Adventures of the Heart by Rogan

Summary: A book that contains the chapters that the Deathly Hallows could have had between the defeat of Voldemort and the chapter "19 Years Later". It focuses mainly on the developing relationship between Harry and Ginny, and shows how everybody finally manages to go back to leading a normal life.
Rating: PG-13
Categories: Post-DH/AB
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2007.11.07
Updated: 2008.07.02

Index

Chapter 1: Hot Chocolate
Chapter 2: Decisions
Chapter 3: Stealing the Show
Chapter 4: Snow
Chapter 5: Plans
Chapter 6: The Talk
Chapter 7: Jitters

Chapter 1: Hot Chocolate

Harry awoke in the same manner in which he had for the past two days, abruptly and with the lingering dread of a familiar nightmare coursing through his veins. He absently made to touch his scar, only to realize that there was no painful prickling sensation on his forehead, only a thin sheen of sweat. It had become a reflex, he realized again, to associate nightmares with Voldemort, and he still woke up expecting to feel something there after he had had a nightmare. This one had not even been about Voldemort. He had not dreamed of Tom Riddle since their last meeting in the Great Hall, and painful though that memory may be, he felt that their confrontation had gone in the only way it could, and should, have gone.

No, Bellatrix LeStrange haunted his dreams now, Bellatrix, who had sent the killing curse at Ginny and who had only so very barely missed. Bellatrix, who lay somewhere below in a secured room, next to what remained of her master. Dead as her master, at the hands of Molly Weasley. He hoped, and expected really, that Molly's soul had not been damaged by that act. She had been fighting to protect her children, after all. Slowly he mastered his breathing, slowing it down until it was normal again as he relived the nightmare, forcing himself to rationalize it.

In the dream, the battle had raged, and Luna, Hermione and Ginny had been fighting Bellatrix, as they had been in the actual battle mere days ago. He could only see, could not act in any way in the dream, as the curses flew between the combatants, time slowing as they reached that terrible moment where the dream deviated from reality. The killing curse flew from Bellatrix' wand straight at Ginny. The green light struck her square in the chest and she sagged, every so slowly, to the floor. At that moment, he could move. He ran, almost flew towards her, engulfing her in his arms, whispering her name, but she just hung limp and unresponsive. Panic engulfed him and he stood, twisting around to face Bellatrix, but the Great Hall was empty now.

Turning back to where Ginny's body lay, he found the space where she had been empty as well. Twisting once again to see who had taken her, he found himself staring at the back of a white robe, and without seeing her face he knew that Ginny was beneath it. Further away from him were more robed figures, all with their backs to him, and he knew with that strange certainty that could only come in dreams that these were all the other friends he had lost in the battle. Uncertainly, he put a hand on the shoulder in front of him and once again whispered her name.

"Ginny?"

The voice that responded was the same flat little voice that had wished him a happy birthday the previous year, after they had been interrupted by her brother in her room. "I died a little every day for you," it said. She twisted around suddenly, violently, and horror filled him as her dead brown eyes stared at him from a face twisted in hatred and grief, rage and terror. "You never even gave me a chance to say goodbye!" She shrieked now, her voice taking on that manic quality he had heard her use only once, when they had found her in the corridor with Dean. All his bravery gone, he cowered before her as she pointed her finger at him accusingly, and a wail of pain and loss burst from her that engulfed him, burned him, seared the flesh off his bones, and finally expelled him from sleep covered in sweat and shaking with the aftermath of the dream.

Cursing under his now normal breath, he tossed the covers of his four-poster bed aside and pulled back the curtains. Starlight was the only light in the room, the one he had taken to sleeping in alone in Gryffindor Tower. It had been Ron's idea to take the room, so he could have a bit of peace at night. Secretly he suspected that Ron was just a bit unnerved by his friend waking up shouting his sister's name in the middle of the night, but he was grateful for the privacy of his own room nonetheless. Now if he could only shake the nightmares as easily, life would be a lot simpler.

Harry shook his head to himself as he got out of bed. Life after Voldemort, he thought. Who would have thought that he would survive? Beyond his last confrontation with Voldemort he had always seen a great void in which he should never expect to have need of any plans, in which he would be a nice note in the history books perhaps. He had never expected to be a living, breathing, dark-haired, green-eyed boy with glasses, standing in his own room in Hogwarts trying to shake off nightmares he was never even supposed to have. He still expected life to just suddenly stop. Catching himself sighing ruefully, he picked up his glasses and watch up off the night stand and checked the time. No wonder all was still quiet on the grounds, at 3 o' clock in the morning. He groaned. If he was to have a life after Voldemort, then sleeping normal hours would make him much happier.

Suddenly Harry found himself wondering if Kreacher was awake and if he could bother him for a cup of hot chocolate at this hour. Before he could even finish the thought, there was a loud "CRACK" and the old house elf stood before him, a wide smile on his wrinkled face, his ears perked up in a display of what Ron would have called "Job satisfaction". "Master has need of Kreacher?" The house elf asked it looking thoroughly pleased at being able to serve at such an ungodly hour.

"Can you read minds now, too?" Harry chuckled, feeling fond of the house elf that had so radically changed for the better since he had given the creature his old master's locked.

"Kreacher can sense when his master has need of him," the house elf croaked, sweeping into a comical bow, and Harry made up his mind.

"Kreacher, since you're up anyway, I'd appreciate a cup of hot chocolate in the common room. But after that," he added, "please go and get some sleep. There's no need for you to stay up all night just in case I need something."

The house elf bowed again, saying "Master is too kind, and Kreacher will deliver his chocolate to the common room and then retire for the night," after which he Disapparated with another loud "CRACK".

Throwing on his dressing robe and stuffing his wand in his pocket, he opened the door as quietly as possible so as not to wake anyone in the other rooms and headed down the stairs. Harry stopped dead when he heard familiar voices talking in the common room.

"Come on now dear, you can tell me." Molly Weasley was the last person Harry expected to be up at this hour. She had opted to stay in Gryffindor Tower with her children while the preparations for the wake for all the fallen defenders were made, sharing a dorm with Hermione and Ginny.

"Yes," Ginny's voice sighed, and Harry felt his heart skip a beat. She went on after only a short pause. "I know I can tell you anything. I just want to keep some things to myself. I do have a right to a personal life, you know." There was silence for a while, and Harry sensed that Mrs. Weasley was taken aback by her daughter's retort. Wondering what Ginny might have on her mind that kept her up this late, he stood there, hoping that their conversation would continue sometime soon, and fully expected it to. Molly Weasley was not known for letting things rest when it came to comforting her children.

"You can't blame me for worrying, Ginny dear." The statement was delivered softly and gently. "You wake up screaming in the dead of night and then refuse to tell me what's bothering you." Another pause went by, but Ginny kept quiet. "We all dream about the battle, dear," Mrs. Weasley persisted, "and nightmares are nothing to be ashamed about." Ginny sniffled. Harry thought her mother might have hit a sore spot.

"This nightmare is." Ginny mumbled the words, almost too low for Harry to hear. "But it has nothing to do with the battle, and I really don't want to talk about it. You wouldn't understand anyway."

Harry decided that he could not continue spying on them for much longer, lest Kreacher suddenly appear and betray his presence, so he headed back up to his room and opened and closed the door loudly enough to be heard in the common room. He then made an effort to make some noise on his way down.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me, I'll go back to bed then. If you decide you want to talk about it after all, you know where to find..." Mrs. Weasley's voice trailed off as Harry opened the door that lead from the boys' dormitories to the common room, and he paused when he saw the startled looks they gave him. Cursing silently that he had not made enough noise, he gave them what he sincerely hoped was a weary smile.

"Couldn't sleep," he mumbled, but he could not help noticing that Ginny had turned a bit pale. He had not seen her since the aftermath of the battle, and thought she might have been avoiding him.

Molly recovered first.

"Oh, hello Harry dear." Her voice was bright and cheerful, but he sensed that she was forcing it to be that way. "I was just heading back up to bed myself. Oh, no no," she added in a sweet voice that strangely reminded Harry of Dolores Umbridge, as Ginny abruptly rose to join her, "why don't you keep Harry company for a bit, dear? There will be enough time to sleep later."

With that, she closed the door to the girls' dormitory behind her, leaving Harry and Ginny to stare at each other in the common room.

Harry was the first to speak, though it took him a while.

"If I'd known that you were here, I'd have asked Kreacher for an extra cup of hot chocolate."

Ginny frowned.

"Since when does Kreacher bring you hot chocolate in the middle of the night?" Her voice was skeptical, but she spoke so softly that she almost mumbled.

Harry smiled, suddenly feeling nervous.

"Kreacher and I have come to an understanding of sorts," he said. As an afterthought, he added: "I'd been meaning to tell you that, and loads of other things that have happened since the last time we had a chance to talk."

Ginny gave him a half-hearted smile.

"You haven't gotten around to telling me much of anything since, well, you know, the whole Voldemort thing," she said.

Feeling himself hesitate, he decided to just take the plunge and live with the consequences.

"Actually," he said, looking her straight in the eyes, "I've been looking for you for two days. Somehow you've been hard to find." There, that had come out a lot less bitter than he had expected it to come out.

She did not speak immediately, but sat down on the rug by the fire and began poking at it with one of the ornatedly decorated iron pokers that hung from the mantle. So, he mused, there really was something on her mind, and it involved him somehow. They may have gone out only for a short while, but he was confident that he knew her well enough to know that. They had been friends before they had started going out, after all. Patiently, he waited for her to talk.

"I've been... busy." She said it hesitatingly. "I've been busier than I really was, actually. More like keeping myself occupied and... away from you. Harry," and with this she finally looked up at him, her face betraying more uncertainty than her voice had, "would you forgive me if I said I've been avoiding you?"

Keeping her gaze, Harry sat down next to her. The fire was nice and warm, even though the evening was not chilly, and he liked what the light of the flames did to her hair.

"Sure," he heard himself say, "If you tell me why."

Her eyes lingered on his for a while, and finally she nodded, then looked into the flames again.

"I was afraid I'd say something stupid and hurt you." She held up her hand when he tried to say something, and he bit back the words. "Right after the battle, all I wanted to do was hug you, be close to you. I understood that everyone needed you, though, and so I stayed mostly with my family. That night I had a nightmare."

He stayed quiet now, remembering that he had not sought her out that evening, and wondering where this could be leading. She continued slowly.

"At first I thought it was just a bad dream, but I couldn't sleep after that, and it got me thinking. By that morning, I was really angry with you."

Harry frowned, but she was still looking into the fire and gave no sign that she noticed his surprise.

"Hermione put up a fight, but I finally got her to tell me what happened to make Voldemort think you were dead."

There was a silence, and she sighed as if steeling herself. Then she looked at him abruptly enough to make his heart skip a beat.

"You went to him, unarmed, intending to die," she said, "and you... died."

He could not think of anything to say, and she let the word linger for a while before continuing. "In the grounds, before you went into the forest, you stood and watched me for a while."

At this, Harry's eyes widened. He had been invisible at the time. How could she know about that? He had not told even Ron and Hermione. She did not pause.

"I only realized it later, after I'd had the dream. I felt... robbed of something. What if you really had died?"

She still looked at him with those big brown eyes, but if she was still angry with him now, there was no hint of it in them. There was something else, though, something he could not put his finger on.

"It would have been our only chance to say goodbye. I just..."

Pain, he suddenly realized, as her expression deepened, and her eyes flashed with it. Her whole expression was pained, and he wanted desperately to hold her, comfort her, but understood that she had to finish what she wanted to say.

"There were so many things I would have wanted to tell you, then and there, so many... Harry, while you were gone, I was so scared for you, I died inside a little bit every day. And then you went and..."

Eerily, Harry was reminded of his own nightmares.

"...and never even gave you the chance to say goodbye." He completed her sentence without thinking. She nodded.

Harry sighed. His insides were roiling, waves of emotion taking hold of him. How badly had he hurt her by not talking to her? But could he have talked to her before going off to die? Would she have let him? Did he really need to justify all this to her? With a pang, he realized that if anyone deserved justification, it was Ginny. Ron and Hermione had received an in-depth explanation from him, but Ginny had been kept in the dark for close to a year, and had had to fight the bits she knew out of Hermione.

"I saw you comforting that girl in the grounds while I was headed for the forest." He only looked back at her, pulling his eyes away from the fire, when he realized it was he who had spoken. She deserved an explanation, and he would give it to her. He would tell her anything and everything she wanted to know. Expectantly, but patiently, she settled down a bit to listen.

"Not taking off my cloak then and there was just about the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life, but I did it for a reason."

He searched for the words, but did not take his eyes from her. Willing her to see the truth in them, he forced himself onward.

"I knew I'd have lost my nerve if I'd talked to you."

She drew up an eyebrow and made to speak, but this time it was he who held up a hand, and she kept quiet.

"These last few years you've anchored me to life in a way that no mission to destroy a Dark wizard ever could have. You made me feel as if I might have a real life some day, that there could be a time after Tom Riddle. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to go through with what I was supposed to do. You mean life to me, Ginny. How could I have faced you and then gone off to die?"

Harry felt as if he had just dropped his naked soul on the rug between them as he gazed into Ginny's unreadable face. Forcing himself to stay quiet now, lest he start babbling, he just watched her. Then it hit him. He was not the only one who had tossed out confessions of deep feelings just now. Slowly he moved closer to her, and when she did not pull back, he reached out a hand to brush a stray strand of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear.

"I'm sorry, Ginny." He said it softly, and was surprised at the depth of feeling he heard in his own voice. "If there had been any other way to face him, I would have. This was the only way to save the people in the castle that could still be saved. This was the only way to finally defeat him."

Ginny's face softened for a moment, but then anger flashed on her face.

"I know," she said, punching his chest hard enough to topple him backward, "you prat."

She scooted closer to him, and before he knew it, she was pummeling him with her fists, emphasizing her words as Hermione had done when Ron had returned to the tent after having been missing for weeks.

"Why. Couldn't. It. Have. Been. Someone. Else!"

His ribs hurt, but the only effort he made to stop her was to put his arms around her and pull her close.

She stiffened, her fists still between them, and fought to break free. She kept yelling at him, telling him that the world did not revolve around him, but he held on to her. As she spent her anger on him, he finally felt her give way and clutched her even more tightly to his chest, until finally he felt her shake and sob. Tears streamed from her eyes, and she cried as he had never heard anyone cry before, wracking sobs and wails that wrenched at him, both accusing him and strangely absolving him, her hands clutched tightly on the front of his dressing robe, her face pressed tightly to his chest. A stray part of his brain recognized that although he always felt very uncomfortable around crying girls, he felt strangely good comforting Ginny, and wondered at what that meant to him. The better part of his mind, however, was absorbed in the feel of her against him, and he was surprised to feel a warm tear trickle from his own eye down his cheek.

As he held her lying on the rug by the fire, and let her spend her tears, she slowly relaxed into him. Her face was still buried against his chest, but he stroked her hair softly and marveled at the softness of it as he had when they had just gotten together near the end of his sixth year at Hogwarts. He let his mind drift to those stolen moments together when they had sat together in the sun under a tree by the lake, and he had stroked her hair like this as they just sat there, companionably, her back to his chest, staring out over the water and talking. He missed those times desparately. Would they ever have such times again? Would she still want him, after he had hurt her like this? He recognized it now, even though he had not immediately understood it when she had told him all the things she had told him. He had hurt her by going off to die without saying a word to her. She might understand, but that did not mean she was not hurt by it.

After what seemed like an hour, she finally pushed herself off him. It was not an aggressive move, but he felt the loss of contact between their bodies as keenly as if she had jumped. Sitting up slowly, she wiped her eyes and sniffled. There was the faintest "pop", and suddenly Kreacher was there, holding two steaming mugs of hot chocolate. Without uttering a word, he presented each of them with a mug, and at Harry's grateful nod, he Disapparated with another soft popping sound.

Harry made a mental note to thank the house elf profusely in the morning for his impeccable timing and descretion. Moving over a bit, he sat with his back against the couch, leaning into it for support, facing the fire. He felt emotionally drained, more than he had felt in a long time, but somehow clearer and less burdened too. Ginny moved over also, and his heart leapt when she sat next to him, both hands clutching her mug, their legs, hips and shoulders touching.

"I've missed you, Gin." Again he heard himself speak before he realized he did, but immediately decided that if he was going to tell her that, he would tell her everything. "I've missed you a lot. There were nights when I had to keep watch outside our tent, and I'd take out the Marauders' Map just to watch you sleep in your dorm."

She put her head on his shoulder, but did not speak. She did not need to.

After the storm of emotions of the past while, they had rediscovered the companionship they had shared. When she finally did speak, he did not misunderstand her words, and he did not feel bad about them. He had been expecting them, and replied in kind. They hugged and went to their respective beds an hour later, thinking that perhaps now they might both sleep through an entire night.

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Chapter 2: Decisions

Ginny.

It took Harry a while to wake up, having spent the night and most of the morning in the comfortable bed in Sirius' old room at no. 12 Grimauld Place, but she was already on his mind again. Ginny had been a constant source of comfort for him, and he for her, during the past week and a half. The cup of chocolate in the common room of Gryffindor Tower had been the first of several such evenings, and each time they had talked.

They had hugged, of course, as friends did, and sat in companionable silence as they sipped their chocolate. The grief and stress were still too much for them, and the friendship they offered each other was the best comfort they had. Though he had not asked her, Harry suspected that Ginny enjoyed their private time together as much as he did. Their decision to just be friends for a while at the end of that first nightly encounter had, he reflected, been a good one. They had needed comfort from each other much more than they had needed anything else, and he knew that what more was between them needed to grow again before he could act on it. In truth, they had been drawing closer to each other again every since that first evening, and he hoped the time would soon be right to act on his feelings for Ginny again.

Five days after the battle of Hogwarts, the fallen defenders had been buried in a ceremony that was as grand as anything the broken Wizarding community could have mustered. Though the bodies of the fallen were each interred in the place of their families' choosing, the joined ceremony to honor them was impressive to say the least. Kingsley had asked him to say a few words on behalf of the fallen, of course. He had expected that duty, and had spent days nervously writing the first real speech of his life.

Ginny had held his hand right up until he had to step up onto the stage, and he had marveled once again at how much comfort that simple contact with her had brought. She had allowed herself to cry during his speech, and her tears had broken the blockade he had put on his own. Though his voice broke and he had to steady himself a few times, he had not faltered in speaking the words he had so carefully written from the heart. Afterwards, they had held eachother and cried freely as other speakers took the stand. Fred was laid to rest on the graveyard of Ottery St. Catchpole in a more private ceremony where only the family had been welcome to attend. Harry and Hermione were honored to have been included in that company.

The week after Fred's burial was, he now reflected, the first step on the road to healing for many Wizarding families, and the Weasleys were no exception. Though they grieved for the loss of Fred, the weight of the war had been lifted from their shoulders, and it soon became apparent to Harry that they would survive this ordeal as a stronger family than they had already been. Though Ginny still gravitated towards him for comfort, and he mostly to her, her natural strength quickly reasserted itself.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were taking the loss of their son hardest of all, and all their children worked to help them deal with their loss. Though he and Hermione often joined them and did their part, they both understood that the Weasleys needed to deal with this in their own unique way, and that as close as they might be to the redheaded family, their places were on the sideline. Thus it was that Harry found himself listening to Hermione as she talked about how much things had changed since the battle of Hogwarts.

"I really still can't believe that the war is finally over," she had said, as the two of them sat against the tree in the back garden of the Burrow. Ron and Ginny were helping Molly in the kitchen, while Bill, George, Percy and Charly helped Arthur with the broken motorbike he had stored in the chicken pen. "We spent so much time fearing so many things at the same time for so long, that it's positively disorienting to suddenly be out of danger again. The only thing that we really have on our minds now is healing. Well, and I guess I have Ron on my mind too." She sighed, and he smiled at her in heartfelt sympathy as he waited for her to continue. "Things have changed between us since, well, you know."

Harry remembered the kiss Ron and Hermione had shared during the battle, and nodded. Hermione looked almost scared as she met his eyes again. "Are you really okay with us being together, Harry?" Harry felt his eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise, and then laughed out loud at the expression on Hermione's face. He scooted his chair closer to hers and put an arm around her shoulder, squeezing her to him in a tight hug.

"Of course I'm okay with you two being together. I'm more than okay with it, I think it's absolutely brilliant. The only reason I yelled at you about it during the battle, was the whole explosions and death eaters running around thing." When Hermione stayed quiet for a while, he softly added "You two are made for each other. Don't think that this makes us any less good friends, or that I feel left out or anything. Be happy, okay? You deserve it."

Hermione sniffed against his shoulder, and he realized just how insecure she had been about this. After a while, she pulled back, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek as she went. "Thank you for that, Harry." She said it, meeting his eyes, and he saw that her smile now included her eyes as well. "Now, tell me about you and Ginny."

The sheer bluntness of her words had him talking before he realized what she had asked. "I guess we've been a great comfort to each other. We're friends, for the time being." Hermione gave him one of her knowing smiles, and he sat back in his chair with a sigh. "Well, you know how I feel about her. I've not been able to hide anything from you in years, even with Occlumency. It's just bad timing right now, isn't it? I mean, she's just lost her brother. She needs a bit of time with her family."

She patted his hand, and nodded. "You're right, of course. But promise me you'll seek a bit of happiness for yourself. We're not the only ones who deserve it, you know." They both smiled, and he nodded.

That conversation was almost two weeks ago. He had moved out of the Burrow and into Grimauld Place a week ago, saying that he needed a bit of time to himself, and with Hermione's help had renewed the Fidelius charm on the place. Reporters had been harrowing him like flies wherever he went, and it was bliss to just sit in the comfort of his own house with only Kreacher for company. All the Weasleys had been given the address right away, of course, as well as Andromeda Tonks, who had come by with Teddy twice already.

They had decided that Andromeda would raise the boy, and that Harry would help her however he could. Once Teddy got old enough, Harry could come and take him out to trips, have him stay over, and generally do the things men do together. As godfather, he wanted to do right by the boy, even if he would not be the one to raise him directly. He had offered to be the boy's full-time parent, but Andromeda had only smiled sadly and told him in no uncertain terms that he deserved to have a life of his own for a while first. She had also reassured him that she had a great deal of experience with parenting a young metamorph, and that she would prefer to keep Teddy close now that she had lost her husband and only daughter to the war against Voldemort.

After they had Flooed home, Harry had resolved to spend as much time as he could with them. Now, as he got up from the bed and reached for his glasses, he suddenly found himself wondering what kind of impact the fulltime care of a baby boy would have on his life. From there, his thoughts spiraled on. He had a life now, a life after Voldemort. There was still pain in this life, the grief of having lost friends and the vague frustration he kept feeling whenever he thought of Ginny, but there truly was a life for him out there. He could be his own man now, unbound by any prophecies, and in charge of his own decisions. Was there room in this life for a child already? No, he mused, there was not. Andromeda had been wiser than he had been, though his offer had been sincere. He had accepted the role of godfather for Teddy, and he intended to do all in his power to help the boy grow into a man Remus and Tonks would be proud of. Still, he now realized that he would first need to gain a firm grasp on his own life before he could think about raising children. What was it he truly wanted in life?

