|SIYE Time:8:43 on 16th January 2018|
Category: Pre-OotP, Alternate Universe
Characters:Albus Dumbledore, All, Draco Malfoy, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Nymphadora Tonks, Other, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape, Sirius Black
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, General, Humor, Romance
Warnings: Dark Fiction, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations, Violence/Physical Abuse
Summary: Harry had never friends, so he imagined one: a red haired girl he kept forgetting to name. Ginny imagined a shy boy with untidy hair and bright eyes, who knew nothing of magic, so she told him. He dreamt of a world of magic and of a girl who wanted to be his friend. She dreamt of a boy who loved to hear her voice, no matter what. Then dreams become a reality when Harry met Ginny.
Rating changed for later chapters.
*Nominated for 2014 November/December DSTA for Best New Story and Best Romance* *Nominated for 2016 January/Feburary DSTA for Best Comedy, Drama, and Romance*
Hitcount: Story Total: 98132; Chapter Total: 3695
I have left you! No, actually, I haven't, I've just forgotten you. Sorry. Please don't hex me. Have another chapter before you start cursing me.
Si x: A Revelation (Of Sorts)
Dinner was delicious, as usual. Harry was startled when Mum offered him as large a portion of the pot pie as she did to the rest of us, maybe even a bit larger. Ginny remembered how his aunt and uncle tended to give him the smallest portions possible. Harry took it gratefully, giving her a wide-eyed stare of amazement, which then turned into a wide grin after his first bite.
The conversation was only a little bit awkward. Percy was overly formal, almost to the point of hilarity. Fred and George had seemed to accept Harry's sudden insertion into the family, and were treating him like they had known him for years. Ginny knew Harry was glad they were treating him so nicely, and she herself was glad they weren't interrogating him about their connection. Ron and Harry had become fast friends; Bill was polite and his normal cheerful self, and Charlie was quiet, listening to Mum and Dad and to the rest of the conversations. Ginny knew was waiting for the right opportunity to say something about his dragon reserve job. Mum had quickly taken Harry under her wing, and Dad was only a little bit confused by Harry's presence.
After dinner, Mum sent Ginny, Harry, and Ron straight to bed. It was late, Mum said, and they had to be up early for their trip to Diagon Alley the next day.
Diagon what? Harry thought.
Diagon Alley, Ginny thought back. It's were we go to get our school supplies and other stuff we can't get in Muggle stores. It's in London.
Do I get to come?
Would it be all right for me to ask your mum if we stop by my grandmother's house first, just so we know she and my aunt are okay with me going to London?
“Mum!” Ginny called.
“Harry wants to make sure his grandmother and his aunt are okay with him going to Diagon Alley with us tomorrow, is that all right?”
“Of course, I was planning on asking them anyway.”
Ginny smiled at Harry. Harry smiled back.
“This is weird,” Ron said quietly.
“You two,” he said. “Telepathy, and all that.”
Ginny smirked at him. “You're jealous.”
“Ron, Ginny, stop that,” Mum said absently. Ron crossed his arms over his chest. Ginny shrugged at Harry.
Are you two always like that? Harry thought in her head.
Mostly. It's because we're always around each other. Things will be different when we get to Hogwarts, and he gets more friends.
All right. Do I count?
As... as his friend?
Course you do! Don't worry.
Harry smiled, but Ginny knew he was still worried. He couldn't help it. He was a worry wart.
Ginny laughed. Harry smiled for real. Ron gave them a confused look.
“Go on up to bed, you three,” Mum said.
Ginny pushed back her chair. She picked up her dishes, as Harry picked up his, and followed her into the kitchen. She set her dishes in the sink, took Harry's, and set them down as well. They passed Ron on their way out, but Ron caught back up with them on the stairs.
“See you tomorrow?” Ginny said, standing outside her door. Harry nodded. Ginny smiled, and gave him a quick hug. She waved to Ron, and stepped inside her room.
Haven't you ever been hugged before? Ginny thought.
No. It feels weird.
Ginny sighed. Mum will hug you nonstop.
Go to sleep.
Ginny giggled, as she heard on his side of her mind, Ron shutting the door to his room.
I'll talk to you later, all right? Harry said in her mind.
