The First Annual Weasley Brothers’ Halloween Extravaganza! by DukeBrymin



Summary: Ginny hadn’t been enjoying the party. Neither had Harry. Maybe Batman can save the day.
Rating: PG starstarstarstarstar
Categories: Alternate Universe
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2011.12.28
Updated: 2012.01.11


Index

Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Chapter 2: Chapter 2


Chapter 1: Chapter 1

Author's Notes: Written for the Autumnfest challenge on LiveJournal. The requester wrote: I really enjoy get-them-together!fics, so perhaps something Post-Hogwarts AU (in that Harry and Ginny never got together during school)? Weasley antics! Hermione! And if Neville or Luna (or both) could be worked in there that would be awesome. Spotlights on friendships and close familial relationships would be more than welcome, as well.
Requested autumn/fall elements: Halloween parties, costumes, pumpkin carving, harvest festivals, sweaters, leaves.
I put this off, and put this off, and finally got into it, and it turned into something rather different than I’d expected. But I really enjoyed seeing where it went.


She was the most stunningly gorgeous Inferius Harry had ever seen. Not that he’d spent a lot of time rating the beauty of undead corpses. But this one, well, she just oozed beauty. She was, in a word, perfect.

He surreptitiously retreated back into the shadows. Moving slowly, he circled the room, watching out for the three or four amorous couples who had taken advantage of the shadows to become unwitting obstacles to his progress.

Finally he made it to the wall directly behind her. Surprisingly, from back there, he could also hear her voice. She didn’t sound very much like an Inferius, either. Which was good, Harry supposed, although if she were like the other girls he’d met, he probably wouldn’t be able to stand her personality long enough to get tired of her voice.

“Hey, Ginny!”

Apparently her name was Ginny, as she turned at hearing the shout from someone who had to be her brother--he was dressed as a vampire, but had brilliant red hair that matched hers.

The boy, or young man, or . . . whatever he was (vampires tend to look ageless, and this one had obviously gone for that same impression) stood there chatting for long enough that Harry grew impatient. Wishing he had the audacity to interrupt the siblings, he decided that at the very least, he could casually move closer.

oooooooooo

Ginny was bored. Sure, the Twins usually threw a great Halloween party--the puking pastilles were out in force, she noted--but the people in attendance were . . . were. . . Well, she wasn’t sure exactly how to describe them. They were certainly dancing and partying, but it felt a little off. The Twins themselves were acting absolutely barmy, so they were probably all right, but the rest. . . . Many were standing around in groups, drinking punch, and talking quietly. Some, she could see, were taking advantage of the dark corners. But wherever she happened to walk, the whispering quieted down, and she was . . . was looked at. She’d expected to be looked at--after all, she had gone to a lot of trouble with her costume. But they weren’t happily admiring the grubs in her hair. If she didn’t know better, she’d say they were afraid of her.

The few times she had tried to enter a conversation, the group she’d approached had gone silent almost immediately, and no-one had even responded to her with more than a stiff chuckle and an “I better go get some more punch. . .” Really, if this was what the Twins had meant by “this’ll be the most brilliant party ever, Gin! You can’t miss it!” then she was never going to anything planned by them again. Ever.

“Hey, Ginny!” Ron’s voice came across the room. Ginny smiled slightly. At least Ron could be counted on to talk to her. She looked past him and saw that he’d brought Lavender with him.

Ginny couldn’t help it--she sniggered at the costumes they were wearing. Obviously Lavender had decided that they should be a couple, and with Ron as a vampire, Lavender had chosen to be a maiden sacrifice. It had the obvious advantage of allowing her to dress as beautifully as she knew how, and only have to put fake bite marks on her neck. Although they might have practiced that part.

Thankfully Lavender peeled off from Ron to visit with her best Hogwarts friend, Parvati Thomas. Ginny didn’t mind Lavender, but everyone’s strange behavior tonight had put her into a mood, and Lavender would probably have gotten offended at some imagined slight, and then Ron would be upset. Maybe Lavender’s fascination with Divination had endowed her with at least a little bit of the Sight, and she had seen what would be the most likely ending for any prolonged Ginny/Lavender conversation, and decided to be tactful. Whatever the reason, Ginny was grateful to not have to make small talk.

Happy to finally be able to talk to someone, she didn’t even mind when Ron started talking about his relationship with Lavender, although she managed to head off his rhapsodizing about her lips by commenting that it looked like the nascent Quadpot league was off to a good start.

Ron was explaining, in detail, how Quadpot was an acceptable, though inferior, substitute, in spite of its humble beginnings as mere spectacle-for-the-masses, when a loud crash sounded from directly behind Ginny.

oooooooooo

Honestly, Harry only wanted to get a little closer to this Ginny and her brother. It wasn’t really his fault that there was a chair in the way, which he didn’t see. Nor did he see the poor girl who was using the chair at the time.

The clattering of the chair, and the affronted cries of the poor ghost, er, spook, um, banshee-girl, whom he had knocked over and fallen on, sounded unnaturally loud, due to that most amazing of all coincidences, the untimely break between songs at a dance, when no-one is talking, during which someone does something incredibly, and noisily, embarrassing.

Harry jumped to his feet, apologizing profusely, but even his bright green eyes failed to forestall the slap he received. Granted, his costume was hiding said eyes, but still!

“--and stay away from me, you stalker!” the girl finished yelling. With one last supercilious sniff, she flounced across the room, headed for the loo to fix any possible damage to her costume.

Harry was left by himself, with the eyes of most of the room pinning him to his spot. He could feel his cheeks turning bright red, and thanked his foresight in choosing a costume that hid most of his face from the others.

After some giggling and whispers from the rest of the room, most of the other party-goers resumed their interrupted conversations, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

A premature sigh, as it turned out.

oooooooooo

“Did you see that?” Ron asked. “That was one of the funniest. . . Ginny?”

The redhead in question had left Ron’s side, unnoticed, and was headed towards the poor young man who’d tripped over the ghoul-girl.

“Are you okay?” she asked, concern creasing her brow. “That was some fall, are you hurt?”

The young man jumped in surprise, then looked at her, but didn’t seem capable of speech. Or, Ginny thought, with a wry smile, maybe he was just stunned by her beauty. But since she was currently losing her left ear, or at least appeared to be, she figured that that wasn’t it.

“Are you bleeding?” she asked, wondering if he spoke English. The long pause after her question didn’t answer her question, or her wonderings. “Okay, then. Um, I guess I’ll go. . . well, look! There’s punch!”

As she turned away, she was startled to find he had taken hold of her arm. Gently, of course, but that was still rather forward for someone who hadn’t even had the courtesy to answer her questions. She turned back to him with the intent of loudly demanding her release, but when she saw him, the small smile on his face, contrary to what she had expected, calmed her down. Nevertheless, she glared at him until he started talking.

“I’m sorry, Miss Ginny. What I meant to say was that I was all right--no blood, and while I’ll probably get a bruise from the chair leg, it won’t be a problem.” He let go of her arm, and she felt relief from that, but also a curious prickling from her arm, where it seemed as though the fine hairs there were standing up and stretching, perhaps to get closer to his hand again.

“Wait,” Ginny said. “How do you know my name? Are you really some sort of stalker?” She tried to sound prim and proper, but the corner of her mouth betrayed her inner amusement.

“Oh, well, um. . . I don’t know about stalker, necessarily, but I was kind of. . . um. . . watching you for a bit. That’s kind of why I tripped over that . . . hag?”

“Oh, I don’t think she’d appreciate you calling her a hag, especially since, as everyone can plainly see, she’s dressed as a ghoul.”

The boy smiled, and Ginny couldn’t help but think it might have been his first real smile of the evening. “Oh, of course. How could I have mixed the two up?”