Harry shuffled sleepily into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Warm water, precisely the correct temperature, poured forth, and he sighed in contentment as it hit him. It had taken him weeks to get used to the fact that he was still alive, but he now finally realized that every minute he now lived was a minute extra, a minute to be enjoyed to the fullest. He had always enjoyed being alive, but he now realized that he could truly love his life, and make his life what he wanted it to be. So, as he started scrubbing himself more vigorously than he needed to, wincing every now and then when he hit a spot that was not yet fully healed, he mused.

His greatest desire in life, mundane though it may be, was to live a full and happy life. He wanted to enjoy a career in the magical world, find a job he could be proud of, marry a witch he loved, have children he could raise and cherish, and create many happy memories for himself. Did he still want to be an Auror? It was a harder question to answer than he would have expected. Did he have to work at all? Yes, he thought, he would have to work. Even if he did not have to do it for the money, which he had plenty of, he would have to do it because it would give structure to his life. What job options did he have?

He considered a few, forcing himself to think beyond what he had always told himself, that he could not imagine any other career than that of an Auror. He could, in fact, do quite a lot of things. He could become a curse breaker, like Bill, or he could try for a career in professional Quiddich. He might even decide to take up teaching, though he doubted that professor McGonagall would take him on without a few more years under his belt. He discounted a desk job at the ministry, though. There had to be a challenge to the job, and he instictinvely knew that paperwork was not for him. He could become an Unspeakable though.

There were suddenly opportunities everywhere. He could try out for any Quiddich team today if he wanted - or at least make an appointment today - but he suddenly realized one more thing that would make him happy. He wanted to graduate from Hogwarts. For six years he had been happy at school, and he had somehow always imagined taking his N.E.W.T.'s at some point or the other. Hermione would want to finish school, and Ron would join her just because it would mean spending another year of relatively carefree time with her. Would the students who had been at Hogwarts this year be going on to their next years? How great would it be if Ron, Hermione, Ginny and he would graduate together?

Ginny, there she was again. Washing his hair, he allowed himself to consider her fully. There would be hours, maybe even years, in which they could talk, he had thought right after the battle. What if all they would ever do together would be that, talk? That thought made his stomach clench. Ginny had been his distraction all throughout his journeys to stop Voldemort this past year. He would take out the Marauder's Map and watch her move around the castle, or sleep in her dorm, and he had hoped that against all odds he might see her again.

When he had finally seen her again, he had been busy tracking down the diadem horcrux, and he remembered clearly how agonizingly worried he had been. He had wanted her to stay safe, but she had been determined to fight. Yet they had both lived, and now lived in a truce that he found more and more uneasy. What if they ended up like the Ron and Hermione, and took years to get back together?

What if she did not even want to get back together?

What if she was over him?

He realized that he still had his hands in his hair and that shampoo was beginning to cover his face, and stuck his head under the shower. He had to do something about Ginny. For better or for worse, he had to know if they had a chance. Turning off the shower, he walked purposefully towards the towel rack. Voldemort was in the past, and he had set himself a new task. He would seize control of his future.

After a few minutes of getting clothes together, dumping the towel in the laundry basket and brushing his teeth, Harry sat down at his writing desk, still pulling a comfortable sweater over his damp hair, and grabbed a roll of parchment and a quill. Not allowing himself a moment's hesitation, he put the quill to the paper and began to write.

"Dear Ginny,"

An hour later, he was still staring at the non-existent next line of his letter to Ginny. He had planned to write her a letter in which he explained how he felt and asked her if there was a chance they might get back together, but all he could think to write down was "Dear Ginny,".

Frowning at himself, he realized that he could not write her a letter and hope that would fix everything between them. It was too easy, too careless, and too stupid. He wanted Ginny to feel special around him, and asking her about this stuff in a letter was too impersonal and... well... not very romantic. Today, he thought, was a day full of realizations. He wanted her to feel special. He wanted to charm her. Maybe it was time for him to open up that book of Ron's. Pushing his chair back, he got up and turned towards the door.

Just then, there was a hoot, and a handsome tawny owl came soaring in through the open window. It landed neatly on his desk, away from any ink bottles it might turn over, and unceremoniously held out its leg. Harry frowned, not expecting any letters from people he did not know, and this was not an owl he remembered seeing before. He untied the scroll of parchment and summoned an owl treat from downstairs. The owl did not take off immediately, probably expecting a reply to carry back to it's master, so Harry quickly turned to examining the parchment. The seal on it indicated that it was from the Minister for Magic, so he broke it and opened the letter. It was in Kingsley's neat, bold hand.

"Dear Mr. Potter,

This letter is charmed so that none except you may read it. Though the contents of it are not truly shocking, I respect your privacy and do not wish to cause you worry.

We here at the ministry, as well as I personally, hope that you are well and recovering from your recent confrontation with the dark wizard Voldemort at Hogwarts school. It is the opinion of many people that, now that the war is over, a celebration is in order. To that end, the Ministry is organizing a ball, and though the official invitation will be arriving shortly by owl, I am writing to you personally to impress upon you how grateful we would be if you would attend.

Let us be frank. I am aware of how uncomfortable you are when placed in the center of attention. This, however, is an opportunity for you to make a public appearance, so that reporters can have their chance to take your picture or get a quote. Though we all know that they will be following you for years to come, this might at least diminish their lust for information for a while.

I have instructed my owl to wait for your reply, so that you may send one if you wish. Once again, hoping you are well.

Yours sincerely,


Kingsley Shacklebolt
Minister for Magic"

Just when Harry finished reading the letter, a second owl fluttered in, bearing a slightly larger and elaborately embossed enveloppe with a prominent Ministry seal. This, he thought, must be the invitation. Had this come at any other time, he mused, he might have considered not going. Now, he took the invitation from the owl and opened it. The letter, it's lettering in gold on a thick piece of parchment embossed with the Ministry logo, was indeed an invitation to a ball, which was to be held in his honor, one week from now.

Scanning the invitation, he found what he was looking for. It was an invitation for "Mr. Harry Potter and guest", which indicated that he could (or perhaps even should) bring a date. Feeling the corners of his lips twitch of their own accord, he put the enveloppe down and picked up his quill once again. Resolutely, he set it to paper.

"Dear Kingsley,

I accept your invitation, and hope to see you there in good health.

Kind regards,


Harry Potter"

He tied the letter to the first owl's leg, summoned another owl treat for the second owl, and went to the dressing room to put on more decent clothes. Fifteen minutes later, he appeared with a loud pop near the big tree in the Burrow's garden, and was rewarded with the sight of Ron and Hermione jumping apart and whipping out their wands. Ron scowled when he recognized his friend and Hermione let out a sigh of relief.

"It's only me," he said, rather stupidly, since they had already shown that they had recognized him. Then he saw how much grass was in Hermione's hair, and understanding dawned. "Sorry to interrupt," he said, unable to keep the smile off his face. "I'm just popping in to talk to Ginny." He started towards the house, intending to give his friends the privacy they were obviously seeking here, but Hermione stopped him.

"Harry, have you heard about the ball?" She asked it quickly, and Harry nodded.

"Yup," he said, "I've just accepted the invitation. Why?"

She beamed at him. "Oh, I was worrying you might not want to go. But it's great that you're coming, especially since it's in your honor that they're having it in the first place." Harry smiled back, and she continued. "We, that is, Ron and I, each got a personal letter from Kingsley with our invitation. Did you get one, too?" Harry nodded again, knowing that he would not need to elaborate on the contents.

"It's good that he took the time to write to you too," he said, "It means they recognize the work you did, and how important you were for the outcome of the war." Ron walked up behind Hermione and slipped his arms around her waist, meeting Harry's eye. With a wink, Harry said "We can talk more later if you want, I really need to have a word with Ginny." As he resolutely turned around and headed to the house, he thought he saw gratitude in Ron's eyes. The two had probably not had any chance of privacy, with the number of people the Burrow always seemed to contain. He resisted the urge to look back and see if they'd already tumbled back into the grass together and smiled, feeling happy for his friends.

The back door was open, so he called out to make sure nobody else would draw a wand on him in surprise. Ginny stuck her head out from around a corner, and came to give him a hug when he walked in. "Hi," she said, as he grinned at her. She smiled at him. "Missed us already, did you?"

He forced the grin down a bit, and said "Well, I'm actually here to see you. Can I..." He got no further than that, because Arthur and Molly Weasley chose that moment to enter from the living room. Belatedly, he realized that he still had his arms around Ginny's waist, and pulled them back slowly as he smiled at them. "Hi Mr. Weasley, Mrs. Weasley," he said, hoping his voice would not betray the disappointment he felt at not being able to ask Ginny to the ball then and there. It must not have, since Molly gripped him in as motherly a hug as she always did, and Arthur shook his hand with no less warmth.

"Hello Harry dear," Molly said as she pulled back. "Everything settled at Grimauld Place? Are you staying for dinner?" He could not help but smile.

"Actually..." he began, but Arthur cut him off, saying "Of course he'll stay for dinner, Molly dear, why else would he be here at this time of day?"

He tried again. "Well, I..." But Molly had already exclaimed in delight and began checking all the pans she had already put on.

"Oh good," she said, waving her wand in the direction of the stove, and an extra pan floated onto it, catching a few things that flew from the cupboards to fill it.

"Mrs. Weasley, please..." He mumbled, knowing it would not help anyway. Sighing, he decided to just stay for dinner. He would have to let Kreacher know though, the house elf would be disappointed if he did not show up for dinner tonight without letting him know. "Ok, I'll stay." He said it in what he hoped was a grateful tone, and found Ginny grinning at him when he turned back to her. "Ginny, could I have a..."

There was an explosion somewhere behind the house, and he paused just long enough to catch the stricken looks on the faces of the Weasleys around him before he pulled out his wand and ran out the back door, inwardly cursing at how hard it was to find an opportunity to just ask one simple question. He arrived at the scene of the explosion, an open stretch of grass next to the shed that housed Sirius' old motorbike, at the same time that Ron and Hermione did.

They both had their wands out, and the three fell into a defensive formation seemingly without noticing as they approached the crater and the thick clouds of smoke that hung low over the grass. Out of the cloud, a single figure stumbled towards them, and they all stood staring transfixedly at the lanky, soot-covered figure before Ron yelled "George!" and charged forward to catch his brother. The man was shaking, tears streaming down his face, and he was so thickly covered in soot that his red hair was almost completely black. As they all drew closer to comfort him, however, Harry was surprised to notice that George was laughing, not crying.

The billowing clouds began to envelop them, as well as the other Weasleys, and Harry felt Ginny's hand slipping into his from where she arrived panting beside him. Suddenly he felt giddy, and he started chuckling despite the strangeness of the situation. In front of him, both Ron and Hermione burst into laughter, as did Ginny, and the rest of the family, and they were soon rolling around laughing uncontrollably. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry could not understand what was so funny that he would laugh this hard about it, but his mind was strangely clouded and somehow all he could feel were the strange feeling of elation and the feel of Ginny's hand still clutched in his as they rolled around laughing together.

Through the din of laughing Weasleys, he vaguely heard George's voice call out "Tergeo!", and slowly the smoke started to thin, finally giving way to the fresh air that streamed in to fill the space George was creating by siphoning off the smoke. As the smoke lifted, so did the feeling of elation, and Harry finally felt his laughter coming back under his control until it died down.

He wiped the tears from his eyes with his free hand, stil feeling Ginny's hand in his other, and they helped each other get up onto their still wobbly legs. His ribs and abdominal muscles hurt, but he felt strangely light, and he saw happy smiles all around him. Mr. Weasley had an arm around his wife's shoulders, and she was still chuckling as she clung to him. Ron was patting George on the shoulder as they grinned at eachother, and Hermione was looking at something between Ginny and Harry with one of her knowing smiles.

Harry glanced at where she was looking, and saw Ginny's hand still clasped in his. He looked back at her and raised an eyebrow in defiance, but she only winked at him and turned to George, who was explaining what had just happened. "...and we'd always thought about making explosions of happiness wherever our products were being used," he was saying, "and I just figured that would be a good idea for a new product. So I was just testing the first Burst of Laughter. That's only a working title, of course..."

Harry smiled in genuine fondness of the remaining part of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes duo, and then chanced a glance at Ginny. She was gazing up at him, and his heart leapt when their eyes locked. She was beautiful, her face flushed, clutching her ribs from the abuse they had taken while she was laughing, but looking happier than he had seen her since the battle. With everybody else distracted, he decided that now was the time, and he pulled her aside a bit. "Ginny, I was hoping to have a word with you."

She grinned. "Yeah," she replied, "kind of hard to get a private word in with everyone at the Burrow. What's up?"

He pulled the invitation he had received out of his pocket. "Have you, um, heard of the ball next week?" She nodded, but did not say anything. "Would you, um, like to go with me? To the ball, I mean?" Her eyes widened a fraction, and Harry noticed that aside from the sound of a bird somewhere, there was no sound around them. Apparently, everyone had been paying attention.

Apparently, everyone was still paying attention.

He suddenly felt stupid. Why did he have to confront her with this in front of half of her family? Ginny glanced at the knot of Weasleys gathered just within hearing distance, then back up at him. "You mean... as your date?" She asked it softly, but he knew everyone was hanging on their every word.

"Yeah," he replied just as softly, "as my date." He saw the corner of her mouth twitch.

She blushed furiously. "Sure," she said, and kissed him on the cheek. Harry's heart soared.

There was a collective "ahhh" from the gathered crowd, and when he glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, he was surprised to see a bit of surprise mingled in their smiles. Had anyone told them about what had happened between Ginny and him in her fifth year?

Dinner, after they'd all cleaned the soot off themselves and after Hermione helped George repair the damage to the lawn, was finally the fun, loud affair again that it had always been at the Burrow. Harry and Ginny kept stealing glances at each other, and he could not help from smiling all evening.

After dinner, Mr. Weasley motioned for him to come for a walk outside, and Harry followed him out the back door of the Burrow while George was expressively telling the rest of the family about the new line of products he had been thinking of. Outside, he walked beside the older man for a while, neither of them speaking, until they came to the tree where Harry had appeared earlier that day.

"So," Mr. Weasley spoke then, letting the single syllable hang in the air a while. Harry felt an urge to explain, and took the obvious invitation to speak.

"Mr. Weasley, I understand that you may be confused that I'm suddenly asking your daughter out to a ball." Arthur Weasley smiled at him as they continued walking slowly towards the pond.

"I must admit," he said in his usual pleasant tone, "that you surprised me rather thoroughly. I had noticed that you seemed to draw close to Ginny, but I had assumed that with Ron and Hermione off on their own brush with romance, you two were just, ah... giving them some time together." Harry chuckled at that. "It would appear, however, that you have developed some more, ah... I believe the word would be 'fond'... feelings for my daughter in the recent past. Does that sum up your motives to ask her out?"

Harry frowned. "No, it doesn't." He spoke more frankly than he had intended, and Mr. Weasley's eyebrows shot up. Harry hurried to catch himself. "I mean, well, yes, I do like Ginny, I like her a lot even. But that's not something new." He struggled to form the words that he needed to say, and finally decided on the simple truth minus the details he would not want to divulge without consulting Ginny first. "I've liked her for years, actually. Ever since my sixth year, maybe even earlier than that, I can't really be sure. It's just that, with Voldemort and all..." He let it trail off there, but saw understanding in Mr. Weasley's eyes.

"It is good to hear you say these things, Harry." The older man spoke softly, and Harry noted the tone of relief in his voice. "I came out here to make sure that you were not just infatuated with her because of all the things you have been through these past weeks. She is my only daughter, you see, and I think she has always been taken with you. I would not want to see her being taken advantage of."

Harry's eyebrows shot up at that. "I would never take advantage of Ginny, Mr. Weasley."

Arthur Weasley put a hand on his shoulder. "I know, my boy, I know." He said it slowly, and Harry waited for the rest. "To be frank, I had always hoped this would happen one day. So, Molly and I, we hope this all goes well for the two of you." They finished their walk in silence, leaving Harry to ponder the meaning of Mr. Weasley's words until they got back to the house. After a nice evening of friendly banter with the Weasley's, he Apparated home feeling more content than he had in a long, long time.

Back to index

---

Chapter 3: Stealing the Show

Kreacher was the greatest, Harry reflected. If anyone had told him a year ago that the house elf would be cooking and cleaning for him, as well as laundering and laying out his clothes and even cutting his hair, and that he would actually enjoy the elf's company, he would have hexed them. Or at least he would have laughted. Now, however, he was extremely grateful for the house elf's company, even though Kreacher still stoically refused to accept payment for his services. His black dress robes, about as formal as they could get, had been retailored to fit his rather changed body and practically radiated with how clean they were.

His tie was perfectly done, every inch of his clothing, down to the soles of his shoes, radiated style and (to his surprise) comfort. Kreacher's fussing over him was endearing, and he laughed out loud when the elf slipped some tissues into both the side pockets of his robes to counter sweaty palms.

Picking up his invitation, Harry winked to Kreacher. "Wish me luck," he said, his voice slightly shaking. Having faced down the most powerful Dark wizard ever, he suddenly dreaded picking up Ginny for their first real date ever. At school, they had shared stolen moments and kisses in empty corridors, but they had never had a chance to go to Hogsmeade together on an actual date. This scared him more than he had expected it to.

Kreacher deigned to chuckle, which got Harry laughing as well. The house elf was taking liberties like this more often now, and Harry was glad for it. "Kreacher wishes Master a pleasant evening with the young miss Weasley", the elf croaked, "and hopes to see him still smiling when he returns home." With that, he held open the front door, and Harry stepped out of no. 12 Grimauld Place to board the car that awaited him. It was a black limousine from a Wizarding transport service, and he could not help but wonder what it would look like on the inside. He was not disappointed.

Not much later, the limousine pulled up at the Burrow, joining the queue of Ministry cars already waiting there. Harry smiled. He had arranged a separate car for just the two of them, and it would seem that Mr. Weasley had had the same idea. Stepping out of the car, he took a steadying breath, then walked resolutely up the path leading to the front door of the Burrow. It was quite a beautiful evening, starry and cloudless, and just the right temperature. At the front door, he knocked politely, and Mrs. Weasley opened the door.

She was clad in a beautiful navy blue dress, one that matched the hat the twins had given her for Christmas some years back, and her hair was done up rather elaborately. She gave him a radiant smile, and Harry was stunned at the transformation the normally poorly dressed and motherly looking witch had undergone.

"Well, hello Harry dear," she exclaimed, "if your reaction to my daughter tonight is half as good as this one, I'm sure she'll be delighted."

Harry gave a guilty start and realized he was gaping. "Hi!" He heard the squeaky quality in his own voice and made an effort to talk normally. How did he manage to get so worked up over this date? One of the many great things about her was that he was always comfortable around her. He decided to focus on Mrs. Weasley for now and hoped she would help him calm down. "I'm sorry to gape, Mrs. Weasley," he said, "but you have to admit that you look absolutely stunning."

That elicited an even wider smile from Molly Weasley, and Harry thought he saw a faint blush rise to her cheeks. With a rather motherly pinch to his cheek and some mutterings that Harry thought sounded something like "sweet flattering boy", she let him in.

The Burrow was a flurry of activity, as usual. At the kitchen table, both sipping a mug of coffee and looking amused, sat Bill and George. "Oi, Harry!" George's shout was so full of his old mischievous tone that Harry's heart lightened a bit. He felt himself grin at the two scarred men, Bill with his torn up face and George missing an ear and a twin brother, and they just sat smiling back at him for a minute.

"So," Bill finally said, "you and my little sister, eh? I must admit to being more surprised about that than I was about Ron and Hermione."

His words were impeccably timed, as they were followed by a loud crash and Hermione's voice shrieking "Oh RONALD! Just go downstairs or something! You're driving me crazy!" Ron came scurrying downstairs seconds later, muttering something that sounded like "bloody mental woman" under his breath, but looking rather smart in his dark green dress robes.

"Looking good, little brother," exclaimed George, and Ron's scowl dissipated.

"Hey mate," he said, clapping Harry on the back.

George turned to Bill. "Can't say I'm much surprised, really," he said, "they did go out for a while at the end of Ginny's fifth year at Hogwarts you know." Bill's mouth fell open, and Mrs. Weasley dropped a sauce pan. There was what Harry believed to be the first silent moment ever in the Burrow, and it stretched for a few seconds, until George made a sound like "Oh".

"I'd almost say that this is the first time you two heard about this," he muttered. Mr. Weasley came strolling into the kitchen.

"You two heard about what? Hi Harry." Harry shook the man's offered hand shakily, and glanced at George, who looked rather subdued. Well, they were bound to hear about this sooner or later.

"Ginny and I went out for a few weeks at the end of my sixth year." Mr. Weasley's eyebrows shot up, and he noticed that Bill and Mrs. Weasley were still looking at him. "I broke it off after Dumbledore's funeral. It wasn't that I didn't want to be with her, quite the opposite really, but I wanted her to be safe. Being my girlfriend would have made her an obvious target." Everyone remained quiet. "I guess neither of us mentioned it last summer because we'd already broken it off, and it wasn't really important with the wedding preparations and everything."

Arthur cleared his throat. "Well, that does explain why my daughter was so distraught when she got home after her fifth year."

Harry sighed. "If any of you want to punch me for breaking Ginny's heart, I guess I deserve it. Just, um, not in the face, please. I'd prefer not to have a black eye when I dance with her tonight."

Bill burst out laughing, and soon the kitchen was filled with merriment as if nothing had happened. Ron was boasting about having given his express permission to them and playing the chaperone, when a door upstairs opened. The talk in the kitchen quieted down immediately. Harry's breath caught when he saw her. Ginny, in her emerald green gown, was absolutely beautiful. Her long red hair was done up elaborately, and Harry let his eyes roam freely over the freckled skin of her shoulders, the line of her neck, and the absolutely radiant smile on het beautiful face. Glittering green slippers peeked from under the hem of her gown with every step she took.

He had practiced for this moment for an hour in front of the mirror today, until it had finally told him to go bugger off and bother someone else, but his throat felt constricted. This was a side of Ginny he had never truly seen before, and he was captivated by her. When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Harry met her there, pulling out the Impervioused rose he had been keeping in his inner pocket and offering it to her.

For what seemed like a long time they just stood there, grinning at each other, until the bright flash of a camera broke the spell. "You look absolutely stunning," he managed to say, to his own relief.

Ginny took the rose from him, her eyes never leaving his. "You're not so bad yourself, Mr. Potter." With that, she buried her nose in the rose and inhaled deeply. Harry had put a lot of effort into getting a flawless, wonderfully fragrant rose, and now he was glad for that. He let his eyes roam over her face, her hair, and her beautiful long neck.

Somewhere nearby, someone cleared his throat. He glanced a George, who was holding a large camera. "How's about we take a nice group picture of all of us dressed up for the ball?"

Harry realized that, without him noticing it, Fleur and Hermione had come down the stairs also, and everyone was now gathered in the sitting room. Hermione smiled and winked at him, and he grinned back at her before turning back to Ginny. Soon they were all posing, and a few flashes later, they were heading out the door and into the Ministry cars and Harry's limousine. Ginny's eyes widened at the car Harry took her to, and he caught Mr. Weasley looking impressed.

"Just wait until you see the swimming pool," he said, earning him an almost stricken look from his date.

"You're picking me up in a car with a swimming pool?"

He shrugged. "Well, I had to choose between that and a tennis court. Don't worry, we don't have to swim."

