make up for his frugal breakfast. As he took his place at the table, he spied that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet on the counter. Picking it up, he looked at the headline, which was accompanied by a photo of the Dark Mark twinkling like so many ghastly stars over the ruins of a house, proclaiming another horrific Death Eater attack. The topic of Voldemort's latest activities had been judiciously avoided on the journey over, almost as if there had been an unspoken agreement between the teenagers, but Harry knew the situation was bad. In a sense, he did not need to ask for news; he had his own personal Voldemort sensor in the form of his scar.



Harry felt someone's gaze upon him. Looking up, he met Mrs Weasley's brown eyes. In the excitement of his arrival, he hadn't noticed the lines of care that were etched more deeply on her face, but now they stood out. Harry knew she must be extremely worried about her two eldest sons who were involved in fighting the enemy so far away from home.



"It's bad, isn't it?" Harry asked, perhaps needlessly. He'd heard from Sirius that Dark forces seemed to be gaining ground everywhere in Europe.



"Worse every day," she replied gravely, and Harry was struck by the fact that she hadn't tried to brush the matter aside. She'd answered him as one adult to another.



When everyone was seated around the table, however, Mrs Weasley steered the conversation to happier topics. In spite of this, there remained in the kitchen an underlying tension, a sort of tacit acknowledgement that things were not as they should be in the world.



Harry noticed that Ginny was not taking part in the chatter over the meal. He stole occasional glances at her across the table. The signs of exhaustion were more evident than ever in her face. Her freckles stood out in sharp contrast against the pallor of her skin, and there were purplish smudges under her eyes. It wouldn't surprise him if she fell asleep in her plate of chicken casserole.



"Aren't you going to eat anything, Ginny?"



As Harry watched, Ginny started in her seat at her mother's sudden words. Ginny's plate had only been picked at.



"Sorry, Mum," she mumbled. "I'm just not that hungry."



Mrs Weasley waited expectantly, pursing her lips, and Ginny obediently picked up her fork and took a bite, but the moment her mother looked the other way, the fork was set down again.



After lunch all four teenagers trooped up the stairs, Ginny leaving them at her room and closing the door behind her, while the other three continued on to Ron's room. It was still very orange, if less violently so; the colour had faded somewhat with time. Harry moved to unpack his trunk but immediately thought better of it. He didn't want Hermione to spot the book Sirius had given him. He knew she'd definitely want to look at it but would not likely be thrilled with its subject matter. There was also Ginny's gift which he was supposed to be keeping secret.



"So what's with Ginny?" Harry asked, as the three of them sat on Ron's bed.



"Dunno. She's been acting strange all summer. I've hardly seen her. She sleeps a lot."



"It's very odd," put in Hermione. "I arrived yesterday, and she was asleep. Yet I have no idea when she came to bed last night. It must have been very late."



"Mum's been really worried," added Ron. "But no one can get anything out of her. She just says she's tired."



Harry had a nasty thought. "You don't think this is anything like second year, do you? You know, with the diary?"



Ron shrugged. "She was jumpy then, I guess. Not sleepy."



Hermione looked thoughtful. "It doesn't seem to me she'd go messing with any sort of diary again, let alone a magic one, or anything Dark for that matter, after what she went through her first year. I haven't seen much of her since I've been here, but she seems to me to be acting tired, just as she says."



"But if she's so tired, why didn't she come to bed last night?" Ron pointed this out with a bit of a grin that he'd caught Hermione in an apparent contradiction.



"Maybe the reason she's so tired is because she stays up till all hours. Honestly, why don't you just ask her what she's been getting up to?"



"I tried. She's not telling. And she's not telling Mum, either, whatever it is."



Harry wondered if any of this had to do with Ginny's sudden decision to give him a birthday present. He considered telling Ron and Hermione about it, but something held him back. She'd asked him to keep it a secret. He'd assumed the reason for this was to avoid her brothers' teasing, but now he wasn't so certain. She'd mentioned in her note something about everything being done properly for the magic to work. Perhaps one of the conditions was secrecy. But the only way he'd find out was to ask Ginny herself about it. He have to wait for the right opportunity to do that without anyone else finding out.



"I had a note from Sirius last night," Harry said to change the subject. "He's being sent on some secret mission and can't come to the party tonight."



"Oh no!" exclaimed Hermione. "I hope he'll be all right."



"Me too," said Harry.



