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SIYE Time:8:27 on 29th March 2024
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Unity in Diversity
By hgromance

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall, Neville Longbottom, Other
Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Romance
Warnings: Mild Sexual Situations
Rating: PG-13
Reviews: 118
Summary: Sequel to The Beast Within. Highly reccommend you read that first. Harry and Ginny make new friends, find a few rivals, and generally enjoy themselves until danger is thrust upon Harry once again.
Hitcount: Story Total: 61424; Chapter Total: 2801





Author's Notes:
Hooray, another update! Thanks goes to my beta, Arnel, for her hard work correcting my mistakes. Thanks to those who leave me thoughts on the chapters. I love reading your thoughts.




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I am the designer of my own catastrophe and the stylist of my own dreams.
---La Whimsy


Dumbledore paced his office briskly, hands folded behind his back. He'd talked to Minerva at the end of the Feast and she'd admitted to having known that neither Harry nor Ginny would be coming back to Hogwarts. She'd absolutely refused, however, to say anything further. He didn't understand how she could be so unconcerned over this development! She knew all of their futures were at stake! For the hundredth time since arriving in his office that first evening of the term, his frustrated gaze landed on one of his myriad silver instruments, still whirring away as if nothing had changed. He'd tuned that one in to Harry's beating heart. The fact that the instrument still ran obviously meant Harry was still alive, which was something, at least.

A chat with Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, and Mr. Longbottom didn't garner him any more information, either, though the three did confess to knowing their fellow Gryffindors weren't returning to Hogwarts. Where could the two be? He'd thought to take Harry under his wing this year, to start teaching him some advanced spells to prepare him for the task that fell to him. Now, he had to scramble to figure out what Plan B should entail. Dumbledore sighed. In reality, he needed to speak with Harry, maybe convince him to come back to Hogwarts before it grew too late into the term.

Albus had heard the rumors flying as to why the two Gryffindors were missing, and none of them were kind. Perhaps a visit with Molly and Arthur would clarify things. Surely, they weren't purposefully keeping Miss Weasley at home. Or perhaps they were, to make a point. Molly certainly hadn't been very happy with him at the end of the school year. He could still hear the faint echoes of Molly's Howler. If that was what was happening, then he needed to reassure them that their point had been made. Molly felt there was nothing more important than a good education. Perhaps he could use that to make her see that Miss Weasley needed to be in school.

A plan of action decided upon, he contacted his Deputy Headmistress to let her know he'd be away from the school for a few hours, stating where he'd be going if he was needed.

“They won't be home, Albus. Molly told me she and Arthur were taking a short holiday once the kids were in school. It had been years since they'd done so and decided now would be a good time to do so again.”

That just raised more questions. “But what of Miss Weasley? Molly would never leave one of her children behind. This holiday of which you speak does not sound like the kind of holiday one would take a child on.”

“I can only tell you what I'd been told, Albus.”

Albus had the feeling that Minerva hadn't wanted to be told anything more, for this very reason. Sighing, he thanked her for saving him a trip. Now what was he to do? The thought of not doing anything didn't sit well with him, especially not with so much at stake, but what choice did he have? A small cry drew his attention to Fawkes. Fawkes' Burning Day had finally come, but it couldn't have been more inopportune. That avenue was out as well. Fate seemed to be blocking him at every turn! He supposed turnabout was fair play, as the Muggles liked to say, but it surely wasn't fun.

0000


After letting go of her parents, Ginny hugged Sirius. “Thank you so much for bringing them.”

“It was nothing, Short Stuff. I didn't even have to use Harry's name to get the Portkey. I explained the situation and they immediately approved my application. No worries.”

Ginny's hands flew to her hips as she scowled at Sirius. “Don't call me short.” Secretly, she loved that he'd given her a nickname like he had for Harry, but why did it have to be in relation to her height?

Sirius laughed, then headed over to Harry, who had hung back. As he passed by, Sirius said, “Sure thing … Stuff.”

Ginny giggled. Turning her focus back to her parents, she saw them surveying the house and grounds. “It's pretty here, isn't it?”

“It's certainly different,” her mother agreed, sounding uncertain.

Her dad pulled at his collar a bit. “And warm.”

“It'll get warmer, but there's Cooling Charms on a lot of the buildings. Come on, let me introduce you to Miss Lena, our Headmistress.”

“You call your Headmistress by her first name?” Molly asked, her face flushing in anger.

“Mum, it's what she told us to call her. They do things a little differently here.”

“Well, I for one,” Arthur jumped in, “am looking forward to meeting her and seeing the rest of your school. Shall we go?”

The three passed by Harry and Sirius on their way to the front porch where Miss Lena was actively greeting all the parents. Ginny, again describing her airplane experiences to her dad, absently reached for Harry's hand, finding nothing but air. She stopped, confused, and looked back to where he and Sirius still stood.

“Aren't you coming?”

Harry stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Well, I thought maybe that you'd want … I didn't want to …”

Ginny barely suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. Boys! They could be so clueless sometimes! Ginny rejoined Harry, purposefully pulled a hand from its pocket, wove their fingers together, and practically dragged him back to her parents, draping his arm across her shoulders.

“You, too, Sirius,” Arthur called. “We can't thank you enough for bringing Ginny here safely and giving her such wonderful experiences. I'm sure we'll have lots of questions for you.”

“Only if you're certain,” Sirius said, catching up to them. “Don't want to intrude on a family reunion.”

Arthur faced Sirius fully, placing one hand on Harry's shoulder, his other hand squeezing Sirius's shoulder. “You both are family,” he insisted, his gaze jumping from Sirius to Harry. “Now. How about that tour?”

Ginny could have Mum-hugged her dad for what he'd just said. As it was, she beamed up at him and received a wink from him. Now that they were all together, she led her parents up to the front door where Miss Lena stood.

“Miss Lena, this is my Mum and Dad.”

Bon jour! Welcome to our school. Take a look around. If you have any questions, just ask.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Weasley said, still sounding uncertain about her surroundings.

Ginny took them inside, explained the commons area, the mini-library, the idea of the dean system that they had, pointed out the infirmary, peeked into the dining room, then the recreation room.

“There's a lot of Muggle games in here.”

“Are there really?” Mr. Weasley asked, his eyes lighting up with interest.

Ginny grinned, knowing her dad would react in that exact manner. “Yes, there are. I thought maybe you'd like to play a game or two while I showed Mum my room. I don't think I can take you with us.”

“That's alright, Ginny. I'd love to play. Take your time.” Ginny felt relieved at that. Then, her father's next words made her want to Mum-hug him all over again. “Maybe I can play Dad to Harry and convince him to let me see his room.”

Ginny nearly giggled at Harry's dumbfounded expression, but then he swallowed with difficulty and her mirth was gone. Squeezing his hand, she received an answering squeeze and minute smile. After introducing her parents to Miss Green, Ginny took her mum through the windowed corridor connecting the main house to her dorm.

“Oh, Ginny, this place is so beautiful, and the people seem very nice.”

Ginny smiled over her shoulder as they climbed the stairs to get to Ginny's room. “They really are, Mum. Everyone here has been friendly.” At the top of the stairs, Ginny passed a door on each side of the corridor before stopping at the next one on the left. “This is my room. First, second, third, and three of the fourth-year rooms are up here.”

Mrs. Weasley's brows rose. “That's all the students there are? You can fit them all on one floor?”

Ginny giggled at her mum's expression. “I know. It surprised me, too. Come on in.”

She delighted in her mum's expression upon seeing the deep-ocean green of their bed coverings, ivory-painted walls, and white furniture. Ginny stepped up to her bed. “This one is mine.”

