Harry had left the DADA classroom, headed down the main staircase to the ground floor, crossed the Entrance Hall, and was almost at The Lake before he realized that he was supposed to be in NEWT-level Charms right then. He sighed heavily as he reached the beech tree beside the Lake. Skiving was so much easier than pretending to pay attention to the professors when he felt as he did. He’d barely just survived the lesson he’d just assisted with, and couldn’t fathom now sitting through one of Flitwick’s technical lectures on the progression of various Charms through the ages, which had been the topic of the majority of the lessons in November. Hardly an engaging enough subject to keep his mind off his worry for Ginny. She’d only been gone five hours, but already Harry had imagined countless dangers that could have befallen her since she’d entered the Forest.
He reached down and scooped up a handful of small stones and began tossing them morosely into the water; the dread in his stomach growing steadily with each pebble he tossed. Of course, he thought bitterly, coming down to the Lake had probably been a stupid idea: all it did was remind him of the stolen hour the two of them had spent down here in Ginny’s fifth year. Allowing his memory of that time to torture him for a bit, Harry was unaware what was going on around him and was therefore startled by a tremendous splash as the Giant Squid suddenly reared up out of the water. Harry jumped back, away from the clearly annoyed creature, realizing he must have hit it with one of the stones.
Before he could think how to placate it, Harry heard movement to his left; Neville was hurrying up to him along the shore, his arms full of plants. “I’ve got it, Harry,” he called and quickly reached for a clump of tall stems at the water’s edge. Yanking them out of the water, he thrust them towards the Squid’s mouth. With a satisfied grunt, the creature accepted the plants and sank below the water’s surface once more.
“Thanks,” Harry said, gratefully.
“Don’t mention it,” Neville replied, rearranging the collection of specimens in his arms.
“Is that its favourite plant?”
Neville shook his head. “The Squid’s a carnivore. It likes to suck the beetles off the bottom of the stems, though.”
Harry nodded but didn’t reply. Chilly all of a sudden, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his school robes, and stared out across the Lake again, trying to remember what Ginny had been wearing as she’d entered the Forest and wondering if she would remember the spell to conjure a coat.
Neville peered closely at him for a few moments. “She’ll be all right, Harry,” he said eventually.
“You don’t know that,” Harry shot back, his tone accusatory.
Neville simply looked calmly at his worried friend. “Harry, you forget ... I’ve fought alongside Ginny more often than you.”
Harry was taken aback at that until he realized the truth of the statement. Just the year before, the two of them had done well holding their own against the Death Eaters controlling the castle.
“She’s strong,” Neville went on, “she’s clever, and she can think on her feet in battle. She’ll be all right, Harry.” He didn’t wait for a reply, but turned and quietly walked away.
Harry watched him go, wondering if he could let himself believe that.
Harry awoke with a start at about four in the morning, having only just managed to drift off at about two. Lying in the dark, staring blurrily at the underside of his canopy, he sighed audibly. Deciding he wouldn’t fool himself into believing he could fall asleep again, he snatched up his glasses and dragged his weary body from the bed.
A few minutes later, fully dressed, he settled himself into an armchair in the common room, ostensibly to work on some lesson ideas for after Christmas, but instead simply gazing into the fire the house elves apparently recently stoked as it was blazing merrily in the grate.
He must have nodded off after all, for he was awoken by the usual parade of Gryffindors stampeding through the room just before eight o’clock as they began their day. Many had the Task on their minds, as evidenced by the snatches of conversation Harry heard as they hurried past him on their way to breakfast.
Harry joined Ron and Hermione when they appeared, even though he had no appetite at all. They didn’t bother to speak much to him once they were seated at the Gryffindor table, knowing full well how anxious he was. After pushing some food around his plate for a few minutes, Harry looked up at both of his friends. “How long do you think it will be before they“”
He didn’t get to finish his question as just then Penelope Lainye’s amplified voice blared out across the Great Hall. “Your attention, please!” she cried. “One champion has been spotted nearing the edge of the Forest.”
The breakfasting students broke into excited chatter and many were on their feet even before Ms Lainye added, “Professor McGonagall has assured me that those wishing to make their way to the Quidditch Pitch for the first arrival will not be penalized if they are late for their first lesson.”
