The 23rd of June dawned beautifully; pinks, purples, oranges, and
gold coloured the sky as Harry sat watching the whole thing. His head
felt clearer than it had in the weeks since he'd awakened from the
coma. The day would be great for playing Quidditch. Harry was
contemplating when he might be able to soar through the air once again
and failed to hear the door open.
Mr. Weasley and Ron entered
the room and cautiously approached Harry, who stood at the long, narrow
window admiring the majesty of nature.
"All right there, Harry?" Ron questioned tentatively, setting a small bag on Harry's bed.
Harry heard the words but didn't speak. Ron and his father exchanged worried glances before Mr. Weasley spoke up,
"Harry, are you quite sure you're all right?"
Harry turned around slowly as a wide grin developed across his sunlit
face. He stuffed his hands into the pockets of his blue and white
hospital issue pyjama trousers.
"I'm fine, Mr. Weasley, Ron. Just fine."
Ron sighed with relief and patted Harry on the shoulder.
"Harry," Mr. Weasley began grimly, "I came early this morning to check
out the building in respect to your situation, and I'm rather glad I
did. The Daily Prophet knows you're being released today;
they're staked out downstairs in the Floo Lobby—waiting. They're hoping
you'll make a statement. I just thought you'd best prepare yourself."
"It's a right disaster down there, mate," Ron chimed in.
Harry's eyes darted back and forth between the two men nervously as he ruffled up the back of his hair.
"Now don't worry, Harry. We'll get out of here as fast as possible.
Regardless, they'll expect a statement. I could make a speech for you,
if you'd like."
Harry steeled his face to the truth and was
touched by the offer Mr. Weasley made. "No, I reckon I should say
something. Mind, it'll be brief, but I'll do it."
Mr. Weasley nodded. "Good man, Harry."
Harry smiled sheepishly. "There is one favour I'd like to ask of you, Mr. Weasley."
Arthur beamed. "Anything. You just name it, Harry."
Harry cast his eyes downward. Asking for help and favours was never his
strong suit. "Well, I don't think I'll fancy being out of St. Mungo's,
back in the real world, without a wand. Would it be possible for you to
arrange a visit to Ollivander's, maybe this afternoon? …And if
possible, alone? I mean, no other customers."
Arthur nodded in understanding. "I'll go send an Owl immediately. Molly, Ginny, and Hermione will be along shortly."
Mr. Weasley left the room, and Ron moved toward the bag he'd set on Harry's bed.
"I went out and got you something to wear home today," he stated, handing Harry a brown bag with twine handles.
"Oh yeah?" Harry asked. "I was never very fashion savvy before, so please don't tell me that fashion has changed too much."
Ron chuckled, waggling his eyebrows. "Don't worry, what I bought you will never go out of style."
Harry hesitantly took the bag from Ron and peered suspiciously inside. The first thing he noticed was a new pair of trainers.
"Awesome!" Harry noted, looking over the new pair of shoes. "I kinda forgot I'd be needing new shoes. Good call."
The next thing in the bag was a new pair of jeans, just a bit baggier
than the styles that had been popular a few years before. "Thanks," he
regarded, setting them next to the trainers before reaching into the
bag for the final time and pulling out a bright, gaudy orange T-shit.
Two black C's and a zooming cannon ball adorned it.
Harry laughed right out loud as he unfolded the Chudley Cannons T-shirt and held it up to his own chest.
Ron smiled. "I'll say it looks a sight better on you than it does me,"
he admitted with a glance upward at his own hair. "They went pretty far
this year, so don't worry, no one will think you're a nutter for
wearing it."
Harry let the shirt pool on his lap and
absent-mindedly traced the double letter C's. "I don't think you'll
ever know how lucky you are."
Harry had hoped that Ron would
not take offence at his statement—he hadn't meant any, but Harry was
still worried about looking up at his friend. After a few moments of
awkward silence passed, Harry finally found the courage to look into
Ron's eyes.
"I'm beginning to understand," Ron declared,
seating himself next to Harry. "I've got my best mate back again, I'm
married to my best girl, and I have two kids on the way. I hadn't ever
dreamed of hoping for this much."
Harry nodded. "I envy you."
Ron's mouth dropped open at the shock of the statement. He was at a
total loss for words. All their years at Hogwarts it was he, Ron, who
had envied Harry.
"I mean it," Harry reiterated, looking out
the window. "You've got the only thing I never had and could never buy.