Ginny smiled a bit, but that died away as the boy watched her. She had been watched by boys before, certainly. Colin had always been a little too excited about taking pictures of her, until she put him in his place. And that Dean guy had tried to show her a drawing that he’d done of her. She’d hexed him, and set the drawing on fire--honestly, no-one needed to see her all sweaty and dirty after a Quidditch game. The Corner bloke had stared at her all night at the Yule Ball. Thankfully Neville had seen the problem, and, correctly interpreting Ginny’s body language, refused to let the other boy dance with her.

But this watching, well, this watching wasn’t causing centipedes up her spine. Or rather, it was, but the centipedes were dancing lightly in ballet slippers, rather than stomping around in dirty boots.

Either way, she wasn’t sure she liked it, or maybe it was that she wasn’t sure she was interpreting things correctly. “What are you looking at?” she asked, in as aggressive a tone as she could manage.

The boy grinned at her. “Well, the best-looking Inferius I’ve ever seen, for one.”

Ginny’s mouth dropped open. “Wha-- Oh.” She had honestly forgotten that she was in costume. Although she shouldn’t have--it’s not like this curiously impertinent, but very interesting, boy was wearing a normal suit of clothes. In fact. . . “What are you dressed as?”

The boy smiled again, even bigger this time, lighting up his face. “You can’t tell? I’m Batman!” he proudly proclaimed. To a totally silent room. Again.

Ginny’s giggle was the next thing heard, followed by what sounded like a whole stadium full of giggles, some of them surprisingly less-feminine than they perhaps should have been.

Thankfully, the music started up again, and the tittering and whispering of the audience were covered up by the muted wailings of the Banshee Boyz.

The bottom half of the boy’s face turned bright red, and Ginny couldn’t help breaking out into real laughter. Thankfully, the boy didn’t look too upset, although he seemed to be muttering imprecations beneath his breath.

Ginny finally calmed down, and reached out to touch his arm. “I’m sorry, really. I shouldn’t be laughing at you, but it was just. . . just . . .”

“So funny?” he asked, wryly.

“Yes, that. But also, you were so happy to be this . . . this Bat-person, or thing. But I have no idea who he is, and then the silence right when you said it. . .” Her voice trailed off at seeing his crestfallen expression--well, the bottom half of it.

“You mean you really don’t know who he is?” he asked incredulously.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t. Um, don’t take this the wrong way, but are you Muggle-born?” she asked. Seeing his expressive mouth (why am I focusing on his mouth?) start to frown, she hastened to add, “Not that it matters, but that might explain why I haven’t heard of this Batboy before. . . “

oooooooooo

Harry couldn’t help it. “Batboy?” he asked, then laughed out loud. “I’m sure the Caped Crusader would be less than pleased to hear himself being referred to like that. Batboy. Although, now that I think about it, it would have been a much more fitting name for his sidekick than Robin, right?” he asked Ginny.

Ginny just stood there, looking slightly perturbed at his laughing at her. “Well,” she finally said, “I’m sorry I don’t understand all there is to know about this. . . this. . . “

“Batman?” Harry suggested.

“Right. But you don’t have to laugh at me about it!”

“Ginny, Ginny! I’m sorry, all right? It’s not you, really. It’s just, well, it’s just funny that I managed to pick a costume that no-one will recognize. Kind of a first for me, really,” he continued, “but it’s nice. And, yes, I was--well, not really Muggleborn, but raised by wizards who really like Muggle television, so kind of the same thing.” He took a chance and motioned towards a group of chairs that seemed to be unoccupied. “Would you like to sit for awhile? This hasn’t really been a lot of fun--”

“What!?” she exclaimed. “Are you calling me boring?”

“No!” Harry answered. “No, nothing bad about you. I just, well, Fred and George told me I absolutely had to come, that it’d be the best party ever! But it was certainly turning into a rather depressing affair until I, um, found you. . .”

His shy smile was what really did it for her. Of course, it’s not like she could see anything else--although there was an intriguing hint of green through the eyeholes in his mask. But something about him just kind of . . . called out to her, or, she didn’t want to be too soppily romantic, but he felt. . . familiar for some reason, as if she had, and she actually cringed at thinking it, known him before.

He noticed the cringe, unfortunately. The previously-uplifted corners of his mouth straightened out, and his shoulders slumped. “I’m sorry, um. I thought. . . .well, never mind.” He turned away, thinking that, of course this wouldn’t have worked out for him--nothing else ever had. But his thoughts were interrupted by a firm (though small and warm) hand on his shoulder, which turned him around rather forcefully.

As he was turned to face the Inferius, he was caught by the intense look in her eyes.

No matter how much he wanted to, he couldn’t look away from her. Until there was an ear-piercing blast on what looked like the horn of a rhinoceros, although the deep creases, folds, and wrinkles in the horn made it rather evident that it wasn’t any sort of normal horn.

Harry and Ginny both turned to see what was going on. On the stage, which Harry hadn’t noticed before, were Fred and George. George was holding the horn, and Fred was motioning for everyone to come in closer.

“All right all you ghouls, ghosties, and goblins, gather round!” Fred yelled. “No hiding there in the back, Batman!”

Harry turned to smirk at Ginny--at least there was someone there who recognized his costume. But she was still facing the stage with a questioning look on her face so Harry turned back to see what the twins had planned.

“First of all,” Fred announced, “we’re glad you all could make it to the First Annual Weasley Brothers’ Halloween Extravaganza!”

George stepped forward and blew on the horn again, and most of the audience applauded.

“Thank you, thank you very much. Moving on, we hope you’ve been enjoying your time here--I see from the state of the refreshment table that even if nobody’s been dancing, you’ve at least salvaged the night by eating.”

This brought another round of applause and laughter--mostly because Ron was standing by the aforementioned table, with his mouth half-full of beignet.

“And for those of you who’ve been enjoying the punch, I promise you’ll lose the furry and floppy ears by midnight!”

Fred’s announcement also brought a round of applause.

“Now,” continued Fred, as George put down the horn and started marking out lines on the stage. “We figured that any Halloween contest worth its salt has a costume contest. However, this year, to celebrate our freedom from old Tommy-boy Riddle--” a rather enthusiastic “Woohoo!” interrupted him, but he just smiled and carried on. “Yes, as I was saying, for our costume contest tonight, we have something special.”

Murmurs ran through the crowd, and although Harry and Ginny were standing too far away to hear what the murmurers were saying, Harry had a bad feeling about this. Fred and George had made a point of insisting he come, and now, with their comments about the end of the war, and how they should celebrate, he was starting to think that his presence there might not go as unnoticed as he’d hoped.

“That’s right! Or rather, some of you might be right! On a completely unrelated matter, have you noticed how many people here are wearing our insanely popular Harry Potter Disguise Kit (on sale now through the end of November for half-price)?”

The crowd starting turning to each other, and scanning for the tell-tale messy hair and black glasses that were de rigueur for the conscientious Harry-Potter-imitator.

“Now, if my amazingly handsome and available twin has counted correctly, we have at least seven Harry Potters here tonight!” George took the opportunity to conjure up and throw a squishy purple dinosaur at Fred, who ducked (on general principles), and let the toy hit, as luck would have it, the ghoul whom Harry had tripped over.

“Right!” George took over. “So, let’s get all the Harry Potters up here on stage, shall we? Come on, now, don’t be shy. You all look great, so don’t be afraid to come up and show us how Harry Potter you really are!”

It turned out there were really nine people dressed as Harry Potter there, including, Harry saw, two females.

“Any more out there?” called George, shading his eyes with his hand to look over the crowd. “Any really short ones, hiding behind you half-giants out there?”

Harry slowly shifted so he was standing behind Ginny, although he wasn’t sure that was going to be a good enough hiding place, as he was about 4 inches taller than she.

Fred got into the act now. “Are you absolutely sure there’re no more Harrys?”

An Irish voice from the side called out, “Oi, I’m hairy, but I’m not standing up there!”

“That’s all right, Seamus!” George replied. “That caveman outfit is already showing us too much hair!”

His date flushed bright red at all the attention, but the bloke named Seamus laughed good-naturedly.

The twins spent a few more moments scanning the crowd to see if there were any other contestants to rope into the contest, but soon gave up and got the contest started.

