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Author: RSS Story: A Less-Than-Perfect Love Rating: Teens Setting: Post-DH Status: Completed Reviews: 10 Words: 232,639
Fleur, I hope you had a fine Halloween as well. We unfortunately had too much studying to do to think much about the day. Can I be honest? I‘ve been thinking about what you said about being physical with a boy you want to like you. I understand this, and you’re right, although I hate to admit that I’ve already made the mistake of letting Harry become physical with me. I am not sure I’m proud of this, and please don’t let Bill read this. It’s just that I have no one around to talk to. I can’t tell Mum, and most of my dormitory mates still think Harry and I are just friends. Not that we’ve slept together or anything! Please don’t think that. To be honest, I would like to, and probably would, if he could get his head together. I just feel like whenever we’re together and alone, we have so little time and usually we end up snogging pretty heavily. I have nearly no control over it when it happens. I love him, Fleur, and this is hard to not do when he’s around in any way and giving me his attention. I’ve never been great at impulse control. Do you really think if I slow it down next time, he would think more about us and the future? For Harry, I think it’s the opposite. Sometimes I wonder if I did go ahead and, err… be with him in that way, if it would open his eyes in a way? I do wish I could have the best of both worlds, where we can do those things, and he would also tell me he loves me. I fear this is awfully far off, so what do I do in the meantime? The worst part is, I’m so lost on what’s happened with us. I was sure that Harry would come home from the war and tell me he loved me. I just had an odd feeling, the way he looked at me the first time I saw him the night of the battle of Hogwarts. I could tell from that look how much he missed me and I knew he did want to be together again, but it was strange. Something shut him off after that, and ever since, I’ve been searching for it. I’ve been holding on for months now, but when it comes down to it, he claims he wants nothing beyond what we have. He told me that he doesn’t want to think of the future, and that he likes things the way they are now. I am very confused about this and it makes me so sad. Did I ruin everything because we’ve been physical? I can’t go back and undo everything I’ve done. I can’t resist it when he pulls me into a broom cupboard, either. Can you give me some advice on how I can get him to think of me as a girl he wants to spend the rest of his life with and not a distraction from his thoughts? You lured Bill to the alter, and I swore when I was ten and saw how many girlfriends he had, that he would never ever marry, since he wouldn’t be able to choose one from the other. How did you do it? I would love to know your secret. -Ginny ** Harry slammed the door to his locker closed and, with his wonderful infinitesimal luck, he caught his finger in the door. He howled. Pain coursed through him. He stuck his finger in his mouth and sucked on it, then shook it out in the air. “All right, Potter?” “No. I caught my damn finger in my locker.” “Did you get yours?” “This? The invitation?” Martin gestured with the parchment at Harry. “It’s in your box. When you do get yours, the password is, ‘palmarium victoria.’ I was supposed to tell the next person I saw. No writing it down, no saying it out loud. Commit to memory everything you see, Potter.” This was part of the Auror’s code, although for Harry, it was an annoying part. “Right.” Harry repeated the words in his head quickly three times. He turned from his colleague, and emerged into the dark stone dungeon, heading towards the lift that would lead upwards, the eight stories to the ground floor, when he heard voices. He came across Savage and Kingsley. “Ah, Harry. Just the person we were waiting to meet.” “Thank you. The opportunity to be here is very important to me, Kingsley.” Harry blinked back a few times. He had and had not been expecting this. Ron had insisted they would give it to him eventually for what he had done last May. Yet, it still made him uncomfortable. In some ways, it was a nice gesture from the Ministry, but in other ways, he didn’t really need it or care so much. “We’ve arranged for a celebration, of course.” Kingsley produced the same parchment that Martin had shown him, and Harry swallowed. He didn’t care very much for these types of events, and knew he would especially not care for one honouring him. “We usually have a gathering to ring in the New Year in style, but this has been a special year, and we’ve chosen to honour you. Here is the invitation, Potter. The password is going through our circles. Listen for it.” With that, Kingsley extended the parchment to him and he took it. Harry simply stared at it. “I’m… I’m the guest of honour?” Harry looked up, suddenly concerned as another thought popped into his mind. Rita Skeeter, and the Daily Prophet, would