The floor creaked. It was a horrible creak, one he knew he would have to fix — if not the old-fashioned way, which would be tearing the floor up and somehow repairing it. They could use magic but he wasn’t sure that, between him and Ron, the talent was there for charms to last very long.
The house was obviously dilapidated. Until last week, Harry hadn’t been inside of twelve Grimmauld Place for an entire year, when he, Ron and Hermione had been using it as the hideout while they prepared to break into the Ministry to retrieve the locket. That felt like an awfully long time ago, even if it was only one year.
He ran his hand through his hair and looked around. Judging by his and Ron’s initial assessment, the creak was among many projects he would have to tackle to make this place livable.
Ginny was coming over today which was somewhat unplanned. It was Hermione’s birthday and, since it was a Saturday, she had planned to come see him and Ron. It was only a few days ago that Harry had learned Hermione was bringing Ginny along. She had obtained permission for Ginny to leave Hogwarts by explaining to Headmistress McGonagall how he and Ron needed all the help they could get cleaning up Grimmauld Place to make it livable for Harry and Ron. His former professor did have a soft spot for him, after all. Harry wasn’t objecting to the visit. He knew it would do him good to see his girlfriend. He was just nervous, as he had not been expecting this visit. He also wasn’t sure what to make of seeing her for the first time since their awkward goodbye at King’s Cross. Of course, while she was explaining the reason that Ginny needed to be present on this visit to his old professor, Hermione had probably left out the fact that all four of them would be completely unsupervised. Worked out for Ron. Worked out for him. 'Course, it was a bit nerve-wracking, again. He tugged at the back of his hair.
Hermione’s fib was a partial truth. He and Ron were supposed to begin living here together starting last week, and they were way behind schedule. They were only planning to sleep there tonight for the first time! Besides, the house did need massive amounts of cleaning up and that was how he planned to look at it. So they would clean. It was something to do, Harry figured. He wasn’t just going to go in and snog Ginny right away. He at least had to have some sort of activity they could do together. Besides, Ron insisted that girls like to show the men they’re trying to impress that they’re good at cleaning. Whether Ginny would be keen to clean with him, or whether this was true or not, he had yet to discover.
He thought of Aunt Petunia. Many days during his childhood, instead of going to the play park after school like Dudley, he was made to clean. At night, Vernon would waltz in and sniff around and compliment her with his grunts, and Petunia would nearly sparkle with delight. Had she been trying to impress him? Strange behavior, he thought.
Harry nearly jumped as the Floo burst out in a bright green flash and two coughing girls slightly covered in ash made their way out of the dusty fireplace.
“Hey, Harry.” Hermione bounded towards him and kissed him on the cheek.
“Happy birthday.” Harry hugged his best friend and grinned, then helped dust off her shoulders. “Bought you a present. Here, open it.”
He handed her the package which he had wrapped, not nearly as badly as he thought he would. “Thanks, Harry.” She peeled back the paper, revealing the book he had bought her on the history of wizarding Australia, and a deluxe Sugar Quill.
“You’re welcome. Ginny told me that you like to read.” He winked at her.
Ginny let out a small laugh. He looked at her for the first time. Then they just sort of stared at one another.
Hermione cleared her throat. “Where’s Ron?”
”In the kitchen, clearing up breakfast.”
”Thanks. I’ll go see if he needs help.” Hermione crossed in front of him, making her way to the next floor. Harry swore she glanced back at Ginny for a moment and that the two girls shared a strange glance, although it was so quick he may not have seen correctly.
Ginny’s took off her jacket, revealing torn jeans and a Weird Sisters concert t-shirt he recognized, a faded one; he thought it had been her brother Charlie’s.
“Hi,” she said in a small voice.
Harry took her in for a few moments with a slight grin. He tried to not let his eyes fall too close to the feminine curves that the t- shirt emphasized. Instead, he focused on her small, slender shoulders that curved upward and led to the graceful lines of her neck. The mane of golden red waves distracted him before he became too involved in other things.