By the size of the crowd assembled in the stands a few moments later, it was unlikely that any student would be present for their first lesson of the day. As all of the professors seemed to be waiting alongside their pupils, it was probably just as well.
At just before nine o’clock, a few sharp-eyed individuals in the crowd cried out almost as one, “There! Over by the path!”
Harry knew instantly that it wasn’t Ginny; the champion heading out of the Forbidden Forest had hair that was much too blond to be on a Weasley’s head. He sighed despondently. Although the return of a champion other than Ginny would mean she would get a higher point value than at least one other competitor, Harry did not find this comforting.
Only mildly interested, he nevertheless watched as Ivan led a Jarvey into the middle of the Quidditch Pitch. Looking like an overgrown ferret, the animal was muttering to itself as it was persuaded to stop before the judges’ table for inspection. After telling Ms Lainye that she was ugly, and trying to spit on Ivan, it shook itself like a disgruntled cat, its eyes registering its contempt at the proceedings. Hagrid rushed up to examine it to ensure it was unharmed, and as the big man slipped a lead over its head, the creature promptly told him where he could stick the thick rope. After a brief consultation, the judges announced that Ivan’s point values would be determined upon the return of the other champions.
Giselle was the next to return, at about six o’clock. This prompted Ron to complain, as they all trooped out of the Great Hall for the second time that day, “Well, if they’re all going to interrupt a meal ...”
If the assembled students had been excited when Ivan returned, they were downright awed when they saw the creature that Giselle had found. She emerged from the Forest leading a young unicorn, and the jubilant cheers of the crowd for her return turned to ‘oohs’ and ‘ahs’ when they saw it. Its coat had changed with age and it was no longer golden in colour, but was the silvery-white of an adolescent unicorn.
The creature held no particular fascination for Harry, and with still no sign of Ginny, he turned to Ron and Hermione. “I’m going to find McGonagall. This has gone on long enough.”
He found her conferring with the judges and told her he needed to speak with her. She broke off in mid-sentence, looking surprised at his request and Harry realized that he had been rude in not waiting for her to finish her conversation before addressing her. She must have sensed his apprehension, though, for she didn’t comment on his behaviour, but immediately excused herself from the others and followed him.
When they were alone, Harry blurted out, “You have to stop this. She’s not back yet and“”
McGonagall held up her hand. “I know, Harry, I know how anxious you are, and indeed so am I. But we needn’t be, not really.” She must have known Harry was going to interrupt because she hurriedly continued, “There are safeguards in place.”
“Safeguards?” Harry echoed doubtfully.
“All of the champions had a Tracing Spell placed on them as they set off into the Forest, and at the time limit ...” She took out her pocket watch and glanced at it. “In less than three hours time, the judges, the staff, and I will be able to find her quite readily, I assure you.” Something had caught her attention in the distance and she added, “But that won’t be necessary.”
Harry frowned, puzzled. McGonagall pointed to a figure in the sky, heading for the Quidditch Pitch. “Because here she is now.”
Sure enough, Ginny was soaring down towards them all, astride a large Thestral. The animal landed more lightly than one would think for one its size, and as Hagrid rushed up to tend to the animal, Ginny dismounted, somewhat shakily. Her robes were muddy, the hem jagged and torn, and her temple sported the remnants of a large gash. It was no longer bleeding, but was raw-looking and still partly-covered with dried blood.
The gathered crowd once again roared their approval, even louder than before, but Harry, sprinting past McGonagall, didn’t hear anything. Before he could reach Ginny’s side, he was pushed away by Madam Pomfrey who examined her carefully. She led the young woman to the champions’ tent to tend to her injuries. It was only later, once the scores had been announced and the crowd had drifted off to a late meal, that the trio had time alone with Ginny.
As they sat with her on one of the beds in the tent, they were all eager for details about what had happened in the Forest. Ginny sighed. “Well, you’re all going to be disappointed as it wasn’t very interesting.”
“Not interesting?” Ron cried. “How could it not be interesting? You just won the First Task!”