Mrs. Weasley scanned the room. “It's lovely, dear.” She gasped after catching sight of something on the wall above Ginny's bed. “What's that?”

Ginny looked up at the travel map outlining her journey there, the Weasley wall art that she planned to give her mum for Christmas, her best Holyhead Harpies poster, and the broom hooks that currently secured her Firebolt.

“The map shows all the towns we traveled to. The art is something that was made in Philadelphia.” Ginny pointed out the place on the map.

“Oh,” Mrs. Weasley said, sniffling, “my baby's come so far.”

“It almost doesn't seem like it. We were so busy, but it was loads of fun.”

“Why is this name circled?” Mrs. Weasley pointed to a place not connected to the others.

“That was a place we visited but didn't stay overnight. Can you believe it was a castle?” Ginny's eyes rounded in excitement. “Oh, and we saw this ghost girl who showed us some secret Potions lab! The really interesting thing, though, was that she mentioned her sister having married into the family who had built the castle. Her sister's last name was Potter! Can you believe it? Harry might actually have some relatives here!”

“Her sister's last name is Potter? Not hers?”

Ginny shrugged. “Maybe she's from another marriage or something, I don't know, but that's beside the point. Potter, Mum!”

Mrs. Weasley patted Ginny's cheek. “It likely doesn't mean anything, Ginny. I imagine there are a lot of people with that surname. It wouldn't do to get Harry's hopes up. Remember, Dumbledore wasn't aware of any relatives.”

Frustrated, Ginny leaned away from the patronizing pat. “Dumbledore isn't infallible, obviously. Just because he wasn't aware of any, doesn't mean there aren't any. Maybe a Squib came over here to start a new life or something. Harry's looking into it. Or, at least, he will be soon. He deserves to know if there's any at all here.”

“Of course he does. I would just hate to see him heartbroken and disappointed.”

“He understands that the odds are against him. I think he said he's staying 'cautiously optimistic'.” Seeing that she wouldn't be interrupting anything if she spoke to her roommates, Ginny introduced them to her mother. “Mum, this is Raven and Amelie.”

“Hello, Mrs. Weasley. It's nice to meet you.” Raven introduced her own mother.

“Hi, Mrs. Weasley,” Amelie said, her voice carrying the slightest of French accents. “It's nice to meet you.”

Ginny was aware that Amelie's mother couldn't come due to a family emergency. She hugged her friend, then explained in a soft voice why Amelie was alone. As Ginny had hoped, her mum gathered Amelie into a fierce hug and declared herself Amelie's mum, too, for the day.

“Oh, non. No. I couldn't intrude.”

“Nonsense. No one should be alone on a day like today. You can come with us when we tour the classrooms. I insist.”

“Thank you.”

“So, what does your uniform look like, Ginny? Is it anything like Hogwarts' uniforms?”

Ginny showed off her uniforms and when her mum inquired about the strange double lizard stitching on the jumper, Amelie explained.

“From what I understand, they're crocodiles, not lizards, but they do sort of look like lizards. It's the symbol for Unity in Diversity, which is the school's motto. It shows that everyone is equal here, regardless of color or race. That's what they strive for here anyway.” Amelie shrugged. “Don't get me wrong, they do a great job, but, well, it's not a utopia, either. Clashes happen. They're bound to with this many kids together, right?”

“Of course.”

Ginny was instantly reminded of the fight Harry had with that one bloke a few days ago. They were still staying away from each other. Yes, as Chris had put it, sometimes someone just rubs you the wrong way. Thankfully, nothing had been said about it to Mr. Becker or Miss Lena. She wasn't about to say anything to her mum, either. To divert the conversation from that topic, Ginny opened the top drawer of her bedside table and pulled out a stack of photos, handing them to her mum.

“These are copies of some of the photos we took along the way. These are for you and Dad. The names of the places are on the backs. We had to use a Muggle camera.”

Ginny watched as her mum chuckled, gasped, and smiled her way through the pictures. Mrs. Weasley held one up in particular. “Oh, Ginny, this one is lovely.”

Amelie gasped. “Que c'est beau! That's beautiful, Ginny! How have I not seen this?”

Ginny grinned even as she felt her cheeks warm. She knew the exact picture her mother had stopped at; it was the same one she had in a frame on her bedside table. It was a profile shot of her and Harry from about the hip up, slow dancing to one of the earlier songs that evening in Pittsburgh. Their heads were together, eyes closed, with their lips nearly touching. It wouldn't have taken much to close the distance between them if either of them had wanted to. The memory still had the power to make her shiver inside and long to kiss him. They'd been so wrapped up in each other, neither of them had noticed a photographer. Sirius had copies made and, last night, gave one to her and Harry, gave her one for her mum, and kept one for himself. He told them he'd paid someone to take their picture. It was her favorite.

“They were just given to me last night.” Raven was looking on with interest, so Ginny passed the photo to her.

“Ginny! Girl, you two make a lovely couple!” She handed the photo back.

“Thanks. I think it's my favorite.”

Mrs. Weasley finished going through the pictures. “These are all lovely, dear. Thank you.”

“You're welcome, Mum. I'm just glad I can finally show them to you.” Ginny hugged her mum fiercely, then pulled back. “I think we should probably go rescue Harry from Dad. All those Muggle games in the recreation room, he's probably driving Harry and Sirius mental with all his questions.”

“Yes, you're probably right. Let's go get them. Then, you can show us your classrooms.” Mrs. Weasley draped an arm around Amelie. To Raven and her mother, she said, “You're more than welcome to join us.”

“Oh, thank you, but no. Raven's been coming here since her first year. It's not new to me. We don't live very far away. I just came to make sure she had all she needed. You go ahead.”

“Alright, then. It was nice to meet you.”

After collecting her father, Sirius, and Harry–her father declaring they needed to get one of the Muggle games he and Harry had been playing–Ginny led everyone out to the back grounds. They completed a circuit of the buildings, Ginny pointing out what they were, before entering the one that housed the classrooms through one of three sets of doors. She and Harry hadn't wanted to say goodbye to their holiday just yet so neither of them had set foot inside the building until now. A lobby ran the length of the building. At each end of the lobby was a corridor and a set of stairs. Through the throng of students, parents and teachers, Ginny could see two doors, a corridor that branched off the lobby forming a T, then two more doors.

The first door led to an office. The plaque next to the doorway read: Elizabeth Ward, Defense Against the Dark Arts. The room next to the office also had a plaque declaring it was the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Tables and chairs currently occupied the room. Ginny hoped they'd get some practical experience.

“Is your professor here? I'd like to meet her.”

“I think so, Mum.” Ginny looked around the lobby several times before spying their very short professor. With a nod of her head, she indicated the woman. “There she is. She's the short, thin woman with brown hair with a little gray in it that reaches her shoulders.”

“The one wearing the blue trousers and pink shirt?” Mrs. Weasley asked, incredulous.

“That's her.”

“But … there's nothing to her! How can she possibly teach something as physical as Defense Against the Dark Arts?”

“Now, Molly. I'm sure she's well qualified for her position,” Mr. Weasley soothed.

“You're right. Of course, she is. Let's go speak to her.”

As they headed that way, Ginny saw that the room across the T-stem corridor from the Defense classroom was another office, this one belonging to their History of Magic professor, a Mr. Jack Lloyd. She glanced over at the young, blond-haired professor currently talking animatedly with his hands to several parents. She turned to Harry with a grin.

“I think History of Magic might actually be interesting this year.”

Harry grinned, too. “I think you're right. Of course, anyone would be better after Binns.”

“True.”

