Summary: While at the Burrow over Christmas holidays, Harry struggles to keep his feelings for Ginny secret, Ginny learns to let go of her secrets, and everyone is burping slugs with Fred and George’s newest invention. Sequel to "The Not-So-Lucky Potion"
Rating: PG-13
Categories: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: Secrets and Luck
Published: 2016.11.11
Updated: 2016.11.23
Index
Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Chapter 3: Chapter 3
Chapter 4: Chapter 4
Chapter 5: Chapter 5
Chapter 1: Chapter 1
Author's Notes: Sequel to "The Not-So-Lucky Potion." This started as a missing moment, but grew into multi-chapter fic (4 chapters total). It's set immediately after Christmas at the Burrow in Harry's sixth year, but before he returns to Hogwarts (i.e. between chapter 16 "A Very Frosty Christmas" and chapter 17 "A Sluggish Memory" in HBP)
Bill, Fleur, and Lupin left the Burrow early on Boxing Day. Percy and the Minister’s appearance during Christmas lunch had cast a pall over the day for everyone. Percy had stormed out of the house with mashed parsnip splattered on his face, leaving Mrs. Weasley in tears.
Mr. Weasley left shortly after, muttering something about needing to take care of some business for the Order.
Harry, Ron, Ginny, and the twins had a subdued lunch with Mrs. Weasley, after which she set Ron and Harry to work on peeling potatoes for dinner that night while she went to run errands in Diagon Alley.
Harry and Ron were standing alone at the kitchen sink, peeling a mountain of potatoes in silence. Snow was drifting past the window in front of them.
Fred and George lingered to tease Ron about Lavender for a short time, but had decided moments ago to head to the village pub to flirt with the Muggle girls one more time before they headed back to their flat.
“Gits,” said Ron darkly, watching Fred and George setting off across the snowy yard. “Would’ve only taken them ten seconds to peel these potatoes with magic and then we could’ve gone too.”
“I couldn’t,” said Harry. “I promised Dumbledore I wouldn’t wander beyond the wards while I’m staying here.”
“Oh yeah,” said Ron.
Harry watched him look out the window again. He wondered if some time with the twins and a few Muggle girls might encourage Ron to move on from Lavender.
“Why don’t you just go? I can finish these up while you’re out,” said Harry.
“No, I don’t want to ditch you here with nobody home,” said Ron.
“Ginny’s here. I’ll be fine,” replied Harry. “You can still catch them if you go now!”
Ron bit his lip, fighting an internal battle with himself for a moment. Then he ran to the bottom of the stairs.
“Ginny! I’m going to the pub with Fred and George!” he shouted. “Get down here and help Harry with the potatoes!”
Ron came back in. “You sure you’ll be ok?”
Harry nodded. He was secretly looking forward to another conversation with Ginny.
“You’re ditching him here with all the work?” said Ginny, appearing at the door.
“I told him to go,” said Harry. “Better go now, or you won’t catch up!”
“Right,” said Ron, grabbing his cloak and running for the door. “Thanks, mate!”
Ron slammed the door behind him. Ginny gave Harry a small smile and walked over to the sink.
“You don’t have to help…” Harry started, stepping back to make room for her at the sink.
“No, I want to help,” she said earnestly.
Her fingers lightly brushed his as she took the peeler from him. Harry felt goose bumps erupt on his arms at her touch. She moved next to him, leaning against the large farmhouse sink and picked up a potato.
They peeled in silence with Harry sneaking glances at her from the corner of his eye. She was wearing a midnight blue Weasley sweater and jeans. She had rolled up her sleeves, and he could see a few freckles on her long, thin arms. He caught a waft of the usual flowery scent of her fiery red hair, which was pulled back in a ponytail today.
He looked down at the sink suddenly feeling awkward. They had talked so easily at the party, but now that they were truly alone, he had no idea what to say to her.
As if reading his mind, Ginny spoke without looking up, “Thank you for the Chocolate Cauldron at Slughorn’s party.”
“You’re welcome,” said Harry, suppressing a smile and trying to sound nonchalant. He felt a rush of excitement at the realization that she’d known he’d sent her the treat.
“Did you enjoy the rest of the party?” he asked with a furtive glance at her.
“Yes, I did,” she said politely. Harry nodded, unsure of what to say next.
“Did you Confund Dean at Slughorn’s party?” she asked casually, as though asking about the weather.
Harry’s potato slipped out of his hands and fell into the sink. He quickly picked it up. How could she know?
“Why do you think I Confunded him?” Harry returned in what he hoped was a calm tone.
“Because Dean left to get a drink, you cast a spell on McLaggen to keep him away, and then Dean returned without a drink and the idea that we were talking about Quidditch,” said Ginny lightly.
She paused and looked at Harry, who did not look back at her. His face was heating up, and his mind was racing. He knew she’d suspected something at the party, but she still had no proof that it was him.
“Seems like Dean is a little forgetful,” he said, avoiding her eyes.
“Seems like a bit more than that, don’t you think?” she asked.
“He seemed fine to me,” replied Harry, a little more stiffly than he’d intended.
Ginny set down her potato and turned to face him. “I won’t be mad at you, Harry,” she said gently. “You’re a friend of Dean’s. I know you’d never curse him with malicious intent.”
Harry’s stomach clenched. He hated lying to her, but he felt panic at the idea of admitting he’d Confunded her boyfriend for no good reason. He turned and looked into her big brown eyes, willing his face to stay impassive.
“I’m sorry, I can’t help you,” he said, shrugging. He noticed a golden locket resting on her chest. He’d never seen it before.
“What’s in the locket?” he asked, partly out of curiosity, but mostly out of a desperate need to change the subject.
Ginny immediately put her hand over it, slightly taken aback. “Oh, it’s nothing sentimental. Mum makes me wear it. It’s a location locket.”
“What’s that?” he asked, grateful to be talking about anything except Confunding Dean.
“It’s a way to communicate without a wand. With Voldemort out in the open now, Mum wants Ron and me to be able to reach her if we’re in danger,” she said, tucking it into her sweater.
“So how does it work?” he prodded. He sensed that she wasn’t very excited about it.
“Mum cast a Protean Charm on it with a few modifications, similar to how the DA coins work,” she explained. “All I have to do is hold the locket in my fist and concentrate on a short message. Then, her locket will get hot and, when she opens it up, it will show a picture of my location on one side of the locket and the message on the other side.”
“Does Ron have one, too? I haven’t seen him with a locket…” Harry replied.
Ginny let out a humorless laugh. “No, he refuses to wear it! But Mum doesn’t seem to mind as long as I’m wearing mine. ”
“Why’s that?” asked Harry. He knew Ginny’s parents could be a bit overprotective, but he’d always thought that was simply because she was the youngest.
Ginny raised her eyebrows as if it were obvious. “Tom,” she said shortly.
Harry didn’t understand. “Does she think Voldemort is going to target you because of the diary?”
“No, she just doesn’t trust me to take care of myself. I let Tom possess me and drag me into the Chamber, so...you know,” she said hollowly, trailing off.
Her tone was casual, but Harry noticed her knuckles were white and she was digging into her potatoes more aggressively now. They’d never discussed Harry rescuing her in the Chamber or the aftermath of her possession by Voldemort. She’d always been too embarrassed to talk to him about anything. But Harry hadn’t sought her out either, as he wasn’t too keen on reliving the experience. He’d had too many other problems to worry about at the time.
“Voldemort has tricked many wizards,” said Harry, concerned that she was blaming herself. “There’s no way you could have--”
“I know, Harry,” she said sharply, cutting him off. “But that doesn’t change the way my family sees me.”
Harry considered her for a moment. She was taking larger chunks out of the potatoes as she went on and was dropping them more often. He’d never thought about how Ginny’s parents treated her compared to her brothers.
“How do they see you?” he asked.
“Don’t worry about it, Harry. It’s just the hazards of being the youngest and only girl in the family,” she said with a smile that looked more like a grimace.
Sensing that she may get defensive if he continued to press, he decided to take a different approach.
“Sometimes I feel like the Order doesn’t trust me to take care of myself, either,” he said with difficulty. He didn’t like talking about himself. “They completely isolated me after Dumbledore realized that Voldemort and I can share thoughts. It was like they’d thought I’d betray them just by knowing information. But Voldemort tricked me anyway in the end…”
Ginny looked at him meaningfully. He expected her to urge him not to blame himself for Sirius’ death, like everyone else did. Instead, she surprised him by sharing a little more about herself.
“After I’d been possessed, I felt so foolish and...almost dirty. Like I was damaged irreparably. But I didn’t want to tell my family because they already thought I was so weak. It was like I had to pretend nothing had happened, so that everyone else around me would feel better,” she said quietly.
Harry nodded. He understood how she felt. He’d tried to put on a brave face after Cedric and Sirius had died. He knew his friends cared, but their concern could be oppressive at times.
“I know how that feels,” said Harry mumbled. It was hard to put into words what he meant, but Ginny nodded.
“My parents worried about me because I didn’t make a lot of friends first year,” she said slowly. “When I came back second year, everyone had already formed their cliques and most of the Gryffindors in my year thought I was a little weird...probably because, well, you know.”
Harry nodded again. Spending first year possessed by Voldemort was not a recipe for building lasting friendships.
“I made a few casual friends--like Neville, Luna, and Hermione,” she continued. “I spent a lot of time with Fred and George. But I realized I didn’t want any close friends--not in the way you’re close with Ron and Hermione. I didn’t want to confide in anyone ever again.”
Harry felt a stab of guilt for not reaching out to her that year. “Ginny, I--”
“I didn’t want to talk to you, Harry,” she said sharply. “I was too embarrassed to even be in the same room as you because...I thought Tom told you all of my secrets.”
For the first time in years, Harry saw Ginny blush as she looked down to hide her face. It had been a long time since he’d seen this side of her.
“He didn’t tell me anything,” he reassured her gently. “He just talked about his obsession with me.”
Ginny gave a wry smile. “I should have known he wouldn’t be able to help himself around you.”
“Nobody can. I’m just so charming,” he smirked. She bumped him with her hip and giggled teasingly. Harry felt a swooping sensation in his stomach and grinned at her.
“Anyway, my parents didn’t think I was adjusting properly since I never had any close friends,” she explained. “I told them I was happy with the friends I had, but they didn’t believe I knew what was best for myself then and they still don’t now. I don’t think I’ll ever get that trust back.”
“But you’ve got plenty of friends now,” said Harry, surprised that this would continue to dog her so many years later.
“Fred and George really helped me learn how to be myself again over time, but I think my parents see my confidence as recklessness,” she said with a shrug.
“Everyone thinks I’m reckless, too,” said Harry with a hint of bitterness in his voice, thinking vaguely of Hermione’s constant words of caution and her insistence that he get rid of the Prince’s book.
He supposed Ginny didn’t like the book either, but it was clear that her misgivings were influenced by her experience with the diary. This book was obviously not a Dark object.
Ginny sighed and started piling the peeled potatoes into the buckets that Mrs. Weasley had left on the counter.
“Wow, we finished really fast!” said Harry, flexing his fingers. His hands were starting to get sore from all that peeling.
“Of course! I peel much faster than Ron,” she said. “Now let’s go do something fun! Talking about Tom is a real downer.”
“Quidditch?” Harry suggested. Nothing made him feel better than flying.
Ginny’s face lit up and she let out a squeal of joy that made Harry laugh.
“I’ll meet you by the broomshed in 5 minutes!” she shouted over her shoulder as she ran out of the kitchen.
~*~
Harry and Ginny didn’t have enough people to play a match, so they decided just to play catch with an apple from the orchard. It was an unusually cold day in December. There was already quite a bit of snow on the ground. The sun was shrouded by heavy, dark clouds. A light but cold wind cut at them as they darted through the air.
Harry pulled his cloak closer to him, hoping to warm up after they moved around a bit more.
Ginny must have been cold too, as she was blowing on her hands between throws. She rubbed the apple between her hands, getting ready for the next throw. She wound up and released, but Harry could tell right away that it would be wide and went into a dive.
Harry caught it easily, just before it hit the ground.
“Show off!” Ginny called to him, grinning.
“Make a good throw, so I won’t have to work so hard!” he laughed. He tossed the apple back to her and she caught it easily.
With a mischievous grin, she wound up again and threw the apple to Harry’s right, forcing him to dive again.
Harry caught it easily with a smug smile. “Bet you can’t get this one!”
He gave her a short throw, and she dove forward, just barely catching it.
“My broom’s too slow for such steep dives!” she giggled.
“You’re doing just fine. How did you learn how to dive like that?” asked Harry. She was an excellent Chaser, but he knew she was also a great Seeker.