Harry couldn’t remember when he’d felt so uncomfortable. He’d thought, for a moment, that Fred or George were going to call him up on stage. He certainly hadn’t planned on doing anything like that when he agreed to come to the party. They’d promised him, crossing hearts and hoping to die, that they wouldn’t tell anyone who he was, but Harry wouldn’t have put it past them to decide that the joke was worth the inevitable fight that would ensue.

And, while it was true that they hadn’t broken their promises (for which he was eternally grateful), he still couldn’t imagine standing there watching while nine people competed to be the most like him. And the applause that the two girls had gotten, and the wolf-whistles, and the hubba-hubbas were, quite frankly, even more disturbing than having been called on stage would have been. Harry had a rather quick and nausea-inducing image of himself kissing one of the female copies of him, and decided that he couldn’t take it any more.

He backed away from Ginny and turned to find the closest door. Luckily, there was one right behind him, and he headed to it in what he would have described as a dignified walk. The walk seemed to take forever, and Harry wasn’t sure he’d be able to make it without throwing up. Every step he expected to hear the Twins castigate him for daring to leave. Arriving at the door was one of the most incredible feelings--he’d escaped!

The door was locked.

He rattled the door, hoping that it was just stuck and that he’d be able to shake it loose. All he accomplished was some rather loud sounds, drawing more imagined attention. He rattled some more, and tried turning the knob even harder, but even his hardest efforts didn’t seem to make any difference.

He was just about to give up and attempt to walk over to the other door, in spite of its being on the other side of the room, thereby ensuring that everyone in the room would see him, when a quiet voice sounded behind him.

“Alohomora.”

The latch clicked, and Harry’s hand, seemingly of its own accord, turned the knob easily and pushed it open. He turned to see who his savior was, but Ginny just pushed him slightly and said, “If you plan on leaving, you should do it now; Fred and George aren’t going to be this oblivious forever.”

Up on the stage, however, Fred and George knew exactly what was happening. One of them always had an eye towards the back of the room where Harry had taken up residence. When Ginny followed him to the door, the twins quickly glanced at each other, exchanged a small smile, and returned to the Harry Potter Look-Alike Contest.

“I can’t believe I forgot Alohomora!” Harry was saying as they walked through the hall towards the outdoors. “It’s, it’s a child’s spell! Everyone knows it! I’m such a moron!”

Ginny chuckled a bit. “You’re not a moron, all right? It happens to the best of us--we forget something silly, and our friends help us out.”

Harry stopped. “Um, friends?”

Ginny blushed. “Well, I just assumed. I mean, I followed you out of Fred’s and George’s First Annual Weasley Brothers’ Halloween Extravaganza, after all. I wouldn’t ditch my brothers for just anybody, you know.”

Harry smacked his forehead with his hand. “They’re your brothers? Why didn’t I guess that? I mean, I figured that Ron bloke was a brother, but I’m pretty blind to not put two and two together and guess you both were related to Fred and George. They told me they had a sister and a few more brothers--I guess I’m just not thinking too straight tonight.”

Ginny laughed at him, but it was a kind, friendly laugh. It encouraged him to be a little bolder than he was used to.

He smiled at her, and said, “Well, I’d really like to be your friend, Miss Ginny. Would that be acceptable to you?”

Ginny rolled her eyes, and tugged on Harry’s arm. “Well, I don’t know. I only have a limited number of friend slots that I can use, and if I add you, then I’d have to bump Lavender, and Ron would be so upset!”

Harry’s smile died, and Ginny huffed. “You really are an idiot, aren’t you? I’m teasing you!”

Harry’s smile came back. “I’m so glad, thank you. I don’t have that many friends, and I could definitely use an Inferius as one of them.”

“How would you use me?” Ginny asked, then blushed as she realized what she’d said. “Not, mind you, that I think you’re really into Inferi, right?”

Harry was surprised that she didn’t make a bigger fuss about her unintentional flirting--in his experience, any girl that talked with him turned into some sort of brazen hussy. Ginny was rather refreshing in that she didn’t seem to be even slightly bothered that he was. . . Oh. She didn’t know who he was.

“Excuse me?” she said. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, sure. Why?”

“You just seemed to kind of, I don’t know, go into some trance or something. And your mouth got very sad.”

“My mouth?” he asked, not believing what he was hearing.

“Well, yeah--it’s about the only part of your face I can see. Well, okay, your shoulders kind of slumped too.”

“Oh, well. You see, I was just thinking how fun it’s been to talk with you, and then I remembered that I hadn’t even told you my name or anything. But I’m kind of afraid to, you know--what if you don’t like who I really am under my Batman outfit?”

Ginny laughed. “I’ll have you know,” she said, after she calmed down. “I’m a pretty good judge of character, and I think you’re a pretty decent guy.”

“But you don’t know anything about me! How could you think I’m any sort of guy?”

They had to interrupt their conversation, as they’d reached the outer doors of the building. He opened one and held it for Ginny as she came out.

“Wow, it’s gotten a lot colder, hasn’t it?” she said, as her breath frosted out in the evening air.

Harry pulled his wand and did a couple of quick Warming charms.

Ginny thanked him, but couldn’t resist adding, “I’m glad you remembered how to do those--I’d hate to have to teach you another first-year spell.”

Harry blushed slightly, but didn’t dispute the fact. “Well, I thought your costume, while being very authentic, let me add, looked a little too cold for comfort.”

Ginny smiled mischievously at him. “Want to know a secret?”

Harry nodded, and she continued. “I’ve actually got a rather nice jumper under the costume--it’s disillusioned so as not to be too obvious, but Mum wouldn’t let me come out without making sure I was all bundled up. You know how it is, right?”

She couldn’t miss the sadness in the set of his jaw, and how quiet he’d become.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean anything by it. Are you okay?” she asked, hoping she hadn’t opened too large of a wound.

Harry looked down for a bit, making sure he could talk without betraying too much emotion. Finally he looked back up into her concerned eyes. “Yeah, I’m all right. It’s just, well, my parents died when I was very young. I was raised by my godfather and uncle--well, I call him my uncle, but he’s really just a good friend of my dad and godfather.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know! Well, of course I didn’t know. But if I had I certainly wouldn’t have said anything so insensitive! You must think I’m the most brainless--”

Her rambling apology was abruptly cut off when Harry gently placed a hand over her mouth. “Ginny, stop it. There was no way, well, almost no way you could have known. I promise I didn’t take offense, okay?”

She nodded her head.

“And if I take my hand away, will you stop trying to apologize?”

She cocked her head to the side and thought, then slowly nodded again.

“Okay, here goes. . .”

“I know I promised not to--”

Same hand, same mouth.

“Do I need to flaunt my awesome knowledge of spells by casting Silencio on you?”

She shook her head.

“All right, one last chance,” and he took his hand away.

“I’m sorry!” she blurted out. Then rushed ahead with, “I’m not apologizing for bringing up my family when you obviously had a less-than-wonderful upbringing. But I’m sorry for . . . “

“What, Ginny? What are you sorry for?” Harry asked when she didn’t continue.

“Um, I’m not sure?” It was definitely a question, not a statement.

“Then don’t apologize, okay?”

She nodded in agreement, and they started walking again.

The walkway was lined with some very large trees, the kind that you’d expect to see a huge tree-mansion in, or maybe be inhabited by dryads. The important thing about them right now was that there were drifts of leaves lining the walkway also. Ginny veered away from Harry to scuffle through the leaves, and he had to chuckle seeing how much delight she got out of crunching them under her feet.

Ginny noticed his amusement. “It’s one of my favorite times of year, autumn. Although I guess we’re getting close to winter now. But the Burrow, that’s my home, is surrounded by trees, and we’d all go out and play in them. You know, have leaf wars, and make huge piles and jump into them. Although that kind of stopped when Fred and George started putting spells on the piles--they’d turn into huge leaf monsters and start chasing anyone who dared disturb them. Mum yelled at them a bunch for that, but we’ve never really gotten back into the habit.”