Ginny changed into her pajamas quickly, combed her fingers through her long hair quickly, and braided it. She climbed into bed, staring up at the ceiling.
Today had been very, very interesting.
That night, as the sliver of moon rose over the crooked house, a specter that had not been seen for ten years appeared in the fields behind the Weasley home. A woman, her skin the color of wood and hanging in wrinkles, pure white hair and yellow eyes like that of a hawk's. In one hand, she held the same carved staff, and the other hand rested on the head of a lean, black wolf. A crow rested on the staff, its beady eyes fixed on the overbalanced house. If anyone were to look on, they might think that they were on a stage, observing perhaps the Scottish Play or some other representation of hags playing witches.
“So they have met,” said the crow, its voice as only a crow's could be. “I told you, Night; I told you it would happen soon.”
The wolf let out a low bark that sounded almost like a scoff. The old woman stroked his ears in an effort to appease him. The crow turned an eye on the wolf.
“Have you no response, Night?” the crow croaked. It seemed the crow was speaking to the wolf. The wolf, Night, sniffed the air. “You CAN talk now, you know, no one can see.”
Night swished its tail and bared its teeth at the crow. The crow, however, rolled its eyes.
“Hush, Chaos,” said the old woman.
The crow, Chaos, looked down on Night, and then turned its back on it, fluffing its tail feathers. Night seemed startled, and then offended. The old woman sighed.
“We are here with a purpose,” she growled. “I will send you back if you do not behave.”
Chaos fluffed its feathers again. Night growled. The old woman raised her hand, a threatening eye upon both the wolf and the crow.
“Behave,” she repeated.
Night let out a sound that could only be described as a huff, and sat back on its haunches. Chaos ignored Night, and indeed the woman's threat. The woman sighed again, and turned her attention towards the house. Her eyes fixed on a window facing them, to the east. Her eyes narrowed, her vision focused on the window, and suddenly she could see into the room.
A young girl lay sleeping soundly in her bed. She lay facing away from the window, tucked under the blankets. The woman's withered lips turned up in a smile. Then her eyes moved up, to the window above. She saw two beds now, with two boys. One with vibrant red hair, the other with hair as dark as the wolf's pelt.
“And now, we watch,” the old woman said. She conjured a chair with a wave of her hand, and sank into it. Night lay down at her feet, Chaos fluttered onto the chair's high back, and the woman lay her staff down by Night. The woman rested her head against the back of her chair, and closed her eyes. She concentrated, focusing on the two children lying asleep in the house, and with a rush of magic, she saw their dreams, but the two powerful imaginations would not see her, for she was just looking in through a window into the world they had created in their dreams.
Both children sat by a pool, dipping their toes in the water. The old woman saw, amazed, a spectacular landscape, a waterfall pounding the pool into a rage of white water, green trees and bright vegetation gave the air that scent that only plants and fresh water could give. The children were not the only moving things, for the old woman could see, and sense, animals moving through the forest behind her. As she looked over the waterfall, a jet of steam issued from behind it. She could sense a cave, and in the cave, she sensed a dragon. The water vapor fell on her ancient face, cooling her skin and reminding her of days long since passed. The children sat facing her, enjoying the spray of the waterfall, chatting as though they did this every day.
“My lord,” the old woman whispered. Perhaps these two were more powerful than she thought. Certainly, they were more powerful than Night had thought. The dream felt unnaturally real, as though she really were standing by a waterfall; sensing a dragon resting behind it, a nest of Phoenixes in the forest, and a herd of centaurs running through the trees some five miles away. The old woman turned her attention on the children, and her ears caught their words.
“I'm hoping for a phoenix feather in my wand,” Ginevra said. “But unicorn tail hair would be nice too, I suppose.”
“Would I get a wand tomorrow?” Harry said. Ginevra seemed to ponder this a moment.
“I'm sure Mum wouldn't mind,” she said finally, “but I think it would depend on whether or not you've been accepted at Hogwarts. I'm sure you have, but it would be better for you to get your letter before your wand.”
“Tell me about Hogwarts,” Harry asked. Ginevra let out her breath slowly, and leaned her head on his shoulder.
“It's amazing,” she said, “or at least, I've heard it is. Bill said that in the Great Hall, where they have meals and school assemblies as stuff, the ceiling is enchanted to look like the sky outside. And Fred and George say that the castle's full of secret passageways and hidden doors, so you never quite know what to expect. I can't wait to go,” she said with a sigh.
