We Had to Start Somewhere by Rant
Summary: Some believe in love at first sight, but for Harry and Ginny first sight happened years ago and they're far from enamored. It seems they will have to settle for the gradual kind, the kind that drives us all mad but makes sense - in the end.
Rating: PG-13
Categories: Post-OotP
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2005.04.01
Updated: 2011.09.08
We Had to Start Somewhere by Rant
Chapter 1: Brothers and Sisters
Author's Notes: Dedicated to my dear friend, Johnny, who doesn’t know I write fan fiction and will remain forever in the dark. It is he for whom I feel 50% love, 48% admiration and 2% frustration; in other words, he’s one of the best people I know.
(Standard Disclaimers Apply)
Part One
In the end, it would appear that Ron Weasley’s bad luck of being grounded for an entire month had been a good thing. Mind you, he wasn’t pleased about it but, then again, neither were his parents when they heard about what went on in the Department of Mysteries. A month of hauling boxes out of the attic and flinging gnomes was pittance in exchange for all that could have happened.
And, of course, Molly Weasley wouldn’t stand for her youngest son’s shenanigans to block the happiness for one Harry Potter. Good luck was on his side when Albus Dumbledore decided that three weeks in the Dursley’s household would be enough to hold off those with less-than-admirable intentions. So seven days prior to his birthday, Harry found himself portkeyed into the familiar, shabby — yet entirely loved and appreciated — Weasley home.
Ginny Weasley had her own brushes with luck, both bad and good, but that day had decided to rear its ugly head on her. Found sprawled on the floor at Harry’s feet as he was jerked into the room, Ginny decided laughter was the only logical thing to give into. It was either that, or run and hide from the embarrassment. And Ginny had not run for a very long time.
So she laughed.
Red-faced and apologizing, Harry helped her up and looked away uncomfortably as Ginny brushed herself off. Ginny slapped him on the shoulder, welcomed him home and proceeded to leave, laughter in her wake. As for Harry, he could only think that his day couldn’t get any worse. Trampling a Weasley in their own living room had to be looked down upon for guests, be they quiet boys on the verge of sixteen or ministry officials visiting Arthur Weasley. (Mr. Weasley, on his part, found this all terribly funny as well, so that made Harry feel just a tiny bit better). As Mr. Weasley helped him take his trunk upstairs, Harry could still hear Ginny giggling in the distance. And since he couldn’t help it, Harry smiled.
Months (and months and months) later, they would be something more, something quite beautiful and nothing that could be construed as trampled. But that’s a sappy ending that isn’t to be just yet, because that comes at the end where everyone’s pleased that Ron had been grounded. Fact is, each of those stories have a beginning, now don’t they?
This was their beginning.
“You’re still grounded?”
Harry was idly rubbing at the lenses of his glasses with a corner of his t-shirt. There was a red-topped blur pacing in front of him and he had to replace his glasses in order to see the absolute fury on Ron’s face. He immediately wished he’d stuck with the blur.
“For a month! Mum refused to back down!” Ron threw his hands in the air. “And you know how much Ginny got? A WEEK! She’s been standing around for two whole weeks, just laughing at me!”
Harry raised both his eyebrows. “Really?”
“Well, not laughing, but she looks entirely too pleased with herself,” Ron grumbled, sitting at the edge of the cot that Harry would be occupying for the next five weeks. His face now settling on defeat — which also made Harry feel better, though a little regretful as he realized why Ron was grounded — Ron scratched at the bright red marks on his arms. Wincing, Harry looked in another direction; everywhere he looked he kept seeing reminders of that fateful night.
“Listen, though,” Ron said slowly, stopping the listless scratching. “I’m sorry to leave you on your own, but my mum isn’t letting up. She kept saying I’ll be through in a week and then I can have my broom back. And, you know, my dignity.”
Harry snorted, but shrugged his shoulders. “I’ll be fine.”
Ron gave him a serious look, “Will you?”
“Yeah,” Harry said, plucking at Ron’s worn bedspread. “I’ve been on my own the last few weeks, seven days is nothing. Especially since I’m here.” He brightened. “Maybe your mum will let me help you.”
“Tried that,” Ron sighed. “That’s when she said I couldn’t ‘shirk my duties on someone else, especially poor Harry who needs to rest as much as possible’.”
Harry winced again and Ron froze.
“Sorry, mate, I didn’t mean-”
“It’s okay,” Harry said softly. “I’m okay, really. Like I said, at least I’m here and not in Surrey. Things can only get better, right?”