want to have a first row seat. If they had anything to do with this, he wasn’t coming. If he had to receive the honour, he didn’t want a media frenzy surrounding it. “Will anybody else be there? Besides the Aurors?” Harry thanked Kingsley and excused himself, clutching the invitation in his hand. He stuck it in his bag and didn’t think of it again until he was through the threshold of number twelve, Grimmauld Place, where he unrolled it at the kitchen table. “Paladium Victoria.” He touched his wand to the parchment. Nothing. “Paladmium Victoria.” Nothing still. “Palamarium Victoria.” Nothing. Giving up, he threw the parchment onto the table and went to make a sandwich. ** November 11th, 1998 Ma pauvre petite, Never will I tell Bill anything you share with me, unless it is for your safety. Harry will not hurt you. This, I am sure of. This is the boy who saved my dearest Gabrielle when he did not have to, and saved this country, nearly sacrificing his own life. He is a good man. Both of us know this. The one mistake you have made with Harry is letting him have the best of both the worlds. You give him your love very physically, and you do not demand from him words of love? This is wrong, and he should know that it is. Besides that, you are so young, and these things can wait. Ginny, if you want Harry to be your lover, he must first give you his words of love, ma cherie. This is what making love is for! I always say, the French fall in love easier than the British, and this is true. French men are much more romantics and I never thought I will have a British husband before I met your brother, for this reason. Yet, he surprised me. I realize it is watching your parents that made him who he is. Your father keeps his love for your mother behind closed doors, but they share a very special, very beautiful relationship that all of their children learn from. If you cannot resist Harry, then try to cut your alone time short, or resist using too much of it to kiss. If you are kissing all the time, how can you speak to one another? You must use your time together wisely, and leave the passion for maybe a greeting or a goodbye. This is my advice. A woman who is bright keeps a man she wants wanting. This will have him thinking of you much more when you are gone from him and it will leave something to look forward to for you both. The pregnancy is well, by the way. Can you believe nearly five months from now there will be a doux bebe Weasley in our family? Affectueusement, ** Ron did not mind being famous. In fact, Harry knew that Ron knew that his fame was short-lived but, for the time being, he liked to be recognized and thought it was quite cool. His tall, ginger-haired friend was always jovial, signing autographs during his days at the WWW in Diagon Alley, and relishing the limelight, answering questions about his involvement with the battle at Hogwarts, and eating up the praises for his brave acts. Harry, on the other hand, was nearly always cowering in the corner these days and hated to be seen in public. He thought of this as they walked up the lawn and towards the heavy doors of Hogwarts. They had Apparated at four points to Hogsmeade, which was his usual method of travel these days whenever he came to see Ginny. During the war he had become so used to the feeling of Apparition, it was nearly second nature, but it left him tired and drained. It didn’t help that Madam Rosmerta had pulled them into the Three Broomsticks for a pint of mead. It felt good to be in the warm atmosphere of the Three Broomsticks and Harry hadn’t minded the feeling of being in Hogsmeade so much, especially since his conversation with Ginny the last time they were in the village. He had worried about being mobbed by the student population with this grand an entrance, yet, due to the time of day, it wasn’t as bad as he figured. It was only half past ten in the morning and most students were in their classes, there was hardly anyone in the corridors. Walking to the school was difficult in so many ways, but Harry tried not to think of it. He hadn’t been here since early October, and he hadn’t thought about it too much then. He usually had the same thoughts about how much he loved his school, and how much it meant to him, and then he would hear a bang or a pop, and startle. Everywhere he looked, he would remember what had happened and where, which body he had walked past, who had died on that floor. He hoped that, with time, it would get better for him, and he would see Hogwarts as he used to see it long ago. They were here for two reasons. One, Ron wanted to take a day off to surprise Hermione at school. Harry, who usually had training during the week, had cracked his shoulder pretty horribly during a training exercise and the infirmary insisted that he needed a day to rest. He was fine, really, and mostly healed up, but since he wasn’t working, he had decided to come with Ron. He also wanted the opportunity to invite Ginny to the Auror’s gathering. According to Ron’s calculations, Hermione