The Broom Thief
“Sirius, come back!”
Harry Potter woke up startled and breathing heavily. His pyjama shirt was soaked through with sweat. It had been two weeks since his last dream of Sirius falling through the veil, but that streak was now broken. He reached for the eyeglasses on the nightstand and looked around Fred and George’s former room to catch his bearings. Harry cursed and fell back on the bed to look up at the ceiling. He turned his head to look at the clock on the nightstand and saw that it was 4:20 AM.
It was late August, and it had been the hottest day in forty years in England. The night wasn’t much better. The oppressive heat was stifling. He looked towards the window, which was letting beams of silver moonlight into the room, and noticed it was eerily silent outside. Not a leaf was moving on the trees around the Burrow. Harry closed his eyes, trying to force himself to sleep, but after five minutes he realised there was no way he could fall asleep again, at least not for another hour.
He got up, trying not to make any noise, and walked toward the window. On the way, he stubbed his small toe against one of the boxes left behind by the twins and cursed under his breath. He hopped the rest of the way on one leg until he reached the windowsill and peeked outside. Some clouds were in the sky, but the full moon was shone brightly. Nothing was stirring. He could see the broom shed from the window, the same shed, where four weeks earlier, Dumbledore had congratulated him on how well he was coping with the events at the Ministry. Impulsively, decided to go for a fly around the Burrow to get some relief from the heat.
Harry grabbed his wand and put it in his pyjama pants pocket. He walked on his tiptoes out of the room and made his way down the stairs from the second floor, avoiding the creakier of the wooden steps along the way. He was extra careful to be silent when he went by the first-floor landing and passed Ginny’s bedroom, where the redhead and Hermione slept. After finally stepping outside, he let out a sigh of relief and walked briskly to the broom shed.
When Harry reached for the door handle, he froze. The door was slightly ajar, and he automatically pulled his wand out of his pocket. He slowly turned around with his eyes peeled for any movement until he faced the door again. He pushed it open and was relieved that no one was in there. Ron probably left the door open after storing their brooms the previous afternoon. They had tried to play some two-a-side Quidditch with Ginny and Hermione, but the scorching sun made them give up after just a few minutes.
Harry reached for the spot where he had left his Firebolt earlier, but it wasn’t there. His heart started beating like a drum. He searched frantically in the small shed, but there was no sign of his broom. The Firebolt had been a gift from Sirius, and he didn’t care if he had to wake everybody up in the Burrow; he was determined to organise a search. He was approaching the house's front door when he heard some noise in the distance and stopped in his tracks. He tightened the grip on his wand and peeled his ears for the slightest sound. After a few seconds, he heard the noise again. It was coming from the direction of the pond. It sounded like water splashing.
Harry’s senses were on high alert. He headed toward the pond, leading with the tip of his wand. As he approached, the sound of splashing water became more pronounced. Someone was swimming in the pond, but his view was obstructed by the oak tree trunk next to the swimming hole. When he moved from behind the tree trunk, he got a very brief glimpse of a creamy white and shapely bum disappearing under the dark water. A head emerged swimming away from him, and although the wet hair looked black in the semi-darkness, the person swimming was unmistakably Ginny Weasley. Her bare back and shoulders had a smattering of freckles.
“Ginny,” Harry called out.
The youngest Weasley whipped around, and she let out a terrified shriek. She sank into the pond and left only her head above water as she wrapped her arms protectively around her chest under the surface. She was staring at him with her mouth open and a terrified expression. Her mouth moved, trying to say something, but no words came out.
Harry saw with relief that his Firebolt was leaning against the oak tree's trunk. Only then did he remember the story of how Ginny had sneaked out at night to fly on her brother’s brooms since she was six years old. That fact was the explanation for why she turned out to be a Quidditch sensation when Harry was hit with a lifetime ban by Umbridge, and she took over his place as Gryffindor Seeker.
Next to the Firebolt, Harry saw her pyjamas strewn on the ground and he smiled evilly. Very deliberately, he walked to the tree, and sat down against the trunk without taking his eyes away from Ginny. He picked up her pyjama pants, shirt and wand, but kept looking for a missing piece of clothing. He stood up to make sure he hadn’t sat down on it, but there was no sign of this garment, so he sat down again.