“But how did I win?” Ginny shot back.
Ron shrugged. “The Thestral.”
“The unicorn that Giselle found gave her a higher creature score,” Hermione added, “but since you returned last, you were allotted more points.”
“No!” Ginny said sharply, and winced. Her hand went to the cut on her temple. Madam Pomfrey had repaired it, but it was obviously still tender. “I mean,” she went on, more quietly, “how did I win when I didn’t do anything?” She sighed heavily. “I headed into the Forest, knowing that there had been some unicorn babies born a few months ago “ you remember Hagrid had told us?” They nodded. “Well, I stuck to the path, knowing in which general direction the unicorns had been when Hagrid had last seen them. I spent the majority of that first day walking, stopping only to eat when I was too hungry to keep going. I had Transfigured the food I had the first time I stopped to eat, to make sure I’d have enough for the entire time.” She paused to smile at Hermione, who beamed at her.
“After I ate, I would keep walking. It was evening, about twelve hours from the start, when I was startled by something. It was dark and the Forest was starting to get frightening with the sounds of Merlin-only-knows what creatures when I heard something, I don’t know what, but it had sounded like it came from the sky. When I looked up, I tripped on a branch or something on the ground. The last thing I remembered was seeing the steep hill in front of me and then starting to fall headlong down it.” Hermione sucked in her breath and Ron put his arm around her, although he kept his eyes on his sister.
“Go on,” he urged.
“Well, I must have been knocked unconscious because when I came to, it was late morning and very cold. I was dizzy and hungry and my head was bleeding. There was something warm and wet on my face but it wasn’t the blood from the cut. It was a tongue, and it was rough, like sandpaper. When I opened my eyes, I saw a Thestral standing there, and realized it was licking the blood from my face. It was alone and once I was less dizzy, I saw that it was hurt as well. One of its legs was cut. I bandaged it up as best I could with parts of my robe. We stayed together until late afternoon while we both regained our strength, and then I asked it to fly me back here. I didn’t know it if would understand, but it must have. I had no idea what time it was, what the others had managed to do, or what my points would be. I was just concentrating on staying alive and finding my way back.” She looked at her friends imploringly. “How could I win? How did I get the most points when I didn’t do anything? It was just plain luck!”
The atmosphere was jubilant in the Gryffindor common room that night. The place was packed, music was blaring, students were dancing, the Butterbeer was flowing freely, and at regular intervals, at least one Gryffindor would either call for three cheers for Ginny, or else a chorus of ‘Weasley is our Queen’ would burst from the crowd.
As Harry waded through the party-goers, Ron and Hermione following in his wake, he was eager to find the guest of honour. Ginny had barely touched her dinner and without a word to any of them had promptly left the Great Hall shortly after it had begun. Harry had presumed she was looking for some peace and quiet and he thought grimly that she wasn’t going to find it in this room, the noise level, if possible, having increased dramatically in the few moments since his arrival.
As the trio made their slow progress across the room, Harry was amazed that people he had never spoken more than a few words to kept coming up to him and extending their hands or thumping him on the back and saying things like, “Well done, Harry!” (As if he’d had anything to do with Ginny’s win) or, “Great woman you’ve got there, Potter!” He accepted the comments and handshakes in the good-natured way they were offered but when the last congratulatory student had turned back to the celebration, Harry muttered to Ron and Hermione, “Did you hear that lot? Like I own her or something,” before scanning the room for Ginny. He thought he caught a glimpse but the crowd had swallowed her again before he could be sure.
Vaguely, he heard Hermione say behind him, “Isn’t that sweet, Ron? What he said ... Wasn’t it romant“”
“Don’t say it,” Ron snapped at her. “Don’t even say it.”
Harry turned just in time to see the hurt look creasing Hermione’s forehead. It was gone the next instant, however, and, her eyes flashing in anger, she retorted, “Well, you don’t have to shout, Ronald, I was just “”
“I know what you ‘just’,” Ron replied hotly, “and you know something? You might be brilliant, Hermione, but sometimes, you don’t know anything!” With that, he strode away, soon disappearing into the knots of people filling the room.
“Couldn’t have waited one month ...” Harry muttered to himself.