“I can certainly imagine the twins’ doing that,” Harry commented, thinking that it would be a lot of fun to jump into leaf piles with Ginny.

“Oh, yeah. I was going to ask you--where do you know the twins from?” Ginny inquired.

Harry shrugged one shoulder uncomfortably. “Well, it’s just. . . I’ve been in their store an awful lot, that’s all.”

Ginny stared at him, unconvinced. “Really,” she commented. “Fine, be the man of mystery--I’m not going to badger you into telling me if you don’t want to. I’m not Hermione,” she commented quietly.

“Hermione? Hermione Granger?” Harry asked.

“Yeah, that’s the one--wait how do you know her?” Ginny was starting to feel an odd sort of deja vu with this mystery man--the fact that he knew the twins, and obviously as more than just acquaintances, and now his reaction to Hermione’s name. There had to be some sort of connection, if she could just suss it out.

Harry sighed. “Okay, well, I guess I kind of know the Twins better than just through their shop.” He stopped talking and looked at Ginny. “Come on, it’s getting colder.”

“I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on. It’s too much of a coincidence.” Ginny illustrated her stance by stamping her foot, which immediately made her feel rather silly. It didn’t help that her companion laughed at the childish defiant gesture.

“I promise I’ll tell you, okay? It’s just that I don’t have any warm Molly Weasley jumpers to wear.”

Harry’s face, if it could be seen, would have frightened Ginny with how white it had gotten. Oh blast! he thought to himself. Now he’d really done it.

Ginny’s wand was out and pointing at him. “What are you? Some kind of Weasley stalker? You are! You’ve been stalking me all night, and now I find out it’s not just me! I have half a mind to--Give me back my wand, you. . . you. . . git!”

Harry took a chance and followed through on his threat to silence her. After which he also cast a modified shield charm around her, which impeded her rather furious and dangerous fists--while she could move her hands through the shield, it had to be at a slower pace, and Harry could easily counter her moves. “Ginny!” he commanded. “Stop! Okay? Just stop! I promise I’ll tell you everything. Whatever you want to know, just. . . just calm down, all right?”

Harry hadn’t ever been trained to read lips, but it wasn’t really necessary to know that she was (with 90-percent probability) casting aspersions on his character, history, predilections, and most likely his dancing ability, although he wasn’t as sure on that last one.

Figuring that he’d better start talking, he turned back towards the party and started walking, slowly, and talking, softly.

Ginny stood there for a moment, stunned at the audacity of this irritating, yet very charming man, then followed.

“I met Fred and George when they were making weapons for our side. You knew they did that, didn’t you?”

She shook her head.

“Okay, well, um. . . You’ve seen what they can do for pranking, right? Well, we needed some specialized equipment to help immobilize the Death Eaters. The Muggles have this amazing invention called Silly String--I showed it to George one day, and within a week they had a magically-enhanced version that completely incapacitated whomever it touched. It’s hard to be a Death Eater when you can’t move, and your victims could fight back.

“That wasn’t the only thing--their Skiving Snackboxes even came in rather handy. We had some of the house elves on our side, you see, and they could spike the DEs food with some of the more. . . annoying. . . of those. Imagine having eaten a Nosebleed Nougat, but you don’t have the antidote available.”

Harry could see she was listening very intently, but there was still a fire in her eyes that convinced him to not relax the spells he’d put on her.

“Their invisibility products--the No-See-Ems? Well, the ones they sell are about as effective as a Disillusionment charm. But they have an entirely separate line that works almost as well as one of the old invisibility cloaks. They even added some light-weight wards and shields to them. And they didn’t restrict themselves to cloaks, or hats. By the end of the war they were creating full-body uniforms, so we were almost completely protected from minor hexes. The invisibility field extended out a few inches to cover hands and wands.” Harry laughed a bit. “They even made invisibility bracelets that would fit on an owl’s leg and render the owl undetectable. My owl, Hedwig--she’s so smart that she’s rarely seen anyway, but this way I could still use her, even though she’s very recognizable.”

Harry’s attention was drawn to Ginny, who was frantically trying to say something to him, and motioning repeatedly, and increasingly rudely, for him to un-Silence her.

“Are you sure you won’t hit me, or curse me or something?” Harry asked.

She nodded emphatically.

“Okay. Finite Incantatem!”

“I think I’ve seen your owl! She’s a beautiful snowy owl, isn’t she? Only, she came to the Burrow a couple of times--I never would have seen her had I not peeked in the Twins’ room once when she was there. She’s beautiful!”

Harry just about melted right there, in spite of the coldness of the evening. Complimenting his owl was one of the quick ways to his. . . well, if not his heart, then at least something close to that.

Harry looked down shyly. “If you want, I could maybe make sure you see her more often.”

Ginny stared at him. “What? What would you. . . .“ Her voice trailed off as she quickly thought up and discarded half a dozen ways he could do what he’d said, and arrived at only one real possibility. She stopped, and stopped him too. “Yes, I think I’d like to give her some work to do. Just make sure you don’t write so much that she can’t carry it safely.”

Harry’s head had snapped up quickly when she’d said “Yes”. And the thought that this wonderful, warm, witty woman was willing to let him write to her made him warm all over.

Ginny could see the change in his demeanor. It puzzled her a bit--how could such an obviously wonderful person not be able to have as many friends as he wanted? She filed that away as something to ask later.

“So, yeah. I know Fred and George because they helped in the war, but I didn’t have the chance to meet the rest of the family.” He thought for a second, then laughed. “Well, that much is pretty obvious, isn’t it? Since I never met you before. I think I would have remembered a beautiful red-headed girl.”

Ginny felt a little warmth in her cheeks--He thinks I’m beautiful!! “So, how do you know Hermione?”

“I don’t really know her--” He opened the door for her. “But Fred talked about her a lot back when we were working together.”

Ginny was shocked. “You’re kidding!”

“No, really. He used to go on and on about her,” Harry responded.

“When was this--do you remember?” Ginny asked impatiently.

“Oh, um, about a year and a half ago, I think? But don’t hold me to that; I didn’t exactly write it down.”

Ginny burst out laughing. “That’s just. . . just great! Perfect blackmail material!”

Harry looked confused, and they stopped walking for a moment.

Ginny took pity on him. “Well, you see, a year and a half ago Hermione was dating Ron. He’s the one that was talking to me when you had your, um, ghoulish encounter. They had fought through most of their Hogwarts years, and we all thought it was a sign of their mutual attraction. They finally decided to try dating, and lasted for a couple of months before they realized that the only difference dating made was that their fights got even sharper. You know, more personal.”

Harry nodded a bit, finally starting to see what she was talking about. “So, Fred had been--” he gave a quick smile, “--stalking her while she was still going out with Ron? That must have been frustrating for him.”

“Exactly--I mean, the rules for dating friends’ exes are strict enough, but dating a brother’s ex? They weren’t too happy with each other for awhile--you know, after Hermione and Ron broke up and she started hanging around Fred more. Ron was kind of jealous, even though he knew that Hermione wasn’t the right girl for him.” She thought for a bit, then said, “The get along much better now--maybe Ron really is growing up.”

They had walked almost all the way back to the party, but stopped before going through the door. Ginny placed a hand on his arm so he would look at her. “Well, kind sir, you’ve done a good job convincing me you’re not a Weasley stalker. You know too much to have just found things out from watching us.”

Harry gave an exaggerated sigh of relief and mimed wiping sweat off his brow.

“So,” Ginny continued, “would you like to go in and dance?”

Harry hesitated a bit, then said, “Can we just walk for a little bit longer?” Seeing Ginny’s questioning look, he said, “It’s just so loud in there, it’s hard to hear each other.”

Ginny nodded, and they walked on past the door. After a few moments of silence, Ginny said, “So, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not sure I believe you.”

Harry looked at her in surprise.