“Dean and I taught a few friends how to play Quidditch during my fourth year. They always made terrible throws, so we were always diving all over the place to fetch the Quaffle,” she said, still giggling.
Harry felt a stab of annoyance at the idea of Ginny playing Quidditch with Dean. He was a decent player, but Harry doubted Dean was good enough to catch anything that wasn’t thrown straight to him. Ginny was too good at Quidditch to be hanging around with someone like Dean.
“Let’s trade off with my broom and see how many in a row we can catch,” he called, as Ginny circled above him. He would show her how much fun it was to play with someone at her own skill level.
They took turns diving and catching the apple. Harry threw in a few tricks on his broom to make Ginny laugh.
Ginny was remarkably good once she was on the Firebolt. Harry had a hard time making her drop the apple. He started flying ahead on her Cleansweep to make it easier for him to throw the apple farther.
It was Harry’s turn to catch the apple again when he felt a tingling sensation run through his body.
He shuddered. “Did you feel that?”
Ginny’s face was no longer bright and carefree. “We passed through the wards protecting the Burrow. We should go back.”
Harry looked back toward the wards, exasperated. He could see them shimmering slightly if he squinted. They hadn’t ventured very far from the Burrow. He guessed there were barely 50 yards away.
“But don’t you want to try some tougher dives? There’s barely enough space to do the easy ones in there!” Harry complained. He was eager to pull off a really difficult dive for her
“Of course I do, but Mum already doesn’t trust me to take care of myself. If she catches me out here, she’ll have kittens,” she replied without much conviction.
“But you’re with me,” Harry smiled, circling Ginny on his broom and bumping her playfully. He knew Ginny would see through this. The reason why they had to go back was because she was with him at all.
Ginny laughed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t think she will be reassured to know that I’m wandering around with an underage wizard who can’t do magic if danger strikes!”
“You’re right. I don’t have any experience with dangerous situations,” said Harry.
“Not a daring bone in your body, I’m afraid,” giggled Ginny, playing along.
Harry suddenly recalled Ginny’s desire to go on an adventure with Felix Felicis. He might not be able to take her on a proper adventure right now, but he could at least give her a little fun before they went back.
“Give me one more throw. Make it a really tough one, and then we can go back,” said Harry. He was sure she’d take him up on this compromise.
Ginny smiled. Harry could tell she wanted to keep going, too. She flew ahead of him, along the boundary of the wards toward a tree sitting on a hill overlooking a lake.
She turned back to Harry and shouted, “Ready?”
Harry turned his Firebolt toward her and tightened his grip. “Ready!”
Ginny wound up and threw the apple as high and as far as should could toward the tree. As soon as the apple left her fingers, Harry took off on his broom.
Her throw was a bit stronger than he expected, and he had to lay flat out on his broom to close the distance between him and the apple.
As he got closer to the tree, he moved into a steep dive with his hand outstretched. He would catch the apple just as it fell through the tree branches. Maybe he would add a flip to make it look more dramatic...
Inexplicably, Harry chanced a glance backward to see if Ginny was watching. In that moment, the apple slipped through his fingertips. Harry was so surprised that he pulled out of his dive late.
THUMP!
A tree branch collided hard with Harry’s chest, unseating him from his broom. He felt a stabbing pain in his ribs as it knocked the wind out of him. Disoriented and gasping, he groped blindly for his Firebolt, but came up with nothing. Twigs and branches scratched at his face and cloak as he fell toward the black lake below. Shielding his face with his arms, Harry took a deep breath and braced for the impact that came like a concrete wall.
The icy water stung like a thousand needles piercing his skin. The chill ripped through his body and straight to his heart, causing him to involuntarily gasp. He swallowed water, burning his lungs as he clamped his mouth shut and exhaled through his nose.
His cloak flew up over his head, weighing him down and blacking out the light. It settled around him like a vice. He didn’t know which way was up, and he could barely lift his arms to swim under the weight of the cloak. He kicked hard, but the cloak made it impossible to tell if he was getting anywhere.
Harry started to panic as he unclasped his cloak and tried to disentangle himself. It was getting harder and harder to kick as the cold penetrated his legs. It was overtaking his body quickly, making his limbs stiffer and heavier the more he moved. His lungs were starting to burn with the need for air. He wasn’t sure how long he was going to be able to hold his breath, but he knew he must keep fighting.
Chapter 2: Chapter 2
Ginny was flying as fast as she could toward the lake, kicking herself for not following Harry as soon as she’d thrown the apple. She hadn’t taken off in his direction until he’d hit the tree with a sickening crack. She waved her wand at Harry’s falling figure and screamed, “Impedimenta!”The Impediment Curse barreled toward Harry, but she was too far away and she could see it losing strength. It connected with him just before he hit the water, slowing him down instead of stopping him. Her heart jumped into her throat when she saw him hit the icy water. The impact alone could have broken his bones, preventing him from being able to swim.
A shudder ran through her, and she felt a surge of adrenaline as blood pounded in her temples. She gripped her broom more tightly and willed it to go faster. The old broom suddenly jerked and sped up. It creaked and shook violently under the strain, nearly bucking her off as she pushed it to its limits.
Fear and regret threatened to overtake her. She should have never agreed to stay beyond the wards. She knew better than this, but she’d let Harry’s windswept hair and adorable smile tempt her.
Her eyes were fixed on the spot where he’d entered the water. It had been almost 30 seconds and he still hadn’t surfaced.
Time slowed down as Ginny’s mind went into overdrive, convincing herself of the worst: It was barely 30 degrees outside, and she knew there was no way the water was warmer than that. If the cold water shock didn’t kill him, hypothermia could. She needed to get him out of the water fast.
She grabbed the locket, looked at the lake, and thought, Need help at the lake by the Burrow. The locket burned in her fist. She knew her mother would be mad they’d gone beyond the wards, but Harry still hadn’t come up for air. Ginny was taking no chances.
She landed so hard on the shore of the lake that her knees buckled and she fell in the mud. Scrambling to her feet, she frantically tore off her cloak, sweater, and jeans. The cold air stung as it made contact with her sweat and skin. She was down to only her t-shirt and thin leggings she wore under her jeans in winter, but at least they wouldn’t weigh her down in the water.
Ginny guessed it had been over a minute now, and Harry still hadn’t surfaced. She mounted her broom and saw that her broom handle had split down the middle. It was still in one piece, so she kicked off anyway, wobbling a bit, and flew to the center of the ripples in the lake, guessing that was where he had fallen. She was only a couple feet above the water, but could not see him.
She pointed her wand into the water and cast a Warming Charm. It wasn’t strong enough to warm the entire lake, but she knew it would warm the water around him. She turned her wand onto herself and cast another Warming Charm, so that she would be able to swim.
“Lumos,” she breathed, her voice shaking. The tip of her wand lit up.
Her body tingled with warmth as she stood on her broom, hearing it pop and crack under her. She took a deep breath and dove into the icy water, feeling the broom finally snap in two as she pushed off.
The water was so cold on her skin that it burned, but the Warming Charm had taken off enough of the edge that she could swim without losing feeling in her joints. She kicked hard, urging herself deeper into the water toward a blurry black shape that she could barely see in the wandlight.
Her hands gripped heavy fabric. Her heart leapt as she realized it was Harry’s cloak. She pulled hard, feeling a little resistance, running the cloak through her hands urgently like a rope. Finally, she felt Harry’s head collide with her hands. Tearing the cloak away from him, she grabbed him by his sweater and felt her way over his shoulders and down his back until she could slip her arms under his armpits and around his chest.
Ginny was gripped with a wave of panic as she realized his body was completely limp. She tried to swim, but realized they were slowly sinking. Her lungs had started to burn when her feet found a rock and she pushed off as hard as she could. Clutching Harry to her chest, Ginny kicked with all of her might as she slowly neared the surface.
Her face finally broke the surface, and she leaned back to get Harry’s head above water.
“Harry!” she gasped. His head bobbed limply against her cheek. She raised a hand to his forehead; he was stone cold. She squeezed his chest and shook him.
“Harry!” she choked, swallowing water and fighting back tears. She couldn’t tell if he was breathing, and his silence nearly broke her. She shook him again and slapped his cold, clammy cheek, willing him to wake up.
Her limbs were getting heavier as she continued to tread water. The cold from the water and his body pierced her like needles as the Warming Charm wore off. She sank under his weight and both of their heads dipped below the surface.
She pushed him up, so that his head came out of the water. She managed to tilt her head up next to him enough for just her face to break the surface.
Finally, she heard him cough. His body jerked under her hands as his coughs became stronger. Ginny let out a sharp cry of relief, but the feeling was fleeting.
“Harry, I need you to swim,” she gasped again, struggling to keep him above water as she slowly moved them to the shore.
Harry coughed again, his breathing ragged. Her arms were so numb now that she couldn’t tell how tightly she was holding him.
“Harry, can you hear me? Stay with me,” she pleaded, tears threatening again. She inhaled water as her head dipped under again. She came up coughing and spitting.
“We’re going to be okay, Harry!” she choked, more to herself than to Harry.
She let herself slip under the water again, pushing Harry up and stretching her feet to the bottom to check the depth. Her toes were too numb to feel anything, but she sensed resistance in her leg. The water was about a foot over her head now.
She sank a bit further, trying to bend her knees even though she couldn’t feel them. Ginny pushed off from the muddy bottom, throwing both of them forward. She needed the momentum to get them to the shallow water.
“Can you stand here?” she asked, finally finding her footing with her head above water. She felt Harry’s legs bump against hers.
“No,” he gasped. Ginny’s heart leapt. He was conscious, if just barely.
Just then, Ginny heard a loud pop that echoed around the lake. Her mother was standing on the shore with her wand out.
“Mum!” she screamed, waving a hand in the air.
Almost instantly, Ginny and Harry were yanked from the water. They landed on the muddy shore next to each other.
Ginny rolled over onto her hands and knees next to Harry, who was lying on his side with his back to her, coughing up water violently. The cold wind burned like fire on her skin.
“Are you alright?” her mother asked urgently. She threw Ginny’s cloak over her shoulders.
“Yes, but I don’t know about Harry,” she replied, clutching the cloak closer to her and shivering.
Her mother waved her wand, and Harry was lifted off the ground into an upright position. Ginny struggled to stand up, her numb legs slipping clumsily in the mud. Her mother grabbed her arm to steady her.
“We need to get out of here, now,” her mother said in a calm, stern voice, still gripping Ginny’s arm. “Hold onto Harry.”
Ginny threw her arm around Harry’s waist as he levitated next to her. She pulled his cold, limp body against her, steeling herself to be Side-Along Apparated with her mother. Her mother’s gripped tightened on her arm, and she turned.
At once, she was overcome with the horrible sensation of being squeezed through a thick rubber tube. Every part of her was being compressed to the point that she couldn’t breath. Just when she thought she might suffocate, the invisible bands seemed to burst open.
The three of them landed in a wet, muddy heap in the kitchen at the Burrow. Ginny and her mother stood up, but Harry remained on the floor, covered in mud. He rolled over onto his side and started to cough up more water.
“How long was he under?” her mother asked. She knelt beside him and started to run her wand over him, muttering.
“I d-don’t know. M-maybe t-two minutes or m-more,” Ginny replied, teeth chattering. Her hands and feet started to tingle painfully as the feeling came back to them. A fresh wave of panic hit her now that she could see Harry clearly. His glasses were gone, his face was completely white, and his lips were a dark purple. His scar looked red and raw on his forehead. He was bleeding from small cuts all over his face.
Ginny dropped to her knees behind Harry, hot tears silently streaming down her face. She patted him gently on the back as he retched violently.
“I’m s-so s-sorry, Harry,” she whispered, struggling to keep her voice even. She could feel his body warming rapidly as her mother continued to mutter incantations.
Harry grunted incoherently. Her mother looked up and put a warm hand on Ginny’s cheek with an intense look in her eyes.
“He’s going to be okay, love,” she said, her voice full of emotion. She kissed her on the forehead.
This calmed her, but she knew her mother wouldn’t be so reassuring when she inevitably learned what had really happened. Once Harry had been tended to, Ginny knew she’d have some explaining to do...
Harry grunted again and rolled onto his hands and knees, resting his forehead and palms in a puddle of muddy water on the floor.
“Go change into some dry clothes. Bring some back for Harry,” her mother said. She waved her wand to put the kettle on the stove.
She turned back to Harry as Ginny left the room. “Harry, dear, I’m going to cast a Drying Charm on you now, so I need you to hold still,” she heard her mother say.
Ginny hobbled up the stairs, her legs still painfully regaining feeling. She cursed herself for letting this happen.
One more throw.
