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SIYE Time:9:41 on 29th March 2024
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Friends and More
By ZZ9PluralZAlpha

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Category: Post-OotP
Characters:All
Genres: Angst, Fluff, Drama, General
Warnings: None
Story is Complete
Rating: G
Reviews: 147
Summary: Harry's life is in turmoil since the death of his godfather, but realising he is in love doesn't make it any easier. This story tracks his sixth and seventh years at Hogwarts and all the problems he faces.
Hitcount: Story Total: 69617; Chapter Total: 4466







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Friends and More

Disclaimer: see profile

Chapter Fourteen: The Best Birthday

Harry lent against the wall, feeling the summer breeze ripple gently through the entrance hall from the open double doors. The doors of the great hall were shut, and a busy silence came from within.

His own exams would start soon, and he had finally bullied himself, and allowed Hermione to bully him into, a little revision. There were things he had forgotten, it turned out. Not many things, though. Hermione had tested him on Potions theory the night before, and the only thing he hadn’t been able to remember was the exact amount of essence of belladonna to add to the Syrup of Stamina.

All of a sudden the doors burst open and Harry was nearly overwhelmed by the sea of fifth years running outside, cheering and whooping that their exams were finally over. Harry saw a blaze of red hair approaching him fast and was abruptly winded by Ginny hugging him very hard.

“I’ve finished! I’ve done it! I’ve… er, Harry, are you alright?”

Harry grinned and she loosened her grip on his ribs slightly. “I’m fine. Just so you know, breathing’s something I quite enjoy…”

She clouted him on the arm, laughing, and made for the grounds and some long-awaited rest and relaxation, Harry trailing after her. They walked to the lake, taking their time, chatting offhandedly about the last exam: History of Magic. Apparently it had been pretty much the same as last year, just some slightly different questions.

Last year.

Harry sat on the same rock from which he had enjoyed the storm a few weeks ago, staring out over the water, Ginny silent next to him. When her voice broke the silence, it didn’t seem like it. It seemed a natural sound, as normal as the birds singing overhead, the quiet lapping of the lake, the tiny chirping of insects and the wind swaying the tops of the trees.

“Harry, what’s wrong?”

He looked at her and smiled, though his heart was heavy. “Sorry, I’m being gloomy and you want to celebrate. It’s just…” He paused, looking at her, watching the light reflecting off the lake playing in her deep brown eyes, then looked away, out over the lake again.

“It’s been a year, Gin. A whole year. And… it still hurts. So much.”

His voice was breaking. He felt Ginny wrap her arm around him, her head on his shoulder, and took a deep breath. She understood. She felt the same way, and he put his arm around her shoulder, lightly, very lightly, before feeling bitter and sad that the only reason he had to hold Ginny Weasley like this was their mutual grief. It shouldn’t be like that. They shouldn’t need a reason.

After a long time Harry released her. She smiled back at him, but there were tears in her eyes. They didn’t say anything on the way back to the castle, which was loud with laughter and excitement. The year was drawing to a close.

***

The ride home on the Hogwarts express was just as bad this year as it had been the last: much, much too short. Harry sat with Ron, Hermione, Luna, Blaise and Ginny. Neville and Eleanor stayed for a while as well, talking, laughing, playing games, anything to pass the time, but Harry’s thoughts constantly returned to the weeks he’d have to spend with the Dursleys.

The last time, though. In just a few weeks he would be seventeen. He would legally be an adult, and there would be no more reason to inflict his presence on his relatives any longer. The wards that had protected him for so long would fall, he would be just as safe anywhere, and safest at Hogwarts, Grimmauld Place or the Burrow.

But the time dragged. While the hundreds of miles from Hogwarts to King’s Cross seemed to have taken only a few minutes, the twenty or so to Little Whinging were interminable, and the only things to distract Harry from the scared looks Dudley was giving him were the memories of his friends’ goodbyes at the station: Mrs. Weasley, Hermione, Luna and Ginny had all hugged him, as had Tonks and Lupin (Tonks with blue hair today), and there had been Moody and Mr. Weasley to shake his hand, tell him they would see him soon, and to reiterate the warnings they had given the Dursleys the previous year.

