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New Year, New Hope | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Angst, Drama, Fluff, General Warnings: None Story is Complete Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 117 Summary: It's Harry's sixth year and Ginny Weasley's "Harry-Watching" has paid off. In this sequel to "You're Still You" the two teens explore their new relationship while dealing with the challenges of life threatened by war. Hitcount: Story Total: 89468; Chapter Total: 5643 |
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New Year, New Hope Part Nine A/N: As Valentine’s Day 2006 approaches, I feel it’s time to find the romantic in our young hero. My beta at Phoenix Song, Aggiebell, asked if Harry had Neville’s help in choosing Ginny’s gift. The answer is ‘no’; Harry came up with the idea all on his own. He whispered to me that it was his way of making Valentine’s Day a memorable one for Ginny. Aggiebell, thank you for the advice and help you gave me with this chapter. You gave me the reasons to do with it what I was inclined to do in the first place. Harry, Ron, Hermione, Luna, Ginny and Neville met Kingsley Shacklebolt in an unused classroom for their first group duelling session after dinner on Monday evening. The fact that the lesson soon resembled a miniature DA meeting immediately put the friends at ease. This was familiar territory, something they had prior knowledge of, as opposed to their Tai Chi lessons each morning, and as soon as they had done some preliminary exercises–a ten-minute warm-up period where they performed every spell Harry had ever taught them while their instructor took notes on a clipboard–they paired up and tried a new spell, a Trip Jinx that Harry remember Malfoy using on him the night the DA had been compromised. They hadn’t been at it for very long before Ron began complaining that his elbows and knees were becoming raw from hitting the floor so hard. Harry skidded up to him on his stomach, sent his way by Neville’s well-placed hex. “Fourth year Third Task practice all over again, mate?” he quipped, grinning at his friend. Ron’s ears turned scarlet. “Yeah, thanks for reminding me, Harry,” he sulked. He picked himself up again and turned his back on Ginny so she could have another go at the spell. “Professor Shacklebolt, what good will a Trip Jinx do us in a major duel?” Hermione inquired sceptically five minutes later. “Throw your opponent off balance and you just may save yourself from a major amount of pain,” Harry answered before the Auror could. “Very succinct answer, Harry,” Professor Shacklebolt observed. “I’ll remember that,” Hermione said, satisfied by Harry’s answer. The pairs were soon turned into trios. Each person had a specific job to do as either a runner, a trainee or a placer. The runner ran away from the trainee who attempted to trip her while the placer stood by ready to position some of Professor Flitwick’s pillows under him when the runner was sent sprawling. “A moving target is much harder to hit,” Professor Shacklebolt intoned knowingly before he turned the group loose again. When everyone had had a turn with all three positions he dimmed the lights and called the group to order. “We need a scenario,” he told the group. “Let us pretend that our classroom is in an underground cavern.” Several of the group, including Ginny, scowled at this idea and their instructor hurriedly offered his explanation. “You know from experience that when we duel in the real world, it’s usually not in the best of conditions; there may be obstacles hampering a direct view of the opponent, the footing may be treacherous, and visibility can often be quite poor. One never really is lucky enough to duel in a place as big and empty as the Great Hall or, say, the lawns around the castle. What I’m going to do now is create a duelling space that hampers your vision–next session, I’ll vary the conditions in a different way. “Please get into your spell practice trios again. Mr. Potter, Mr. Longbottom and Miss Granger gather near the door. Mr. Weasley, Miss Lovegood and Miss Weasley, please begin together over there somewhere,” he pointed in the opposite direction. “You have three minutes to track and tickle or trip each other in the dark. The team with the most members left standing at the end of the three minutes wins. Have I made myself clear? Good. On three. One…two…three!” The lights suddenly went dark and Ginny unexpectedly found herself battling a panic she thought she had rid herself of long ago: her mind had transported her to the underground cavernous room where she had first set eyes on the dim figure of Tom Riddle emerging from her diary. She froze, fighting the need to flee the spectre, and only just managed to dodge a Trip Jinx when Ron grabbed her arm, tugging her away from the spell. “Get between Luna and me,” he ordered firmly, his commanding tone betraying his concern for her. “That was too close.” Ginny had to agree as the three circled the room