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Harry Potter & the Veil of Shadows | ||||||
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Category: Post-DH/AB Characters:All Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Fluff, General, Romance Warnings: Death, Extreme Language, Sexual Situations, Violence Rating: R Reviews: 306 Summary: Moving on, strange dreams, mysterious newcomers, Death Eaters, the Veil of Shadows, and a little bit of life, laughter and love. Join Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione for their last year at Hogwarts - and the first year of the rest of their lives as they learn that just because Voldemort's gone doesn't mean life's going to be easy! Hitcount: Story Total: 160786; Chapter Total: 8524 Author's Notes: Thanks to the betas - TeyriJen, IcarusPhoenix and TopGun. |
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Chapter Four - "Letters " * * * * * A few happy, sunlit days later, a pick-up game of Quidditch was taking place over the Burrow's improvised pitch. The Weasley children had been almost unanimous in the first flexing of their new financial status, and had largely purchased new brooms. They were, after all, a family that took their Quidditch very seriously. Harry was enjoying actually getting to play as a Seeker, something he rarely got to do at the Burrow unless Charlie was about. All of the siblings were here today, along with a few friends, so their pickup game very nearly had full teams. So at the moment he was flying high above the pitch, observing the game as he scanned for the familiar flutter of gold that signified the Snitch. Exactly opposite him, Charlie was doing the same. Ron was flying the new model Cleansweep 12, ( which wasn't as fast as the rather sleek Firebolt IIs Harry and Ginny had purchased), but had a much better tight-maneuvering, and suited him far better as a Keeper. Harry had to smirk at the way his friend was practically bouncing between the goalposts with his saves. Harry and Ginny were serving in their customary roles as Seeker and Chaser for opposing sides, since the rest of the group had firmly declared that the two best players in the family simply were not permitted to be on the same team. George was playing Beater for Harry and Ron's team, and Percy had been roped into Fred's old role as his partner. George hadn't bought a new broom, as he and Fred had purchased two new Comet 350s just a few months ago. Percy was playing on Fred's, but it was abundantly clear that he wasn't anywhere near as good a Beater as George was. Harry hadn't even known that the most studious of the Weasleys even knew how to play Quidditch in the first place, so he'd had to choke down his surprise. He wondered if anyone realized that Harry, Ron and George were quite accustomed to being on a team together - then he figured that was probably how they'd been saddled with Percy. A strange sort of relationship was developing between Percy and George. Percy hadn't really lightened up, nor had George gotten particularly more serious. George was still mourning his twin (as was everyone, in their own ways), and to be truthful, he probably would for the rest of his life. However, his idea of mourning was drastically different than everyone else's, alternately causing everyone to break out in laughter, or wonder if George had finally gone truly around the bend. The two brothers were simply around each other all the time, making for a very odd pair. Percy was a constant presence for the lone twin, while Ron had willingly slipped into the role of George's new partner-in-crime, occasionally ably assisted by Harry and Ginny. It was not an uncommon sight for a member of the family to awaken with different color hair, skin, or clothes that wouldn't quite fit right. (It had been Ginny's idea to put shrinking charms on all of Percy's underclothes for a week straight. She'd been quite disappointed when it had produced no appreciable difference in Percy's behaviour.) Bill was playing Keeper for the opposing side, and had settled for a slightly-used Cleansweep 10, not particularly wanting to spend quite as much as Ron had. Charlie was likewise playing Seeker, though he'd purchased a Firebolt II as well. Charlie had enthusiastically roared his approval of the new broom, claiming it to be the next best thing to riding a dragon. Harry had agreed, a response that drew a firm 'you're-never-doing-that-again' glare from Ginny and a very visible blanching by Hermione. To say that the latter preferred to pretend that incident had never happened was putting it mildly. Both their actions at Gringott's and the riding of a dragon had deeply offended the bushy-haired witch's sense of order. Her well-known - to the family, at least - fear of flying probably played a lot more into it, Harry figured. Some of the larger surprises were the people rounding out the teams. Fleur had proven to be a particularly devastating Chaser, and Ron was hard pressed to keep her and Ginny from simply running over all of them. Bill had nearly taken Percy's head off earlier in the game for hitting his pregnant wife with a Bludger, before Bill had in turn received a blistering five-minute lecture from Molly (Of all people!) on over-protectiveness and the fact that he very well knew that the Burrow's 'home' Bludgers were charmed not to actually cause any physical damage other than force of impact. Harry, Ginny and George had been unable to contain open, howling laughter on this point, but had all immediately silenced themselves when Molly's flat-iron gaze had turned their way. Still, the Ginny-and-Fleur pair was countered by two of their guests today - Luna Lovegood and Dean Thomas, who had come together and found themselves on Harry and Ron's team. The odd blond girl actually flew quite brilliantly, and so erratically that the opposing team couldn't possibly predict her movements. She and Dean, who had played with Ginny on the Gryffindor team long enough to predict Ginny's moves, had used this to great advantage, and their