He loved her hair. It was like fire, with every color except the blue. She nervously twirled her finger around the ends of one of the soft curls. He might have sat there looking at her for an hour, for all he knew. He looked into her small face. Her chocolate brown eyes sparkled with a hint of that same blazing look; gold, and curiosity, and other things he couldn’t read. She smiled one of those sly grins that meant he was embarrassing her with his scrutiny.
“Can you stop looking at me, please? Do I have breakfast on my face?”
“Nope,” he managed to stammer, and forced down a huge swallow. “Sorry, I’m a bit… knackered.”
They sat in silence for another few moments.
“You look great,” Harry offered.
“Thanks,” Ginny threw him a weird look. “Although you don’t have to lie to me. I didn’t want to dress up too much. I’m warning you now, if I don’t come back through McGonagall’s office dirty and reeking of Doxy repellent, she’ll think something’s up, so you better have something for me to do.”
He was glad he did. “Fine, I’ll try to get you as dingy looking as possible, but I wasn’t kidding that you look good. I like that shirt.”
“It’s something I usually sleep in, but thanks.”
For some reason, she seemed suddenly cool. Distant, perhaps? He wondered what that was about. It was strange as well that she wasn’t moving in on him. At her house, if he had even so much as walked into a room she was in, Ginny was right next to him almost immediately, holding his hand. Now, the first time he'd seen her in weeks, she wasn’t doing that. Did she want him to move in on her? He wasn't about to do that unless she made it clear that she wanted him to; for some reason, he wasn't getting that feeling.
“Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
“No, we had breakfast.”
Just then, Ron and Hermione stepped into the front room.
“Hey, you guys, Hermione and I are going to my room, to… err… organize,” Ron said between mouthfuls of what looked like the remains of a scone. “We’ll see you around lunch… better behave, you two. And keep your door open, Harry.”
This was easy because Ron had taken the bedroom directly across from his on the top landing. They watched Ron and Hermione disappear upstairs.
“Want to see my room?”
”Sure.”
They climbed the narrow staircases to the top landing where his new room — which had been Sirius’s old bedroom — was located. The door creaked as he pushed it open, revealing the same room as he had first seen last summer, where he had found his mum's letter to Sirius. Now, the velvet curtains and the chandelier were gone. He had removed them a few days previously. The wardrobe remained, as did the bed. He had moved a bookshelf in as well. Otherwise, his belongings were set in the middle of the room in front of the bed.
Whereas Ron had spent the last three weeks boxing up everything he owned at The Burrow — and had plenty more to dig through — Harry had spent the rest of the summer swimming by himself or taking long walks, thinking of things he had to do, but not really doing much about it. He had not had to pack like Ron. It had taken him all of half a day to get his things together. He didn’t have much, really.
He looked over at Ginny, who stood there with her nose wrinkled up.
”I take it you’re not impressed with my place.”
“No, not really. I'm not really a fan of this place in general. It’s sort of… dark and dusty. I’ll think I’ll need to find a way to make it more cheerful.”
The room was extremely dusty and there were odds and ends that needed to be taken out. The wardrobe, for instance, was packed with things that had belonged to Sirius. That was his planned morning activity, which he explained to Ginny. Harry settled on starting to pack boxes with old books and treasures that had belonged to his godfather.
“So, how have the first few weeks back been?” He struck up conversation after a few moments of silence.
He looked up and noticed that Ginny, who had offered to dust, was standing on the top of the wardrobe.
“How did you get up there?” He stood. “Be careful.”
“Shhh.” She shushed him. What was she doing up there?
“Tergeo!”
Windows. Ah. He went back to what he was doing for a moment, thinking heavily of what Ron had said about girls and cleaning. He was startled when he heard her voice again.
“You get my letters. Nothing’s new. Just trying to keep up with homework and stay out of trouble.”
