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SIYE Time:15:13 on 28th March 2024
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Magic Within, Magic Without
By St Margarets

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Category: Post-OotP
Characters:Harry/Ginny
Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff
Warnings: Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 494
Summary: A Portkey launches Harry and Ginny on a journey of discovery and adventure. A fluffy H/G tale set in the summer after the events of OotP.
Hitcount: Story Total: 76761; Chapter Total: 6740







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A/N: I'm baaack. It's only been a week, really. The fighting hamster was a huge distraction! Thanks, as always, to Sherry and Julu.

At the end of this chapter there is a reference to the twelve uses of dragon's blood. Here is what I was referring to: On Dumbeldore's chocolate frog card in book one - one of his accomplishments is "discovering the twelves uses of dragon's blood." In an interview with JKR, she was asked what the twelve uses were. She wouldn't say - but she did say that the twelfth was "oven cleaner."

Chapter Eight: The Knot Garden

When Harry and Ginny returned from their walk, Aunt Martha took one look at their dripping hair and flushed faces, and sent them to their respective houses for warm baths and dry clothes.

The sunflower was suspicious as to why Ginny was having a shower in the late afternoon. "And why are you looking so happy about being caught in the rain - hmmm?" Ginny only giggled and reached for her favorite cauldron-scraping shampoo. How could a sunflower ever understand?

Even Lotty seemed more interested in Harry and Ginny than in presenting the meat pie with the pastry cows and pigs marching across its surface. Harry was goggling at the rather gruesome reminder that the pie ingredients used to graze in the fields, so he didn't notice the elf's large eyes darting from him to Ginny - or the small smile and satisfied nod she gave before turning away.

Aunt Martha, for her part, was at her perverse best the rest of the evening. She said she needed an agricultural tract that was housed in the manor library - so she sent Harry on that errand, while Ginny stayed behind to help Lotty alphabetize the potion ingredients in the airing cupboard. This sudden spurt of industry told Ginny - and Harry too, by the amused glances that he kept sending her - that Aunt Martha was on to them and that they were destined to be apart that night.

Finally, at nine o'clock, after the anxiety clock wondered if it would stay cloudy for the Perseid meteor showers on the weekend, Aunt Martha shooed Harry away. "I'm too tired to chaperone you two any longer. Harry, you'll have to go now. You'll see Ginny in the morning."

Ginny let out an exasperated sigh, which seemed to amuse the old lady. "Why don't you see him to the door, my dear?" Her raspy laughter followed them into the kitchen.

"Are we supposed to shake hands now?" Harry said, smiling.

"Don't let the door hit you on the way out," Ginny answered, looking at the floor and crossing her arms in front of her. She was vexed with her aunt and couldn't understand why it wasn't bothering Harry more.

"Um."

Ginny looked up and saw, to her dismay that he was frowning worriedly at her. "I'm sorry, I'm not upset with you; I don't know why Aunt Martha's acting this way."

His expression cleared. "Because she can act this way. And she's trying to protect you."

"Protect me!" Ginny flared. "From what? You? I don't need any protection, thank you very much."

"I know that - so does she -really. But she's old-fashioned -"

"You know, I really hate when you're reasonable and I want to be unreasonable," she interrupted. "Don't you care she's going to keep us apart from now on?"

"I don't think she's going to be that bad - she did send us out here alone to say good-bye."

Ginny gaped at him. She had completely missed that point. They were standing in a dim pool of candlelight, casting the rest of room in shadows. She could hear the soft rain on the windowpanes.

"We're wasting time," he said, stepping closer to her.

They were wasting time. There was no need to talk about Aunt Martha when his t-shirt was smooth against her cheek and he smelled so good - like soap and -

His mouth captured hers and slowed her thoughts until she was pliant and relaxed against him. Suddenly there was time - this affection wasn't going to end tomorrow. Tomorrow she would see him and he would kiss her like this or maybe in some new, wonderful way that they hadn't discovered yet.

So when he gently pulled way, Ginny could look into his eyes and feel the happiness of many moments to come, not just the one they had shared. "All good-night kisses should be like this," she said a bit huskily.

"Right," he agreed, giving her a kiss filled with the warm promise of more . . .