She’d wanted so many more throws. She could have stayed out there all day with him, but she knew she mustn’t. No good would come from admiring his effortless flying or losing herself in his piercing green eyes.
But you’re with me.
She’d brushed him off at the time, but he didn’t realize what an effect those words had on her. He’d saved her life and freed her from Tom Riddle. She felt safe with him, like nobody else. She’d let her feelings for him make her believe they’d be invulnerable--and it had nearly killed him.
Ginny did not remember how she made it to her room and dressed. She was walking up to Ron’s room in the attic to get Harry’s clothes.
Her heart ached. It ached from the love for him she had buried, for the guilt she felt in not reaching him fast enough at the lake, for the fear of losing him, and for the shame of betraying her mother’s trust.
Her moment of indulgence--the moment she gave into Harry’s reckless plea--had nearly cost her everything. It had nearly cost the wizarding world everything.
Entering the bedroom, she opened Harry’s trunk. His clothes were stacked under a few books about defensive magic. She picked up a t-shirt and help it up to her face, inhaling his scent. This would be her last moment of indulgence, and then she would lock her feelings back up.
When Ginny returned to the kitchen, Ron was sitting at the table with Harry. Harry was shirtless with a blanket draped over his shoulders, sipping tea. His jeans were caked with dried mud. His face was still pale, but his cheeks were glowing red. His lips were almost back to their usual soft pink. His sweater and t-shirt were sitting on the floor in a wet pile.
Ginny blushed for the second time as she looked away from Harry’s bare chest. She set the clothes on the table next to him.
“Ginny, sit down and have some tea,” her mother said, putting a steaming mug on the table and pulling out a chair for her.
Harry, who had just noticed Ginny, stood up abruptly.
“No, don’t get up,” she said weakly, sitting down in the chair.
“Ginny--” Harry started.
“Ron, go help Harry change into his dry clothes,” said her mother. She sat down and turned to Ginny. “Fred and George went to fetch your brooms and Harry’s glasses from the bottom of the lake.”
Harry waved Ron off. “No, I can do it myself,” he said loudly. He picked up the clothes and walked haltingly out of the room.
“How is he?” Ginny asked, taking a sip of tea.
“His body temperature is back to normal, and it seems like he’s coughed up all of the water,” said her mother heavily. “I did my best to mend his broken ribs, but I think he’ll need to see Madam Pomfrey when we gets back to Hogwarts if he’s still having pain.”
“Thank you so much, Mum,” whispered Ginny in a strangled voice. She leaned forward to hug her, tears rolling down her cheeks again.
Her mother squeezed her tightly. “It’s all over now,” she said gently.
Ginny heard Ron’s chair scrape the floor as he stood up. He walked behind them and wrapped his arms around both of them.
“I’m glad you’re ok,” he mumbled. They broke apart.
“You’re not mad, Mum?” asked Ginny sniffing and wiping away tears.
“I’m grateful that you’re both ok,” she said, evading the question.
“That doesn’t mean she’s not mad,” said Ron grimly.
“I’m withholding judgment until I get the whole story,” replied her mother, eyes flashing ominously.
Just then, an owl tapped on the window. Ron rose to retrieve the letter and returned to the table.
He handed the letter to Ginny. “It’s for you,” he said uncertainly.
Chapter 3: Chapter 3
Author's Notes: Thanks everyone for the kind reviews! I'll be posting two more chapters after this one. Hope you enjoy this latest chapter!
Harry hobbled down the stairs, having changed into clean clothes and feeling utterly ashamed and exhausted. He knew he should have never pressured Ginny to go beyond the wards…
When he entered the kitchen, Fred and George were sitting at the table with Ron, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley. Ginny was holding a letter, looking pale and stricken. Her hair was dry, but he could still see bits of mud in it.
“Good news, Harry,” said Fred. “We fished your broom and glasses out of the lake, and they seem to be in tact.”
Fred handed Harry his glasses as he sat down to join them and motioned over to his Firebolt that was leaning against the wall by the door.
“But Ginny’s broom has seen its last flight…” said George heavily. He set a few broken pieces of wood on the table.
Harry felt a stab of guilt. Her broom was completely destroyed, all because of him. He remembered how awful he’d felt when he wrecked his Nimbus Two Thousand...
“We were only able to find pieces of the broom handle,” he continued. “It looks like it split down the middle first and then broke into smaller pieces afterward.”
“Bloody hell. What happened out there?” asked Ron incredulously.
Ginny reached across the table and picked up a piece of her broom, looking at it as though she’d lost a friend.
“Ginny, I’m--” Harry started, but her mother cut him off.
“We’ll need to hear the whole story once your father gets home,” said Mrs. Weasley with a note of irritation in her voice. “He’ll be here any minute. Ginny, dear, what’s in the letter?
Ginny set the broken broom handle on the table gingerly and shifted uncomfortably. She sighed as she slowly ripped open the letter. Her eyes were red as though she’d been crying. Harry felt an even bigger stab of guilt, knowing that he had made her cry. She unfolded the letter and read aloud:
Dear Ms. Weasley,
We have received intelligence that you performed an Impediment Curse, Acceleration Charm, two Warming Charms, and a Wand Lighting Charm near your place of residence this afternoon starting at twelve minutes past three. As you know, underage witches are not permitted to perform spells outside of school. Further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C).
Given the number of spells you cast, we regret to inform you that your presence is required at a disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 9 a.m. on the twenty-eighth of December.
Enjoy your Holidays!
Yours sincerely,
Mafalda Hopkirk
Improper Use of Magic Office
Ministry of Magic
“A hearing?” said Ron. Mrs. Weasley tutted.
Harry felt the bottom drop out of his stomach at this news. If Ginny got expelled for his stupidity, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself.
“An Acceleration Charm?!” said Ginny, outraged. The color was starting to return to her face.
“That’s the part of the letter you find most upsetting?” asked George, amazed.
“I did not cast an Acceleration Charm,” she said pointedly.
Just then, the fire roared and turned green. Mr. Weasley stepped out, shaking the ash off his cloak. Ginny rose and went to him immediately. He swept her into a hug.
“Are you alright?” he asked, kissing her on the head.
“Yes, everyone’s fine,” she said.
They sat down at the table while Mrs. Wealsey poured him a cup of tea.
“Ginny got the letter. No expulsion, but they want a disciplinary hearing,” Mrs. Weasley told him quickly.
“Was Harry involved?” asked Mr. Weasley, concerned.
“Yes, it’s my fault,” Harry interrupted. “I will tell the Ministry that it was me--”
“No, the Ministry can’t know you were involved,” said Mr. Weasley sternly. “We can’t let either of you into a hearing. We still don’t know who we can trust at the Ministry. If they decide to use Veritaserum on you, Harry, you’ll be vulnerable to questions about the prophecy and your connection to You-Know-Who.”
“Then what can I do to help? Ginny doesn’t deserve this,” asked Harry with a note of desperation in his voice. He was determined to prevent Ginny from getting expelled.
“I need to know everything that happened,” said Mr. Weasley. “Once we have the whole story, Dumbledore and Kingsley can try to intervene. There are so many cases of underage magic that the Ministry often prefers to resolve it directly with the school rather than letting it go to a hearing.”
Harry took a deep breath and started to explain, making sure it was clear that he had pressured Ginny into straying beyond the wards. He was adamant that she did not get blamed for his foolhardiness.
He had barely explained how they’d passed through the wards when Mr. Weasley interrupted.
“Why didn’t you want to go back inside the wards?” he asked. “Did you feel compelled to stay? Did it seem like anything unusual was going on?”
“No, I just wanted to keep playing,” said Harry, ashamed that he didn’t have a better reason.
“But couldn’t you have played inside the wards?” asked Mrs. Weasley sharply.
Harry shifted uncomfortably. He could sense Mrs. Weasley’s frustration bubbling under the surface. She had never punished Harry before, but he’d seen enough from her to know that he was in for at least some harsh words now that she’d knew that they’d left the safety of the Burrow voluntarily.
“There wasn’t enough space for the riskier dives,” Harry replied, looking down at the table. He realized how silly and childish this sounded now.
“There was no foul play, Dad,” said Ginny wearily.
“Ginny insisted that we go back, but I pressured her to keep going,” added Harry.
He saw Ron and the twins exchange glances. Fred rolled his eyes, clearly skeptical.
“We agreed to do one more throw,” said Ginny, glaring at her brothers.
This seemed to satisfy Mr. Weasley for a moment. He paused, nodding thoughtfully.
“Did you talk about anything while you were playing catch?” he asked.
“Not really,” said Ginny, confused. “Why?”
“Even if you weren’t lured out by magic, you could have been overheard,” he said. Harry thought this seemed a bit paranoid, but he understood that Mr. Weasley was simply trying to cover all of the bases for his conversation with Dumbledore and Kingsley.
“We only talked about our game and how Ginny used to play with Dean--” said Harry.
“Who’s Dean?” Mr. Weasley asked abruptly.
Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Ginny cut him off.
“He’s just a guy on the Gryffindor Quidditch team,” she said glibly.
Ron looked like he had something to add, but George elbowed him hard and he remained silent.
Harry nodded slowly, his mind racing. Why hadn’t Ginny told her parents about Dean? He knew she didn’t like to share much about herself, but all of her brothers already knew. It wasn’t as though Dean were a shameful secret.
“Alright, let’s move on then,” said Mr. Weasley.
Harry continued with the story. The Weasleys listened in rapt silence until Harry explained how he’d hit the tree.
“How’d you miss the apple? You never miss,” said Ron, disbelieving.
“It just slipped through my fingers,” said Harry shortly. He did not want to dwell on what was possibly the most embarrassing part of the afternoon.
“Were you distracted by something?” asked Mr. Weasley.
“No, I just missed it,” repeated Harry, unable to keep the irritation out of his voice.
“But if you touched it, then it’s hard to believe you would drop it without some sort of outside interference,” pressed Mr. Weasley. “It’s possible someone may have Confunded you without your knowledge to make you fall--”
“No, I was definitely not Confunded,” interrupted Harry forcefully. He was sure there were no Death Eaters. He only had his own vanity to blame.
“You wouldn’t know if you were Confunded,” supplied George.
“I just know it wasn’t that,” snapped Harry. He did not want to admit the real reason he’d dropped the apple.
“How do you know?” asked Mr. Weasley. “I’m sorry, Harry, but we need to be absolutely certain. If the Death Eaters saw you or interfered, then we’ll need to take additional security measures immediately.”
Harry could feel his face heating up and he fidgeted in his chair uncomfortably. He was going to have to tell them.
“I might have dropped it because I took my eyes off the apple for just a second,” he said slowly, looking down at the table again.
“Did you see something?” asked Mr. Weasley.
“No, I was just...looking back,” Harry replied lamely.
“Harry, you’re going to have to be clearer,” said Mr. Weasley, not bothering to disguise his impatience.
Harry ran a hand through his hair. The kitchen seemed really hot all of the sudden, and he felt like he was sweating all over. He swallowed and continued.
“I looked back at Ginny...you know, to make sure she was watching,” he said quietly, still looking down at the table.
Harry heard a hissing sound from the twins. He assumed they were trying to suppress their laughter. Mrs. Weasley shushed them.
“And that’s when I saw him fall…” said Ginny quickly.
Ignoring Harry’s last statement, she continued the story. But Harry only felt more mortified as she explained how she’d saved his life. Ginny had risked her life and her place at Hogwarts for him.
“But how did you bust up your broom? Brooms don’t just fall apart like that,” asked Fred when she was done.
“I think it was the Acceleration Charm,” said Ginny ruefully. “I was so afraid that Harry was going to drown that I might have cast it accidentally. All I could think about was flying faster.”
“And you swam with him all that way without any magic?” asked George, a note of awe in his voice.
“I cast the Warming Charm, so that my limbs wouldn’t freeze up,” Ginny reminded him.
“Ginny’s always been the strongest swimmer in the family,” said Ron to Harry. “She’s probably the only one who could have pulled you out of that lake without magic.”
Ginny gave Ron a small smile. Harry looked her into the eyes for the first time since she’d started telling her side of the story.
“Thank you...for everything, Ginny,” he said slowly.
Ginny looked away from him and said nothing. Was she mad that she might be expelled because of him?
Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. “I think I have everything I need for my conversation with Dumbledore and Kingsley,” he said.
“Why don’t you tell the Ministry that it was me who fell in the lake?” said Ron. “That way, if it goes to a hearing, they won’t call Harry as a witness.”
“Yes, it is far more believable that Ron would fly into a tree than Harry,” said Fred with a smirk.
“And it’s also reasonable that Ginny would take the same drastic actions to save her brother,” continued Ron, ignoring Fred’s comment.