Her laugh rang out, a clear and joyful sound, and let her get into the car first, pausing in the doorway to wave at the rest of the Weasleys. When he stepped forward into the interior of the limo, he bumped into Ginny's back. She had stopped just inside of the car, which mostly resembled a luxury two-room hotel suite with a long indoor swimming pool, and stood staring transfixedly at the scene. Before he could stop himself, he had put his arms around her waist. She leaned into him.

"You've really gone all out tonight, haven't you?" She spoke softly, her head turned slightly so that his lips brushed against her temple, one hand on the hands encircling her waist. Her other hand still held the rose. The feel of her against him was bliss.

"Do you mind?" He said it just as quietly.

"I'm just a little overwhelmed," she answered. "This..." She gestured vaguely at the room with the hand holding the rose, "Well, let's just say that I've never been swept off my feet this extravagantly before. I'm used to much plainer stuff. Harry," and with that she turned around in his arms to face him, "you don't have to spend half your fortune to win me, really. I'm..."

He silenced her by putting a finger on her lips. "...worth every Galleon." He finished her sentence softly, feeling serious. "I know you're not used to having expensive stuff. Neither am I. And I'm not trying to buy you, or win you over with this. What I do want is for our first date to be something special."

She stared at him for a while, and he was amazed at how her dark eyes seemed to pull him in. He brushed her cheek lightly with one hand. Harry had planned the whole evening out in his mind, and so far, things were progressing better than he could have imagined. He did, however, now have to sternly remind himself that he had every intention of being a perfect gentleman tonight, a reminder he was reluctant to act on. The feel of her in his arms, her wonderful flowery scent, all of the things that made her so captivating to him, now strived to make him lose control. He imagined kissing her, here and now, but miraculously found the control to decide that he wanted to have a wonderful evening with her first.

"Do you want to sit down?" He heard the husky quality to his voice, and knew she could never have missed it, but was surprised to hear the same thing in hers when she answered him.

"Yeah," she said, "does this car come with a mini bar?"

Two drinks later, a more relaxed Harry and Ginny sat talking companionably in a pair of luxury chairs. He had not been to the Burrow for a few days, and she recounted tales of compromising scenes involving Ron and Hermione, more explosions and bouts of uncontrollable laughter from George, and the general mayhem of the house. Harry had fewer stories to tell, having spent most of his time at no. 12 Grimauld Place, but he managed to tickle a few laughs from Ginny by doing a rather horrid immitation of Kreacher.

When their conversation lulled a bit, Ginny became a bit more serious. "So how are you feeling, really?" She asked it slowly, deliberately, and Harry sensed that she was trying to find an opening for whatever it was she really wanted to discuss with him. To anyone else, he would have simply said "fine", or "great", but to Ginny he opted for complete honesty, even though he could not help staring at his shoes as he talked.

"The nightmares don't come every night anymore now, but I still get them now and then. I imagine we all have them. Other than that though," and with this, he looked up and caught her eye, "I feel peaceful. It's like I've been paddling upriver for years, and now I can suddenly just drift along with the current. I'm a bit nervous tonight, of course." He grinned at her, and Ginny smirked. "How are you, then?" Harry knew it was the right question to ask as soon as he asked it.

She sat back a bit, sipped her butterbeer, and sighed. "Well, the nightmares aren't so bad for me anymore either. I'm just confused, I guess."

He sat forward a bit. "What are you confused about?"

She gave a wry smile, then started talking. "Almost everything, I guess. I mean with Fred gone, my family just feels a bit weird. It's like we're all walking on egg shells to try and keep it all light and happy, and I'm just so tired of having to watch what I say around my brothers. Then there's Ron and Hermione, who are now stuck together so much that I don't have Hermione to talk to about girl stuff anymore. I'm not sure if I can bring myself to go back to school after all that's happened at Hogwarts last year, and if I don't go back, I don't know what I'd want to do for a living. And then of course there's you."

She gave Harry a sad smile, and he couldn't help but feel a nervous all of a sudden. Was she trying to tell him that she didn't care for him as much as she used to? "Actually, I think I'm just a bit nervous about our date, and appearing at the ball with you, in public, all dressed up like this. There's probably a million reporters waiting to take your picture. So tomorrow, we'll be on the front pages of all the newspapers together, with big headlines saying stuff like 'Weasley Girl Bags Boy Who Lived', or something, and everyone will know that we're going out. Do you, um, really want us to be that public on our first date? I mean, what if we end up having a horrible evening and never want to see each other again?"

Harry took her hand. "I'm an ass," he said, knowing it was true. "I never gave any thought to reporters that might be there, or how you'd feel about them if they were. Would you rather go somewhere else?"

She frowned. "You'd take me somewhere else if I wanted you to?"

Harry nodded. "In a heartbeat. Somewhere without any reporters, where it'd just be you and me. If you don't want us to go out in public on our first date, then we don't have to. I just..." Here he struggled for the right words. "I just wouldn't mind at all if the world knew how I feel about you, that's all."

The corner of Ginny's mouth twitched. She had liked it when he had said that. Harry's heart leapt. "I guess the press would find out sooner or later that we're dating," she said, "but I'm just a bit scared, you know. I mean, feelings can change. I'm just scared that you might change your mind sometime, and..."

Harry put a finger to her lips, and she stopped talking. He knew the feeling she described, the fear that the people she loved would leave her. "Ginny," he began, and made sure that he spoke slowly, deliberately, and clearly, "I will not change my mind. I will not make a fool of you. I am absolutely sure about my feelings for you. You have nothing to fear from me." As he spoke, they had come closer together. When she still said nothing, he chanced a glance out of the window, and saw that they were nearing their destination.

"Where do you want to go, Ginny?"

She smiled. "To the ball," she said, "if you'll still have me." He grinned, and then in an impulse, kissed her lightly on the tip of her nose. She wrinkled it and smiled. Just then, the driver's voice announced that they would arrive in five minutes.

"You really are hell-bent on doing this the noble way, aren't you?" Ginny looked almost serious, but Harry heard the laugh in her voice.

Still, he made himself answer seriously. "Yeah, I am. Do you mind?"

She shook her head. "No, I don't." She spoke softly. As Harry took another sip of his butterbeer, he felt a pleasant tingle running through his whole body. The butterflies he felt were not nerves, he realized. Draining his bottle, he wondered if Ginny felt something similar.

The red carpet treatment, he mused a short time later, was more interesting to people who came to watch than it was to the people on the carpet. When the car had pulled up to the entrance of the Ministry that was reserved for the guests of the ball, they had been shocked at the number of reporters that were present to take pictures of the arriving people.

As Harry stepped out of the limousine, he tried to ignore the multitude of flashes that indicated his picture was being taken and concentrate on helping Ginny out of the car. She froze halfway through the motion of exiting the car, and he had to pull her up to get her to stand next to him. He put an arm around her waist to steady her, and was surprised when she responded by leaning into him and smiling up at him. He noticed Ron and Hermione stepping out of the car in front of his, and soon the four of them were standing together. He didn't see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Bill or Fleur anywhere, so they must have already gone inside.

Taking strength from each other, they posed for the cameras and then attempted to go inside, but they were soon swamped by reporters, all trying to ask their questions the loudest. Aurors from the Ministry were working to clear a path for them, but the press of the reporters was so great that they would soon have to resort to casting spells. Harry decided to try and help them a bit. Taking his wand from the inner pocket of his dress robes, he pointed it at his own throat, muttered "Sonorus", then raised his voice.

"EVERYBODY SHUT UP!".

The booming sound quieted most of the reporters, who now clutched quills to ensure that they would not miss any quotes. Now for the hard part. "Alright. We will answer five questions for you, and five questions only, then we want to go inside." He saw Ron nod out of the corner of his eye, and flinched when all of the reporters started yelling their questions again. He spotted Rita Skeeter among the crowd. Well, she had inadvertently helped him by writing Albus Dumbledore's biography. He pointed at her.

She looked thoughtful for a moment, as if considering the question she wanted to ask. "Does the fact that miss Weasley is your date tonight suggest that you are finally over Hermione Granger?" Harry heard an indignant "WHAT?!" from somewhere to his right, and hurried to stop Hermione in her tracks before she could send an angry retort at the reporter.

"Contrary to what you have always thought, Rita," he said, and was glad that Hermione stayed silent, "there has never been anything other than friendship between Hermione Granger and myself. As to my date tonight," and at this he glanced at Ginny and saw her watching him with an unreadable expression on her face, "Ginny and I are on our first official date together, and I will leave you to speculate on what that might mean for the rest of the world."

He had spent the last five minutes of their ride in the limousine preparing for that question, knowing that someone was bound to ask it. While answering it, he had not once looked away from Ginny's face, and saw her look change into a mirror of the wide grin that he expected to be on his own face. While he stared at her, Hermione spoke behind him. "And as you can see, Ronald Weasley has me firmly in his clutches."

Ron growled something that sounded like "And don't you forget it." There was a squeak from behind Harry, then a collective gasp among the reporters, and then a lot of flashing cameras. The thought of his best friends snogging in front of a hundred reporters did not distract him from Ginny's face. That move by Ron did break the ice between the four and the reporters, however, and Ginny's vice grip on his hand had slackened to pleasant but firm. They were presented with four other questions, mostly about the war and their roles in the downfall of Voldemort, but when they finally moved to enter the building, a reporter nearby blurted out one more question, very loudly. "Mr. Potter, it is rumoured that you are now the master of the Elder Wand. Is that true?"

Harry stopped in his tracks and turned to face the reporter. The din quieted down once more, and a quick glance told him that the reporters were all listening avidly once more. This would not do at all, any rumours of the Elder Wand might lead to ambitious people trying to take it from him, and the last thing the world needed was another madman with an unbeatable wand. Adressing the reporter, he thought fast.

"I've heard that rumour myself, but no, I'm not the master of the Elder Wand. As you can see," he said, taking out his own wand and holding it out where everyone could see it clearly, "my wand is made of Holly. I bought it from Olivander when I was eleven years old, and I expect that it will not be replaced by another. Cool as the idea of an unbeatable wand might be, I don't have one. Sorry."

With that, he went inside, pulling Ginny with him, and hoping the reporters would believe his lie. Once inside, they waited for Ron and Hermione to catch up. "What was that all about?" Ginny's voice was curious but serious. "It's a long story," he said, "and I'll tell it to you some time. Just not here, okay?"

She nodded, then smiled at Ron. "Way to go there, brother dearest!" They all burst out laughing, even Hermione, who was red as a beet.

When they all quieted down a bit, Ron said "Well, there won't be any more rumours about Hermione and Harry, I'll wager." At that, the girls took their men's offered arms and went through the reception hall and into the ballroom. To their surprise, there was an announcer there, who banged his ornate staff on the ground and called out names as they entered. At the sound of "Mr. Harry Potter and Ms. Ginevra Weasley", all went quiet, and the call of "Mr. Ronald Weasley and Ms. Hermione Granger" echoed loudly through the hall.

Harry halted uncertainly. Was he supposed to do something? Then someone began clapping. Others quickly joined in, and soon a tumuluous applause broke out. How long they stood there, Harry did not know, but soon people were rushing forward to shake his, Ron's and Hermione's hands. Harry struggled to keep near Ginny until she whispered in his ear.

"This ball is in your honour, you know. Just shake everyone's hands, I'll still be here in a few minutes." With a wink, she let go of his hand and said "I'll get us some drinks", then walked off towards the end of the hall.

Harry groaned inwardly. He wanted nothing more than to spend every ounce of attention he had on her this evening, and to hell with all the people who wanted to shake his hand. Still, he managed a smile and a nod for most of them. When Kingsley Shacklebolt finally appeared in front of him, he was treated to a reassuring wink to go along with the dark man's solemn handshake, and then Kingsley asked the three of them if he could have a private word.

He raised his voice to apologize to everyone for having to steal the trio away for a bit, then set off with them into a more secluded corner of the hall. Harry felt a soft nudge, and sighed happily when he found Ginny standing by his side. "Sorry about that," he said, accepting the glass of pumpkin juice she offered him and putting his free arm around her, "I hadn't counted on this kind of reception."

Ginny laughed, a happy and carefree laugh. "You really didn't expect this, did you?"

Harry frowned. "No, I didn't. I guess I just thought people would treat me the way they'd always done. Stare a bit, and then go on with their lives, you know." She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek.

"What was that for?" He smiled down at her as he asked it.

She smiled back. "For being so wonderfully oblivious."

A cough behind him reminded them both of the company they were in. "Well well," Kingley began, and Harry turned to face him while keeping his free arm around Ginny. "Mr. Potter, I must say how glad I am that you could make it to our little party. The same goes for Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger here. I was hoping to have a private word with the three of you." Ginny made to move away, but Harry kept a firm grip on her and said: "I'm sure you wouldn't mind if Ginny stayed, would you?" Kingsley shook his head and smiled. "Not at all, Mr. Potter, not at all. In fact, I was hoping to have a word with Ms. Weasley as well in a minute, and Ms. Lovegood and Mr. Longbottom as well. Since neither of them have been announced yet, we will get to that later. For now, I would like to discuss with you, the main reason you are here."

Harry frowned. "There's more to this ball than just a dance and a drink then?"

Kingley nodded solemnly. "There is. The three of you, that is you, Mr. Potter, as well as Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger here, are to be awarded the Order of Merlin, First Class..." There was a stunned gasp from Hermione. Harry saw Ron's mouth drop open, and the arm Ginny had put around his back flinched. The Minister for Magic went on without pause. "...for your roles in the defeat of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. We did not put this in the invitation, because Arthur Weasley thought that it might discourage you from attending."

Harry nodded. "It might have." He said it matter-of-factly, and the Minister chuckled.

"Modest though you may be, Mr. Potter, the Wizarding community wants very much to bestow this award upon you. I do hope that you will accept it - not now, of course, but later on in the evening when all the guests have arrived."

Harry nodded again. "Of course, I'm here anyway. I do have one condition though." They all turned to watch him, and Kingley pulled up one of his rather massive eyebrows. "If you want to do this publicly, then you'll call him by his name. Voldemort. The Wizarding community has been afraid of that name for long enough."

The Minister looked thoughtful for a moment, then nodded. "I quite agree. So It is settled then?"

They all nodded.

The Minister next turned to Ginny. "Ms. Weasley," he began, and Ginny surprised them all by blurting out "You're not giving us the Order of Merlin too, are you? We didn't do half as much as this lot!" They all laughed, except for Ginny, who blushed furiously when reminded of whom she was talking to.

"No, Ms. Weasley," Kingsley continued after a short pause, his eyes smiling, "but Professor McGonagall would like to offer you the Award for Special Services to the school of Hogwarts, in light of your part in the organization known as Dumbledore's Army. As you know, Dumbledore's Army was instrumental in bringing together the people who were involved in the battle of Hogwarts, as well as forming a symbol for the resistance of the students against the teachings of Voldemort."

Ginny was quiet for a time, then nodded slowly. "I think I'd like that, but only if Luna and Neville accept it too. It was more Neville than Luna and me, and Neville can be as modest as Harry sometimes."

Kingsley nodded. "I will discuss it with them as soon as they arrive. Thank you for this brief word, all four of you, I will leave you to escape notice at your leasure." With a wink, he made his way across the hall to talk to Mr. Weasley.

Harry grumbled, and the others laughed at the expression on his face. "To think that your father is in on it," he said to both Ron and Ginny, who laughed even louder, "and he didn't even warn me! I mean, he could have said something like," and here he tried for an immitation of Arthur Weasley's voice, "Harry, my boy, are you sure you want to take my daughter to the award ceremony for your Order of Merlin, First Class, on your first date? Isn't that a bit over the top?" They all laughed even louder, and Harry only managed to keep his composure for a few more seconds before joining in. Ginny hugged him, awkwardly juggling her glass to keep from spilling pumpkin juice on the both of them, then kissed his cheek again.

"You're cute when you're angry," she said, and he could not help but grin.

They managed to navigate the room a bit more easily after their rendezvous with the Minister, and the shaking of hands no longer interfered with his ambition to stay near Ginny. She, for her part, only seemed amused at the attention he was getting, and shook a fair few hands herself. It seemed that many people knew of her role in Dumbledore's Army, and Harry was amazed at the grace she showed when confronted with these admirers. She was a lot better at this than he was. When Kingsley Shacklebolt took the stage, he felt his heart drop. Surely the awards would not be handed out before the dance had even started?

"Welcome to you all, witches and wizards from the four corners of the world." The Minister's voice was loud and clear, and the ballroom was soon quiet aside from the deep, steady sound of his voice. "Today, we honour our champions in the battle against the Dark wizard, Voldemort."

The Minister tactfully waited until the gasps and mutters of the crowd were stilled, probably having known the effect the name would have on them. "Today, we honour those who have worked to resist him. Today, we honour the man who defeated him. Before we do so, however, I would offer to you all the chance to dance and mingle, purebloods and Muggle-borns alike, in honour of the values which Voldemort so vehemently tried to quell. I bid you all, let there be music and merriment!."

With that, the orchestra that was gathered on the stage behind him began playing a soft but merry tune. Harry glanced at Ginny, just catching her eyes as she tried to pretend she had not been watching him. "Do you want to dance?"

This did not have the effect on Ginny he had been hoping for. She paled, looked scared, and then muttered something, shaking her head. Not catching what she had been muttering, he leaned closer. "What was that?" She looked at him, and he almost thought that she looked embarassed.

"I can't dance." She said it in a tiny voice, then sighed. "Mum and dad never had the money to pay for dancing lessons, and they only taught me a few steps before the war broke out. I never learned to dance, you know, like real ballroom dancing." Her shoulders sagged a bit, and she looked down. "I'm sorry, I'm totally useless."

Harry cupped her chin with his free hand and put his drink down on a nearby table. "First of all, you're NOT useless." He said it softly, making sure that only she could hear him, and feeling happy that this was an excuse for him to stand close to her. "Second, I'm rubbish at dancing myself. Remember the Yule Ball?" At this, a small smile touched her lips.

"Yeah, you were really handsome then. I was still blinded by love then, of course, so I didn't pay attention to how well you were dancing."

He grinned at her. "Good," he said, "let's try and see if that trick still works then."

With no further warning than that, he pulled her to him and spun onto the dance floor with her. She knew the steps, he had known it, because she had danced quite well at the Yule Ball. Insecurities or no, she squealed in delight as they danced, and only laughed when he fumbled a few steps. As the music slowed to a gentle waltz, he found an opportunity to talk a bit.

"So, you can't dance? Could've fooled me..."

She gave him a radiant smile. "I guess you're just good at leading."

For a while, they danced, smiling at each other and just enjoying the way they moved together. When the music slowed and then stopped, Harry did not immediately let go of her. This was the way he always wanted to be with her, happy and free of all the worries. He found his eyes wandering from her face to her hair, from which a few strays now dangled over her face. Feeling a need to touch it, he brushed a few of them from her face and tucked them behind her ear.

Her eyes were on his, her smile now more private, more intimate, and he pulled her closer with the arm that was still around her waist, brushing her cheek with the thumb of his other hand. She did not pull back, and her eyes drifted closed as she neared him. It was all the permission he needed.

He kissed her, gently, intimately, and his heart soared. The feel of her against him again, the scent of her, the tumble of emotions that ran through him as they kissed, it all made him lose track of time, until he forced himself to break the kiss. The ballroom was very quiet.

Ginny giggled, putting her head against his shoulder and hugging him. "What is it with you and kissing me in front of an audience?" She whispered, the laugh in her voice betraying her amusement. In answer, he pressed her closer to him.

Feeling that he had to say something, he said: "I couldn't help myself. Hope you don't mind."

She looked up at him, and he saw the happy smile on her face. "Not at all. I think Ron might mind though." At this, Harry frowned. He had just kissed her and she wanted to talk about her brother? Only then did he notice the flashes.

"Oh," he muttered, feeling his face flush, "When did they let the reporters in?"

Back to index

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Chapter 4: Snow

The Order of Merlin hung gleaming from a nail in the wall of Harry's room as he packed. Sunlight glinted off it and it drew his attention, bringing him back to that moment several months ago when he had kissed Ginny in front of a hundred reporters, the Minister of magic, her parents and most of his friends. Try as he might, he could not make that glinting medal the most important event of that evening. He had not tried often.

The moments they had had alone on the grounds of Hogwarts since then were plentiful, and though they were both studying hard for the upcoming N.E.W.T.'s, Harry and Ginny were happy and free of the burdens of the war. He was happier than he could remember ever being before. Glancing around, his eyes lingered on the badge that hung from his school robes a short distance away. "Head Boy", it read.

He had almost gotten into a duel with Professor McGonagall, who had adamantly refused to give the post to Ron instead when he attempted to refuse to accept it. Her arguments had been sound, of course. Harry Potter was a symbol for the way the Wizarding community had won out against the tyranny of Voldemort, and making any other student Head Boy would have been unacceptable. When Harry finally relented, he had found that the privileged position of a Head Boy had more advantages than he had initially expected.

For starters, he was now allowed to be out of bed during curfew hours. At this, he often grumbled, as he was supposed to be patrolling the corridors to ensure that no other students were out of bed, but the quiet time he could spend just gazing at the stars from the Astronomy Tower gave him peace as well as a bit of practice at Astrology.

Then there was the matter of handing out detentions to such students as merited them. He handed out more warnings than detentions, not wanting to abuse his position of power, and to his surprise the students responded well to his way of working. He practiced this as well in the DA, since the majority of its members had opted to keep Dumbledore's Army alive as a study group for Defence Against the Dark Arts even though (or perhaps because) that teaching post was now filled by Auror-gone-Professor Dawlish.

Since the start of term, Harry had yet to lose a practice duel against the man, and most of the students payed more attention in the classes Harry taught during the DA meetings than they did in the actual lessons.

Finally, there was the large room he had all to himself. Though he had initially felt sour about no longer sharing a dorm with his friends, the privacy had actually grown on him. He had been surprised to find that there were no impropriety detection charms that he could discover. Ginny had suggested that it might be because the position of Head Boy was usually given to students of high moral standing. Harry liked to think of it as a gift from heaven, as it allowed him to spend private time with Ginny without having to resort to empty classrooms and broom cupboards.

Though dodging Filch under the invisibility cloak had at one time in the past seemed like an exciting and adventurous passtime, he had matured a great deal over the past years. The intimate setting of his room was by far a better place to explore their relationship. Of course, they did not do anything that would actually trigger a proper impropriety detection charm. They had not needed to even discuss it to decide that theirs would be a proper and chaste courtship. They enjoyed each other's company, shared moments kissing and cuddling in his room, discussed their fears and wants, and studied together.

For all intents and purposes the trio he had once formed with Ron and Hermione was now a quartet, and their friendship was all the better for lack of chafing worries about Dark wizards. Hermione had slipped back into her pattern of dogging them about homework as if they had never been away, Ron was focusing more on Quiddich practice than on his schoolwork and Ginny was her usual, beautiful, self.

Harry found himself a changed man. With no more Voldemort to trouble him, he now found a great deal of pleasure in earning good marks at school and had finally decided that if the students were going to look up to him, he would set them a worthy example. His newfound fervor had earned him the admiration of Hermione and the scorn of Ron, the latter of which had recently developed the annoying habit of accidentally calling him Percy and then correcting himself.