They heard a cough from the sitting room.

"I'll go," he said, stroking her hair.

"I'll stay," she said ruefully.

"Bye."

"Harry? " He had his hand on the doorknob.

"What?"

"Thank s for helping with my Patronus."

He looked pleased, but he only shrugged and said, "It was in you all along."

He smiled and left, the door shutting behind him with a gentle click.

*

Ginny slept late the next morning even though the sun was shining brightly through her bedroom window. She sprang out of bed and dressed quickly, hoping she hadn't missed Harry.

The kitchen was so bright with morning light, that Ginny had to squint against it to see Aunt Martha reading her mail and Harry eating his breakfast. They both looked up and smiled as she sat at the table.

She felt a little breathless and shy for some reason, seeing him again. Maybe because, in the clear light of day, he looked so . . . good. There was something about that combination of green eyes and dark hair that always looked fresh and attractive - like an open field or -

"Market day in London is Tuesday," Aunt Martha was saying, cutting into Ginny's reverie. "The men need help loading the boats for the next few days. Will you help them, Harry?"

He glanced at Ginny.

Resigned to the fact that he couldn't get out of it, and not wanting to make it harder for him, she smiled and shrugged.

"Sure," he told Aunt Martha, while he kept his eyes on Ginny.

"Excellent."

Ginny looked sharply at her aunt. She was sounding amused again. But Aunt Martha was frowning now, reading another letter. "Ginny, I'm afraid I have bad news. Your parents won't be able to visit on your birthday like they had planned."

Since Ginny had completely forgotten about her birthday, this blow wasn't as hard to take as it could have been.

"It seems they have business with the Order." Aunt Martha sighed. "I know you must be disappointed, but Harry and I will just have to make up for it - won't we?"

Harry was looking so flummoxed that Ginny knew he had forgotten her birthday as well. She could certainly forgive him for that; it wasn't as if they had ever made a big deal about it at the Burrow. Last year, it had blended in with their celebration of Harry's acquittal in front of the Wizengamot. She sighed for all the worry they had gone through last summer.

Both Harry and Aunt Martha misinterpreted her sigh. "We'll have a little party of our own - Lotty makes wonderful cakes," Aunt Martha hastened to say.

"Yeah, and when your mum and dad can come - they will - and then you'll have another birthday with them," Harry added quickly.

"We'll even give Harry the day off from loading boats - since it will be on Sunday anyway," Aunt Martha said at her silence.

Ginny looked from her aunt's anxious face to Harry's. They were both being so sweet. "I'll miss Mum and Dad," she said, "but I think I'll have a lovely birthday with the two of you."

Aunt Martha beamed and Harry looked relieved.

"It's all settled then," Aunt Martha said briskly. She looked at her watch. "Harry, you'd best run along. They are loading at the wool warehouse today. I'd advise you to fly over there - they'll be starting any moment." Then she peered at Ginny who was tucking into her plate of eggs and toast. "I think Ginny and I will take a walk together this morning."

Harry shot her a sympathetic smile. He was getting off easy since he was only going to work for eight hours - Ginny, on the other hand, looked poised to be on the receiving end of a lecture from Aunt Martha.

*

Aunt Martha wanted to walk to the front of the manor house. "I haven't visited that garden in weeks," she explained as they crossed the rose garden. The June roses had long gone by, but the pink climbing roses and the newer hybrids filled the windless air with perfume. Aunt Martha stopped every now and then to peer for aphids or to deadhead a browning bloom.

Ginny walked slowly next to her, enjoying the blue sky and the anticipation of another hot afternoon to swim in the river. And then Harry would be back in time for supper. And after supper it would be light enough for a long walk and then . . .

"Ah, let's sit on the bench."

Startled, Ginny realized that they were now in the front of the manor house underneath what looked to be the drawing room windows. They were on a rise, so they had a lovely view of the steeply sloping lawn to the south, the forest to the east and the tree-lined canal to the west. None of this held Ginny's attention because directly in front of them, set in the midst of a set of intricate gravel paths, were green boxwoods, carved into the most fantastic topiary shapes.

"This is the knot garden," Aunt Martha explained, sitting on the highly polished wooden bench. "It's a little too formal for my taste, but I do enjoy the fountain."