“That came out kind of wrong,” she apologized. “I’m not calling you a liar, or anything, but you seemed a little bit too anxious to get away from the Harry Potter Look-A-Like contest. And yeah, the music’s loud, but we didn’t have any problems before. Anything you want to talk about? Were you upset that you hadn’t dressed like Harry Potter? Or was it the two girls up there that bothered you?”

Harry became very interested in the floor around his shoes while he thought about what he was about to do, and whether he could get out of the implied obligation. Finally he decided to just trust his feelings.

“Ginny, do you know who I am?” he asked softly.

Ginny opened her mouth to answer quickly, but then closed it. She looked closely at the guy who had effortlessly captured her attention. What, really, did she know about him? Name? No. Eyes? Sparkling, but what color? Hair? Possibly none. Height? Probably around 5 feet 9 inches, although the costume could be hiding something. Scars? None visible. And yet. . . Kind? Yes. Voice? Soft, friendly. Hands? Gentle, though strong. Marital status? She took a quick look at his left hand. Unmarried, or not wearing his ring. Smell? Nothing unpleasant, that’s for sure.

It all added up to. . .

“Yes”.

Harry was shocked. How had she discovered his identity so quickly? And why was she not turning into a rabid fan? “But. . . how did you? I never told you my name!!”

It was Ginny’s turn to put her hand over his mouth. “Shh, okay? Let me explain.”

Harry nodded his head, and Ginny removed her hand. “No, you haven’t told me your name. But that doesn’t really mean anything--well, it means something, but it’s not the most important part of you. I know you’re kind, and thoughtful. Chivalrous and rather considerate. Devilishly handsome in your Batboy costume--are those your real muscles?”

Silence.

Harry hadn’t heard anything past “not the most important part of you.” Was it really true? Was he more than just Harry Potter, the Vanquisher of Voldemort? Sirius and Remus had tried to explain this to him, he now realized, but he’d never really been confronted with the actuality of it. And the luck of having it happen here, now, with Ginny, was somewhat astounding.

Harry was brought out of his reverie (again) by a small, warm hand lifting his chin. “Are you in there? You just kind of blanked out. Are you all right?”

Harry smiled. “More than I can tell you. Thank you.”

Ginny smiled back. “My pleasure, kind sir. But, if we’re to keep our friendship progressing, wouldn’t it be a good idea for me to know your name? Otherwise I’d have to address my owl post to handsome bloke who dressed as Batboy for Halloween.” Harry murmured a soft “Batman”, but Ginny ignored him and continued. “Besides, you already know my name, and probably all about me from the twins. So, what do your few other friends call you?”

Harry laughed. “Okay, fine. I’ll tell you.” He reached back and unzipped something on his costume, detaching the mask and headpiece. As he lifted it off, he looked her in the eyes and said, “I’m Harry Potter.”

Back to index


Chapter 2: Chapter 2

The party was going very well, Hermione saw. George was making sure all the drinks were spiked, and Fred was explaining, in no doubt exhaustive detail, why he had dressed up as a clown. Hermione wished she could be there for that discussion--clowns being relatively unknown in the magical world. But she’d get the full story later, no doubt, when Fred escorted her home that night.

Ron and Lavender were dancing, although it seemed like he hadn’t picked up any more dance steps than he’d had when she and he had danced. She winced slightly as he trod very heavily on Lavender’s foot. But Lavender didn’t even flinch--she was probably using the protection charm Hermione had given her. Lavender wasn’t nearly as dumb as people expected.

“Hey, Hermione!” It was Neville, following, as usual, Luna’s path through the middle of the dance floor.

Hermione smiled at the couple. Neville and she had become fast friends from the very start, and she was happier than she could express that he’d been able to find the perfect girl to date. She wondered if they had ever talked about marriage; Neville’s gran was rather strict regarding proper courting etiquette, and, while Neville had grown out of his seemingly perpetual stumblings, stammerings, and meekness, he still hadn’t, as far as she knew, directly opposed Augusta in anything.

Right now it looked like Luna was in the mood to dance, as she was swaying slightly next to Hermione. Neville saw it too, and gently led her towards the other couples--not too close to anyone else, he’d figured that out long ago, when he had taken Luna to the Yule Ball during his fifth year. Here, with the guest list that Fred and George had selected, there probably wasn’t anyone who’d take exception to Luna’s more creative dance moves. But it paid to be on the alert anyway.

Hermione enjoyed reminiscing as she walked around the outside of the dancers, enjoying the atmosphere of happiness and freedom, so different from the years of the war. Thankfully she hadn’t had to fight too much, and hopefully she wouldn’t ever need to defend herself like that. She took a moment to send a silent prayer of gratitude to Harry Potter, wherever he was.

As she crossed the back of the hall, two arms came out of the darkness and wrapped around her. She squeaked, but almost immediately recognized Fred’s familiar scent. She leaned back and laid her arms on top of his.

“Are you trying to scare me, Frederick Gideon Weasley?” she asked, but there was no bite in it. One of the things she liked most about her Weasley was that he had taught her to relax. She had long ago figured out that she had a very strong perfectionist streak in her. Granted, it helped her get great marks in school, but it also caused her to worry about things she couldn’t change. Fred had blown into her life and turned her upside down. Of course, she had known him for quite some time before that had happened, but happen it did, and she could see the improvement in herself.

Fred squeezed her a little tighter and whispered in her ear, “Of course not, my dearest Hermione. I would never, ever, in a million years try to scare you.”

Hermione scoffed, but before she could put her disbelief into words, he kissed her cheek and said, “Accidentally scare you, certainly. And I solemnly swear that I would never take advantage of your rather well-developed startle response.”

Her second scoff was rather soft, and turned, halfway through, into a sigh as he kissed her neck, right below her ear.

After a suitable time of gently swaying to the music, Fred put on a serious face--well, as serious as he could, which wasn’t very. “We should probably get the gang together. George set up the thingy to play at least four songs in a row, so all Lee has to do is start it once the Harry Potter Look-Alike contest is over. We should be able to get our business done before we’re missed.”

Thingy? Fred, how many times have I told you, it’s a record player!” Hermione just couldn’t believe he’d forgotten the name of it--she’d told him, and told him, and told him--and then she recognized the glint in his eye. “You git,” she said, and softly slapped his arm. “You know exactly what it’s called!” She shook her head and backed up a bit so she could look at him properly. “All right, I’ll go grab Neville and Luna. Where are we meeting?”

“Just outside this door, to the right, is a classroom, or coat closet, or something. Either way, it’ll give us a good place to talk.” He looked a question at her, and she nodded her understanding. “Okay then, I’ll get Won-Won and Lavender. Five minutes?”

She gave him a quick good-bye kiss in response, and headed off at an angle to where Neville and Luna were discussing the refreshments.

“Luna, honey, I just don’t think it’s a good idea to drink anything at a party given by the Twins!” Neville was trying his best to persuade his girlfriend not to chance being turned into a bunny, or whatever George had slipped into the bowl. Last time it had taken him an hour and a half to get the fur out of his. . . well, out of himself, when he had turned into a panda.

Luna just smiled mysteriously, took one of the cups, and drank it. “Neville, dearest, thank you for taking such good care of me.” She lowered her voice and looked around to make sure she wasn’t in danger of being overheard. “What you didn’t notice, though, is that I’ve added a sprig of oregano to the necklace.” She nodded her head, as if she’d made a perfectly reasonable explanation, and drank the rest of the punch down in one go.

“Hey, Neville, Luna. Are you having fun?” Hermione asked as she reached them.

Luna nodded enthusiastically, and said, “The oregano helps!”

Hermione blinked, then smiled. “I’m glad, Luna. I assume you’ve been able to work out the correct spacings?”

Luna shook her head. “Well, yeah, almost. It’s not perfect yet, but it’s better than it was. I only had one side-effect this time.” She turned to Neville. “You’re right, Neville. I shouldn’t have drunk that--the fluffy tail is rather uncomfortable, what with the knickers I’m wearing. But I had to test it.”