Harry went up to his room when he got there. It was almost empty: Dudley had apparently decided that keeping a mountain of broken toys around wasn’t mature, so he had cleaned them out. This left Harry a great deal more room. He stowed his trunk at the end of his bed, stroked Hedwig for a while, feeling the warm feathers stirring as she nibbled his ear affectionately, and then made up his mind. He pulled parchment, ink and quill and sat at his desk.

‘Dear Ginny,

‘Now I feel really stupid. I’ve only just got back. I saw everyone just a few minutes ago, and I’m missing you all so much already that I’m writing to you. I hope you don’t mind.

‘I’m counting down the days to my birthday, too…’

***

Normally, Harry kept a little chart that counted down the days to his return to Hogwarts while he stayed at the Dursleys. This time, he measured it in correspondence. He had never sent to many letters in his life. He and Ginny kept up a veritable conversation, with each writing every other day, receiving the other’s letters in between, alternating between using Pigwidgeon and Hedwig. He also wrote to Ron and Hermione many times, giving them news and reporting any amusing events that happened… and suddenly, Privet Drive seemed to be hilarious to Harry. His relatives were, in fact, so much more odd than his friends and family in the Wizarding world, he wondered that he hadn’t noticed the funny side before. He wrote to Remus and Tonks a couple of times, to Moody, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the twins, Bill, Charlie, Percy, even his teachers. He wrote to all at least once, and in one letter to all of them he wrote an apology for the year before, and an attempt at describing his feelings. And every one of them replied, thanking him, and reassuring him.

He had never felt so appreciated in his life. People wanted to know his opinions, wanted to understand how he felt. And, at last, he felt able to tell them.

The Dursleys left him alone for the most part. Harry was used to this, but he started to pay attention to them as he had never done before. He listened to the conversations over meals, and laughed afterwards at how meaningless they were. More than once he had collapsed into laughter writing a letter to Ron, Hermione or Ginny, after writing something like, ‘I guess you had to be there, but it was so funny! He really thought we all cared about the best thickness for a crosshead drill bit. And the others just nodded, and behaved like they were really interested, when you could tell they were thinking he should stuff his drill bit… well, you get the picture.’

Harry also noticed that a change had come over his aunt. He supposed it had been there, the beginnings of it, at the end of last year, but this summer she wouldn’t meet Harry’s eyes. When she spoke to him her voice was oddly hushed, and she spoke less and less altogether. It worried Harry. He was amazed to find that he cared about her, just as he had been amazed to find he was worried about Draco Malfoy. It seemed ludicrous, but it was true. He could only assume that she was worried he might bring an attack on her home, like two summers previously, and he couldn’t blame her for that.

Eventually he woke up, and a wide grin spread over hid face. It was July the thirty-first, his seventeenth birthday. He was an adult now, and he was going to see his family. His real family.

He showered and dressed in his favourite clothes, blue jeans and a black t-shirt with a silver design on it. If you concentrated hard enough and squinted a bit, it looked like a Dragon. He remembered the day he had bought it in Gladrag’s with Ginny. It had reminded him of something he had seen on that fateful day, seven years before, as uncle Vernon had driven them to every corner of the country to escape the letters from Hogwarts: the ancient, prehistoric pattern on a hillside, lines and dots dug through the turf and into the chalk beneath, which suggested the outline of a horse. Just as he was tying his shoelaces there was a rap at the window, which Harry opened. A Tawny owl flew in, dropped an official-looking envelope on his bed and flew straight out again. Harry opened the envelope. There was no explanatory note here, merely a purple and blue card printed with various runes he didn’t know the meaning of as well as the words ‘Official Licence of Apparition: Harry James Potter’. He grinned and slipped the card in his pocket, the feeling of freedom increasing.

He laid his dragon-leather jacket over his bed and proceeded to pack his belongings back into his trunk. He cleaned and shut up Hedwig’s cage (he had sent her to Hagrid with a letter the day before) and then went downstairs, to eat the last meal he was ever planning to have with his aunt, uncle and cousin.

He hadn’t told them he would be leaving today, but they noticed the moment he came in that something was different.

“What are you all dressed up for?” his uncle grunted suspiciously, taking in Harry’s still wet hair that was relatively calm at the moment. Harry took a deep breath and smiled.

“Today’s my seventeenth birthday. In the Wizarding world, that means I’m an adult, even though I have another year of school to go. I’m allowed to do magic. But you don’t need to worry, because I’m leaving. For good.”