side was now up, with the score 90-80. Ginny and Bill's team was rounded out by two more guests, Neville and Susan Bones, who had also come as a couple, and made a surprisingly fair pair of beaters. The four visitors had frequently been to the Burrow this summer, and everyone was quite used to their presence by now. Every now and then, though, Harry caught strange looks coming at him and Ginny from Dean, and resolved to ask the dark-skinned boy about it later. Harry's eyes narrowed as he saw Ginny catch the Quaffle, and he nodded to himself in approval as Luna moved to intercept her opponent. There was still no sign of the Snitch, however, and Harry decided he'd try to have a little fun. Charlie watched attentively as Harry suddenly shifted direction downward and, knowing that the younger Seeker had a better eye, immediately moved to follow. Harry wasn't targeting the Snitch, though. As Ginny was moving in towards Ron's goal, Harry bore down on her at maximum speed, swooping just in front of her just as she was preparing to launch the Quaffle at Ron's leftmost goal. The sudden presence distracted her enough to throw off her aim, and Ron easily caught the Quaffle. "Potter!" the diminutive redhead fairly shrieked, glaring steel daggers at her boyfriend. Harry just flashed her his best grin. "All's fair in love and Quidditch, Gin-Gin," he teased, as patronizingly as possible. He only narrowly avoided the yellow stream of light signifying Ginny's famous Bat-Bogey hex that was her response. "Uh-oh, little brother," he heard George smirk at Ron, who was also in hearing range. "Looks like trouble in paradise. Our ickle Gin-Gin seems a tad upset with Harrikins." Ron just snorted loudly. "George, I'll bet you twenty galleons that they're well and truly hitched this time next year." Harry, thankfully, had not heard Ron's reply as he was already resuming his search for the Snitch. It was probably for the better, because that statement probably would have knocked him off his broom all on its own. He studiously ignored George's comment, regardless. Ginny wasn't really mad. At least... he didn't think so... He flew across the makeshift pitch at speed, before suddenly braking as he saw the flash of blue down on the sidelines. "Hey! Let's call it, you lot!" "Harry, what're you on about?" Ron yelled, after diving to save the Quaffle from Fleur's throw this time. "The game finishes when you catch the snitch! You want to play with the titchy little midget, then find the bloody thing!" Harry just glared at Ron for a moment, and then wondered how long it would take Ginny would teach him the bat-bogey hex. "Fine," he finally muttered in exasperation, and turned his attention back to the pitch. He went up high to get a look - noting that Charlie wasn't marking him this time - and started scanning in earnest for the Snitch. Luck was with him, it seemed, because he found the Snitch after only about two minutes. There it was, fluttering about only a few feet from the ground. Hah! he thought in triumph. He immediately dropped into a steep dive, heedless as always of how close to the ground the snitch was. A quick glance confirmed that Charlie wasn't following - he knew very well that the Wronski Feint was a favorite tactic of Harry's, and he was determined not to fall for it. It was just Charlie's luck that Harry wasn't faking this time, and the younger Seeker had an unimpeded shot at grabbing the Snitch. As Harry's hand closed around the Snitch, though, the forward half of his broom dipped down just a little too far, and sent him flying from his broom and rolling into the dirt. Various exclamations were cut short though, when Harry stood as quickly as possible - more or less uninjured for once - and tossed the Snitch with a grin to a grimacing Charlie, who'd been the first to land after him. Harry didn't say anything further, however - he was already heading across the pitch to where Hermione was carrying his godson in her arms. Back by the Burrow, he could see Andromeda Tonks chatting with Mrs. Weasley. Any thoughts about any similarities between Andromeda and her sisters had long since faded in the many visits he (and usually Ginny, and sometimes Ron and Hermione) had often made to see the two of them. In his hurry, he immediately rushed towards Teddy, and very nearly didn't get entirely over the fence first in his rush to his godson. Hermione deftly held Teddy out of Harry's reach, and was shaking her head vigorously. "I don't think so. Look at you, Harry, you're covered in filth. You can't touch a baby in that condition. You're not clean at all. Madame Bellweather says that the easiest way for a child to get sick is to constantly be touched by those covered in germs -" "Alright, alright," he broke in, stopping Hermione before she could really get going on what the esteemed Madame Bellweather said about child rearing. After the announcement by Bill and Fleur, as well as the periodic visits by Andromeda and Teddy, it had taken Hermione less than 24 hours to find a book on child rearing in the wizarding world. The previous night, he and Bill had both been treated to an hour long treatise on how to control any accidental magic by an infant, and he wasn't anxious to repeat the experience. He pulled out his wand, waving it over himself. Hermione heard him mutter Scourgify a few times and then Harry held out his arms expectantly. "Better?" he asked. "Much," she said with a bright smile, and carefully handed the baby over to him. "Thanks," Harry said softly, taking the small baby into his arms. "Hey there, little guy," he said quietly, examining the infant as always. Teddy's hair had gotten longer, he thought, and maybe even more unruly. Granted, that was a hard thing to judge, since the kid was a metamorphmagus like his mother. When Harry first took him, his hair was the familiar turquoise blue. That seemed to be Teddy's favorite, just like that shade of fuchsia pink had been his mother's. As Teddy's attention focused on Harry, though, he screwed his little face up and changed