“I would have done that for anyone,” said Ginny hotly. “He was drowning!”
“Yes, Ron, that will be the plan, provided it doesn’t go to a hearing,” said Mr. Weasley. “They could easily use Veritaserum on Ginny in a hearing to learn that it was Harry who had fallen in the lake. But we’re going to do our best to make sure it doesn’t come to that.”
Mr. Weasley turned to Harry and Ginny. “Thank you for your honesty, both of you,” he said. “But I want to impress upon you the seriousness of the situation.”
“Wandering beyond the wards! You both could have been kidnapped...or even killed!” said Mrs. Weasley, shaking her head. Ginny looked down, ashamed.
“Harry,” Mr. Weasley said, his voice sharper now. “I don’t have to tell you how many people are risking their lives to keep you safe every day.”
Harry tried to speak, but Mr. Weasley held up his hand.
“I know you didn’t ask them to, but the reality is that you are You-Know-Who’s number one target. You endangered yourself and my daughter. If anything had happened to you, it could have turned the course of the entire war. And if anything had happened to Ginny--”
“I know,” interrupted Harry, his throat tight. He didn’t want to think about what could have happened to Ginny if she couldn’t pull him out of the water. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Weasley. I never wanted to put her in that position. It was wrong, and I acted selfishly. I promise it will never happen again.”
“We love having you stay in our home, Harry, but if you can’t follow the rules, Dumbledore might not let you visit anymore,” continued Mr. Weasley.
This hit Harry hard. He’d never imagined that he wouldn’t be able to visit the Weasleys. His heart sank at the idea of spending the whole summer with the Dursleys.
“And you…” said Mr. Weasley, rounding on Ginny.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” said Ginny in a small voice.
“Ginny, you know the rules about the wards,” he said. Harry had never heard Mr. Weasley take such a stern tone with Ginny before.
“Yes, no leaving without permission,” she said hollowly.
“I don’t care what Harry said to you. It’s no excuse for disobeying your mother and me,” he continued. “We’re not buying you a new broom, so you’ll have to find another way to get one. And you’re grounded for--”
“--the rest of the Christmas holidays and Easter holidays,” interrupted Mrs. Weasley.
“You don’t think that’s a bit lenient, Molly?” asked Mr. Weasley in a low voice.
Ginny, who had been looking at the ground, silently taking her punishment, looked up at her parents hopefully. Harry looked away quickly to hide his surprise; he had expected her to ground Ginny for the whole summer.
“Ginny, I’m very upset and disappointed that you decided to go beyond the wards,” said Mrs. Weasley, her voice shaking as she tried to stay calm. “But I’m so proud of you for using the locket. I know you think we worry about you too much, but it means a lot that you trusted me to help.”
“Thanks, Mum,” said Ginny cautiously. It seemed like she couldn’t quite believe what was happening.
“What about her broom? She’s on the Quidditch team!” said Ron indignantly.
To Ron’s dismay, both of his parents shook their heads. “She did the right thing when Harry was in danger, but she was careless when she went beyond the wards. Merlin knows we can’t afford a new one,” said Mrs. Weasley. “Maybe this will teach her to be more careful with her brooms.”
Harry immediately vowed to offer to help her buy a new broom. He doubted Ginny had any money to get a new one, and the Hogwarts school brooms were too unreliable for her to play well.
Mr. Weasley left shortly thereafter to meet with Dumbledore and Kingsley, leaving Harry feeling more ashamed that he had before. He had let down Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and nearly drowned himself--and worse, Ginny--all because he’d wanted to show her he was a better Quidditch player than Dean. She probably already knew he was better! He was the Captain, after all.
Harry had a subdued dinner with the rest of the Weasleys. He wanted to get a few minutes alone with Ginny to apologize to her, but Mrs. Weasley rushed him up to bed immediately after dinner.
“You need to rest,” she insisted. Harry saw Ginny quietly slipping off behind Mrs. Weasley, but her mother spun around. “Ginny, that means you, too!”
She herded the two of them up the stairs. Harry followed Ginny, her fiery ponytail bouncing as she climbed. When they reached the first landing, Ginny headed straight to her room.
“Ginny,” hissed Harry. Ginny stopped with her hand on the doorknob and looked at him. Her face glowed even when she was frowning.
“Can we talk?” he whispered.
Ginny shook her head. “Harry, I’m really tired. Can we talk in the morning?”
Her bright brown eyes were full of worry. Harry felt yet another wave of guilt. He had caused that worry.
“Of course,” he said, nodding. “Have a good night.”
“Thank you,” she breathed as she pushed open the door, closing it quickly behind her.
Harry stared at the closed door. He didn’t blame her if she was mad at him. Ginny had confided in him that her parents didn’t trust her and thought she was reckless, and he’d pressured her into proving them right. With a pang of sadness, he realized that today might be the last time he’d ever play Quidditch with her alone.
~*~
Harry awoke the next morning feeling like he’d been hit by the Knight Bus. His whole body was stiff and aching, and he had a pounding headache. He groaned as he rolled out of bed.
“Alright, Harry?” said Ron.
“Really sore,” Harry grunted.
“Imagine how much worse you’d feel if Ginny’s spell hadn’t slowed you down,” said Ron. Harry guessed that Ron thought that would make him feel better, but it just reminded him again of what Ginny risked to save him. Hopefully they would find out more about her fate today.
Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were already in the kitchen when Harry and Ron came down for breakfast. Ginny was frying bacon at the stove with her back to them. Her hair was down today, looking like a red mane.
“Where’s Dad?” asked Ron, as they sat down at the kitchen table.
“He left early this morning to go to the Ministry,” said Mrs. Weasley, spooning out eggs onto each of their plates. Harry presumed that Mr. Weasley was there to fight Ginny’s hearing.
Ginny walked over with the frying pan, dropping a couple strips of bacon on the plates. She looked up at Harry with a smile as he took a drink of orange juice and said, “Good morning, Harry.”
Harry choked on his orange juice. “G-good morning,” he coughed, wiping the juice off his chin. Maybe Ginny wasn’t mad at him after all.
Mr. Weasley arrived through the fireplace just after Ginny and Mrs. Weasley sat down for breakfast. He joined them after hanging up his cloak.
“I have some news,” he said, smiling at Ginny.
“Am I off the hook?” asked Ginny hopefully. Harry’s pulse quickened in anticipation.
“I met with Malfalda Hopkirk and Dumbledore this morning,” he said, cutting his bacon. “She’s agreed to forego the hearing in exchange for Ginny serving detention at Hogwarts. She’ll have to do four weeks, one week for each spell she cast. Dumbledore convinced her to waive the Acceleration Charm offense since it was accidental magic.”
“That’s a month of detention!” said Ron.
“I’ll do it for you, Ginny,” said Harry immediately. “It’s my fault--”
“Harry, you’ll have to take that up with Professor McGonagall when you return to school,” said Mr. Weasley.
Ginny got up and hugged her father. “Thank you for taking care of this for me, Dad.”
Then she excused herself and left the room. Harry and Ron jumped out of their chairs to follow her.
“You better make sure McGonagall doesn’t schedule the detentions during Quidditch practice!” said Ron, following Ginny up the stairs.
“I doubt I’ll have much say in the matter,” said Ginny sourly.
“Ginny, I’d like to talk to you alone,” said Harry. They had reached the first landing.
Ginny looked at Ron. “Shove off, Ron,” she said. Ron looked surprised and turned to Harry for help.
“I just need a few minutes, Ron. I’ll catch up with you later,” said Harry.
Ron didn’t argue, but went back downstairs in a huff.
Ginny put her hand on the doorknob of her bedroom door. Harry’s heart fluttered, unbidden, at the idea of going into her bedroom alone. He had never been in there before.
She took her hand off the doorknob as if reading his thoughts. “I’m not allowed to have boys in my room,” she said stiffly.
“Not even your brothers?” asked Harry curiously.
“You’re not my brother,” said Ginny. Her expression was difficult to read.
“Let’s talk in Ron’s room then,” suggested Harry.
They climbed the stairs in silence. Harry closed the door once they were in Ron’s room. Ginny stood opposite Harry next to his trunk, her face still unreadable.
“Ginny, I want to thank you for--” Harry started.
“No, Harry, I don’t want to do this,” she said quickly, waving him off.
“Just hear me out!” pleaded Harry. He needed her to know that he was both grateful for her help and sorry for what he did.
“You’ve saved my life, my father’s life, and Ron’s. You don’t need to do this,” she protested. She folded her arms, looking stubborn.
“I know, but I need you to hear this, Ginny. Please,” he insisted.
“Ok, make it quick,” she said, relenting. Relieved, Harry let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. He ran a hand through his unruly hair absently as he readied himself to speak.
“Ginny, thank you for saving my life and for risking your own life to get me out of that lake,” he said slowly, feeling a surge of emotion well up inside him. “We could have both drowned. I know how terrifying it is to not know if you’re going to live or die...or to see someone who might be dead…”
“Harry, stop,” she said, visibly distressed. “I don’t even want to think about what could have happened…” She turned her back on him and walked toward the corner of the room, putting as much distance between them as she could.
Now he knew why she had been avoiding him. She wasn’t mad at him. She simply didn’t want to deal with what had happened. Harry’s stomach turned as another wave of guilt and regret washed over him.
“I’m so sorry, Ginny,” he said, taking a step closer to her. “You confided in me about your parents not trusting you, and I pushed you into a terrifying situation just because I wanted to...you know...” He broke off. His face was heating up again and he looked down, avoiding her eyes.
“Nobody made you fall off your broom, then? I won’t tell anyone, Harry,” she asked, her voice full of concern. “I just want peace of mind, so I can put this behind me.
Harry’s face burned and his mouth went dry. “I wish there were a better reason, but I really was just--er, showing off.”
He chanced a glance at Ginny. She had moved next to his trunk again, but said nothing. She was studying him carefully.
“I know this doesn’t make up for it, but I meant what I said downstairs,” he continued. The blood was starting to recede from his cheeks. “I would like to talk to McGonagall and try to serve those detentions in your place.”
“Don’t worry about it, Harry. If I can handle Umbridge’s detentions, then I can take a few detentions with McGonagall,” she said dismissively.
Harry felt a surge of anger at the thought of Ginny carving up her hand alone in Umbridge’s office. His eyes darted to back of her hands, and he was slightly mollified to see no scars.
“But this is all my fault! It never would have happened if I hadn’t pressured you to go outside the wards--” he said forcefully.
“Don’t sell yourself short, Harry. There are plenty of trees within the wards you could have flew into,” she replied dryly.
Harry let out a laugh. “But no frigid lakes…”
“Besides, you don’t get to take all of the blame. I wanted to do it just as much as you did,” she admitted.
Harry’s felt a jolt at the idea that she wanted to stay too, but he wasn’t sure if it was because she loved Quidditch or she wanted to be there with him.
“Why did you want to keep going so badly?” asked Ginny curiously.
“I don’t know… maybe for the same reason I flew into a tree,” said Harry. Without thinking, he stepped closer to her. He wanted to reach out and stroke her hair, but he resisted.
Ginny didn’t move. Her bright brown eyes searched his face for a moment before she spoke again.
“Harry, I’d jump in one hundred freezing lakes for you if you needed it,” she said finally.
“I’ll make sure it doesn’t come to that,” he said with a small smile.
Chapter 4: Chapter 4
Fred and George dropped by again for dinner that night. Harry suspected they were checking up on Mrs. Weasley, who was still distraught about the Christmas kerfuffle with Percy.After dinner, they moved to the living room. Mr. Weasley settled into his favorite chair, reading The Daily Prophet while Mrs. Weasley curled up by the fire with her knitting. Harry watched Ron and Ginny play a game of wizard chess from the couch.
Fred and George appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and beckoned to Harry. He rolled off the couch and met them in the kitchen.
“Here,” said George, tossing a glass ball the size of a tennis ball to Harry.
Harry caught it easily and examined it. It was glass with swirling gray smoke inside it, like a small crystal ball. It reminded him of Neville’s Remembrall that turned red when the holder had forgotten something.
“Why were you showing off for our sister yesterday?” asked Fred suddenly.
“What? I don’t know what you’re--” Harry broke off. He’d tried to set the glass ball down on the table, but it was stuck to his hand. He opened his hand and shook it, but it stuck to his palm like a magnet.
“Why won’t this come off?” Harry demanded.
“You have to answer the question,” said George.
Harry’s stomach turned. He did not want to talk about this.
“I wasn’t showing off,” he said, trying to keep his voice even. The ball glowed red in his hand, still stuck.
“I suggest you tell us the truth, or that ball will do more than just change color,” said Fred with a mischievous grin.