He had not, of course, given up Quiddich. In fact, the team was doing better than ever, even though it was now under the care of Ginny Weasley as Captain. She had held official trials for all positions and had made him work as hard for the position of Seeker as Oliver Wood ever had, but her rigorous training schedule had payed off when they had squashed Huffelpuff in the first game of the year, beating them by a staggering 400 points. By the time Christmas break came, Gryffindor house had a major lead for both the House Cup and the Quiddich Cup, all four of them were doing outstanding on almost all their classes, and they were ready for a break from studying. Hermione's parents had offered the four of them the ideal circumstances for just that break.

For the next week, the four of them would be skiing in Austria, where they would be staying at the small lodge that the Grangers owned. Tugging on his warmest socks, Harry smiled in anticipation. A week away from studying, classes and responsibilities was good enough on its own, but the idea of skiing really appealed to him. He had never done it before, of course, nor had Ron or Ginny, but Hermione had been jabbering about it for weeks and had promised to teach them everything she knew.

After their skiing trip they would head to the Burrow for the actual Christmas celebrations, where they would be joined by the Grangers. Only partially to Hermione's chagrin, her parents had insisted upon having a joint Christmas celebration with "their daughter's future in-laws", and had opted to stay in England while "the kids" had a bit of "fun in the snow" before Christmas.

"Honestly," she could be heard complaining in the Gryffindor Common Room, "it's not like we have plans to get married or anything. I mean, Ron and I have only been together for a few months now and already they're pretending we'll have seven children as soon as we finish school!" Everyone in the Common Room had laughed at that statement, but Harry and Ginny had noticed the small smile Hermione had had on her lips as she said it.

Discussing it later in the privacy of Harry's room, they had speculated if Hermione had actually been imagining a future where Ron would ask her while they were still in school. Ginny had managed to shock Harry into silence by suggesting that she herself might be open to such a romantic gesture, but had rolled around laughing at the look on his face and confessed that she really did not think that she would accept just yet. Strangely, Harry had spent that evening unable to sleep and having restless fantasies about just how Ginny would look in a wedding dress, standing together with him like Bill and Fleur had done at their wedding. Chuckling to himself now as he finished packing and locked his trunk, he knew the stage was set for a memorable Christmas break.

There are limits and boundaries to Apparition that go beyond the realm of wards and shields. One can only Apparate a certain distance, and the exact distance one can Apparate is determined equally by experience and talent. It had therefore surprised nobody when Ron had suggested that they take a ship across the Canal before Apparating in hops to their destination in Austria. So it was that after they had gathered in Hogsmeade, the quartet Disapparated to reappear seconds later in Dover. Shortly later they had procured tickets and were boarding the ferry.

To Ginny and Ron this boat full of Muggles and the Muggle stores on board were a succession of discoveries, and Harry and Hermione could not help but laugh and give in when the redheaded siblings begged them to see the on-board movie, having never been to a Muggle theatre before. The trip across the water was very enjoyable and passed much more quickly than they had expected it to, so that they had soon set foot on French soil in the harbor of Calais.

After passing through customs - a process that involved confunding three customs officers, as Hermione was the only one with a valid Muggle passport - they made for one of the bathrooms in the passenger terminal. Ron whipped out the map of Europe they had brought as Harry took care of the security camera, and they had soon decided on a good destination for their first Apparition hop.

Within half an hour they had made it to Austria and found themselves in the mountain town of Ischgl. From there Hermione lead the way.

"Ooooh, I'm so happy to be back here!" She breathed in the frigid air and spun around on the spot, her mane of bushy hair flying in the wind. "My parents often took me skiing before I started at Hogwarts. I might be a bit rusty, but I used to be quite good at it as a child. I know I used to love it."

Ron frowned. "I thought you said you didn't like skiing much, that time when we spent Christmas with Sirius."

Hermione blushed. "Well, you must have heard me wrong, Ronald. Honestly, I can't imagine why you'd think I said something like that." Ron scowled. Harry felt a sudden gallant need to save his friend's dignity.

"Your exact words were..." He coughed, then did a passing imitation of Hermione's voice. "Well, to tell the truth, skiing's not really my thing." Ron grinned, as did Ginny, and it was Hermione's turn to scowl. Harry put up his hands in apology. "You did say not to tell Ron, but it looks like he heard it anyway."

That deflected Hermione's glare from him to Ron, whose grin did not falter as he addressed Harry. "Extendable Ears, mate. Always said they're brilliant. Besides, it's not as if I were the only one listening." At this he gave a slight jerk of his head to where Ginny was trying to duck behind Harry, and Harry could not help but laugh at Hermione's angry huff.

"Well if you must know, RONALD," she ranted, and Ron did flinch this time, "I came back early from that trip because I wanted to spend some time with YOU. Just because you were too thick to notice me back then... Oooh BOYS!" She shrieked that last part and stalked off in the direction of the village. Ron shrugged and took off after her, catching up with her in a few quick long strides and leaving Harry to walk after them with Ginny.

Watching Ron put an arm around Hermione, who surprisingly relented after shrugging him off only once, he put an arm around his own girlfriend. Something cold and white hit him square in the face. He jumped back, spitting out snow, and with the one eye that was not blocked by the snow that had gotten behind his glasses he saw Ginny laughing, snow the remains of a handful of snow still stuck to her glove. She darted away from him when he bellowed "YOU ARE SO DEAD!" at her, but he caught up with her easily. She squealed as he pulled her down, one hand already grabbing a fist full of snow, but was surprised when a snowball knocked his glasses off his head before he could stuff it in her face.

"Oi! Get off my sister!" Ron yelled, laughing. Before he could get another snowball together he was bowled over into the snow by Hermione, who had obviously decided to come to Harry's defense. Soon both couples were wrestling in the snow. It was not difficult to pin Ginny to the ground. It was, in fact, too easy. When he kissed her rather than stuffing her face full of snow, as he had originally intended, she met him eagerly. Only when another snowball hit him in the ear did Harry break the kiss to scowl up at Ron.

"Told you to get off my sister," the lanky redhead said as he tossed another snowball up and down in his hand, "you should've just listened. Now I'll have to pummel you until you've learned your lesson." Harry felt his scowl fade into a competitive grin. "Yeah?" He got up slowly, trying to get the hard-packed snow out of his ear. "You up for some Muggle snow dueling then?" Ron laughed. "Too easy," he said, and threw the snowball at Harry.

He'd put a lot of strength behind that throw, but Harry was ready for him this time. He had been training his Seeker reflexes for months, and though Ron was a great keeper, he was not as fast as Harry was. Harry's hand darted out at the snowball as he stepped aside, plucking the hard snowball neatly out of the air and swinging it back at Ron. The redhead's eyes widened as he saw the snowball leave Harry's hand, but he never had time to put his hands up or duck out of the way. There was a "thump" and Ron toppled over backward, the remains of the snowball still stuck to his forehead. All of them, even Ron, burst out laughing.

A short while of fun in the snow later they arrived at the Grangers' cottage. The small wooden building looked cozy enough from the outside. The wooden walls looked well maintained, the windows were clean and there was a neat pile of firewood stacked against one of the walls. A stone chimney protruded from the tiled roof.

"Well, here we are!" Hermione turned the key in the lock and the door opened smoothly. "My parents let some of the locals use this cottage in exchange for a bit of maintenance and cleaning, so it always looks good when we come here. The living room is down here, and we can sleep upstairs. There are two bedrooms there. The bathroom's over here." She proceeded to give them a grand tour of the cottage, which ended at the upstairs bedrooms. "So, how about Ginny and I take this room, and Ron and Harry take the other one?"

They had not thought to discuss the sleeping arrangements before. Harry thought that Ginny would agree with Hermione, but she surprised him by shaking her head and laughing.

"Hermione, we're all of age and there's no supervision. Can't we just sleep with our boyfriends?"

Hermione blushed furiously and, predictably, Ron immediately exploded. "You are NOT sleeping with Harry!"

Ginny scowled at her brother, her hands on her hips. "Are you trying to tell me what to do again?" She had that scary Mrs. Weasley-ish pitch to her voice, and Harry figured it was time to step in before she decided to start hexing people.

"She didn't mean what you took it to mean, Ron. Some people have the control to sleep together without, you know, sleeping together."

Ron's look darkened. "It's not you I'm worried about, mate. It's her." Harry rolled his eyes and prepared for the explosion. Hermione cut in before Ginny could start up again.

"Actually I don't think I'm ready to spend the night with Ron just yet." That stopped Ginny in her tracks. Ron nodded. Hermione blushed again, but continued. "If you must know, Ron and I recently decided that we'd wait a while before taking that step. That's why I suggested these sleeping arrangements." Harry exchanged a glance with Ginny. She looked annoyed, but didn't speak up, so he figured he might as well respect his friends' wishes.

"Ah, well," he began, "we'll just, um, do it you way then." Ginny nodded. Ron deflated. They all stood there awkwardly for a moment, then as one, they picked up their trunks and headed into their rooms.

Closing the door behind Ron, Harry rounded on him. "What the hell was that all about? I mean, I won't force you to sleep with Hermione, but we're all adults here after all."

Ron put his trunk down with a loud thump and sat on his bed. "Look, it's not like I'm going to tell you everything that's happening between me and Hermione, okay, so don't go asking any more. She just... wants to do things the proper way, she says. Not give people the wrong idea about us, 'fore we're married and all."

Harry was at a loss for words for a moment, then just said "Wow". They were quiet for a while, then he could not help himself. "You do realize that we're just talking about sleeping here, right? I mean look, there's seperate beds and everything."

Ron scowled. "This was NOT my idea, alright? Now drop it." Recognizing that he'd hit a nerve, Harry decided to let it rest. Whatever this was, it was between Ron and Hermione, and he knew from experience what would happen if he tried to mediate between them. In fact, it would probably be worse, since they were now officially together and this was obviously something personal between them.

He slumped down on his own bed. "Okay, I'm sorry."

Ron looked up. "Nothing to be sorry about, mate. 's Just something between me and 'Mione." He looked away, but continued speaking. "She's important to me. I just don't want to push her into anything she doesn't want to do."

Harry considered this. "That sounds smart enough," he said eventually. "It's the same with me and Ginny. She's just less worried about what people will think, I guess."

Ron shook his head. "Don't give me any details about you and my sister, alright?"

That got Harry laughing. "Like Hermione's not like a sister to me. I really don't want to know what you do with her, either!" Just like that, the air had cleared again, and they started unpacking their things. The beds were simple but comfortable and they had only a few things to unpack, so they'd arrived in the living room fairly quickly. The girls took a bit longer, and they had time to get a good fire going in the hearth.

Not understanding the gas stove in the tiny kitchen, Ron used magic to heat four mugs of chocolate and had just finished putting them on the table when Ginny plopped down onto the couch next to Harry. Hermione kissed Ron's cheek before sitting down next to him. He put an affectionate arm around her and Ginny snuggled up to Harry.

"I'll tell you mine if you tell me yours," Harry said later that evening when he and Ginny were taking a stroll through the village.

Ginny flashed him the guiltiest look of innocence he had seen her give in a long time, then when he just stared at him, feebly attempted "I'm sure I don't know what you mean..." A few more seconds and a pointed stare later she relented. "Of, fine," she muttered, "Hermione told me everything that's bothering her. Just so long as you know that I'm breaking a confidence by telling you anything, and if you tell her I blabbed you'll be lucky if all I do to you is hex you."

Harry nodded solemnly. "Same here," he said, and turned to walk into a pub.

They found a quiet table in a corner near the window. Harry ordered two mugs of heated spiced wine, a local specialty that Hermione had been telling them about earlier, then sat down and gave Ginny an expectant look.

She shook her head and asked: "Why don't you go first?" She complemented the question with a sly grin. "Just so I can see how much you already know." As an afterthought, she added: "You know, so I don't go on about stuff you've already heard about."

Harry leaned in to kiss her on the nose, then sat back to allow the waitress to put a steaming mug of dark red liquid on the table in front of him. The wine had a rich odour of spices that teased his nostrils as the steam wafted up at him from where the mug stood, and he picked it up to really smell the stuff. As he took a good sniff of the vapors, a feeling of warmth and utter contentment came over him. The effect was not unlike that of the Amortentia he had smelled at the beginning of his sixth year at Hogwarts, though the odours were more mysterious and for the most part unrecognizable. Ginny was doing the same. The look on her face mirrored his own feeling of contentment.

"Hermione did say this was a Muggle drink, didn't she?" Ginny eyed the drink curiously before gingerly sipping it. She nodded appreciatively after a moment. "That's quite nice actually," she said, her voice light and just a bit too casual. "I could have sworn it was some kind of potion from the way it smelled. Just goes to show the kind of wonders Muggles can work without magic sometimes. You were saying?"

Her wide-eyed innocent stare was so incredibly transparent that Harry chuckled. She was cute when she was trying to manipulate him. Then again, maybe that was why he so often allowed her to manipulate him into things. So she wanted him to tell her Ron's version first, well, there was no harm in doing that. He sipped the dark brew and was surprised at the strong but very pleasant taste.

"Wow, that IS good stuff," he exclaimed when the warmth of the drink spread throughout him. "Okay, have it your way then." He winked at her. "Ron told me Hermione doesn't want people to get the wrong idea. I think he meant that if they sleep in the same room, we might tell someone, and they'd think that the two of them were doing things they aren't. So that's why he says they're not sleeping in the same room."

Ginny sat looking at him expectantly. When he just shrugged, her eyes narrowed. "That's everything?"

Harry nodded. "Yup. After that we unpacked and went downstairs. We'd gotten the fire started and Ron made chocolate before you two got down, remember?"

Ginny took another sip of her wine. "I guess girls talk more than boys," she said. "So basically, Ron says Hermione's scared to make herself look like some kind of scarlet woman just because they'd be sleeping in the same room?"

Harry nodded again. "Basically, yeah."

Ginny looked blank. "Oh."

They sat there sipping their drinks, savoring the warmth and the taste, until Harry could not take it anymore.

"So what did Hermione tell you?"

He knew she was teasing him when she replied. "I'm really not sure if I should tell you. It's a bit more revealing than Ron's story. Actually, Ron's story was just such an example of Ron's lack of perceptiveness..." Harry drummed his fingers on the table and drew up an eyebrow. She winked. "Okay, but you're going to be shocked."

Harry grinned. "Try me." He picked up his cup and took another sip of his wine.

Ginny sat forward suddenly and spoke. "Hermione wants to have sex with my brother."

Harry felt some of his wine shoot down his windpipe and coughed violently. That only made the stuff shoot up to his nasal cavity and soon he was spluttering and coughing and quite uncomfortable. Ginny just sat smiling sweetly at him as he tried to discreetly clean himself with his wand. When he had regained some of his composure, he glared at her.

"You did that on purpose."

Her smile went even wider. "Why Harry, you're the one who asked me what we talked about, all I did was tell you. Well, part of it at least. Do you want me to continue?" Looking ruefully at his mug, from which he had spilled about a third onto the table in his coughing fit, he shrugged.

"The worst is out now, right? Besides, I don't really understand what this has to do with them not sleeping together. If she wants to, um,"

Ginny cut in smoothly. "Shag my brother?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah, that. Well, they'd do better to sleep in the same room, right?"

Ginny nodded, then continued her story. "This is Hermione we're talking about, right? Keep that in mind. Here goes. Ron and Hermione'd been dancing around each other for years before they got together, right?" Harry nodded, but let her continue. "Well, when they finally did get together, it was like they couldn't stop themselves from going too far. Well, that's how Hermione tells it, her exact words were 'one minute he would kiss me, you know, just they way you and Harry seem to like, and the next minute I would find myself tearing off his shirt'. Ron is actually the most controlled of the two. He just, um, you know, stops her from going too far. So when they talked about the sleeping arrangements before we left for Austria, he was the one to say that we should sleep separated."

Harry's mouth had opened of its own accord and he snapped it shut with a rather loud "click". "Well," he managed after a while, "that's pretty interesting. Who'd have thought that proper and bookish Hermione would be so..." At a loss for words, he looked at Ginny, who smiled.

"Horny?" She asked, and they both laughed.

"Well, yeah," Harry chuckled, "I mean, I thought I had the both of them figured out after all these years, but I'd really have thought that Ron would be the one to get beat down by Hermione for trying things. Sort of like you do with me, you know." With that he gave her a wink. "So Ron forced these sleeping arrangements on us. Maybe I can beat them out of him."

Ginny paled. "No! You are NOT telling either of them that you know about this!"

Harry smiled. "Of course I won't. And not just because of your Bat Bogey Hexes. It's weird enough for me to know about this, let alone tell them I know... But if it's all the same to you I'd prefer to have you to wake up next to."

Ginny snorted. "Oh yeah, my brother is really going to break in the face of that argument. Besides, we're talking about sleeping, not... more, you know..."

Harry sat back and drained the last of his warm wine. He had shared a bed with Ginny only once, when she had fallen asleep in his arms in his Head Boy's room after they had lay there and cuddled for a while. He had never pushed her to do anything, and was really quite content with the slow and sure pace at which their relationship was progressing.

For her part, Ginny seemed just as content to postpone the things that involved removing items of clothing until later. They had never really discussed this, and he was not really sure when he wanted "later" to be. The right time would just present itself, he had always thought, and so far it had not.

"I know," he said, mainly to let her know he had heard her. "Do you want to just go along with it?"

Ginny nodded. "Yeah. I mean, it's a decision they made, right? We should respect it and just cuddle on the couch." Putting enough of the Muggle money they had brought on the table to pay for the drinks, Harry got up.

"Let's head back before they start thinking we're talking about them." Arm in arm they walked back to the cottage.

The first few days flew by. Hermione had arranged for skis for all of them, and after a quick run down the slope on her own had apparently decided that she could still ski well enough to teach her friends. The first part of their first day of skiing was spent mainly with falling over and crawling back up, which got Ron grumbling under his breath within the hour, but after they had finally gotten the hang of how to stand, stop and steer on their skis they were ready for the first run down what Hermione lovingly called "the kiddy slope".

Despite the number of cushioning charms Hermione had used during their first day, they were all sore when they got back to the fire that evening.

"Well, I have to admit Hermione," Ron said as Harry and Ginny were cooking and Hermione was hanging out her jacket to dry, "you're a pretty good teacher. And this whole skiing thing is pretty neat."

Hermione beamed at the compliment and put even more fervor into it on the second day. For their part, the young wizards learned quickly. By the end of the second day, they were all speeding down the steeper slopes, and by the third day they were completely comfortable on their skis.

In the afternoon of the fourth day, halfway through their week in Austria, Hermione suggested that they take a break from skiing to watch the sun set from the top of one of the mountains, and they promptly Apparated to the nearest peak, taking care to do so as quietly as possible. Feeling safe that they had not started an avalanche, they stowed their wands away and sat down in the snow.

"Can you imagine," Ginny began after a while, "that there's nobody even remotely close to us right now?" She got up and walked nearer to the ledge. Ron followed her example, though Harry thought it was likely to be because he wanted to make sure she did not fall off the mountain. When they neared the ledge, Ginny looked down, then slowly turned around and looked at Harry and Hermione. "You should see this, it's like a sea of snow down there. Come and ha..."

She got no further than that, because the entire crust of snow under her feet had begun to move. For an instant Harry caught a look of shock and horror on her face, then she was gone. Beside him, Hermione shouted "RON!" and she was on her feet before he was. Recklessly he charged to the edge of the snow and pulled out his wand. He pointed it at the avalanche that was unfurling beneath him and bellowed "Accio Ginny!" while beside him he heard Hermione yell "Arresto Momentum!"

He instantly knew that had been a bad idea, and saw Hermione's look of shock as their shouts dislodged the snow they were standing on, and then they went sliding down the mountain in another cascade of white, powdery snow. Hermione's shriek was muffled by the snow that pulled them under. Harry could not breathe, all he knew was that he was falling, rolling around in the snow, being buffeted by white clod of snow after white clod of snow until he hit something big with a painful "thud". The wind that remained to him was knocked out of him and he fought frantically to get out from under the snow.

His hand broke the surface. He clawed himself up, grabbing hold of the hard solid object that had stopped his rolling and pulling himself up through the white crust that had settled over him. Around him, all was white. His stomach dropped. Where were his friends? Where was Ginny? Forcing his mind to work, he checked his options. His wand was still clutched tightly in his hand. What was that spell Hermione had used?

"Homenum Revelio!"

He pointed his wand around him, hoping this would work, and felt it twitch. He ran to where his wand indicated, pointed his wand downwards and yelled "Accio person!". Hermione, coughing and spluttering, burst from the snow and into his arms, bowling him over. Her eyes went wide.

"Harry!" She twisted around wildly. "Where are the others?"

Harry did not answer her but cast the spell again. "Homenum Revelio!"

There was another twitch and he ran to the place his wand had indicated. Behind him he heard Hermione following. Thrusting his wand down again, he yelled "Accio person!" and Ron was expelled from the snow. Knowing what to expect this time, Harry merely dodged him so Hermione could catch him, then repeated the process to find Ginny. A shriek and a thump behind him told him that Ron and Hermione had collided, and he put them both out of his mind. His wand twitched and he used the summoning charm.

From the snow burst an unconscious Ginny and he deftly caught her in his arms. Behind him he heard Hermione yell. "Harry! I don't have my wand!" Pointing his wand somewhere in between the three holes, he yelled "Accio wands!" and three wands came zooming out of the snow towards him. He tossed Hermione's to her and pocketed the other two. "Back to the cottage!" he shouted, and waited for Hermione's curt nod before Disapparating with Ginny.

Not caring if anyone saw them, he Apparated right at the front door of the cottage and unlocked the door with a curt "Alohamora" before carrying the still form of Ginny inside. Before he could lay her down on the couch he heard a "Crack" outside and knew that Hermione must have brought Ron. Unburdening himself of Ginny, he went to help Hermione carry Ron inside, only to walk into him as he floated ahead of Hermione. The tall redhead was shaking uncontrollably with cold, his eyes still closed. Suddenly scared, he ran back to check on Ginny. She felt as cold as Ron was, but she was not shivering.

"Hermione, shouldn't Ginny be shivering?" He heard the note of panic in his voice.

Hermione's sounded just as frail. "I think she's got hypothermia," she said. "We need to get them both warmed up fast, but not with a fire or anything else that's hotter than our normal body temperature." Harry frowned, but did not contradict her. She obviously knew what hypothermia was, and he did not.

"How do we go about it then?"

She started taking off her jacket as she spoke. "We put each of them in a sleeping bag in only their underwear, and we each get in with one of them, also in our underwear. I'll take Ginny, you take Ron." Halfway through fighting to get out of his warm clothes, Harry stopped.

"I am NOT getting into a sleeping bag with RON while we've got almost no clothes on. That's just sick! You take Ron, I'll take Ginny."

Hermione huffed and levitated Ron again.

"Where are you going with him?" Harry asked, confused. He had assumed that they would summon blankets from upstairs and transfigure them into sleeping bags.

"The couches are too small for two of us in a sleeping bag, and the floor is too hard. I'm taking him to one of the bedrooms. Lying in front of a fire would make it too hot anyway, and that'd hurt them."

Harry picked up Ginny rather than levitating her and carried her up the stairs. She still had her wet coat on. Seeing Hermione put Ron in the girls' bedroom, Harry carried Ginny to his own room and gently but firmly started taking her clothes off. When he had gotten her down to her underwear - a new experience for him, but one he did not waste time on now - he transfigured a blanket into a big, fluffy sleeping bag and zipped it up around them.

"Harry, is everything okay in there?" He heard Hermione's voice come through the open door of their bedrooms, together with the sounds of rustling fabric that told him she was still working on getting Ron's clothes off.