Petunia stared at him. “But.. but… the protections… he told…”

“They don’t work any more. Because I’m not a child, all those wards and spells are inactive. So, it’s safer for me to go too, somewhere where the protections are strong. I was just going to have some breakfast and then… well, that’ll be it.” He poured some cereal into a bowl. Dudley looked shell-shocked. His aunt seemed on the verge of tears, which surprised him.

His uncle was livid. His face was pale, dangerously so, and he stood up, taking a menacing step towards Harry. “So that’s it, is it?” he snarled. “After sixteen years of looking after you, feeding you, everything we’ve done for you…”

“I hate to say it, but you didn’t do a good job of that,” Harry stated calmly. “You always hated me being here. You couldn’t stand it. I would have thought you would be happy.”

Vernon roared, and flung out his fist at Harry’s head. Harry was caught off guard and went flying backwards, slamming into the kitchen counter, feeling something in his side give at the impact. He could barely stand. He hardly knew where he was. The punch had made him dizzy and confused.

He was aware of screaming, of loud bangs and crashes, but mostly he saw his uncle charging towards him like a maddened bull. Another punch landed, on his shoulder, knocking him to the floor, and then he knew nothing at all, except the pain as fists and feet pounded every part of him. His vision was beginning to fade and he struggled to hang on, to do something…

Vernon lifted him by his collar, holding him off the ground, and drew back his fist again. He said nothing. The fist began to swing forward.

It connected. With aunt Petunia’s head. She dropped like a stone, unconscious before she hit the ground. There was deathly silence.

Vernon sank to the ground beside his wife, holding her hand and staring in horror. Dudley stared at his father. Harry regained his balance, wincing through the pain. He could feel blood on his cheek coming from somewhere near his temple. He was still very groggy, and he suspected he had a couple of broken ribs aside from some spectacular bruising and a black eye. Strangely, he felt very calm. He thrust out a hand, not bothering to speak. Vernon was pulled off the floor and slammed into the wall, held there by an invisible force. Harry looked at Dudley. “Call an ambulance. If I were you, I wouldn’t tell them what happened. We both know he didn’t mean to hit her.” Dudley nodded and left the room. Harry knelt by his aunt, and ran his hands lightly over her. Her breathing was light, her pulse steady. She was OK, but unconscious, and it was just possible she might have a minor fracture to her skull, so Harry said to his uncle, “Don’t move her. Wait for the ambulance.”

There was blood on Petunia’s bony, horse-like face. Harry found a small cut where the end of one of her earrings had dug into her skin. He pressed his finger to the place for a moment, and when he withdrew it the skin was whole. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he was still too confused to care. His whole body ached as he stood and turned to face his uncle.

“Seems I’ll have to change my plans,” he told him, his voice croaky. “Don’t worry, I’m still leaving. But I’ll be back, to check up. I think she realised that, whatever I am, I’m still her nephew. And whatever she is, she’s still my aunt. She earned my respect today. If she needs me, I think I’ll know.” He turned and walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs, staggering once or twice. As he reached the top he stopped, remembering, and waved his hand again. He heard his uncle’s body slump to the floor just as tyres screeched outside. The ambulance was here, surprisingly quickly too. Harry went to his room and shrank his belongings without really thinking about it, placing them in his pockets. He knew he wasn’t in a fit state to apparate, but he didn’t care. He needed his family around him. He closed his eyes, murmured the keywords that would allow him through the wards and thought of the front room of the Burrow. He managed to open them just in time to see Hermione, eyes wide with shock, screaming, and Ginny and Ron running towards him, before he fell to the floor in a dead faint.

***

He woke up to a very crowded room. His vision was blurry, but he recognised it as the twins’ old room, and his belongings were placed around it. He could not see the faces of anyone in the room, but he could tell who they were by their hair. He managed to count five lots of red hair, one of bushy brown, one of thinning brown, one of grizzled grey, one of bright white and one of unnatural blue without any of them realising he was awake. Both his hands were being held. He looked at his left hand, not quite understanding the words being spoken around him, and followed the arm up to the bushy brown hair, which was very close to one of the heads of red hair, much taller than the others. So, that meant Ron and Hermione were there. Good.

He followed his right hand in a similar way, except he didn’t need to, because it was being held very close to some more red hair, longer than the others, and his hand was damp. Damp?