and Ginny were in Potions class, and he thought they would go and surprise their old classmates and Slughorn. They made their way down to the old Potions dungeon. The tinkling of brass scales and cauldrons being stirred and the low chatter of students took Harry back. He felt strange, like he did not belong in the home he had grown up in. He felt hesitant, afraid he would look up and see Severus Snape glowering at him from the front of the room, or hear the sound of his name through venomous teeth. Then he remembered that Snape was no longer Snape. He was a hero who had also loved Harry’s mother and risked his life to try to protect Harry's parents and Harry. It was hard to think of Snape in this way, whenever he happened to think about it. Then he saw Ginny through the mist that the assigned Potion had created. For a moment, he simply stared. Her hair was up in a loose ponytail, and she was smiling and talking to someone he couldn’t see. Harry suddenly felt nervous. He hesitated. He hadn’t seen her for about a month and every time he did, the physical reaction to run and pull her against him and hold her close was stronger and stronger. It felt all the more difficult to face her, especially since he didn’t act on these impulses. The physical reaction to being in her presence was a strange mixture of feelings for which he had no understanding of their basis. Instead, he coolly approached her workspace. She was leaning over and then he noticed who she was helping. Jack, her Keeper, the one Ginny called ‘Quadpot Jack’ in her letters. Ginny said something and he laughed, and she made a cute face at him. He pointed to something in her book and she nodded casually. The Quodpot kid looked up at her, seemingly admiring her, and there was this look in his eyes that caused Harry’s insides to get as steamed up as the room. A strange feeling that he remembered from sixth-year surged through him and the monster in his chest that had been dormant for so long was awake, breathing fire and roaring in anger. He hadn’t felt that monster in over a year, hadn’t even remembered feeling this way inside until now, yet it was warranted! It seemed as if the Quodpot kid was more interested in flirting with his girlfriend than he was in stirring potions. “Hi.” He came up from behind Ginny and whispered in her ear. She gave a little shriek, and turned around. “Harry Potter.” The boy seemed as if he had been Stunned. He shrank back into his seat, as if being so close to Harry was somehow frightening to him. “Harry, what in Godric’s name are you doing here?” She threw her arms around him. “Harry!” another voice called, “Harry!”, and another. Soon they were surrounded with familiar faces, all of them wanting to hug him. Luna, Padma Patil, Lavender Brown and the booming voice of Slughorn welcomed him and Ron who was already cosy in the corner at Hermione’s workspace. After a few moments, the melee died down and everyone broke up and went back to their potion. Harry pulled Ginny off to the side for a moment. Slughorn, who was as round and jovial as ever, proceeded to look away and not bother them. There were advantages to being Harry Potter — sometimes. “Harry Potter! Ron Weasley! Men! I think this visit calls for a drink!” Slughorn called from across the room. Harry wasn’t keen to go visit with his old Potions Master, although Ginny urged him on. “Go. I have to finish my potion anyhow. Go.” He quickly kissed her on the cheek, ignoring the sighs from all the girls in the class, as Ginny gave him a small wave and he walked off. Not that he wanted to spread rumours in the school that he was Ginny’s boyfriend, but he had to show Jack and the rest of her class somehow that Ginny was well-taken. After a few minutes of chatter and a step into Slughorn’s office for a brandy, Harry and Ron excused themselves to their respective girlfriends. As soon as class was out, Harry hung back and helped Ginny clean up and pack up her things. She threw her school bag over her shoulder, and went to hand something to Professor Slughorn. Harry noticed that something dropped out of one of her notebooks and thinking nothing of it, instead of handing it to her, he pocketed it. He would give it to her later and tell her she dropped it. Then he instantly forgot he had it. Ginny was speaking to another student and he watched her. It was strange to be back in a Hogwarts classroom and see her there, still a student. Again, he felt older than he was and completely out of place. “You look out of it.” Ginny grinned. “You’re friendly with that boy?” he mentioned casually as they walked out of the dungeon, her schoolbag on his shoulder. “Your Keeper, Jack.” “He’s my friend, Harry.” “Friend?” He glanced at her. The monster in his chest had its head up, and was quite curious to hear what she would say. “We’re Potions partners?” She made a weird face. “Maybe, but who says that I care?” “I dunno. Maybe I care.” “Hermione.” “I’m not jealous.” He lowered his voice a few notes. “Why?” she countered. “I don’t know. Because