"Yeah, we're getting into the sleeping bag now."

"Okay, just share your body heat with her. She'll start shaking after a while, that's normal, it's just her body recognizing that it's not going to freeze. Just keep her warm. Ron's in better shape than Ginny, I think, so just yell if you need help, okay?"

He gave her a quick "Okay" and made sure the sleeping bag was snug around the two of them, pulling Ginny against him so that her head rested on his chest. She was cold against him, but he could feel the slow beating of her heart. As he felt the heat seeping out of him and into her cold form, he rubbed her back slowly. Then, after kissing the top of her head, he let himself drift in his own thoughts.

He was worried.

They had all survived so much during the war that he could not fathom them ever being in danger enough to die again. Had they not stood against Voldemort and all the Death Eaters and come out alive? How could some simple snow be a threat? Harry knew that life was fragile, but that did nothing to console him now. Ginny would be fine, of course. If Hermione had expected anything else, she would have said so. There was no real need to worry. After a time, he could not say how long, she twitched slightly in his arms. That startled him out of his reverie. After a few seconds she was shaking violently, her teeth clattering, her arms gripping as if her life depended on it.

"H-H-H-Har-r-r-ry?" He heard her ask against his chest. She did not raise her head.

"Yeah, I'm here."

"I'm-m s-s-s-o c-c-c-old..."

"You'll be warm soon, love. Just hold on to me. I'll make you warm."

She did not reply, but he held her protectively and rubbed her back slowly. She would be warm soon. They lay there for what seemed like hours, Ginny's teeth clattering and her whole body shivering, but the shivering dwindeled and finally stopped. Even then he held her without speaking. Somewhere during the time he had held her, she had become warmer than he was, and he felt some of the heat he had shared with her now flow back into him. Ginny yawned extravagantly, and he could not stifle a yawn of his own. When he was just about to drift off to sleep, enjoying the feel of her against him and finally convinced that really was fine, he heard her murmur something.

Wide awake again, he listened more carefully.

"I love your chest," she was murmuring sleepily. "It's nice. I've always loved your chest."

Harry ran a hand through her red mane. "You're not so bad yourself."

She jerked her head up, her whole body suddenly taut. "OH! Harry! Oh, Merlin! What are we doing half-naked in a sleeping bag together? I thought I was dreaming!" She looked absolutely mortified.

Harry did what he could to ease her mind. "You fell off a mountain and nearly froze in the snow. I had to get you warm again, that's all this is. Hermione's doing the same for Ron."

Her mortified look eased a bit, but she still looked uncertain. "All I remember is that she snow suddenly gave way under my feet, and then I was here, with you, nice and warm... So we didn't, um..."

Harry kissed her forehead. "If you look closely, you'll see that we both still have our underwear on. Besides, I was too busy worrying about getting you warmed up to be able to think of anything else. In fact," and at this he kissed her nose before continuing, "if you want to get out of this sleeping bag right now, I'll even turn around while you put your clothes on."

He had expected her to clamber off him and get dressed, but she did not. "I'll stay here for a while," she said. "You've seen me in my underwear now anyway, so we might as well enjoy it while it lasts."

At that, she snuggled back up to him, her head on his chest, her hand tracing small circles around his navel. In the silence that fell, there was a very faint creaking noise. When it came again, Ginny lifted her head. "What's that?" She whispered, straining to hear where it was coming from. Zipping open the sleeping bag, she crawled out and moved to the wall that joined the two bedrooms.

Harry, now robbed of her warmth, let his eyes roam freely over her as she stood in her underwear and made a mental picture. Then, remembering that he was a gentleman, he got up and stepped close to her, putting the sleeping bag around them both for warmth. Ginny had her ear pressed against the wall. "You're not going to believe this," she whispered, a wicked smile on her face. Against his better judgement, he pressed his own ear to the wall. Aside form the soft creaking noise, he now heard soft voices.

"'Mione, I'm never going to forgive you for taking advantage of me like this." Ron's voice groaned, but he did not sound displeased.

Hermione's voice, carrying a scarily playful note retorted: "Well, I might be wrong, Ronald, but you seem to be the one on top." She made a sound that could only be a moan of pleasure and Harry wrenched his head away from the wall.

They burst out in quiet laughter together, then dropped back on the bed and wrapped themselves in the sleeping bag once more.

"I don't think I want to listen to any more of that," Ginny whispered.

Harry grinned. "Well, looks like Hermione got what she wanted after all. Are you sorry you fell off that mountain yet?"

She wrapped herself around him and kissed him thorougly. They lay like that for a while, enjoying the privacy and the new sensation of being this intimate, then Ginny pushed Harry back against the bed. Giving him one last quick kiss, she slipped off the bed and started putting her clothes on.

"Come on," she said softly, "I feel like a hot chocolate and a fire." Grudgingly, Harry agreed, though he had to wait for her to leave the room before he dared leave the sleeping bag.

Harry and Ginny shared a couch, she leaning against his chest and both of them sipping warm chocolate while staring into the fire, when Ron and Hermione finally made it downstairs. They made a show of casually plopping down on the sofa, but Harry knew his friends well enough to spot the enormous grins that were trying to break free on both their faces.

"There's chocolate in the kitchen if you want. I figured I'd let you heat it when you came down." Ginny's voice was casual. Harry was impressed. Ron went to get the mugs and heat them without a word, then handed one to Hermione and sat back down. She leaned against him. After a while, Ginny spoke again, in that same casual tone. "So, about the sleeping arrangements..."

Hermione and Ron both spluttered as they gagged on their hot chocolate.

Back to index

---

Chapter 5: Plans

Harry frowned at the piece of parchment in front of him. He had been doing so for a while, ever since he had received it. In the eight years that he had spent as a wizard he had never given any thought to this, but with the N.E.W.T.'s approaching and the beginning of the rest of his life not far away, he had thought it prudent.

At his request, Bill Weasley (accompanied by, as he later found, a team of goblins) had entered his vault and made a tally of the funds stored within. Feeling rather dizzy he picked over the numbers one more time. Some of the leaflets he had been reading recently had given him some indications on what kind of earnings he could expect in the various lines of work available to him, and as he stared at the note in his hand he once again did the math.

Getting shakily to his feet he walked to his fireplace and, waving his wand, muttered the spell that opened the connection to the floo network. The Head Boy's fireplace was not normally connected to the floo network, but his had been connected at his request. Because of the risk of unwanted people appearing in his room, the fireplace had been warded so that he could lock and unlock it at will.

"Shell Cottage," he spoke after tossing some powder on the logs within. The fireplace erupted in green flames immediately. Harry got down on his knees and stuck his head in the fire. The sitting room at Shell Cottage came into view and he saw Bill and Fleur sitting on the couch. Both held books, but they looked up when he appeared.

"Hey Harry," Bill greeted him with a wave, "I thought we might hear from you. Did you get the list I owled you?"

Harry nodded shakily. "Hi guys, yeah, I got it. I was just wondering if you're sure these numbers are... I mean, is all this really in my vault?"

Bill laughed while Fleur looked puzzled. "'Ow much eez there in 'is vault then?" Then, looking at Harry, she complained: "Bill 'as not told me, 'e 'as zees wild notion of keeping your fortune a secret."

Harry nodded. "I can't blame him. It's more than I'd ever thought could be in there."

Bill looked thoughtful for a moment, then spoke. "Well, you do know that an Order of Merlin involves a financial prize as well as a medal, right? Then there's the donations you've received from people - mostly anonymous - who've wanted to thank you for getting us rid of You-Kow-Who."

Harry listened with rapt attention as Bill so casually dropped bags of galleons into his account. Why had he not heard about any of this?

"But the biggest loads that you've received came from your grandparents and Gringonts itself. You see, Gringots decided to reward you for getting the wizards out of the bank, and your grandparents had set up a trust fund for you that was deposited into your account when you came of age. I can imagine that you've not heard about that around your seventeenth birthday. The owl probably came the day after your birthday, and, well, we all know what happened at our wedding, right? All in all, you can count yourself among the richest wizards in the world."

Realizing that his mouth was still open, Harry forced himself to consider all this calmly. He had always known that he had a bit of money to his name, left to him by his parents. This was, however, so much money that he could not imagine how he could ever spend all of it in his own lifetime. Did he even want to possess this much? All his life he had been, if not poor, then at least not rich. Seeing that Bill and Fleur were waiting for him to say something, he decided to consider things further back in the comfort of his own room.

"Thanks Bill, I just wanted to know. I'm going to have to think about this for a while."

Bill nodded. "Why don't you pop over in a few weeks, when your N.E.W.T.'s have settled down a bit. I'm sure you have a lot of decisions to make." Harry thanked him and, after saying goodbye, soon found himself once again firmly on the carpet of his own room.

What DID it mean to him, that he could now buy or do whatever he wanted for himself? He could never work a day in his life, and still live richly without spending even a tenth of what he owned. The whole realization of that fact physically staggered him so that in stead of getting up, he ended up sitting down on the carpet. Endless possibilities stretched before him.

He could make the Potter family as grand and pompous as the Malfoys were. That stopped his train of thought dead of course, because who would ever want to be like the Malfoys? He could buy himself a manor, though, and plan a huge wedding for him and Ginny.

He had been looking at the carpet, but that thought snapped his head up. Had he just thought of asking Ginny to marry him? Their time together had always been spent in innocent enjoyment of each other, but they had never used the word "love" between them so far. Dumbledore had always said that the ability to love was a great and powerful force within Harry, but he had spoken of love in general.

Was he really in love with Ginny? He had no idea what love should feel like. If he wanted to ask her to marry him, he had beter be sure first. That's one subject he would need to talk to Hermione about, seeing as Ron would probably have a fit if he tried discussing feelings with him.

Harry blinked as he realized something. Ginny had never been wealthy. She had, in fact, always been rather poor. How would she react if she found out about his wealth? Did she love him? Would she find it good or bad that he suddenly turned out to be this rich? Would it chase her away, make her think that they were now suddenly in a different league? Fear gripped him, and he realized that he would prefer Ginny to a mountain of Galleons any day. Maybe he really was in love.

"It's me, Hermione." Harry waited for her to open the door, and after a short pause, the Head Girl's room opened to reveal Hermione.

"Oh, hi Harry," she said, "I'm not late, am I? I thought we were supposed to start in fifteen minutes." Harry frowned, but then he realized that he, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had planned a study session for Transfiguration.

He shook his head. "No, I'm here about something else. Could I talk to you for a minute?" She stepped back to let him in. Hermione's room was meticulously clean and tidy. He had been in there often enough, since their study sessions were often in either Harry's or Hermione's rooms, but it never ceased to amaze him how absolutely spotless she kept everything. His own room was tidy, of course, but at least it looked like someone actually lived there.

He took the chair from her desk, turned it to face the bed, and she sat down on the bed opposite him. "What's bothering you?" Harry opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. What was bothering him was, now that he thought about it, rather difficult to describe. His inner turmoil must have shown on his face, because Hermione frowned and put a hand on his knee. "Is everything alright, Harry?"

There was concern in her voice, and he quickly nodded. "Yeah, everything's fine, really. I just need a bit of help figuring something out. I know Ron wouldn't be able to help me with it, and I can't really go to Mr. or Mrs. Weasley about it, so I was hoping you could help me set my mind straight." Hermione nodded, but did not speak. Harry took a moment to decide how to begin. "Hermione, do you... love... Ron?"

Hermione looked taken aback by this question. "Wow," she said, after a moment of silence, "That's definitely not a question I was expecting." She blushed slightly. "But to answer it, yes, I do. I've not actually told him that yet, but I do. Is this about you and Ginny, by any chance?" Harry nodded. He knew he needed to elaborate a bit, but could not seem to form the words. Hermione smiled. "Do you love Ginny, Harry?"

Harry gave her a weak smile. "That's what I'm trying to find out, really. I'm just wondering how I can be sure."

She looked thoughtful for a few seconds, then asked: "What brought this about?"

He considered telling her about his conversation with Bill, and how his thoughts had strayed from there, but decided that he did not want her to know all the details just yet. He settled on the simplest explanation. "I was thinking about what might happen after we graduate from Hogwarts." There was a twinkle in Hermione's eyes now, but she stayed silent, and he thought he might need to elaborate on his explanation a bit. "I was just thinking about what our lives would look like after school, you know, and if I might marry Ginny. And then I wondered, if I was ever going to ask her, I'd want to do it because I love her, and I'm trying to discover what love should feel like."

Hermione still did not reply, so Harry kept talking. "I like her a lot, and we've really been together for almost a year now. I can even remember staring at her dot on the Marauders' map at night while I was keeping watch, you know, when we were hunting for the Horcruxes. I broke up with her after Dumbledore's funeral, but I never stopped caring for her. I mean, the whole reason I broke up with her was because I cared, so she wouldn't get hurt." He sighed. "I know I don't want to split up with her again. I've worried about that, and it makes me feel all hollow inside to think of her not being with me, you know?"

Realizing that he was staring at his shoes, Harry looked up. Hermione was smiling at him, though it was a rather secretive smile. "What?" he asked.

She just looked at him for a while. "Tell me, Harry," she said finally, still wearing that secretive little smile, "if you were me and I were you, and we were having this conversation the other way around, what would you have told me after hearing all of that?" He thought back for a moment. What exactly had he told her over the past few minutes? He had said that he cared about Ginny, that was for sure. He had also said that he would not want to split up with her again, and how it would make him feel if he had to...

Something clicked into place. "I'd tell you that you'd already figured out the answer yourself." He sighed as he said so, but felt a stupid grin manifest itself on his face.

Hermione positively beamed at him. "So, are you planning on telling her about this sometime in the near future?"

A few minutes later Harry entered the Gryffindor Common Room. He had left Hermione's room and gone back to his own to retrieve his books, but the note from Bill kept tugging on his mind. When he finally entered the Common Room for their study session, Hermione was already busy reviewing Transfiguration with Ron and Ginny.

"So," she was saying as he came in, "the most important part of the wand movement for the Vera Verto spell is the initial swish. The length of the swish determines a lot of the characteristics of the object that you're creating with... Oh, hi Harry! We were wondering when you'd get here." Harry felt himself nodding, then blushed slightly when she winked at him and continued: "Something troubling you?"

He nodded again, then decided it was now or never. "I'm fine, only I got a note from Bill. Ginny, can I talk to you for a second?"

Ginny had looked up from her studying when he came in, smiling at him, but she looked rather serious now. "Harry, are you feeling okay?" She got up and studied his face. "What did Bill say?"

Managing a shaky smile at her worried expression, he said: "Don't worry, it's nothing bad. I just got a bit of a shock. Let's talk in my room, okay? I won't keep you long."

Ignoring Ron's jest of: "Ah, is that what they call it these days, talk?" and Hermione's admonishion that they really did have to finish this subject tonight or fall behind, he lead her out of the portrait hole and into the corridor. Once there, he decided that this empty corridor was private enough. He stopped and turned around, only to find a worried frown on Ginny's face. "Are you sure you're okay? You look ghastly. It's like you've swallowed a puking pastille but don't have anything more to throw up."

That got him grinning in spite of himself. "You always say the most flattering things," he said, daring to give her a kiss.

"Well, at least you don't smell like you've been puking your guts out." She stated it flatly, but spoiled her worrysome demeanor by giving him a wink. "So, what's my brother up to then, that's gotten you so wound up?"

Harry's mind raced, but when nothing useful came up, he decided to just throw caution to the wind and see what came rolling out of his mouth. It turned out to be a question. "Ginny, you know I've got a bit of money to my name, right?" She nodded. "Would you still want to be with me if I was really poor?"

At that her eyes widened. "Of course I would, you big prat!" She punched him in the arm. "It's not like I'm used to riches you know, coming from, well, you know. So is that what's got you so shaken? Is your vault empty?"

He slowly shook his head, lowering his eyes to the floor for a moment. "So you'd want to be with me even if I was poor. How about if I were really rich?" At that, he allowed himself to study her face.

She looked thoughtful, unsure. "Well, that depends."

His heart sank, but he tried desperately to keep that from showing. "On what?"

She gave him a tight-lipped smile. "If you'd turn into Malfoy, no, I'd be gone in a heartbeat. But if you'd still be the Harry Potter I've liked forever, then yeah, I'd still want to be with you." Harry felt his heart give a pleasant lurch in his chest. She had just told him that, not only did she not care about how rich or poor he might be, she liked him for himself, and for nothing else. During this conversation he had realized something himself as well. He had never even considered what it would mean to him if Ginny had been richer or even poorer than she was. She herself was what attracted him to her, and he finally realized the answer to the question he asked himself earlier.

"Let's take a short walk, okay?" He offered her his hand and she accepted, taking it and holding on to it.

As they slowly ascended the steps of the Astronomy Tower, Harry decided that he wanted her to know the full meaning of his note from Bill. Looking ahead, he dropped the bomb. "Bill's note had a list of all the valuable things in my vault. I actually flooed him after I got it to see if he hadn't added something up wrong. There's... over ninety-four million Galleons in my vault."

Ginny lurched, missed a step, stumbled, caught hold of him with the hand that was not already in his and, finally, managed not to fall face first onto the stairs. She gaped at him. "Merlin! Harry, you could've warned me... I mean... Ninety..." She sat down on the stairs less than gracefully.

He joined her. "Yeah, that's about the same way I reacted when I got the note. Only I sat on my bed, not the floor."

Ginny gave a shaky laugh. "I'm sorry," she said, "I didn't mean to react that badly. It's just... That just goes beyond so far what I expected it's like comparing the Black Lake to the North Sea. I was actually more prepared to hear you say your vault was empty and you were broke. You caught me off balance a bit, that's all."

Harry put an arm around her. "Come on, we'll get some fresh air on top of the tower."

When he opened the door, Harry found the top of the tower empty. The night sky was clear as glass, the stars were bright, and the night air was warm for early spring. Off in the distance a faint red glow still lingered. They had just missed the sunset. Somehow that made him feel as if the moment was just that little bit less than perfect. Ginny stepped onto the tower and put her arms around his waist, her head coming to rest against his right shoulder.

The simple touch felt wonderful. It warmed him, making him feel more wanted than he had ever felt before they had started going out. Her wonderful, flowery smell surrounded him. All those beautiful, small things that made him feel so incredible, she seemed to do without considering the effect she had on him. He could hold her forever and never get tired of her. If only he could put all that in words somehow.

She startled him out of his reverie by whispering into his ear. "Something wrong?" He turned around, cupped her face with one hand and put his other around her waist.

"No," he said truthfully, "everything's just fine." He kissed her ever so gently, then looked her in the eyes. He wanted to do this right, wanted everything to be perfect. "Gin, I..." Not even the tactic of letting everything tumble out of his mouth worked to make the words come. She looked at him with the most curious look on her face, one he had not seen before, a mixture of curiosity, expectancy and something else he could not put his finger on.

After a few moments of silence he felt her hand brush his cheek. "What's gotten into you all of a sudden, Harry? I haven't seen you this serious since Voldemort." A smile came unbidden to his face, and with it came the words.

"Ginny... I love you." He surprised himself by how well the words came out, and even more by the sudden knowledge of how true they were. A look of surprise and shock ran over Ginny's face, and she twitched slightly in his arms. Silence stretched between them until, just when Harry thought she was not going to say anything, that this had been a mistake, that he should not have told her this now, that it was too soon in their relationship for this, that she would not feel the same, might even think him stupid, she made a soft sound.

"Oh," she breathed, slowly, the tone in her voice more one of surprise than anything else. He waited. "Oh Harry, I didn't... I couldn't..." She spun around, turning her back on him, and for a moment he thought she was going to run away, but she just stood there. Of all the reactions she could have given, Harry had not expected anything remotely like this. Ginny was always strong, composed, fierce, but now she seemed almost fragile. What was he to do? What did it mean?

"I'm sorry," she said in a small voice, and Harry thought his heart would sink through the roof of the tower, but then she continued: "I just... I just never thought I'd actually hear you say that." She turned around and dazzled him with the most radiant smile she had ever given him. She saw the expression on his face and her smile faltered. "Oh! No, Harry, no, really, I... You thought I didn't... Ooh, I'm doing this all wrong!" Slowly, almost shyly, Ginny reached out to touch his face again. She took a deep breath. "Harry, I love you, too."

The almost whispered words were like a soothing balm. "You do?" He heard how stupid he sounded and found that he did not care, and she just laughed her beautiful, innocent laugh and nodded.

"Yeah, I do. I just never realized that you could feel that deeply about me too. I never expected you to tell me... I've never heard you say those words to anyone." She gazed up at him with those dark eyes, capturing his own.

"You're the first person I've ever said them to," he confessed, suddenly feeling vulnerable. "I was really scared that you'd think I was stupid, or that I'd ruin things between us by telling you how I feel about you." She kissed him then, a long, lingering kiss, and he kissed her back, losing himself in the sensation of her. When she finally broke the kiss it was a while before either of them spoke again.

"I've got a confession to make, Harry," She finally murmured. "Don't get angry with me, okay?"

Harry snorted. "I'm too happy to get angry about anything right now. Do your worst."

She had her head pressed to his chest in the soft hug that they shared, and her voice was slightly muffled by the fabric of his sweater. "I always expected that you'd get tired of me after a while. You know, that we'd split up when we leave school, or that you'd find someone better. Maybe even that you'd go after Cho again. I never really dared to hope that we'd go on together after school. I mean, don't get me wrong, I want to be with you. I just thought we wouldn't develop... Love, you know?"

Harry considered her words, one hand playing with her hair, one at her back. He had thought exactly the same things she had, he realized. He had expected her to get over her fancy for him, that she'd decide she wanted to see other people when they finally finished Hogwarts, or that she'd want to go off on some career thing that would carry her far away from him. She had just told him that she really did want to be with him.

"I had some of the same thoughts about you," he confessed in turn. She raised her head to meet his eyes. "You know," he continued, "that you'd get over your fancy of me. I was scared half senseless telling you I loved you just now. I'm glad I did though."

Ginny just stood looking up at him for a while, a wide smile on her face, before she finally broke their silence. "So, where do we go from here then?"

He picked her up suddenly, cradling her in his arms, and started carrying her back down the stairs. "To the Common Room," he said, "so we can finish studying." He paused for a short time, as they descended the stairs, feeling serious again. "Ginny, I know I'm rich, but I want to do something, you know, find a job I like and build a career. What do you want to do?"

She kissed the side of his neck before speaking. "I want to be proud of what I do, so I want to find a job and have a career too. And later maybe a few kids." He glanced at her and she blushed. "I'd want kids too," he said. "Maybe not seven though." They were still laughing when they entered the Common Room.

The week that followed went by in a blur. Preparations for the N.E.W.T.'s were all the seventh year students could afford to think about, and in the light of the stresses of studying, Harry decided to put the matter of his riches out of his head until the dreaded tests were over. When Professor McGonagall handed out the exam schedules to the anxious seventh years, the atmosphere in the Gryffindor Common Room took a dive.

Harry had never really noticed the behavious of the seventh year students before at this time of the year. Noticing it now, he wondered if it had been mainly because he had somehow always been in the middle of some kind of horrific struggle for his life or the future of the Wizarding world. Everyone in his year, with no real exceptions, had begun behaving as though dementors were stalking Gryffindor Tower. The temperature, though it seemed to be mild enough outside, seemed chilly enough in the Common Room to make his breath mist if he tried hard enough, and frayed nerves made people snap at every little interruption as if all the happiness had dissipated from the castle.