“What have you done?” Harry was starting to panic. Fred and George’s inventions were never dangerous, but they could certainly be embarrassing. The ball had returned to its original foggy gray color.
“We’re testing our newest invention, the Veritaball,” explained George. “When asked a question, the holder cannot release the ball until he’s given an answer. If he tells the truth, the ball will glow green and he can release it. If he lies or tries to deceive the questioner in any way, the ball will glow red and he will have one more try to tell the truth.”
“What happens if he lies twice?” asked Harry uneasily.
“You don’t want to chance it,” said Fred. “Just tell us.”
What could the twins have in mind? Would his hair turn colors? Would he get boils all over his face?
“Is it permanent?” asked Harry stiffly, imagining boils all over his face for the rest of his life.
The twins folded their arms and said nothing, identical grins on their faces.
“Er, she mentioned playing Quidditch with Dean,” Harry started. He still couldn’t release the ball, so he continued. “And I wanted to make sure it was clear that--that she knew I was better.”
The ball glowed green, and he immediately set the ball on the kitchen table before they could ask him another question.
Fred and George doubled over with laughter. Harry felt his face heat up.
“You’ve had your fun. The least you can do is not tell anyone,” said Harry. He did not want to talk about this ever again.
“Tell you what,” said Fred, still chuckling. “Just because you’ve been such a good sport, we won’t tell anyone, and we’ll never ask you about it again.”
“Yes, we won’t tell anyone that you’re flirting with our sister,” said George with mock seriousness.
“I was not flirting with her--” Harry’s voice died in his throat when the door swung open.
“Flirting with who?” Ron had just walked in, followed by Ginny. “I just beat Ginny again,” he added smugly.
“Narrowly,” muttered Ginny.
“We’re talking about that Muggle girl you were flirting with at the pub,” said Fred. He tossed Ron the ball. Ron’s ears turned slightly pink.
Ginny jumped away from Ron like a cat who’d seen water. She clearly knew better than to trust Fred and George.
Ron caught it with a look of suspicion on his face. “What is this?” he asked.
“Who is your favorite--” started George.
“DROP IT, RON!” yelled Ginny, grabbing a cup and running toward him. Where had she been when Fred and George had cornered him with the ball?
Ron let out a yelp and dropped the ball like he’d been burned. It rolled toward the table, and Ginny trapped it under the cup. They both backed away from the cup slowly. Ginny’s eyes darted around the room as if checking for other threats.
Harry couldn’t help laughing with the twins. Once they’d calmed down, George explained how it worked.
“So what happens if you lie twice?” asked Ron, still skeptical.
“You burp up slugs for 30 seconds,” said Fred. “And if you don’t want to answer a question, you can say, ‘I’ll take the slugs’ and you’ll immediately burp up slugs.”
Harry glared at Fred. He’d certainly had chosen to burp slugs instead of admit he’d been showing off to Ginny.
“That’s disgusting!” exclaimed Ginny, grimacing. “I don’t want any part of your slugs or secrets.”
“It’s a homage to our youngest brother,” said George.
Ron shrugged. “I guess that’s not the worst thing that could happen.”
“It’s not so bad after awhile. We’ve tested it quite a bit on ourselves already,” said Fred.
“But we’re ready to start testing more widely now,” said George.
“Fancy a go?” said Fred, picking up the ball from under the cup.
“No way! I’m not letting you have free reign to pepper me with questions,” said Ginny defiantly.
Harry was not surprised at her resistance; the Veritaball made her vulnerable to the very thing she hated: sharing confidences.
“What if we made it a game where only the winner could ask questions?” suggested Fred.
“Depends on how easy it is for me to beat you…” said Ginny slowly, narrowing her eyes.
“Preferably a Muggle game that I know how to play,” said Harry. He didn’t want to be at a disadvantage if he were the only one learning the game.
“What about Muggle poker? Fred and I have played it a few times at Hogwarts,” suggested George.
Harry doubted that they had only played “a few times.” The twins would never agree to make themselves vulnerable like this unless they thought their chances of winning were good.
“Does everyone know how to play?” asked Ron. Harry and Ginny nodded. “Are you sure, Ginny? I’ve never seen you play.”
“I’ve played at Hogwarts, too,” she said mildly. “Don’t worry about me.”
Harry thought it was very unlikely that Ginny knew how to play poker as well as the others. She wasn’t taking Muggle Studies and she’d grown up in the wizarding world, so there were very few opportunities for her to become a skilled player. Ron may have limited experience as well, but he was an excellent chess player and had a great mind for strategy games.
“Alright! We’ll play 5-card draw,” George clapped his hands together with a smile. “We’ll need to play with chips, so that everyone has the proper incentives.”
He waved his wand and a deck of cards and a few stacks of poker chips appeared on the kitchen table as everyone took a seat.
Fred started to divide the chips while George carried on, “Ante will cost five chips, and it won’t change throughout the game. The winner of each hand will get to ask anyone a question with the Veritaball, but they’ll have to put up another five to ask the question.”
“We have to win and then pay more?” groaned Ron.
“It’s to keep the game balanced in case George and I dominate,” said Fred, winking.
“Each winner can only ask one question, even if they can pay for more,” continued George. “If you go bankrupt, there will be a bankruptcy round where every player can ask you one question for free. Then, we’ll give you more chips to get back in the game.”
“Why have a penalty for bankruptcy? Isn’t losing bad enough?” asked Ron.
“The ante and the bankruptcy round deters players from skating through the game by folding every hand,” explained George.
“Fair enough, but what’s to prevent someone from refusing to answer any questions by taking the slugs?” asked Ron.
“Yuck! Why would anyone want to do that?” asked Ginny with a look of horror.
But Fred nodded thoughtfully. “Yes, we you’re right, Ron. We need to motivate players to actually answer the question,” he said.
“How about the first person to burp up slugs three times loses?” suggested Ron.
“Loser has to agree to be our test subject for our next invention,” added George.
“But won’t that encourage other players to ask more embarrassing questions?” asked Harry, unsure that he wanted to be involved in this game anymore.
“Watching each other squirm is what makes it fun!” laughed Fred. Ron and George nodded.
“I don’t know why you’re agreeing to this, Ron,” said Ginny. “You’re in for a whole night of questions about Hermione and Lavender.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide,” scoffed Ron.
Ginny and Harry exchanged glances, turning away quickly to suppress a laugh.
“Alright, let’s get to it,” said George, rubbing his hands together and sitting up straighter in his seat.
The game seemed simple enough to Harry. While he hadn’t played poker in a long time, he understood the basic strategy and the hands. He felt a little uneasy at the prospect of being asked questions with the Veritaball, but he suspected the Weasleys would go after each other more aggressively than they would Harry. Yesterday’s incident was already off the table. The rest of his secrets were about Voldemort--the lessons with Dumbledore, the prophecy, his visions--and he knew the Weasleys would never press him on that subject.
Fred started to deal the cards.
“Wait, one more thing,” said Ginny. They all turned to look at her.
“Anything we say in this game stays in this game,” she said sharply.
“Agreed,” said Ron while Fred, George, and Harry nodded earnestly.
“Ante up!” proclaimed Fred. And the game had begun…
~*~
Ginny won the first hand with most of the table folding. Harry only had a pair of twos, but he’d stayed in the game since he figured it was better than nothing.
“Not hard to beat a pair of twos,” Ron muttered.
“It is when you fold,” smirked Ginny. She picked up the ball and handed it to Fred. He took it from her enthusiastically and Ginny giggled with excitement. Harry leaned forward in anticipation of what she would ask him.
“When you lived here at the Burrow over the summers, how did you sneak girls into your room at night without Mum and Dad finding out?” she asked with a mischievous grin.
Harry turned to Fred and George, slightly shocked that they’d had the gall to try something so risky right under Mrs. Weasley’s nose.
Her question had wiped the grin off of Fred’s face. George turned away, laughing.
“You’ve been holding out on me! Both of you!” snapped Ron.
“Who would you be sneaking in? Lav-Lav?” asked Ginny giggling.
Ron shot her a dirty look, but said nothing.
“I can’t have my little sister knowing how to sneak her boyfriends into the house,” said Fred, shaking his head and conjuring a bucket with his wand. “I’m taking the slugs--” He immediately started heaving slugs into the bucket.
“That’s why I’ve switched to dating Ron’s friends. It’s a lot easier to get them into the house if Ron invites them over first,” said Ginny, turning to Ron.
“Are you talking about Dean? I would never invite that tosser into our home,” spat Ron, disgusted.
Harry wholeheartedly agreed. Dean was a nice guy, but he didn’t want to have to watch him grope Ginny over the holidays, too. It was bad enough watching it at Hogwarts.
“I guess you’ll have to trade him out for one of Ron’s other friends,” teased George as he lightly patted Fred on the back, who was still retching.
Ginny shot him a look, but said nothing. Unbidden, an image popped into Harry’s mind of him quietly opening Ginny’s bedroom door at night…
He shook himself. George had clearly not been referring to Harry. Ron would not appreciate his best mate going after his sister… and Fred and George would probably feel the same.
Fred dealt another hand. Harry didn’t fare much better this round, and Ginny won again. She handed the ball to George, who was directly on her right.
“It’s time to clear my name. Who sent Harry the singing Valentine?” she asked.
George answered immediately, “It was Fred’s idea, and I wrote the poem.” The ball glowed green.
“No! I thought it was Ginny!” exclaimed Ron, jerking his head from George to Ginny.
“That was part of the prank,” said George, shrugging.
“I’m hurt that you would think my poetry is that bad, Ron,” said Ginny with a tone of mock offense. Harry gave her a sheepish look. “Not you, too?”
“Of course they thought it was you! We’re that good!” interjected Fred, dealing another round of cards.
To Harry’s surprise, Ginny won another round. She’d bet big, and everyone had folded. Harry had thought Ron would have the edge since he was such a good chess player, but clearly he had underestimated Ginny.
“What did you have?” asked Ron, reaching for her cards.
“You don’t get to see if everyone folds,” she said quickly, sweeping the cards back into the deck.
“How are you so good?” he pressed, furrowing his brow.
“You’ve got to win the right to ask,” she replied as she handed him the ball.
“Blimey,” groaned Ron. He took the ball and looked at her as if ready to receive a sentencing. Harry could think of at least a dozen of embarrassing questions Ginny could ask, most of them about Hermione. He wondered if she would take a jab at him in front of Fred and George.
“When are you going to start speaking to Hermione again?” she asked straightforwardly.
“When she apologizes!” exclaimed Ron, temper flaring. The ball turned bright red almost instantly.
“What the--why is this thing turning red? I told the truth--” Ron retched and burped slugs onto the floor.
“Bloody defective--” he choked, heaving more slugs on the ground.
Fred Vanished the slugs with his wand and handed Ron the bucket. He reached over and patted Ron on the back reassuringly as he retched some more.
In all honesty, Harry felt that Ginny’s question was fair. Ron and Hermione were his best friends and their latest argument was hard on everyone, especially Harry.
“The ball is clearly not defective because you lied,” explained George.
“Then what qualifies as the truth?” asked Ron crossly. He seemed to be done burping up slugs.
“The truth is something that the holder truly believes,” said Fred. “There can be many truths and gray areas for one question, but the holder only needs to give one truth.”
“Well, I truly believe that thing is broken,” said Ron darkly.
Fred dealt again. Only George folded this time, and Fred emerged victorious with a full house. He slammed down his cards with a loud, “HA!”
“Finally. Anyone but Ginny...” muttered Ron. He threw his cards into the middle as Fred raked in his chips.
Fred turned to Ginny and rolled the ball to her. “Your turn, dear sister.”
Ginny took the ball cautiously. “I’m ready.”
“How did you get so good at poker?”
Harry supposed this was the question on everyone’s mind.
Ginny considered his question for a moment. “Ok, I’ll give you the whole story as long as you remember that we agreed nothing I say will leave this group.”
They all murmured in agreement. Harry leaned forward. He knew this was going to be good.
Ginny took a deep breath. “Neville taught me how to play during my second year. He learned about it in his Muggle Studies class and wanted to try it--”
“That’s not how you got good though. All the Muggle Studies students play! Answer the question,” interrupted Ron.
“I’m getting there!” she shot back. “Anyway, after that, we both started playing with other students in the common room. I was pretty good then, but I really improved after I started playing for money.”
“You were fleecing Hogwarts students?” asked Fred incredulously. George guffawed.
“No, I started playing monthly at the Hog’s Head with a few of the regulars. I saw them playing during my first Hogsmeade visit in third year, and I asked to join,” she replied.
The ball glowed bright green in her hand as she spoke. Harry’s jaw dropped. He couldn’t believe this was possible, yet the ball was confirming her story. He saw Ron and the twins were gaping at her, too.