Once her parents had been able to speak with Mr. Lloyd as well as Mr. Hollis Hadley, their Herbology professor, they wandered deeper into the building looking for other classrooms and professors. Ginny wasn't sure what to make of Mr. Hadley. Oh, he was friendly enough, he just reminded her of Luna in that he came across as somewhat eccentric, telling them some fantastic tales that certainly couldn't be true.

Another long corridor paralleling the lobby separated the front row of offices and classrooms from the others so that it was actually like walking along a sideways H. Deciding to go from left to right, the group ambled over to the first room. Ginny noted that a loo sat behind the stairs along the short corridor she'd noticed when they had first entered the building. The first room turned out to be their Charms classroom. It was set up like a typical classroom. Their professor, Miss Naomi Naveen, waved them in, even as she spoke with other parents.

Ginny had heard some of the older girls talking about their Charms professor, complaining that she was too pretty and that all the boys had a crush on her. Critically, Ginny studied the woman. She had long, chocolate brown hair that she wore loose and deep blue eyes that seemed to sparkle with happiness. It didn't hurt that she was quite fit, either. Mentally shrugging, Ginny turned her attention to Harry, who wasn't even paying their professor any attention.

“What are you thinking?” Ginny whispered.

Harry shrugged. “Not much of anything, really. I guess I keep thinking about how the year has already started at Hogwarts and am wondering how things went. We haven't heard from Hermione or the others, so I'm wondering if things are okay. I can't help thinking Dumbledore likely pulled them into his office and questioned them.”

Ginny squeezed his hand. “I'm sure he probably did, but I'm also certain they knew Dumbledore would and were prepared. Maybe they're waiting until things calmed down before getting in touch with us. We'll find out soon enough. Are you worried about Dumbledore showing up here?”

“A little. He doesn't strike me as the type to give up. I almost expect to see him any day now walking through the door and insisting that I return to Hogwarts. Or worse, insist that you go back to Hogwarts.”

Sympathy filling her at Harry's words, Ginny let go of his hand so that she could cup his face. Staring into his eyes, she vowed, “That's not going to happen, Harry. He can't make either of us go anywhere or do anything that's against our will, not without getting into some serious trouble.”

Harry cracked a grin. “Or some Sirius trouble. You and I both know Sirius wouldn't take too kindly to any of Dumbledore's assertions.”

Glad Harry didn't seem as moody, Ginny grinned. “Exactly.”

After meeting briefly with the Charms professor, their group skipped the Muggle Studies classroom since neither Ginny nor Harry were taking the course. After the Muggle Studies office came the Transfiguration classroom and their professor, Mr. Mongan Asi, who was of Chitimacha Indian descent, a local Native American population. He wore his dark hair short but for a long thin braid starting high at the back of his head and falling over his right shoulder. Having met him before, Ginny knew his eyes were as dark as his hair. He appeared rather serious and grim, but he was rather quick with a smile and a greeting.

Their Potions Master, Mr. Bruce Philter, welcomed them into the lab. One side of the wall had a cabinet with varying bottles of ingredients along with a long sink for washing out their cauldrons. The room had a high ceiling, likely taking up the space that a classroom would have on the upper floor. There was also a window and what looked to be a fan that Ginny assumed would help air out the room in case of accidents. At the front of the room, stairs led upward to a door. Ginny was certain the door led to the Potion Master's office, just like at Hogwarts, and she wondered if that was some sort of standard practice.

“Potions should be fun this year,” Harry commented softly.

“I think so, too,” Ginny nodded, watching the tall, reddish-blond man chat with her parents. “It can't be much worse than having Snape as a professor.”

Harry snorted. “Imagine this. We go back to Hogwarts and actually can answer any question Snape throws at us, and brew correctly all the potions we're supposed to. Imagine the look on his face.”

Ginny couldn't imagine it because she was still stuck on Harry's previous statement about going back to Hogwarts. She stared at Harry in shock. Not once had he ever mentioned going back to Hogwarts after their current year. He hadn't mentioned anything beyond the upcoming year, for that matter.

“You'd want to go back to Hogwarts?” she finally asked.

Harry shrugged, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I have to go back some time, don't I? Besides, you should be closer to home.”

“Harry, wherever you are, that's home to me.”

Harry smiled but went on. “Okay, well, then, maybe I should have said that you deserve to be closer to your family.”

“What I deserve is to have a life free from worry, to live as I see fit. That's what we all deserve, and that's what you and I are doing here, learning all we can to help make that a reality.”

Harry's smile broadened. “How do you always know what to say to make me feel better?”

Ginny grinned. “Because, believe it or not, I know you, how you think. At least, most of the time I do.”

“Ah, that would explain it, then. You're practically in my head. You might want to beware, though. It's not always a nice place to be. Sometimes, things can get rather disturbing in there.”

Ginny giggled, loving this playful side of Harry, one he didn't show often. “And that's why you need me,” she said loftily. “I can shed a little light and happiness in there, make things all better.”

Harry reached up, his expression softening, to caress her cheek with his knuckles. “You certainly do that and so much more.”

Ginny shivered at his touch, her heart pounding at the love shining in his electrifying eyes. At that moment, she wished she and Harry were the only two people in the building. Whenever he looked at her like that, she felt the almost overwhelming need to respond nonverbally, to run her hands through his hair and feel him shiver as he often did, to snog him and never stop. That feeling frightened her only slightly.

On more than one occasion, Ginny had wondered if her physical response to him had anything to do with her scars. After all, a werewolf's body tended to age faster. Wouldn't it stand to reason that hers might, too, even though she hadn't been turned? She did exhibit a couple of lycanthropy symptoms, stiffness leading up to the full moon and liking her meat less cooked, for instance. Unfortunately, there wasn't anyone she could ask, not anyone who could actually tell her anything other than supposition, at any rate.

Closing her eyes, she leaned into Harry's hand, enjoying the feel of it on her cheek. Breathing deeply, she opened her eyes and whispered, “Tá grá agam duit.”

I gcónaí, mo shíorghrá.Always, my eternal love.

Ginny beamed, impressed that he'd memorized the entire list of phrases she'd given him. “You haven't used that one before.”

“Doesn't mean it isn't true. Besides, I don't want to get boring.”

Ginny snorted. “Harry, somehow I doubt that could ever happen.”

Ginny's parents decided to wait until lunchtime to meet the other professors, as the upper floor was crowded with students and families. Instead, they walked back into the main house to the rec room as it was called by most of the students. Harry challenged Mr. Weasley in Air Hockey again, stating he hoped to win this time around. Ginny and her mum watched them for a bit. Amelie thanked Mrs. Weasley for letting her tag along before disappearing to the library.

Ginny turned to her mum. “So, what do you think?”

“I think it's an absolutely lovely place, Ginny. I think you'll be in good hands, here. Seeing the dormitory, meeting the professors, it's helped me feel more comfortable with the decision to let you stay here.”

“I'm glad, Mum. Harry and I were talking and we're thinking we're going to be learning a lot this year, especially in the subjects of History of Magic and Potions. Hogwarts doesn't exactly have the best professors for those subjects.” She looked around at the Muggle games. “Do you want to learn how to play one? I haven't quite gotten the hang of the … what was it called? Oh, yeah, fooseball. Haven't quite learned that one yet, but I can show you the others.”

Mrs. Weasley eyed the table games as well as the stack of board games on one of the shelves. She walked over to a green table with a short net stretched across it. “What about this one?”

Ginny shrugged. “I'm not that good, but I can play a little. It's called Ping Pong, or Table Tennis, depending on who you ask.”