Ginny had taken her leave of him for a while, taking to studying in the library and saying that she needed a bit of quiet sollitude to absorb as much information as she could. He had not faulted her for it, but missed her company at the Common Room study table while he revised with Ron and Hermione. Having always had each other as study partners, the three made good progress, even Ron keeping up with the brutal pace Hermione was setting them to revise every little spell and piece of information they had studied over their years at Hogwarts.

Soon it was the weekend before the N.E.W.T.'s were due to start, and on friday night, Harry decided that he would not study any more before the time came to take the tests. He was prepared as well as he could ever hope to be, and any more stress he heaped on himself now would only make him less well rested. He was unsusprised to find that he was the only seventh year to have come to this decision, and decided to leave everyone else alone until they finished their studying.

Back in the comfort of his own room, Harry lay down on his bed and allowed his mind to drift. He did not feel like reading a book or going for a walk, just the comfort of being alone with his own thoughts on his own soft bed was exactly what he needed right then. He had put off thinking about everything outside of the N.E.W.T.'s for these past few weeks in favour of studying. What was it he really wanted to think about?

He missed Ginny, of course. It was not as if they had not seen each other at all during the weeks of studying, but they had had to keep their time together short so that they would not be too distracted from studying. Mostly, they had met in the Common Room in the evenings, each too exhausted from absorbing information all day to be of much comfort to the other. He hoped that she would also decide to spend some time not studying this weekend, but was determined not to push her into doing something she did not feel comfortable doing.

Comfortable.

Ginny was a comfort to him even without constantly being around him. He loved her, of course. He had finally allowed himself to completely believe that only a few short weeks before, but he knew it now as completely as if he had never had any doubts at all. Now all he had to do was decide what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

He had read through every flyer and leaflet that had been provided to him, as well as several letters containing job offers, but he had still not decided what his career path would be after Hogwarts. For a moment, he considered just taking a year off and traveling. Was there a reason why he could not do just that, escape from the Wizarding world of Great Britain for a while to discover what else the world had to offer?

Would Ginny want to come along?

He felt a soft, tingly sensation somewhere near his stomach at that thought. They could go together, on a trip around the world, just the two of them. Would that not be a great way to spend the year after Hogwarts? Then again, maybe Ron and Hermione would want to come along as well.

Frowning, he sat up. Would he want the four of them to go on a long trip around the world together? Was it selfish of him to think that he might want to do this with only Ginny, if she wanted to come? The three of them had been through so much together that it felt treasonous somehow to think these things, as if he was betraying his friends by thinking that he might not take them along.

A soft knock on the door brought him out of his reverie. He got up, crossed to the door, and opened it to reveal Ginny. Instantly, the weight that had pressed on his heart a few moments earlier lifted as she gave him one of her radiant smiles, and he could not help but give into the impulse to grab her and kiss her right there. She gave a surprised squeak at the fervor he put into the kiss, smiling against his lips as he crushed her to him until the sound of Ron clearing his throat nearby made him pull back.

"What was that for?" Ginny sounded happy, but up close he noticed that she looked rather tired, as did Ron and Hermione. Harry just looked at her for a minute, trying to decide what to say.

"Nothing," he finally murmered, smiling. "I just love you, that's all." That brought a slight blush to her face, and he realized that he had not said that to her with other people present before. Well, the world might as well know, and it's not as if Ron and Hermione were strangers to his feelings for Ginny. One arm still around his neck where she had slung it when he had grabbed her, she stroked his cheek with her free hand.

"I love you, too," she said slowly, softly, and he felt a very pleasant shiver pass down his back. Then after a short pause, she continued: "We were thinking of heading to the Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer, just to celebrate the last weekend before the N.E.W.T.'s. Do you want to come?"

Deciding on the spot that a bit of company would be preferable to brooding tonight, Harry nodded. Grabbing his traveling cloak from the peg beside the door, he closed and locked the door behind him, put an arm around his girlfriend once more, and the four of them headed off down the stairs.

As they neared the village of Hogsmeade, they soon noticed that a lot of students were out, many of whom were not of age. This struck Harry as odd, underage students usually not being allowed to be out of the castle grounds in the evening, until he remembered that there would be a fair in town this weekend. Third year students and above were allowed to go into the village, though the younger students were not allowed to stay out until very late.

Pleasant music soon began drifting towards them as they neared the village, and the colourful lights and noise of the magical shops and stalls that now decorated the village became more apparent, and they walked on until they finally found themselves in the middle of the fair.

Everywhere around them were stalls selling food, drinks, books, magical trinkets and even strange and exotic pets. They were soon engrossed in the tale one pet seller was telling about his animals. They resembled tiny ostriches, but they came in a large variation of pastel colours and sported large colourful feathers on their heads.

Giving Ginny a quick peck on the cheek, Harry left the three of them by that stall to get them all a bottle of butterbeer. Scanning around for the drinks stall he had seen earlier, he noticed Cho Chang standing behind a stall that contained a large selection of jewelry and, glancing back to see his friends and Ginny still actively engaging the man with the ostriches in conversation, walked towards her.

"Hi Harry," Cho said, smiling widely at him as he approached. "The fair's really a success, isn't it? We hadn't expected this many students to be out and about today." He grinned back at her.

"Hi Cho," he said, "It looks like everyone's having fun. Must be because this is the first carefree year we've had at Hogwarts for, oh, eight years?" She smiled at him, a shy and lovely smile that would have had him stuttering but a few short years ago. "So, you're in the jewelry business now then?"

Cho nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I'm still an apprentice though. I guess that's a good thing, I mean, I can come here and sell jewelry and everything. The master jewelcrafters aren't here, they're too busy at the shop in Diagon Alley." She waved a hand around her stall, indicating most of her wares. "These were all made by the masters. These," and now she was pointing at a small corner that contained a few rings and pendants, "are mine. This is the first time that I'm allowed to sell my own work, everything we apprentices make in our first year is usually given away."

Harry walked over to the small corner that held Cho's work, and was surprised by how different the styling of the pieces there was from the pieces made by the masters. The rings were simpler, beautifully decorated, but not as pompous or overdone as most of the rings in the rest of the stall were. He decided that he rather liked Cho's work better, and said so before he could stop himself. Cho blushed furiously.

"Thank you," she said, rather timidly. Then she grinned at him in a conspiratorial way. "Don't tell any of the masters this, but I think their work is a bit, um..."

"Over the top?" Harry injected, and Cho nodded again. "I agree. May I?" He indicated a ring, and picked it up when she nodded. He examined it closely. It was the most beautiful ring he had ever seen, and even as he held it close to his eyes to look at it in more detail, he understood why. It was a simple band of pale gold, inlaid with tiny, fiery rubies along the whole length of it, and sporting a sparkling green emerald that was the exact width of the ring itself. The emerald was inlaid in the ring itself rather than set on top of it, and as Harry ran a finger along it he found that it connected with the gold almost seamlessly. Looking up, he saw Cho looking at him with a strange expression on her face. She almost looked sad.

"In another life," she said, her voice almost far away, "I would have wanted you to buy me that ring. I made it with you in mind. Originally, I thought of using onyx for the band, instead of the rubies. It just didn't work as well as I expected it." He thought he saw her eyes dart over his shoulder and back, and he realized that she had glanced at Ginny in the distance. "We don't even go together well in jewelry. I guess I'm stupid to still think about these things, but I just wonder, you know, what might have been."

Harry did not know what to reply. Was she saying that she was still in love with him? When he stayed quiet for a few seconds, Cho seemed to realize what she had just said and gave a guilty start.

"Oh! I didn't mean to say that out loud. I'm so sorry Harry, I..." She sounded rather panicked and her voice trailed off, her hand having gone to her mouth as if to stop it from babbling.

"It's okay, Cho." Harry said, softly, suddenly unable to keep looking at her. "It's okay. I actually think it's sweet of you to make a ring with me in mind. It's just..." At this, he forced himself to look her in the eye. "I'd like to be your friend, Cho. I think we both know where my heart is." She nodded slowly, that sad expression reappearing on her face.

"You like it, then?" She indicated the ring.

"I love it." He meant every word. "How much do you want for it?" She gave him a smile.

"Consider it a gift from a friend, and a reminder to whoever gets to wear it," and she glanced over his shoulder again, "to make you happy. If she doesn't, you know where to find me."

Had she phrased it any other way, Harry would have been able to say no, or to press her to accept payment. She had, however, put such meaning into her words that he understood what it meant to her to give him this gift.

"Thank you," he said, hoping that his voice would betray the meaning he felt. She took the ring from him and pulled out her wand, pointing it to the inside of the band and muttering an incantation, the ring very close to her eyes as she moved her wand around in a very precise manner. After a short while, she pocketed her wand again and held out the ring. He took it and read the tiny inscription that now adorned the inside of the ring.

"With you, I am free. Without you, I am lost. Be mine forever."

He looked up in shock. She gave him a tiny smile.

"I used your touch on the ring to determine what meaning you wanted to give to it," she explained. He could only stare at her in amazement. Her expression turned uncertain. "Did I get it wrong? Do you want me to change it?" She started to pull her wand out of her pocket.

"No!" He said it louder than he had wanted to. "It's just sort of, you know, a bit of a shock to see it in writing like that." Harry heard the hitch in his voice and made a conscious effort to talk normally. "I guess this makes it an engagement ring. It's... It's absolutely perfect. Please, leave it the way it is."

She took the ring and put it in a tiny box, expertly wrapping a ribbon around it that was, Harry noticed, the exact shade of red of the rubies in the ring. When she looked up and handed him the box, he noticed a tear on her cheek. She hastily wiped it off.

"I'd promised myself I wouldn't cry so much anymore." Cho smiled as she said it. "See you around?"

"I'll owl you soon, to let you know how it's received, okay? Let's have lunch sometime when school's finally over, okay?" Harry glanced at Ginny as he pocketed the box with the ring. She was still busy at the stall with the pets. "Cho, you have no idea what this means to me."

"Yes I do, Harry. Trust me." Another tear made its way slowly down her cheek, and this time she made no effort to stop it.

They said goodbye and Harry made his way to the drinks stall, quickly gathering up four butterbeers and heading back to the ostrich stand. The box with the ring sat securely in the chest pocket of his robe and he felt it press against his chest as he juggled the butterbeers, handing Ron, Hermione and Ginny one each. When they were walking around the fair to look at the rest of the stalls, Hermione took the opportunity to talk to Harry alone when Ron and Ginny were bent over a stall to examine broom attachments.

"So, what did you just buy from Cho?" She had bent close to him and spoke softly, but Harry almost spit out a mouthful of butterbeer anyway, quickly glancing at Ginny to see if she had noticed anything. Hermione beamed at him. "So it's a gift for Ginny then?"

Harry shook his head, and Hermione's brow furrowed. Sensing her bewilderment, he grinned at her and pulled her away from Ron and Ginny a few more paces to make sure they were not overheard.

"Cho made me a special ring for Ginny." Harry kept one eye on the backs of Ron and Ginny. Hermione's mouth dropped open. "And to answer the next question you're going to ask, yes, it's that kind of special ring. I just need to, um, find the right moment to..." Ron and Ginny began to turn away from the broom attachments and he stopped speaking abruptly. "I'll tell you later, okay?"

For the next few hours the four of them happily browsed the stalls and ate and drank their fill of the exotic foods that were offered. Harry had to press the people at the stalls to be allowed to pay for whatever he tried to buy, because they seemed determined to give the Boy-Who-Defeated-Voldemort everything for free. Neville, they learned when they ran into him, had the same problem.

The main square of Hogsmeade had been decorated with a podium and a dance floor, and on the podium was a large orchestra that played merry tunes. The dance floor was seeing enough use as, villagers, teachers and students alike, a large number of couples was dancing happily to the tunes played by the orchestra.

When they decided to sit down and have a rest before heading back to the castle, they noticed Dean and Luna sitting at one of the tables that had been set out around the dance floor. Ginny poked Harry softly in the ribs and pointed at the two of them. They seemed to be holding hands under the table and, Harry noticed with a grin, Luna was smiling at Dean in a very intimate way.

"Looks like he finally worked up the nerve to ask her out," Ginny said, softly enough that her voice only carried to Ron, Hermione and Harry. Hermione's eyes darted to Harry and she gave him one of her knowing smiles. Ginny frowned at her. "What am I missing?"

"Missing?" Hermione's voice was higher than normal, and she looked unable to control the smile that grew explosively on her face. "I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about." Ron's eyes darted from his sister to Hermione and back, then to Harry, and Harry saw his bewildered expression change to one of wonder. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. Why could Hermione not just keep her stupid knowing smiles to herself?

Ginny looked suspicious and on the verge of subjecting Hermione to a thorough questioning, but Ron intervened.

"Come on love, let's dance." He gave her no chance to reply, but dragged Hermione along and onto the dancefloor, leaving Harry and Ginny staring after them. Ginny rounded on him, but the outburst he feared did not come. She glanced over his shoulder at the moment that a light touch on his back alerted him to someone's presence behind him.

"Hello Harry! Hi Ginny!" Luna's voice was dreamy as always, but it had a very cheerful quality to it. "Are you going to dance, too? Dean just asked me to dance. Nobody's ever asked me to dance before." She glanced around towards Dean, who was waiting for her a few paces ahead, then she lowered her voice and gave them a secretive smile. "I think Dean's going to kiss me tonight. I hope he does. It'd be such a shame if he put it off again."

Ginny burst out laughing and gave her friend a fond hug. Harry winked at Dean, and while the girls were not looking at him, mouthed the words "kiss her soon" to him. Dean's eyes widened, but then his face broke into a grin and he winked at Harry. Luna finally followed him onto the dance floor, and Ginny turned back to Harry. He thought fast.

"D'you want to dance?" It was the first thing he could think to say, and it stopped her in her tracks. She nodded, then followed him onto the dance floor. Just then, the orchestra finished the fast tune it had been playing and started a slower song.

Ginny put her arms around his neck and they danced slowly.

"I'm sorry I haven't been much company lately," he muttered, thoroughly enjoying the intimate time they were spending together. She smiled up at him.

"I haven't been much of a girlfriend to you either." She ran her fingers down his cheek again. "Forgive each other?"

"Deal." He grinned at her as they danced. "I'm happier than you know that we're out here tonight."

"I'm pretty happy myself." She pressed her head against his chest. "I'm a bit curious though, about what Hermione's hiding from me."

Just then, she shifted her head a bit and touched the tiny box in his front pocket with her cheek. Harry froze. She pulled back a bit to look at the lump in his robe that she had just touched, then trailed one arm down his neck until it rested on the box. She looked up.

"What's in your pocket?"

It was the question he had been dreading. He wanted to do this right, and especially not now, not in the middle of a dance floor. He wanted her to be able to say no, if she did not want this yet. If he asked her here and now, she would feel pressured. He also did not want to lie to her and tell her it was something unimportant. That would insult both Cho's gift and the meaning he placed in this ring.

"Can I tell you somewhere more private?"

The curious frown she gave him was, he thought, rather cute. She finally nodded and let herself be led off the dance floor. They walked for a bit until they reached a spot that Harry could not have picked out more perfectly if it had been placed there for him. Not far from the square, near the edge of the woods, stood a small gazebo. It was much quieter there, and though it could be seen from the square itself, it felt very secluded.

As they reached it, soft lights began to glow in a number of lanterns that hung inside the small wooden structure. Looking around and drinking in the atmosphere, Harry decided that this might just be the most romantic place he had ever seen. He wondered briefly why he had never noticed it there before, but was soon distracted when Ginny turned from staring around the gazebo to look at him again. He put his hand in his pocket and withdrew the box, keeping it hidden in his hand.

"Are you sure you want to know what I have in my hand?" Harry felt more than heard his voice shake a little and silently cursed himself for being a nervous prat. Ginny, however, looked expectantly at him, her eyes full of wonder. He felt half his nerves leave him. She knew, he realized. She stood there, realizing what he was about to ask her, what he was about to show her, and she did not tell him not to. He slowly raised his hand and opened it, presenting her with the box.

"This was made by a very talented jewelcrafter we both know." He said it slowly, watching Ginny's eyes widen slightly as they touched upon the box. The ribbon on it was, he decided, the same colour as her hair. "Maybe you should open it before I go on."

Ginny took the box, as slowly as he had raised his hand, and briefly touched the red ribbon before she untied it. Her hands were shaking slightly, but she managed not to fumble with the knot. When she opened the box, she gasped, raising her free hand to her mouth. Her eyes shot back to him, full of questions.

"Can you read the inscription?"

She looked back at the ring, moving it close enough to her face to read tiny lettering on the inside of the band. He saw her mouthing the words, then her eyes danced back up to his, and they did not leave his as he slowly lowered himself to one knee.

"Ginevra Weasley," he said, taking her free hand in his own, "will you marry me?"

He had expected her to hesitate, maybe even to tell him that she needed some time to think about this. He had dreaded that she might say no outright, say that she was not ready for this, or even think that it might be a joke of some kind and laugh. He was not prepared for her to answer straight away, a single word in a voice that came out in a voice that was as choked with emotion as he had ever heard it.

"Yes!"

For once, Ginny did not appear to mind the tear that tracked down her cheek. He got up slowly, not trusting his legs to keep him up if he went too fast. He felt too many things at once. Shock at hearing her say yes warred with a sense of overwhelming joy that she had accepted his proposal so readily. The blood pounding in his ears did not help, but he managed to take the box with the ring from her without dropping it.

Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he slipped it around her finger. A million different emotions flickered across her face, too fast to read, but all of them shades of joy, wonder, happiness. He kissed her then, and it was a long time before they finally walked back to the square.

Ron and Hermione were still dancing, but they stopped when they saw Harry and Ginny walking towards them and met them a little way off the dance floor. Ron looked from Harry to the still slightly teary expression on Ginny's face, then back to Harry. He looked suspicious.

"Why has my sister been crying, Harry?" Harry felt taken aback by the menacing growl that was Ron's voice, but before he could respond, Ginny stepped forward and gave her brother and Hermione an enormously wide beaming smile. Without saying anything, she showed them the ring. Ron's mouth opened slightly, but Hermione beamed back at her.

"Harry just asked me to marry him!" Ginny's extremely excited voice carried further than she might have intended it to, and people around them turned to stare at her. "And I said yes!"

Ron grabbed his sister and gave her a hug, all the while grinning at Harry.

"Sorry mate," he said, "I thought you might have dumped her again or something. She hardly ever cries, my little sister."

"If I ever decided to dump her again," Harry said, "I'd expect you to pound me soundly for it. Now give me back my fiancee."

Hermione, however, also wanted to hug Ginny, and then Harry, and then the both of them, and before they could do anything else, half of Gryffindor house materialized next to them to offer their congratulations. In the end, however, Harry and Ginny managed to shake off everyone and walk slowly back to the castle together, hand in hand.

"So, we're engaged now." Ginny's soft words came after a few minutes of comfortable silence. "When do you want to have the wedding?"

"I was thinking," Harry replied, "that we might do it during the summer holidays, after this school year ends. Or do you think that's too soon?"

Ginny had been smiling broadly for most of the time since he had asked her that evening, but as they were walking her smile had become more private, more intimate. She turned that smile on him now.

"No, I don't think it's too soon. I thought you might think so though. Wouldn't you want to get a job, or something like that first?" Her smile turned a bit more sly. "I mean, Bill and Fleur didn't waste much time after they were married, did they? Look at the size of Fleur now."

Harry remembered the last time he had seen Fleur, and he knew the baby was due any day now.

"Is that what you want then, to have children right after we're married?" He took care to keep his voice light and curious as possible, even though he felt rather scared that she might actually want to have children this young in life. He knew he was not ready for that just yet. Teddy was great, but he found it a reassuring thought to know that he could bring Teddy back to Andromeda whenever he did not have time for the boy. Ginny's sly smile turned into a soft grin.

"No, that would definitely be too soon. I want to see a bit of the world before I commit to that." She stopped walking and slung her arms around his neck again. "Why, would you have gotten me pregnant right after we were married if I'd said yes just now?"

Harry chuckled, but could not help thinking that she had just given him an opening for something else he had been meaning to discuss with her.

"Well, I think we're too young to have kids of our own just yet." He said it, and then allowed his face to take on a bit more seriousness. "About seeing the world though..." She looked at him expectantly, so he went on. "Would you like to, um, have a very long honeymoon? Like maybe a year, traveling around the world? Just the two of us?"

She smiled that private smile up at him again. The closeness made him feel that tingly feeling around his stomach again, and he brushed his thumb slowly along the line of her neck. Inwardly, she seemed to be considering something. When she finally spoke, he was surprised.

"Wouldn't you rather travel around the world with Ron and Hermione too? The four of us, I mean?"

He chuckled, not meaning to, but she did not seem offended.

"Who brings their best friends on their honeymoon?" He said it, still smiling, then swallowed and sobered a bit. "Actually I'm just not sure that I want to go on another long trip with Ron and Hermione. It'd probably start to feel crowded after a while, and I'd really like to have a lot of chances to be intimate with you without Ron there to pound me for it."

"Ron's not so bad." She spoke softly now, and he suddenly found himself considering that she might have given this a bit more thought than he had suspected. "Besides, we don't have to make that trip around the world our honeymoon. Why don't we go on our honeymoon first, and then take a trip around the world with Ron and Hermione? If we get separate rooms at every inn we stay in, it shouldn't get too bad."

"You've been thinking about this too, haven't you?" Harry did not keep the admiration he felt out of his voice. She nodded. "I think you've got a good idea there. Are you sure you want to do it with the four of us? I mean, don't say yes because you think it's what I want to hear."

"Hermione's my best friend too, you know." Ginny turned a bit more serious. "I just think that it'd feel weird not to take them along. We do everything together anyway, and I almost feel lonely when they're not around."

"You," Harry said, giving her a kiss on the tip of her nose and smiling when she wrinkled it at him in response, "are the most amazing woman in the world. I can't imagine why you'd want to marry me."

They finally reached the castle well after curfew and found professor McGonagall waiting just inside the entrance hall. Her tartan dressing gown was, Harry mused, still one of the most interesting pieces of clothing he had ever seen in the Wizarding world, though not in a good sense.

"Potter! Weasley!" Her stern gaze raked over them both, but Harry was not convinced. Her eyes simply twinkled a bit too happily. "Not only have you been out of the castle well after curfew, but I have also heard some rather disturbing rumours about you from several of the students who have been out in Hogsmeade this evening. What do you have to say for yourselves?"

Ginny held out the hand with the ring. Professor McGonagall attempted to look stern for only a moment longer, then she let the mask slip and smiled at them.

"Well, congratulations to the both of you. I hope you find the happiness you deserve." She winked at them in a very uncharacteristic way. "Now get to your beds before Mr. Filch finds you."

The very next day, Harry took a moment to pen a letter to Cho. He took great care to describe how happy her gift had made him and Ginny, and how grateful he was. On sunday, he received an owl back from her telling him that she was glad things had worked out so well, and that he was welcome to stop by the shop in Diagon Alley any time if he felt like having lunch or just chatting. It was the last line that made him smile.

"P.S. I hope you didn't think my gazebo was 'over the top'."

Back to index

---

Chapter 6: The Talk

"Everyone stick together! Lavender! Get back here!"

