Chapter 01
A Muggle fair had come to town, boasting of wonderful music, delicious food, and fun-for-the-whole-family rides and entertainment. A bit of a break was needed from recent tragic events, which had settled over the Burrow like a lead weight; everyone agreed that they should go.
Everyone but Harry Potter, that is.
Harry, who'd been staying with the Weasleys since two days before Bill Weasley's mid-July marriage to Fleur Delacour, had exploded over the suggestion. Why weren't they out looking for Snape, he’d asked loudly. That traitorous coward who murdered beloved Hogwarts Headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, should be found, he felt. And what about the Horcruxes that needed to be destroyed?
While many people greatly mourned the passing of Albus Dumbledore, none were as deeply affected as Harry; he had witnessed the cold-blooded murder of his teacher, confidant, and friend by the man who was said to be trusted by Dumbledore--and Harry had been powerless to stop it.
Molly Weasley tried to comfort Harry as best as she could, suggesting it would be nice for Harry to experience a fair for his birthday, but the young man was having none of it. Harry stormed off into the Weasley's backyard and began plotting new ways of torturing Snape if he ever encountered the slime ball in a dark alley.
But he’d kill me before I even knew he was there, Harry thought bitterly, as he tackled a garden gnome, spun it around, then tossed it over the bushes. Snape was quite skilled at Occlumency--something Harry had not quite mastered.
He deliberately defied Dumbledore and stopped giving me lessons, Harry thought, his brows knit together angrily as he surveyed the yard for more gnomes. Snape also opened my mind further so Voldemort could control me. Bastard.
While Harry continued to fume, everyone sat at the Weasley’s kitchen table and watched him in silence, still reeling from his outburst. Hermione, who had been staying with the Weasley’s since the end of June, stood up and declared that she would talk to Harry. She turned and began moving toward the back door, but Ginny's slender hand on her arm made her pause. Hermione glanced down at the seated girl; one look into Ginny's stricken eyes and Hermione understood that the redhead wanted some time alone with Harry.
Only Ron and Hermione noticed Ginny sigh resolutely as she stood and straightened her jumper; Bill, Charlie, and Mr. Weasley had continued their conversation pertaining to the fair and did not notice Ginny leave. Ron reached under the table and squeezed Hermione's hand, giving her a small, lopsided grin. "Thanks," he whispered near her ear, his red locks falling into his eyes.
“What for?” Hermione murmured, slightly puzzled, reaching out, unthinkingly, to brush the stray hairs up and back.
Both froze; Hermione had never done anything so forward before. She quickly snatched her hand back and began drumming her fingers on the table, not quite meeting Ron's puzzled gaze. After a moment, Ron cleared his throat. “Um, thanks--for staying here, I mean. Oh, wait--that sounded stupid; I meant--"
Fred and George, who witnessed the awkward exchange, interrupted Ron with a laugh. "Oh, come on, you twit," Fred snickered. "You've done nothing but go on about her year after year. Just tell her and get it over with."
Ron turned bright red, all the way to his ear tips. Hermione looked from the twins to Ron, her pulse quickening; however, Ron shoved his chair away from the table and sprinted towards to the upper floors.
This only caused George and Fred to laugh uproariously, garnering concerned glances from the other family members, including the newest one, Fleur. Bill Weasley's wife shook her shimmering blonde locks and rolled her sultry blue eyes, muttering something in French under her breath.
Hermione, feeling a little overwhelmed and slightly saddened by what had transpired, decided to join in on the conversation and try her best to answer Arthur Weasley's questions about Muggle fairs and and explain that cotton candy wasn’t from an actual cotton plant...
~*~*~*~*~*~
Outside, Ginny approached Harry carefully. He had been in one of his rare moods and Ginny had learned--from living with six brothers--that boys sometimes got a little out-of-hand when upset. She smiled, fondly remembering the afternoon when, after growing weary of Fred and George’s taunts, nine-year-old Ron had attempted to hex eight-year-old Ginny in their stead--because she was smaller, he admitted later.