“Ginny… I’m fine… don’t cry…”

His voice was very weak and almost went almost unnoticed, but Ron, Hermione and Ginny all heard it and furiously hushed everyone else.

Harry’s vision eventually came into focus, and the words started making some sense. Molly Weasley’s face swam into view. The others were behind her. They all looked very concerned.

“Harry? How do you feel?”

Harry smiled. His head ached, his body was throbbing with pain and he was having trouble breathing, stabbing sensations catching him every time he tried to fill his lungs, but he was happy. He was home after all.

“Like the Knight Bus didn’t stop. I’ll be OK, but I think I might be concussed, and I’m pretty sure I’ve got a couple of broken ribs. They might need sorting out.”

Mrs. Weasley gasped and hurriedly ran her wand over him, and he felt the pain in his chest easing as he heard Tonks say in a cheerful but slightly strained voice, “You think you might be concussed? You were concussed before you tried apparating, Harry. You’ve been out of it for nearly twenty-four hours.”

Harry blinked. “No wonder I’m hungry.”

There was some laughter, but Mrs. Weasly was crying as she pulled him into a hug, albeit a gentle one, mindful of his recently repaired ribs. Then she let him go. “I’ll bring you some soup soon, Harry. You can’t expect to be straight back to normal, not after what you’ve gone through. We’ll leave you in peace now. You need quiet to get back up to strength.”

Harry nodded, but a thought suddenly struck him. He gripped Mrs. Weasley’s arm. “My aunt… is she all right? There wasn’t too much damage?”

Albus Dumbledore’s soft voice answered him. “She is fine, Harry. No fractures or any lasting injuries, but things have changed somewhat at Privet Drive. I went there myself, as soon as I found out what happened.” Harry blinked. If he didn’t know better, he would have said that Dumbledore sounded like he’d been crying. “Your uncle is devastated, and your aunt is trying to make him understand some things. About you.”

“It’s a good thing you got to him before I did, Albus,” Moody growled. “I don’t think I would have stopped to find out. That man could use some bouncing around the room as a ferret if anyone could.” Ron chuckled, but Hermione gave a dry, heaving sob and held Harry’s hand tighter. He gave it a squeeze to reassure her.

“I don’t think I would have been that restrained,” Lupin cut in. Harry saw his guardian… no, his ex-guardian standing with his arm around Tonks. He looked worn out as he often did, but there was fury blazing in his eyes. Harry shook his head.

“It was my fault. I should have explained things better, I should have known that having it sprung on him would make him react violently. And I really should have been able to deal with him even so,” he said, self disgust in his voice. “Looks like my reactions aren’t quite so good as I thought. After that first punch it was all I could do to keep me eyes open.”

There was silence for a while, and then Moody, Charlie and Percy left the room. Tonks, Remus and Mrs. Weasley all hugged Harry before leaving as well. And then Dumbledore approached. He reached down and hugged Harry as well. It was the single most vulnerable thing the headmaster had ever done, and Harry was really touched. Soon he stood up and surveyed Harry through his half-moon spectacles. The twinkle was back in his bright blue eyes, although it was greatly diminished. “I’m so sorry, Harry. I suppose I knew that life was bad with the Dursleys, but I never got myself to believe just how bad. An old man’s mistake. You need never return. They aren’t part of your life any more.”

Harry shook his head. “You’re wrong, sir. They’re family, and they might just have realised it. My aunt actually protected me from harm yesterday. For that, I have to make sure they’re OK. But I’m not tied to them any more, by obligation, at least.”

Dumbledore surveyed him for a while, then shook his head and left the room, leaving Harry with Ron, Hermione and Ginny, who was still crying silently, though she had lowered his hand from her face. They remained in silence for a while, before Harry broke it.

“Damn. I missed my entire birthday.” Ron laughed gently, Ginny smiled through her tears, and Hermione threw herself onto Harry, hugging him hard. Harry winced. “Not so tight, ‘Mione. It kind of hurts.” She released him quickly, sitting up, but she was smiling at him.

“Don’t worry mate, we’ve just rescheduled your party. And your presents are right here.” He patted a large pile of colourfully wrapped parcels on his bedside table. Harry looked at it, rather daunted.

“Er… do you think you could help me?”

“Sure.” Ron picked up an oblong present and handed it to him, grinning. “Try that one first.”