“Right,” Ron echoed. He started scratching again. “I gotta get going though. You know, gnomes to throw, dishes to wash.”
Harry didn’t look up. “All right.”
Rising with a fair amount of hesitation, Ron dawdled at the doorway. “You know, Ginny isn’t grounded.”
“You said that,” Harry said with a weak smile. “You know, with the laughing and pointing.”
“I didn’t say she was pointing… though I wouldn’t put it beneath her,” Ron paused as Mrs. Weasley’s voice drifted up the stairs, calling for him to return to tending the wash. He quickly added, “I’m just saying, you could hang out with her in the meantime. She’s not so bad.”
“I think I’ll stick around up here for now. Maybe tomorrow,” Harry offered, with no real conviction.
“Maybe,” Ron repeated. “See you later, then?”
Harry waved a hand in response and, as his friend’s footsteps thundered down the stairs, he flopped backwards on the bed. Okay, so the day had gotten worse after nearly squishing the youngest Weasley in the safety of her own home; a week without Ron’s company would be lonely, but at least an end was in sight. Sighing loudly, Harry stared up at the ceiling and wondered when things were going to finally get better.
Even though he’d finally settled on taking a nap, Harry’s course of action was rudely interrupted less than an hour later. It began with a strange, rhythmic thumping which quickly escalated into guitar riffs and a wailing voice. Eyes snapping open, Harry looked around for a source of the music but saw nothing that could explain it. It was only when he dropped his feet over the edge of the bed and felt the thumping go right into the soles of his feet that he realized it was coming from the room under Ron’s.
Ginny, no doubt, was having a good time in her room.
Not used to this sort of thing — really, Dudley was more into loud video games that ended sooner or later instead of loud music — Harry lay back on the pillows and waited for it to end. But when the first song quickly shifted into a second and then into a third, none of which got any softer, he found himself contemplating ways to convince Ginny to lower the volume. Should he be polite? Threatening? Pleading?
About the time the sixth song raised several decibels, Harry figured he’d decide when he saw her. It was an even bigger racket as he went down the flight of creaky stairs (not that he could hear them) and arrived at her door. The wood was vibrating from the pulsing music behind it, but Harry resolutely put up a fist and knocked on the door. And, judging by the change to an even louder seventh song, Ginny didn’t hear it.
“Ginny!” Harry called out and knocked on the door, harder this time. When he once again went unheeded, Harry considered leaving her alone entirely. Then again, he’d really enjoyed his nap…
Before his decision was made, the door swung open and Ginny gave him a surprised look. “Hey, Harry!” she yelled.
Eyebrows stitching together, Harry asked “Can you turn it down?”
She turned an ear towards him. “What?”
“CAN YOU PLEASE TURN IT DOWN?”
“Oh!” Ginny shrugged. “Sure!”
Leaving the door open, she strode across the room and turned a dial on her wireless. The ringing remained in Harry’s ears, but he was willing to live with that. He stood awkwardly in the doorway as Ginny continued to bounce to the muted music, her head bobbing every which way.
“Sorry I didn’t answer right away, I thought you were Ron,” she said.
“Er, what?”
“I thought you were Ron,” Ginny repeated as she fixed the quilt on her bed. “It drives him mad that I can play the wireless any time I want.”
“Oh,” Harry shifted from foot to foot. “Well, thanks. He’s actually downstairs, I was in his room.”
Ginny stopped and gave him a long look before bringing her hand to her mouth, “Oh, you were sleeping, weren’t you?”
“A bit,” Harry answered. He didn’t look at her and thought longingly of the bed only a floor above him. Heck, at this point, he’d lay down on Ginny’s if he had a chance.
“I’m really sorry,” Ginny said. “I figured you were out on your broom or something. It’s too nice of a day to be inside.”
“You’re inside,” Harry pointed out.
“Well, that’s because I already heckled Ron while he was hanging the wash and now he’s inside getting another load. Next I was going go flying just so he could see me out there.”
Harry stared at her and stuttered, “A-are you really that mean?”
Ginny stopped short and laughed. “Of course not. I just wouldn’t be a proper Weasley if I didn’t take the mickey out of him from time to time. It’s his own fault for being grounded an entire month.”
Without realizing it, Harry crossed his arms and leaned against the doorjamb. “You only got a week.”
“Yeah,” Ginny said with disgust. “I was rusty.” At Harry’s questioning look, she added, “Well, it’d been so long since I’d cried on cue. If I’d held out a little longer, I’m sure Mum would have caved.”
“Ginny!”