“That’s a really dodgy bar…” Ron started.
“Blimey, our sister was in a Hog’s Head gambling ring...” mumbled Fred, awestruck.
“How did you even get out of the castle?” asked George. He looked both shocked and confused at the same time.
“That’s another question. But I’ll answer it if you pay up since you might not win any hands,” she said smugly.
“Gladly,” said George, throwing a chip into the middle of the table. The ball had turned back to gray.
“Sneaking out of the castle was the hardest part,” she told them. “None of your secret ways out of the castle would work because Filch knew about them. And I couldn’t use the tunnel to Honeydukes because they’d be closed when the game was over. So I went to the Room of Requirement and asked it to give me a secret way to the Hog’s Head, just to see if it would work.”
The ball glowed green again, but this didn’t make sense to Harry.
“How’d you know about the Room of Requirement in your third year? We didn’t tell you about it until your fourth year,” he asked.
Ginny raised her eyebrows at him. “Pay up.”
Harry tossed a five-chip into the pot. “Go on.”
“Tom Riddle took me there in first year,” she said shortly. Harry immediately regretted asking. The ball glowed green.
“Why did he--” began Ron.
“Don’t, Ron,” Harry snapped automatically. The twins gave Ron identical warning looks.
Ginny ignored them and decided to continue, even though she’d answered the question. Harry sensed she wanted to move on.
“The Room of Requirement showed me a tunnel that went straight to the Hog’s Head,” she said. “It came out through a portrait hole behind a portrait of a girl in the barkeep’s office. He caught me climbing out and threatened to tell Dumbledore, so I told him I’d give him a few Galleons per visit to keep quiet. He took a liking to me after that and even agreed to watch my back on nights when the bar got rowdy.”
“You bribed the barkeep?” asked George, looking impressed.
“Yes,” she said evenly. “I came almost monthly up until this year. I stopped going because it doesn’t feel safe sneaking out now with Voldemort back in power.”
There was a shudder around the table as she said the name. Harry was both impressed and shocked at her story. She certainly wasn’t exaggerating when she said she liked adventures at Slughorn’s party…
Ron opened his mouth to speak again, but Ginny held up her hand. “That’s it. I gave you far more than you earned.”
Fred dealt cards, muttering, “I wish I’d known we’d be playing with a card shark.”
To nobody’s surprise, Ginny won the next round. Ron groaned.
Ginny rolled the ball across the table to Harry, a small smile playing at her mouth. Harry felt his stomach clench in anticipation. Ginny had asked only three questions, yet already two people had burped slugs. He picked up the ball and met her eyes, not liking his chances.
“Harry…” she said slowly. “Why did you Confund Dean at Slughorn’s party?”
The bottom dropped out of his stomach. He couldn’t deny it now.
“Wait, Harry cursed Dean?” blurted Ron. He turned to Harry with a confused look on his face.
“I didn’t Confund--” Harry broke off when he saw the ball turn bright red.
“Try again, Harry,” prodded Ginny. She folded her arms and studied him as he squirmed.
Harry’s heart quickened as he racked his brain for a reason that was both true and innocuous. He hadn’t really thought about why he’d Confunded Dean. He’d just wanted to talk to Ginny alone…
But that was not the inclination of someone who was just a friend and her brothers would see right through it. He considered taking the slugs, but then the others would all be left to assume the worst. What if they thought he fancied Ginny? Would Ron turn on him the way he’d turned on Dean? Would Ginny laugh in his face now that she was over him and the tables were turned?
And what about the fact that Harry didn’t even fancy Ginny? Why take the slugs and give them a reason to think he did?
“You can take the slugs if you need to, Harry,” Fred said, nudging Harry with his elbow and winking.
Nettled, Harry decided that he would not take the slugs. He knew he could count on Ron to be outraged when he found out what Dean had been doing...
“I Confunded Dean because I wanted to talk to you without him hanging all over you,” Harry said. He had tried to keep his tone casual, but he sensed that Ginny picked up on the tension in his voice. The ball glowed green, but Harry thought it seemed a bit fainter this time.
“Thank you, Harry,” she replied. Her face was unreadable, but her brothers exploded all at once.
“Dean was doing what?” Ron flared.
“Was he groping her?” George stood up, looking ready to tear Dean limb from limb.
“You should have slugged him!” Fred raged, banging his fist on the table.
“He just had his arm around me and gave me a kiss. That was it!” protested Ginny. This calmed her brothers, but their expressions remained sour.
“How nauseating,” muttered Ron.
“Funny coming from the only person at this table who habitually makes out with his girlfriend everywhere,” she responded acidly.
Harry and the twins laughed. Ron glared at them as if they’d committed mutiny.
“I think we can all agree that Harry did what any reasonable person would have done in that situation,” said Ron, thumping Harry on the back. Harry heaved a sigh of relief.
“Does that mean I get to Confund Lav-Lav?” asked Ginny. Ron ignored her.
“Who did Harry take to the party?” asked George, suddenly turning to Harry.
Ron broke in before Harry could answer. “Luna...as a friend! He could have had any girl!”
Harry felt his face going red. He didn’t want to take just any girl…
“I bet the girls are falling all over you now that the Ministry has come over to your side,” said Fred, almost enviously.
“I haven’t noticed anything,” muttered Harry, wishing he would just deal the next hand.
“Do let us know how our love potions work when one of them finally sneaks one past you,” said George with a wink.
Harry gave George a withering look. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to help you with that.”
“Not if you lose the game,” quipped Fred. Harry’s stomach turned at the idea of letting the twins test a love potion on him.
“Looks like Harry’s bankrupt,” said Ginny, changing the subject.
Harry cringed as he realized that he was out of chips. He’d bet big trying to win the last hand. He thought his full house was a great hand, but it wasn’t enough to beat Ginny’s four of a kind. Still holding the ball, he took a deep breath and braced for a barrage of questions.
“We’ll go clockwise, starting with me,” said Fred without missing a beat. “So if Luna was just a friend, who did you really want to take to the party?”
“Nobody,” said Harry immediately. To Harry’s surprise, the ball turned red.
“Honestly! There was nobody I wanted to take to the party at the time!” he said, a note of desperation in his voice. The ball glowed green, and Harry relaxed his grip as he realized he’d been squeezing it so hard his knuckles were white.
“At the time!” repeated George. “Who do you wish you’d taken to the party now?”
Harry tensed up again. “Nobody!” he said defensively. The ball turned red almost instantly. “Your ball is broken!”
“No, you’re lying. It’s clearly working as designed,” protested George.
Harry was getting annoyed with this line of questioning. He didn’t fancy anyone before the party, and his feelings certainly hadn’t changed after the party. He was sure Fred and George wanted to turn his lapse in judgement that landed him in the lake as evidence that he fancied their sister.
“I can’t imagine who it could be because I don’t fancy anyone--” Suddenly Harry’s stomach contracted painfully, and he felt something large moving up his esophagus very fast. Without thinking, he doubled over and coughed violently, his mouth full of the putrid taste of slugs. It was so repulsive it made him retch more.
“Harry! You’re getting slugs all over the cards!” complained Ron, leaning away from the table.
“Clearly--broken!” Harry gasped between heaves.
“Denial still qualifies as lying,” said Fred chuckling. He Vanished the slugs from the table and handed Harry the bucket. “Your turn, Ginny! We’ve almost got him!”
Harry buried his head in the bucket as he felt another wave of slugs. He grabbed the ball and braced himself for the next question.
“What kind of…uh,” Ginny stopped.
“Go on, ask him about who he fancies. We might be able to get burp slugs twice!” said Fred, grinning.
Harry coughed a few more slugs into the bucket. The rim of the bucket felt cold on his forehead.
“What kind of...drinks did you have at the party?” asked Ginny lamely.
“What are you doing?” demanded George, smacking his hand on the table.
Harry sat up abruptly, ready to seize the opportunity. “Butterbeer and mead!” he coughed. The ball turned bright green. He gave one more heave before setting the bucket down.
“Since when do you go easy on anyone?” asked Ron, turning to Ginny. He looked thunderstruck.
“He was still vomiting! We can lay off him!” she groused. “You can finish him off now that he’s done.”
Ron didn’t waste any time. He rounded on Harry: “Since you won’t give us a name, what are three things about the girl you wish you’d taken to the party?”
Harry wiped his mouth on his sleeve as he grasped wildly for an answer.
“There isn’t anyone--” Harry stopped abruptly. The ball had turned red almost instantly.
He paused. Clearly the ball thought there was someone in his mind. Perhaps if his answer was general enough, he could get it to turn green. What were three things that were generally true about the average Hogwarts girl?
“She likes…chocolate,” Harry began tentatively, remembering that Ginny had asked for a Chocolate Cauldron at the party. Carefully avoiding Ginny’s eyes, he checked the ball to see if it would accept his answer. It faintly started to glow green, but he still couldn’t release it. Harry felt his face heating up.
“Just like almost every girl at Hogwarts,” teased Fred. Harry ignored him.
“Quidditch…” continued Harry. He could never fancy a girl who didn’t like Quidditch...
“What kind of girl doesn’t like Quidditch?” asked Ron, rolling his eyes.
“Hermione doesn’t like Quidditch,” supplied Fred.
“She likes watching Quidditch. She just doesn’t like to play,” corrected Ginny.
“Well, we know it’s not Hermione, so that’s irrelevant,” said Ron, sounding irritated.
“You still owe us one more, Harry,” pressed George.
Harry was struggling to find a third thing that was vague enough to keep them guessing.
“We don’t have all day, mate,” said Ron.
Harry met Ginny’s eyes across the table. He’d enjoyed talking to her more than anyone else that night. He’d even Confunded Dean, so he could get more time with her… She had talked about how much she loved--
“Adventures,” Harry blurted. The ball turned green, and he set it on the table. He was glad to finally be done with what felt like an interrogation.
“Adventures? What does that mean?” asked Ron, confused.
“Do you mean she’s daring? Is she a Gryffindor?” questioned Fred.
Harry bit his lip and shrugged. He wasn’t going to give them anything.
“I don’t know any girls who like adventures or have even been on adventures before,” mused Ron, furrowing his brow.
“Girls go on adventures!” snapped Ginny.
“Name one adventure you’ve been on recently!” challenged Ron.
“Really, Ron? Are you serious right now?” asked Ginny, looking dumbfounded. Harry felt her eyes sweep around the table, but didn’t dare look up.
“Yesterday I pulled your best friend out of a freezing lake!” she said, clearly irritated.
“But is that an adventure or a horrible accident?” asked George skeptically.
“I’ll count it. It was unusual and hazardous, as are most adventures,” conceded Fred.
“Ron, I also went with you and Harry to the Department of Mysteries,” she continued.
“Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about that,” said Ron.
“And you’ve probably also forgotten about the Chamber,” she said sourly.
“Alright, alright. Point taken. You’ve been on adventures,” said Ron, relenting. “But it sounds like you don’t go on any adventures without Harry.”
Ron’s last comment hit a little too close to the truth. Harry looked up from the table abruptly.
“You’re assuming that all of this is about a real person,” Harry grumbled, hoping to cover his tracks now that he wasn’t holding the ball. “I told you, the ball is broken. I just didn’t want to burp up more slugs.”
This seem to settle the matter for the time being. Fred gave Harry more chips and dealt everyone a new hand of cards. Harry decided he would be more cautious with his betting from now on.
Ron won the round and celebrated by punching the air and taunting the group. He grabbed the ball with zeal and handed it to Ginny with a huge grin.
“Why’d you go easy on Harry when he was bankrupt?” he demanded.
“I went easy on you, too, you know,” she said defensively. The ball remained gray.
“That’s not an answer,” Ron returned.
“But not untrue,” Fred chimed in.
“And yet he still ended up burping slugs…” added George.
Ginny sighed audibly. “Because Harry clearly wasn’t going to answer your questions.” The ball turned red.
“Wrong! You don’t really believe that,” said Ron.
She ran her fingers through her hair, clearly agitated. She closed her eyes and spoke quickly, “Because I didn’t want to know who he wanted to go to the party with.”
She opened her eyes, and Harry made eye contact with her for a moment. She turned away. Ron and the twins said nothing. They clearly hadn’t expected this answer.
Why wasn’t she curious like the others? She certainly wasn’t indifferent toward him. Was it possible that it bothered her to hear about other girls he fancied?
Harry did not have time to ponder this further. Fred had dealt the cards, and they were starting again.
Chapter 5: Chapter 5
Ginny had started to play very badly. She raised quickly and aggressively. She fidgeted impatiently while she waited for others to make their bets. Nobody folded this time. It was clear Ginny had a bad hand, and everyone wanted the chance to beat her.When they laid out their cards, George won with just a pair of fives. Harry expected him to hand the ball to Ginny. Ron had her rattled with the last question, and there was a high possibility they could get her to burp slugs if they kept the pressure on.
