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Path Diverged II | ||||||
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Category: Alternate Universe, Post-HBP Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Nymphadora Tonks, Remus Lupin, Ron Weasley, Sirius Black Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Romance Warnings: Disturbing Imagery, Mental Abuse, Mild Language, Mild Sexual Situations Rating: PG-13 Reviews: 220 Summary: The Wizarding world finally knows that Lord Voldemort has returned, and the Second War has begun. As Harry prepares to enter his sixth year at Hogwarts, he is forced to deal with the trauma from his last encounter with Voldemort, the upcoming trial of Dolores Umbridge, Sirius's uncomfortable questions about his childhood, his budding relationship with Ginny Weasley, and the unknown shadow of what lies ahead as the "Chosen One" who must defeat Voldemort once and for all. This is an AU take of Half-Blood Prince following my previous story, Path Diverged. Hitcount: Story Total: 92599; Chapter Total: 3363 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: Can you believe it's taken a total of 19 chapters to cover just summer holidays? This was the last thing I expected when I sat down to start planning out this story, but here we are. Probably the only thing that could've made things go faster would've been not deviating from any POV besides Harry. I have no regrets, though. There's been a lot going on that deserved to be written about. This chapter has fluff, character development, and some main plot development, as well. Also, for this first scene, picture Ginny's hair being akin to the state of Anna's hair in the movie "Frozen." Enjoy! |
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Molly watched Ginny slouch down the stairs and drop into her seat at the kitchen table on the morning of her birthday. Harry and Sirius weren’t supposed to arrive for another hour, so Ginny hadn’t yet bothered to brush her hair or change from her pajamas. For all that Ginny was a bright, funny, and vivacious child, she was not in any way a morning person, the morning of Harry’s birthday eleven days earlier having been quite the exception. She differed from Molly in that way. Molly loved to get up early and watch the sun rise in the summertime before making breakfast for her children and husband. “Morning, Ginny,” she said quietly, setting a mug of tea before her daughter. Ginny grunted out something akin to a reply and seized the cup as she pushed her tangle of hair from her face. Molly felt a bit awful that she hadn’t warned Ginny about what was coming, but then, Sirius had begged, hadn’t he? The sound of the fireplace lighting up in the living room startled Ginny so much that she spilled a bit of her tea down her front. “Wait,” she said, “Mum, what time –?” “Where’s the birthday girl?” came Sirius’s loud voice. “Mum, they didn’t,” said Ginny, putting down the cup and pushing her hair away from her face again. Molly suppressed a smile. “I guess they’re early today, dear,” she said. “Mum, I’m – look at me!” hissed Ginny, brown eyes wide in panic. Sirius strode into the kitchen, and the twinkling in his eyes could have easily put Albus to shame, Molly thought. “There she is!” he bellowed joyfully, seizing Ginny in a firm hug. “Harry, I found her!” “Sirius, I haven’t even brushed my hair yet!” protested Ginny. “Harry, come and see what your future wife looks like first thing in the morning!” Sirius called loudly. Ginny pulled away, eyes darting wildly to the living room entrance, but nothing happened. There was a pause. “He’s not even awake yet, is he?” said Ginny, a scowl creeping over her face as she turned to Sirius. Harry’s godfather grinned unrepentantly. “I may have left him sleeping peacefully in his bed, yes.” Ginny’s scowl turned to a glare, and she smacked Sirius’s arm. “You owe me a proper birthday present after that scare!” she insisted. “Yes ma’am,” replied Sirius, rubbing his arm but continuing to grin. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, ladies, I need to wake up my godson and eat. I’ll be back before you know it, though!” He waved and returned to the living room. The sound of the fireplace lighting up sounded, and then silence fell. “You knew that was coming, didn’t you, Mum?” Molly pressed her lips together. “I’ve never seen Sirius beg for anything from me before,” she finally admitted. “I couldn’t resist!” “Nice to know where the prankster side of the family comes from,” sighed Ginny, slumping back into her seat and grabbing her mug of tea again. “I’d really like to eat and get ready after that scare.” “You don’t wish for Harry to see you like this?” asked Molly, unable to keep herself from grinning any longer. “It wouldn’t be the first time, you know,” she added, thinking of the morning a twelve-year-old Harry had first come to stay at her home and Ginny’s reaction at the time. “Don’t remind me,” moaned Ginny as she thumped her head onto the table. “I wish I could erase that moment from my mind.” Molly laughed, pushing a plate of eggs and toast toward her daughter. “If I know Harry, and I’m certain after this long I do, he probably looks back on that moment with a mixture of embarrassment and fondness.” Ginny peeked up at her through her tangled locks. “You think so?” she mumbled. “Absolutely,” said Molly firmly. “He loves you. Now eat up before your food gets cold, dear.” Ginny