Then Ginny noticed the mellow white marble fountain, set in the center of the knot garden, judging by how all the paths converged on it. It was in the shape of a winged animal with three heads where the water spouted out.

"What kind of animal is the fountain supposed to be?" Ginny asked.

"A dragon. Take a look around while I sit," Aunt Martha said a bit breathlessly.

Her color was good, so Ginny didn't worry about leaving her for a few minutes. The fountain, upon closer inspection, looked very old - and the dragons looked very fat and almost jolly, even though they had formidable fangs. The topiaries were a delight. Ginny knew she would have enjoyed her visits to Aunt Martha's more if she could have seen these when she was a little girl. She marveled at the dancing bear, the swan, snake, lion, and unicorn. Seeing that sculpture reminded Ginny of her Patronus, and she wondered if perhaps Aunt Martha knew what connection unicorns had to the Weasley family.

It took her a few moments to find her way back to the bench, as the serpentine paths didn't permit a direct route. Aunt Martha was still there, looking a bit tired but alert as ever.

"It's a fantastic garden!" Ginny said enthusiastically.

"Johnny was afraid of it at first - the animals were all so much bigger than he was," Aunt Martha replied with a small smile. "But he came to love it."

"What was his favorite?" Ginny asked softly as she sat next to her Aunt.

"The lion," Aunt Martha replied. "He thought it looked sdong but ice."

"What?"

Aunt Martha laughed. "I forgot that only mothers can understand their two year olds. Strong and nice is what he meant."

"Oh!" Ginny laughed, and then her heart contracted. What a sweet little boy he must have been.

"John would say, 'Oh no, he's going to be in Gryffindor.' Then he'd try to convince Johnny to like the nice snake that never leaves the ground." Aunt Martha shook her head. "And then I'd take him over to the badger and tell him that badgers are mammals and have fur."

Ginny, who had grown up in a family of Gryffindors, had never considered what inter-house rivalry would be like at home. "Would you have minded if he was a Gryffindor?"

"Not at all!" Aunt Martha exclaimed. "Most of the Weasleys were in Gryffindor. It is just such a dangerous house, that's all."

"What do you mean, 'dangerous'?" She frowned, not liking any criticism of her beloved house.

"The Gryffindors were always to the risk-takers, always the ones in trouble," Aunt Martha explained. She patted Ginny on the knee. "It's a wonderful house and you should be proud to be in it. It suits the Weasleys - with their long connections to this land and therefore, the lion of England."

"What do you mean the lion of England?" She had only heard of the Gryffindor lion.

"Even the Muggles know about the traits of the lion - its courage and steadfast heart. It's on the Muggle coat of arms, along with the unicorn of Scotland."

Her heart started beating faster. "What are the traits of the unicorn?"

"Purity of the heart. With those two traits united, you have the strength of this land." Aunt Martha looked far to the horizon where the blue sky met the green trees, dividing this magical estate from the Muggles. From here Ginny could just make out the two interlocking birch trees.

"I conjured a Patronus yesterday," Ginny began.

"Oh, you got around to that?" Aunt Martha said, still looking at the view, but smiling to herself.

Ginny bristled, but continued, "It was a unicorn."

Aunt Martha turned to her, but didn't say anything.

"All my brothers have unicorn hairs as their wand cores - but I don't."

"Yet - your Patronus is a unicorn," Aunt Martha said. "That makes sense."

"But," Ginny said, "when Harry saw it - he wasn't surprised - but then he was worried."

"What do you mean, worried?"

"Because the first unicorn he ever saw was dead and You-Know-Who was drinking its blood." Ginny looked at her aunt and then voiced the nagging doubt she had felt since seeing that look in Harry's eyes. "I mean, it's all right to have a unicorn hair for a wand core - that's not supposed to drive away dementors. But it just seems - I don't know - weak - to have a unicorn for a Patronus."

"I think you have both missed the point," Aunt Martha said firmly. "A unicorn is one of the most powerful magical animals. Just because it doesn't prey on other animals - doesn't mean that it is weak."

"But - " She hesitated. "I think Harry thinks I'm weak."

"Why do you say that?" Aunt Martha asked, looking genuinely surprised.