Sirius had gone on similar assignments often enough in the past, and Harry knew his godfather could effectively disguise himself, but he suddenly felt uneasy. Hermione and Ron must have felt it as well, for silence fell and they all stared at each other, as the tension that had been present since lunch made itself palpable. A bubble of anger welled up in Harry at the powerlessness he felt at still being in school. As of today he was an adult--he, Ron and Hermione all were now--and yet there was nothing he could do to help in the war until he'd finished school. He wanted to be allowed to act, but his hands were tied.



Ron stood up, pacing restlessly. Hermione watched him for a bit before saying, "Let's go for a walk. You coming, Harry?"



"No, you two go on. I'll unpack my things a bit."



Harry knew they'd be safe in the immediate vicinity of the Burrow. A large perimeter had been magically warded off around the property. No one could Apparate or Disapparate, and no one could even approach without their presence being detected. The only ways in or out were by the lane or by Floo powder, and even the Floo network was less extensive than it used to be. Each wizarding home had become a solitary outpost in the struggle. Security was very tight, not only because of Harry's presence, but because the Weasley family in general was very active in the fight against Voldemort.



After unpacking his trunk, making sure both Ginny's and Sirius' gifts remained well hidden, Harry decided to seek out Ginny and ask her about the necklace. He hesitated on the landing in front of her bedroom door, which was tightly shut, a silent barrier to her domain. Was she even in there? If she was, it didn't look as if she wanted to be disturbed. He raised a hand to knock anyway, but voices rising from below stopped him. Perhaps she was downstairs after all.



Continuing down towards the kitchen, he stopped on the threshold, as he recognised Mrs Weasley's worried voice. "…and she didn't eat more than two bites at lunch." Harry knew immediately whom Mrs. Weasley was discussing.



"What more can we do, Molly? She refuses to tell us what's going on with her," Mr Weasley's voice replied. Harry thought this was rather odd, as it was the middle of the afternoon, and Mr Weasley ought to be at the Ministry still.



"She's shut herself up in her room now. I haven't seen her since. Arthur, this has been going on all summer. I think you should have a talk with her."


Harry leaned forward to look into the kitchen and saw Mrs Weasley kneeling in front of the fireplace. She was obviously communicating with her husband through the fire. He experienced a twinge of guilt at eavesdropping, but he was too curious to see what he could find out to stop."



"I'll try." Mr. Weasley sounded resigned. "But I don't see where it's going to get us."



"Arthur, she's been using your shed. Surely you have a right to know what for."



"She told me it was for some project she had to do over the holidays as homework."



"And I don't understand how you could accept that explanation." Mrs Weasley's voice had gone rather shrill. "You know quite well she's not supposed to use magic outside school. What if she'd been Muggle-born? She couldn't have done any sort of school work involving magic without being caught at it. School work indeed!"



Whatever Mr Weasley's reply was, Harry was unable to hear it. He imagined that Mr Weasley had muttered something apologetic.



"Tonight's Harry's party, but immediately after it's over, you're going to tell her this has to stop."



Harry decided he'd heard enough. He walked quietly back to the stairs and crossed the floor once more, making a considerable amount of noise. The voices in the kitchen fell silent. With a wave in passing to Mrs Weasley, Harry went outside to enjoy the sunshine and ponder what he'd just heard.



*



Harry's birthday supper was held out in the garden. The celebrants might have been able to fit themselves around the kitchen table, but they would have been overly crowded, and the evening was warm and pleasant. Percy and Penelope had arrived at about the same time as Mr Weasley came home from work. They were closely followed by Fred and George, who arrived with a great deal of noise bearing a large quantity of Dr Filibuster's Fireworks. Ginny put in an appearance not long afterward, having changed into robes and looking a good deal more refreshed than she had earlier. She had seemingly spent the afternoon napping.



After consuming a large slice of gooey, home-made chocolate cake, Harry turned to his birthday presents. Mrs Weasley had knit him a cotton jumper in Gryffindor colours of deep red and gold, as well as several pair of socks. Ron had got him a Chudley Cannons T-shirt, on which an orange-robed Chaser could be seen scoring a spectacular goal… over and over and over; the image on the shirt moved, just as wizarding photographs did.



Harry was quite pleased. "Thanks! I really need some new clothes," he said, looking ruefully down at his oversized sweatshirt and too short jeans. "I can't wait to get rid of these."



"You can get some new things when we go into Diagon Alley for your school things, dear," put in Mrs Weasley.



Harry considered. What he really wanted were some proper Muggle clothes, and he admitted as much. "Isn't there anywhere I could get some in Ottery St. Catchpole?" he asked.



"Not a whole lot of choice in the village," said George. "If you want something really fashionable, you've got to go to London." Everyone stared at George. The patterned shirt he was wearing had a shade of fuchsia in it that clashed horribly with his hair. "What? I'm not allowed to have an opinion on fashion? I'll have you know I bought this in a very posh shop in Oxford Street."



