6. 12:06 August 11, Ginny’s Door
The next morning, Harry was awoken by the sound of his door being slammed shut and someone stomping across his room. “Good morning,” he said, as he rolled out of bed and reached for his glasses. He never made it to his glasses, however, as an exploding pain erupted in his head. Blinded by the pain he felt, someone put a knee in his chest and hit him again. Unable to defend himself, and on the verge of unconsciousness, he thought he was going to die.
After a few seconds passed, Harry heard Ron’s voice, “That ought to have softened your thick skull a bit. You can go ahead and ignore Hermione, but you won’t ignore me.”
“What the hell did you hit me for?” Harry demanded, as his head continued to throb.
“Don’t play dumb with me, Potter. You know damn well what I am talking about. Hermione told be what’s been going on and that you just ignored her when she tried to talk to you. It’s time for you to pull your head out of you arse. I will not have you treating my sister that way,” he yelled.
“You’re right, Ron,” said Harry.
“Don’t give me your line of crap, Potter. You’re just lucky I don’t tell Fred and George about this. You know damn well that they… Wait, what did you say?”
“I said that you were right,” replied Harry, who had started to smile, but his throbbing head killed any hint of it.
“Damn straight,” said Ron with a very smug attitude.
“Did you have to hit me so hard?” he asked of Ron.
“Sorry about that, mate, don’t know what came over me,” he answered, all smugness gone.
“I got the new issue of Quidditch Weekly, and it has an advertisement for the new Firebolt,” blurted Ron. He was trying to avoid the awkwardness that filled the room.
“Well, let’s have a look, then,” replied Harry, who was more than willing to change the subject.
The new model Firebolt was called the Flame Strike. With a flat out speed of 175mph, dive speed of 200mph, and a charm to lighten the weight of the rider, the Flame Strike was the fastest broom in world. Ron was over the moon about it and how cool it would be to have one. Harry was quite impressed with the broom, but he did not think he could give up his Firebolt, as it was a gift Sirius.
If it wasn’t for Ron droning on and on about the broom, he would have forgotten it completely; how he was going to apologize to Ginny was foremost in his mind. He knew that the present that Hagrid was holding for him would go a long way, but he had several days until Ginny’s birthday. What to do in the mean time was his biggest dilemma. After debating this with himself most of the day, he broke down and decided to talk to Hermione, she of course being the foremost expert he knew on girls. Come to think of it, Hermione had be the mastermind behind the last few days. Since the end of summer they had spent a great deal of time talking over what they should do. Most of the time, Harry would spout how he would like to do something to or about one thing or another, and Hermione would tell him how they could do it.
As Harry walked past his room, he noticed the door was open. While investigating this he found a disturbing sight: sitting on the storage bench at the foot of his bed were Ron and Hermione. They looked as if they were in a wrestling match, with the exception that their lips seem to be glued.
“With as many rooms as this place has, you would think you two would not need my room,” said a bemused Harry.
Ron quickly jumped to his feet, dumping Hermione on to the floor; his ears matched his red hair and his face was not far behind. Ron apologized to her as he helped her off the floor. “Sorry, mate, we just came looking for you and well,” Ron did not finish the thought.
“Don’t worry about it, Ron. Hermione, can I talk to you?” Harry asked.
“Sure, Harry, what’s up?” asked Ron without a clue.
“Well, Ron, I wanted your help on how to best snog your sister,” Harry replied, sarcasm dripping with every word.
“If you didn’t want me here, all you had to do was say so,” snapped Ron as he stomped off.
Once Harry and Hermione’s eyes met, neither one could hold in their laughter. As the laughter died she asked, “So what did you want to talk to me about?”
“Well I was not entirely lying about needing your help with Ginny,” he answered. He then went on to explain his birthday present for Ginny, and that he did not know what to do until her birthday.
“Well, Harry, the only thing I can say is be nice to her, and don’t avoid her,” was all she offered.
“Well that’s a big help,” he replied disappointed.
“Sorry, Harry, that’s all I’ve got,” she said, and then added after a pause, “I don’t think getting Ginny back will be as hard as you think.” She got up and headed for the door.
Almost as an afterthought, Harry said, “Kingsley sent an owl this morning. He said that the Minister acutely liked the idea.”
Turning to face him, she asked, “When are they moving him?”
“We don’t know yet, but it will be soon. His wife will be brought into protection soon after he is moved,” he answered.
“I hope it works,” she said looking worried.
“You had better, as I am going to make sure you get full credit for your idea if it fails.” Harry said this while looking Hermione straight in the eye, trying his best to hide his laughter and failing miserably.
They both enjoyed the laugh; the next step of the plan was the hardest to predict its outcome.
“Hermione, I would like you and Ron to take my tickets for the Quidditch match,” Harry said. He quickly cut her off by adding, “With what the Order is going to have to do for protection for Ginny and me on her birthday, I don’t think its fair they should have to provide protection at the match.”