Ginny retrieved two rounded paddles and the little white plastic ball from the shelf, then instructed her mum on how to play. While, between the two of them, there was only a handful of successful hits on the ball, they still laughed and had a fun time. Occasionally, Ginny glanced over at the pitched battle going on between Harry and her dad. This time, Harry was not taking it easy, yet he was still losing. She chuckled when her dad scored again, making the score now seven to four.

In the end, Ginny and her mum called it quits when the other game finished, Harry losing again. Ginny couldn't pass up the opportunity to do a little mickey-taking. “You lost again? You, whose Seeker reflexes are pretty spectacular?”

Harry shrugged sheepishly. “Your dad was good. Some of those were some crazy bounces off the sides. You've played. You know what I'm talking about.”

Grinning, Ginny patted Harry's cheek. “I know. I just couldn't resist.”

A short time later, it was time for lunch. Some tables and chairs were set up outside for anyone who preferred to sit there. Sirius, the elder Weasleys, Harry and Ginny chose to remain inside, sat, and chatted with the Arithmancy, Astronomy, and Ancient Runes professors. The Care of Magical Creatures professor was busy taking care of a young foal.

0000


After lunch, some students put on a game of Quodpot down at the pitch for the parents. Harry, intrigued, was eager to watch. Chris had explained what the game entailed a couple days ago, but Harry wanted to see it in action. As he watched the ball, the Quod, get tossed around amongst the twenty-two players, he wondered how anyone ever scored. Then, smoke began to rise from the Quod and the passes became even more desperate. Harry knew from his conversation with Chris that the Quod would explode if it didn't get into the big cauldron of Quod solution at the end of the pitch soon, which was how a team scored. He also knew the player holding the Quod at the time of the explosion was eliminated from the game.

“So, how do they determine a winner?” Mr. Weasley asked. “With Quidditch, the game ends when the Snitch is caught and the winner is the team with the most points, but there's no Snitch in this game.”

Not being too clear on the gameplay, Harry shrugged, but Mr. Weasley was overheard and someone explained, “When all the players of one team are eliminated, the game is over. The team with the most points wins. It's like the children's game of Hot Potato, just on a grander, more dangerous scale.”

“How is it that the Muggles don't see anything strange?” Mrs. Weasley asked, her eyes still following the game.

“Special wards allow us the freedom to do what we like without having to hide,” one of the professors answered.

Boom! The Quod exploded, forcing the player holding it out of the game. Another Quod was thrown into the game and play resumed. About an hour later, the game finally ended. Harry mentally shrugged. It wasn't a bad sport, but he preferred Quidditch. He loved the challenge of finding and catching that tiny golden ball before the other team's Seeker did.

A fifteen minute interval between the Quodpot game and the upcoming Quidditch game gave the players–the ones who were playing Quidditch too–a chance to rest and grab a drink of water. Within a few minutes, the girls' team had assembled and were huddled together. One of the girls turned around and called for a volunteer to play Chaser.

Harry immediately turned to Ginny. “You should play. They'll be begging for you to join the team once they see how good you are.”

Ginny blushed. “Oh, I don't know about that. I'm sure someone will step up to play.”

A minute later, the call went out again for one of the girls to play. “Ginny, dear, if you want to play, then go. Don't feel as if you have to stay with your father and me. In fact, we'd like to watch you play.”

Ginny still seemed reluctant, so Harry added his own encouragement. “You know you want to play. Go out there and show them how it's done.” Seeing that she was on the verge of agreeing, Harry drew the attention of the girl who was wandering the crowd begging one of the female students to play. “Ginny will play!”

The girl ran over, grabbed Ginny, and thanked her profusely. “You saved the show! Do you have a broom?”

“I do. Let me go get it.”

“Hey, Harry,” Chris called out from somewhere ahead. “The guys need a Seeker! Come play!”

Heat burned in Harry's cheeks as everyone around them turned his way. He ducked his head only to find Ginny smirking up at him. “What do you say, Harry? Think you can beat me?”

“You're on, Weasley. You're going down.”

“Race you to the dorms and back!” Ginny shouted as she took off running.

Harry instantly gave chase. Though his stride was longer, Ginny was quicker. Seeing he wasn't going to beat her in a foot race, he slowed to a stop, pulled his wand, and yelled, “Accio Firebolt!”

Ginny stopped between him and the school, glaring at him, her hands on her hips. “You cheated, Potter!”

“I prefer the term resourceful! Besides, it may not have even worked! I haven't used it in a while!”

At that moment, a broom sailed out the open back doors, heading straight for Harry. Surprised that it had actually worked from that distance, Harry almost didn't get his hand up in time to stop his broom's flight. As it was, he grabbed it and leaped onto it, almost in one motion. Euphoria hummed through him as it always did when he flew. A triumphant cry behind him had him looking over his shoulder. Ginny's broom had also answered his summons, and Harry realized, in that instant, he'd made two mistakes. One, being that he'd neglected to specify which broom he'd wanted, and two, Ginny was wicked fast on a broom. She'd catch him easily now.

Determined to not go down without a fight, Harry shot forward, lying low against his broom, leading her in tight turns around the school buildings. They buzzed the crowd, looped trees,then flew in and out of the gazebo, smiling broadly. Some time later, Harry remembered they were supposed to be down on the pitch, putting on a game for the parents. He led Ginny back, heart pounding and breathing heavily from the adrenaline rush, sheepishly apologizing for his lack of manners.

“Harry, if you Seek as well as you fly,” the captain of the blokes' team said, “then we'll be unstoppable! Please, don't apologize!”

Glancing across the pitch, Harry could see Ginny being complimented on her flying with hugs and pats on the back. Her place here seemed to have been firmly cemented and it made him feel proud … relieved … happy.

“Yo, Harry!” Someone snapped their fingers in front of Harry's face, drawing his gaze. “Stop staring at your girlfriend. In fact, at this moment, she's not your girlfriend; she's your opponent.”

Another of the blokes agreed. “Exactly. Right now, she'd like nothing better than to show you up, so you need to focus on the objective, here: to win.” He gave Harry a grin and a wink.

Harry grinned. “Right. So, what's our strategy?”

In all honesty, Harry could have caught the Snitch on four separate occasions before he finally did catch it; he had simply wanted to prolong the game, so he had let it go. He had to admit, they had impressed him with their knowledge and skill of a game that wasn't as popular over here. They weren't any competition for one of the Hogwarts teams, obviously, but they had done fairly well. As they landed, the captain begged Harry to be on the team.

“I can't make any commitments, but I'll certainly play as much as I can.”

“Fair enough.”

“Nice Summoning Charm, Harry. I look forward to seeing what else you're capable of in class.”

Harry met their Charms teacher's gaze, with a slight shrug. “I'm surprised it worked from that distance. I practiced it last year and was able to make it work for shorter distances. Just lucky, I suppose, especially since there could have been more than two Firebolts in the school.”

Her brows jumped. “You studied it last year? I'm impressed. We normally don't study it until this year. I'm glad you recognize your potentially critical error. It worked out this time, but next time, it may be a disaster. It's imperative to be specific when using the Summoning Charm.”

“I'll remember that.”

“Still quite the feat though. I'm very impressed.”

Harry blushed at the praise, a pleased grin stretching his lips wide. After much back slapping, the blokes all left. Chris stepped up and playfully punched Harry's arm.

“Is my memory faulty, or do I remember you saying you could, and I quote, 'hold your own' when I asked you how good you were? That was some amazing flying!”

“That's Harry for you, always playing down his abilities and accomplishments.”

Harry turned his attention to Ginny, who had just joined them. “Would you rather I brag and sound pompous like Malfoy?”