You're a lucky man, Ron.
"And I don't mean for you to feel
guilty about that, because you deserve happiness. Thanks for everything
you've always done for me. I hope to be half as lucky as you are."
For the first time since Harry had risen from the coma, Ron felt guilty
for the things he knew. He had never before kept anything important
from Harry, and now he had an awful secret. His sister, Harry's
girlfriend, had a fiancée, and everyone but Harry knew it. When Harry
found out, he'd be furious. But as guilty as Ron felt, he didn't think
it was his place to tell Harry about Dean and Ginny, and he wasn't
brave enough to do it anyway. Ron hadn't ever expected to meet anyone
to rival Ginny's temper—but then he'd met Harry.
"You'll be my best man, finally, at the Renewing of Vows, won't you?"
Harry eventually turned to face his friend, a smile emblazoned across his face.
"I'd be honoured."
"Then that's all the thanks I need," Ron finished, wondering what he
had ever done to deserve Harry's thanks in the first place.
Harry could feel the tension mounting with the arrival of Hermione and
Mrs. Weasley. He kept anticipating Ginny's arrival. Each time the door
opened and a Healer or Nurse appeared, Harry's eyes shone with
disappointment and his mood sunk a little further. Why isn't she here?
He had gone over some things in his head that he'd say to the reporters
when he faced them. Mr. Weasley had long returned from Owling
Ollivander's Shop with an invite to visit at his earliest convenience.
For that, Harry was glad.
But he missed Ginny's presence at a
time when he felt he needed her most. He lacked the strength to break
down and ask Mrs. Weasley about her location for fear that he would
become too emotional before the Press Conference. The last thing he
needed to do was bawl his eyes out on camera somewhere. So, he
swallowed deeply and urged himself to be strong for Ginny—wherever she
was.
Harry stood at a podium on a makeshift platform in the
lobby of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies, surrounded by
reporters and photographers. His eyes darted around nervously as he
looked for Ginny. He needed to see her smile, wanted to feel her
support. She was nowhere to be seen. His heart thundered in his ears.
Loud…Erratic…Fast…
Harry could see Ron and Hermione and Mr.
and Mrs. Weasley standing dutifully by his side. He felt Mrs. Weasley
reach over and grab his hand, lending him her support. He initially
flinched at her touch, but chose not to let go or to divert his eyes
from the crowd.
The sound in the reception area was deafening.
The noise reverberated off the walls creating a cacophony that gave
Harry an instant headache. All the chairs had been moved out, and the
regular receptionists were looking at Harry as though they might like
to hex him for disturbing the normalcy of their day. All of the
reporters rapidly fired questions at Harry, hollering his name so their
photographer could snap a good picture. Flashbulbs popped loudly, and,
all the while, Harry's heart thumped anxiously.
Molly
Weasley's heart went out to the boy, no, young man at her side. She
knew he was searching the crowd for Ginny. She knew that it was her
daughter's hand that Harry longed to be holding. Ginny had been the
only person who really gave Harry comfort and resolve after he had
awakened from the coma. The entire family knew why Ginny wasn't there.
There had been an awful argument earlier that morning.
Remus, the Weasley's, and the surviving members of the Order had all
gathered at the Burrow that morning to discuss Harry's situation. It
was obvious to everyone but Ginny why she could not accompany Harry
home from the hospital. The Daily Prophet had run the
announcement of Dean and Ginny's engagement. Remus blatantly pointed
out that Ginny could hardly stand at Harry's side, grasping his hand
and pretending as if she had been devoted only to him. No, the Prophet
would have bombarded them with questions if they thought Ginny were any
more or less important than any of the other Weasley's to Harry.
Ginny had, of course, pitched a fit, knowing that Harry had expected
her there and would suffer because of it. So, in the end, the Order had
allowed her to meet Harry at Ollivander's.
Mr.
Weasley watched as Harry stood frozen in place, apprehensive and
panicky. Arthur stepped forward with a warm smile and put an arm around
Harry.
"Mr. Potter has only a brief statement today. No
questions please. Harry…" Mr. Weasley nudged Harry forward as Mrs.
Weasley squeezed his hand supportively. "It's all right, dear," she
whispered softly.
Harry cleared his throat and took a shuffled
step toward the crowd. "Um," Harry began, clearing his throat again and
shifting his eyes downward. "Er, I guess I'd just like to say that I
feel fine, and I'm glad to be going home now. All I've ever wanted was
to be normal, not a hero, just Harry Potter. I hope you can respect
that and give me some privacy."