his hair to the same jet-black as Harry's. Ginny had landed on the ground nearby, and leaned her broom against the bole of a tree even as the others were following suit. She, too, ran her wand over herself, cleaning the grime and dirt from her arms and shirt before coming close. She hadn't heard Hermione lecture Harry, but well recognized the look on the other girl's face. Ginny had also watched Harry and Bill the night before, unable to break away from the clutches of Hermione in full-on lecture mode. She had also noticed her mother listening in, shaking her head and smiling at some of the advice being tendered to the father-to-be and the new godfather. (For her part, Ginny had just been trying to contain herself from erupting in peals of laughter at the slightly dazed expressions Bill and Harry had both had.) "Yes, Teddy, that's a much better hair color," she said softly towards the baby, touching his cheek with her knuckle. His face crinkled up and he laughed, attempting to chase the finger down as Ginny zoomed it around her his head. She laughed at Teddy's concentration, looking over at Harry. She was struck suddenly with a momentary vertigo, enough that she let her finger fall for a moment, allowing Teddy to grab it and stuff it into his mouth to chew on it with the same single-mindedness that he had while attempting it's capture. Unmindful of the drool beginning to snake it's way down her wrist, Ginny saw Harry standing there, much as he was, holding on infant that had his own messy black hair. Naturally Teddy's imitation hair was just beginning to stick up in the back as much Harry's did. She saw herself leaning over to kiss both of her men, smiling fiercely at the sight, and then the reality reasserted itself. Teddy wasn't theirs, she forcefully reminded herself, no matter how natural and right the thought seemed. "Gin, you okay?" Harry asked her quietly, his concern more than evident in his voice as he noticed the expression on her face. It was... off...just a bit. "What?" Yeah... yeah, I'm fine," she said, shaking her mane of red hair. The movement caught Teddy's attention, who promptly turned his own red to match. "Landed just a bit too quick, I imagine. Just wanted to get down here to see this little guy." She stuck her tongue out at the baby, making silly faces at him to get him to smile. Her efforts were well-rewarded. Harry watched with a half smile on his lips, slightly quirking up the sides of his mouth. What was it about women of any age and babies? As soon as they were brought together, the outside world ceased to exist for either species. Harry may not have had much experience with the same phenomenon in the Muggle world, but he had definitely noticed it here. Going anywhere with Teddy was almost guaranteed to take twice as long, simply from the sheer number of women who would stop to chat. (It was, he noticed, the only thing that drew more attention than his identity.) He could almost hear Sirius' voice in his head, telling him what an advantage that would be if he was only single. Nor could he help but marvel at Ginny's interactions with his godson, and felt strangely.. whole, standing there with it being just the three of them. Harry hadn't recognized Ginny's earlier look at the pair of them for what it was - the kind of appraising stare a woman gives a man who she thought would do quite well enough as a father for her own children. He also didn't have any clue whatsoever that he was giving Ginny a strikingly similar look at just that moment. George and Ron had also put their own brooms away, and surreptitiously put Harry's and Ginny's into the shed as well. They were now watching the threesome from not too far away, the younger snickering and the older grimacing as they watched the cozy little display. The looks they'd seen from back there were obvious enough to them - and everyone else in the house too, probably. "Fine," George muttered under his breath, and passed a handful of coins to his little brother. Ron just grinned broadly back at his brother. "Told you so." * * * * * "Oh, where is it?!" Ginny exclaimed under her breath, along with several particular epithets that would have gotten a very strong lecture from her mother, had she heard them. Harry had said his broom-servicing kit was somewhere in this god-forsaken rucksack. She needed to trim the twigs on her new Firebolt II, with all the playing they'd been doing over the last week. Harry's rucksack was dirty still, and torn around the edges - clear evidence that he'd been living out of it, on the run, for close to a year. It was also perfectly obvious that the rucksack had been subjected to the same expanding charm as Hermione's little beaded handbag, because she certainly couldn't find any bloody thing inside it at all. "Sod it," the redhead cursed through gritted teeth, and upended the whole thing onto Harry's bed. The youngest of the Weasley clan - for a few more months, anyway - exclaimed in triumph as the kit tumbled out. One item - a book titled Twelve Fail-Safe Ways to Charm Witches - caught her immediate attention, and she quirked her lips into a smirk. The broom kit fell out as well, drawing her attention back to what she was looking for - but as it landed on the bed, something caught her attention, and she couldn't claim to be remotely interested in fixing up her broom. Tumbled out right next to the kit was a series of bound letters, with her name spelled out in Harry's untidy scrawl on the first one. It took only a moment for her to confirm the next two were for Ron and Hermione. An all-too-familiar empty, sinking sensation flooded into her as she sat numbly on the bed. Ginny knew Harry - probably better than anyone alive - and she immediately knew exactly what those unsent letters were. Her hands seemed to move of their own volition, unbinding the stack. Her fingertips drifted over the name out the front for a heartbeat before she opened the letter. The tear of the envelope echoed against the bare floors of the room that seemed so suddenly empty. Ginny