Harry put an arm around her. “Hey, I bet we could do something like that here,” he said.
“The enchanted ceiling. We could make the sky look like something.”
Harry thought about it a moment. His eyes roamed the pool around him, searching for something. Once, his eyes passed over her, and he furrowed his brow, but moved on a second later. The old woman was not concerned. Once was fine. If he showed a reaction a second time, then she would have to worry. His eyes traveled over the animals in the area, the plants, and the waterfall. The small amount of worry that she had collected when his eyes lingered on the place she stood dissipated.
Then his eyes moved back to where she stood, and locked onto hers. Suddenly, Ginny looked up and gasped. The air around the old charged with power, reacting to the two children's shock.
“Who are you?” Harry asked, his voice careful, as though trying not to betray the annoyance she knew was beginning to bubble up inside him.
“And why are you in our dream?” Ginny snapped. She made no effort to hide her displeasure.
The old woman hesitated for a fraction of a second. She had not prepared for this. The earth at her feet gave a low growl, and began to rumble. The sky darkened and the water took on a fiercer sheen.
“I am Fate,” she said finally. “And I came here to observe you.”
The earth settled, and the water calmed, if only to its previous state of rage, the dark clouds faded to stormy gray. The sky paled from black to a dangerous blue, and the air remained charged with magic.
“Fate?” Harry repeated. “Like fate fate? Destiny?”
“Yes,” she said. “I am the original spirit of fate.”
“Is that your name?”
“No, but to speak my name now and here would shatter the world you have created, and quite possibly your minds. Names are powerful, and the more powerful the being, the more powerful the name.”
“Why do you want to watch us?” Harry asked.
“I was to observe and choose the best time to give you insight into your connection.”
“You know?” Ginny asked, her eyebrows raised.
Fate nodded. “I am Fate,” she said. “I knew it before it began.”
Both children scowled. “I hate dramatic announcements,” Ginny muttered. Harry murmured a word of agreement with her.
“Will you tell us?” Harry asked.
Fate considered it a moment. The fact that Harry had been able to see her was a show of his power. The world they had created, that seemed to react to their emotions but remained under their will was impressive to say the least. But their power was not what she was looking for. They did not yet have what they needed to bear the knowledge. Fate looked over them, and sighed.
“I am afraid that the knowledge, if you were to gain it now, from me, would impair your journey,” she said gravely. “You must learn it on your own.”
Both seemed frustrated. The sky darkened again, and the earth growled once more. Fate decided a quick retreat was best.
“Why?” Ginny asked.
“I cannot say. I will leave you to your dreams now. Do not be surprised if you do not remember this dream when you wake.”
Fate bowed to them, and, pulled herself from their dream.
“Well?” Night croaked.
Fate closed her eyes. There were times when Night got on her nerves. Now was one of them.
“They are more powerful than I imagined,” Fate whispered. “Their bond is strong.”
Night pushed himself to his feet. The wolf nuzzled her hand. She lifted her staff from the ground, and used it to pull her from the chair. As she stood, it vanished. Chaos gave an indignant squawk and fluttered into the air. Chaos gave her the evil eye as he fluttered down onto her staff. Fate gave him no apology.
“Let us go,” she said. She rested a hand on Night's head, and, in the time it took for an eye to blink, they disappeared into the darkness.
The next morning dawned bright and clear, and Harry awoke to the sound of someone rummaging around in the room where he slept. Harry sat up, yawned, and saw Ron staggering on one leg as he pulled on a sock. He overbalanced, and fell onto the bed.
“Dang it,” Ron muttered. He looked up, and saw Harry sitting up. “Oh, you're awake. You had better get dressed. Mum let us sleep as late as she could, but we've got to leave soon. Where's my shoe?” he added, looking around
Harry sat on his bed a moment, his eyes on the window, trying to remember the dream he had last night. It had been different from most of his dreams, because something had happened that he had not been able to control. But what was it? He struggled to remember, but it stubbornly refused to come to his conscious mind. Harry sighed, pulled a clean tee shirt and jeans from his rucksack, and hastily pulled them on. By the time he had pulled on socks, his glasses, and trainers, Ron had found his left shoe, and was on his knees, digging through a box for the other one. Harry spotted it lying on the ground just beneath his bed.