"Because he was so worried - and he had to rescue me once before." Her voice had a bitter note in it that she didn't like.

"Ah." Aunt Martha looked off into the distance.

Ginny wondered if Aunt Martha knew about her first year. Somehow she didn't think that bit of news had made it in to Mum's Christmas card that year.

"Do you know what that boy has been through?" Aunt Martha finally asked.

This surprised Ginny, since she didn't know Aunt Martha knew Harry's history. She wondered if he had confided in her - and about what if he had. She nodded.

"Given that," Aunt Martha said, "doesn't it make sense that he would be worried about losing someone he loved?"

"Harry doesn't love me!" she sputtered. How could he? It was too soon.

"Oh you think so? What was all that yesterday then?"

What was all that yesterday then? A good question - and one Ginny wasn't prepared to answer.

When Ginny didn't answer, Aunt Martha asked, "Do you want to know when I knew the difference between being in love and loving?"

Ginny nodded.

"In my fifth year - I told you I accepted John's invitation to Hogsmeade because he had grown tall enough." Aunt Martha laughed in reminiscence. "We had a marvelous time and I thought I was the luckiest girl because someone so handsome and fun and popular liked me. I really put him on a pedestal. Then one day I was on the grounds with my friends and here was John with a group of Slytherins trying out a new broom. Now you have to understand that brooms were mostly handcrafted back then. They weren't like today, where they are all the same. Here John got on that broom and fell off - over and over again."

Ginny couldn't imagine falling off a broom - flying was as natural as breathing to her.

"I know," Aunt Martha said, reading her expression. "It seems ridiculous. It was ridiculous - but that's when I knew I loved him - because he fell off of that broom, but kept trying anyway. I told my friends off for laughing at him. I knew better than to let him know I was there - but he heard about it anyway."

"What happened?" Ginny prompted.

Aunt Martha sighed. "He was proud - too proud to admit to his weaknesses. Or - he didn't trust me enough with his weaknesses. Now that I think about it - that was probably it. But he broke it off with me."

"What!"

"He picked a quarrel and I rose to the occasion beautifully," she said with a rueful shake of her head. "And we went our separate ways."

The sadness was still in her voice - even after a hundred years. "Oh," was all Ginny could think to say.

"So - it went like that for a few weeks - he wouldn't even look at me in the Great Hall. The next Hogsmeade weekend, I stayed behind. I didn't want to see all the places where we had gone and had such a good time. I was wandering around the grounds - and here was John, trying to fly that broom again."

"Was he angry you saw him?"

"Surprised - and embarrassed. But I didn't care - I told him I was going to help him learn to fly that thing whether he liked it or not - because I was his friend."

Ginny smiled and liked Aunt Martha all the better for it.

"He accepted. He said he didn't want to deny a Hufflepuff their fun of helping people." Aunt Martha smiled at this memory.

"But I told him that I was helping him because I was a Weasley, not because I was a Hufflepuff. He didn't understand what that meant then - but he did later on."

Not quite sure what Aunt Martha was driving at either, Ginny wanted to ask what she meant. But Aunt Martha suddenly conjured a frilly black parasol and held it over her head, and announced, "It's getting hot and I should go indoors."

They walked back to the cottage slowly. No breeze disturbed the bees droning in the garden. The sun had washed the sky of its color so that when Ginny looked overhead she felt surrounded by light, and just a little disoriented.

"A good day to for a swim," Aunt Martha said. "Why don't you have Lotty pack you a picnic?"

This sounded the like the perfect plan. Ginny didn't want to be cooped up in the house - even for lunch.

"My dear, I want you to get this idea of weakness out of your head," Aunt Martha said as they came into the kitchen garden. She stopped and regarded Ginny seriously, the black parasol framing her face. "I remember the summer before you were to start Hogwarts and all Ron could talk about was Harry this and Harry that. You blushed every time his name was mentioned."

Ginny felt her insides squirm. What a besotted idiot she had been.

"Your brothers teased you about it - but you never denied it." Aunt Martha smiled. "I liked you for that. I thought it showed your Weasley spirit more than anything."

Startled at this praise, Ginny could only stare at her aunt.