didn't even notice that her hand was shaking as she pulled out the letter, and began to read. Ginny, I hope beyond anything that you never see this letter. But if you're reading this, that means that the final battle has finally come, If I'm rubbish with this, at feelings and everything else, so I'll just be out with it. I love you, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry I hurt you last year. I'm sorry we never got the time we should have had. I'm sorry for all the things I never got to say to your face. I'm sorry I never saw what was right in front of me so much sooner. I'm sorry for all the years we've already missed, and everything we've missed if you're reading this. I'm sorry for all the things I did, and all the things we didn't get to do. I'm sorry I won't get see YOU wearing Muriel's tiara. I'm sorry we won't argue over who's turn it is to change the diapers. I'm sorry I'll never get to count every single one of those freckles. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry I never got to say any of this in person. You deserved better than to be dragged into all of this. I just hope you don't ever think that I forgot you. I hope you get to be happy. I hope you still get all those things. Call me selfish, though... but I wish they'd been with me. Love, Your Harry. p.s. Keep an eye on Ron, would you? And get the git to finally make a move on Hermione. Long enough is long enough. Ginny's hand drifted slowly downwards as she stared off into space. She didn't know what to think, how to possibly process this at first. They'd been moving past all of this, learning to live again. Was this how it was always going to be? Life would begin, and then some sudden thing would remind them of all the nightmares, for the rest of their lives? How could he - Ginny started as a giggle echoed through the quiet room. She whipped her head over to face the door, to see a display that would have had her taking the mickey out of her brother immediately under any other circumstances. "Ron!" came Hermione's exasperated squeal. "Not now, Ronald. Your mum is just out- Ginny?" The bushy-haired brunette's voice changed quite suddenly as she spotted the redhead sitting on the side of the bed, looking for all the world as though someone had stepped on her pygmy puff. (This was not the case, obviously, as Arnold had only just waddled by the room in his constant attempts to avoid Crookshanks. The large ginger-haired tomcat regarded the little purple fluffball as something akin to his favorite squeaking toy.) Ron's head darted up at the tone of Hermione's question, and it was a question as to which of them rushed to his sister fastest. "Gin?" he asked in as soft a tone as Hermione had ever heard from him. "What is it? What's happened?" Ginny didn't say anything aloud. She still wasn't sure what to say, so instead, she just passed Ron and Hermione the letters with their names on them. Ron instinctively knew this had something to do with Harry, who, he now realized, he hadn't seen in several hours. He tore his open first, muttering "This better have some bloody answers," as he recognized Harry's handwriting. "If that tosser's run off without telling anybody again, best mate or no, I'm going to - " His mouth immediately clamped shut as he started reading. Ron, Hey, mate. Hopefully you never see this, but if you do, that means I've gone and gotten myself killed. If I didn't take him down, then I know you were right there with me when I tried. I've never actually said how grateful I am to you. Not in words. But thank Merlin you needed a spot on the train that day. I wouldn't be who I am without you and your family. I would never have had a reason to be. You were the first person in my life to ever accept me - and even more, you even accepted me as ME. I reckon that you probably get that about me better than anyone, except maybe Gin. Look out for Gin. I know you will anyway, but keep an eye out for me, too. And finally. Take care of Hermione. And get off your bloody arse and tell her you love her already! It's been long enough. I always wanted you two to be happy together. It's like I told you - she's a sister to me. I knew you were thick, but I thought you could have admitted what you felt for her just a LITTLE sooner. If you haven't yet, put this damn letter down and kiss her, right now! I'll wait. Back? Then take care of yourself too, mate. Harry. ps. - The Cannons are still a horrid team, Ron. Ron tried to form the words to say something, but he stopped as he saw Hermione's eyes darting back and forth over her own letter. Re-reading for the third or fourth time by now, he expected. Hermione, I expect you're probably the one who found these. You'd be the most likely to know about old traditions. And if you don't, well, I expect you've probably thought of it yourself. (And organized them in alphabetical order or by address to make them easier to deliver, no doubt. I always kind of envied that about you.) I saw it in an old movie the Dursleys were watching once, and it seemed like a good idea. But, if you're reading this, that means I'm not around. I really hope that I finished my task. If not, please help the others see it through. You really are the cleverest witch I've ever known, and they'll all need you to tell them how to do it. I've never really said it, but I'm kind glad you were hiding in that bathroom when Quirrell released that troll. I always figured that night was what took the friendship between the three of us to something.. more, this, whatever-it-is that we have. I'm glad you've been with me and Ron all these years - you're my sister in every way that matters. (Which makes my next request a little odd, given that I think of Ron as my brother.) Love him, 'Mione. He's thick, I know, but he loves you even if he hasn't said the words or even figured it out for himself yet. Whenever all of this is over - and if you're reading this, I really hope it is - you two deserve to be happy. You'll fight, and you'll laugh, and you'll cry, and you'll grow old