A Wizard reporter interrupted, his quill poised and ready to write. "Have you made any plans for the future, Harry?"
Harry was caught off guard and was a bit discombobulated by the
interruption. "Er, I'm not really taking questions, but, um, sort of, I
guess. I'm going to take some time deciding on a career. I hope by fall
or so to have made a decision. For the summer I plan to just relax and
finish recuperating. And I, um, guess that's it."
Just as
Harry was preparing to step away from the crowd, he saw something
familiar. A flash of a poison green coloured quill caught Harry's eye.
It was clasped in the hand of Rita Skeeter.
"Harry!" she
called in an irritating voice, as she waved her hand at him. "Do you
see any particular witch in that future with you, Harry?" Rita batted
her eyes behind her rhinestone jewelled cat-eye frames and looked
expectantly up at him.
Molly, Arthur, Ron, and Hermione froze
on the spot, their smiles still delayed on their faces. Their eyes
clouded with worry and concern. If Harry made one mention of Ginny, it
would only take seconds for the reporters to counter with the truth.
They all held their breath.
Harry smiled. He wasn't about to
take the bait this time. In no way would he betray Ginny to the press
for them to hound her day and night. He pretended to ponder the thought
for a moment and suddenly gained inspiration.
"Just you, Rita," he answered sarcastically. "I'm sure you'll persecute me 'til the day I die."
Harry proceeded to follow the Weasley's off the stage, while the press
continued to holler out questions. A large fireplace was sectioned off
from the rest of the Reception Area. Mrs. Weasley leaned in close to
Harry.
"Off you go to Ollivander's, dear. Ginny is waiting for
you there. The rest of us will go home and prepare for your, um,
arrival."
Harry beamed. "What's to prepare for, Mrs. Weasley? Are you planning a— "
Molly was quick to cut him off, "Never you mind, dear. Just nip over to Ollivander's."
Harry looked into the large fireplace and stepped inside. His shoes
crunched on the old cinders. It smelled sooty and stale inside the
hearth, but it was familiar and almost welcome. Harry reached out and
took a small handful of gritty, grey powder and took a deep breath.
Gosh, it's been a long time, Harry contemplated, throwing the ashes at his feet, watching the Floo roar to life. "Ollivander's!"
Ginny paced back and forth across the creaky wooden floor, occasionally
glancing outside at Remus Lupin, who as a member of the Order of the
Phoenix, stood outside to give any assistance, if necessary.
Ginny sighed audibly, glancing over at the face behind the counter.
"Sorry," she whinged.
A hand innocently waved her off.
Ginny nervously tapped her foot and drummed her fingers on the sides of
her thighs. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the fireplace
in Ollivander's ignited.
Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, catching Ginny about the waist to keep himself from falling over.
"Oof," Harry exhaled as he crashed into the redhead.
Ginny squealed with surprise, first, then humour as she and Harry
laughed. She hoisted him up to eye level and wrapped her arms around
him. Ginny caught Remus peering into the windows, no doubt attracted by
all the noise they had made. He wore a distinct sneer. She pointedly
ignored him and kissed Harry's cheek.
"How'd it go?"
He shrugged. "Fine, I guess. I was really nervous and then Rita Skeeter
started asking questions. I- I was looking for you." His eyes shifted
down and then slowly back up while he waited for her excuse.
Ginny tilted her head to the side and offered him a smile. Guilt was
swarming her heart. Her absence today had more to do with her
reputation and prosperity than Harry's.
"I'm sorry, love. I'm
here under orders of the Order." She indicated Remus standing outside
with an incline of her head, "I'm not alone, either."
Harry grinned and waved at the werewolf standing outside. Remus only raised his eyebrows in greeting and smirked.
"He seems a bit grouchy today," Harry speculated.
Ginny knew damn well why he was 'grouchy.' The harsh words and hurt
feelings during fight at The Burrow that morning hadn't faded, yet.
"Eh, must be his 'time of the month," Ginny snickered.
Movement caught Harry's eye, and he turned to see a younger woman
sitting behind the counter. She had waist length brown hair that was
sleek and shiny, and bright blue, almond shaped eyes that seemed vague
but twinkled like two sapphires. The woman looked up when she heard the
shuffle of feet coming toward her.