Ginny wrapped an arm around his waist. “Of course I don't, Harry. That doesn't mean that you should pretend you're something you're not, though, either.”

Harry simply shrugged. Though he'd always received praise from Uncle Remus, getting it from others still made him slightly uncomfortable, even when it came from Sirius or Ginny, a holdover no doubt from how he grew up. Maybe one day getting praise wouldn't embarrass him so much, but that day wasn't today.

Deciding it was time to get the focus off of him, he said, “Ginny, you were brilliant, naturally. Unless I'm mistaken, and I don't think I am, you scored quite a lot of those points.”

Ginny shook her head sadly, the look in her eyes telling him she knew he was deflecting the attention away from himself once again. As she always did, she let it go. Harry knew he was in for it later, though. Usually when he minimized an accomplishment or skill, Ginny spent thirty minutes later that same day extolling the things about him that she loved in the hopes that he'd grow accustomed to hearing the praise, or so she'd once told him. While highly embarrassing, coming from Ginny, the praise was getting easier to take.

“So, what did you think of Quodpot?” Chris asked, apparently picking up on the slight tension between them and changing the subject. “I know it's not as popular in England.”

Harry shrugged. “It was different. It seemed a bit crowded with the extra players, but I wouldn't object to playing a bit. Though, the one you'd really want to play with is Ginny since tossing and catching the ball is more her expertise than mine.”

“Wonderful flying, both of you!” Sirius exclaimed once he, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley reached them. “Ginny, congratulations on the scoring. If it weren't for you, the girls would have been woefully behind.”

Ginny grinned proudly, her cheeks taking on a slight pinkish hue, which Harry found incredibly cute, not to mention funny since she was always onto him about accepting praise. She certainly deserved it after that little bit of flying. More than once he'd had to tell himself to look for the Snitch, not for Ginny.

Harry nodded goodbye to Chris as the other boy walked away. Harry had learned from Chris earlier that his parents weren't coming this year, and Chris had admitted to being glad. From what Harry could gather, Chris was a bit embarrassed by his parents, or maybe Chris felt he was too old to have his parents around. When he'd first heard Chris mention it, Harry had been angry that his friend had felt that way, and perhaps a bit jealous as well, jealous that Chris had parents to be embarrassed over to begin with. Then Harry had thought about it and realized that that kind of normalcy was exactly the reason he was fighting in the first place.

After quick showers, as he and Ginny were sweaty from their game, Harry learned that he and Ginny–along with any other students with family present–were allowed to walk two blocks south to Magazine Street, which was where the students were allowed to go on some weekends, just like students at Hogwarts were allowed to go to Hogsmeade. Magazine Street, Sirius explained, was known for its six-mile stretch of shops, with everything from clothing, to books, jewelry, sweets, and cafes.

“I'm told,” Sirius went on to say, “that if you can't find it on Magazine Street, then you can't find it anywhere. So, what do you say? Interested in looking around?”

Harry knew Mr. Weasley's answer before the man ever spoke a word. Mr. Weasley's fascination with Muggles was quite well-known amongst the family and close friends. He exchanged glances with Ginny. She was just as excited to go as her dad was.

“Can we, please?” she begged. “Hermione's birthday is coming up soon and I want to find something for her.”

What was that about? They had some things for Hermione that they'd picked up on their travels. Confusion written all over his face, he started to ask Ginny what she was on about when she threw him a warning look, one he easily interpreted as Don't say a word. Harry's confusion cleared when Mrs. Weasley agreed to go, saying it wouldn't be nice to forget a birthday. With raised brows, Harry grinned at Ginny. She'd exploited one of Mrs. Weasley's greatest weaknesses, that of wanting everyone to feel loved and appreciated.

Once the decision was settled and the teens had grabbed their money bags, the five of them walked down the main drive to the street. Harry took Ginny's hand in his, leaned close, and whispered, “Nice work.”

Ginny shrugged, but grinned proudly. “I learned from the best,” she said.

Harry had no doubt about that. Her twin brothers were definitely sneaky gits when they wanted to be. Luckily for him, he got along well with them. That didn't mean, however, that he'd blindly trust either of them, especially when it came to food or drinks. He'd seen enough of their brilliant inventiveness to have learned that lesson well.

“If this is where the students go on those special weekends,” Mrs. Weasley began to ask as she looked from shop to shop, “then how do they get the … other items … needed for school?”

Sirius looked around a moment, found what he was looking for, then motioned for them to follow him towards one of the shops nearby. Harry knew they'd entered a Wizarding shop the instant they stepped inside. Shelves of the most common items, parchment, ink, quills, a few potions ingredients, and sweets littered the floor. On the walls hung various t-shirts with shelves underneath them stocked with the shirts on display. Another short shelf held a mix of Wizarding and Muggle books. By the door, a stand contained copies of what appeared to be a newspaper.

A short man with dark hair, brown eyes, and light brown skin greeted them in a slight Southern and French accent . “Bienvenue! Welcome! Are you here for Parents' Day?”

Sirius indicated Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. “They are. I'm staying at the school.”

“You must be Black, then. Lena told me about you and your charges.” He looked to Harry a long moment, then to Ginny.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Roux.” Again, Sirius indicated the elder Weasleys. “These are Ginny's parents. Molly, Arthur, this is Lena's husband, Alexandre.”

The man stuck out his hand. “Please, call me Alex. Only Lena calls me Alexandre, and only when I'm in serious trouble.”

So, this was Miss Lena's husband. He hadn't been around the school, or at least not when Harry was out of his room. Harry wondered why for only a minute before Mr. Roux explained he'd been so busy with the shop, getting it well-stocked for the upcoming year that he hadn't much time to relax. Harry found Mr. Roux's gaze on him once again, those dark eyes studying him. He seemed to nod to himself as if satisfied about something before briefly studying Ginny. Then, he returned his attention to Ginny's parents, responding to one of Mrs. Weasley's questions.

“I stock all the most common Wizarding items. However, if there's something you need that I don't have, you can go to Magic, Inc. from here via Portkey.” He pointed to a shelf filled with little colored glass globes behind his counter. “It's a timed Portkey. The colors indicate how long you have before it returns you here.”

“Ingenious!” Mr. Weasley remarked.

Harry wasn't all too sure he wanted to try taking a Portkey through those wards, not after what happened after Apparating through them. Granted, Side-Along Apparating always made him nauseous whereas using a Portkey usually didn't. Harry just wasn't sure if he wanted to know if it was a different experience. He'd just make sure he had what he needed or ask Sirius to get it for him.

They said goodbye to Mr. Roux and exited the shop. “Alright, Harry, Ginny, for future reference, this is as far this direction you can go. The shops continue that way,” Sirius indicated past the direction they'd come, “but you may not cross this street.” He motioned to the street they'd followed to get to where they were. “This street is your western border. You have six blocks from here that you may visit. If you can't find what you're looking for within those six blocks, then you'll have to rely on Owl Ordering something. Understood?”

“Yes, but how would they know if someone went past either border?”

Sirius scratched his head. “I don't know. Lena didn't tell me that. I assume it's some sort of Wizarding alarm or detector or something.”

“Should we be discussing such things out here in the open?” Mrs. Weasley inquired, anxiously looking around them.

“Ordinarily, I'd agree with you, but I've been told that there's a type of Notice-Me-Not Charm on this area in front of the shop. Muggles don't see the shop, nor do they hear anything out of the ordinary spoken in this area. Now, once we leave the front of the shop, yes, we'll need to take care about what we say. Now, that doesn't mean there aren't other Wizarding shops along this street; there are. In fact, a Wizarding shop marks the easternmost border. Well, shall we wander?”