and have babies together - and you deserve every minute of it. You two deserve to LIVE, so.. make sure he catches on, all right? Love, Harry "Oh.." Hermione said quietly, her hand pressed to her mouth. Ron's response, typically, was more far angrier. His face was growing scarlet as he started talking, and he worked himself further and further into a full head of steam. "What was he thinking, leaving these lying around? Why'd he even write them in the first place? It's so bloody stupid - " "He thought he was going to die, Ronald!" Hermione interjected, leaping to Harry's defense. Before one of their famous rows could start, though Ginny's quiet reply cut her off. "Well, he was right, wasn't he?" she pointed out with a rather odd-sounding combination of hollowness and bitterness in her voice. "He did die, in the end." Any further conversation was muffled by the sound of a door slamming downstairs. Ron, Hermione and Ginny all looked at each other in brief confusion as they heard booted feet clomping up the stairs. That confusion abated, however, when they heard Harry's voice muttering a string of curses. "..couldn't use my sodding wand, no, we just had to do it the Mug-" Harry drew himself up short at the door to his and Ron's room. He was covered in grime, and holding an equally grubby rag against his palm, which was starting to soak through with red. "Hey, what's - " he started, before a red-haired blur thudded against his chest. He was far from unappreciative of the attention, of course, and the creature in his chest purred its obvious approval at her close proximity. "Gin, what?" "My Harry," was all the answer she gave, speaking softly into his extremely dirty shirt. In complete astonishment (and completely forgetting his wounded hand) he looked to Ron and Hermione for explanation. The bushy-haired witch just looked overcome with emotion, something that seemed to be happening more and more often lately - something he suspected had to do with her missing parents. He was just on the verge of asking if they'd all gone completely mental when Ron was the one to give him a partial answer. Of course, Ron's answer was to reach over and thump him upside the side of his head, so Harry didn't find that to be particularly helpful. Harry sighed. "Is anyone going to tell me what's got you lot so bloody worked up?" Hermione held the three letters up in her hand. "It seems you forgot to properly dispose of something, Harry." "Ah," Harry said stupidly, his face flushing with crimson as he realized just what letters those were. "You, erm, weren't exactly supposed to see that." The last few words were almost whispered. "They were addressed to us," Ginny pointed out. And then, quieter, just to him. "And that's a hell of a way to say 'I'm sorry', you berk," she added in reference to the content of his letter. "Well, yeah," he admitted reluctantly. "They were for if something.. happened. There were things that I didn't want to go unsaid. Things that hadn't been said for long enough as it was." Ron hand his hand around Hermione's shoulders now, and she was absently threading her fingers through his. Both wanted to say something more, and both realized how quickly the topic had become a private one for Harry and Ginny alone. Hermione figured it out just a little quicker, though, and silenced Ron with an elbow as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. "Did you..." the shorter redhead asked in a hesitating voice, bringing her eyes up to where they just barely met his. "Did you really mean everything you wrote down?" "Every word," he whispered quietly into her hair as she pressed herself against him once again. And for just a moment, he couldn't help regretting Ron and Hermione's presence so that he could show Ginny what he'd meant a little more... privately. She seemed to get the message, however, even as Harry gave her a reassuring squeeze. As he did so he quite forgot about his wounded hand, and the grimy rag he'd appropriated as a makeshift bandage slipped off. "Merlin, Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, letting go of Ron's hand to rush over to where Harry and Ginny were. "What happened to your hand? And why did you wrap it in this rag? It's going to get infected if you don't clean it right away." "Oh, right..." Harry said, remembering why he'd come up in the first place. "Well, It's not that bad. I just came to see if we still had some dittany, actually." It did not go unnoticed that he had completely declined to answer the question, nor had he offered an explanation for why he was so dirty. Ginny grabbed the hand that Harry was, by this time, trying to hide behind his back. He'd closed it into a fist up until the point where she gave him a suitable glare, once more worthy of her mother. Sighing, Harry acceded to the silent command, and opened his palm. Ginny's mouth set itself in a flat line as she steadily unwrapped the wound, revealing a long, sharp gash spread diagonally across his palm. As soon as she removed the rag, it began to bleed even more profusely. As Ginny examined the wound, Hermione took it upon herself to begin the interrogation. "Harry, what in the world were you doing? Does this have to do with what you and Mr. Weasley are doing out in the shed?" Comprehension dawned on Ron's freckled face at that. "Oh, that's where you were. Blimey, mate, I thought you'd run off or something. Hey, did you find the - " "Shut it, Ron," Harry growled half-heartedly, reminding his friend that the project in the shed was quite secret. He and Mr. Weasley had even gone so far as to add a password and a Caterwauling Charm the first time they'd found Ginny and Ron trying to sneak into the shed at night to see what they were up to. They'd only let Ron in on things when they'd needed another set of hands one afternoon. "Right, sorry," came the suitably sheepish reply. "If you're going to get hurt this easily, you probably shouldn't be - " Hermione continued, as though Ron had never even spoken. She did, however, file away the fact that Ron knew