Neville looked like he was trying his hardest to not think about fluffy tail, and seized upon Hermione’s presence to distract himself. “Is it time, Hermione?” he asked, and nobody would have noticed anything amiss, except that his voice broke half-way through her name.

Hermione stifled a giggle, and nodded. “Yes, Fred’s gone for Ron and Lavender, so we should get going.”

Luna nodded, and strode off across the floor, right through the middle of the dancers, who moved out of the way for her, then back into place without any complaint. Neville and Hermione chose the longer way, which gave Neville the opportunity to hiss, “Hermione, how do you know about the spacing? I never know enough to ask about things like that!”

Hermione shook her head. “Neville, I don’t know anything about spacing for oregano on any type of item other than a garnish for Cornish game hens. But I finally decided that I’d just try my best to participate with her in whatever she’s doing. She’s one of my closest friends, and I wanted to make her happy. So what if I don’t understand everything she says? I like talking with her, and that’s just another part of her that makes her totally Luna.”

Neville stopped, shocked. “You just made up a question that might fit into her idea?” Hermione nodded, and Neville gaped. “I never thought to do that--I’ve been trying really hard to understand her, and it just makes me so tired. . . Do you. . .” Strong, talented, confident Neville disappeared. “Do you mind if I do the same thing?” he asked, shyly.

“Of course not, Neville. I can see how much you love Luna, and I’ll do whatever I can do to help out in your relationship. And,” she whispered, “I think she probably knows that I’m not totally sure of what we’re talking about. But she’s never seemed to mind, and always smiles just that little bit more when I’m not trying to argue and analyze everything.”

Neville was silent for a bit. Then he shook his head. “Brilliant! Just brilliant! Thanks, Hermione!” He hugged his friend, and they resumed their trek.

Ron didn’t like dancing. Never had. But he’d learned to just go with it whenever Lavender wanted to. It worked out all right--he had to be out there making a fool of himself for part of the time, but the rest of the time he got to hold her close to him, and just rock back and forth, and that was not something to be lightly dismissed. And it was even better after she invented the toe protection charm. He smiled slightly, thinking about his brilliant girlfriend. She was just as smart as Hermione, she just didn’t worry about being first in class. And she was certainly beautiful--half the guys at school had wanted to date her, but she’d chosen him! All in all, he felt pretty much invincible, which is just what a girl should do for her guy. In fact, in Ron’s heart of hearts, he’d been thinking about perhaps making their relationship a little more formal; perhaps a promise ring.

Lavender smiled to herself. Ron had turned out to be a good fixer-upper project. Thank goodness he and Hermione had managed to date a little bit. It served to bury any ideas anyone at Hogwarts had harbored about their suitability for each other. And with Hermione out of the way, Lavender had her chance. And this way she could move in without causing friction with her dorm-mate. Lavender and Hermione had, surprisingly, ended up being good friends (and her poor toes thanked her every day for that). And with some sage counsel, they were able to put together a long, long, long-term plan for helping Ron become who he could be. Dancing was just one of the areas where she’d helped him. He’d also learned (finally) about holding doors for her, and paying attention to her, even when there was a Quidditch match being played. She sighed a bit, thinking about his eating manners, but then she’d only had him for a couple of years, there was still time.

“Hey, Won-Won!” came a most unwelcome intrusion.

Honestly, why couldn’t they give up on that stupid nickname? She’d only called him that once, before realizing how stupid it sounded. Unfortunately, George had been within earshot, and that was that. “What do you want, Fred? In case you hadn’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a dance.”

“Surprisingly, Lav, I knew that. The music was a dead giveaway. But that’s okay, you two go ahead and keep dancing--I’m sure Hermione will fill you in on the details later. Bye now!” Fred walked off the dance floor, heading towards the back door.

Ron pulled Lavender back towards him, and started rocking back and forth again.

Lavender smacked his arm. “Ron! Didn’t you hear your brother?”

Ron looked confused. “Yeah, he said we could keep dancing. Don’t you want to?”

“Of course, Ron. But for right now, I think we better follow Fred. If they’re having a meeting, then we should probably be there.”

Ron reluctantly followed Lavender, moping a bit because she had refused to let him run and get some crisps to tide him over.

George was the last one into the room. After he entered, Hermione sealed the door and performed the anti-listening charms.

Surprisingly, it was Luna who spoke up first. “Did anyone see Ginny leave? I was watching her there, but after you announced the Harry Potter Look-a-Like contest, I lost her.”

Ron goggled.

Neville looked surprised.

Lavender smiled and answered. “I think she left with that one guy--what was he, Hermione?”

“Batman, Lavender. And I think you’re right. I haven’t seen him for awhile either. Can anyone else corroborate?”

Ron looked confused, but Lavender whispered into his ear, “That means, can anyone confirm what they said.”

“Oh, um. I didn’t notice, guys. Sorry.” Ron looked a little sheepish, but no-one really expected anything else, what with a fully-stocked refreshment table and a gorgeous girlfriend.

Fred took up the gavel, figuratively speaking. “Okay, so we think Ginny and Har . . . he, the Batman, went out together, right?” Everyone nodded, and he continued. “That’s good. He was the one we were hoping to introduce Ginny to, so if they’ve wandered off together, then that’s at least one major part of our plan that’s working out.”

“You know him? Who was it, Fred?” Neville asked.

“Well, we don’t really want to say right now,” answered George. “If it works out for them, then you’ll know pretty soon. But if it doesn’t, it wouldn’t be very nice for him.”

“Or Ginny, for that matter,” continued Fred. “Although, I can’t see it not working out--I mean, she’s practically marr--”

“Shut up, Fred!” yelled George. “Just go ahead and tell them who it is, why don’t you? Hermione’s too smart to not figure it out--you’re dating her, you should know!”

Unfortunately, Hermione really was that smart, at least in theorizing from scant data, and with George’s assertion, she figured it out. But, also being somewhat smarter than the twins with regards to common sense, she didn’t blurt it out. She did, however, grab her boyfriend by the ear and drag him off to a corner to have a furious discussion with him.

The rest of the conspirators didn’t hear very much. There was an occasional “Ouch!”, and they distinctly heard Hermione’s “How do you know him?” But really, it wasn’t much to go on. Finally the couple came out of the corner, Fred rubbing his earlobe, and Hermione looking like the pygmy puff that ate the snidget. Hermione sat down, and Fred stood behind her.

George looked over at Fred, and they had a silent conversation, conducted via shrugs, nods, and the mouthing of words. Finally, George broke the silence. “What Ginny doesn’t know is that we planted one half of our Portable Extendable Ears on her.”

“What?” shrieked Lavender. “You’re planning on listening in on their conversation? That’s just--”

“Brilliant!” Ron added, although he cowered back when Lavender turned and glared at him.

After some more arguing, they finally took a vote. It was split perfectly down gender lines. Four “ayes” and three “nos”.

They turned on the receiving half, and huddled around it, jockeying for position, until Hermione shook her head and cast a Sonorous on the Ear, so everyone could hear it easily. They were just in time to hear a masculine voice state, “I’m Harry Potter.”

---

Ginny was stunned. She stood there, with mouth agape, as her brain tried to process this incredible piece of news. The man she’d been talking with, walking with, flirting with, and, possibly, falling into fancy with was none other than the famous hero, Harry Potter. She had dreamed of him, fantasized about him, and made up innumerable games involving him, most of which involved pretend marriages. None of these, unsurprisingly, prepared her for coming face-to-face with the actual person.

A significant fraction of her mind wanted to jump up and down, clap her hands to her face, and scream. That same fraction also put forward the idea of fainting, or perhaps throwing herself into his arms and declaring her undying. . . something. As those thoughts raced through her mind, they engendered other ideas--ideas more suited for the future. A small house with a white picket fence showed up. A bunch of smiling, happy people casting the soap-bubble charm at a wedding. Babies, making babies, cooking together, eating together, cheering each other on in Quidditch.