“What are you doing, Harry?” Ginny asked, alarmed. “Put my clothes down.”
“Don’t you wear knickers when you sleep?” Harry asked, honestly intrigued. “It didn’t seem like you are wearing any just now.”
Her jaw dropped even more. “How long have you been watching. Did you see me naked?” she asked with a combination of horror and fury.
Unbidden, the image of her shapely bum disappearing under the water came to his mind’s eye. He composed himself and chuckled. “Not really.”
“What do you mean by not really?” she asked sceptically.
He let her sweat it out momentarily, but then he gave her a sincere look. “Nothing on the front side, but for a second, I did see your bum. That’s all, I swear.”
Even in the semi-darkness, her face turned visibly red. Her eyes scrutinised him intensely, judging his veracity, but then her gaze softened. “Are you sure?”
“Of course, I’m sure,” he chuckled. “I think I would remember if I did,” he added.
Harry was sure he would never forget the vision of her magnificent wet bum gleaming in the moonlight.
“Promise?” she asked weakly.
“I give you my word of honour.”
Ginny thought maybe she was being naïve, but she firmly believed that she could take Harry’s word of honour to Gringotts Bank and get a million Galleons in return. Harry seeing her bare bum was bloody embarrassing, but it was a huge relief he hadn’t seen more.
“So, now what?” Ginny asked with trepidation.
“Now you will learn that you shouldn’t take other people’s property without their permission.”
Harry got up with her pyjamas and wand in one arm and his Firebolt in the other. He stood tall and looked directly at her without saying a word. Ginny sank even deeper into the pond until the water was just below her eyes. Harry turned towards the Burrow and started to walk in that direction.
“Harry… you wouldn’t… I beg you… please come back!” she called desperately after him.
Instinctively, she had taken a few steps forward and risen a little, but then Harry stopped and turned around. He gasped when he noticed her starting to emerge from the water, but she stopped herself just in time and sank back into the water before revealing the most exciting parts.
The petite redhead turned beet red. “I swear I’ll murder you if you leave me here naked,” she said, glowering at him.
Harry composed himself while the image of her cleavage danced in his mind. He walked a few steps back, dropped her clothes and wand a couple of feet from the pond's edge, and sat down against the tree, facing her.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she asked furiously.
“I do believe you might murder me, so I’m putting your things down.” Ginny glared at him. “The reason I came outside was because I couldn’t sleep. Now, there is even less of a chance I will be able to fall asleep,” he added by way of an explanation.
“You must have lost your mind if you think I’m going to come out of here starkers and get dressed while you watch.”
Harry threw his wand out of reach and turned his back to her. “You can come out and get dressed. I promise I won’t look. If I do, you can Avada Kedavra me to oblivion.”
Ginny took a moment to consider his offer. “Word of honour?” she asked hesitantly.
“You have my word of honour.”
“I’m coming out. DON’T LOOK,” she added warningly.
Harry heard her coming out of the water, and a moment later, she did a drying charm on herself. The twins had informed them that the new wards Bill had added to the Burrow made the magic there untraceable. After hurriedly putting her clothes back on, he felt Ginny sitting close to him against the tree.
“You can turn around now,” she growled.
Harry noticed she was breathing heavily, trying to calm herself down. “You did know I was just kidding, right?” he asked.
Ginny gave him an intense sideways glance with a furrowed brow. “If that’s true, you’re a better actor than I expected.”
“I’m sorry if I was an arsehole,” he said apologetically. “It’s just that this broom was a gift from Sirius, so I became a little frantic when I didn’t see it.”
Ginny’s eyes widened. She hadn’t realised how significant the broom was to him now that Sirius was gone. “Oh, Harry. I didn't think about that,” she said guiltily. “I’m so sorry. I promise you I will never touch your Firebolt again.”
Harry turned to look at her directly in the eyes. “Ginny, you can borrow it any time. Just tell me when you want to use it so I don’t have a heart attack.” After a short pause he continued. “In a way, I’m honoured to become the latest victim of your broom thievery. It makes me feel like part of the family.”
“You are part of the family,” she affirmed warmly, reaching with her hand and brushing his upper arm. The last trace of irritation had disappeared from her face and voice.
There was a surprisingly comfortable, long silence as both absently looked at the ripples on the pond.