Fred, who was seated next to Harry, rolled his eyes and told him in a confidential tone, "You don't know how many times I've tried to hide that monstrosity. He keeps finding it, though." Now that the twins were making their own money, they had proven to have quite divergent taste, but it was much easier to tell them apart than it used to be.



"Right," said Harry, as he pulled the twins' present towards him with a certain amount of trepidation. As he hesitated before beginning to undo the wrapping, Fred said, "Don't worry. It won't explode. Not that one, anyway."



"Nah, we save the exploding presents for Percy," added George. Ron had written to Harry describing how the twins had caused a stir at Percy and Penelope's wedding last summer by giving them a gift that had blown apart when it was unwrapped, showering the room with some Muggle articles of rather dubious origin. Ron had heard mention of them shopping for the gift in Soho. The twins had escaped their mother's wrath by making the excuse that Percy was supposed to unwrap that particular box on his honeymoon.



Harry opened the twins' present and found an assortment of Zonko's items, including some that weren't yet available to the general public. A smirking Fred pointed out a prototype Lock-picker, "guaranteed to open any lock". "Reckon you can make use of this at Hogwarts," he said with a nudge. "I know I would have loved to have one while I was there."



The twins themselves had shown Harry how to pick lock using a hairpin several years previous, but the hairpin method didn't work on the magical locks that could be found at Hogwarts.



Harry thanked the twins and turned to his last package. It was from Hermione, and from its shape Harry could tell it was a book. He raised an eyebrow at her, as he undid the wrapping. He thought her facial expression was a bit suspect--she looked quite pleased with herself about something--especially when he pulled out a copy of Hogwarts: A History.



"Erm, thanks, Hermione." He knew he didn't sound very convincing.



Ron turned to her. "You think you're going to convince him to read that just because you gave it to him for his birthday?" he asked with a laugh.



"I'll have you know there's loads of useful information in that book, Ron. If you'd only give it a try, you might like it. Aren't you going to open it, Harry? I've inscribed it."



With the eyes of the Weasley family upon him, Harry felt it would be impolite to refuse, so he opened the tome to the flyleaf and burst out laughing. He looked up at Hermione whose eyes were sparkling with mischief. Ron looked from one to the other. "What's going on?"



"Should I show him?"



"I don't know," Hermione replied airily. "He's never shown sufficient interest in the past."



"Give that here." Ron took the volume out of Harry's hands. He stared at the flyleaf for a moment, before giving Hermione a look of admiration. "Looks as if I've been had. What is that?"



"The cover magically changes to whatever title you want it to say with the proper spell. The introduction tells how to do it."



"Cool. Thanks, Hermione." Harry definitely thought a copy of Aurors' Secrets For Getting the Jump On Dark Wizards would be more useful to him than Hogwarts: A History.



Now that the presents were out of the way, it was fully dark, and the twins were preparing their fireworks display. Harry wanted to have a private word with Ginny, but he couldn't see how he'd accomplish it with the majority of her family about. Ginny herself solved this problem. As everyone placed their chairs to view the spectacle, Harry heard a soft voice in his ear.



"Meet me in my dad's shed after the party breaks up. I have something important to tell you." Harry wondered why he shivered at the feeling of her breath in his ear: the evening was quite warm.



He turned and was a bit startled to see Ginny standing so closely. "Yeah, all right."



"Bring your present." She looked at him meaningfully, and he knew which present she was referring to.



Harry was suddenly anxious for the fireworks to be over. She was going to answer his questions. For a moment, he wondered how he was going to sneak up to Ron's room and retrieve the necklace undetected. He'd known instinctively that the meeting with Ginny was meant to be kept secret. There was always the invisibility cloak, as long as he could get away on the excuse of being ready to retire for the night. As long as Ron didn't take it into his head to go to bed early as well. He stole a glance at his best friend and surmised this might not prove to be such an obstacle. Ron looked quite cosy with Hermione at the moment, and Harry could only hope they decided to make a late evening of it.



Not long after the fireworks display ended, Percy and Penelope took their leave; Percy claimed to have an early appointment at the Ministry the following day. Harry took advantage of the diversion to steal up to Ron's room, bringing his new presents, so that if anyone were to ask what he was doing up there, he could pretend to be putting them away. Moving quickly, he withdrew the invisibility cloak and the necklace from his trunk. He put his new gifts in the trunk, placing the book Hermione had given him on top of Sirius' book. Rolling the invisibility cloak into a small bundle, he hid it under Dudley's old sweatshirt, where it was easily lost in the folds of excess fabric, and went back down to the gathering.