“What? We’re Weasley’s, Harry, we’ve got so many tricks up our sleeves, you can hardly bat an eyelash!” Exasperated, Ginny placed her hands on her hips and rolled her eyes at him. “Don’t look so shocked.”
Shaking his head, Harry couldn’t find a thing to say back to her.
“Anyway, time to torture Ron some more,” Ginny said flippantly. She reached under her bed and pulled up a battered broom. “Want to come with me?”
“To torture Ron? No, thanks,” Harry answered. “I think I’ll go lay down again.”
Ginny gave him a shrug and turned off the wireless completely before walking towards the door. “Have at it then, though you’re welcome to join me anytime.”
Harry just nodded and started walking towards the stairs, Ginny slightly behind him.
“Hey, Harry?”
He stopped, one foot on the bottom step of the stairs. Harry turned to Ginny, who was shoving her hair into a band. “Yeah?”
“You okay?” There was something about how she said it and it made Harry hesitate for a moment. It wasn’t filled with pity or sympathy, it was just… a question. His attempt to make heads or tails of it made the pause turn into a wide valley where neither of them said anything. Ginny finally asked, “Harry?”
“I’m fine,” Harry mumbled. He looked down at his feet and then back at her. “Mostly.”
Ginny nodded grimly, but said, “Like I said, you can come out any time.”
“I’ll remember that,” Harry said. “But I think I’ll sleep now.”
“Okay.” Ginny smiled slightly and waved. “Until then.”
Though he had every intention of making the most of Ron’s time away by sleeping in his much more comfortable bed, Harry stayed on the landing. He watched Ginny go down the stairs and then disappear out the door, his mind asking him if he really was fine. He doubted it, but it was the best he could do for now.
“Don’t tell Hermione, but I’d kill for a house elf right about now,” Ron announced as he collapsed on the sofa next to Harry. He stared sadly at his hands, which looked both dreadfully dry and pruny at the same time. Sighing loudly, he gave his friend a frustrated smile, “At least it’s only six days left now.”
Harry grinned back. The day hadn’t gone as badly as he’d expected; after talking to Ginny he’d gone back to Ron’s room and dived into his Mad Muggle comics. Then he discovered Ron’s own wireless and turned it on — albeit a good measure softer than Ginny had played hers — spending the rest of the afternoon pretending he was just another Weasley enjoying his summer vacation. From time to time he’d looked out the window and caught sight of Ginny flying on her broom and Ron shaking a fist at her when Mrs. Weasley wasn’t looking. Dumbledore had long before returned his broom to him, but Harry stamped down on the desire to go out there, preferring the solitude that was oddly more comfortable in this home than the Dursley’s.
Dinner had been a quiet affair (if you ignored the daggers Ron glared at his sister and Ginny’s innocent responses) and Mrs. Weasley had only patted his shoulder twice, which Harry figured was acceptable. She meant well, he knew, and if there was one person he refused to take his wayward temper on, it was Molly.
Dishes done, Ron finally had his one free hour before bedtime and he quickly convinced Harry to play a game of chess. They just started in setting up the pieces when Ginny strolled into the room, singing loudly at the top of her lungs. Ron openly cringed, “Blimey, Ginny, we’ve had enough of that today.”
Harry couldn’t help but agree, though he didn’t show it. Ginny could be… well, a lot of things, but a singer wasn’t one of them.
Ginny gave her brother a dirty look and stopped wailing, “It’s a far sight better than what you belt out in the shower, Ron.”
Coloring slightly, Ron retorted, “At least I only do it there and don’t torture anyone else around the house.”
“What do you think, Harry?” Ginny turned on him suddenly. “Who’d you rather hear?”
He ducked his head quickly and made a show of choosing a pawn to make his first move. “I’m… I don’t know a lot about music.”
“Bollocks,” Ginny snorted, but left it alone. She brought up another chair and sat to their side, contemplating the board. “That won’t do you any good, Harry.”
“Come on, Ginny, let us play,” Ron protested. He made his move and then looked up at her. “Don’t you have anything better to do than bug me all day?”
“Of course I do, but there’s only six days left, so I have to make the most of them,” Ginny said simply. Ron groaned and Harry chuckled softly. “Oh, Ron, you used to be so good, a master even. What happened?”
Harry looked up, “A master at what?”
Ginny jerked a thumb in Ron’s direction, “Who do you think taught me the crying trick?”
“Ron?” Harry stared at him in surprise. “You know how to cry on cue?”
“Well, I knew,” Ron mumbled. “Haven’t done it since I was ten, though. I got too old for it.”