”Well, are you?”
”What?”
”Staying out of trouble.” He threw a stack of books into a box and watched a black spider scuttle up the door. He threw a book at it. “Careful, there’s another one. If you know a spider-getting-rid-of charm, that would be really helpful, especially for your brother Ron. He’s terrified of them.”
“Hermione’s sorting Ron out. Besides, I’m not an exerminator, Harry.”
”You mean an exterminator.”
She rolled her eyes. “Whatever. To answer your question about staying out of trouble, I’m not. I was already in detention last week. Ask me why.”
”Why?”
”Why?!?” She looked down, her eyes narrowed like her mum’s when she was angry. Harry felt nervous for a moment. She made a frustrated noise and muttered under her breath.
“Because… hold on,” She went back to the windows, repeating the spell momentarily. “I was in detention because I was writing you letters in class and I was caught. Detention with Flitwick was horrible and boring! I had to do lines a whole Saturday morning! Love letters and NEWT-level Charms notes are not one and the same —over one hundred times.” By this time, Harry was laughing. “And I kept trying to tell him that it wasn’t a love letter and that we’re just friends and he wouldn’t believe me, the git! SO, Harry, I’m trying to keep out of trouble, but you’re ruining it for me, as always.”
He laughed a bit more. “Sure, I read that.”
She paused. “You read them?”
“Your letters? 'Course I did. I would have written back as well, it’s just…well, I’ve had a lot to do lately, getting together all of my things for the move. And I’ve been spending some time in the owl order catalogs for supplies. You know, for the classes I’ll be starting for the academy. I’ve been reading a lot too, their materials and such…”
“I know you’re busy,” she said quickly. “It’s just… well, the silver lining here is that at least you’re not using my letters as butterbeer coasters.” She had used that phrase before, he remembered. Did she look for a silver lining in everything? That was sort of cool.
“I’ve read them all,” he said quietly, as he stacked some of his own books onto the shelf in the wardrobe that he had just wiped with a dry dust cloth. This was mostly true; he had mostly read them all. Although, now that he was being tested, he might have to fully concentrate on what she was saying.
“Then you know that my tryouts are a fortnight from now. I was going to invite you, but now I think that’s contingent on a written acceptance of my invitation,” she said coolly.
“Let me see what Ron has going on, but I reckon a visit to see Hermione would convince him.”
“Eh, eh.” She cut him off. “Written acceptance. And I did not invite Ron. Fine… he can come, too. Although, if you do come, I think you better bring the Cloak with you, though. Don’t want anyone getting distracted.” She went back to the windows.
“You think I’m a distraction?”
“Mostly you are. Besides, you’ll make me nervous and for once I might accidentally fly into the commentator’s box instead of doing it on purpose for your enjoyment.”
Ginny stood and admired her work. The tall windows in the dark room shone, at least as brightly as they had since the place had been built, and it seemed sunnier than before as she stood there on his bookshelf looking up. She climbed down, refusing his offer of help, and settled on the floor, hugging her knees.
"Nice pictures," she laughed, pointing to the same bikini-clad Muggle girls pasted to the walls. "They'll be keeping you company this year while I'm at school?"
"Hopefully, no. I think I'm going to have to work on an unsticking charm."
"Oh, come on, you know you don't mind them!"
He shrugged, but didn't answer. She narrowed her eyes to the only wizarding photo on the wall. Harry was sort of glad when she didn't comment on it.
“This place, Harry…” She played with her shoelace. “How do you feel about living here? Does it make you miss Sirius? This place makes me think of him. And Tonks.”
“It’s a bit strange, yeah.” He pushed his glasses up his nose. “I do think about him, but I also think about how he wanted to give me this place so I would have somewhere to call home after Hogwarts… or whatever.”
He recognized a complicated glint in Ginny’s eye that he chose to ignore.
“So now you’re a true bachelor, house and all? How does that feel?”