Thankfully, the fraction of her mind that was not tied up in visions of a possible future noticed that Harry (Harry Potter!) was staring at her, and that same fraction managed to send a message to her body saying, It’s been too long since anyone talked! Do something! And for Merlin’s sake, don’t do all those other things my evil twin wants to do!

Ginny closed her mouth, blinked, and put out her hand. “Hello, Harry Potter. My name is Ginny Weasley.” And she smiled.

The next thing she knew, she was being held tightly (“Wow, those are his real muscles!”) in Harry’s arms, and he was . . . he was . . . was he crying?

She experimented with putting her arms around him, and he held her tighter. One of her hands decided it wanted to gently stroke his back, and the shaking in his body slowed. Her head, well, her head decided to rest against his chest--not that it had much choice, but it managed to make things more comfortable by turning to the side.

Her mouth couldn’t decide what to do either. Thankfully it was closed, but it kept wanting to open and say something. Finally, it did.

“Harry, are you okay?”

Harry sniffled a bit, and let her go. She, rather hesitantly, over-rode her arms’ ideas, and let go also.

“Yeah, I am.” He wiped his nose, sniffled once more, and smiled. “I’m sorry for crying all over you. I promise, I don’t do that very often.”

“What, you don’t go around and sabotage girls’ Halloween costumes by getting their hair all wet?” Ginny’s eyes opened wide at what her mouth had said, and her brain sent out messages to all parts: Don’t do anything unless I, the sane part, authorize it! You don’t want him to think you’re complaining about all this!

Harry snorted. “No, I don’t. And your costume doesn’t look very sabotaged. In fact, I think damp hair is what all the well-dressed Inferi are wearing nowadays.”

Ginny laughed too, and the awkwardness passed.

“I am sorry for breaking down like that,” Harry said, in a rather quiet voice.

Awkwardness came back for another go.

“Harry, please don’t worry about it. I’m not one of those types of girls that believes men should never show emotion. Of course, if you keep doing it, then we might need to talk about you picking up some more manly habits to counteract it, but it’s okay for right now.”

Harry laughed at that, and reached out a hand. Taking Ginny’s hand into his, he gently tugged her to start walking. “I think it’s time we showed ourselves back there--we wouldn’t want anyone to think I’d made off with you, or something.”

Ginny cocked her head at him and grinned. “Ah, Mr. Potter. But what if I wanted you to make off with me, hmmm?”

Harry smiled and kept walking. “Well, we’ll just have to see what happens, won’t we?”

-----

Silence reigned in the conspirators’ room. At least for a little bit. Then pandemonium took its turn. The only quiet ones in the room were Fred and George, who were wishing fervently that the rest of them would shut up so they could hear what was going on.

Finally, the others had calmed enough to be able to hear the conversation between Harry, who was apparently The Harry Potter, and Ginny.

“. . .I wanted you to make off with me, hmmm?”

Ron’s face turned red. “What does Ginny think she’s doing? She’s making it sound like she wants him to take her and do. . . those things with her! He’s Harry Potter!! She can’t just grab him and kiss him and . . . and. . . do that to him! He’s a hero!”

Lavender reached over and pulled his wand out of his hand before he could think about what he wanted to do. Then she grabbed him by the ear and pulled him off to a corner to explain to him, once again, that Ginny was a big girl, and could take care of herself.

Neville was the one that went straight to the heart of the matter. “Fred,” he said, in a quiet (and therefore more dangerous) voice. “Did you know that was Harry Potter that she went off with?”

Fred paled at the menacingly quiet tone. “Uh, err, yeah, I guess.”

“You guess?” he shot back.

Fred scratched the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, yes, we knew that was Harry Potter.”

“But,” Neville questioned, “why would Harry Potter come to our party?”

Luna answered this. “Harry Potter is Harry Potter, Neville.”

Neville blinked, then sat down.

George took it upon himself to give a rather more full-featured response to the question. “Well, we invited him, didn’t we? And he said he’d try to make it, since it was a costume party, and nobody would know he was Harry Potter.”

Ron and Lavender had returned to the group by now, with Ron trying his hardest to not open his mouth again. After glancing at Ron, making sure he wasn’t going to do anything, Lavender said, “Why does it not surprise me that you two know Harry Potter? But how--how did you get to know the most Eligible Bachelor in England?”

Fred, after looking at Hermione for support, spoke up. “Well, you know how we were always creating things, prank supplies and such?” Everyone nodded. “Well, see, Remus Lupin came into our store one day and asked if we’d be willing to come to dinner, as he had a friend who really wanted to meet us.”

George took up the tale. “And since we’ve always liked Lupin, we decided it was probably a good thing to do. So we closed up shop a little early, and used the portkey he had brought us.”

“The portkey took us to their safehouse, and no, we won’t tell you where it is. And who should be sitting there but Harry Potter. We did the usual ‘Nice to meet you’s’ and he told us that he’d been following our exploits--”

“Let me tell you, that made us rather proud.”

“Of course, and then he asked us to make some devices for the war against Voldemort.”

“And that, as they say, was that.”

Hermione shook her head. “Did he say how he knew about you? What did you make for him? How does he know Professor Lupin?”

“Hermione, hold on!” George exclaimed. “We can’t just tell you all his secrets--that’s for him to decide, isn’t it? I can tell you that he’s a great guy, and could very easily wipe the floor with both of us--in fact, he did it pretty regularly while the war went on.”

“Yeah,” Fred continued. “There at the end he was dueling the lot of us and winning.”

“What?” exclaimed Hermione. “What did you do? Did you prank him? Fred, you idiot! He was training to defeat Voldemort, and you pranked him? How could you? Of all the incredibly stupid things--”

Fred had put a hand over her mouth. He knew that this kind of rant could go on for quite some time. “Hermione,” he interjected. “He asked us if we would help in his training. He was already winning against Remus and . . . his other trainer. So he wanted the opportunity to duel four on one.”

“And let me tell you,” George added. “He’s incredible. We rarely even got anything through his shield.”

“And even then,” Fred took up the tale, “he’d just dodge it and fight harder.” The twins both shook their heads in admiration.

“Anyway, we got to be friends,” George continued. “In fact, he invested in our shop, kind of helped us get started.”

“But we noticed that he didn’t really get to do anything normal, like have a girlfriend--”

“--so you figured you’d fix him up with Ginny?” Ron asked, an incredulous look on his face.

“Well, yeah,” George answered, as if Ron were stupid for even asking the question.

“I think she’ll be good for him,” Luna interjected. “She has excellent kardadles.”

Ron shook his head in confusion, but Neville said, “Luna’s right, I think Ginny and he will be good for each other.”

Luna turned and smiled brilliantly at Neville, who shot Hermione a look of great thanks.

Lavender spoke up, then. “Can you tell where they are? I mean, we haven’t really been listening to the Ear for awhile--they might be off somewhere snogging or something.”

Hermione was a little shocked at Lavender’s comment. Didn’t she know that Ron would blow a gasket at hearing something like that? But then Hermione noticed the glint in Lavender’s eye, and the pieces fell into place. She was actually training Ron to not fly off the broomstick at every little thing. Looking at Lavender’s hand, Hermione could see it tightened rather firmly on Ron’s wrist, no doubt keeping him from going for his wand and running out to defend Ginny’s, or maybe Harry’s, virtue.

Lavender turned to see Hermione watching her very intently, and gave her a small smile. Hermione smiled back and nodded once, in silent recognition of the work that Lavender was putting in to help Ron mature.

The rest of the group had quieted down at Lavender’s question, but the Ear was only echoing the music coming from the dance floor.

“I guess they’ve gone back inside,” Neville commented. “Should we go in and see what’s going on?”

Fred and George nodded, and turned off the Ear, while Hermione took down the privacy charms, which meant that they could again hear the music, only much more muted than they had been hearing it through the Ear. As Neville and Luna headed toward the door, Hermione stopped them.

“Hold on, guys. We can’t all go in at once; that’d look really suspicious, and Ginny’s not dumb. We need to kind of go in one or two at a time, and head to different sections of the floor, not searching around the room for Ginny. Neville and Luna, why don’t you go around to the other door and come in.” She got a small, wicked smiled. “Maybe you can figure out how to make it look like you’ve gone off for a snogging session.”