listening intently for clues to the other team’s whereabouts. She momentarily clutched her angel pendant feeling its comforting magic, then followed after Ron. The movement helped her focus on the task at hand. She heard someone on her left cough and sent a Tickling Charm in that direction. As soon as the spell left her wand, she instinctively pulled Ron and Luna behind a row of nearby desks. The three quickly crawled away under their cover. “What’d you do that for?” Ron demanded over his shoulder in a hoarse whisper. “You just gave our position away.” “Just watch,” Ginny whispered back as the other team returned fire from three different positions. “Now we know where they are approximately, too. Your little sister isn’t as dumb as you think she is.” “I never–” Ron sputtered. “They must have spread out,” Luna interrupted. “Ron, do you have any ideas?” Ginny asked changing the subject. Ron didn’t reply right away and Ginny knew without having to look that he had settled into his chess tactics mode of thinking. “Let’s go after them one at a time,” he finally muttered. “Neville’s probably the easiest, then Hermione, then Harry.” “Which one’s which? How can you tell?” “Listen for their footsteps. Neville’s are the heaviest–he’s wearing boots tonight. Harry’s still got on his uniform shoes which aren’t as heavy as Neville’s boots but are still easy to distinguish from Hermione’s trainers. Hermione’s…well, er…she doesn’t weigh as much so her footfalls are…erm…much softer.” “Gotcha,” Ginny whispered a smile curling her lips at Ron’s hesitant description of his girlfriend. The three crouched low for several seconds listening to the other team moving around the room and Ginny thought she could hear Neville’s boots crunching the gritty dust on the floor in front of her. Suddenly, Luna pointed her wand and sent a Tickling Hex straight ahead. Neville’s loud shouts of laughter filled the room. “One down…” Luna said triumphantly just as she herself was hit with the same hex. “Let’s split up,” Ginny suggested to Ron as their instructor levitated Luna and Neville behind the teacher’s desk and cancelled the spells. “I’ll go back the way we came. Maybe we can pick them off from behind.” Ron nodded in agreement and began crawling away toward the door. Ginny watched his trainers recede into the dark corners, a feeling of mild panic sweeping over her again. This is just an exercise, she told herself sternly. Focus on the objective and hex Harry! “Like you could really do that,” a little voice in her head scoffed. She chose to ignore it and sat listening to the sounds of her surroundings before moving from her hiding place. She had crawled perhaps twenty paces when she heard the rustle of robes. Smiling to herself, Ginny took careful aim and whispered the incantation for the new Trip Jinx. As the spell shot from her wand an identical spell was hurled her way. She ducked, dodging right and firing a Tickling Charm toward her attacker. The two traded several more volleys until Ginny heard the thud of someone falling flat on the floor, just as the lights came back on. Cheering, Ginny emerged from behind the desk she had hidden behind to see Hermione sitting several yards away nursing a banged-up elbow. Ron let out a whoop of delight as Ginny exclaimed, “We won, Ron!” Harry extended his hand to Ron. “Well done, mate,” he said smiling. “Tactics beat out spur-of-the-moment hot-headedness every time.” Ron’s ears turned pink for the second time in an hour under Harry’s praise and he remained silent as the group gathered around the teacher’s desk to see what they’d be doing next. “First of all, from now on, please call me Kingsley. You’ve all known me as Kingsley for over a year now and I feel rather awkward being called ‘Professor’. Also, if we’re going to work together to get you to improve your skills use of our given names has been proven to build trust and camaraderie faster than titles and surnames. “Right. Now for a few notes. You work together very well,” Kingsley stated surveying the group over the top of his clipboard. “I have a feeling that if I rearranged the group configurations you’d all work together equally well. The fact that the six of you have done battle together shows in the high level of trust and communication I saw going on in this exercise. I have a few observations and criticisms I’d like to discuss now.” He consulted his clip board. “Ginny, at the start of the exercise you seemed to freeze in place. Is there a reason for it?” The question took Ginny quite by surprise. She stared at the floor as she answered, “I was caught by some rather unpleasant memories, sir, and lost my focus.” “Has this ever happened before?” The question was not accusatory in tone. “No, sir. Never,” Ginny answered as Harry shot her a questioning look. She shook her head at him and mouthed, “Later.” “Not even last June?” “No, sir. I, we were too scared and too busy trying to survive for me to dwell on such things. I was focused on helping Harry and my friends.” “I