“This it?” Harry asked, picking it up.
“Yes!” Ron said in relief, and Harry tossed it to him. Ron tugged it on, not bothering to do up the laces, and bounded for the door. “Come on, last one out has to wake up Ginny!”
Harry ran after him. Ron took the stairs two at a time, jumping steps every other landing and banging into the walls. Harry followed more slowly, and less hazardously. Ron laughed at him he rocketed past Ginny's door.
“Have fun waking up Ginny! She'll rip your head off probably!” Ron called back to him. Harry rolled his eyes.
On the landing to Ginny's room, Harry stopped. Ron didn't seem to notice, bounced off another wall, and jumped to the next landing. Harry fixed his eyes on Ginny's door, wondering whether to knock. He pressed his ear to the door. Was she awake? He didn't think so. He could hear her gentle breathing, through the door and through her side of his mind. He grasped the handle, and gently turned it. He stuck his head in, to see her curled up, the blankets around her waist. She was still fast asleep, dressed in a pale yellow tank top and faded striped pajama pants. One arm dangled off the edge of the bed, the other was draped over her eyes. Her red hair was contained in a long braid, which lay on her pillow, gleaming in the light of the sun, pouring in through her window.
Harry slipped inside, and crossed to her bedside on tip-toe. She looked very peaceful. He hated to wake her, but he knew she'd want to be woken sooner rather than later since they would be leaving sooner, rather than later.
He gently shook her shoulder. She groaned, and waved him away. Harry grasped her hand, and lifted her arm off her face. Sunlight hit her closed eyes, and she squinted quickly to block it.
“'M sleeping,” she mumbled.
“It's time to get up,” Harry said.
Ginny blearily opened one eye. “Hello, Harry,” she mumbled again. She yawned widely. Then, her eyes shot open, and she yanked the blankets up to her chin. Harry jumped back, as she blushed bright pink.
“Harry!” she gasped. “What- what are you-”
“I'm only here to wake you up,” he said, blushing himself now. “Ron said we've got to leave soon.”
Ginny's eyes were still wide. “I- I'm my pajamas,” she stammered.
Harry raised an eyebrow. “So? They're not any different from your normal clothes.”
Ginny was still blushing. “You're in my room, and I'm in my pajamas,” she muttered.
“I'll go, if you're uncomfortable,” he said.
Ginny shook her head. “No, I'm not uncomfortable. You just surprised me, that's all.”
Harry shrugged. “Well, all right. I'll wait here for you while you get dressed.” Then he blushed again. “I-I mean, I'll wait outside-”
“I know what you meant,” Ginny said. “This awkwardness has got to go away soon, it's weird.”
Harry laughed. “All right. Don't take too long, now.”
He stepped back outside the room. Five minutes later, Ginny came out, now dressed in cut-off jeans, and a green tee shirt. She grabbed his hand and tugged him downstairs. Harry felt a smile spread across his face as she pulled him on; he could get used to this.
When they arrived in the kitchen, they found Mrs. Weasley stroking an owl, a letter in her hands.
“Harry, dear, it's yours,” she said.
“Mine?” Harry asked, frowning.
Mrs. Weasley handed him the letter. The print on the address read “Mr. H. Potter, The Burrow.”
Open it! Ginny encouraged him in his mind. Harry pulled open the envelope. He withdrew the letter, and his eyes scanned it quickly.
It's from Hogwarts, he thought.
What's it say?
His eyes traveled farther down the page. I've been accepted.
Ginny let out a squeal and hugged him very tightly around the neck. He half choked, but smiled.
“What?” everyone in the kitchen called.
“Can we get Harry's school things will we're at Diagon Alley too, Mum? He's going too!” Ginny asked.
A brief look of worry flashed across her face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. “Of course, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said, smiling. Both Harry and Ginny grinned.
Breakfast was noisy and amazing. When Harry offered to help clean up, Mrs. Weasley hushed him and told him to go outside with Ron and Ginny, saying it was Fred and George's day to clean the kitchen.