Mindful of the fact that it was evening back home and that Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had been awake six hours longer than the rest of them, they didn't stay out very long, just long enough to get an idea of what was around. As they walked, they passed a restaurant that seemed to call to Harry. Maybe it was the name: Wolf Harbor. Whatever it was, Harry seemed unable to keep his eyes from wandering in that direction and he swore he'd find out more about it as soon as he could. The full dining room indicated the restaurant was quite popular.

Harry felt the hand in his give a gentle squeeze. He looked down at Ginny to see her watching him closely. He smiled softly. “I'm fine, just curious about that place. I feel … I don't know, I can't explain it, but it's a nice feeling. Every time I look at the place, I feel it.”

Ginny glanced over at the others to see if they'd overheard anything. Sirius and Mrs. Weasley were too busy shushing Mr. Weasley over his exclamations of admiration towards the Muggles that they weren't paying either of the teens any attention. Ginny smiled up at him.

“Well, then, I guess we'll have to go there as soon they allow us out, then, won't we?”

Harry grinned in response. “Yeah, I guess we will.”

The quintet walked around a short while, Ginny finding some nice stationery with a large faded Live Oak tree with hanging Spanish Moss on each page, and Harry picking up a shirt that read My friends went to New Orleans and all I got was this lousy shirt, then returned to the school. Sirius said he had planned on taking Ginny's parents to Magic Inc. before their Portkey took them home to the Burrow, but they'd run out of time.

Once again, Harry felt sorry for the tearful farewell between Ginny and her parents, so it surprised him completely when Mr. Weasley hugged him and pat him on his back. “Harry, take care of yourself–and let Ginny help you. I'd ask you to take care of Ginny, but I'm fairly certain I don't have to say a word on that.”

“No, sir, you don't, though she's more than capable of taking care of herself.”

Mr. Weasley nodded, smiling slightly. “And that, son, is why I believe you and she will be just fine.”

Harry blushed spectacularly as Mr. Weasley stepped over to his daughter. While it was really embarrassing to hear that from his girlfriend's father, it was comforting to Harry to know that Mr. Weasley had such confidence in them. Mrs. Weasley took Mr. Weasley's place and hugged Harry.

“Harry, dear, thank you.” Leaning back, she cupped his cheek. “You've given Ginny more than we ever could. Now, after having seen this place and having met the people, I feel much better about our decision to let her come here. It saddens me to say this, but I think Ginny needs this, to get away from Hogwarts and the memories there, to finally put them to rest. You've done wonders for her already. I think this school year will be a good one for you both.”

“Molly, we need to go. Our Portkey will be activating in just a minute or two.”

Mrs. Weasley acknowledged her husband with a nod. Harry could see tears brimming in the woman's eyes, but she smiled nonetheless. “Take care of each other. Learn a lot. Maybe we can arrange another Portkey to come at Christmas.”

Harry watched them walk the short distance to the designated Portkey area. Beside him, Ginny waved, tears rolling down her face. Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought they were happy tears; she was smiling at any rate. He amended that thought when Ginny tore off after her parents. Just as she gave her mum a hug, the Portkey activated, whisking them away.

“No! Ginny!”

“Don't worry, Harry, we'll get her back.”

Harry looked up at his godfather, fear pinching his features. “She was upset to see them go. Do you think … do you think maybe she decided she didn't want to stay after all?”

Sirius turned to face him, looking him square in the eye. “No, I don't. She loves you, Harry. She wouldn't leave you. This was a simple accident. She wanted to give her mum one last hug and got caught by the Portkey. That's all. I'm going to go down to the Ministry, see if I can get an emergency Portkey. I'll be back soon, with Ginny in tow. I promise.”

“Okay.” Harry still wasn't overly sure that Ginny hadn't changed her mind.

Sirius must have picked up on it for he gently squeezed Harry's shoulder. “Believe me, she'll be back. You have to believe in her.”

“But she yelled at me at breakfast and was crying just now–not just a few tears, either. She's yelled at me before, and I've seen her cry, but not like this. This time, she was more … emotional.”

Sirius pulled Harry away from the constant stream of people coming in and out the front door. “Er, Harry, Ginny's a girl and, well, girls get a little emotional from time to time. They can scold you in one breath and say sweet nothings in the next breath. Sometimes, they'll cry at nothing at all. It's all a part of being a girl, and it's our job, as blokes, to put up with it and to not mention it when it happens, or we'll suffer the consequences. After all, it's the whole package that attracts us, right?”

“If you say so. I just don't remember Ginny being quite so …” Harry struggled to find the right word.

“Mental?” Sirius supplied. “I'm sure, if you gave it some thought, you'd remember a few times in which Ginny was a bit … harsh … with you.”

Harry thought over his dealings with Ginny over the past year, discovering there were the occasional times when she seemed to lash out at him with her wicked temper, their argument that resulted in him being hexed being one of those times. And yes, there were a few times where it seemed she looked ready to cry over the simplest of things. There hadn't been that many instances of either thing happening, thankfully.

“Okay, yeah, I suppose there were,” Harry responded out loud. He looked up at Sirius to find his godfather staring uncomfortably down at him. “What?”

“Er, Harry, I just had an awful thought. Exactly how much about girls did Remus tell you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like, er, their physical changes and things of that nature.”

Sirius' face flushed with color as did Harry's. They were touching on some very awkward ground here. Harry cleared his throat, running a hand through his hair. “Well, he told me about, you know, the obvious stuff, babies and … and …” That was all Harry could get out.

“And the less obvious stuff?”

Harry groaned, feeling his entire body flush with embarrassment. “Sirius, do we have to talk about this?”

“I think we do. I can't believe Remus didn't discuss this with you. I'm going to make it short and sweet, though. For one week a month, girls tend to get a little more emotional or irrational than usual. It has to do with their hormones. Okay, done.”

“Good. Now, go get Ginny back. And for the record, I think he was going to. He did say there was more he wanted to tell me. He just never did.”

“Right. Now, don't be surprised if I don't bring Ginny back until morning. It's late there, remember.”

Harry didn't like the idea of not seeing Ginny until morning, but there was little he could do about it. “Yeah, okay.”

Harry watched Sirius walk away. Loneliness suddenly swamped him, a loneliness so extreme Harry could barely breathe. His gaze drifted to his surroundings, landing on groups of students laughing and having a good time. For all the friendliness that they displayed, Harry was still an outsider, but then, that was nothing new. He'd been an outsider all his life, never fitting in anywhere. As he continued looking around, Harry found himself longing for familiarity. Thinking he could, perhaps, talk to Hermione, Harry hurried off to find either of Ginny's roommates.

After convincing Raven to check Ginny's shelf or beside table for the mirror, he waited impatiently for her return, pacing in front of the corridor that led to the girls' wing. The idea of talking with Hermione, and perhaps finding out Dumbledore's reaction to them being gone, built inside him until it was nearly overwhelming. His heart pounded in his chest, adrenaline making his hands shake and his breathing quicken.

The dark-haired girl returned, her expression hitting him like a Bludger to his chest. “I'm sorry, Harry. I didn't see it. I didn't feel right going through any of the drawers.”

“No, that's okay. Thanks for looking.”

Wanting to howl at the injustice of it all, Harry shuffled out into the heat. Ginny's absence left a gaping hole inside him. His head knew she would be back soon–at least most of it did. There was still that niggling doubt. His heart kept repeating one thing: Ginny wasn't with him. He already missed her infectious laughter, her tender responses to him. He even missed her temper! Harry hoped she wasn't gone long. Ginny was all that was good and light in his world, and he knew for certain he wouldn't be able to function long without her around. She reminded him of what exactly they were fighting for.