had eaten, brushed her hair, and changed into presentable clothes by the time Harry actually arrived, carrying a small box and barely remembering to hug Molly when he saw Ginny coming down the stairs. “Hey,” he said breathlessly with that joyful expression on his face, the sight of which never failed to bring tears to Molly’s eyes. He wrapped Ginny in his arms, and when she pulled away, she immediately reached for the package. “I want to open it now!” “I don’t even know if you’ll like it!” Harry told her, holding the box just out of reach. “I’ll decide that for myself, thanks!” It seemed Ginny was prepared to play dirty, because next second she dragged Harry’s mouth to hers and kissed him just until his arm had lowered enough that she could snatch the present away. “That’s cheating!” Harry told her with a laugh, but she just stuck her tongue out at him and sat down at the kitchen table as Hermione entered the kitchen, Ron ambling in slowly behind her, yawning loudly as his stomach rumbled loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Ginny was smiling the entire time she ripped the green wrapping off the box, plucked off the top, and dumped out what appeared to be a small jewelry box of some kind. Molly moved closer to see what was inside as Ginny prised the lid open. “Oh,” she breathed. “There wasn’t time to look for anything when we were at Diagon Alley the other day,” said Harry quickly, “so I had to get Sirius to find what I wanted. Is it… is it okay?” Fleur entered the kitchen just as Ginny carefully lifted up the thin, gold chain of a necklace with a small heart-shaped pendant. “I don’t know where Sirius got so many Muggle catalogues,” Harry rushed on before Ginny could say anything, “but I probably stared at them for hours until I went cross-eyed trying to figure out which one would even work for you and I – well, I thought…” “I love it,” said Ginny as Fleur moved closer to inspect the gift. “‘Arry, you are very zoughtful,” she proclaimed, and Ginny nodded. Even Molly found she couldn’t disagree with the words the French girl spoke. “Put it on me?” Ginny asked Harry, and he immediately moved forward as she stood up, nervously working the clasp open and carefully redoing it at the back of Ginny’s neck as she held her hair out of the way, the leather cord bracelet Ginny had gifted him for his birthday peeking out beneath his jacket sleeve. The necklace hung just below Ginny’s collarbone. Smiling, she tossed the box onto the table and threw her arms around Harry, kissing him again. It was so strange how seeing Fleur kiss her eldest son made Molly feel so very queasy, but watching her daughter kiss the boy she thought of as a seventh son only made her heart feel fit to burst with happiness. Harry had been lacking in friendship, family, and love when she had first met him almost five years ago at King’s Cross Station, but somehow, he had found all three within her own family. Molly chanced a look at Fleur and was surprised to see the blonde meet her gaze with a rather defiant expression on her exquisite face. She wasn’t sure what to make of it and quickly looked away. Was it too much to hope that Bill would figure out that he and Fleur had rushed into this relationship they had going far too quickly? Maybe they would both come to their senses before the wedding next summer. She desperately hoped so. She only wanted the best for her children. Sirius stared at the cover page of the Daily Prophet. “Shit!” he exclaimed without thinking. “What?” asked Harry from the other side of the table, forkful of food halfway between his plate and his mouth. “Why in the name of Merlin’s saggy left –” Sirius broke off with a groan as he rose to toss the newpaper in the kitchen fire. “Who the hell would dare…?” “What is it?” Harry asked, sounding more worried. Sirius paused, ready to chuck paper in the fire, and let out a sigh. The reality was that there was no good reason to hide this from his godson. “You remember how I named you as my heir?” he asked dully, turning around to face Harry. Harry nodded. “What about it?” “I insisted on discretion on the part of both Gringotts and the Ministry when I did that,” said Sirius, “but someone, somewhere went and leaked it to the press.” “Okay,” said Harry slowly. “So what exactly is the issue?” Sirius dropped back into his seat. “You mean apart from having you portrayed as the ‘heroic Chosen One and Hogwarts’s richest and most-eligible bachelor’?” Harry choked on his eggs. “What?” he spluttered, face turning an bright shade of red. “Thought that’d get your attention,” said Sirius, unable to stop himself from chuckling. “What troubles me, though,” he added, sobering quickly, “is they give an approximate value to what you stand to inherit that’s really not that far off from the truth.” “I’m not a bachelor!” said Harry, clearly not listening to Sirius. “I’m not even of age yet! Why would anyone think – that picture the reporter insisted on for her report of the trial, I was clearly holding Ginny’s hand!” “The article didn’t talk about your relationship, though,” said Sirius wryly. “I might have insisted on just sticking to the trial, to be honest.” “Do they really have nothing better to report?” Harry groaned. “No captures of important Death Eaters or anything like that?” “The Ministry has grown rather incompetent since your first defeat of Voldemort,” said Sirius with a scowl. “They’re probably trying to