what Harry and Arthur were up to out there for later reference. "Can't tell you," Harry said, cutting off any further inquiries. Ginny looked up from Harry's hand at that. She was using the bottom of her t-shirt (which was considerably cleaner than Harry's oily and dirty rag) to clean out the wound and keep it from bleeding more. "More secrets, Harry?" she asked dangerously, her eyes narrowing. "No, no, it's not a secret," Harry replied quickly, remembering his promise. "It's a surprise. Hopefully." "But Harry, if you're going to practically slice your hand off-" Hermione cut in, and Harry started to feel rather like he was being double-teamed by the two witches. Ginny was not exactly being gentle as she cleaned out the wound. "Hey, I am injured here, you know! Hermione?" Once again, Harry heeded Ron's advice, and cut her off before she hit her stride. It appeared to apply just as well to Hermione as it did to Molly Weasley. "The dittany please, perhaps some time before I bleed out all over Ron's room?" "Yeah, mate, the red would clash horribly with all the orange. I don't fancy having to redecorate," Ron said, before remembering something else. "And what's this rubbish about the Cannons? I'll have you know they've got two new Chasers this season. They're going -" That earned him equal glares from Hermione and Ginny both. Harry heard Hermione mutter something suspiciously like "boys!" as she started rummaging through her handbag. Finally, she got to the bottle of dittany - which was empty. "It's gone, Harry," she said with a frown. "I thought..." "Oh, hell with it." Ginny muttered, and pulled out her wand. Harry frowned, and started to pull his hand away. "Gin, it's not your birthday yet. You can't - " "Absolvo." she muttered under her breath, waving her wand quickly across the wound. A small white light shot from her willow-and-dragon-heartstring wand, and completely sterilized both hand and wound. "Episky," Ginny continued, and this time drew her wand along the wound. As she did, the white light reappeared, and new, fresh skin and tissue formed. Harry looked down at his hand in amazement. "Thanks," he said curiously. When had Ginny become so good with healing spells? Ginny was still glaring. "Don't make me do it again." Now was apparently not the time to ask. * * * * * Later that afternoon (after a long shower for Harry) the foursome were lounging out by the Burrow's small pond. All had changed into swimsuits, and were currently taking a break from the swimming they’d been doing. Ginny watched with interest as she saw her father exit his shed, his clothes in much the same condition as Harry's had been earlier. More subtle attempts to learn what Harry was up to had proven unsuccessful. She'd snuck into the bathroom using the trick with the handle the twins had rigged a long time ago while Harry was showering, to try to get a better look at Harry's dirty clothes to figure out what he was up to. It had taken a great deal of restraint on her part to not take a peek at Harry while he was showering, and she'd almost given the whole thing away when she started cursing under her breath while still in the small bathroom. The prat had cleaned them off before getting in the shower. As well as she knew him, she was starting to get a little disturbed by the fact that he could predict her just as easily. It was a bit annoying really, and she said so now. Harry just laughed, "Well, it's not like I haven't known you for years, Gin. More importantly, I know your brothers, and just how sneaky you became to defend yourself properly." "Humph," she replied, and he teased her frustration away with a quick and simple kiss. That act which drew protests from Ron, until the point where Hermione rather satisfactorily captured his attention. "Forgive me?" Harry asked teasingly, his deep green eyes seeming to bore into hers. There was a laughter there she had so very rarely seen, and a strange kind of peace. When he looked at her like that, how could she not? Still, she supposed she could forgive him for times like this - an afternoon of idle conversation, the four of them just enjoying the sun, the peace, the quiet, and each other's company. "Oh, fine," she finally muttered, taking care to at least look like she was sulking about it. Unfortunately, even this blissful afternoon could not go uninterrupted. A large brown barn owl landed ceremoniously directly in front of Hermione, puffing out it's feathers in a clear sense of its own importance. Ron cocked his head at the self-important bird as Hermione reached over to untie the letter. "Kinda looks like Percy, doesn't it?" he asked, causing Harry and Ginny to laugh, and at least got a chuckle out of Hermione. For no particular reason, Ginny decided to pull Harry into another kiss at that - a subtle reminder of when things had been estranged between her brother and the rest of the family over Harry, just whose side she'd chosen. Not that Harry would ever forget. Those ministrations distracted her until Hermione let out an excited squeal, which was closely followed by Ron lifting her up and twirling her around, and equally large smile on his face. "Hermione, what is it?" she asked as she and Harry closed the gap, eager to know what had excited their friend so much. "Read!" the bushy-haired witch exclaimed, shoving the letter into Ginny's hands. Ms. Granger, We are pleased to inform you that the Australian Ministry of Magic has, based upon the information you provided, located your parents, the Drs Wendell & Monica Granger, under the aliases of Dr. Wendell & Monica Wilkins, practicing dentistry in the Muggle city of Cairns. However, we regret to say that neither Australian specialists nor our own people have been able to undo your well-performed memory charms, and that your parents thought us quite mad when we attempted to tell them that they were not who they believe to be. I feel I must also note that your father also displayed an exceptional level of skill with a cricket bat. I daresay my hat may never recover. Your presence