Harry's voice felt rough from shouting orders at his classmates, but he felt exhilarated and alive. Just as he glanced around a heavy body thudded into him. He felt rather than saw the bolt of energy from the spell that had passed through the space where he had just stood. Around him, three separate voices shouted various protective spells.

"Stay awake mate," Ron said as he got up. "You don't want to miss out on another Outstanding, do you?"

The judges were seated in a neat row along one wall of the Great Hall, protected by professors McGonagall, Flitwick and Dawlish. Along the other wall, all Harry's fellow seventh year students stood watching. The applause Ron received at having saved Harry from a curse told Harry that it must have looked spectacular. Not wanting to be outdone by his best friend, he trained his wand on the advancing attackers.

For the purpose of the Defense Against the Dark Arts N.E.W.T. exam, the Great Hall had undergone a rather spectacular transformation. Gone were the house tables, as well as anything that was remotely precious. The center of the Great Hall now resembled a ruined bunker, in which groups of students were required to defend themselves for as long as possible against a group of trained Aurors.

Though the Aurors were required to use only those curses and jinxes that would not bring actual harm to the students, marks were taken for each curse that hit a student. So far, the students in Harry's group had yet to lose their first point.

"Seamus, Lavender, keep the shield charms up. Ron, Hermione, get down here."

Huddled together behind the stone wall, the three friends put their heads together.

"Alright, let's see if we can turn this battle to our advantage." Harry grinned as he saw the flush of excitement on Hermione's face. "Like we discussed, okay?" He turned to Seamus and Lavender. "Guys, try to keep their attention, okay? We're going on the offensive."

Lavender and Seamus both nodded, not taking their eyes off the Aurors. Harry felt a spark of pride.

"Get ready." Seamus had growled it softly so as not to alert the Aurors, while he renewed a shield charm that had collapsed under the weight of the offensive spells. "Lavender, now!" Instantly the two students began firing stunning spells at the Aurors, rather than maintaining their shields. Though they failed to score any direct hits, the Aurors were surprised enough by the change of tactics to momentarily shift their focus to defensive magic.

"NOW!" Harry bellowed, followed by "Expecto Patronum! Lumos Horribilis!"

The silver stag erupted from his wand and charged at the Aurors, followed by an even more brilliant flash of light. Momentarily surprised and blinded by the light emitted by the patronus, several of the Aurors turned to face it and erected shield charms between them and it. Seeing that the ruse had worked, Ron and Hermione shouted simultaneously.

"Necto Defigo!"

"Occumbo!"

A pulse of energy burst from Hermione's wand, which solidified into several transparent nets of power. Of the nine Aurors still standing, one having been knocked out by Lavender's stunning spell while he was distracted by Harry's stag, seven were engulfed by nets. An instant later, Ron's blast wave hit, sending all but one of the Aurors flying backwards. Seamus pointed his wand at the only unbound Auror laying on the floor, and ropes burst from the tip of his wand, binding the Auror securely.

His wand still pointing at the only Auror to remain standing, Harry stepped out of the bunker. The stag cantered a short way away, then dissolved.

"Yield." He spoke calmly, though his insides jumped nervously. If the man chose to duel him rather than give up, this could still turn out badly for his team of students. "Don't make us hurt you."

The man still had his wand raised, but it was quivering slightly. His eyes darted between Harry and the other students. Watching closely, Harry recognized the moment in which the Auror came to a decision. In a real combat situation, the man might have laid down his wand, but Harry understood that they had been instructed not to surrender.

"Protego!"

The shield charm expanded between the bunker and the Auror, deflecting the silent stunning spell that burst from the man's wand. From behind him he heard four voices bellowing four different spells. The man's eyes widened as four different colours of light hurtled towards him. Harry winced inwardly, expecting some of what was about to happen.

As the Auror's wand flew from his hand, the man was hurtled backwards. He made a noise, but though the sound had started out as a human scream, it changed strangely into a loud, panicked squeal. What hit the floor a second later closely resembled a moving lump in a bundle of robes.

For a few seconds everyone was silent as the bundle of robes stirred feebly.

Something poked it's snout out of the folds of the Auror's robe. It closely resembled a pig, but as the gathered crowd laughed loudly, it ran free of the robe entirely and proved itself to be quite something else. The front part was, in fact, a pig, but the back part more resembled a kind of large fish, it's tail slithering uselessly as the beast pulled itself forward on it's front legs.

Turning around he caught Seamus and Hermione grinning at each other. Ron held the Auror's wand, and Harry was left to wonder which of his friends had chosen to transfigure the poor man into a pig, and which had chosen a fish.

As the head of the judges declared the exam to be over, a loud and raucous applause went up among the waiting seventh years. Harry's group had been the last team to face the Aurors, and all students who had already taken their exams had been allowed to watch. None of the other teams had managed to completely disable the Aurors, though some of them had managed to do as much damage as they had taken.

A streak of red burst from the now advancing crowd of students and he opened his arms to catch Ginny as she jumped on him, wrapping her arms and legs around him and almost knocking him clear off his feet.

"Harry, you were brilliant!" Ginny squealed loudly after kissing him quite thoroughly. "I loved the way you tried to get that last one to just surrender."

"Well, I wish they'd let me watch you taking your exam too," Harry managed to mutter between more kisses. "How many did you take down before they got you?"

Ginny grinned at him and he understood that she appreciated his confidence in her abilities.

"I stunned two and I managed to blast another one all the way over to the doors," she said, waving her hand vaguely in the direction of the other side of the Great Hall, "but then one of them got me with a stunning spell. It was a close call though, Luna was the last one standing and she got four of them before they got her."

"Luna? Wow, that's unexpected." Harry grinned at Ginny, then gave her another quick kiss. "I'm proud of you. Bet you get an Outstanding for dropping three trained Aurors."

After shaking hands with almost every other student in the hall, as well as the three professors and the judges, the trio and Ginny managed to extract themselves from the Great Hall and headed out into the grounds. When they reached the grass, Ron toppled over and lay on his back, his limbs spread as wide as they would go.

"I can't believe it's completely over now," he said, a note of wonder in his voice. "I mean, that was the last exam, right? We're officially done now!"

Hermione dropped down beside him, then snuggled up close to him.

"Imagine," Ron continued as he stroked her hair with the arm on which Hermione now lay, "that right after we get the results of our N.E.W.T.'s we'll be applying for jobs, and the two of you are getting married and everything. I mean, everything's going to be different now, isn't it?"

"Actually," Harry began tentatively, glancing at Ginny for permission and seeing her nod, "Ginny and I were wondering if you'd want to, um, postpone that whole applying for jobs part with us."

Ron and Hermione both turned their heads to regard him, squinting against the sunlight. Harry obliged them by stepping around them so they would not have to look into the sun, then put an arm around Ginny.

"After the honeymoon, we're going to travel around the world for a while, and we were wondering if you'd like to come along. You know, see some sights, do some camping that doesn't involve casting seventy protective spells every evening, that sort of thing. It used to be tradition."

Ron and Hermione turned to regard each other, and Harry could not help but be amazed at the conversation that passed between them without any spoken words. Finally, Ron turned back to Harry, his face screwed up in thought.

"What are we going to do to pay for it though? I mean, it's not like we have savings or anything, not for a trip around the world."

Harry glanced at Ginny, noticing the frown on her face, and spoke quickly to head her off.

"I haven't told them yet." Then, adressing Ron and Hermione, "Bill did an assessment of my vault a while back. It's a lot fuller than I'd expected it to be. So I'd like to take all of you on a trip around the world."

Ron's face spoke volumes and Harry wanted to say more, but Ginny cut him off.

"Listen, Ron," she said, "I know you're going to say that you want to pay for this sort of thing yourself. Don't be a prat and pass this up just because your pride gets in the way, alright? It's something Harry and I really want to share with you."

Hermione got up on one elbow.

"What about jobs though?" Hermione looked as if she still had doubts, but she already sounded half convinced. "I've already received a few owls with job offers, and some of them are really good."

Harry and Ginny just glanced at each other and kept silent. After five seconds Hermione came to her decision.

"Well, job offers will still be there after we come back. I mean, I am the brightest witch of my age, who wouldn't want me?" She squealed when Ron tickled her, but after a few seconds they both sobered up a bit.

"So you reckon we'll do it then?" Ron looked at Hermione tentatively. She nodded.

"I'd like to. A bit of freedom might be just what we all need before we start our careers."

Ginny squealed and dived on top of her brother and her best friend, and Harry soon joined them on the grass. When they were all done hugging, Ginny expertly maneuvred her head onto Harry's chest. They all lay still for a while, enjoying the freedom that they now had, until Harry could no longer contain the question he wanted to ask Ginny.

"Gin?" He kept his voice soft, not wanting the break the spell of peace that had settled on them. She purred softly into his chest. "Do you think we can tell your parents about our wedding plans now?"

At that, she looked up at him, one of her beautiful radiant smiles on her face, and nodded.

"Yeah, I'd like that. Mum'll probably go nuts, 'cause we want to do it so soon though."

That evening Harry stepped out of the fireplace at the Burrow, following Ginny and closely followed by Ron and Hermione. He had asked professor McGonagall for permission for this trip, seeing as he was still supposed to be at Hogwarts for the end of year ceremony in less than a week, and she had granted him permission on the condition that they all return the same evening. A surprised but pleased Molly Weasley soon engulfed them all in hugs, and Mr. Weasley arrived home from work not much later as they were all sitting on the sofa with a cup of tea.

"So, tell us what you didn't want to tell me before your father got here, dear." She addressed her daughter, and Arthur Weasley raised an eyebrow.

Ginny took a deep breath. Harry noticed that she had a vicelike grip on his hand, and squeezed hers in return to know he was there. How she could be so nervous about telling her parents about their engagement, he could not fathom. Then again, he remembered the talk he had had with Mr. Weasley the previous year, and the nerves he himself had felt then. His fiancee glanced at him and he gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

"Mum, dad," Ginny began, taking another deep breath, "Harry and I are getting married." With that, she held up the hand with the ring so they could see it plainly.

Molly squealed at her daughter's words, then glanced at the ring and squealed again.

"Oh how wonderful!" Her voice was quite sincere as she practically jumped off the couch and grasped her daughter and Harry into a hug that left them both breathless. "Goodness, when did this happen?"

When Mrs. Weasley finally released them, her husband rushed up to hug his daughter and shake Harry's hand. Ginny recounted the tale of the festival in Hogsmeade, now obviously much more relaxed than moments before, and Harry was embarrassed to note Mrs. Weasley blinking away tears while she exclaimed how romantic it had all been.

When the initial commotion was over, the four students soon found themselves seated on the Weasleys' old, comfortable sofa talking with Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Weasley was busying himself contacting the rest of his children. Not surprisingly, the Burrow was soon filled with even more redheaded Weasleys, and Harry and Ginny were forced to retell the story of the proposal at least four times.

Bill and a very pregnant Fleur were the last to arrive, and when Bill had finally managed to maneuver his wife into a comfortable chair, he dropped onto the sofa and sighed. Harry thought that the curse breaker looked distinctly careworn. There were dark circles under his eyes, he was paler than usual, and generally gave the impression that he was in need of at least two nights of deep, untroubled sleep.

If this was what he could expect to look like if he ever got Ginny pregnant, Harry decided that having children could wait for a while yet.

"So, 'Arry," Fleur began after she had found a comfortable position in her chair. Bill's head snapped up as if he had been dozing off, and there was general laughter from the gathered crowd. Fleur gave her husband a fond smile before continuing. "'Ave you set a date yet for ze wedding? We must 'ave time to prepare for ze big party, yes?"

Harry saw Ginny's nervous glance and took her hand in his. They had only discussed this with Ron and Hermione, and none of them were sure what Mrs. Weasley would make of the short term on which they wanted to plan the wedding.

"We'd like to have the wedding eight weeks from now," he said, and there were collective gasps from everyone except Ron and Hermione. Fleur looked stricken.

"But surely you must know zat Bill and I spent more zan a year planning our wedding?" The French accent only served to increase the incredulous tone in Fleur's voice. She caught Molly's eye, and for once the two women seemed to be in total agreement.

"You can't just organize a big wedding in eight weeks, dears," Molly said, "those things take a lot more time than that. You have to find a space that'll be big enough for all the guests, and a band, and, oh, if you want to send the invitations, you'll have to do it right away." She was ticking off each task on her fingers, as if counting them. "Then there's the dress, you'll need someone preside over the ceremony, you have to think out the whole ceremony... Can't you wait a bit longer?"

"Zere is also ze honeymoon to consider," added Fleur, and Molly raised yet another finger, nodding at her daughter-in-law, "and plans for ze seating arrangements, and ze catering..."

Harry felt Ginny squeeze his hand and momentarily tuned out the women in front of him. Catching her eye, he saw a very small smile creep onto her face. This was exactly what they had been afraid of, even though the reality of it turned out to be more amusing than annoying so far. Steeling himself, he raised a hand to beg for silence. Fleur quieted down.

"We've decided that we want to keep the ceremony small and intimate," he said, hoping that they would let him finish. When nobody interrupted him, he continued. "We're only inviting immediate family and friends, and we don't want a fuss."

There was a stunned silence. Mrs. Weasley was the first to regain her composure.

"But this is your WEDDING we're talking about! It's..."

"Yes mum," Ginny cut her off in a voice that Harry found surprisingly calm, "that's precisely the point. It's OUR wedding. You do realize who I'm marrying, right?"

Mrs. Weasley looked thorougly nonplussed at her daughter's question. Bill, however, seemed to grasp her meaning.

"You're worried that if you and Boy-Who-Lived here," he said, waving a hand at Harry, "have a big public wedding, it'll turn into a media circus?"

"I think they prefer Saviour of the Wizarding World these days," George added, causing a bout of laughter that seemed to ease the tension a bit.

"Mum," Ginny continued when the chuckles died down, "The first time Harry kissed me, well, this time around at least, was in front of an army of reporters. When he proposed to me it was in total privacy, in a really romantic place. If I had to choose which of those two places I'd choose for my wedding, I'd go with the private romantic setting any day. This was my idea, not Harry's."

"But you're my only daughter," Mrs. Weasley protested weakly. "I've always dreamed of creating the perfect wedding for you."

"Molly," Harry said, belatedly realizing that he had not addressed his soon to be mother-in-law by the usual more polite form, "the perfect wedding doesn't have to be huge. We just think that by keeping it intimate, it can be something that's really ours."

At that, and after a rather large sigh, Mrs. Weasley relented.

"Can I still help with the details?" Mrs. Weasley's question earned her a wide grin from her daughter.

"Of course you can," Ginny exclaimed, "and the first thing we're going to do is hunt for a wedding dress."

It did not take long for the four females present to huddle around a small table stacked with catalogues of wedding dresses that Mrs. Weasley had summoned from the attic. The men took a place in the garden and opened up a few butterbeers. When they were out of earshot of the girls, Bill turned a suspicious glare on Harry. Suddenly feeling threatened, Harry glanced at the other Weasley men around him. Both Mr. Weasley and George wore expressions similar to Bills, though Ron just looked amused.

"Out with it, Potter. Is there any special reason that you want to get married so soon?" Bill almost growled the question, the marks of the werewolf on his face giving him a scary demeanor.

Harry just stared at him. What special reason would he need to want to marry... Something clicked and he jumped.

"Oh! No, no, not at all. We're not even... I mean... We just want..."

"I personally think," George interrupted him, "that it's rather suspicious. Two months is about the time it takes for them to begin showing obvious signs, don't you think?"

"But George, I haven't..."

"So tell us, Harry, and be quite sure to answer truthfully. Why do you want to marry our sister all of a sudden now?" Bill had spoken over Harry's stammering response.

"I won't be angry, Harry," Mr. Weasley added, though even he sounded a bit menacing now, "I just want you to be honest with me. Are you and my daughter..."

"Dad, I'm not pregnant." Ginny interrupted him loudly. She had stuck her head out of the kitchen window and was now glaring at her father. The older man gave a start, and the glares on his sons' faces turned instantly to sheepish grins. Ron laughed loudly. Ginny, however, was not finished.

"There's no way I could be pregnant, Harry and I haven't done that yet. Now stop badgering my fiancee or I'll hex you, family or no!" With that, she slammed the window shut so hard that several gnomes that had been lounging under it ran for their lives.

Mr. Weasley blushed. Bill and George chuckled. Ron was now rolling around on the grass, laughing uncontrollably.

"Sorry, Harry," Mr. Weasley muttered, "Just making sure you're being good to my only daughter."

"Yeah, sorry Harry," added Bill and George together, rather sheepishly.

Feeling only partially relieved, Harry gave Mr. Weasley a shaky smile. Inwardly he was considering what the Weasley men had just implied. Ginny's parents thought they might be... Heck, even Ginny's brothers thought they were...

Well, Ron and Hermione sure were, he knew that much.

Maybe Ron had told his father about that, asked him for advice about it even, and that could have made Mr. Weasley assume that he and Ginny were also... But they were not, of course. Not yet. They had not actually discussed anything about this, but Harry had always assumed that Ginny would want to wait until they were married.

She had never mentioned that she might want to do it with him. Then again, she had not said that she did not, either. It just had not happened yet.

Catching himself frowning slightly at his fiancee through the window, he gave himself a mental shake. This was not a good train of thought to follow right now.

They all spent an enjoyable evening together, though Harry had to remind himself several times to keep his mind on the present, before the four students finally stood up to make their way back to Hogwarts. Finding himself last in line for the fireplace, he was surprised when Mr. Weasley put a hand on his shoulder to stop him when Ginny had disappeared in a flash of green flames.

"Son," he said, and Harry turned to face him, "I must apologize for the accusation I made earlier today."

"No harm done, Mr. Weasley." Harry's reply came before he could think of anything else to say, and he decided that it was true.

"Perhaps not, Harry," Mr. Weasley continued, "I still think that I should not have jumped to conclusions so quickly. Seeing as Ron asked my advice on a matter of, ah, physical relationships a while ago, I had just assumed that you might have taken that step in your relationship with my daughter as well."

Mr. Weasley's tone suggested that he might have something to add, and Harry did not speak.

"If the two of you do decide to take things further," Mr. Weasley spoke after a few seconds silence, "I must ask you to be mindful of the consequences you might face if you do not take precautions. Are you aware of the, ah, well, that is to say... Has anyone ever discussed..."

Harry felt his face flush. He noticed that Bill, George and Mrs. Weasley were suddenly conspicuously absent from the room.

"Well," he stammered, "I think I know a few things..."

At this he fell silent. Did he know a few things? He had seen magazines, of course. One could not spend ten months in a year in a boys' dormitory without encountering magazines. The Wizarding world's magazines provided the interesting added benefit of moving pictures, so that he considered that he might even know a bit about the mechanics involved. He did not, however, know much about the precautions Mr. Weasley had mentioned.

Feeling foolish but curious, he decided to be honest with the people he, after all, considered to be his honorary parents.

"Actually, I'm not so sure." Now that he had decided to speak his mind, he found that words came easier. "Nobody's ever told me anything about precautions. I mean, I know that it's is how you make babies and all, and I think I know a bit about how it's done, but I'd appreciate any advice you might give me."

Saying that to the father of his fiancee, Harry figured, was probably the scariest thing he had ever done. Mr. Weasley seemed to notice and his demeanor changed somewhat.

"Why don't you floo the rest to tell them you'll be a bit later, Harry? Perhaps you and I can sit down and talk for a bit."

Ginny looked curious when he announced that he'd be back later because he wanted to talk to her father for a while, but she did not protest and he soon found himself sitting across from Mr. Weasley on the couch.

"Now son," the older man began, "I'd like you to forget for a moment that Ginny is my daughter, and understand that I've told all of my sons the things I'm about to tell you. If you have any questions, please feel free to ask them."

At that moment, Mrs. Weasley came in with a pot of tea and set it on the table, then sat down beside her husband. Harry swallowed and looked at her nervously. Was Molly going to stay for this talk? He was embarrassed enough as it was.

"Harry, dear," she said, obviously noticing his reaction, "Arthur and I have always thought it important for our children to understand both sides of the story, so we have discussed this with them together. I could leave, if you really want me to."

Considering this, Harry slowly shook his head, and found that he had just decided on his first question.

"Are things so different for, um, women than for men?"

Mrs. Weasley nodded.

"Yes," she said solemnly, "very different. You see, for most boys, sex is just something physical. For girls, it is much more than that. For us, it is much more about feelings. You could say that it's much more intimate for a girl to have sex, than it is for a boy."

Harry nodded, drinking in the information. As the subjects they discussed moved from the realm of theory and emotion to contraceptive spells and herbs, and finally to the mechanics involved, he began to understand that there was a lot more to it than he had always thought. At the very least, he now knew that some of Dean's magazines were rather unrealistic.

When, after quite a lot more time than he had expected to spend at the Weasleys' house, he finally stepped into the fireplace, he felt grateful beyond words that he had Mr. and Mrs. Weasley in his life. His parents would have told him of these things if they had not died when he was so young, but the Weasley parents seemed to understand that they were the only people he could turn to for answers to these questions.

They helped him even though they knew that the person he might be trying their advice on was their only daughter.

With a slight smile and a wave at Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, he stepped into the green flames and spun his way back to the Head Boy's room at Hogwarts.

The first thing he noticed was that the room was lit by a single candle that looked like it had been burning for a while. Absently waving his wand at the fireplace and muttering the locking charm, he smiled at the sleeping figure on his bed. Ginny had apparently decided to wait for him, and had fallen asleep reading the Quiddich section of the Prophet. It lay open close to the edge of the bed.

Pulling the paper gently from her slack fingers, he folded it and put it on his desk. A glance at his watch told him that he had been talking to the Weasleys for more than two hours.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed and gently ran his fingers through Ginny's long mane of red hair. She stirred slightly, and he bent down to kiss her lightly on the lips.

"Hey you," she mumbled sleepily against his lips. "What took you so long?"

Harry grinned.

"Your dad wanted to have a bit of a talk with me," he replied, trying to keep his voice neutral, "you know, guy stuff."

Ginny's eyes widened slightly as she deduced exactly what Harry had just been discussing with her parents. She sat up, looking incredulous.

"My dad did NOT just give you The Talk. Are you serious?"

Harry just nodded.

"Wow, that's scary." She hugged herself and shivered slightly, though he could see that she was putting up a bit of a show. "You know this means that my dad will be having nightmares tonight about what you and I might be doing right now, don't you?"

They both burst out laughing.

When they had recovered somewhat, they were lying next to each other, staring up at the ceiling.

"So," Ginny finally said, tentatively.

"So," Harry replied.

"Did you learn anything new?" There was a slight quiver of laughter in Ginny's voice. Harry decided to shock her.

"Quite a few things, actually." He pointedly stared at the ceiling, but caught enough movement out of the corner of his eye to recognize that she had turned her head and was now looking at him. Imagining the open-mouthed expression she would probably be wearing, he made a supreme effort not to grin.

When he stayed silent for a while, Ginny propped herself up on an elbow.

"You're serious." She had that look of wonder again that he loved to see, and he caught her gaze. "Did you, um... I mean, did dad really tell you things you didn't know?"

"Actually, your mum did most of the talking." At this, Ginny's eyes went a lot wider than they had previously. Harry allowed himself to smile now. "And yeah, I really did learn a lot. My parents didn't get to tell me any of that stuff, you know."

"My mum and dad both had The Talk with you. Together." Ginny stated it as if by saying it, she could take away the reality of it. "I don't think I'll ever be able to go home again."