Dropping down onto one of the benches in the gazebo on the front grounds, Harry sighed morosely, and stared off into the distance as if he could somehow see her at the Burrow but couldn't speak to her, nor touch her. He didn't know how long he sat there before approaching footsteps registered in his brain. Turning, he saw Miss Lena nearly upon him. It surprised him a bit when she asked if she could join him, so he motioned for her to go ahead.

“Sirius told me what happened. He'll bring her back as soon as he can.”

Harry lifted his leg to his chest, placing his heel on the bench seat, his right hand rubbing at his knee, his ring Morse-coding in the sunlight behind him peeking through the gazebo. “I know he will.”

“It doesn't feel like it, though, does it?”

Harry's gaze flew to his Headmistress. “I'm just being stupid. I know that I am.”

“Nonsense. For those lucky enough to love deeply, being separated is a nearly unbearable thing, no matter how long or short the separation.” At Harry's expression of shock, she chuckled. “You kids aren't the only ones capable of loving, chéri.”

“I suppose not. I guess I'm just not used to people understanding exactly how I feel. Not to mention the fact that you act as if it isn't inconceivable for someone my age to actually love someone.”

We're all a little weird,” she began to quote. “And life is a little weird. And when we find someone whose weirdness is compatible with ours, we join up with them and fall into mutually satisfying weirdness–and call it love–true love. That's one of my favorite quotes because it is very true.”

For the first time since Ginny disappeared, Harry felt one corner of his mouth turn upward just a bit. “Yeah, I have to agree with whoever said it. Though, I don't know that I'd describe my life as being weird. Lonely is the word I'd choose. Well, until I met Ginny, anyway.”

The best love is the kind that awakens the soul and makes us reach for more, that plants a fire in our hearts and brings peace to our minds …

“Exactly! That's exactly how Ginny makes me feel!”

“And I'm sure she feels the same about you. Well, I've probably kept you from your thoughts long enough. If you need anything, come see me. Feel the need to talk? Come see me.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, feeling slightly better. “I will.”

After Miss Lena left, Harry wandered the grounds, hands stuffed into his pockets, until Chris caught up with him and challenged him to another game of pool, claiming Harry was one up on him and he wanted the chance to even the score. Harry's automatic response was to decline, but he accepted instead, thinking he shouldn't push his friends away. Ginny certainly wouldn't want him to. With her imagined voice ringing approval in his head, Harry followed Chris into the game room.

0000


“No! Harry!” Ginny spun out of her mother's embrace. “I have to get back to Harry!”

“I don't know if that's possible, Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley said.

Ginny whirled around to face her mother, her cheeks reddening, eyes blazing as her temper spiked. “Tell me you didn't plan for this. Please tell me this was not your intent all along.”

“Now, see here, young lady!”

“Ginny,” Mr. Weasley cut in, “we did not mean for this to happen. Of course, we didn't. If you'll recall, you came to us. You knew the Portkey was seconds away from activating. Are you certain you didn't plan for this?”

“Of course I didn't! My place is with Harry! He's going to be so worried! He's probably going to think I had intentionally left him! I have to get back there! School starts in two days!”

“I'm sure Harry will be just fine without you for a while, Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley countered.

“You don't understand. Deep down, he's still very insecure. He still struggles with the idea that people actually like him. The few serious disagreements we've had, he apologized profusely, practically begging me to forgive him.” Ginny sniffled as tears formed in her eyes. “He reminds me of an abused puppy, afraid to hope for a friendly touch, yet unable to do anything else.”

Mr. Weasley wrapped an arm around Ginny. “I'm sure Sirius is working on things, even as we speak. It's late. Why don't we go on up to bed? Sirius probably won't be able to do anything until tomorrow anyway.”

Ginny wiped her eyes. “I'm going to make a sandwich since I'll be missing dinner.”

She ate quickly, then vaguely bid her parents good night and climbed the familiar stairs to her familiar bedroom door. Stepping inside, she shut said door, then dropped onto her once-familiar bed. It felt odd being back home after all the traveling she'd done, all the rooms she'd stayed in and beds she'd slept in. In all honesty, she felt as if this room belonged to a younger, less worldly Ginny. There was something about the room that simply screamed naiveté, even after all she'd gone through in her first Hogwarts year. Maybe it was just her own perspective coloring how she viewed the bedroom, but she didn't feel as if she belonged in this room any longer, and that saddened her somewhat.

Climbing under the blanket, Ginny huddled there. “I'm coming back, Harry,” she murmured, “just as soon as I can. Please don't think that I left on purpose.”

Though she wasn't the least bit tired, Ginny lay there, listening to the settling of the house, the ghoul in the attic, all the normal sounds of silence. She missed Harry dreadfully, regardless of the fact that she hadn't been gone but for a few minutes, all the miles she knew to be between them like huge canyons impossible to cross. It wasn't a feeling she liked much at all, and she hoped Sirius could soon get the necessary Portkey to take her back there.

She wasn't sure how long she lay in bed, but after a while, she sighed and paced her room. She was bored. She couldn't sleep, she'd taken all her books with her so there was nothing to read. Ginny walked over to her desk and randomly pulled out drawers in the hopes that something would miraculously be there. Imagine her surprise when she actually found something.

The book she found was barely longer than her hand, bound in dragon hide from a Welsh Green that had died of old age. Her brother Charlie had gifted the diary to her before her first year at Hogwarts. She hadn't written much in it as she'd begun writing in Riddle's diary by that point and had been excited to have a book respond to her. Ginny shuddered at how naive she'd been. Taking the dragon-hide diary back to her bed, she sat and opened it. She smiled at the first page. It was full of doodles about Harry: HP + GW, GW ♥ HP, Mrs. Harry Potter, H lightning bolt P. They were doodles of a young girl fascinated with a storybook hero. The next few pages had similar drawings. The last page she'd written on contained her thoughts on Harry, where he was, what he was doing, along with hopes that he wasn't too sad about losing his parents.

Overcome with the sudden urge to write, Ginny crept down the stairs, automatically skipping the creaky step, and rummaged around in the low light for quill and ink. Walking over to the table, she lit several candles and carried them to the sitting room. She pulled the low table in front of the sofa out a bit and dropped onto the floor with her back to the sofa. Settling in, she inked her quill and began to write.

Hours later, her hand cramping, back aching, and bum numb, Ginny put down her quill, stretched and yawned. The fire had long since gone out, leaving a few embers smoldering in the hearth. One glance at the clock told her it was four o'clock in the morning, ten o'clock at night back in New Orleans. Closing her book, Ginny struggled to her feet, found a spare bit of parchment and wrote out a note to her mum, asking not to be awakened early so that her sleep patterns weren't interrupted. Leaving the note on the kitchen table, she retrieved her book, blew out the candles and headed for the stairs.

As she passed her mum's special clock, she noticed her hand pointed to Traveling, rather than to Home. Ginny wasn't sure what to make of that. She stood, rooted to the spot, thinking over what the clock was telling her. She understood why it didn't point to School; she wasn't at school. Why Traveling rather than Home? Pondering it for several minutes, Ginny came to the conclusion that it was the simple fact that she didn't see herself as being home anymore. When she thought of home, Harry immediately came to mind. She smiled, though it was tinged with sadness. Then, her expression turned fierce. She knew she was in for it when her mum noticed. With any luck, however, she'd be gone before her mum even noticed.