“Well, it's not as glamorous as it seems. This place is a wreck. If only the Wrackspurt population were under control. Reckon we’ll have to tackle this problem next.” He waved his hand in front of him, hoping to make her laugh.
Ginny laughed, covering her mouth. She seemed to be in a better mood now. He was glad that she was coming around, despite his silence and non-writing skills. Harry made a mental note to write more, if it would make her happy.
“How is Luna? Do you see her?”
“I do. She’s doing well, same as always. Except for one thing… she and Dean broke up.”
“Oh.”
“She was sad about it, but she says it was for the best, considering the distance…” Ginny trailed off. “Back to work, shall we?”
Harry agreed and soon they were set to bring the items that no longer belonged in his bedroom into a cupboard under the stairs. He noted on their way out that Ron's door was closed.
Ginny helped him organize the rest of Sirius’s belongings in a corner and by the time they stopped for lunch, they were thoroughly covered in grime and dust, just as she had requested. He thought that now a bit of relaxing was in order, and he planned to try to enjoy the rest of the time they had together.
They went downstairs to the kitchen and enjoyed a very substantial late lunch. Molly had made sure to stock the kitchen well when she had peeked in on him and Ron last night. He was very grateful for the stacks of corned beef sandwiches and bottles of pumpkin juice she had left in the fridge.
By the time Ginny set the dishes to wash and set aside plates for Ron and Hermione since they were not downstairs, Harry had checked his watch and begun to wonder if Ron or Hermione were ever going to need to eat at some point. He knew how hungry Ron always was. Besides, he and Ron had a birthday cake for Hermione specially ordered from Mrs. Weasley, her famous Strawberry Shortcake which Harry was planning to devour a huge slice of as soon as they cut it.
Harry laughed to himself, almost disbelieving that they had all finally arrived in a world where Ron chose Hermione over lunch and cake. However, he shrugged; some things were probably more satisfying than food.
However, he wouldn’t know, now, would he?
Harry sat on the table eating a biscuit as he watched Ginny send the dishes off to the cupboard. He liked watching that shirt hug her in places that he wished to run his hands over. He watched her dry the last dish and send it off as she tossed the towel over her shoulder and stood, hands on her hips, looking up at the ceiling.
“What’re you looking at?” he asked as he finished the last mouthful.
She crossed her arms over herself. “Me? Nothing. It’s just that Ron must be taking a long time; he’s still not so used to being intimate with a girl.”
Harry nearly choked. Between losing his breath for a second and laughing, it was a full minute before he could speak again.
“Well, to tell you the truth, neither am I… really. Do you think I would do any better?” He hoped for a good answer.
For a few moments both of them just sat there, looking up at the ceiling. Maybe it was better off that she wasn’t answering. Why had he asked her that? Damn.
Both he and Ginny knew that their two friends upstairs had indeed consummated their relationship at some point over the summer and must be continuing to do so. In comparison, it was quite the opposite for him and Ginny. Although they were definitely more experienced than they had been at the beginning of the summer, it was a line he wouldn’t even contemplate crossing with her yet.
There was really no comparison between his and Ginny’s relationship and Ron and Hermione’s. Hermione was nineteen now and Ginny had just turned seventeen barely a month previous. Moreover, Harry had been there to experience the physical tension between Hermione and Ron last year. It was bound to express itself physically at some point! Most important of all, Ron and Hermione both knew they had reached the end. They knew what they wanted, they were in love. Harry could hardly think of what to say to Ginny in a letter, and he hadn’t thought about the love thing in weeks. In fact, he hadn’t even remembered to contemplate it until this exact moment.
He did think about Ginny when he read her letters, but not in the love way. In other ways, physical ways. Plenty, too much to deny. Yet, he told himself again that it didn’t make sense right now to worry about doing with Ginny anything possibly resembling what Hermione and Ron could possibly be doing upstairs. Beside his hormones, what was the real rush? He could wait. They could have days and weeks and possibly years to do everything, including that. As nice as the thought of taking Ginny to bed with him sounded, he knew that it was definitely not something he would do until he sorted out what he felt for her. He was more responsible with her feelings than that.