Harry leaned toward Ginny and his whisper performed a duet with the creaky floor, "Where's Mr. Ollivander."
A new voice broke the hushed silence.
"He was my Grandfather. I'm Olivia, and I run the shop now." The woman
looked up from the countertop, where a stack of papers had previously
held her attention.
Her voice was soft and breathy, and Harry couldn't help but notice that her lips were painted a lush shade of garnet.
Harry stepped up to the counter and extended a hand.
"Olivia Ollivander, is it, then?"
She looked pleased, swishing her long, chestnut brown locks over her
shoulder. "The one and only. Or at least I think so." Olivia took
Harry's hand and gave it a lingering squeeze. "It's nice to meet you,
Harry Potter."
Harry returned her smile. He already liked her;
she hadn't glanced up at the scar that plagued his forehead. Up close
he could see that she was probably a few years older than he was, but
her obvious maturity and exotic beauty abounded.
"I didn't
know Mr. Ollivander didn't run the shop anymore." Harry was sure it
sounded aloof or ignorant, but Olivia didn't seem to think so.
"Damn near 200 years old," she bragged. "Still thought he was half his
age." Olivia seemed to get a bit sentimental, which was a bit of a
surprise to Harry. "He only died two years ago. He even fought in the
Second War."
Harry tried to give her what he thought was an encouraging smile. "I liked him. I'm sorry for your loss."
He was startled by an impatient sigh behind him.
Ginny was tight lipped, and her arms were folded stiffly across her chest. For a moment Harry had forgotten she was there.
"Harry, I don't mean to intrude— " Her voice had been tainted with
sharpness and jealousy. To Harry, it had brought back a memory from
Hogwarts, when Ginny had hexed poor Susan Bones for blatantly flirting
with Harry right in front of her, even though she had known Ginny and
Harry were dating.
Ginny had always watched out for Harry,
even when he didn't know it she had watched over him. Her eyes were
squinting menacingly at the other woman in the room.
"- But everyone is waiting for us at home."
Harry blushed and glanced bashfully at Olivia. "Oh, right."
"OK, then," Olivia began, scrutinizing Harry with a faint smile on her
red lips. She tilted her head to the left first, then to the right.
Moving around the front of the counter she retrieved a measuring tape
from the pocket of her indigo blue robes. With a snap of her fingers
the tape sprung to life, taking odd measurements. She paused in her
analysis of Harry to let a smirk slide across her lips. Harry
instinctively returned her smile and took a step back to let her pass
when the measurements ceased.
They were rather close, and Harry noticed that she smelled lovely.
It was only then that Harry got an opportunity to look around the
store. Even though the store was no longer run by Mr. Ollivander, it
looked very much the same as it had when he'd first entered it at the
age of eleven. Long, narrow boxes were stacked haphazardly on the
shelves with seemingly no rhyme or reason.
The room smelled of
cedar, pine, and cherry. Dust blanketed the narrow boxes and Olivia
tapped her fingers along each box until she found the one she was
searching for.
"Try this," Olivia suggested, pulling a box from the shelf and opening it.
Harry reached out and grasped the wand between his fingers. It was
considerably wider and shorter than his old one. He flicked his wrist
cautiously and watched a faint coil of smoke erupt from the wand.
"Nope," Olivia replied, putting it back on the shelf.
She skirted around Harry and Ginny again and disappeared down another
aisle. Harry looked at Ginny and forced a smile. She did not return it;
instead, she kept her eyes on Olivia.
Ms. Ollivander stuck her head around the corner of the tall shelf. "Hold up your hand."
Confused, Harry did as she instructed and lifted his right hand, palm out, and spread his fingers.
Olivia raised her eyebrows and smiled. "Hmm, nice, large hands."
Harry blushed, watching Olivia disappear again. Behind him Ginny huffed her disapproval.
It was only a few moments before Olivia returned with another box. "Give this one a try," she proposed confidently.
Harry flicked his wrist again and saw a spectacular burst of sparks in brilliant red and gold.
"Ha! That's it!" Olivia exulted.
"Wow. You're great," Harry returned, looking over the new wand in his
hands. It was strange how they could all look so different.
Olivia beamed. "I did nothing but find the right box. The wand, your
wand, chose you, Harry. It's Sequoia, 12 inches, phoenix feather— "
"So was my last one," Harry interrupted her. "Phoenix feather, I mean. Is that typical? The same core, you know?"