keep people happy somehow, and they think this is the way to do it.” “Make me out to be single so girls sniffing after my supposed ‘riches’ can bother me at school?” snorted Harry bitterly. “I’d much rather be ignored than fawned over or thought of as mental.” He stood and seized the newspaper from Sirius, taking in the headline and a photo taken of both himself and Sirius from the day Sirius had been declared innocent. HARRY POTTER HEIR TO BLACK FORTUNE “Disgusting, isn’t it?” sighed Sirius. “Anonymous sources can’t possibly be completely impossible to track down and –” “Do you think Ginny’s already seen this?” Harry cut him off, suddenly sounding worried. “Probably, Hermione doesn’t hesitate to share the worst the Prophet has to offer each day,” said Sirius. Immediately, Harry abandoned the paper and his breakfast, striding over to the fireplace mantle where the container of Floo Powder was located. “Harry, you know she isn’t going to believe the hogwash being published in this,” Sirius told him, but Harry was already grabbing a handful of the powder and throwing it into the fire. Sighing loudly, Sirius had no choice but to follow Harry through to the Burrow, arriving just in time to find Ginny reading the article out loud in a mock-salacioius voice. “‘… the Boy Who Lived, now suspected of being the Chosen One destined to save the Wizarding World from You-Know-Who, has yet to be spotted in a long-term relationship, something his fellow classmates at Hogwarts should take notice of. “He probably just hasn’t found the right witch yet,” says Witch Weekly columnist Patricia Blatherwurst. “It can be difficult to find love when you are also famous and rich, but I’m sure there’s a lovely girl out there he has yet to meet and commit to.”’ “‘Given the incredible history of Harry Potter’s defeat of You-Know-Who, his bravery in speaking out about the return of the infamous Dark wizard when no one else believed him, the events at the Ministry this past June which revealed the return of You-Know-Who to the world, his heroic testimony against Dolores Umbridge, and this new information about the inheritance he’s set to gain from his godfather, Sirius Black, this young man is clearly the catch of the century.’” Ginny looked up at Harry, smirking. “‘Catch of the century,’ Harry? I didn’t realize just how fanciable you really are.” “Wait, read the part calling him a ‘bachelor’ again,” said Bill, grinning wickedly as Harry flushed red. “Bill, be nice to ze poor boy!” said Fleur, lightly smacking his shoulder, but looking amused rather than angry. “Right? This from the bloke who was determined to be a bachelor until Fleur showed up in his life,” said Ron with raised eyebrows. “Really, though,” said Hermione, “hasn’t the Daily Prophet already given people more than enough reason to stare and fawn over Harry?” “Personally,” said Ginny loudly, “I can’t wait to see how many hearts I break when everyone at Hogwarts realizes Harry and I are still together.” The room exploded with laughter. Sirius clapped an embarrassed Harry on the shoulder and said, “I bet you’re regretting skipping breakfast to be with this lot now, aren’t you?” “You skipped breakfast?” came Molly’s voice from the kitchen. She bustled in. “We cannot have that, Harry, I still have leftovers you can eat. Come along now, dear.” And she guided a beet-red Harry from the room, Ron following in search of additional food. “To be honest,” said Ginny, watching Harry vanish from sight, “I think it’s completely ridiculous, this load of tripe they decided to publish.” She stepped around Sirius to toss the newspaper into the fire. She stared at the curling and blackening pages for a few moments before adding, “The people who buy into this are the sort who don’t see just Harry.” A moment later, Harry reappeared, striding over to Ginny, spinning her around, and giving her a firm kiss without warning. “You do, though,” he told her, smiling through his flushed cheeks, and then he returned to the kitchen with a bit of a spring in his step that hadn’t been there before. Bill gaped after him as Fleur hid a smile behind her hand. “And that,” said Sirius in an attempt to fill the surprised silence that followed Harry’s exit, “was probably the most perfect mix of James and Lily I’ve ever seen.” Ginny grinned, cheeks pink, but she looked quite pleased. Sirius chuckled and headed into the kitchen in search of food, as well. “I don’t recognize this rune,” Ginny told Hermione in frustration one evening after Harry had left. “I’ve been searching through the book for a solid twenty minutes and I can’t figure out which one it is!” Hermione, having just stepped inside the bedroom, sighed and sat down in the chair next to Ginny’s desk. Ginny had been working on her summer homework with increasing fervor in the evenings after Harry would leave with Sirius for Grimmauld Place. Harry had helped with her Charms and Transfiguration homework, but Ancient Runes was Hermione’s speciality. Ginny enjoyed Ancient Runes quite a bit. She’d taken up the subject third year because Bill had taken it, and he had spoken highly of the class in their letters prior to making her choices second year. Charlie had all but insisted she take Care of Magical Creatures, no matter that Ron said she would live to regret it. Hagrid was, in her opinion, an enthusiastic teacher who wanted others to love magical creatures as much as he did. His methods weren’t always