But George tossed Harry the ball. He caught it awkwardly.
“Why do you think Ginny doesn’t want to know who you fancy?” asked George, shooting Ginny a impish grin.
“I have no idea,” said Harry immediately. The ball turned red, and he groaned loudly. What else did this ball know that he didn’t?
“Maybe she already knows?” he guessed, wondering aloud more to himself than the group. He braced for more slugs, but to his surprise, the ball glowed a weak green.
“Ha! I got it!” said Harry, triumphant.
“That doesn’t mean she actually knows,” corrected Fred. “It just means that, on some level, you think she does.”
Ginny harrumped and shook her head as Fred dealt another hand. She and Ron folded, and Fred won with a three of a kind. He rolled the ball across the table to Ginny, who took it bracingly.
“Who do you think Harry fancies?” he asked with a small smile.
Harry stiffened. Ginny was the only one who knew about their conversation about the adventures… What if she thought--incorrectly, of course--that he fancied her?
But Ginny rolled her eyes at the question. “I obviously don’t know that,” she said flippantly. The ball remained gray.
“I didn’t ask if you knew. I asked who you think,” said Fred reprovingly.
“Harry doesn’t fancy anyone. He said so himself,” she said shortly. The ball turned red. Ginny shifted uncomfortably in her seat.
“The ball said that was a lie when Harry said it, and now we know that you didn’t believe him either,” said Fred.
“Then the Veritaball must know something I don’t!” said Harry indignantly.
Fred and George shook their heads, chuckling. Harry grimaced as he realized that nobody believed him, even Ginny.
“Maybe you should just take the slugs, Ginny,” said Ron, unable to suppress a smile.
“I’m not letting you goad me into taking the slugs and giving up my lead,” said Ginny hotly. “Based on what Harry said, I think he fancies an adventurous Quidditch player who likes Chocolate Cauldrons.”
The ball glowed a faint green, but Harry didn’t relax. He’d never said anything about Chocolate Cauldrons...
“She didn’t even give a name! This thing really is rubbish!” complained Ron.
“Doesn’t matter. She was truthful about what she believes,” said Fred with a hint of disappointment in his voice. He dealt the next hand with a bit less gusto than he had before.
Ginny’s answer was quite a blow for the twins. They’d had her rattled, but weren’t able to finally get her to burp slugs.
They played the next hand in silence with everyone folding except Harry and Ginny. Ginny beat him with a pair of aces against his pair of threes.
She picked up the ball and handed it to George.
“How jealous were you when Fred took Angelina to the Yule Ball?” she asked. There was no doubt that she was going for slugs.
“Jealous isn’t the word--” George stopped talking when the ball turned red. He flicked his wand, and the bucket floated into his hands.
“I’ll take the slugs,” he groaned. He started hurling almost immediately. Fred looked at his brother with a pained expression.
“I’m sorry, brother,” he said in a rare moment of seriousness.
Ginny grabbed the deck and dealt another hand while George continued to heave. She won the next round handily.
She tossed the ball to Fred.
“Did you know George had a crush on Angelina when you asked her to the ball?” she asked. Harry cringed inwardly. Ginny was not pulling any punches.
“I don’t recall,” said Fred. He sighed as the ball turned red.
Ron let out a whistle, and Ginny raised her eyebrows expectantly.
“Alright, I had a hunch, but I wasn’t sure until I asked her,” he said quietly. George opened his mouth to say something, but must have thought better of it. He closed his mouth and sat in a stony silence.
Fred dealt another hand, and Ginny won again. She handed Ron the ball. Her next victim.
“When are you going to ask Hermione out?” she said bluntly. Harry was sure this would end in slugs.
Ron’s ears turned red immediately. Fred and George both sniggered. It seemed they’d decided to set aside Fred’s betrayal to indulge in Ron’s humiliation. Harry wondered if Ron was going to explode.
“You don’t have to answer,” Harry mumbled to Ron.
“You might as well save yourself the embarrassment and take the slugs now,” warned George.
“I’m happily dating Lavender--” Ron started. The ball turned red instantly.
He rounded on Ginny. “I don’t know why you would ask--” He coughed abruptly, and the slugs came pouring out of his mouth and onto the floor.
“Ron doesn’t get this game,” Fred laughed. He Vanished the slugs and passed Ron the bucket.
But Ron rallied quickly. He won the next hand, narrowly with a high card over Fred. He dropped the ball in Ginny’s lap flippantly.
“How come you didn’t tell Mum and Dad about Dean?” he demanded. Harry was wondering the same thing.
“Because I thought you would tell them for me,” she said bitterly. The ball turned red.
“Liar!” taunted Ron. He leaned back in his chair haughtily.
Ginny looked down at her hands. Harry thought she might be contemplating taking the slugs. But then she looked up with renewed confidence.
“I wasn’t sure if Dean would be a serious boyfriend, so I didn’t tell them,” she said in a calm voice. The ball turned green, and she rolled it to the middle of the table.
“Is he a serious one now?” prodded Fred.
“I don’t have to answer that,” she said firmly, folding her arms.
“But you told them about Michael,” said Ron. It wasn’t a question.
“I told Mum because he was my first boyfriend,” she said dismissively.
“Let’s hope there’s no need to tell them about Dean,” he replied.
“Ron, you’re the only one who doesn’t like Dean here,” she snapped. Harry suspected Ron had touched a nerve.
“How’s that? I’m not the one who cursed him!” he retorted, his eyes darting to Harry.
“Since when is a Confundus Charm considered a nasty curse?” shot Harry. He was not going to let Ron drag him into this.
“I’m just saying that I never lifted a wand against him…” said Ron, raising his eyebrows.
“That doesn’t mean you didn’t want to,” muttered Ginny.
“But it sure says a lot that it’s actually Harry who’s been the most unsupportive of Dean,” argued Ron.
“What does it say, Ron?” demanded Ginny.
“If I were unsupportive, I’d have chosen something much worse than a Confundus Charm!” insisted Harry. He was willing to bet the Prince had written the perfect curse in the margin of his book...
“It says it’s not just brotherly instinct--” started Ron.
“No, it says you’re is reading too much into this,” interrupted Harry, hoping this would end the discussion. Fred seemed to get the hint and quickly dealt the next hand.
Harry picked up his cards and saw that he had a flush. In fact, he was one card away from a straight flush. Still fuming at Ron, he decided to try his luck on the draw…
He felt a rush of excitement when he drew a queen of hearts, completing his straight flush. He raised his bet slightly more than usual. He didn’t want to give it away. Ginny and Fred folded, but Ron and George stayed in.
Harry threw down his cards with excitement. He’d finally won a round! Ron groaned while the twins muttered congratulations to Harry.
He picked up the ball, slowly looking around the table. The boys leaned back in their chairs, none of them too concerned about any question Harry would ask. Ginny was leaning with an elbow on the table and her hand over her mouth. She rocked slightly back and forth, waiting.
He didn’t want pile onto her more, knowing that it could shift the focus back to him. He’d already taken the slugs once, and he wasn’t keen on doing it again.
Fred and George each had taken the slugs once, but Harry thought it wasn’t worth getting in the middle of their Yule Ball debacle unless he could end the game.
Ron had already burped slugs twice. Harry could probably end the game with a well-chosen question to Ron about Hermione, but he worried that it may indirectly escalate Ron’s current argument with her. Plus, if Ron told the truth, he could retaliate against Harry with more uncomfortable questions.
“Look at her, she’s seething about my last question!” sniggered Ron, motioning to Ginny.
“No, I’m not!” said Ginny hotly, her voice muffled with her hand still over her mouth.
Without thinking, Harry handed Ron the ball. “Why do you give Ginny such a hard time about her boyfriends?”
Ginny let out a derisive laugh. “He’s just going to burp more slugs! He’s only had two questions, and he’s taken the slugs both times."
Fred nodded in agreement. “Look on the bright side Ron--if you take the slugs, the game will be over and you won’t have to lie to us anymore.”
Ron was silent. His eyes focused on Ginny, clearly choosing his words carefully.
“Because…” he started slowly. “Because...they’re just not good enough for her.”
The ball glowed green. Ron dropped the ball on the table and pumped his fist, looking for congratulations. He had conquered the Veritaball.
Harry couldn’t help agreeing with Ron. What did Ginny see in someone like Dean or Michael? They seemed nice enough, but they certainly weren’t...adventurous. They would never take her to Egypt to explore the tombs or join her in the dodgy Hog’s Head for underage gambling…
“What’s so bad about Dean?” huffed Ginny, folding her arms. Some girls might have felt flattered by Ron’s response. Harry thought Ginny wasn’t one of those girls.
“Win the right to ask,” smirked Ron.
Ginny seemed to take that as a challenge. She bet big in the next hand, trying to force the others to fold. But Fred won the round with a flush, making a significant dent in her large pile of chips.
Fred tossed Ron the ball across the table. “What did you get Lav-Lav for Christmas?”
Ron looked nonplussed. “Nothing, obviously,” he said, as if this were a stupid question. The ball turned green.
Harry caught Ginny’s eye, suppressing a laugh while the twins guffawed.
“Why would I get her something? We’ve only just started...hanging out,” said Ron, annoyed.
“Is that what they’re calling it now?” teased Fred.
“You get Hermione gifts. Why wouldn’t you get one for Lavender, your real girlfriend?” asked Ginny.
“Hermione is different,” said Ron, as if it were obvious. “And I get Harry gifts, too!”
“But I’m not your girlfriend, mate,” said Harry with a laugh. He hoped this was a sign that Ron’s relationship with Lavender was nearing its end.
“Do yourself a favor and buy her a box of chocolates,” said Ginny, still giggling. “Most girls like chocolate.”
“Including Harry’s secret flame,” chortled George. Harry pointedly ignored him. He did not want to go down that road again.
Ginny lost big again in the next round, this time to Ron. He made a show of celebrating and dramatically handed her the ball.
“What did you get Harry for Christmas?” Ron asked Ginny.
“I saved his life!” she said hotly. The ball started to turn green, but went back to gray. She turned to Harry, “Did you expect a gift, too?”
“Yes, I’m still waiting for it,” said Harry with a grin.
“Don’t count on it,” she replied. The ball remained gray until she added, “I did not get Harry anything for Christmas.” It turned green, and she dropped it on the table with a loud clatter.
Fred dealt another hand. George and Ron folded after Ginny raised aggressively. But her luck still hadn’t turned--she lost to Fred’s straight. He snatched the ball from the middle of the table, guffawing at Ginny’s misfortune.
Harry grimaced when Fred handed him the ball.
“So we know that Ron thinks you’re not a fan of Ginny and Dean. What are your true feelings about their relationship?” he asked with a mischievous look in his eyes.
“I don’t have any feelings about--” Harry banged his fist on the table when he saw the ball turn red. He’d reacted impulsively, still annoyed by Ron’s assertion that he’d been hostile to Dean.
“Careful, Harry, you’ve already burped slugs once,” said Fred, a smile creeping on his face.
Ron folded his arms, leaning back in his chair with a smug smile.
“What does it matter what Harry thinks?” asked Ginny, annoyed.
“It matters because it forces him to choose a side between Ron and you,” said Fred.
“And that makes it the perfect opportunity to get him to burp slugs,” said George, catching on. He passed Harry the bucket. Harry took it grudgingly.
He could not see a scenario where he could make a truthful statement that didn’t reveal his disdain for their relationship. It was true that Harry was not thrilled about Ginny dating Dean. He agreed with Ron that Ginny could do better. He’d almost killed himself while showing off to Ginny, for the specific purpose of highlighting Dean’s shortcomings.
But Harry did not want to admit these things to Ginny. Even if she didn’t say it, Harry could see by her increasingly erratic playing that these personal questions and criticisms about Dean hurt her, and he didn’t want to be part of that.
Deciding that it would be better to say nothing, Harry sighed and said quietly, “I’d rather not say, so I’ll just take the slugs.” His stomach clenched and the familiar taste of mud and rot filled his mouth as he doubled over.
Fred and George high-fived and whooped. Harry and Ron had each burped slugs twice. The game would be over if either of them did it again.
Ron patted Harry on the back encouragingly as another wave of slugs came up.
Still chuckling, Fred dealt another hand. Ron and Harry folded, so it came down to Ginny and the twins. George won the hand by a hair -- both he and Fred had straights, but George’s was a 10-high and Fred’s was a 9-high.
Harry groaned as George handed him the ball. The twins were going to finish him off.