Olivia pursed her lips. "I don't think anything is typical when it comes to you, Mr. Potter."
She caught a nasty look from Ginny but continued anyway.
"Some people seem to just have connections. Entire families can have
the same core material or the same wood. You must have a connection
with phoenix."
Harry grinned. His last wand held a feather from Fawkes, Dumbledore's pet. He wondered where this feather had come from.
"Miss, er, I'm sorry, I've forgotten your name," Olivia said, moving through the narrow shop and behind the counter again.
"Weasley. Ginny." Her voice punctuated the room like a sharp dagger.
Olivia Ollivander snapped her fingers. "Yes! That's it. Miss Weasley here already paid for your wand. Fiancée?"
Ginny froze. What would Harry say? What would Olivia Ollivander think?
Harry coloured a warm shade of pink. "Um, no."
"Hmm," Olivia replied with a note of interest in an almost musical voice.
Harry observed Ginny's expression. Her face was blotchy and red, her
brown eyes were squinted and took on a darker hue, and her mouth was
half open in disgust.
"C'mon, Harry, you've got guests at
home," Ginny snapped, grabbing the sleeve of his Chudley Cannons
T-shirt, pulling him away from Olivia Ollivander's gaze and toward the
door.
"It was a distinct pleasure meeting you, Harry Potter,"
Olivia declared, with a hint of suggestion in her voice as she leaned
back against the counter. "If you ever need anything, you know where I
am. Good luck with your new wand."
Harry was sure he heard
Ginny whisper something that sounded like 'hussy' as the bells chimed
and she dragged him backwards out the door.
"Er, thanks, Olivia."
She smiled and waved with a wiggle of her fingers. She mouthed the word
'bye' as Ginny succeeded in hauling Harry from the shop.
Remus, Harry, and Ginny made the short walk back toward The Leaky
Cauldron, where Remus said they would Floo back to the Burrow.
Ginny consciously walked ahead of the two men, muttering to herself about 'that woman'.
Harry was disappointed that Ginny walked so far ahead of them. He
wanted nothing more than to hold her hand as he enjoyed his first few
moments of real, true freedom in five years. He didn't even mind all
the stares, gasps, and crowding. He was breathing fresh air, feeling
the sun warm his fair skin, and just generally enjoying being alive as
he half listened to Remus ramble on about the Philosophy about wands
choosing their owners.
He wondered why Ginny was so far ahead.
The Leaky Cauldron was rather quiet at that time in the late afternoon.
Old Tom still stood behind the bar and called out a cheery hello with a
wave to Remus, Ginny, and Harry.
Harry gestured for Remus to
Floo first and watched him take a handful of Floo Powder and throw it
down at his feet. He was gone in a flash of green light. It was the
moment Harry had waited for since leaving St. Mungo's. He put his hand
on Ginny's waist and pulled her, crashing, toward his body. His lips
met hers in a heated fury and parted almost instantly, enticing each
other's tongues in an illicit rhythm.
Harry savoured the
feeling of her figure pressed against his slight frame; the curviness
of her hips under his hands, her soft breasts in contact with his
chest. Truly, she felt amazing in his arms.
The sensation of
Ginny snaking one of her hands through Harry's hair and the other one
tight across his back, keeping him close, made Harry think of their
past. All the wonderful memories they'd already shared. All the
memories he wanted to make in the future.
When Ginny thought
she might pass out from breathlessness, she broke the kiss and rested
her forehead against Harry's, nuzzling his nose with hers while letting
her breath out in short puffs.
Ginny quickly let her eyes roam the pub. Thankfully, what few patrons there were paid her and Harry no attention.
"Remus will worry," she whispered, softly kissing his top lip.
"I could not care less," came Harry's reply, while he closed his eyes
and marvelled in the extra-ordinary, phenomenal, sensational, and
exhilarating feelings Ginny stirred within him.
Ginny giggled a little. "I guess some things never change. Even when we were teenagers, you didn't care if we got caught."
Harry smiled and playfully nipped at her lips, causing a lovely little whimper to escape her.
"That's what invisibility cloaks are for; Sirius told me so himself."
Ginny sighed reluctantly, removing herself from Harry's embrace. "We'd
better go or else Mum will be having kittens. She'll show up here; you
know she will." She pointed to the fireplace with one hand and rested
the other hand on her hip. "C'mon, in you go."