is therefore requested tomorrow morning at the International Portkey Office at precisely 8:15 am, where you will be relayed to the headquarters of the Australian Ministry, and then be taken to your parents. Please do not be late, as International Portkeys take some time to set up, and only the intervention of Minister Shacklebolt has allowed you to get this opportunity so quickly and bypass much of the standard paperwork. Your servant, Fiducius Dinkle, Department of International Magical Co-operation, Ministry of Magic, London, U.K. Ginny's eyes darted up as she handed the letter off to Harry, and then rushed to rescue her friend from her brother's embrace - so she could hug her herself. * * * * * It had taken all of two days - even despite Ginny's extremely welcome presence - for the absence of his friends to send Harry into a funk. Hermione and Ron had left for Australia the very next morning after getting the letter from the Ministry. Harry had never asked whether they wanted him to come with or not, simply assuming that they did. Therefore, when he'd come downstairs with a his rucksack to meet them, he had been just a bit put out at Hermione's declaration that he was going to stay right here, thank you very much. Protesting had not gotten him anywhere, as Hermione had clearly laid out that they knew where they were going, would not be in trouble, and would be spending at least a week there helping her parents pack. Also, she felt that, as she would be bringing a boyfriend (Ron) home for the first time, not to mention explaining just why she had made her parents think they were completely different people for almost a year, she didn't really prefer to complicate the issue by bringing a second boy with her as well. Aside from that, she had only submitted paperwork for herself and Ron, presuming (or perhaps, ensuring), that Harry would have to stay at the Burrow with Ginny. Harry had not taken any of that well and had, rather true to form, simply not said anything and wished them luck. Truthfully, it didn't take the whole two days to send him into a downward spiral, as Harry found himself getting steadily more irritable from almost the moment Ron and Hermione had departed. It hadn't really come to a head until he and Ginny had gotten into a rather spectacular row in the middle of the Burrow's living room over the entire thing, when he made a rather thoughtless comment about being left out. "Oh, how absolutely horrible for you, Harry," she finally snapped, having had quite enough of the entire argument. "I wouldn't know what that's like at all, to be left behind." "Well, that's just completely off the point!" Harry yelled back, and then whirled away from her. He stormed out through the kitchen and into the back garden. She's right, you know, a particularly irritating corner of his brain informed him. It's exactly what you did to her last year. Shut it, he told that part of his brain, refusing to admit that it was right, or that there was no real reason for him to have gone, and every reason for just Ron and Hermione to go on their own. A bit of movement caught the corner of his eye, and Harry grinned - though it came out as more of a grimace - when he realized there was at least one way to take out some of his frustration. The little garden gnome that had popped his head out saw the wizard smiling predatorily, and wisely attempted to flee. Rather unfortunately for it, Harry's legs were far longer, and he caught the gnome with ease. He managed to send the first one flying a good forty feet beyond the garden's back fence. The little buggers were as foul-mouthed as ever, insulting both Harry and his parentage. He took a particular satisfaction in tossing the third one, which had tried to leave a generous-sized bite on his hand. He'd popped it on the back of the head to daze it, and then wound up far more than was necessary before sending that gnome flying. Sixty feet. Not bad at all. He was just pulling up a fourth when a voice startled him. "Feel better?" Ginny asked quietly, startling Harry and causing him to jump. He hadn't heard her come out, and hadn't expected her to come after him. This, of course, had the result of letting the gnome he'd just grabbed get a bite on him, and Harry quickly became irritated again before punting the offensive little monster away. It wasn't nearly as effective as the 'wind-up-and-throw', method, but was much more satisfying. "No," Harry replied, a defeated tone in his voice before he turned to face her. She was standing tensely, arms folded under her breasts and staring straight at him. That blazing look was still in her eyes, but he detected worry in her stance, too. It suddenly hit him - they hadn't really had a proper row like this before, between the two of them. She was just as worried as he was that ˜they were ok". Strangely, that thought comforted him. He felt his anger fade completely as he exhaled, as though he was simply banishing it from his body. "I'm sorry, Gin," he started, and moved over to pull her into an embrace. She laid her hands flat on his chest in response, and brought her eyes up to meet his downcast ones. "I didn't mean to blow up, or to take it out on you. And that was a really horrible thing to say, and I know you haven't really forgiven me for leaving you last year, but I just - " Ginny interrupted him before he could get a really good head of steam on his self-flagellation. "Harry, it’s okay. I know that you didn't mean it to come out the way that it did. I also...somewhat... understand your reasoning for leaving me behind last year and not trying to contact. It doesn't make it all go away, yet, but I do understand. This situation is slightly different, though. They didn't leave you behind for your safety, you know. They want some time to themselves. They wanted you to have some time to put your life back together, rather than go haring off to Australia with them. It's understandable that you would be a bit put out by all that, but still. You don't need to take it out on me or anyone