“Do you normally swim naked here?” Harry asked evenly.
Ginny chuckled. “Why do you ask? Are you planning to hide in the bushes from now on?”
Harry laughed. “That’s not a bad idea, actually… ouch!” he cried after a playful elbow to the ribs.
“I used to skinny dip here every Summer before I started going to Hogwarts, but I grew out of it.”
“You could have fooled me,” he said sarcastically.
“This is the first time in five years I’ve done it. It’s so bloody hot tonight, and the water looked so refreshing that I couldn’t resist the temptation to go for a swim.”
“Yes, the water does look tempting,” he said longingly.
She turned and looked at him appraisingly. “Do you want to go for a swim? I promise I won’t look.”
Harry was caught off guard by her offer and looked at her sceptically. “You'll take my clothes and leave me here the moment I get in.”
“You gave me your word of honour, and that was good enough for me. I also give you my word of honour. I won’t look when you tell me, and I won’t leave you without clothes,” she promised.
Harry smiled. “Alright. Turn around and close your eyes,” he said excitedly. A moment later, he dove into the pond. “You can open your eyes now.”
Ginny smiled when she saw him grinning back at her. “How is it?” she asked.
“Amazing,” he replied. “This was a brilliant idea.”
He swam, careful not to reveal anything below his midriff, but stood up several times on the deeper part of the pond. Harry had experienced a growth spurt of about a foot during the Summer, and even Hermione had remarked admiringly to Ginny that he had never been more fanciable. She noticed he didn’t look undernourished as he usually did after staying with the Dursleys. Instead of scrawny, his pale body could now be described as wiry. It was obvious that the veiled threats that Mad-Eye Moody and Lupin made to the Dursleys at King’s Cross had the desired effect. She looked at his bundle of clothes.
“I see you wear boxers to bed.”
Harry stopped swimming and looked at her quizzically. “I do…”
“To answer your earlier question, I normally wear knickers when I sleep, but it was just too hot today.” Ginny’s face turned pink, surprised she had revealed that so casually to him.
For his part, Harry suddenly became very aware that underneath the thin fabric of her pyjamas, Ginny wasn’t wearing anything at all. He dove to the deepest part of the pond, where the water was the coldest, and stayed under until shrinkage ensued. After emerging to the surface, he swam towards the tree and stood up with the water splashing around his waist.
“Okay, turn around and close your eyes,” he said.
Ginny noticed his torso was completely hairless, except for a line of fuzz going down from his navel to… “Sure, Harry,” she said, flustered. It was with great relief that she turned around before he noticed her furious blush.
Harry did a drying charm on his body and quickly dressed before sitting next to Ginny. “I’m decent now,” he told her.
Ginny opened her eyes carefully, just in case, and looked at him sideways. “Refreshing, isn’t it?”
“Absolutely.”
The y sat in comfortable silence again, looking at the fireflies across the pond.
Harry noticed that Ginny had rolled up the leg opening of her pyjama pants and was massaging her left ankle, which she had broken at the Department of Mysteries.
“Does it still hurt you?” he asked with concern.
The redhead was surprised by the tenderness in his voice and smiled brightly at him. “Madam Pomfrey said it could hurt a few months before it heals completely. I think the sudden temperature change made it hurt a bit.”
“Here, let me…” Harry moved down a little and cast a warming charm on his hands, then he took her lower leg and put it over his thigh. After rubbing his hands together, he started massaging her ankle.
Ginny purred. “Oh my, that feels great.”
“After you have been in the Hospital Wing as often as I have, you learn a trick or two,” he chuckled.
Harry swiped away the sand and dry mud from her foot and massaged her tarsals and metatarsals. He redid the warming charm on his hands and worked on the sole of her foot before returning to her ankle.
Ginny tried unsuccessfully to suppress a moan. She hadn’t been feeling any discomfort on her foot, but it felt too good to make an objection. “When did you learn to do this?” she inquired.
“When I was regrowing the bones in my arm during my second year at Hogwarts,” he explained. “I had to report to Madam Pomfrey twice a week for a month for physical therapy. She said that stimulating the blood circulation would help complete the healing. That’s also when I learned the warming charm for the hands.”
Harry continued working on her ankle. Her foot was small but exquisitely shaped. He saw that her toenails were painted bright red, and he couldn’t suppress a chuckle when he noticed her small toe.