understand that, Ginny. I apologize if I have made you uncomfortable. I’m just trying to understand what happened just now. You seemed to recover quickly when given the chance and support from your comrades.” “It wasn’t that hard to do. All I needed was a nudge in the right direction,” Ginny said truthfully. “And Mr. Weasley’s quick thinking kept you from being the first out of the exercise.” Ginny smiled at Ron. “Ron’s looked out for me since I was old enough to walk. It’s not easy growing up as Fred and George’s little sister.” Kingsley let out a low, rumbling chuckle. “Right. Safety in numbers…” he said. He made some notes on his clipboard and then turned to Neville. “I have a suggestion for you: Either learn to walk quietly in those boots or wear different shoes next time. Your opponents were able to find you just by listening to you walk.” Neville looked abashed as he mumbled, “Yes, sir. I thought as much.” Kingsley looked a little disconcerted at Neville’s meek acceptance of his criticism. It must have been his first experience with someone like Neville, for he certainly didn’t react like any of Ginny’s other teachers to Neville’s demeanour. Hermione caught Ginny’s eye and shook her head; they both suspected that Neville’s Gran was the reason for her grandson’s subservient response to authoritative criticism. From just one meeting in St. Mungo’s both girls had deduced that Mrs. Longbottom treated Neville like a little boy whom she found lacking in every sense of the word. The determined look on Hermione’s face told Ginny that her friend was gearing up to try to cheer Neville up after the lesson ended. An exasperated exclamation from Kingsley brought Ginny back to the lesson. “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Luna, there were no nincompimples telling you to stand up and look to see who you’d hit with your spell!” Luna shrugged as if to say, “There were, too!” as the critique of the group’s tactics move to Hermione. Ginny tuned out for the moment to further ponder Luna’s behaviour. By now, after nearly five years of observing her friend in lessons, Ginny suspected that Luna loved bating new teachers with her unusual pronouncements just to see what she could get away with and what the instructor’s exasperation point was. Clearly, she had pushed Kingsley past his frustration point and was satisfied with the degree of battiness she could achieve during lessons. If past first lessons were a pattern, Ginny knew Luna would work hard to learn the day’s lesson before she began experimenting and seemingly goofing off in class. Ginny’s mind stopped its wandering as Ron came under Kingsley’s scrutiny. “Ron, I commend you for two things: first, you pulled your sister to safety while exposing your person to danger, and second, you helped your team by developing a strategy that was easy to achieve as a goal. I can see why Professor Dumbledore thinks so highly of you.” As Ron stood dumbfounded next to Harry, Kingsley continued, “So that ends tonight’s lesson. School rules dictate that I can’t keep you past nine o’clock and even though it’s only half-past seven at the moment I think it’s best we part for the evening. You undoubtedly have homework and I must get back to London. I’ll see you back here on Wednesday night and we’ll do some drills of defensive spells you know. You need to know these spells so well that you don’t have to think or speak the incantations when the fighting gets hairy.” He paused and looked at each student except Harry. “If all of you are intent on helping Harry, the more dedicated you are to honing your defensive magic, the more you will help him.” Everyone nodded solemnly. “Now for your assignment. I’d like a foot of parchment on how you see your performance during tonight’s exercise to be turned in on Wednesday. Until then, constant vigilance.” “I thought ‘constant vigilance’ was Mad-eye Moody’s line,” Ron said a few minutes later as they trooped toward the stairs. “It is, but I think Mad-eye tends to rub off on those he trains,” Harry remarked. “I thought it was a good idea that he reminded us to be careful,” Hermione said thoughtfully. “The Slytherins are meaner than ever this year,” Neville observed. “It’s getting harder to watch your back with them lurking behind every corner, statue or suit of armour.” “What do you mean?” Luna asked. “Well, just last Thursday I caught a couple of Slytherin seventh years picking on a Hufflepuff second year outside the greenhouses.” “What happened?” Ginny asked. “I went to get Professor Sprout. She gave the Slytherins a week’s worth of detentions.” He grinned. “I got to supervise one of them shovelling dragon dung into the compost pile the next day after lessons. By the time he was through he was covered from head to foot with the stinking stuff.” “And what happened to the other one?” Harry asked his face alight with anticipation. Neville rubbed his hands together gleefully. “I get the other one after lessons tomorrow. I can hardly wait!” “Neville, I’m surprised at you,” Ron exclaimed. “Do I detect a degree of malicious satisfaction or are you just happily gloating?” “Both,” Neville said, grinning, causing the others to chuckle at the Slytherins’ expense. By now, they had reached the stairs leading down to the Entrance Hall. Luna stopped and wished them all good-night before leaving them to go down to her common room. Harry and Ginny lingered to watch her descend to the Entrance Hall as the rest of the group continued their ascent to Gryffindor Tower. “Ginny, what happened tonight?” Harry inquired his face full of concern. Ginny fidgeted with a strand of her hair as she replied simply, “Riddle.” “Flashbacks?” “Uh-huh.” Harry drew her into a loose one-armed hug that felt very comforting. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked as they reached the portrait hole. He mumbled the password and the Fat Lady swung forward. Ginny shook her head. “I’ll be fine, Harry, after I write that essay we were assigned. I think Kingsley gave it to us to help me get over what happened.” She climbed through the hole and waited for him to follow her. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hermione and Ron trying to show Neville how to walk with a stealthy tread. She grinned and pointed this out to Harry who shook his head and smiled back. “Shall we go to the library and get our essays done, then?” she asked coyly knowing full well that Harry had other ideas on where they could go…and they didn’t involve much available light to revise by. Harry threw his head back, chuckling. “You’ve been around Hermione too much lately. I think she’s rubbing off on you.” Ginny scowled. “She is not. And don’t you ever let her hear you say that!” Harry smirked at her as he said, “Let me get my bag and I’ll meet you back here in five minutes.” “See you in a bit,” Ginny said and pushed open the door to the girls’ stairs. She was looking forward to going to the library tonight and it was all because she would have Harry’s company. *+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+* Frida y was Valentine’s Day. Knowing that the ball was the next evening, Ginny didn’t expect to receive anything from Harry. She was therefore quite surprised when he met her at the bottom of the girls’ stairs that morning, a shy smile hovering about his lips. He was obviously hiding something behind his back. “Good morning, Harry,” Ginny greeted him, stopping on the last step so that she didn’t have to stand on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. “Happy Valentine’s Day, Ginny,” he told her bashfully. He held out a small bouquet of flowers to her. “Hedwig made a special trip for these. They’ve been charmed to stay fresh without water.” Ginny flashed him a brilliant smile. “Thank you, Harry,” she said taking the flowers. She noticed there were several varieties she didn’t recognize. “Are these Muggle flowers?” “Yeah, they are. I didn’t want them biting your nose or sticking a leaf in your ear when you sniffed them,” he said looking sheepish. “Oh, Harry, you’re so thoughtful!” she exclaimed as he plucked a white gardenia from the middle of the bouquet and tucked it behind her ear. He led her over to one of the chairs facing a corner and pulled her into his lap. “I think you are lovely today, Ginny. Did you know that?” he commented. She giggled as she glanced at her uniform. “If you say so,” she told him as she wriggled around in his lap to get comfortable. “Tell me about the flowers.” Harry held onto her arm to steady the bouquet. “My Aunt has many of these in her garden. Most of them are planted annually and some are even considered weeds.” He chuckled sadistically, “I’ve weeded them enough to know what they are at least,” he said as he pulled the bouquet closer to him. “Oi, Harry! If you two canoodle much longer you’re going to miss breakfast!” Ron interrupted them causing both Harry and Ginny to jump. “Happy Valentine’s Day to you, too, dear brother,” Ginny smirked sliding off Harry’s lap. She looked at her watch. “I’ll meet you in the Great Hall. I’m going to put these on my bedside table,” she told Harry and sprinted up the stairs to her room. Forty-five minutes later, Ginny breathlessly joined Luna and two other Ravenclaws at their table in Greenhouse Three. Through the open door she could see Neville Longbottom pruning a shrub that he had tied securely to a stout pole. The plant’s fanged flowers strained against their bindings in a futile attempt to bite his gloved hands. “You’re late,” Luna commented pointing out the obvious. “We can’t start without you.” “I know. Harry and I had breakfast together and we lingered a little too long,” Ginny said as she selected a trowel from a flower pot on Professor Sprout’s work table and prepared to shovel dirt around the jumping juniper Luna was straining to hold in its new pot. “Luna, I need a favour. Could you come with me to the library during break? There’s something I’d like to look up and two pairs of eyes are better than one.” “Which broom cupboard did