else here. You also don't need to sit around and sulk and being 'left out' ".Harry knew that she was right, but he still wasn't sure of what to say. He could also tell by Ginny's tone that she knew that there was more he was saying, and he reflected that she was probably right. It wasn't really that they'd gone without him that was really winding him up so much. Ginny sat down on the Burrow's stoop, patting a spot next to her. She pulled her wand out of her pocket and held out her other hand for Harry's. "Well.." he said slowly, following her instructions and sitting down next to her. He winced slightly as she took his hand into hers to examine the bite."It's really not that bad," she said, in regards to the wound. She waved her wand over it and muttered the same Healing Charm from a few days previously. The wound healed before their eyes, leaving a faint scar which continued to disappear as they both watched it. Once it was finally gone, Ginny put her wand back in her pocket and looked back into Harry's eyes. She had to pull his face up to get him to look at her, as he was studiously keeping his eyes downcast. "Harry, look at me. Tell me what you're thinking." "I'm sorry about yelling," he mumbled out, the regret and guilt clear on his face. "I don't... I don't want to fight with you, Gin." Ginny smiled. As always, it warmed Harry's insides, melting the small knot of ice that had formed in his midsection since Hermione had declined to take Harry with her and Ron. "You have to remember, Harry, that people fight. We argue, we have a difference of opinion... We are each our own person, and sometimes those people just don't agree. It doesn't mean anything. In fact, I prefer fighting to not, sometimes. It means that you feel comfortable and safe enough with me to let me see you with your guard down. As irritating as the sulking was, it was also just another way to verify that you do love me." Harry looked at her quizzically. "Oh, I'll admit that it is a strange thing to say. It helps that I'm a girl, therefore I can say strange things like that and you just have to accept them." She smirked at him. When he opened his mouth to say something, Ginny placed her finger over his lips, running the tip of it over his mouth briefly. She leaned forward and placed her mouth over his for a kiss. Harry quite readily accepted that, but he fixed a mock glare on her after they pulled back from it. "That's cheating, Weasley." "And I'll do it whenever I have to, Potter," she said saucily, with an exaggerated flip of her hair that left them both chuckling. "But seriously, Harry, we both know that you being left behind isn't the only thing that's been on your mind." She didn't mention - because she didn't think it necessary - how many times she'd seen him with a pensive, thoughtful look on his face recently. Sometimes it was tinged with sadness, sometimes with anger, but it was there an awful lot of frowns on his face lately. Whenever he caught her looking at him, he would smile at her in that way that always did (and she hoped, always would) melt her insides. But it didn't replace the fact that there was something on his mind, something eating away at him, and she wanted to know what it was. "I don't know," Harry finally admitted. "I'm just... restless. I don't know what to do now." "What do you mean?" she asked him, giving him time to phrase his thoughts and dig out what it was. Ginny had her suspicions, but rather suspected Harry needed to put it into words himself. "It's like.." Harry stopped, searching for the words before finally just deciding to start talking and see what came out, "As much as I hated the prophecy, and what it said I had to do. I had a purpose, you know. Even before I knew about it, I was driving towards it. But now I'm just drifting. Aimless. I've got no rudder but you, and you're going back to school next year. We're going to have to be apart again for almost a year. I didn't even finish school. I didn't take my NEWTS. And any kind of job with the Ministry is going to be because of sodding Voldemort. I never gave any thought to being anything other than an Auror. I figured I'd have to be one to beat Riddle, or I'd die trying and it wouldn't really matter. I never came up with a plan for ˜after" - other than some rather nice daydreams involving you." He winked at her, taking her aback for a moment. She grinned at him briefly, then gestured for him to continue. "I'm living here in your parents house, who won't even let me pay rent - though I guess I side-stepped that one, actually - but I don't know what to do. I don't want to fight anymore, but I don't know how to do anything else, Gin." "Well," Ginny begin slowly, thinking about it. He did have some very good points. Any job that he would try and obtain would be given to him because of who he was, not necessarily on his merits alone. There weren't that many openings for 'Evil Dark Lord Slayer' - thankfully - so it also wouldn't be given to him for the right reasons. She cast around for a moment, trying to think about what else he could do. "What about Quidditch? Anyone who has seen you fly knows that you are an excellent Seeker. Surely there would be an opening somewhere..." He snorted. "Yeah, but what team would have me? I haven't played more than a pick-up game in over a year. The team scouts are going to be looking at the Hogwarts and other minor league teams. I wouldn't have a shot." "Well, I think you might be selling yourself just a little bit short. You could always use your reputation to get at least a trial, you know." Ginny didn't even need to see his glare to know just how likely that was, and just gave him a wicked grin when she did look up at him. "Well, we'll just have to find some way to pass the time until you figure it out, Mr. Potter. Whatever shall we do with ourselves?" Harry readily returned that grin. "Oh, on that front, I've at least an idea or two," he replied conspiratorially before drawing her to him for another kiss. |
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