you’re mine?” Underneath her robes she wore the Hogwarts-crested school uniform, the dark grey sweater, the deep crimson tie, wool skirt; starkly bright, her hair was shining against the drab-coloured clothing. He remembered how he used to stare at it all the time from across the common room, imagining what it would feel like if he were able to run his hands over it. He reached out to smooth her hair, and pulled his arms around her. Ginny was his, after all, even if she objected. The monster in his chest roared in satisfaction and contentment, licked its paws and promptly fell back to sleep. As it should. He really had nothing to worry for. “So it’s already November. Mum and Dad told me to tell you you’re invited to stay at Christmas. You are staying, right? They’re pestering me to ask you. Mum’s even threatened to go to your house and see what’s going on with you.” Harry looked down at Ginny. She had moved away from him and was now leaning up against the wall. He wished for a second that he had somewhere more comfortable to take her besides this dusty, dank broom cupboard, but this was the general frustration of his life now. Although, considering the general frustration of his life a year ago, he had to admit that not having a decent place to be alone with his girlfriend was a pretty good thing to be frustrated about. “Harry?” “More like you’re roaming about the city on your own, riding trains, drinking pints, and doing what-have-you, like Ron says you are,” she teased him. Harry wondered, as usual, if anything was safe between the four of them. “Stay? Where?” “Treacle fudge? I’ll make it for you.” “Great, well, that settles it. You’ll let Mum know, won’t you?” “No, it’s alright.” Harry couldn’t say no to Ginny. He took off his jacket and unbuttoned his shirt, exposing the large patch of bruised skin on his left shoulder. The hairs on the back of his neck stood straight up as Ginny lightly ran her fingers near the area, inspecting it in his dim wand light. Then, she leaned over and quickly kissed him, right below the injury. Her soft lips sweeping against his skin drove him absolutely wild. “There, that’s better,” she whispered sweetly, then rolled his sleeve down for him. “Nasty bruise. Maybe you should have stayed home to rest today instead of coming here.” “Wow, pretty parchment.” Ginny leaned against the wall opposite him again. “Is this an invitation? Were you invited to something?” The words spread out on the thin parchment and he watched Ginny read. He knew basically what it said. The Prestigious Society of British Aurors
Wednesday, 30 December 1998
“Harry!” She threw herself into his arms, and he caught her around the waist. “Really? That’s wonderful!” “Willyougowithme?” The words fell out of his mouth, quick and jumbled. He had planned to ask her more smoothly than he had. “To the party, I mean.” “Yes…” She looked up at once, her mouth slightly open. She had said yes rather quickly and he could tell she was covering up the eager answer she gave. “I mean, I’ll go, if it’s me you want to take. So take me. I mean, I’ll go. I’m going.” “Good. Well, that settles that.” “Yeah, her name starts with a V. Viola, Victoria?” “Yes, but you just said you don’t listen to music, so how would you know who she is?” “You said you didn’t know she sings about vampires!!” “You’re so nice, Harry.” Ginny made a face, “Too nice. Don’t write to her again. Tell her to keep her Vampire Veela paws off my boyfriend.” “They were never on me!” Harry laughed. He figured he shouldn’t tell her about the rest of the post he had received that month from admirers, including a few pictures which he had promptly glanced at, then tossed into the fireplace before Ron had seen them. Well, he had done that with most of the pictures. He hadn’t responded to any of the letters except for the ones from this Verona, figuring that she had been so nice, and he didn’t want to seem like a git for all the kind words she had said. “Enough. I’m happy I’m you’re first choice to go to the party with. Thanks for asking me to go. Congratulations, too.” She hugged him again. “Order of Merlin, First Class, is a huge deal. I’m really proud of you.” “Thanks.” Ginny casually slipped her hand into his, and then slid comfortably into his arms. “Just a quick hello.” He heard her say, for some odd reason. Harry felt himself relax as they kissed. This visit had been worth it, and he wondered why he wasn’t visiting Ginny here more. He couldn’t think of any place he would rather be besides here with Ginny. Yet, even though it was her lips encased in his, her hands pressed up against his chest, for some reason, Harry couldn’t shake the image of that boy looking at her, eyeing her up. It reminded him a lot of himself as he had once looked at her, admiring her from up close and afar. He couldn’t blame Jack. Besides being funny and clever and everything she was, Ginny was beautiful. At least she was to him, and obviously he wasn’t the only one who thought so. Back at school, he had run-ins with a few other boys who