you use?” Luna asked with a smirk as their juniper twisted in her hands. Ginny stuck her trowel into the mixture of dirt and dragon manure Luna had already prepared. “I’m not telling you,” she said loftily and poured a large measure over the juniper’s root system. “Put down your trowels and bring your pots to me,” Professor Sprout called at the end of the hour. Ginny heaved a sigh of relief and helped Luna carry the four jumping junipers they had re-potted over to the watering station where the professor was now standing. “Why are we going to the library?” Luna enquired as they put away their trowels and picked up their bags. “I’ll show you when we get there,” Ginny told her vaguely leading her friend up the stone steps at a brisk pace. Five minutes later, Ginny stood on tiptoe to reach a large book on a high shelf in the Muggle Studies section of the library saying, “Harry gave me a bouquet of Muggle flowers this morning and insisted on telling me what each one was. I think he wants me to look up what they mean.” She handed the book, Flower Talk: a Guide to the Language of Flowers in the Victorian Era by Daisy Chane, to Luna and pulled out the list of flowers she had scribbled at breakfast when Harry wasn’t looking. “Oh, a mystery to solve,” Luna observed. “I’ll be glad to help.” They carried the book to a nearby table and set to work. With two looking up the common names of the eight species in the bouquet they finished with almost five minutes of their break to spare. “Okay,” Ginny sighed looking at their notes. “What do you make of this?” Luna took out a fresh roll of parchment and tore it into eight pieces. “Did Harry give you the gardenia, too?” she asked writing on one of the pieces. “Yes, he plucked it out of the middle of the bouquet.” “Did he say anything cryptic?” “Yeah, he did, come to think of it.” Ginny frowned in concentration. “He said, ‘I think you are lovely today’ which made me laugh because I’m wearing my uniform.” “Did you look up gardenias?” “Uh-huh. They mean ‘you’re lovely’ or ‘secret love’.” Luna beamed and began writing as fast as she could. “Ginny, Harry wrote you a love letter in flowers. Oh, this is so romantic!” Ginny giggled. “You sound like Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil.” She picked up the first two pieces of parchment and peered at them. Luna shrugged. “I’m having fun, Ginny. Thanks for asking me to help. Now all we have to do is figure out how to group the flowers so that you understand what Harry’s trying to tell you.” The bell rang making them jump. “We’ll have to do that in Charms. C’mon or we’ll be late,” Ginny said grabbing the flower book and setting it on a shelf she could reach. Luna shoved the pieces of parchment into Ginny’s bag and the two sprinted down the corridor toward the Charms classroom. *+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*+* Gin ny dropped her school bag at the foot of the old tree down by the lake and sat, leaning against the trunk and gazing out over the water. It was too cold to be out here, if only for a few frigid minutes, but in the crowded castle there really weren’t many places where she could truly be alone. With a frustrated sigh, she dug a small piece of parchment from her pocket and spread the wrinkled sheet on her knees. It had taken most of Charms for her and Luna to decipher Harry’s flower code while trying to look as if they were really doing their assignment. They had mastered their new freeze-drying spell, all the while keeping an eye on Luna’s charmed quill that was under the desk. She had spelled the quill to write down the phrases they had copied from the flower book as they dictated the order possibilities despite the fact that Professor Flitwick was hovering four desks away supervising Colin Creevey and his partner. What Ginny now held was the result of their labours: Flower list in the correct order: Coreopsis, Marigolds, Yarrow, Jonquils, Peonies, Forget-me-nots, Dandelions, Aster Ginny, Your constant cheerfulness comforts my heart, heals me as no other can. Until now, though, I have been too bashful to admit my affections for you: I love you truly. Your wishes have come true. Love, Harry She giggled at the old-fashioned wording of the message: Harry had never been one to act the romantic and tended to be very careful when displaying any emotion other than happiness or anger. Even his rare on-the-mouth kisses were somewhat restrained, sometimes leaving her desperately wanting more than he was willing to give. So what was she to make of the message? As un-Harry-like as it was, she supposed that he was sincere in his efforts to tell her how much she meant to him when it didn’t seem he could muster up the courage to tell her in person. With this thought in mind, Ginny hugged the parchment to her chest, a smile dancing at the corners of her lips as she planned the kiss she would give him tonight when they were finally alone in the common room. End of Part Nine |
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