Harry had not anticipated all of the hubbub at the Burrow when he
arrived. All the Weasley children and their significant others were
present, along with several Order members and Professor McGonagall.
It astonished Harry that so many people had missed his presence over
the last few years. The group celebrated outside, in the garden at the
Burrow. Little glowing fairies zipped around the back yard, providing a
soft blossom of light. Trellises were detailed with a variety of Muggle
and Magical flowers, and there was a long banquet table laden with
food. Mrs. Weasley had gone above and beyond in creating what he had
expected his first home cooked meal in five years to taste like.
It was the first time Harry had the opportunity to meet Peyton Weasley,
Penny and Percy's son. Peyton was about nine months old, had curly red
hair, and was already smart as a whip.
Kingsley and Regina
Shacklebolt, Remus, Tonks, Headmistress McGonagall, Bill, Fleur,
Charlie, his girlfriend Ekaterina, a fellow dragon wrangler and a
native Romanian, the twins, Angelina, and Katie were all present. Of
course Ron and Hermione were there. Ron frequented the food table for
himself and for his pregnant wife, who looked like she was about to pop.
Ginny sat on the low garden wall, watching Harry intently, just as she
always had. She knew he was probably tired, but he needed to see that
he was loved and cared for. He would need these people when she
inevitably told him the mind-blowing news about her and Dean, whom she
had not invited to the party.
Harry sat with Percy and Bill,
holding baby Peyton for his first time. Peyton babbled, cooed, and
giggled at Harry, who, in turn, smiled back. The baby seemed to be
quite eager to grab at Harry's glasses and his hair.
Ginny's
heart clenched painfully. She'd always thought, hoped, and dreamt that
she'd have children with untidy black or red hair and gorgeous green
eyes just like their father's. But that was not to be.
Bill
looked up from his conversation and locked eyes with his only sister.
Ginny was alone, sitting at the edge of the garden, where twilight was
creeping in. She had dark circles under her eyes and looked like she'd
lost quite a bit of weight over the last few weeks. Bill set down the
Butterbeer he was holding, stuffed his hands in his pockets and strode
over to Ginny.
"Hey, Gin-Gin."
She smiled with a sigh and rolled her eyes, breaking her gaze away from Harry.
"Who would have thought he'd be so good with kids, eh?"
Ginny's eyes darted from Bill back to Harry, who was holding Peyton under the arms, letting him jump up and down on his lap.
"I did," her voice was wistful and removed.
Bill exhaled loudly, clasped his hands together, and sat down next to his sister.
"Gin, it's time to tell Harry."
Ginny's body stiffened as she leered over at Bill. Her jaw was clenched and she began to speak to him through gritted teeth.
"I love you, Bill, but this isn't your business. Stay out of my affairs."
"And by affairs, do you mean the happenings in your life and your
concerns, or do you mean the fact that you're carrying on… having
liaisons with two different men?"
His words bit hard, and Ginny's mouth dropped open in shock.
Tears stung her brown eyes. "How could you?" she asked, offended.
"Ginny, he deserves to know!" Bill snapped, jerking his thumb over at
the party, where Harry sat laughing with Tonks, unaware of the their
quarrel. "It's only fair to let him move on with his life, while you
move on with yours. Do you think Dean wouldn't mind if you just shag
Harry once and a while? You can't have your cake and eat it too, Ginny."
She was crying fully as she rose from the garden wall and looked down
at Bill. Her hands were on her hips, and she was hovering, just like
Molly did. Fireworks exploded overhead, courtesy of Fred and George,
and only Bill heard Ginny raging, "You don't know what it's like. No
one does. To love someone so much, knowing you have the information
that will keep him from you, forever. To be stuck in the middle. Huh?
Do you know, Bill? Do you?"
Ginny waited for a moment for him to be stupid enough to answer, but, of course, he didn't.
"No, I didn't think so," Ginny retorted, pushing a finger into the
middle of her brother's chest. "Keep out of it. I won't have anyone
telling Harry the truth but me."
She turned her back on him and stomped off into the apple orchard behind the garden.
Ginny returned long after dark, long after Harry's guests had gone
home. The Burrow was dark except for a luminosity coming from the room
that used to Ron's. She entered the house and quietly crept up the back
stairs, careful to avoid the squeaky stair about halfway up.
Ginny passed her own room with a twinge of reminiscence. Too many
memories of Harry haunted that room. She continued up the stairs and
peeked in through the door of her brother's old room.