Or, rather, what he thought was himself until Hermione rounded on him and demanded, “What did you say?”
But Harry had spotted Ginny, breaking away from a group of admirers and heading, alone, for the fireplace furthest from the crowd. With a brief, sympathetic pat on Hermione’s shoulder, he left her with her face displaying equal parts anger and shock, and headed over to his fiancee.
He could hear Hermione spluttering behind him, but he couldn’t explain now, he had seen the look on Ginny’s face and thought he had a pretty good idea from where it came. She looked like he’d felt after escaping from the cemetery the night Voldemort returned, after destroying the Philosopher’s Stone, after destroying the diary-Horcrux, after he’d evaded hundreds of Dementors the night he’d met Sirius, all the events of his life when he had somehow managed to survive.
Figuring she probably didn’t desire much conversation at that particular moment, when he reached the settee Harry merely took a seat beside her without a word. They both stared into the fire for a few minutes.
It was Ginny who spoke first. With an impatient gesture, she shook her head and asked, “Why do they do that? Why do they act like I’m the big hero when all I did was manage not to die?”
“I know,” Harry agreed. “It’s like that though. Was for me anyway. These things always tend to“”
“Seem cooler than they really were,” finished a voice behind them and they both turned to see Ron standing there.
“Everyone thinks its gotta be all clever moves and flashes of brilliance,” Ron went on, “but when it comes right down to it, it’s really just sheer, dumb luck.”
“He’s right,” Harry put in, “it usually is. And he should know ...” he added with a glance at Ron, who grinned. Harry knew that they were both thinking of the day Ron had saved Harry’s life and claimed the Sword of Gryffindor. Ginny didn’t speak right away.
“Thanks,” she said eventually. “That did help. Loads.”
“Good,” Ron said. “Now, just a quick snog with this bloke and then off to bed.” He turned and, adroitly avoiding the punch Harry threw, laughed and strolled back to the celebrating Gryffindors.
Harry was suddenly reminded strongly of George.
“I’ve had enough,” Ginny whispered to her friends across the table at breakfast the next morning. They nodded their understanding. The number of students congratulating her on her win had not lessened since the night before. It had been difficult for her to eat while receiving expressions of praise and accompanying slaps on the back. “I think I’ll head over to Herbology early.”
Neville got to his feet as she did. “I’ll walk with you,” he said. “I told Pomona I’d check on the Venemous Tentacula. It’s been acting strangely lately and is looking rather more pink than red. We think it picked up an infection from the ...”
Neville’s voice faded away as they two of them headed for the door. Harry grinned to himself at Neville’s extensive knowledge of plants and herbs as he stabbed his fork into a fifth fried tomato. He was in exceptionally high spirits; Ginny was back safe and well, the next task wasn’t for another three whole months, and Ron and Hermione had evidently made it up since their spat the night before. Life was good.
He was still chewing when he heard a tentative voice behind him. “Um, Mr. Potter, sir?”
Surprised, Harry turned to see a tiny first year, practically trembling where he stood. Harry smiled at him as he swallowed his mouthful. “Yes?” he answered, as gently as he could. “What is it?”
“Um, I have a message, sir.” The boy chanced a glance at Ron and Hermione but looked even more nervous than before. With a gulp, he fixed his gaze on Harry again. “From Professor McGonagall.” With a shaking hand, he held out a folded piece of parchment which Harry took from him.
“Thank you,” Harry said. He had barely finished the words before the boy gulped again and fled back to the safety of the Hufflepuff table. Harry and his friends watched, bemused, as the youngster was greeted at his own table by a group of equally small students who now regarded their housemate with visible awe.
“So what does McGonagall want?” Ron asked, as they turned their attention back to their own table. Harry shrugged and opened the note.
“Doesn’t say much,” he told them. “Just to meet at her office. He tucked the note into an inside pocket of his robes and stood up. “I’ll go now. Might be important.”
He headed out after Neville and Ginny who were, he was surprised to see, still near the door. As he approached them, he realized why: Ivan, the Durmstrang champion, was speaking to Ginny, his back to Harry.