Bill and Charlie weren't coming to Diagon Alley. Charlie had his summer job and Bill had job interviews. Fred, George, and Percy were coming though. Percy was still oddly formal, even though his hair was still pink. Fred and George grumbled about the kitchen, but did it anyway. Ten minutes later, they were all waiting outside the car for Mrs. Weasley.
Mrs. Weasley was fumbling with the car keys. “I swear, this thing is going to be the death of me,” she muttered, as she found the right key for the door. The doors unlocked and Ron opened the back door.
“Youngest in the back,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Percy up front with me.”
Ron made a face, Percy dutifully took the passenger seat as the rest of them climbed into the back seat. Harry ended up squeezed between Fred and George, how, he didn't know. He glanced at Ginny, hoping she could save him somehow.
Ginny grinned wickedly and shook her head at him.
You've got to learn how to stand up to them eventually, she thought.
Now? Harry thought, a little panicky.
Ginny shrugged and settled into her seat. Harry sent a silent prayer that Ginny's brothers would leave him be, and in one piece.
Mrs. Weasley started the car, and they pulled out of the driveway. George and Fred caught eyes above Harry, and then looked down at him in unison. Harry gulped.
“So, Harry Potter,” they said together. Harry couldn't tell which was which still.
“Er...” he said.
“How old are you?” said the one on his left.
“Eleven next week,” Harry said.
They exchanged looks.
“He is rather young,” said one.
“Still, our sister worships the Boy Who Lived,” said the other.
“I don't!” Ginny called hotly. She was blushing again.
I really don't worship you, Ginny said. I know you're a thick little goose.
Harry smiled at her. I know you know. Don't worry.
“Boys!” Mrs. Weasley called. “Leave him alone.”
They both scowled and crossed their arms over their chests. Harry mouthed 'thank you' at Mrs. Weasley, who smiled at him in the rear-view mirror. The older set of twins sulked the rest of the drive. Harry gave Mrs. Weasley the card with his grandmother's address on it, and apparently, she knew the roads well enough to navigate without a map. Percy sat stiffly in the passenger seat.
“Mum, on the way back, can I sit up front?” Ron asked rather hopefully.
“Ron, it's Percy's week. You'll have to wait your turn.”
Ron scowled and slumped back in the seat. Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry, or at least, Harry knew she rolled her eyes, as she wasn't actually looking at him.
The rest of the drive was quiet. Mrs. Weasley muttered to herself as she drove. Ginny's head drooped onto Fred's arm. Harry sat nervously, dwarfed between Ginny's brothers.
They don't bite! Ginny's voice teased him.
Yes they do, you've told me, Harry shot back.
Ginny shrugged. They'll get used to you.
Until then, I'm scared.
Ginny sighed. Don't be. I've got your back.
She reached around Fred and squeezed Harry's hand. He smiled gratefully at her. Ron, Fred, and George all gave them a confused look.
“Oh, right,” George said.
“Telepathy,” Fred added.
“Strange,” Ron muttered.
Ginny caught Harry's eye and grinned. He shook his head at her, but smiled back.
What, does my amusement of their confusion amuse you?
Harry laughed. No, your ridiculousness amuses me.
Ginny laughed and Harry grinned. Her brothers looked further confused. Harry didn't bother to explain.
“I think this is it,” Mrs. Weasley said. Harry looked to see her parking the car in front of a wide white farmhouse. He saw Thea's rusty pick-up parked in the drive.
“Harry, Ginny, if you'll come with me, please,” Mrs. Weasley said. Ginny stepped over Fred's knees and pushed past George and Harry to the door. Harry followed her. They followed Mrs. Weasley up the walk to the farmhouse. Ginny's hand slipped into his and gave it a squeeze. He smiled at her. Mrs. Weasley knocked on the front door.
It opened a moment later to reveal Thea Evans, wearing a plain blue apron covered in flour stains.
“Ah, Mrs. Weasley,” Thea said with a smile. “Nice to see you. Can I help you?”
“Yes,” Mrs. Weasley said. “We- that is to say my children and I- are heading to Diagon Alley today- do you know-”
“Yes, I know,” Thea interrupted. “Continue.”
“Anyway, we are going to Diagon Alley today and we wanted your permission to bring Harry along. He got his acceptance letter this morning from Hogwarts, see.”
“Oh, of course it's all right with me,” Thea said, “it's Petunia you'll have to worry about. Hang on a mo'.” She turned back to the house. “Petunia, darling, come here please!”