the smartest, but Ginny enjoyed his classes, regardless. Well, when he wasn’t moping or terrified of losing his job, anyway. “I recognize the cross part here,” said Ginny as Hermione settled next to her, “but it’s this piece at the top that’s giving me issues.” Hermione never gave Ginny the answers, but she did carefully talk Ginny through the shape of the particular rune until it finally clicked. “Ehwaz,” she sighed at last. “That’s what it is.” “Well done,” said Hermione, beaming. “I knew you’d get it.” Ginny grinned at her friend before noticing a copy of the Evening Prophet in her hands. Her grin faded. “Is it bad news?” she asked quietly. Hermione looked down at the newspaper and sighed. “Another dementor attack,” she said. “In Highgate. Just a few miles away from my parents at best.” She leaned back against her chair, looking withdrawn as she stared out Ginny’s bedroom window. “You know the Order’s making sure they’re safe,” offered Ginny quietly. “I know, but it worries me, regardless.” Ginny nodded. “There’s only so much they can do,” she said, “but there’s also only so much we can do, as well.” “I wish I could do more, though,” admitted Hermione. “I keep thinking they’d be safer if they left the country altogether.” “They wouldn’t leave without you,” Ginny pointed out. “I know,” said Hermione. “And I’m not about to abandon any of you.” “So we’re all stuck with each other, then,” said Ginny, grinning a bit despite the seriousness of the conversation. Hermione snorted softly, then sobered, staring at the newspaper in her hands again. “It’s going to get much worse before it gets better,” she said softly. Ginny nodded. “Everything rests on Harry being able to defeat Voldemort,” she said. “We know he’s not ready.” “Those lessons he’ll have with Dumbledore will change that,” said Hermione. “But it’s a lot for one person’s shoulders.” “Cute shoulders, though,” said Ginny, grinning when Hermione rolled her eyes. “I forget, you’re more partial to lanky shoulders covered in freckles than proper shoulders.” “Will you keep your voice down!” hissed Hermione, swatting Ginny’s shoulder. “Why are you so unwilling to make the first move, anyway?” said Ginny with raised eyebrows. “I don’t even know if he does fancy me,” said Hermione. “He’s only ever shown interest in Fleur.” “Phlegm doesn’t count,” said Ginny dismissively. “It’s that stupid Veela thing more than it is her.” “But he –” “Is my thick-headed brother, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’d just go and say ‘no’ to you,” Ginny cut Hermione off. “Look, every time he acts a total prat around Phlegm, he always seems to realize it. I think that means there’s hope for him, and for you.” “I don’t know…” “I can always ask –” “How many times have I told you,” Hermione cut Ginny off, “that we are not bringing Harry into this? We don’t even know if they ever talk about relationships or the like!” “Because you won’t let me figure it out!” Ginny retorted, turning in her seat to fully face the older girl. “I’m telling you, though, there are definite signs Ron is interested.” Hermione shot Ginny a thoroughly disbelieving look. “Such as?” “The way he acted after I spilled the beans about you and Victor snogging, for one,” said Ginny at once. “Classic sign of bothered and potentially jealous Ronald.” “He was upset you called him out for never having had a relationship at all,” said Hermione dismissively. “You were ruthless with him that day.” “I had every right to be,” Ginny stated firmly. “Acting like a grossed-out twelve-year-old every time –” “You’re his sister, and you’re kissing his best friend,” said Hermione pointedly. “Remember he gave his stamp of approval minus visible signs of snogging the day after Harry and I first kissed?” Ginny reminded Hermione. “Ron had nothing good to say about Michael, and surely you remember Bill tracking me down after Mum’s talk about safe relationships demanding to know what made Michael even worth my time! Or how about Fred and George begging to test out their products on him? Or Charlie’s letter demanding Michael prove himself a worthy partner or face his dragon-backed wrath?” “All right, all right, I get it,” said Hermione, sounding annoyed. “I still don’t think Ron will ever see me as more than his know-it-all friend.” Ginny rolled her eyes. She needed proof, something concrete to convince Hermione that she could take the risk with her brother. Of course, Ron had started shaping up and maturing somewhat over the summer break. She knew at least a part of it had to do with supporting Harry through his recovery and healing, but there was something else at play that she couldn’t put her finger on. “I look forward to the day I get to say ‘I told you so,’ Hermione.” She turned back to her homework. “Okay, one last translation and then I’ll be finished. You’ll check them over for me?” “Of course,” said Hermione. “I… I hope you realize that I want you to be right, Ginny. I just don’t see how it’s possible.” “Not the first time you’ve said that,” muttered Ginny before she could stop herself. Hermione went stiff next to her. “We are not going there, Ginny.” “I don’t know how not to go there, Hermione,” Ginny shot back heatedly. “I think Harry’s right about Malfoy, you and Ron don’t, and I’m waiting for the day we have to proof so I can firmly tell you ‘I told you so.’” Hermione sighed and stood. “I’ll let you get back to work,” she said stiltedly, completely