Ginny took a deep breath. “You’re probably much better — most likely.”
“Probably?” He groaned, wondering why he had asked the question. “Thanks.”
“No,” She let out a short, nervous laugh. “I mean, you’re definitely much better. I mean…”
“Please, I’m sorry I asked. Honestly, I would rather you not have answered. In fact, please don’t answer any sort of stupid question I ever ask about that sort of thing from now on. Just hit me or something.”
Ginny gave him a strange look. “Fine. It’s a disturbing comparison, to be honest. At least it’s with Hermione, and Ron’s not off to shag any girl that gives him attention. I’m happy for them. I just don’t want to think about it, the thought makes me nauseous.” Ginny leaned back against the table with a weird expression.
“You really find it disturbing? What they’re up there doing?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged. “You?”
“No, not really. I mean, Hermione’s my best friend and all, and I don’t like thinking about it, but I’m happy for them. I think they’ve both found… something they’ve missed all along. Hermione is happier overall, I think, and Ron is more relaxed. I can tell that he feels really good about himself, you know? That’s good for Ron. I sort of like seeing them together like this.”
“I know, I’m happy for them, too. It’s just—” She stood abruptly and looked back up at the ceiling. “Alright, I’ll be mature!”
“Hey.” He jumped off the table to his feet. “Ron probably wasn’t too keen knowing when we were off doing… stuff… in the summer.”
“Yeah, I suppose you’re right. Although it’s not the same thing! We weren’t doing that kind of stuff.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“You know! The stuff they’re up there doing!”
Harry grinned mischievously at an idea that had just entered his mind.
“We were doing some stuff.” He shrugged. “Listen, Ginny, if I had to give a guess, Hermione’s probably up there folding Ron’s pants. Not doing whatever stuff was on your mind.”
Ginny’s narrowed her eyes at him again, just like her mother would, and promptly whacked him with the damp dish towel she had been using to dry. “I do not have anything on my mind! And I wasn’t thinking anything!”
Harry rubbed his arm where she had hit him. “You were! Thinking about them… doing stuff... You said so yourself!”
“Was not!” She whacked him right on the arm and glared at him accusingly. “I was not thinking anything, I was just saying — don’t you try embarrassing me, Harry. It’s not going to work. ACK!”
This was followed by a few giggly screams as he had taken the towel without her noticing and soon he was chasing her with it threateningly through the kitchen. Ginny, having found a spare dish towel from the sink, began running away.
The laughter between them was contagious. She leapt up onto the table, upending the plate of biscuits Mrs. Weasley had left last night, and he followed behind her, laughing madly, running along the lengthy table, until they jumped down to the floor. He followed her up the stairs into the den where he found her poised to strike. Her face was bright red and she had that determined look on her face as if hitting him with the towel was going to be the last thing she ever did.
She shrieked as he tackled her against the nearest wall.
“What were you thinking about?” He prodded as he backed her against the peeling dark green paint. She tried to wriggle her way out and fight him, trying to hit him repeatedly with the dish towel while he shielded himself with his arms, but he was stronger than her.
“Nothing! I — was — not — thinking — anything, you infuriating — smelly boy…”
“You know you were.” He slid his hand to the small of her back, and then decided to tickle her side.
“Har-eee!” She was laughing hard by now. “Nooooo.”
Before she knew what had happened, he grabbed the towel from her hand, quickly secured it around her waist, pinning her to him.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Geroff me! Lemme go! You can’t do this to me!”
“I can’t?”
“Geroff me. Har-eee!” She wriggled against him. “I am so going to hex you when I get out of here. Where’s my wand? Why did I leave it upstairs?” She struggled against him.
“No wands.”