Harry's aunt came to the front door with a scowl. She looked so little like the woman standing next to her, that Harry wondered how it could be that they were mother and daughter.
“What is it?” Petunia asked.
“Mrs. Weasley here says that Harry has been accepted at Hogwarts,” Thea said. “She's going to Diagon Alley to get school things for her children and wants to get Harry's while she's there.”
Petunia's scowl deepened. “I'm not paying for-”
“Petunia,” Thea said sharply, “you won't have to. James and Lily left him money when they died. I've got the key to their vault, his parents can pay.”
That solves Mum's worries about paying for you, Ginny thought. Harry only nodded.
Petunia crossed her arms over her chest. “How come you got their key?”
Thea glanced at Mrs. Weasley. “Another time, dear. What do you say?”
Petunia glanced at Harry, her eyes narrowed. She seemed to be thinking it all over. Finally, she sighed. “I'll let him go, but I want to come with him.”
Harry's jaw dropped. “Really?” he said. “What do you want to come for?”
“Someone's got to watch you,” she snapped. “Don't ask questions!”
“I can go with them,” Thea said.
“No,” Petunia said. “I'll need someone to watch Dudley.”
Thea sighed. “I'll go get the key,” she said softly. She slipped past Petunia and into the house.
“I'm going to fetch my coat,” Petunia said, and turned away. Mrs. Weasley glanced at Harry.
“Is she always like this?” Mrs. Weasley asked him in a low voice.
“Normally,” Harry said with a shrug. Mrs. Weasley pursed her lips. He guessed she was trying not to appear judgmental.
What's this mean then? Ginny thought. What's your aunt want to come with us for?
I don't know.
Aunt Petunia reappeared at the door way, holding her coat and purse. She moved onto the porch with them. Thea came back a moment later, holding a small golden key in her hand.
“Here you go,” Thea said, pressing the key into Harry's hand. “I haven't been inside the bank in a long time, and my memory isn't what it used to be, so I can't tell you what to expect.”
“That's fine, I know,” Mrs. Weasley said. “Well, we'll be gone most of the afternoon, but we'll return Petunia before dinner.”
“Thank you,” Thea said. “I'll see you then.”
As she closed the door, we walked back to the car.
“How far is it to London?” Harry asked.
“I'm not sure,” Mrs. Weasley said, “but it doesn't really matter. We'll go back to the Burrow and Floo there.”
Have I told you what Floo powder is? Ginny's voice asked.
Er, I think so. It's the thing that lets you go places by fire, right?
Yep, that's it.
“I'm sorry, Floo?” Petunia asked.
“I'll explain it on the way,” Mrs. Weasley assured her. She tapped the passenger side door. “Percy, I'll need you to sit in the back,” she said. Percy opened his door and solemnly transferred to the back seat. Ginny rolled her eyes at Harry. He smiled at her, and climbed in after her. Fortunately, now he sat between the door and Ginny. Fred and George were on the other side of Percy. He now felt quite safe.
Mrs. Weasley spent the next five minutes explaining to Aunt Petunia what Floo powder was. The rest of the ride was silent.
Back at the Burrow, Mrs. Weasley parked the car and they all climbed out, Aunt Petunia not bothering to hide her disgust at the state of the place. Harry felt a sudden rush of anger towards his aunt. When he moved past her to go through the kitchen door, he accidentally on purpose stepped on her foot.
Floo travel was not so bad, since Ginny was there to guide through the steps. Percy went first, then the twins, then Aunt Petunia. Aunt Petunia looked very skeptical, and Mrs. Weasley practically had to shove her into the fireplace for her to go.
The shopping trip was very interesting. First was Gringotts, where the goblins were intimidating. Next was book shops and then to get robes. Then the apothecary. Aunt Petunia waited outside for that one. Then we got the rest of our stuff, until we only need a wand.
Mrs. Weasley didn't seem to want to acknowledge that she had very little money to pay for things, but she did let each of her children get one thing new. Percy wanted robes, Fred and George wanted fireworks- Harry didn't want to know why- Ron asked for a broom, but Mrs. Weasley reminded him that first years weren't allowed one, so he settled for new robes too. But Ginny said she wanted a new wand. Harry didn't need to worry, as his parents had left him quite a lot, but agreed with her that a brand new magic wand was what he wanted most.