Neville turned red at that comment, but Luna flashed her dazzling smile at Hermione. “Thank you, Hermione. I’ll make sure to spread some of the thwistles to both of us.” Then she dragged her boyfriend out the door to, presumably, ensure he had enough thwistles.

Fred wrapped an arm around Hermione. “That was brilliant, love. Although I’m not sure they’ll ever make it back in to the party.”

Hermione just shrugged and smiled. “No problem there, I think Luna’s hoping Neville will propose soon, and snogging will at least give them some privacy to talk.” She turned to Ron and Lavender. “Why don’t you two go ahead and head over to the refreshment table.” The remaining three, plus Lavender, sniggered as Ron jumped up and started pulling her out the door.

After the couple left, Hermione let out a sigh. Fred looked at her in concern, and she grimaced at him. “I’m okay, Fred. I’m just a little worried about Ginny finding out about our conspiracy. She’s fought so hard to be her own person, and force us to treat her as an equal, that I’m afraid of what she’d do if she found out about us.”

George came over and sat down next to the couple. “I’m worried too, Hermione. She’s always been rather quick with her wand, and even with us three together, I’m not sure she wouldn’t be able to beat us.”

“But we all know how lonely she’s been,” said Fred. “I mean, she rarely dates, and even then it’s only ‘cause she needs an escort. I’m sure the only person she’s ever been gone out with more than once was Neville, and that was only because Luna got sick for that one dinner. She’s just--”

“--picky. Yeah, I know. Trust me, I know,” interjected Hermione. “But she wouldn’t say it’s that, really. She’s told me time and time again that she knows what she’s looking for, and when she finds it, or him, I guess, she’s going to make up for lost time.” She frowned. “Maybe it was wrong of us to try to set her up like this. I just didn’t know what else we could do.”

Fred kissed her quickly. “Well, it seems to be working out. Harry’s a great guy, he really is. And we were rather worried about him, too.”

“Yeah,” continued George. “We even asked him once if he preferred guys.” Both he and Fred shuddered. “I think that was the time he whipped us both in about 15 seconds. He was really motivated that time.”

Hermione giggled a bit at the image the twins had conveyed. “Well, I guess what’s done is done, for good or ill. I just hope that whatever happens, she’s happy. Or at least happy enough to not make her revenge too painful.” She paused, then continued, “We should probably head on out there now. The music seems to have stopped, and they’ll be wanting you to fix that. George, do you want to go first?”

George nodded, and headed out the door.

As soon as the door shut, Hermione pulled Fred around to face her. “Now I’ve got you alone, Sweetheart, and I think I’m going to take advantage of the fact.” She leaned in close to him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pulled him down to her waiting lips.

Ten minutes later, the door to their private snogging parlor slammed open, and two red spells shot across the room, stunning the lovebirds before they had any chance to react.

---

Hermione woke up with a start. Somebody had tied her to a chair, and it felt as if she had been Rennervated. She looked to the side, and saw Fred there, in the same situation. What worried her even more was that she also saw all the other members of the unofficially-named Get Ginny a Boyfriend conspiracy tied up and looking worried.

A voice from behind her spoke softly, yet piercingly. “Is this all of you?”

Hermione turned as far as she could, and saw something that made her heart sink. Ginny Weasley was standing there, wand in her hand, with an evil grin on her face.

But the voice continued, and it wasn’t Ginny’s. “Gin, do you think this is all of them? Nobody seems to want to talk.”

“Oh, don’t worry, Harry. I’ll get them to confess. Isn’t that right, Fred?” and she walked around so she was standing in front of them. “Now, you’re going to tell me what you were doing, and who was involved, or I might just have to see how many different places Bat Bogeys can come from.”

Fred’s face went white at the threat, and he immediately started telling everything he knew. Harry and Ginny both learned a lot about the thinking and planning that went on behind their backs. One part, in particular, really interested Ginny. “And we warned all the guys here to not show too much interest in you--we couldn’t have you spending so much time on the dance floor that Harry never had the opportunity to talk to you, right?”

Ginny frowned. “Well, that explains why the party felt so wrong. Everywhere I went people all of a sudden needed a drink, or to use the loo. I thought that maybe something was wrong with my costume. It’s nice to know that wasn’t it.”

George nodded enthusiastically at this, but his hopes for Ginny’s forgiveness were short-lived, as Ginny shot him a look. “Don’t think I’m happy about it, you two. And don’t try this again, okay?”

Both twins agreed, hoping that their agreement would buy them an escape from Ginny’s proposed experiment.

“Well, Harry, what do you think?” Ginny asked.

“I think they’re telling the truth, Gin. I’ve never known them to lie to me, and can’t think they’d start now, especially with you standing there.” Harry walked around the group and came to stand next to Ginny, automatically reaching out and taking her hand in his. “The real question is, what do we do with them?”

Ginny smiled, and George shuddered a bit, recognizing that look. “Well, I guess I’m not really too angry with them. After all, it let me find you, and I can’t be upset about that. So, perhaps just a little public humiliation?”

Harry nodded. “I think that’s a good compromise. No real pain for meddling, but some embarrassment to show them that they’re not as stealthy as we are? Some future insurance against any other cockamamie plan they might come up with.” He thought for a moment, then whispered in Ginny’s ear.

Ginny laughed at Harry’s idea, and they backed away so they could see all their prisoners at once. As one, they incanted Frensa Auritula and stood back to watch the results. As one, the seven people started glowing--their skin now seemed to emit light, even through their clothing. They looked at each other in horror, although they were happy to note that the light was not dimmed or brightened by anyone’s clothing, or lack thereof, so that at least they could retain their modesty, if not their dignity.

Harry and Ginny smiled at them, then turned to leave.

“Wait!” called Ron. “Aren’t you going to untie us?” The others nodded their approval of that plan, and tried to put a beseeching look on their faces.

“Don’t worry,” Harry said, as he and Ginny opened the door to leave. “The ropes will fall off in about five minutes, at which time you can go back to the party.”

“Why does it sound like you’re not going back to the party?” Neville asked.

“Because we’re not,” Ginny answered. “After all, Harry does need to fulfill his nefarious plan to, what was it, Harry?”

“I think I was planning on making off with you,” he answered. “Bye-bye, now, oh fearless conspirators. May you enjoy the rest of your evening, wondering what all I plan on doing to your sister and friend.” With an evil wink, he wrapped his arm around the girl in question, and they exited.

The seven sat there in silence, until Luna spoke up. “I didn’t see too many thwistles on them, so maybe they’re just heading off to procure some more.”

Neville gaped at his girlfriend, but thought quickly. “Maybe so, Luna. They do look happy together, don’t they?”

Everyone agreed, except for Ron, who was too busy trying to get out of his ropes. When Lavender asked him why, he turned bright red, and looked down at the floor. “It’s just, I drank a LOT of butterbeer before our meeting, and didn’t have a chance to get to the loo before Harry and Ginny captured us.”

The room rang with laughter, although it should be noted that Ron wasn’t the only one hurrying to the loo after the allotted time elapsed.

---

A couple, one with black hair and the remains of a Batman costume, one a red-head looking as beautiful as an Inferius can, walked out of the building, laughing, talking, and stealing kisses. The decided to go to the Burrow, to give Harry the opportunity to meet her parents, but before they could leave she stopped him for a moment. “Harry?” she said, in a quiet voice. “I know it didn’t start out very well, but did you end up having a good evening?”

Harry took both of her hands in his, and looked into her eyes. “I really did, Ginny. In fact, it’s enough to make up for all the bad things that have happened on Halloween throughout my life. Although,” he paused, and Ginny looked worried. “I am really hoping that the evening isn’t over yet.”

The hopeful look in his eyes gave Ginny chills, and it was all she could do not to blurt out “I love you.” In the end, she just winked and said, “I hope so too.”

The End

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