“And it could have saved your hide.”
“Shut up, Ginny.”
Harry laughed and Ginny grinned at him. “Like I said, he deserved what he got. If he’d only dug a little deeper, he would have been done with the chores ages ago.”
Ron immediately protested, “But blokes just don’t do that!”
“Yeah, yeah, brother, you’re just mad I got away with it.”
“I have half a mind to turn you in, you know,” Ron shot back.
Harry looked back and forth between Ron and Ginny’s squabbling. It was different from what Ron usually got into with Hermione, it had less… tension and more humor in it. Though Ron openly threatened his younger sister, she only threw her head back in a chuckle and kicked him slightly in the shin; Ron responded by giving her ponytail a yank. Ginny then stole his queen and Harry could only stare mutely as they began to wrestle over it.
“You’re mad,” he finally said as they fell out of their seats. “Both of you.”
Ginny paused, once again flat on the floor as Ron stood up triumphant, his queen held high above his head. “No, we’re family.”
“Bow down, weakling!” Ron yelled.
“Never!” Ginny yelled back. She shoved Ron back and they returned to tumbling around the floor.
Looking at the board, Harry tried his best to make sense of what he was seeing. This was definitely a first; at school they hardly ever crossed paths with Ginny and now it was as if the Weasleys were falling into an age-old relationship. The thought made his stomach twist slightly. He never had that, not really, and a strange sadness settled over Harry even as Ginny and Ron shrieked with laughter and knocked over an end table.
He jumped up, “I’m going to bed.”
“What?” Ron stopped from what appeared to be his attempt to shove the queen up Ginny’s nose (both Ginny and the queen were screaming in protest). “Curfew’s not for another hour!”
“Yeah, but I’m still tired,” Harry said tightly. “Good night.”
Without waiting for their response, Harry strode from the room. As he started up the stairs, he could hear one last exchange.
Confusion was obvious in Ron’s question. “Blimey, what was that about?”
“I don’t know… but go, I’ll clean up in here.”
“Harry?”
He lay on his cot, staring at one of the posters on Ron’s wall. Though he could hear the concern in his friend’s voice, Harry pretended not to hear him.
“Harry, come on, I know you’re not asleep. What was that about?”
Damn. Harry grunted and shrugged. “I’m just tired.”
Ron didn’t answer for a while, choosing to change quickly and turn off the light before settling onto his bed. “Might as well go to sleep, too. Mum will be waking me up with the roosters.”
Not answering, Harry tugged a blanket up over his shoulders and watched as the outline of all the furniture became clear as his eyes adjusted to the darkness. Several minutes passed, all of which making him feel a little more foolish for his behavior. At last he said, “You and Ginny get along really well.”
“Well, she is my sister,” Ron answered immediately. He’d obviously been waiting for his friend to break the silence.
“You’re not like that at school, though.”
“Oh.” Ron paused. “Well, we were like that when we kids. For some reason we just went back to it this summer. Hermione says-”
He stopped and Harry turned his towards him. “Hermione said what?”
“Never mind.”
“Ron, come on.”
The bedsprings creaked loudly as Ron shifted uncomfortably. “Well, she just said we’ve, what’s the word, regressed? Yeah, we’ve regressed because of what happened, you know, last month. Like we’re trying to… reclaim our innocence or some shite like that.”
It was as if he’d been doused with icy water and Harry hugged his arms around him. “I see.”
“Which is bollocks,” Ron went on in a rush. “It’s just fun to be a kid now and then, right?”
“Right,” Harry said softly.
“I guess you and Dudley never did stuff like that, eh?”
“Well, there were punches, but they weren’t friendly,” Harry said dryly. “So that would be a ‘no’.”
Neither of them said anything after that and it as only after Ron’s snores started that Harry began to relax a bit. If he listened really hard, he could hear Ginny puttering around the floor beneath them and turn on her wireless, this time at a soft murmur. As sleep crept up on him, he thought with no little regret that it would have been nice to have someone to be a kid with, like Ron did.
He missed Sirius, no doubt about that, but there was a new ache now, something that said he’d been missing out on something else all along. We’re family, Ginny had said, and Harry had a feeling that was it.
Tucking a hand under his cheek, Harry’s last thought before sleep claimed him was that perhaps he’d go flying with Ginny after all.
A/N: And another piece begins. Updates will be slower on this one, but I’d love to hear what you have to say, both in reviews and (constructive) criticism. Thanks!
Also: The death is a looong time from now and I can tell you it's none of the main characters; I had to put it in per rules.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.
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