“ ... ingenuity and courage. Miss Weasley, you are a worthy opponent.” Ivan bobbed his head in an abbreviated bow.
Looking slightly embarrassed, Ginny smiled and thanked him.
“A worthy opponent and escort,” he added. “Would you do me the honour of accompanying me to the Yule Ball next month?”
Ginny’s embarrassment deepened, and her cheeks flushed. “Thank you,” she began hesitantly, “I’m flattered. I really am. But I’m seeing someone. Um, I’m engaged in fact.”
Ivan glanced quickly at Neville. “Oh,” he said, awkwardly.
Ginny caught sight of Harry for the first time and quickly looked away, trying not to laugh. “Yes,” she went on. “You might have heard of him. His name’s Harry Potter.”
Harry shifted his position slightly so he could see Ivan’s reaction. The young man’s eyes widened ever so slightly and he gave her another little head bob. “The only worthy choice for such a woman,” he murmured before turning and walking away.
Harry drew up to her and smirked. “I see your suitors are starting to line up ...”
Her eyes twinkled mischievously at him. “Mmm ...” she said, pretending to think about it. “I guess that’s competition for you, isn’t it?” She turned to where Ivan had retreated to the Slytherin table. “Of course, maybe I should have taken him up on his offer. It’s not like anyone else has asked“”
Harry reached out abruptly and clasped her waist to pull her to him. “You’ll go with me.”
Ginny pulled away slightly and raised her eyebrows. “Is that an order?” she snapped, her eyes no longer twinkling.
He leaned in so only she could hear as he whispered, “No. A plea.”
“Oh. In that case ...” she replied. “My answer’s ‘yes’.”
Harry stood directly before the new gargoyle outside of McGonagall’s office and announced, “Harry Potter to see Profess“”
“I know who you are Harry Potter,” the gargoyle said, cutting him off. “The headmistress is expecting you.” He slid sideways, revealing the staircase beyond. Harry stepped onto it, wondering what it was that McGonagall wished to see him about.
“Ah yes, Harry,” she responded after he’d knocked and gained entrance to her private sanctum. “I won’t keep you. I realize you have lessons with which to assist. I just wished you to know that despite the delay since your petition, the staff and I have decided to honour your request.”
Harry’s confusion must have shown on his face for McGonagall quickly added, “To place Professor Snape’s portrait in here.” She gestured to the spot behind her desk, and looking at the place she’d indicated, Harry could see that Snape’s portrait had indeed been placed where he’d requested, next to Dumbledore’s. The two inhabitants of the portraits were conversing quietly together, neither looking at Harry, so he turned his attention back to the headmistress.
“Thank you, Minerva,” he said simply. “If you could pass on my thanks ...?”
“Certainly, Harry.”
He glanced up at Snape’s portrait again, wondering if he should say anything, if there was anything to say, but the former headmaster was still talking with Dumbledore.
“Enjoy your day, Harry,” McGonagall said, and Harry caught the slightly dismissive note to her tone.
“You, too,” he replied, and turned to leave. Before he’d reached the door, however, he heard his name. Glancing back, he saw Snape had ceased his conversation with Dumbledore, and his familiar black eyes were now fixed intently on Harry’s.
“Potter,” Snape began, “the Dark Lor“” He stopped. “Riddle ... never understood why I did what I did, why I was loyal to Dumbledore, why I could never betray the memory of“ ” He stopped and cleared his throat.
When Snape continued, Harry was surprised that the other man’s eyes had softened, ever so slightly. “I don’t think he was ever able to understand. I am ...” He paused again and Harry knew he was searching for just the right word.
“ ... grateful that you are.”
Harry didn’t know what to say. He could tell that Dumbledore was beaming in his frame, but chose not to look at him. Instead, he simply nodded to Snape, and headed from the room.
As Happily Ever After As They're Gonna Get by cjbaggins
Chapter Endnotes:
Author’s Note:
Well, it’s been a long wait (I can’t believe it’s been 4 months!), but I hope the length of the chapter helps to make up for that. The next chapter is already written, so stay tuned!
The information about the creatures I used were all taken from the series and from Ms Rowling’s book, Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them.
cj