Taking in a deep breath, Ginny crept back up the stairs to her room. Afraid to leave the book out where it could be seen by anyone, she slipped it under her pillow, then lay down. Despite being tired, it took her several minutes to fall asleep in a bed she hadn't slept in for over three weeks.

0000


When Ginny next opened her eyes, the sun was well up. Footsteps climbed the stairs and stopped outside her bedroom door.

“Ginny, dear? It's noon. You need to get up now and have some lunch. Or I can make you some breakfast if you wish.”

“Thanks, Mum, for letting me sleep. I think breakfast would be nice.” Ginny yawned, stretched, then rubbed her eyes. “Have you heard from Sirius yet?”

Ginny's door opened, admitting her mother. “No, but your father thought it may take some time. He thought there was a chance their Ministry may want to contact ours to make sure you weren't being taken against your will.”

Adrenaline woke her instantly and she stared, horrified, at her mother. “Mum, they can't know!”

Mrs. Weasley sat on Ginny's bed and patted Ginny's knee, smiling reassuringly. “Don't worry. It'll be handled. It just so happens that Sirius has a cousin who's an Auror. Your father is filling her in on things so that she can intercept that Floo call and make it all official. And who knows? Maybe she'll call them first.”

“I hope so. I like being here, but I'm anxious to get back there. I'm worried about how Harry's coping. I know you think he's fine, and I hope he is, but I can't help worrying.”

“It's good of you to be concerned, but there's not much that can be done right this minute. Get up and come on down. I'm thinking you won't be here much longer — a couple hours at most.” Mrs. Weasley patted Ginny's knee again. “Come on. You can help me make a treacle tart to take back to Harry, a miniature one.”

“Okay, Mum. I'll be down in a few minutes.”

Once her mum left, Ginny climbed out of bed, finger-combed her hair as best she could, then wrapped it up in a bun on her head, securing it with her wand. It wasn't perfect, and it likely would collapse in short order, but it would have to do. Stepping down the hall, she washed as best she could. She eyed the shower longingly, but settled for a Freshening Charm from her mum once she was downstairs. She ate her breakfast of eggs, sausages, and toast. Then, under the watchful eye of her mother, Ginny started on Harry's favorite thing for pudding.

Carefully, Ginny made the dough. While it normally had to sit in cold storage for a couple hours, Mrs. Weasley cast a charm on it so they didn't have to wait. Once it was rolled out and placed in the pan, Ginny rolled out the batch of dough she'd made for the lattice-work top, cutting it into strips. Again, Mrs. Weasley cast the Cooling Charm on both doughs.

Once Ginny had made the tart's filling, she added it to the dough in the pan, then placed the strips over the top at angles to each other, creating a diamond pattern. She brushed the top with a mix of egg yolk and cream. The tart assembled, it was put in to bake.

“You did that very well, Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley complimented her.

Ginny smiled over her shoulder at her mum, washing her hands of excess flour. “Thanks, Mum. I learned from the best.”

“Thank you, dear. And look, it's nearly two o'clock! I think we'll be seeing Sirius soon.”

Ginny tried not to look excited at the prospect of returning to America and to Harry; she didn't want to hurt her mum's feelings. When her mum smiled softly in her direction, Ginny knew she hadn't been very successful.

“You don't have to hide your excitement from me, Ginny. I know you're anxious to get back there.”

Ginny dried her hands and joined her mum at the table. “Sorry. I didn't want you to think that I didn't want to be here.”

Mrs. Weasley sighed. “Ginny, you're growing up. You're not going to want to spend every moment at home anymore. I know that, and can understand it. I was anxious to get out of my mother's house, too. It's only natural.”

“Thanks, Mum, for understanding.”

As the tart baked, filling the kitchen with its sweet aroma, Ginny talked about her expectations for her classes, what she hoped to learn, how she hoped the professors taught. Before long, the tart was ready to be brought out of the oven. Again under her mum's watchful eye, Ginny took out the finished tart and set it in the window to cool.

“You did a good job with that, Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley said, eyeing the tart. “Harry will love it.”

Ginny grinned proudly. “Thanks.” She'd watched her mum make the tart many times, and had even helped, but she'd never done the entire thing on her own — until now.

A knock on the front door froze the two of them. Mrs. Weasley hastily, yet quietly, ushered Ginny out the back door. “Just in case it's Dumbledore looking for you again. Listen at the window. If it is, run off toward the pond. I'll come get you when it's safe to come back.”

Ginny squatted underneath the kitchen window, back braced against the wall, muscles tensed, ready to run if necessary. The voice that reached her ears, however, was the one she'd been anticipating since she'd accidentally returned to the Burrow the night before. Wasting no time, she ran into the kitchen and straight into Sirius' arms.

“I'm so glad you're here!”

Amused, Sirius said, “I can see that. Sorry it took so long.” Sirius rolled his eyes. “The Ministry there insisted on checking with ours to make sure you weren't being taken forcefully.” He looked over at Mrs. Weasley. “Nice thinking to use Tonks as the contact, by the way.”

“Arthur thought it best if she could be the one to respond to the Fire Call.”

Sirius nodded his agreement as Ginny stepped away from him, looking up at him anxiously. “How's Harry? He doesn't think I purposefully left him, does he?”

“I don't know if he seriously thought it. He may have had a few doubts, though. I know he was quite depressed when I came back to the school and told him you weren't going to be coming back right away. Eventually, he perked up enough to have a bit of fun with some friends. He does miss you, barely ate at breakfast. When I left, he was working in the Care of Magical Creatures stables, helping clean out stalls or something.”

“I've missed him, too. I assume we're going back by Portkey. When is it set to activate?”

“Yes, we are going back by Portkey and it'll activate as soon as I tap it with my wand. So, are you ready to go? I don't mean to rush, but I feel like we're tempting Fate the longer we're here. Besides, as I stated before, there's a certain someone who's very anxious to see you again.”

Running to the window to gather the cooling tart into a towel, she then rushed back to Sirius. “I'm ready. I made Harry a treacle tart.”

Sirius barked out a laugh. “Learned already have you that if you feed a bloke his favorites, then he'll keep coming back for more?”

Ginny blushed at Sirius' teasing. Mrs. Weasley jumped up, hurried over to the counter where half of an apple pie sat, wrapped it up in a towel, and handed it to Sirius.

“Thank you, Sirius, for watching out for them both. Arthur and I can't repay you enough.”

“You don't have to repay me, Molly, but I'm certainly not going to turn down any of your cooking, especially your pies. I wasn't entirely jesting when I said a bloke keeps returning when given his favorites.”

“Oh, you!” Mrs. Weasley waved a hand at him, smiling. “Now, off with you. I don't want to keep Harry waiting.”

After giving her mum a final hug, Ginny left the Burrow with Sirius for the second time in less than a month. Outside the protective wards, Sirius produced their Portkey: a pencil. Ginny took hold of the eraser end, while Sirius took the sharpened end in his left hand, tapping the middle of the pencil with his wand. The tug behind her navel took her a bit by surprise, not because of the tug itself, but because of the severity of it. She felt as if her stomach was being pulled through her skin! Like a rocket, she left the ground, her long plait whipping violently in the howling wind, the pressure making it hard to draw breath. Dizzying kaleidoscopic colors swirled before her eyes. Ginny closed them tightly in hopes of warding off a headache.

Just as her lungs began to hurt from lack of oxygen, she slammed painfully into the ground. She lay there catching her breath as her other senses caught up. The thick carpet of grass cradled her comfortably. Birds sang overhead. Scents from the roses, jasmines, four o'clocks, and the nearby magnolia trees drifted in on a light breeze, making her smile. She was home.







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