“What’s so funny?” Ginny asked with false indignation.
Harry looked at her and smiled. “Your little toe looks like a baby’s toe.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No,” he replied, shaking his head. “Not at all.”
He finished his ministrations and put her lower leg on the ground.
“Thanks,” she said with a grateful smile. “It feels a lot better.”
“I didn’t take you for the type of girl that painted her toenails,” Harry commented absentmindedly.
“Whyever not?” she asked, puzzled.
Harry realised that his thoughts on the subject could not lead anywhere good for him. He became a little flustered. “Ehm... you... I don’t know... you never struck me as the Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil type... you know... like a girl, girl.”
“What exactly are you saying?” Ginny demanded with a dangerous edge to her voice. “That I’m a troll, like Millicent Bulstrode?”
“Of course not,” Harry replied, alarmed. He paused and slowly looked at her from the top of the head to the tip of her toes and back up to her brown eyes. Even the unflattering pyjamas couldn’t hide the fact that she was stunning. She filled them in all the right places. “You’re most definitely a girl. Obviously,” he declared in a throaty voice.
Ginny was at a loss for words. He had looked at her in a way he had never looked at her before. Like a man looking at a woman, but she shook herself out of her stupor. She couldn’t afford to fall into the dead-end trap of fancying Harry Potter again. It had taken her four years just to be able to speak to him like a normal person.
Ginny forced herself to say something. “It was nice of you to notice,” she said sarcastically.
“What I meant to say is that you are kind of a tomboy... in a good way,” he corrected quickly, frustrated by his lack of eloquence. “You know damn well you’re very pretty, Ginny, but you never behave like you are or act conceited like Romilda Vane and Daphne Greengrass.”
The redhead felt incredibly pleased to be considered “very pretty” by him, which put her in a forgiving mood.
“I’m glad we clarified that,” she said but then turned serious. “You should be very careful with Romilda Vane.”
“How come?”
“She talks a lot, and she fancies you...”
“She does?” he interrupted, surprised by the revelation.
“Yes, Harry,” she replied, annoyed. “She is the kind of girl to throw herself at a boy...”
“Nothing wrong with that... ouch,” he cried, exaggerating after another playful elbow to the ribs. “Stop hitting me, I’m only joking.”
Ginny chuckled. “But seriously, if you get involved with her, the whole school will know everything about you. And I mean every detail,” she added. “She’s kind of a slag.”
“Don’t worry, Romilda is not my type.”
She couldn’t resist asking. “What’s your type?”
“I like girls who aren’t afraid to take a Bludger to the face. Like Cho...”
Harry stopped himself when he realised Ginny was the only other girl he would put in that category. But that could never be. She was Ron’s little sister, and thinking of her that way felt almost incestuous. Still, he had to admit that Ginny had always been pretty, and now she had the body to match. He noticed that the merriment had left her eyes and that she remained determinedly silent.
This time, the silence was uncomfortable, but neither made a move to go back to the Burrow. They listened to the birds stirring and singing as the sky above brightened.
“So,” Harry said probingly. “You and Dean Thomas, huh?”
Ginny turned to look at him almost defiantly. “He asked me out, and he seemed nice. Why shouldn’t I?”
Harry had known Dean for five years, and he had always liked him, although now, he wasn’t so sure he did. “I’ve liked Dean up to now,” he admitted grudgingly. “He is a good friend and a nice bloke. You could do worse,” he trailed off.
“You said you liked him up to now. Why is that?” she asked, focusing on his eyes.
“If he mistreats you, he’ll have to answer to me,” he replied almost to himself.
“I have enough over-protective brothers already,” she declared, visibly annoyed. “I don’t need you to join the crowd, Harry.”
With a harrumph, she turned her gaze away from him. Ginny desperately wanted to change the theme of the conversation, so she said the first thing that came to her mind. “How are you doing,” she asked cautiously, “dealing with Sirius?”
Harry was happy to step away from the minefield he had wandered into and considered his answer carefully. “Much better. Everyone has been incredibly supportive, but I still have nightmares sometimes. That’s why I’m out here tonight.”
“Me too. I have nightmares about brains attacking me like they did Ron,” she confessed. Ginny reached out and took his hand. “If you need someone to talk about Sirius, you can talk to me any time,” she said supportively. “It wasn’t your fault; it was Tom’s and no one else’s.”