shouted to him, referring to his luck landing a girlfriend who was so unbelievably nice to look at. Needless to say, he had reacted poorly to these boys, and had wanted to curse pretty much every boy in his year who ever said anything about even so much as Ginny’s pinkie. Although, of course he had nothing to worry for, right? He and Ginny were together, and they didn’t see other people, but — Harry asked himself suddenly — did it necessarily mean that other people didn’t see her? All arrows pointed to no, in his mind. And it definitely did not mean that other blokes weren’t interested. And Harry admitted that, although his weekly letter went out, he had been focusing more on his training than on her this past month. But he also knew, as he said, that she was his. She was. No matter what kind of argument she put up, he knew that. And she wasn’t going anywhere, if he had anything to do about it. Not anywhere. “Harry?” she whispered, pulling back from his embrace. “I need—” She kissed him again, and another time, before she broke away from him. “I need to go. To the library. I have an exam tomorrow for Defence.” “Not this type of revising!” She laughed. “Besides, you didn’t tell me you were coming today, or I would have scheduled you in. Today’s no good. I can’t get off track.” She gathered her bag and notebook. Harry stood there, helpless. “You’re really going to leave me here?” Ginny gave him a look that meant that she very well was. “Don’t look so sad, Harry. We’ll see each other soon. Until next time.” Ginny stood on her toes and kissed his cheek with her soft lips. He turned his face quickly and caught her lips, then pulled her to him again. “Harry, please. Write to me.” She wriggled out of his embrace, and then, with one more backward glance, climbed out of the broom cupboard. Frustration coursed through him. He sat there for a few moments, stunned and wondering what on earth he had done to make her go. Finally, he was left wondering how he would find Ron and get out of the castle before the lunchtime rush. ** Ginny ran as far as she could, as fast as she could, through the castle, past students on their way to lunch, all the way up to her dormitory, where she slammed the door and threw herself onto the bed, where she read and re-read Fleur’s letter quickly. She was doing the right thing, wasn’t she? This was not easy. The fact that she could be down in the broom cupboard, engaging in some lovely snogs with Harry, made her angry. It made her wonder if what Fleur was suggesting was altogether true, and she had doubts that it would work simply because she was not in any way, shape or form, a Veela. ** The day had gone well. Harry had managed to make it out of Hogsmeade on his own, and, after a morning appearance at Hagrid’s cabin, he made it back to London, where he spent the day walking and sightseeing near Regents Park. Now, back at Grimmauld Place, and with his shoulder aching madly, Harry took his coat off. He noticed that, in one of the pockets, there was a single piece of crumpled parchment, and he instantly remembered that a paper had fallen out of Ginny’s notebook. Thinking it was probably Potions notes, he took it out, opened it and began reading it to himself. He had to sit down immediately on the kitchen bench. It was Potions notes, a few weeks old, dated late October, but in the margins was a note she had written to Hermione about a Defence against the Dark Arts exam. In the margin next to that was something written in her curly, slightly messy handwriting that he was so accustomed to reading that made him stop short. It was written as if she had become bored somewhere and needed something to do to kill time. There it was, staring back at him. The truth in plain black ink. Mrs. Ginny. Potter. Once, then twice. He looked at it more carefully. No, it was neater than her letters. It wasn’t written in haste. It was written quite carefully, as if she were practicing. Then he saw something else. Their initials in each corner. HP and GW. Together. With hearts. Harry crumpled the paper in his hand, then smoothed it out again, then crumpled it again, then smoothed it out. His heart raced, seeing her name there with his, and thinking about what it meant. Is that what she really was hoping for? He thought nervously of this morning and remembered how it had been a while since he had worried about love or the future. Not since their special time in Hogsmeade, the day he had been honest with her. Since then, he had shut it out of his mind. And another thing, if she loved him so damn much, why had she run out on him today when he had only come there to see her and surprise her? It had him a bit annoyed and frustrated at the time, and for some reason, he couldn’t stop thinking about where they had left off all damn day. ** A/N: I look forward to hearing from anyone who took the time to read this chapter. My wonderful beta, Arnel, told me it was the best one yet, and I'm hoping that a few of you agree.
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