“Fine.” She relaxed into him and sighed. Both of their breathing was rapid and for a wonderful few seconds she lay with her head pressed to his chest and he held her around the waist. She gripped his shoulders.
“I missed you,” she whispered quietly into his shirt.
“I missed you, too.” His breathing was fast. He truly had missed this more than he realized.
“Why didn’t you write to me?” she asked in a small voice.
Until that moment he had not realized that he had upset her by not writing. It occurred to him that it might have really worried her. He felt horrible.
“Can I be honest?” He released her.
“Yes.” She leaned against the wall.
“I’m not a quick writer and I’m not very good either. The owl would come to deliver your letters, but by the time it left, I wasn’t done writing back to you — you write a lot, Ginny. So then something else would happen and another letter would come and the one I’d been trying to write would be totally stupid sounding by then. And seriously, have you thought of how Ron and Hermione are going to give poor Pig a heart attack going back and forth to Hogwarts every twenty-four hours? Twenty points each for our favourite couple.” He watched her smile. “I try to give Pig owl treats whenever I see the poor thing, just as a concession. Listen, Ginny, isn’t there some kind of easier way we can communicate?”
“You mean, Floo? We won’t be able to talk for long and it will never be private.”
“What else is there?”
“Nothing. It’s not like there’s some magical instant messaging device invented yet. Although I should get my brothers — I mean, George — on that one urgently.”
Harry’s heart fell when he saw Ginny’s face, knowing she was thinking of Fred. “Until then?”
”Until then, it’s owls. Please, just to keep me sane, write to me, at least once a week, alright? I don’t care if it’s not going to make sense. I don’t care what it says. Until I saw you today, I wasn’t sure you even knew my name anymore.”
“Err, no. It’s not that way at all… Priscilla? Jennifer? Which girlfriend are you again?”
She smacked his arm with the dish towel, hard. “Harry! Stop joking, okay? I know you’re not used to it, but this isn’t last year, alright? You’re not hiding from the world…You can write me a note and go to the owl post and have it delivered to me anytime you want. As crafty as you are, I think you’ll find a way. And more, I don’t really care why you do it. Just let me know every week or so that you’re alive! Besides, I like to know what you’re thinking, or if you’re thinking about me at all, because I’m thinking of you quite a lot…”
“Are you?”
“Yeah?”
Instead of answering her, or saying anything he might regret saying, or the entirely wrong thing altogether, Harry kissed her.
“That better?” he asked. “And how would I forget my own girlfriend’s name?”
“I’m really your girlfriend?” she said quickly. “Your only one, I mean.”
“Err, yeah. Haven’t you been since… June?”
“Well, I thought so, but you never asked.” She shrugged quickly.
“I didn’t?”
“No.”
“Come on! Are you joking?”
“Just kidding. I knew.” She kissed him quickly on the lips.
“I wouldn’t want anyone else to be my girlfriend,” he offered, his arms dropping around her waist again.
“Yeah?” she smiled.
“Yeah.”
“Good.”
”Good.”
Harry moved in again and kissed her. Slowly, warmly. Ginny made a great sound into him once and then again, then draped her arms around his neck and arched her body into his. Her noises were a comforting sound to Harry, somewhere between a sigh and a deep breath like the many he was taking, breathing her in. She smelled so good, even after a morning of cleaning house. He felt himself tremble slightly as she tilted her head back for him, and let him kiss her deeply.
Suddenly, all these strange and terrific thoughts enveloped him, coursed through him in shockwaves. He grasped her tightly. He wanted to cry out from the pleasure of now; of holding her around the waist like this. He wanted to be back in summertime, to lay her down in the orchard and kiss her like this for endless hours in the sunshine. He wanted to not be apart from her for another hour lest a thousand more.
“Oy!”