“Do you want Ginny to break up with Dean?” he asked.
“How is that not the same question?” asked Harry indignantly.
“This one is a yes or no question,” said George. Harry didn’t think this was a helpful answer. Directly across from him, Ginny buried her face in her hands.
Harry knew he wouldn’t be sorry to see the two of them break up. Dean wasn’t good enough for Ginny. She was too fun and daring and...Harry stopped himself. This was not what he wanted to say to the group.
He needed to say something that was true, but not revealing. He wasn’t going to let the twins beat him like this. He searched himself, thinking about what he really wanted for Ginny.
“Harry?” prodded George.
“It’s really up to her,” said Harry, trying to buy himself some time. The ball remained gray.
“Of course it is, but that doesn’t tell us what you want,” said Fred.
“But it’s a good reason to lay off!” spat Ginny.
Harry sighed, thinking hard. If he was honest with himself, he wanted Ginny--and really all of his friends--to be happy. He was drawn to her most when she was laughing, joking, or playing Quidditch.
“I want Ginny to do what makes her happy,” said Harry. “If that means breaking up with Dean, then yes. If that means staying with Dean, then no.” The ball glowed a weak green, and he dropped the ball roughly, letting it bounce a few times before it rolled to the middle of the table.
“Wow, Harry is good at this game,” said Fred in awe.
“Too bad he’s terrible at poker,” snorted George.
“Then why am I losing so bad?” asked Harry. He really didn’t think he was that bad, but he’d only won one hand so far.
“Isn’t it obvious?” asked Ginny. She sounded confused.
“Don’t listen to her,” said Fred hastily. “She’s on a losing streak.”
“No, I’m not,” retorted Ginny. “They just don’t want me to tell you.”
“She’s on tilt, Harry. We’ll bankrupt her if she keeps steaming like this,” added George, nodding in agreement with Fred. Harry had no idea what George meant.
“I’m not on tilt!” she snapped.
“Spoken like someone on tilt,” sniggered Ron, earning a withering look from Ginny.
“Harry,” she said loudly, “you’re losing because you aren’t folding enough. You’re bleeding chips on low probability hands. You might be able to force the others to fold if you were better at bluffing, but you push up your glasses every time you think you have a good hand.”
Harry pushed up his glasses absently while he considered her advice. He was a terrible Occlumens, so he supposed it wasn’t surprising that he was equally bad at bluffing.
“Why did you tell him that?” complained Ron.
“He asked!” said Ginny, putting her hands up and shaking her head.
Harry suspected that being “on tilt” had something to do with the fact that Ginny went bankrupt on the next hand. She went all in, and George beat her with a straight flush.
“Oh, how the mighty have fallen!” cackled George. Ginny buried her face in her hands and groaned.
George rolled the ball to her. She picked it up with a sour look on her face.
“What do you not want us to ask you for the bankruptcy round?” he asked to appreciative guffaws from Ron and Fred. He handed her the bucket before she answered.
“I’m taking the slugs,” she said wearily and disappeared under the table. George walked over to her and held her hair back.
“Thanks,” Harry heard her say weakly between heaves.
“It’ll be over soon, Ginny,” said Ron in what might have been a flimsy attempt to comfort her.
When she resurfaced, Ron handed her the ball for her first bankruptcy question.
“Why did you break up with Michael Corner?” he said.
“I already told you ages ago that he didn’t like Gryffindor beating Ravenclaw at Quidditch and got sulky, so I ditched him and he ran off to comfort Cho instead,” said Ginny in a bored tone, as though she’d said it many times before. She let out a soft “Oh!” when the ball turned red.
“No, that sounds right,” said Harry, thinking back to the Quidditch Cup game at the end of his fifth year. “I remember Ginny played Seeker that match and beat Cho to the Snitch. I told you that ball is broken!”
“And I do remember that Michael started dating Cho shortly after that,” added Ron.
“There’s a lie in there,” said Fred, shaking his head slowly. “Out with it or you’ll be burping slugs and tied with Ron and Harry for last place.”
Ginny looked thoughtful. “I guess I’ve said that lie so many times that I’d forgotten it wasn’t completely true,” she said with a shrug. The ball returned to gray.
“It’s true that Michael was upset about the match,” she continued. “But he ditched me -- not the other way around.”
Ginny looked down at the ball, turning it in her hands as it glowed bright green. Harry thought a Quidditch match was a silly reason to break up, especially with a girl like Ginny.
“I always knew he was a slimy git, but I didn’t know he was stupid too,” spat Ron.
“So my boyfriends are slimy for dating me, but stupid for dumping me? Sounds like they can’t ever win,” said Ginny heavily.
“Guess not,” shrugged Ron.
It was Harry’s turn to ask a question. He knew the twins were bound to ask Ginny more questions about her break up with Michael. She’d gone easy on him during his bankruptcy round, so he decided to return the favor.
“What’s it mean to be on tilt?” Harry asked curiously. Ron and the twins exploded.
“Really, Harry?” Ron rounded on him.
“Come on!” roared George.
“I wouldn’t know, Harry, since that’s never happened to me,” said Ginny smugly. The ball turned red.
“Merlin’s beard,” said Fred disbelievingly. “You’re bankrupt, Ginny. Seriously?”
“You’re really going to vomit slugs on this one?” said George, clearly shocked.
Ginny turned to Harry in a huff and said shortly, “It’s when you get frustrated and start making bad decisions in poker.”
The ball turned green. Harry nodded, silently agreeing with the others that Ginny was indeed playing “on tilt.”
“In your case, I would say frustrated is a bit of an understatement, but the ball has accepted your answer,” said Fred.
“Ok, my turn,” said George with a hint of excitement in his voice. He cleared his throat. “Why did Michael break up with you? It couldn’t have been over a Quidditch match.”
For a moment, it looked like Ginny was going to take the slugs. She pursed her lips and clenched her hands together on the table.
After almost a minute, she spoke: “I might have gloated a bit about how I’d snatched the Snitch right out from under Cho’s nose--”
“It was so brilliant!” exclaimed Ron. George shushed him.
“--and Michael thought I was being insensitive to Cho’s feelings,” she continued. “Somehow, it turned into an argument about how I never shared enough of my feelings with him.”
Ginny paused, looking at the ball. It had started to turn green, but had returned to gray. Harry held his tongue. He’d wanted to tell her that Michael should have been happy for her for pulling off a win. It had been an against-all-odds win for Gryffindor, and Ginny had led the way. Cho was bound to cry whether they won or lost...
“Go on,” urged George. Ginny sighed.
“He always complained that I didn’t confide in him enough,” she said indignantly. “But if I talked to everyone who asked about my feelings, I’d have no friends left. They’d all be scared away by the girl who let Voldemort take over her soul–”
“You told him about the diary?” asked Harry sharply.
“Merlin, no! I told him he’d never understand me even if I did open up, and he suggested I go confide in...” Ginny broke off, checking the ball again. It remained gray.
“Confide in who?” prodded Ron.
“Just--er, someone else,” she said stiffly. “Anyway, I told him to go comfort Cho, who was crying about losing the match and would be sure to appreciate his emotional openness. So he did. And that was that.”
The ball turned green, and Ginny let out a sigh of relief. Harry felt a surge of annoyance as he imagined Michael pressuring Ginny to tell him her secrets. He was beginning to think Dean was the lesser of the two evils. At least Dean didn’t demand that she share her every thought with him.
“What a git,” said George.
“I’ve got a few things I’d like to confide in him about,” muttered Fred darkly.
“He deserves Cho,” scoffed Ron. “They can cry about Quidditch together.”
It was Fred’s turn to ask Ginny a question. He hesitated for a moment, and then said gently, “So how much money did you win playing poker?”
Ginny looked at him gratefully. “About 1,000 galleons,” she replied. Harry’s jaw dropped.
“Whoa! You’ve been holding out on us! I guess you’ll have no problems buying a new broom,” exclaimed Ron.
“Where are you keeping all this money?” asked Fred, gobsmacked.
“Win the right to ask. No more freebies,” smirked Ginny.
Ginny made a comeback in the next round, winning easily with a flush. She picked up the ball with a grin. Harry avoided her eyes. He didn’t want to answer any more questions.
She handed it to George. Revenge for his latest question was sure to come swiftly.
“Does Ron know you asked Hermione to the Yule Ball?” she asked.
Harry and Ron both gaped at George. Fred avoided Ron’s eyes. Harry was sure he must have misheard Ginny.
“He does now. Thanks, sis,” said George, motioning to Ron. The ball turned green.
“What?” said Ron, finding his voice and turning pink in the ears. “Fred takes your crush, so you thought you’d go after my...my...f-friend?”
“You hadn’t asked her,” said George defensively.
“Do you fancy Hermione?!” demanded Ron.
“No, I thought we’d go as friends since--” George broke off and shot a dark look at Fred.
“And you didn’t think to ask me first?” asked Ron with a hint of anger in his voice.
“No, I didn’t want to go to the ball with you,” retorted George.
Ginny stifled a laugh. But Ron had clearly considered this a betrayal. Harry wondered if he’d have to contend with Ron not speaking to two people now.
Fred hastily dealt another hand, clearly eager to move on from this subject. Ron’s irritation seemed to help him focus, and he was able to induce everyone to fold with an aggressive raise.
Ron handed the ball to Ginny, who took it with narrowed eyes.
“Is Hermione really dating McLaggen?” he asked. Ron had already asked Harry this question at the beginning of the Christmas holidays, and he’d told him he didn’t know.
But this was only a half-truth. Harry was fairly certain that Hermione was not dating McLaggen. Even though she had only asked out McLaggen to irritate Ron, Harry wasn’t sure how far she was willing to take it.
Ginny reached under the table and grabbed the bucket. Harry had no doubt that Hermione had confided at least the same to Ginny as well.
“No, Ginny, just tell me,” pleaded Ron.
“You’ll have to ask Hermione because I’m taking the slugs,” she said calmly. She threw her long hair to the side and leaned over the bucket.
“You told us all that about getting ditched by Michael, yet you take the slugs for Hermione?” asked Ron, incredulous.
“Nobody wants to get in the middle of this, Ron,” said Harry. “If you just asked Hermione, I think you’d be pleasantly surprised.”
“Ask--her--nicely!” Ginny choked, her face still in the bucket.
“What aren’t you telling me, Harry? Don’t take her side!” shot Ron.
“Nothing! I’m just saying that you should talk to her--”
“I’ll talk to her when she apologizes!” retorted Ron.
“So--never--then…” breathed Ginny between heaves.
Once Ginny had finished burping slugs, Fred dealt everyone another hand. It seemed Ron was on tilt now. He bet big and lost to George, who only had a pair of jacks.
George tossed the ball to Harry, who caught it cautiously.
“Ok, I’m ending this game before it gets any uglier...” started George. “Harry, what aren’t you telling Ron about Hermione and McLaggen?”
“Nothing--” started Harry. The ball turned red as he felt a rush of indignation. He hadn’t lied when he told Ron he didn’t know if Hermione was dating McLaggen…
But there was also the fact that Hermione had Confunded McLaggen to ensure Ron made the Quidditch team. Harry knew he could never tell Ron about that.
“I knew it!” said Ron. Harry sighed.
“You know this just makes everything worse,” said Harry to George. “If I tell him, he’ll just argue with Hermione more. If I don’t tell him, I’ll lose the game and he’ll think I’m hiding something much worse than it is.”
“Don’t you love a good quandary?” smirked George.
“Don’t tell him, Harry,” said Ginny. “He already knows it, but he wants to drag us into it so he can be mad at Hermione for not telling him herself.”
“Don’t listen to her. She’s on Hermione’s side,” snapped Ron.
“No, Ron, if you’d stop being so thick, you’d see that we’re all actually on your side right now,” said Ginny, annoyed.
“Harry, who are you going to listen to? Your best mate or--”
“Or the person who pulled you out of the lake?” interrupted Ginny. She set the bucket on the table.
There was no way Harry was going to get in the middle of Ron and Hermione’s argument or crush Ron’s confidence about his Quidditch skills. He reached across the table and grabbed the bucket.
“Ron, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to ask Hermione,” he said, reaching across the table to grab the bucket. “Because I’m taking the slugs.”
As Harry heaved those vile slugs into the bucket, he took solace in the thought that he had kept those secrets to spare his friends’ feelings.
But what secrets had he spilled? Perhaps he did fancy Ginny. Maybe she even knew it. But he knew she wasn’t serious about Dean, and that was enough to him to hope that her heart could change again.
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A/N: HUGE thank you to everyone for all of the encouragement! This is my first multi-chapter fic, so it was a huge challenge for me. I’m considering writing an AU follow-up story about Ginny’s detentions if I can make it work.