bypassing everything Ginny had just said. “Come find me when you’ve finished, all right?” She left the bedroom quickly, leaving Ginny to scowl after her. “Harry’s right,” she muttered angrily. “We’ll show them.” She threw herself into her work and finished her last translation, taking it downstairs to spot Bill and Fleur by the fire, Hermione sitting nearby with her nose buried in her new Potions book. “Bill,” said Ginny loudly, “you wouldn’t mind taking a quick look at this translation I just finished for Ancient Runes, would you?” Hermione started and opened her mouth. “I mean, you do use runes in a very practical, every day manner with your job at Gringotts and all,” Ginny went on before Hermione could speak. “Sure,” said Bill, smiling at Ginny and holding his hand out for his work. “You are a wonderful brozzer, Bill,” said Fleur in that sickeningly-sweet voice that made Ginny want to vomit. “Did you choose zis class because of ‘im, Ginny?” Ginny nodded silently, ignoring Hermione stiffly watching her as Bill looked over her work. “He convinced me to take Ancient Runes, and Charlie convinced me to take Care of Mgaical Creatures.” “With ‘Agrid?” said Fleur with raised eyebrows. “I do not remember ‘earing good zings about ‘im when I attended ‘Ogwarts for ze tournament. Zose Blast-Ended Skrewts ‘e created did not seem zee good actions of a proper teacher.” “Hagrid is rather enthusiastic about magical creatures,” said Bill, chuckling a bit as he continued to look over Ginny’s work. “He and Charlie would spend hours talking about dragons and the like, I’d have to drag him back to Gryffindor Tower before curfew when they really got into it.” “But ‘e does not seem a responsible teacher to me,” pressed Fleur. “I ‘eard about zee incident with the ‘Ippogriff –” “Malfoy provoked Buckbeak,” Ginny cut her off sourly. “It wasn’t even that bad of an injury,” said Ron as he entered the living room from the kitchen, carrying a small container of licorice wands. “He made out he had almost died, but dropped the act the moment it served his best interests. Stupid git,” he added with a scowl as he dropped down on the couch next to Hermione. “Licorice wand?” he offered her, but she shook her head and Ron shrugged, pulling one out and biting off half of it in one go. “Hagrid’s enthusiasm is part of what makes him a good teacher,” said Ginny firmly to Fleur. “You aiming for a N.E.W.T. in his class, then?” asked Ron incredulously. “I’m glad to be done with that class.” “I don’t know yet,” said Ginny honestly. “The only thing I’m interested in doing is playing Quidditch.” “You can’t expect to make that happen right away, though,” said Hermione. “It’s important to have a back-up plan, I’ve read it’s very difficult to get signed to a team. It’s the same with Muggle sports, to be honest.” “Just wait til you see me play Chaser this year,” said Ginny firmly. “I’ll be in my element, then.” “Looks good, Gin,” said Bill suddenly, holding out Ginny’s homework. “I expect you’ll get top marks on this.” “Thank you,” said Ginny, taking the parchment back and smiling at her eldest brother. “What if you don’t make the team?” Hermione pressed Ginny intently. Ginny raised her eyebrows. “First of all, Harry will be a fair judge of who does and doesn’t make the team,” she said. “Secondly, I know how good I am, and I bet you my entire year’s allowance that I outfly the competition at the tryouts.” Bill whistled. “Better consider what you say next, Hermione,” he said with a grin. “Ginny is not the kind of girl to doubt herself or underestimate what she’s capable of.” Ginny raised her eyebrows at Hermione, who sighed and shook her head. “I’m going to bed,” she told everyone and quickly left. “Now you’ve gone and done it,” said Ron as Hermione disappeared from view. “She’ll still be in a right mood tomorrow.” “She eez very uptight,” said Fleur. “I do not zink I ‘ave seen ‘er relaxed since the Yule Ball two years ago. Maybe she needs to get back een touch with Viktor.” Ron’s ears turned red as he stiffened on the couch. “They still write to each other on occasion,” said Ginny, carefully watching Ron for a reaction. “As do we,” said Fleur. “Viktor will be coming to zee wedding, of course.” “As he should,” said Ginny. “He was always very polite to Harry and quite the gentleman with Hermione.” “I’m tired,” said Ron abruptly, straightening and leaving the room without another word. “Any other buttons you want to push with your brother or friend tonight, Gin?” said Bill with raised eyebrows. “Hermione already knows how determined I am to play Quidditch,” said Ginny with a scowl. “And the more proof I have that Ron fancies Hermione, the better for them both.” “You zink your brozzer is fit to be in a relationship with ‘Ermione?” said Fleur, sounding surprised. “You realize ‘e eez very immature compared to ‘er. ‘Ermione would be much better off with someone ‘oo eez going to treat ‘er with the kindess and respect she eez deserving of.” “And you don’t think Ron can be that person?” asked Ginny skeptically, not quite believing she was about to defend Ron at all. “Have you not watched the way he’s supported Harry’s healing this summer?” “Zat is different,” said Fleur dismissively. “I disagree,” said Ginny stoutly. “Ron tries so hard not to react to you, you know.” “Eet would be easier for ‘im if ‘e cares for ‘Ermione as much as you seem to zink ‘e does,” returned Fleur with raised eyebrows. “Ze way ‘Arry