So they stood in the dark wand shop, looking around. Mrs. Weasley had turned her son's loose so they would not get in the way. Aunt Petunia sat in the corner reading a book.
The owner of the shop was called Ollivander. When he came out from the back of the shop, Harry was startled by his wide silver eyes, fixed on him.
“I was wondering when you would be visiting me, Mr. Potter,” Ollivander said in a soft voice.
“Er, hello,” Harry said. Ginny stifled a laugh. Mr. Ollivander turned his large misty eyes on her.
“Ah, another Weasley,” he said. “The first girl in seven generations, I believe.”
Ginny turned pink and nodded.
“I think you should go first,” Ollivander said. “What is your wand arm, my dear?”
“Right,” Ginny replied. Ollivander whispered something under his breath. He turned the back of the shop, and then returned with a long, thin box. He opened it, and held it out to her.
“Here, try. Poplar, with unicorn tail hair. Ten and a half inches.”
Ginny pulled it from the box, but just as soon as it touched her fingers, Ollivander snatched it from her and turned back to his wall of boxes, muttering, “No, no, that wasn't it.” A minute later, he returned with another box.
“Apple and phoenix feather, twelve and a quarter inches.”
But apparently, that was not it either. Nor was the next, nor the next. Many wands were tried and cast aside. Harry caught woods like Cypress and Rowan and Cherry, but each was tossed onto the desk. Finally, Ollivander held out a box to her, and when she took it, he did not immediately snatch it away.
“Hawthorn,” he said, “and dragon heartstring. Thirteen inches. Firm.”
Ginny lifted it out of the box. As her fingers closed around it, sparks shot out of the end, gathered in the air, and formed a shape. A lightning bolt. It held that shape for a second, before exploding in brightly colored sparks.
Ollivander clapped. Mrs. Weasley smiled. Ginny grinned at him. Harry grinned back, and then it was his turn.
After the tenth wand, Harry stopped paying attention to what wands he was holding. The pile on the desk was growing larger than Ginny's had been. Ollivander for some strange reason, seemed to be having fun.
“I love a tricky customer!” he said, flitting through the shelves.
After a half hour, Harry found his ears listening to what Ollivander was saying as he stood in the back.
“I wonder,” he said quietly. He glanced back at Harry, then came back out. “Holly, with phoenix feather core. Eleven inches, supple. Try.”
Harry took the wand from the box. Instantly, warmth spread from his fingers up his arm. Red and gold sparks shot out of the end, and, like Ginny's had, formed a shape in the air. A winged something. Harry couldn't tell what it was.
“Oh, yes, very good!” Ollivander said, beaming. “Hmm... curious.”
“What's curious?” Harry asked.
Ollivander glanced at the others in the room, and then lowered his voice. “I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. It just so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather rests in your wand gave just one other feather, and it is the core of a yew wand I sold over fifty years ago. That wand is the wand that gave you that scar.”
Harry's hand shot to his hand. “My- my wand and Voldemort's wand are connected?”
Ollivander made a face. “Do not say the name, my boy, please.”
“But, yes, your wand and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's wand are brothers. Keep that in mind, Mr. Potter.”
On that strange note, they paid for the two wands. They met the boys, and headed back to the Leaky Caldron. It was nearing half past five.
Mrs. Weasley left them at the Burrow while she took Aunt Petunia back to Thea's. Harry and Ginny wandered back out to the garden while Ron kept working on his room.
Ginny rested her head on his shoulder again, yawning. Harry gripped her hand.
“So, your wand and You-Know-Who's wand are brothers?” Ginny asked suddenly.
He started. “You heard?”
Ginny rolled her eyes. “Harry, for the last time, I AM IN YOUR HEAD! Of course I heard.”
He nodded. “I wonder what it means.”
Ginny yawned again. “I wonder too.”
“Go to sleep.”
“I'm not tired.”
“I'll use your words here, I'm in your head!” he said, laughing. “Don't lie.”
“Fine, I'm tired.”
“Go to sleep.”
Ginny closed her eyes, her grip on his hand loosening. “You too, Harry. You're tired too.”
He smiled at her, rested his head on hers, and let his eyes shut.
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