Fred and George seemed to be getting ready to leave, as well. Ron and Hermione had moved to a bench set away from the house. Ginny had disappeared. Harry said good night to the twins and then began edging his way towards a corner of the house where he could don the invisibility cloak unobserved. Once he was invisible, he made his way around the edge of the yard towards Mr Weasley's shed.



It was very dark inside the shed, but Harry did not light his wand, since that might draw unwanted attention. Harry had never really been in here before, and he wasn't entirely sure what to expect. He had visions of tables littered with Mr Weasley's plug collection and any number of other Muggle gadgets in varying states of dismantlement. Harry removed the invisibility cloak and took a tentative step forward, whispering hoarsely, "Ginny? You in here?"



"Over here," a voice replied.



"I can't see a thing," he said softly, trying to move towards the sound of Ginny's voice but finding his way blocked by something large and metallic. He realised it was a washing machine as he felt his way around it. "Where are you?" he asked again so he wouldn't miss her in the dark.



"Here." Her voice, and he felt a hand reach out and take his arm. "Did you bring it?" she asked, as she led him to the back of the shed.



"Yeah, it's in my pocket." It was a bit unnerving talking to Ginny's disembodied voice; he couldn't see her face in the dark, and she'd let go of his arm. "Can't we have some light in here?"



"No, I don't want anybody to find out."



"Find out what? Just what have you been up to? Ron said you've been acting strangely all summer."



Harry heard her let out a breath in an exasperated manner. "Fat lot he knows. Give me the necklace."



Harry fumbled in his pocket and pulled the chain out. Their hands struck each other clumsily as he blindly tried to hand it to her. "What are you going to do?"



"You'll see."



"No, I won't," he thought. "It's pitch black in here." He didn't think she'd appreciate him voicing that thought aloud, and so he kept it to himself. He heard the sound of her robes rustling, and in the next moment, she was muttering some words he couldn't quite make out. It was an incantation, for there was a fleeting jet of golden sparks from her wand, and Harry had the briefest glimpse of her brow furrowed in concentration before they were both plunged into total darkness once more. He felt, rather than saw, the tension go out of her; it was as if she'd sagged slightly in relief.



"There," she said. "It's ready. Now the only thing left is to put it on you."



"Wait. Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"



To his surprise, she giggled. "It's silly, really."



"What is?" He was beginning to wonder if she wasn't playing some sort of elaborate trick on him. Perhaps the twins had put her up to it, although from what he'd learned from Ron, she was fully capable of dreaming this up on her own.



"This whole thing. It likely won't work."



"What is it?"



"It's a talisman." Harry raised his eyebrows, but she couldn't see that in the dark. She may have sensed his reaction, for she continued. "It's supposed to have protective properties. I put that in my note, didn't I?"



"Yes, but…"



"Last year in Defence Against the Dark Arts I had to do some research on protective talismans. I discovered that crystals like this one are particularly effective. And well, I read a few more things about it and decided to try it. It probably won't work, though."



"Why not?"


"Because for it to work properly, I had to create the gem first through magic. And not everyone can create a proper one. Anyone can try and come up with something but not necessarily one that will hold the protective spell. I've done all the steps though. All that's left is for you to wear it."



Harry hardly knew what to say to her. A number of questions raised themselves in his mind--first and foremost was why she'd done this for him--but he wasn't sure if he dared voice that one. So instead he asked, "How did you manage to make this without getting a letter from the Improper Use of Magic Office? We aren't supposed to use magic outside school."



"Same way the twins always got away with it. The Improper Use of Magic Office relies on wizards ratting on other wizards a good deal of the time. They're also more concerned with hiding magic from Muggles than anything else, so they pay more attention to Muggle-borns. They expect magic to be used at the Burrow on a regular basis. They don't expect it at Hermione's house, say, or your uncle's. Plus, that office has a lot more on its plate than catching me with the war on."



Harry supposed this made sense. He also thought it must be helpful to come from a Ministry family in Ginny's case. He asked another question. "Why did you send it to me last night, if you still had a spell to perform over it?"



"You needed to touch it before I performed the final spell. Now it won't work for anyone else but you. That's one reason why it needed to be kept a secret. It still does, though."



"Why?"



"Why do you think?" A note of irritation crept into her voice. "What do you think my brothers would say if they knew?" She paused for a breath before continuing in a calmer tone. "Come here. I have to put this on you."