However, Ron hadn’t bargained on Ginny retaliating with a hex of her own, causing him to turn orange and sprout greenery from the top of his head. At that moment, Ginny’s brothers realized that using magic against their little sister was not a wise idea. So Ginny decided to call Harry’s name before coming up behind him.
Harry whipped around, saw who it was, and grunted, "What do you want?"
She shrugged off his rudeness and stepped forward. "I'm supposed to keep score; Charlie wants to know if you'll beat his record of tossing seventeen garden gnomes in ten minutes," she lied, thinking quickly. At this, Harry did smile, causing Ginny's insides to relax in relief. Get him to calm down, she told herself, then maybe he'll open up about other things...
"I once saw a gnome that had been wearing bright pink pants," Ginny began, "I laughed too loudly; it scared several more out their hiding spots causing Fred and George to grow as giddy as, well... girls. They later told me they'd been in 'Gnome Heaven'."
Harry chuckled, kicking a rock into the bushes. Three gnomes squealed and ran this way and that--catching the attention of Crookshanks, who came speeding out of his hiding place to chase them.
They watched Crookshanks and the gnomes for several moments in silence. Ginny glanced sideways at Harry; he appeared to be lost in thought and not really looking at Hermione's cat. In that brief moment, Harry's eyes had turned from a light green to a deep, dark emerald.
It was such a surprise to see the sudden change that Ginny gasped, snapping Harry out of his reverie. "Ginny, what's wrong?" he asked with some concern.
"Oh, nothing," Ginny replied shakily. "I--I think I've just been bitten by a bug." She rubbed her arm and frowned, thinking that was the lamest excuse she'd ever heard.
But Harry shrugged, apparently buying it. "I'd like to squash him like a bug too," he muttered under his breath, turning his gaze back to Crookshanks silly antics.
"Who? Hermione's cat?"
"No. Snape." There was a small amount of venom in Harry's voice, which made Ginny a bit uncomfortable, but she kept quiet. Her purpose was to get Harry talking and he--obviously--had just begun.
"Why?"
The onslaught of words caught Ginny off guard. "Because he killed Dumbledore!" Harry nearly shouted, scaring nearly all the creatures in the Weasley's backyard. "And then he ran! How cowardly is that, might I ask? If only I had been strong enough--then I would have given that bastard the punishment he deserves."
"Harry, what more could you have done? Killed Snape?" Ginny was slightly shocked. When Harry didn’t readily reply, Ginny plundered ahead. “I--I mean, why don’t you leave the hunt for Snape to the Ministry and the Aurors?” I don’t want to see you killed; it would kill me too, she added silently.
Harry looked at Ginny with a nearly deadened expression, causing Ginny's heart to break. “The Ministry has proven useless. They think I am a fool--blaming Snape for Dumbledore’s death, but none of them saw what I did--none!”
“Harry, I don’t doubt what you saw, but for your sake... please let it go.”
“How can you say that? Have you forgotten Professor Dumbledore so quickly?” Harry’s tone had grown accusatory.
Ginny reeled back in surprise. “I never said that!”
“Then why are you discouraging me from looking for Snape? Did they,” he jerked his head towards the house, “put you up to this?”
“No!” Ginny shot back. She had a strong urge to hex him; perhaps it would bring Harry to his senses.
Harry pressed on, oblivious to Ginny’s rising temper. “You can tell everyone that I’m fine! I don’t need you hovering over me--smothering me with false affection!
Without batting an eye, Ginny’s wand was in her hand, pointed at Harry, and she shouted a Bat-Bogey Hex. “You pompous fool!” Ginny shrieked, as Harry fell over, covered in large brown bats. “Get a grip on yourself! Next time, I won’t be so nice!” With an exasperated sigh, she turned on her heel and stomped back to the house, blasting stones with her wand along the way.
“You call this ‘nice’?” Harry shouted at her, trying to rid himself of the many bats flying about his head and face. "After I kill Voldemort, I'm going to kill Severus Snape--make no mistake!"