barely spares me a glance eez proof of ‘ow much ‘e loves you, Ginny.” “Love is different from fancying someone,” said Ginny firmly. “Besides, Hermione fancies Ron already, so it’s not up to us to say whether or not he’s worthy of her, is it?” Fleur eyed Ginny for a long moment before turning to Bill. “What do you zink, Bill?” she asked him. Bill shrugged. “If he does fancy Hermione, he’ll figure it out on his own,” he said at length. “Anyway, I’ve got to head into the office early tomorrow. Come on, Fleur.” They rose, bid Ginny a good night, and left the room, leaving Ginny to her thoughts as she stared at the fire. She couldn’t help but think Bill knew something she didn’t. Did Ron fancy Hermione like she suspected? Did Bill know about it? Sighing, Ginny eventually rose and returned to her room, unsurprised to find Hermione already in bed and clearly feigning sleep. Not in the mood to further irritate the other girl, Ginny simply set about turning in for bed herself. It was sometime after Hermione’s breathing evened out before sleep finally claimed her. Even though Grimmauld Place was closer to King’s Cross Station, for safety reasons, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley arranged for the Ministry cars to pick them up from the Burrow on the morning of September first. Harry and Sirius were going to spend the night at the Burrow so they could all be ready to go when the cars arrived. Harry pulled Ginny out to one of their lesser-used hiding places to relax in the shade. Harry had already packed (he secretly told Ginny well out of earshot of Hermione that Kreacher had actually done most of the packing this time), and Ginny claimed to be desperate for a break from packing up her trunk because of Hermione’s methodical organizing, which apparently included constantly muttering under her breath about what she needed to pack up and how. “I love her, but it drives me a bit barmy at times,” Ginny confided in him. Harry grinned at her as they relaxed under the shade of the trees they’d found on the north edge of the property. “If it helps, I actually spent a solid ten minutes trying to convince Ron to at least separate the books from the clothes while he looked at me like I’d grown a second head.” Ginny laughed. “I thought you knew better by now,” she told him. Harry shrugged against the grass. “I mean, I’m not always that much better, but if push comes to shove, I can organize. Who do you think organized the tool shed at the Dursleys?” “To your aunt’s satisfaction?” asked Ginny, eyebrows raised as she turned on her side to look down at him. “You were never good enough for them…” Ginny placed her hand on Harry’s chest, refocusing him at once. “You learn to be satisfactory if you don’t want to get hit or locked up,” he finally answered, forcing himself to hold Ginny’s gaze. “I mean, I tried really hard to be good enough, but I could never figure out why…” “Why it was never enough,” Ginny whispered. Harry nodded. “I figured it out once Hagrid told me I was a wizard and how my parents had really died,” he admitted. “Aunt Petunia… I’d never seen her like that before, just – ranting away about my mum, calling her a freak… She said their parents thought my mum was something special, but she could see right through her.” “Which clearly meant she thought just as little of you,” sighed Ginny. Reaching out, her fingers lightly traced over his scar. Harry had never let anyone else touch it, but with Ginny… it was just different, somehow. “Tell me about the cupboard,” she suddenly said. Harry blinked, surprised. After discovering the truth about Harry’s rooming situation growing up, Ginny had been rather tight-lipped on that particular topic. Even Ron and Hermione stayed away from it unless Harry himself brought it up, which was almost never. He’d already told Sirius and Remus the worst of it, and that had been quite enough at the time. “You wrote on the door,” Ginny continued softly. “You claimed it as your own. How old were you when you did that?” “I… I think I was about seven,” answered Harry quietly. “Dudley had broken some crayons, and I fished them out of the rubbish bin when Aunt Petunia wasn’t looking. I just thought – well, nothing was really mine, but in a way, the cupboard was.” “It only locks from the outside.” Harry nodded. “It’s always been like that. If I’d done some accidental magic, or said something that upset Dudley… sometimes I’m not sure what I did, but they’d send me in and lock the door so I couldn’t try to escape.” He snorted and added bitterly, “Not that I had anywhere I could really go to. But they didn’t always lock it, and on those nights I’d sneak out late at night after they’d gone to bed to find something to eat. Scraps leftover in the bin, usually. Aunt Petunia does a nightly wipe-down of the kitchen and takes stock of all the food, though, so sometimes I just…” “Starved.” “Yeah.” Ginny was still lightly tracing his face, eyes intent on her task. “There’s a tiny white scar here by your chin,” she said. “Harry Hunting,” was all Harry could offer on that one. “Did you ever miss days at your Muggle school?” “A lot,” sighed Harry. “Aunt Petunia would just call me in sick, and I’d only get to leave the cupboard on those days to use the bathroom or eat a quick meal for the day.” “Just one?” “If I was lucky, yeah.” “I guess that’s why you were so short and skinny for your age,” sighed Ginny sadly. “Hermione calls it malnutrition.” “I always thought of starving children in Africa when people would say that word,” Harry told her. “I couldn’t ever conceptualize the idea that it could happen anywhere else.” He grinned. “I think this is the first summer since starting at Hogwarts that I’ve actually gained more weight than I’ve lost.” “Believe me, Mum was about ready to throw a parade when she saw how healthy you looked wearing clothes that actually fit back on your birthday,” said Ginny with a grin of her own. “I just wish it could have always been that way. It’s not fair to you.” Harry shrugged, not sure how to respond. For him, it just was. It couldn’t be changed. “Did you ever get sick as a child? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you with so much as a cold.” Harry shook his head. “I got food poisoning once, but I can’t really recall ever being sick.” That had been an unpleasant experience Harry wished never to think about again. “Seems contradictory given you were regularly starved,” sighed Ginny. “Must’ve been your innate magic or something keeping you safe from common Muggle illnesses.” It was strange how infrequently land mines were set off by the things Ginny said, things that would have set him off had it been anyone else. Something about Ginny had diffusing properties, he supposed. Not that he was complaining. Today had been a relatively flashback-free day, though he worried what his mind would be like once he was again immersed in the hustle and bustle of Hogwarts again. “I know last year was difficult for you, Harry,” said Ginny abruptly, “but this year we understand how to help you. We cared, but we had no idea how to help you before.” “You always helped,” admitted Harry quietly. “I know I – that I apologized for not asking you about being possessed, but I…” He trailed off, trying to figure out how to explain it, and Ginny waited patiently, fingers gently running through his hair. “I was really lost this past year,” Harry finally said. “I could barely see past my own anger and fear most of the time. It felt like all those times I tried explaining to my relatives that I couldn’t explain the weird things that kept happening – the accidental magic I’d done – but they never believed me.” He swallowed, and forced himself to continue. “Whenever I’d think about what happened in the Chamber, it always came down to fighting a basilisk and saving you, and not so much the other details, because knowing what he'd been doing to you all year was… I don't know that anything else has ever been as horrifying to me as that realization, and I hated thinking about what almost happened. When it was announced that you’d been taken… it was the worst day of my life.” “Really?” asked Ginny softly, brown eyes wide as she continued to lean over him. Harry nodded. “I know I didn’t know you all that well back then, but I don’t think that saving you was just about you being Ron’s sister.” He paused, considering how best to put his thoughts into words. “I was still figuring out what love was back then,” he finally said, reaching up to brush a lock of red hair from Ginny’s face. “I think it was always there, but I didn’t understand it for a long time.” “And I didn’t give you enough opportunities to figure it out sooner,” said Ginny wryly. Harry shrugged. “Does it really matter at this point?” he asked. Ginny snorted. “I guess not,” she said, fingers now absently playing with the necklace he’d given her for her birthday, a light breeze ruffling her hair and enveloping Harry in that familiar flowery scent he’d come to associate with Ginny’s comforting presence. They didn’t speak for some time, and Ginny flopped back onto her back to stare up at the sky through the tree branches above them. “Do you think we’ll really be safe this year?” she asked. “I mean – if you’re right that Malfoy is really a Death Eater now, doesn’t that put us at risk?” “I don’t know,” answered Harry honestly. “I want to know what he’s up to, but I also don’t want to do anything that could put me in Voldemort’s path before I know what the hell I’m even supposed to do. And I definitely don’t want you in harm’s way, either.” “So maybe we keep an eye on him, but from a distance as much as possible,” said Ginny thoughtfully. “We can track him using the map and see if he goes anywhere suspicious and meets with anyone that shouldn’t be at Hogwarts.” Harry nodded. “I think that could work,” he agreed. “I just wish that Ron and Hermione agreed with us.” It was incredibly frustrating that neither of his best friends thought that Malfoy could be a Death Eater. Yes, Malfoy was only sixteen, but Harry knew that Sirius’s brother had joined at that age, so wasn’t out of the realm of possibility. There was something going on there, and he was determined to figure it out. Really, what rankled him the most was the realization that Ron and Hermione didn’t think he was quite up to snuff because of the state of his mind. Hadn’t he proved himself at Umbridge’s trial? Yes, he was still healing, but that didn’t take away from his ability to think, to make connections from small clues, to see what was obviously going on! “We just need more proof,” said Ginny. “Don’t worry, Harry, we’ll figure this out together, I promise you.” Ginny’s trust and belief was a relieving balm in the face of Ron and Hermione’s overwhelming worry and disbelief. When they finally returned inside, it was to find Fleur sitting at the kitchen table, in