She
found Harry sleeping, propped up against the headboard. Mrs. Weasley
had taken special care to make Ron's old room comfortable. She had
framed his and Sirius's Order of Merlin certificates, and several
photos of Harry with his friends and of his mum and dad. Harry's old
school trunk sat at the foot of the bed, open. Everything lay in the
trunk, just as he had left it, when he had packed to leave Hogwarts for
his final time. His Firebolt, from Sirius, was magically suspended in
the air in one corner of the room. In another corner was an old, white
owl sitting serenely on her perch. She already looked calmer since
Harry had arrived. Other than Ginny, Hedwig had probably missed Harry
the most. Her demeanour had changed drastically over the last five
years, but Ginny could see in the wise bird's amber eyes that things
were returning to normal.
Harry still had on the orange
Chudley Cannon's T-shirt and his jeans, but his trainers and socks sat
in a neat pile at the side of the bed. Ginny couldn't help but smile as
she looked down at him. His glasses lay carelessly discarded on his
chest. He looked so peaceful; ironically, there were things she could
tell him that could crush his spirit or break his heart.
Ginny
stepped cautiously across the room and removed Harry's glasses from his
chest. She folded them and set them on the small table next to Harry's
bed. She smiled again and turned to leave, but Harry suddenly caught
her hand.
"Wait," he whispered, pulling her back.
"I thought you were sleeping," Ginny responded, sitting on the edge of Harry's bed, interlacing her fingers between Harry's.
"I was. I was dreaming of this red-haired angel I know," he confessed.
Ginny forced a smile. "Are you sure she isn't the devil in disguise?"
He chose not to contradict her and changed the subject, "Why did you
leave the party?" The question seemed sudden and hasty, but he pulled
her down to lie next to him.
Ginny considered how angry she
had been with Bill, storming off into the trees, and how, upon finding
a secluded enough place, she cried. Ginny had cried until no more tears
would come. She contemplated just Apparating home to her flat from
there but felt the need to check on Harry.
"I got into an argument with Bill."
"About what?"
"Brother-Sister stuff."
Ginny settled deeper into Harry's arms and closed her eyes. "I can't stay," she whispered. "I've got to work in the morning."
He said nothing but leaned over her body and pressed a kiss to her
lips. The kiss caught Ginny off guard, but she kissed him back
earnestly.
"Stay here with me," he whispered against her skin, moving his lips down her neck.
Ginny considered it seriously for only a moment. It was difficult
thinking with Harry grazing his teeth over he skin, causing her to
shiver. "I, er, I can't. My uniform is at home," she answered quickly.
"Besides, you aren't well, yet."
She casually pulled her neck
out of his reach as she tried to pull together her thoughts. She
scrambled up from the bed, which was covered in the quilt she had made
for him.
Harry laughed softly, sitting up on the edge of the
bed and reaching out to where she stood before him. "I feel fine Gin,
don't worry. I want to show you how much I love you, and I feel better
the closer you are to me."
He pulled her down so she was
straddling his lap, and put his arms around her, in effect, locking her
in place. She crossed her arms over her chest and refused to meet his
eyes.
"Ginny, what is it?"
"Harry, I…" Ginny was
trying so hard not to tremble; Harry was holding her in his arms in
such a comforting way. His fingers were splayed across her back, and
his eyes were gazing at her intently. He reached up and gently brushed
a lock of copper-red hair away from her face and smiled.
"Shh," he whispered faintly as he removed his hands from her back and
carefully held her face, placing a slow, soothing, easy kiss on her
lips.
It was so deliberate and unbelievably warm and tender
that Ginny wanted to melt right into it. She'd actually been
considering telling him the truth right then and there, but any real
desire to do so was gone now. In her heart, Ginny knew that if she
stayed there a single minute longer, she would give herself over to
Harry.
No, no, no! her mind screamed at her. Get up! Move!
"Harry, I have to go," she said abruptly, breaking their kiss, pushing
against his shoulders, and rising off his lap. She retrieved her wand
from her back pocket and prepared to Apparate home.
"Ginny, please. We don't have to do anything. Don't go. Please?"
Tears started welling up in her eyes as she gritted her teeth, trying to hold them back.
Harry rose from the bed and made to reach for Ginny again. "Gin, love,
please. What did you want to tell me? You can tell me anything."
The first of many tears that night cascaded down her face as she placed
her hands in the middle of his chest, stopping him from nearing her.