Harry pushed himself up on an elbow so that they faced each other, their faces inches apart. Her face softened considerably as he moved closer, her eyes flickering from his to his mouth and back. Just short of kissing her, he stopped.

"I love you," he said, softly, his lips brushing hers as he spoke. She did not reply, but a soft sigh escaped her lips, passed through every layer of his thoughts as if they weren't there and settled somewhere in his chest, making him shiver all over.

"Some day, I'd like us to move beyond kissing and cuddling", he added, his lips still brushing hers, "but only when we're both ready for it."

At that, she smiled at him.

"You're marrying me in two months, Harry," she whispered, the feathery touches of her lips on his sending shocks down his body, "do you think I'd have said yes to that if I didn't want to... be with you? Completely?"

"Don't you think we should wait until we're married?" Harry breathed as Ginny snaked a hand under his shirt.

Still smiling, she pulled back an inch to nod at him.

"I do want to wait until we're married," she said, her face taking on a more serious expression, "it's sort of always been this perfect fantasy I've always had. You know, you sweeping me off my feet, marrying me, and us having kids and all." The hand under his shirt stroked his back as if it had a mind of it's own.

"Well, I really am going to marry you in two months." Harry's voice was rough, and a tingly feeling was slowly spreading throughout his body. He did not want to pressure her into anything, and he really did not want to do anything that they would regret later on, but the soft touch of her fingers on his back was driving him crazy.

Ginny looked at him curiously for a few seconds, then slowly leaned back in to kiss him.

"You've already seen me in my underwear," she breathed, pulling back just enough to be able to talk. Then, after a few seconds, she continued in a more uncertain tone. "Why didn't you, um, you know, push me into doing more then?"

Harry was taken aback by that question, and he moved back to be able to look into her eyes without going cross-eyed.

"I've never wanted to push you into anything," he said, meaning every word.

"Yeah, I know," she said, smiling sweetly at him before continuing in that same uncertain, tentative tone. "It's just... Don't you think that life's too short to take things as slowly as we're taking them? I mean, we must be the only virgins left in seventh year."

"Would you have wanted me to push you?" Harry was positively confused now.

Ginny looked thoughtful for a few seconds. Her eyes seemed to be making a detailed survey of his face, and for the first time since their proposal he found himself feeling uncertain about what she might want.

"I think I'd have gone along with it if you had," she finally said.

"That's not what I asked you," Harry said, but he felt strenghtened in his belief that pushing her into going further with him would not have been a good idea. "Would you have wanted to?"

She took another while to reply, but now her eyes were more pensive, her expression more thoughtful.

"Not really." She made it sound as if she was admitting to something shameful. "It's not how I'd imagined our first time, but even though... I mean... You'd just saved my life."

"Do you think that's what I'd want our first time to be like? A reward for saving your life?" Harry made himself smile while he said it, but inwardly he felt like cursing. Whenever they chose to take that step, he wanted it to be because they both really wanted to.

"Mum's always said it's different for boys." Her voice was soft, and it was as if she was confiding in him. "I've always thought that you'd, um, you know, just push me into it some time because you wanted to do it. Mum says that boys are all about hormones, and that they just can't control them sometimes."

"Yeah, she did say that." Ginny's eyes widened ever so slightly, but then she laughed her innocent, beautifully clear laugh, and Harry felt his heart lift.

"I almost forgot that they had that talk with you just now," she said, still giggling. "Mum sat me down for that last year. The evening you asked me out to the ball, actually."

"Well, whatever your mum might say, I want our first time together to be special. A shag in a sleeping bag right after you'd fallen down a mountain and almost died of hypothermia might be memorable, but not special in the way I mean."

Ginny responded by kissing him softly, then snuggled closer to lean her head on his chest. She lay there, very still, for so long that Harry thought she might have dozed off again. He was starting to drift off himself when she finally spoke.

"Do you know that you're the only person in the world that I can really open myself up to?"

"How do you reckon that? "

"I've got six brothers who'll tease me about anything emotional I do. Mum and dad are great, but they're still my parents, and I don't want them to know everything that goes on in my head. Hermione's a great friend, but she's my brother's girlfriend, and somehow I can't cry in front of her. Most of the other girls in our year are just shallow."

Had she needed to confide this in him? Ginny sounded as if this was something of enormous importance to her, and he could understand most of what she was saying. Maybe her relationship with Hermione was like his friendship with Ron, in that there were some things they just did not share with each other. He stayed silent to allow her to continue.

"You're the only person in my life that I could tell anything to, and not be afraid that you'll use it against me somehow. With you, I can really be me, you know?"

Harry took a slow, deep breath, savouring the flowery scent of her hair, and considered what she had just said. He did know, really.

"I feel the same way," he said after a short while. "I can share anything with you, tell you anything, and always know you're going to take me seriously."

Ginny snuggled up to him even closer, then looked up to stare into his face. She was studying him again, he knew, and there was something else on her mind. A year with Ginny had taught him that all he had to do was wait.

"Are we being stupid, waiting until we're married?" The question burst from her as if it, rather than her, had been in control of her tongue. She hastened to explain herself. "I mean, after the war, everyone said life's too short, you know, and I know for a fact that Lavender let Seamus talk her into sleeping with him by saying that..."

Harry silenced her by pressing his index finger to her lips, and she instantly looked sheepish.

"The war's over. It has been for a while." He stroked a hand through her hair, keeping her gaze. He had thought about this for a long time, even though he had not expressed those thoughts to her until then. "I don't think life's all that short at all. In fact," he said, pausing to kiss the tip of her nose, "I expect you and me to have a full, long lifetime together. That's what we fought for, isn't it? The right to live life in the way we choose for ourselves?"

"You really do see us growing old together, don't you?" She sounded almost surprised when she asked the question, after a few moments of silence in which she had seemed to be considering his words.

"I need to believe that, Ginny." Harry felt a familiar wave of emotion wash over him as he said it. The same emotions - pride at having accomplished the ending of Voldemort's rule, sadness and anger at the many lives that had been lost, a fierce, fiery determination to make the most of the future that now lay open to him - accosted him whenever he dwelled on that line of thought. "I need to believe that you and I can have a real future, that we have nothing to fear from life."

"No rushing into things then?"

"No compromising on the quality of what we do. If you have a dream about our wedding night, I'd like to try and make that dream come true for you."

"I'd like that too."

They lay together in easy silence for a while.

"Would you mind if I slept here tonight?" Ginny's voice was soft, solicitous even. She was still resting her head on his chest, and Harry ran a playful hand through her long mane of red hair.

"That depends."

"On what?"

"Do I get to see you in your underwear again?"

There was a short pause as she raised her head to look him in the face, and there was a look in her eyes that caused a tingly sensation to spread from his chest to other, less easily controlled parts of his body.

"Wouldn't you like to see a bit more?"

Back to index

---

Chapter 7: Jitters

Soft snoring filled the usually quiet room in Grimauld Place that was now the master bedroom. Feeling that he had not relieved all the tension that he had hoped to release by taking the walk he was now returning from, Harry made an effort to be quiet while shutting the door, then sat down on a large, ornate chair next to the bed. The ugly wooden thing, decorated with the carved and silvered serpents that still permeated the entire house, served as a place to dump his clothes when he did not feel like hanging them neatly where they were supposed to hang.

He hoped Ginny would not make him give up that habit when she officially moved in with him after the wedding.

Sitting silently in the near-dark, he watched the familiar redhead on the far side of his bed. The gears in his head had not wanted to stop turning all night, and he would expect Ginny to have similar issues. Directing a burning glare at the mop of red hair that peeked from under the blankets, he silently swore.

"You just sleep, Weasley," he grumbled quietly, cursing the slow and easy breathing that he found himself unable to master tonight. "When I'm best man at your wedding, I'll come and sleep in your bed and keep you away from Hermione. See how you like that."

As if in response to his grumblings, though he would not have been sure that they had been uttered aloud at all, his best man stirred. The two men sat stating at each other for a few seconds, before Ron finally broke the silence.

"Can't sleep, can you?"

Harry responded with a blank stare that would have impressed his fiancée.

"Can't say that I blame you," Ron continued, obviously determined to ignore Harry's chagrin, "I mean, you're tying the knot in what, twelve hours?"

Harry checked his watch again, though he could have told Ron that the wedding ceremony would begin in thirteen hours, fourteen minutes, and somewhere around nine seconds.

"Firewhiskey didn't help then?"

Harry still did not respond. He had just returned from a long walk, having been sorely tempted to just Apparate to the Burrow and sneak into Ginny's bed. They were still waiting for their wedding night, but there was a comfort in her arms that he missed sorely while Ron occupied the empty half of his bed. Much though he felt he needed her, he really had not wanted to jinx the wedding by spending the night with her.

He also suspected that the wedding would not be the only thing that might be on the receiving end of a jinx if he tried to sneak into Ginny's room tonight. Ron might be in his bed, but Hermione was providing the same service for Ginny.

"Look, mate, you're supposed to sleep separately on the night before your wedding. It's tradition."

The only reply Harry felt like giving to that was a grunt. Ron seemed to take this as progress, as he sat up and moved a bit closer.

"I don't like being in your bed either, if it's any comfort." Ron's look turned rueful. "I'd rather spend the night with 'Mione."

Harry could not contain the sigh any longer, and it forced its way out of him.

"It's not that," he said, after Ron had tactfully - and quite uncharacteristically - remained silent to let him gather his thoughts. "I can't even really put a finger on why I can't sleep. I mean..."

There was a moment of silence as he sought for the right words.

"...I'm getting married tomorrow, Ron. Married, for Merlin's sake. The past year's been wonderful, but I just still can't get it together in my head that life's normal now, and I get to do normal stuff like everyone else. Remember where we were around now two years ago?"

"In a tent in some forest or the other, I think," Ron chuckled. "You're gonna to have to accept it sometime though, and it'd better be somewhere in the next twelve hours. Do you plan on getting any sleep tonight?"

"Calming draught's the only thing that'll help me do that tonight," Harry grumbled, then got up off the chair and moved to the door. "Go back to sleep. I've just decided what I can do to ease my mind a bit, and I need to do it alone."

Rather unexpectedly, Ron bounded off the bed and picked up his robe.

"You're not going anywhere without me, mate," he said seriously. "If you decide to go to the Burrow, Hermione'll jinx your bits off. You know what the tradition of best man used to be for, right?"

Momentarily struck dumb both by Ron's unexpected offer to join him and by the question, Harry realized that he did not, in fact, know where the tradition of best man came from. Noting that Ron was pulling on robes, he decided that taking along his best friend would not be a bad idea.

"Dress muggle," he said, and suddenly overcome with curiosity, he could not contain the question. "What was the best man for then, before it was just sort of a ceremonial position?"

"Hermione made me read all about it," Ron grumbled while pulling off his robes and reaching for the jeans and sweater on the chair on the other side of the bed, "wanted me to know what I was getting into, and how important it was. Muggle best men don't spend the night before the wedding with the groom, did you know that?"

Harry had not even known that Wizards had this tradition until several days ago, and muttered as much. Ron grunted from inside his Weasley jumper.

"Well anyway, me spending the night here with you is supposed to keep you out of trouble." Ron continued to talk while they made their way down the stairs and into the hall. "Wizards decided not to drop that part of the role of the best man, 'cause, well, you know, we can get into a lot more trouble in less time than Muggles."

Harry grinned at that. His life in the Wizarding world so far had taught him that much.

"Now in ancient times, and I mean really long ago, as far back as before the International Statute of Secrecy, there were these people called the Goths, and they sometimes needed to find a bride outside their village."

Harry drew up an eyebrow at this. Ron really had made a study of what it meant to be a best man. He was also starting to sound like Hermione in a way that was rather disconcerting. Still, he did not want to interrupt his friend.

"The brides of that time weren't always eager to go with the grooms, mind you, so the groom would make sure he had a friend with him when he went to kidnap his bride."

Harry stopped in the middle of walking out the front door, causing Ron to bump into him from behind.

"Wait," Harry blurted out incredulously, "you mean you're supposed to help me kidnap a bride?"

"Well, that's what it started as," Ron said, shrugging, "but it goes further than that. You see, the bride's family wouldn't always agree with the wedding plans, so they'd send people to come and fetch her back, yeah? So the best man's job would be to keep the groom safe in case of an attack. It used to be that I'd have to carry a sword and everything."

"So you're my bodyguard then," Harry mused aloud, earning himself a wide grin from his best man.

They made their way outside and Harry closed the door behind him.

"Where are we going?" Ron asked suddenly, and Harry realized that he had not told his friend what he intended to do.

"Godric's Hollow."

Ron just nodded and grabbed hold of Harry's shoulder. Belatedly, Harry realized that Ron had not been with them when he and Hermione had gone there during the Horcrux hunt, and he spun on the spot, pulling Ron with him.

A short, uncomfortable moment later, they stood in front of the gate of the cemetary at Godric's Hollow. Ron released his shoulder, and Harry gave him a shaky smile as he indicated the village.

"Welcome to the place where it all started for me," he murmured, "If you'd like to see proof, there's a statue of me over there."

A shake of the head indicated that Ron did not need to see the statue.

"You want to visit your parents' grave?"

Harry nodded, then opened the gate and went inside without another word. Ron followed, but at a distance, seeming not to want to intrude. There was no need to search this time. He remembered exactly where the headstone was, and soon found himself facing the engraved white marble.

More than a year ago, he had decided not to go back for the Resurrection Stone. Now he suddenly found himself wishing he had it again. The marble was cold and still, and even though the place had a certain air of tranquility about it, this visit was not yet bringing him the peace of mind he had hoped to find. Silently he stood, gazing at the grave, until it occurred to him why he had decided to come here in the first place.

He wanted to talk to his parents.

Lacking any other physical manifestations of them, he decided that the headstone would have to do. Lowering himself to his knees, he found a comfortable position and glanced around, finding Ron outside casual hearing distance. He seemed to be studying the graves a while off, but Harry knew his friend well enough to understand that he was trying to give him a bit of privacy.

"Hi mum," he finally mumbled to the headstone. It did not respond, but he persevered. "Hi dad. I know it's a bit lame, me talking to your grave as if you're here and not, you know, wherever it is you are now, but I just needed to talk to you."

Despite the balmy summer air, he shivered slightly.

"I'm getting married in the morning. I'm marrying the girl I love, and it's going to be a little ceremony, just close family and friends, you know. I wish you could be here for it. I wish you could have been here for all of my life. 'Course I know it's stupid to wish for that, but I just wanted you to know that even though I never really got the chance to know you, I miss you."

Harry cleared his throat, then took a deep breath, and said what he had really come to say.

"I just want you to know that I love you. I understand what love means now. Even though I've always been capable of it, I've only just realized how many kinds of love there are, and how it's really the same, all of it. I hope you'll be there at the wedding tomorrow, even though I won't get to see you. I hope you're proud of me."

With some effort, as he had never mastered conjuring spells as well as Hermione had, he managed to conjure two white roses, which he arranged neatly on the marble slab that sealed the grave. He then rose and went to rejoin Ron.

"Alright?" Ron's stance was relaxed as he stood waiting for Harry.

"Alright." Harry's gaze met Ron's, and they stood watching each other silently for a few seconds. Then Harry nodded, and without speaking, they Apparated back to Grimauld Place.

Half an hour, a glass of Firewhiskey and only a few short bits of conversation later, Harry's head finally hit the pillow again.

Another hour spent awake later, he let out a sigh.

"Having second thoughts?"

Ron's voice startled Harry, as he had not been aware that his friend was not asleep. Still, he knew the correct answer to that question.

"No, not at all."

"Sure?"

"Yeah."

It occurred to Harry that serious conversations about feelings between himself and Ron had a tendency to get rutted in one-syllable sentences. He resolved to change that.

"I'm a bit scared though," he admitted, and was rewarded by a chuckle from the other side of the bed.

"Can't say I blame you, mate," Ron said encouragingly, propping himself up on an elbow and regarding Harry seriously, "This being a life-long commitment your getting yourself into and all."

"That's not it at all," Harry said, realizing the truth of the statement while he said it, and finally realizing what the problem was that was keeping him awake. "It's just that so much is changing all of a sudden. We're not in school anymore. I'm going to be a married man in less than a day, and then Ginny and I will be off on our honeymoon. When we get back, the four of us are going traveling. That'll be something familiar, you know, but after that, we'll all go and have our careers. It's all changing. We're all going to have a lot less time to spend together."

There was a silence as Ron considered this.

"Are you scared that we'll drift apart? You, me and Hermione, I mean."

"I guess I am."

"Nah."

"Huh?"

There it was again, mused Harry, one-syllable sentences. Ron surprised him, however.

"Just 'cause you're married and we all get jobs, that doesn't mean we won't have time to spend together. We've been through too much together for that. Besides, mum'll kill Ginny if she never comes to dinner at the Burrow, and I'll expect you to be best man at my wedding sometime in the near future."

"Thinking of asking Hermione, are you?" Harry asked, chuckling, expecting to lighten the mood a bit. Ron's response was, however, unexpectedly serious.

"Yeah, I was hoping to ask her tomorrow actually."

Harry sat up and looked his friend in the eye, at least as much as the little light in the room allowed. Not finding any visible trace of guile on his best man's face, he felt a sense of wonder steal over him.

"You're serious, aren't you?" He heard the surprised tone, but Ron just answered with a slight smile.

"What," he asked, "did you think you were keeping me awake? I'm as nervous as you are, mate."

"So you've got a ring and everything then?"

"Yeah, want to see it?"

Ron suddenly seemed full of energy as he bounded off the bed and pulled a small box from an inner pocket of his robes. He opened it, and, lighting his wand to get a better look, Harry saw a simple golden band, delicately engraved with what appeared to be tiny leaves and flowers.

"She'll love this, mate," Harry said emphatically, but Ron looked dubious.

"Are you sure? It's the best I could afford."

Harry regarded his friend with what he though was probably a quizzical look.

"You think Hermione expects a huge diamond?"

Ron looked pained for a moment.

"I just don't want to disappoint her, mate. I mean..." There was a short silence as Ron seemed to order his thoughts. "She means the world to me, and all I can afford to give her to show her that, is this ring."

"Worried it's not going to get the message across?"

"Yeah."

"Don't."

"What?"

"Worry."

"Why?"

"Because that's not how Hermione works, and you know it."

Ron sighed, but remained silent.

"What she's going to see isn't what that ring cost in money, mate," Harry said, "she'll see that you've put a lot of effort into finding a ring that suits her. She's also going to see how sincere you are. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised at all if she burst into tears when you ask her, even before she sees the ring."

Ron looked hopeful at that, but did not speak.

"You really did put a lot of effort into finding that ring, didn't you?"

"Yeah, I did. Must've been to every jewelry in Diagon Alley and Muggle London. Finally found this one in a tiny little muggle shop, and it sort of had her name written all over it, you know?"

"Yeah, I know what you mean." Harry smiled at his friend. "She'll love it, mate. Good for you."

Ron put the ring away and punched his pillow into shape. There was a long silence after they both put their heads down again.

"D'ye think either of us'll get any sleep tonight?" Ron finally asked ruefully as the first light of dawn began to filter through the curtains.

"Nah," said Harry, who had been lying in the dark silently, lost in thought. "Let's just get up and brew something that'll keep us awake all day."

Ron barked a laugh.

An hour later the two friends were showered, dressed, and enjoying one of Kreacher's famous breakfasts. Having given up trying to make some kind of potion for fear of accidentally turning himself green on his wedding day, Harry had decided on a large mug of steaming coffee to help him through the day. It, combined with the hot breakfast, served to relax and revive him more than the attempted night's sleep had.

When they were comfortably full and sipping their third mugs of strong black coffee, Ron looked Harry in the eye.

"You're looking a lot less tense."

Harry realized that he felt less tense, and on examination, so did Ron. He said as much to his friend, who nodded and checked his watch. Ron stood up, and Harry frowned.

"It is my duty as Best Man to inform you," Ron began in a hilarious immitation of Percy's prefect voice, "that you are expected at the Burrow in exactly an hour and a half. I have a checklist here..."

With a flourish, Ron conjured up a roll of parchment, unrolled it, and then continued.

"...that I am required to use, so that you and I do not show up there without certain having performed certain very important actions."

Harry laughed at what was obviously another of Hermione's ways to ensure that Ron did his job as best man well.

"For starters," Ron continued in his most pompous voice, "you are to get your behind up to the bathroom and remove all that stubble from your face. In the meanwhile, I shall ensure that your dress robes are ready for you to put on, and..."

Kreacher appeared out of thin air with a loud crack, and before Ron could react, grabbed the parchment.

"Kreacher will take care of the logistics, Master," the house elf said to Harry's delight and Ron's spluttered disapproval.

In the end, Kreacher was able to convince Ron that such matters as preparing dress robes and ensuring that all important items were packed, should be left to the more capable hands of the elf, and the two friends found themselves in the bathroom employing razors. Harry's enchanted one flicked expertly over his face, never missing a hair, while Ron manually scratched his face free of the red stubble that had formed there during the night.

"So," Ron began in his most casual voice while scratching away at his face with his razor, "are you looking forward to the wedding night?"

Harry's head turned so sharply that he almost impaled his cheek on the enchanted razor. Fortunately, it was enchanted enough to dodge out of the way, though it wobbled disapprovingly before resuming its task.

"You did NOT just ask me that," Harry exclaimed.

Ron grinned at him.

"Yeah, I did."

"I thought you didn't want to know what I did with your sister."

"Well, it's no secret that you're waiting for your wedding night. Can't say I agree with the wisdom in that, but then again, you don't know what you're missing yet, do you?" Ron had the cheek to wink at him though the mirror.

"If you must know, I am looking forward to it," Harry said, trying not to upset the razor further by moving around too much, "but I'm also really nervous about it."

"Don't be," Ron said seriously, "You'll know what to do, don't worry."

Through the mirror, Harry frowned at his friend as if he was seeing him for the first time. The razor gave his cheek a final brush and then proceeded to clean itself before settling down on its accustomed place near the mirror.

"When did you grow up all of a sudden?"

Ron grinned at him.

"Don't tell anyone, I'm trying to keep my reputation intact as long as I can."

Patting the remaining foam off his face with a fluffy white towel, Ron examined his face in the mirror, then turned back to Harry.

"Seriously, I think 'Mione's rubbing off on me."

"Better marry her quickly then, before it gets any worse."

"Prat."

"Git."

When they were finally secure in their dress robes, Kreacher having expertly laundered and pressed them until not a speck of dust showed on the formal black robe that Harry now wore, Ron insisted on running through the checklist twice to ensure that they did not forget anything. Having ensured that nothing was missing, Harry turned to Kreacher.

"Do remember what we agreed upon, will you Kreacher?" Kreacher looked sheepish.

"Kreacher will attempt not to serve any of the guest at Master's party, Master."

Harry sighed.

"Kreacher," he started in his most diplomatic tone, "you're a guest at our party, not a servant, because you're important to us. Just try to have a good time, alright?"

"Yes, Master," croaked Kreacher, and Harry gave up on trying to entice the house elf into unwinding.

"Shall we be off then?" Harry asked, looking at Ron. His friend nodded, and they stepped out of the door. "Have you got the ring?"

Ron looked confused for a moment, then patted the slight bulge in his dress robes that contained the engagement ring.

"Yeah."

The tips of Ron's ears turned slightly pink, and Harry winked at him just before vanishing with a loud pop.

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---

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