“Ok, Harry, when can I tell Ron?” As she asked this, Harry noticed the same impatient look that came over her when the library called to her.
“You had better tell him now. He did leave in a huff,” he smiled.
Over the next several days, Harry did his best to “be nice to Ginny”. Nothing in his life had been as hard. Ginny also seemed to be acting different than she had during the first few days at the Manor. She seemed happier and friendlier. She and Hermione had joined in a couple of games of two-on-two Quidditch in between lessons, although Hermione refused to play over the pond. Ron protested her refusal, saying that she was just afraid she would be knocked off her broom.
Ginny refuted this calm under her breath, “It’s more likely that she does not want you to see her in a swimming costume, you git.” She blushed when she saw the smile on Harry’s face and realized that he and heard what she said.
The four of them had started lessons almost right away. Ron was the only one to protest that it was the summer holiday and that they should not have to work this hard. So far most of their lessons to date were a review of the three oldest students’ sixth year. This was done largely for the benefit of Ginny, but Harry and Ron also benefited from these lessons as they both were not as far along as Hermione. In addition to their regular studies Occlumency was added.
As Ginny’s birthday approached, Harry’s nervousness increased. He began to question what he was going to do. If it were not for Hermione reassuring him that it was going to work, Harry was sure that he would have lost it at several points.
At just past midnight, Harry returned to Ginny’s door, just as he had every night, and she waited for him on the other side, just as she had since she heard him that first night. Raising his hand to knock, Harry almost lost his resolve.
Ginny put her hand on the door were she thought he would have his. If this was the only contact she could have with him, she would happily take it. The sudden knock on her door scared her out of her skin. On instinct she opened the door, exasperatedly asking, “What?”
“I… Hey, why were you standing so close to the door?” he asked.
“I was making sure my door was locked,” she lied quickly.
“Oh,” he said, oblivious to her lie.
“What did you want, Harry?” Ginny asked.
“Oh, oh yeah. I came to wish you a happy birthday and deliver your present.” His cheeks reddened as he said this.
“You didn’t have to do that, but since you’re here, come on in,” she said, as she pulled him though the doorway, leading him to her sitting room.
As they sat down, he remembered the present and handed it to her. “Maybe I should wait until tomorrow to open it,” said Ginny, as she looked at the present.
“Well if you think it would like to be in a box that long.” As he said this, he knew he had made her curious.
As she quickly began to open the gift, a plaintive “meow” sounded from the kitten that was not happy at the rough ride it was being given.
“Oh, Harry,” she gushed as she picked up the kitten, who was white with ginger colored spots and eyes. Its paws were huge; the lady who sold the kitten to Harry said, “That was a sign that the cat would be very big when it was full grown.”
“She doesn’t have a name yet, so you can name it whatever you want,” said Harry.
“Oh, Harry, she is so beautiful. When did you get her?” she asked.
“When we all went to Diagon Alley,” he smiled at her and the kitten.
“So this is what Hagrid was keeping in exchange for Witherwings,” she said, as she looked up at Harry.
“Yeah well, that did not work so well. Professor McGonagall ended up taking care of her. I suspect that, for Hagrid, the kitten was not dangerous enough, so he didn’t know how to handle her,” Harry said with a broad smile.
He sat there for quite a while as he watched Ginny play with her new cat, and just as he gathered enough courage to say what he really wanted to say, she spoke, “Cosmo, what do you think about that name?” The question was aimed at the kitten, which answered her by purring loudly and rolling over on its back so she could rub its belly.
After the momentary setback, Harry said, “Ginny I… I have wanted to talk to you… About… About us,” he waited on baited breath.
“Really?” she said questioningly. Ginny knew this conversation and been coming. He did not know it, but her plan was working better than she had hoped. Once she set her resolve to get him back, Ginny knew she needed help. Hermione was the only person for that job, and she had done her job well. Ginny was not going to let Harry off the hook without giving a tug or two on the string, though.
“Well yes, you see… Well I was stupid, and…. Well I wanted to protect you…. And, well, myself from getting hurt, but I realized, with a little help, of course.” He rubbed the spot were Ron had hit him as a phantom pain shouted at him. “What I realized was that if Riddle took you and tried to use you against me it didn’t matter if I had pushed you away or not. My feelings for you would be the same,” his voice almost failed as he finished.
“Ginny, I am sorr…”
“Harry, you have nothing to be sorry for. I knew why you did it, and I also knew you would come back to me,” said Ginny, deciding to take him off the hook early.
Harry started to apologize again and, yet again, she interrupted him saying, “Harry James Potter, if you keep saying you’re sorry then you will be wasting the amount of time you have to get over here and curl up with me on this couch. Not to mention the fact that you’re still not out of the dog house with me, so you had better start making up for lost time.”
Harry quickly did as he was told.