full flow about plans for her wedding to Bill, while Mrs. Weasley kept watch over a pile of self-peeling sprouts, looking bad-tempered. “… Bill and I ‘ave almost decided on only two bridesmaids, Ginny and Gabrielle will look very sweet togezzer.” She looked up at Harry and smiled brightly at him. “I am theenking of dressing zem in pale gold – pink would of course be ‘orrible with Ginny’s ‘air –” “You can say that again,” said Ginny, looking consternated over actually agreeing with the French girl. “I hate pink.” “Pale gold does go well with your necklace, as well,” said Fleur, “wouldn’t you agree, ‘Arry?” Slightly startled, Harry glanced at Ginny. “She would look great in anything,” he finally said. “Well, I guess not pink –” Ginny lightly swatted his arm with a grin. “I have your clean clothes right here, Ginny,” said Mrs. Weasley, striding over with a pile of freshly laundered robes and placing them in Ginny’s outstretched arms. “Go finish packing, dear. Harry, I would love your help with cutting up the carrots for dinner tonight.” Ginny sighed and strode away up the stairs as Sirius ambled in from the living room, head buried in a letter. “Remus says hello,” he said vaguely as he sat down by Fleur at the kitchen table. “I thought it wasn’t safe for him to owl from where he’s at,” said Harry, taking the knife Mrs. Weasley offered him and getting to work on chopping up the carrots she’d directed him to. “I’ve got Kreacher discreetly managing communications,” said Sirius with a dismissive wave of his hand. “It’s doing wonders for Tonks’s nerves, if nothing else.” “I am glad that Remus is able to communicate with ‘er,” said Fleur, looking up from her wedding notes. “Tonks was starting to let ‘erself go before you set zat up.” “Will Tonks be part of the Aurors tomorrow when we go to King’s Cross?” asked Harry. “No,” said Sirius, “she’s going to be stationed in Hogsmeade, I think, make sure every student disembarks safely.” Ron came down with an armful of dirty school robes. “Cutting it close, kid,” said Sirius as Mrs. Weasley quickly rushed over to collect the laundry from her son. “Hey, it’s not the last minute, though,” said Ron with a grin. “I’ve got pretty much everything else packed, Mum.” “Good,” said Mrs. Weasley, “then you can help Harry cut the vegetables for dinner.” Harry smirked at the scowl on Ron’s face and made room at the cutting board. “Did you at least separate your clean clothes from the books?” he asked innocently. “Shut it,” grumbled Ron, bumping his shoulder into Harry’s as he grabbed another knife to start cutting. After a delicious supper, Harry caught Ginny before she could head up with Hermione. “Maybe we should talk to Sirius about Malfoy,” he told her quietly, and she nodded her agreement. They located him and quickly described their worries to him. “It’s possible,” said Sirius slowly as Arthur settled down next to him the living room. “You know Regulus was sixteen when he joined of his own volition, and I could see Voldemort forcing Malfoy to join up and do something stupid in retribution for Lucius failing to get the prophecy back in June. Although,” he added with a sharp look at them, “the real question is, when did you have time to figure out that Malfoy wanted something to be held for him at Borgin and Burkes?” Harry hesitated, glancing at Ginny. Sirius sighed. “You two are something else,” he said, shaking his head with a wry grin. “Harry, you weren’t in the back room with Ron and Hermione the whole time Molly was drilling me about the map, were you?” “I knew they’d tell you eventually,” said Arthur with a small smile. “You knew?” said Harry, surprised. “Harry, please. You’re talking to the man who raised Fred and George.” Arthur’s smile grew larger. “Ginny, you were a bit too obvious in keeping us from looking for the others.” Ginny shrugged unrepentently. “I’ll just have to up my game next time,” she said. “I’m sure I’ll have plenty of chances to practice this year.” Arthur sighed and rubbed at his face wearily as Sirius laughed. “Maybe you and Molly ought to have been dreading the day these two got together,” he told the older man, clapping him on the shoulder and leaning back in his seat. “So, you want us to see if we can figure out what he was having held in Borgin and Burkes,” he said to Harry and Ginny. “Yes,” Ginny said quickly. “Harry and I talked about using the map at school to check and see if Malfoy does anything he shouldn’t be doing.” “I like that,” said Sirius, nodding his head, “but if something fishy happens, Harry, don’t go charging in. Use the mirror so we can decide together what to do next. I don’t like that you wandered off to follow him when our goal is to keep you safe.” Harry nodded his agreement, pleased to see Sirius doing his best to be the guardian he’d promised to be, but also feeling ashamed of himself for the rash choice he’d made in the heat of the moment. He resolved to do better because Sirius’s trust meant that much to him. When Harry and Sirius retired to Fred and George’s old bedroom that night, Harry felt a strange mixture of excitement and trepidation. He loved Hogwarts, but seeing Sirius every day, the freedom he’d had this summer… Is this what it’s like to be a part of a family? He rather hoped it was, and the feeling that came over him at the thought seemed to keep the nightmares at bay that night. |
| Reviews 220 |
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