"So when you turned up at my door, years later with this boy, I can tell you that my curiosity was piqued." Aunt Martha shook her head. "But you were never uncomfortable around him, never blushed around him. I thought maybe you weren't a Weasley after all."

Ginny frowned.

"But then I saw you blushing yesterday morning and it all made sense." Aunt Martha patted Ginny on the arm. "Sometimes you worry about people because you think they are weak, but other times you worry because they are so precious you can't bear to be without them. Think about where your Harry fits."

Aunt Martha continued on her stately way to the house.

"Draco Malfoy has a small Animagus!" the Jarvey suddenly piped.

Ginny laughed. Aunt Martha's talk today had made about that much sense.

*

The picnic basket slapped against the side of Ginny's leg as she walked along the edge of the forest to the river. She was glad for the shade, since it was quite warm. She wondered if they were loading the boats in the full sun and if Harry remembered to do the Umbra Charm. Out of habit she almost chided herself for thinking about Harry, and then she realized that this was allowed now. That thought stopped her in her tracks.

This really was real - this wasn't just a story she told herself - or a wish or a hope. This was real in a way that she never had thought possible.

She dropped the basket on the ground and took out her wand. "Expecto Patronum!" she cried. Sure enough, a unicorn trotted over the wide grassy path between the forest and the stone wall of the pasture. In the bright sunlight, her Patronus looked more white than silver. Then as it trotted toward the trees, it lit up the shady areas so brightly, that Ginny had to squint to see it properly.

"It was in you all along," Harry had said.

All along - something so beautiful.

Ginny hastily stowed her wand and then picked up the picnic basket. She was afraid to think suddenly.

Stop it - stop being afraid to think or afraid to feel! You're in Gryffindor! And Aunt Martha says you're a Weasley - whatever that means.

As she continued her walk to the river, she noticed that the cows were in this field today. Her eyes scanned the herd. Sure enough, there was that red one - watching her. Idiot cow, she thought.

Still Hathaway estates without that cow wouldn't be the same, Ginny realized. Even the quirky parts were growing on her. That thought brought her back to weaknesses and what Aunt Martha said about knowing the difference between loving and being in love.

Which one did she feel for Harry? She certainly fancied him. She certainly knew his weaknesses - and his strengths.

When she reached the river, she bent and put her hand in the water - it was deliciously cool. The pool was so still she could see her reflection and how her hair was untidy from the long walk. She must have looked like that when she took Harry that Easter egg from Mum - since she had just come from Quidditch practice. She hadn't been thinking about her hair then, she had been worried about Harry. Then she had felt so badly for him - she had even offered to help if it was a problem with Cho . . .

Ginny pulled the t-shirt off of her head and shrugged off her shorts. So this made her a first class idiot - didn't it? Even when she had given up on him noticing her, she had continued feeling something for him.

I liked you for that, Aunt Martha had said. I thought it showed your Weasley spirit more than anything.

Her underwear joined the pile of clothes on the bank and then she dove into the pool.

The cool water was a pleasant shock against her hot skin. She surfaced, looking up at the tree branches shading her pool. Is that what Weasleys are known for? she wondered. The balloon lady had said that Martha was bloody-minded about John and that no one else would do. Was that what Aunt Martha meant by being a Weasley? You were bloody-minded about love and not afraid to show it?

She treaded water with a force that mirrored the rate of her thoughts. But she dated Michael for a whole year - she had given up on Harry. She hadn't been bloody-minded about Harry at all.

Unless.

Unless she had loved him all along.

She dove and swam to the other side of the pool. The water rushed by her ears and pulled her hair away from her face. She loved the feeling of resistance and then the yielding as she pushed herself through the water.

Through the drops from her eyelashes she could see the steep muddy bank and the exposed roots of the willow tree. Then a new thought occurred to her. Aunt Martha remembered that she fancied Harry all those years ago - and then she was curious as to how they would get along when they showed up at her door. Did she put them in a single bed on purpose?

Ginny's feet hit the muddy bottom of the pool. How could she? That manipulative old woman! Was that bed some sort of character test? It would have served her right if she and Harry had . . .

Then she dove back into the water again. She wasn't going to think about that - because it was ridiculous. They were both upset and tired after their ordeal - even if they had been dating at the time - nothing would have happened.