He and Ginny jumped apart so quickly, on instinct, that all of Harry’s jumbled thoughts fell to a heap on the proverbial dusty floor. His body buzzed with the energy of her against him. The warm spot where her body had been that was now cooling rapidly. It had taken all day for him to gather enough guts to make a move on Ginny. He wanted to kick the wall, due to the injustice that Ron had just caused him.
A cross-looking Ron and a timid-looking Hermione with hair more poufy than normal stood there, holding hands. Ron was glaring at him.
Ginny was glaring twice as hard at Ron.
He and Ginny then shared a slightly sorry, longing look. Hermione gave him an apologetic look and then she and Ginny shared a sympathetic look until Ginny went back to glaring at Ron.
“Did I miss something?” Ron scratched his head. “Why is everyone looking at everyone?”
“You’re staring daggers at Harry!” Ginny argued.
“Well, he’s getting off with my baby sister in the middle of the living room!”
”Oh, come off it, Ron!” Ginny shouted. “And you haven’t been buggering the birthday girl all morning in your bedroom.” Harry choked on a laugh again and covered his mouth. That was one thing about Ginny. She sometimes said pretty inappropriate things, for whatever reason, for shock value or humour, or to embarrass others, she could have quite a sharp tongue, especially when it was directed at Ron. Harry could not understand the sibling issues between them, nor did he think he ever would.
“Ron.” Hermione pulled his best friend by the arm. “Let’s go eat lunch and leave them be.”
“I’m not leaving these two alone. They need some supervising.”
“Supervising? Ha!” Ginny laughed at her brother. “Harry and I aren’t the only ones who need supervising, Ron. Sorry to embarrass you, Hermione, but let’s be real here. We haven’t seen you two all afternoon!”
“I was folding Ron’s wash, Ginny.”
“See, told you.” Harry took the dish towel that he had stuffed in his back pocket, and jokingly swiped at Ginny.
“Was that really the only thing you were doing up there?” Ginny confronted Hermione, who looked away. “Thought not. Besides, Harry and I already had lunch so we’ll be going to fold Harry’s wash now, right, Harry?” She pulled him by the arm.
Hermione reddened. “Look, I don’t want fighting on my birthday. Meet us for cake at half three?”
“Fine,” Ginny said haughtily. Harry let Ginny march him away, looking back at Ron apologetically. He knew he would have to ask Ron, once again, to tone it down with the overprotective brother thing.
It’s me, Harry, remember? Your best mate? Not some foul geezer who’s going to run off with your sister.
Maybe Ron was still bitter about their conversation in the summer, about him not knowing if he loved her. If he just told Ron that he did love Ginny, maybe then he would leave Harry alone about her? No, that wouldn’t work. Then it would get back to Ginny somehow and end up being horribly uncomfortable. He imagined having to tell her why he had said that when he actually didn’t mean it and nixed the idea as soon as it came up.
Nevertheless, the forty-five minutes Hermione had given them was generous. And, Ron hadn’t killed him yet; that was a good sign. He knew they would have at least fifteen minutes until Ron scarfed his lunch down and came to check on them. He intended to use it well.
As they walked upstairs hand in hand, Harry thought back to loving Ginny. He supposed there was a real chance that he had felt something back downstairs that was more than caring about her. He knew there was no questioning that she really was a perfect girlfriend for him. They got along so well, and anything they did together was comfortable. Back downstairs, when she was in his arms, he had felt like he had all the answers. Perhaps, it was only when she wasn’t there that he became slightly distracted.
He’d had so much on his mind lately. It was like the day Ginny left, he had all these things to think about and do, no real idea of where to begin and worse, he felt less than motivated to do anything about it at all.
He just wanted things to be okay with Ginny, like she had said they would be at the train station, if he wanted. He wanted them to be, at least for the moment, because he liked being with her so much, and he cared about her, he really did. Of course he did. Yet, already he had messed up by not returning her letters. That meant he was bound to make a few more mistakes with Ginny along the way, and knowing him and his past, things were bound to be less than perfect.