Harry's heart seemed to beat a bit faster when he stepped closer to her. He felt her hands at the back of his neck, as she fumbled a bit with the clasp. The chain was very fine, and she was obviously having difficulty in the dark, but he found himself wishing she'd hurry up. Her proximity to him and the brush of her fingers against the nape of his neck were doing odd things to his stomach, and while the feeling wasn't exactly unpleasant, it was disturbing somehow.



It didn't help matters when she lifted up the neckband of his sweatshirt and slipped the gem inside. Her fingers had made more contact with his skin, and he suddenly found the evening unaccountably warm. He wished he could see her face; it might give him some clue as to what she was thinking, to what had motivated her to do this for him.



He gathered his courage. "Ginny," he said, as she stepped back at last. "Why did you do this for me?"



She didn't reply right away, and Harry imagined she'd gone rather red in the face. She might have been biting her lip, as well. Finally, he heard her draw in a breath. "Harry, I…" she began, but she never had a chance to finish.



The door to the shed burst open, and Fred's voice was heard. "Ginny? Are you in here? Mum's been looking all over."



Harry sensed Ginny stiffen beside him. Both of them remained silent.



"Come on, Gin… Lumos!" Fred had lit his wand, and the shadows fled to the corners. They could see his face now. It was broadening in a knowing grin. "Have I interrupted something? Giving Harry a special present, are we?"



"I thought you'd gone home," Ginny remarked testily.



"Not yet…" He turned and shouted outside. "Hey, George! Come see what I've found!"



Harry heard Ginny swearing under her breath. He'd never realised she had such an extensive vocabulary.



"Oh, now look at this!" George had arrived, and he sounded very gleeful. "Isn't this cosy?"



"Very," Fred replied. "Looks like we need to stay and keep an eye on things here. One of us can chaperone Ron and the other these two. What do you say we flip for it?" He began to dig in his pocket, and drew out a Knut. "Can't have these kids getting up to any funny business, after all."



"Oh, get stuffed, the both of you!" Ginny flared at her brothers. "What did Mum want?"



"Dunno, but maybe she needs to have a talk with you," Fred replied. "She has told you babies don't grow in the cabbage patch, hasn't she?"



"Yeah, and she also told me you two got dropped on your heads quite a few times when you were babies. Explains a lot, if you ask me." Ginny pushed by the twins left the shed, leaving Harry alone with Fred and George.



"Guess I'll be going in, too. It's been along day." Harry feigned a loud yawn.



"Not so fast," said George. He and his brother now stood shoulder to shoulder in the door, making quite an effective barrier. Fred and George exchanged a look. "I think we need to give you a little advice about girls first."



Fred came over to Harry and put a solicitous arm around his shoulder. "Harry, my boy, there are some things you do and some things you don't do when it comes to finding a good spot to snog in."



Harry wanted to protest that nothing of the sort was going on, but George took up immediately where his twin left off. "Take this shed, here. Nice and dark, but romantic? To be brutally honest, you could do better, mate."



Harry knew he ought to be relieved that the twins were trying to give him advice, rather than beating the stuffing out of him, but he still felt obliged to set the record straight. "Ginny and I weren't snogging."



Fred and George exchanged a sceptical look. "What were you doing then?" asked Fred, raising an eyebrow.



Bugger! Harry couldn't exactly admit to that, either. It would be at least as incriminating in the twins' eyes. "Erm…" he hedged.



"Thought so," said the twins together.



"Look, Harry," continued Fred. "We're not going to pull out the old 'she's our little sister, so watch your step' act on you. It's tired."



"Overdone," supplied George.



"Not our style. Besides, we know you'd never do anything to hurt her."



"Nah, Ron would kill you."



"If there was anything left of you after Ginny got through with you, that is."



The twins turned to go, leaving Harry to feel as if he'd just been trampled by a herd of stampeding Hippogriffs. He remained in the shed, hearing the twins shouting a very loud good night to Ron and Hermione, who must still have been occupying the garden bench.



In the next moment there was a very loud explosion. Harry ran to the door of the shed, banging into the washing machine as he passed. There was just enough moonlight to permit him to see the twins, whose faces and clothes were now blackened and smoking.



"My shirt! It's ruined!" George was crying in outrage.



Fred laughed. "Thank God for small favours. Why didn't you tell me there were more fireworks in the bag. I thought we'd set them all off."



"I thought we had, too. Imagine if that had gone off in the Floo network. No telling where we would have come out."



"No harm done, though. Let's be off."



They went into the house together, Harry following at a distance. As he climbed the steps to Ron's room, he caught a glimpse of Ginny, who was standing in her doorway, a knowing smile on her face. He had a funny feeling she'd managed to avenge herself on her brothers quite satisfactorily.