Still, it was wrong of Aunt Martha to test them. Ginny was glad she hadn't realized this a week ago or she couldn't have been civil to her aunt at all. She slowed her strokes and turned onto her back. Then she thought about that kiss yesterday and how she had tested Harry - hadn't she pushed him into a certain kind of kiss - knowing she was pushing him?

Aunt Martha did have a plausible explanation, Ginny thought, as her anger cooled. Maybe she was jumping to conclusions. She was almost to the grassy bank where her clothes were, when she saw the red cow again. It was standing there watching her with an almost insolent stare.

For some reason, Ginny felt naked for the first time since she had started swimming in the pool. "Go away!" Ginny hissed, making sure only her head was above the water.

"Hera! Where are you? You old sack of potion scraps!"

Ginny eyes grew wide in terror as she realized that a strange wizard was going to discover her swimming in the nude. The cow seemed to understand this too - because it put one hoof on her pile of clothes.

Whether it was the frustration at seeing her clothes out of her reach, or the fear of being discovered, Ginny didn't know - all she knew is that she was so angry that when she thrust her hand up from the water to yell at the cow, a forceful jet of water followed. It hit the cow right between the eyes, so the animal had to stagger back to keep its balance. Ginny moved her hand slightly and the jet of water hit the cow's hindquarters.

After a few minutes, Ginny managed to chase it away. She waited a long time in the water to make the sure the cow or the wizard wouldn't return before she got out and dried herself on her favorite rock. Now she wasn't sure if she wanted to swim at the pool any more. She could swim in a costume, but that wouldn't be the same - she liked feeling the water all over her body. She sighed. Stupid cow.

*

"So then Hugh says, 'Those five kilo bags of potatoes weigh more than the five kilo bags of wool. I should get paid more for loading them,'" Harry said.

"Biggs didn't buy that did he?" Ginny scoffed. They were holding hands, walking towards the river, discussing their day apart.

Harry laughed. "He said, 'I'll give you fifty-eight Knuts per bag instead of two Sickles. How's that?' Hugh was so happy. 'Working man has to stand up for his rights,' he told all of us."

"A regular revolutionary," Ginny remarked, rolling her eyes. "It sounds like a boring day."

"Not really," he said. "I heard loads of new jokes - none that I can tell you - "

"Wait a minute - why can't I hear any of these jokes?"

"Because - " He looked trapped.

She sighed. "I've been shut out of jokes for as long as I can remember." Then she smiled. "I reckon you'll just have to make it up to me."

"Oh? How can I do that?" he asked, responding to her tone of voice.

"Guess."

The first kiss of the day has to be the best, Ginny thought dreamily. Unless it was the second or the third . . .

"Moo!"

The red cow was staring at them from behind the stone wall.

"That cow," Ginny exclaimed. "I hate it when they're in this pasture! It always follows me."

Harry laughed. "Maybe it likes you."

"Does it look like it likes me?" She crossed her arms in front of her and regarded the cow with a frown. The cow frowned back. Ginny shook her head. Cows didn't frown, did they?

"Come on," Harry said, putting a hand on her lower back. "Let's go down to the river."

"It followed me there today," she said, enjoying the warmth of his hand.

"So what? It's probably bored with all the other cows. It sees the same ones everyday."

"So what? One of the herdsmen could have seen me swimming," Ginny retorted.

"Why would that be a problem?" he asked.

"Because I was swimming starkers - that's why."

"Oh," he said in a thin voice.

Ginny continued on, "Then it put its hoof on my clothes! That is one weird cow."

Harry had removed his hand and was studying the ground as he walked. She thought she heard him say, "oven cleaner," but she wasn't sure.

"What are you doing?"

"Hmm?" He looked startled. "Just reciting the twelve uses of dragon's blood." He paused. "Backwards."

"Twelve uses of -" Then Ginny closed her mouth. She'd just realized what kind of mental picture she had given Harry. Surely he wasn't repulsed by that?

They walked in silence for a moment. Then Ginny considered the mental picture she would have of Harry swimming starkers in the river pool. She went as far as the beads of water trickling from his shoulders down his tanned back . . .

"Number twelve, oven cleaner," she muttered.

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