Harry was reminded again of Ginny’s own traumas, and he wished with all his heart that he could make them go away. He felt guilty for all the years she had been left to deal with the aftermath of Tom’s diary all by herself. He turned to look at her and nodded. “I know. If you ever need someone to talk to about the diary or the Department of Mysteries, I’m here for you also. Anytime.”
“Thanks,” she replied with a grateful smile. “Should we head back?”
Harry looked up at the sky and noticed the first hints of blue. “We might as well stay here and watch the sunrise.”
The sky was the colour of her hair on the horizon, and they watched as the colours gradually changed from red to orange until they became golden.
“I’ll have to thank Michael Corner,” Harry said suddenly. “He is the reason you finally spoke to me last year, isn’t he?” Harry inquired with curiosity.
“Who told you that?” Ginny asked, surprised .
“Hermione. She said you had given up on me but still liked me as a friend.”
“She told you that?” Ginny said, scandalised. “I’ll have to have a serious talk with her.”
“Don’t give Hermione a hard time. She meant well. In any case, I’m happy you no longer have a crush on me if that means we can talk to each other. I like our conversations.”
“You knew I had a crush on you?” she asked, blushing with embarrassment.
“Well... It wasn't exactly subtle, was it?” he said laughing.
Ginny pushed him on the shoulder but laughed with him. “I’m also happy that my crush on you is over.” She turned and looked into his green eyes. “It made me realise that the real Harry Potter is even more amazing than the one in my imagination. Despite his flaws.”
Harry was left blinking and speechless for a moment by her words. The admission that she no longer had a crush on him made him feel a tinge of disappointment. “Flaws. What flaws?” he asked smugly, avoiding the more dangerous part of her statement.
“Your tendency to brood and be an overprotective git. Your stubbornness. The way you emotionally isolate yourself from your friends, although tonight, I must concede you have been more emotionally accessible.”
“Emotionally accessible? What does that even mean?”
“You have so much love for your friends but have a hard time accepting back the love you deserve from them. Tonight, at least ,you admitted that Sirius’ death still affects you and accepted my help if needed. Just remember you’re not alone.”
“I freely admit feelings are not my strength,” he confessed.
Ginny chuckled. “That’s an understatement.”
They fell into a long silence, taking in the morning's sounds and the sunrise's creeping light.
“You know what I like about you?” Harry said warmly. “That even when we’re not talking, I can feel your company.”
Ginny beamed at him. “Thank you, Harry. That’s the nicest thing you have ever said to me.”
“I’m glad we’re friends now, Ginny,” he said softly.
Wasn’t that what she had always wanted? To be his friend. To be a part of his life? Shouldn’t she be feeling happy now?
So, why was she suddenly feeling so sad? Why there was a lump in her throat?
Would he ask her what other girls liked before going out on a date with them? Would he ask her where he should take them, or what perfume to buy them? Would he ask her if he looked good in a particular robe before running to the arms of another? Would he excitedly tell her about how his date had gone? Would he tell her whom he had snogged or where he had slept? Would she be able to withstand hearing him confess how much he loved someone else?
She had no choice. When Harry killed the basilisk and destroyed Tom’s diary, she took on a debt she could never repay. She would be his friend without expecting anything in return. In good times and in troubled times. Without hope or expectations. She would be his unconditional.
“We are friends. Aren’t we?” Harry asked, unsure after her long silence.
Ginny reached with her hand and caressed his upper arm reassuringly. “Of course, I’m your friend, Harry. Unconditionally.”
Harry turned to see the Sun rising above the horizon with his hand over his brow to protect his eyes from the glare. Ginny took the opportunity to quickly look away from him and wipe away two tears falling down her cheeks.
When Harry turned to say something, he noticed her eyes were weepy.
“Are you alright?” he asked with concern.
“Yes,” she nodded. “The sunrise is just so beautiful. It’s a new day.”
A few minutes before 6:00 AM, a mild breeze blew from the East. Harry got up and extended his hand towards Ginny. She took it and held it firmly as he pulled her up to her feet.
Side by side and in silence, they walked back towards the Burrow. A tempest of thoughts and feelings went with them.
The End