Harry found the label and read, ‘To the Seeker. This is on condition you share one with us. Happy birthday! From the Irishman, the Hooligan, the Cradle-Snatcher and the King.’ Harry snorted at the nicknames. He knew them since he, Ron, Seamus and Dean had arranged a present to Neville before the end of term, and unless he was very much mistaken the present was the same. Sure enough, what emerged from the packing was a box with not one but two bottles of Ogden’s Old Firewhiskey inside. “Thanks, mate,” he said cheerfully, noting Hermione’s slight blush as she remembered her own run in with the beverage. Harry had been the only one really to appreciate it that night, but he had a horrible feeling that his roommates were going to try their hardest to get him drunk at some point. Oh well, he could live with that if he had a second bottle to enjoy.

Hermione handed him a present from her, predictably book shaped, although these days Harry didn’t mind so much. He had read more the last year than ever before. This was not, however, a book of complex spells or magical history. It was a slim black volume with words printed on the front in gold: ‘Shakespeare Sonnets’. He looked at her sharply, but she just winked at him. It appeared Ginny hadn’t come across Shakespeare, which was just as well as far as Harry was concerned.

There were other presents, of course. A large parcel of Weasleys’ Wizard Wheezes from the twins, a replacement for the knife Sirius had given him and which he had damaged in his fifth year from Remus and Tonks, and a new and beautiful cloudy grey cloak that was labelled from Percy and Penny. At that point Ron finally remembered to tell Harry that Percy was engaged to his old girlfriend from Hogwarts, which caused them all to chuckle for a while.

Bill and Charlie had clubbed together and got him a magnificent display case for his sword, made of some hard, dark wood with patterns around the edge in silver with raised crystal decorations and a cover of clear glass. Inside Harry found what proved to be a whetstone wrapped in a cleaning cloth. Harry immediately asked Ron to put the sword in its case, and Ron placed it on a shelf where the light caught it beautifully. There was a book from Moody about advanced magical stealth techniques that looked fascinating, and from Dumbledore his very own Penseive, with instructions on how to use it. Harry was glad of this because he realised he had never managed to get out of a memory he was reliving without help from someone else.

Ginny handed him a very small present: it was signed simply, ‘Draco’. Harry unwrapped it to find a small vial containing perfectly clear liquid. Harry gasped as he realised what it must be: veritaserum. He needed to keep that a secret, though he told the others, who were equally astonished that Malfoy had got him such a present.

“Do you know where he is now? Somehow I doubt he’s with his family.”

Ron’s expression darkened. “It looks like he’s got everyone fooled. He had his birthday not long ago, and he told his parents he was going to move out, and work on his duelling skills. Apparently they believed him. Actually, he’s now an agent for the Order, and under their protection.” Ron almost spat the words. Harry was uncomfortable, too. He still couldn’t quite trust Draco. To break the tension, he opened the last present, which was from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Hagrid. It was a bracelet. He stared at it.

It was quite beautiful. It was made of a metal he didn’t recognise. It looked like silver but whiter. It was also much stronger because although the thing was so delicate it looked like it could snap at any moment it was totally solid. When he tried, very gingerly, to flex it, it remained utterly rigid. Its main structure was three wires which wrapped right around, overlapping often but spaced apart rather than in a tight braid. The wires met at a more solid setting for the single, green stone that glimmered brightly from it. He looked at the others.

“It’s beautiful… but what is it? Why do I need a bracelet?” Harry was the only one who saw Ginny’s hand snake to her own wrist, which was covered by her loose jumper, and grip what he suspected was the bracelet he had given her last Christmas.

Hermione’s brow was creased. “I have no idea. Perhaps it has some power or something. Or maybe it’s something they had made for you? Either way, ask them about it. They’ll tell you.”

Harry nodded, feeling that was about right. He looked at the presents, now arranged around the room, and felt a very small twinge. There was nothing from Ginny. Of course, he shouldn’t expect presents, he was more than used to not getting any, but he had thought she would do something. Suddenly he felt very tired, and yawned widely. He really wanted a nap. Hermione stood up, and Ron with her. “Sleep for a while, Harry. We’ll bring up your soup in an hour or so. Coming, Ginny?”

“I’ll just be a moment.” Hermione nodded and left, dragging Ron after her. Ginny sat slightly closer to the bed. “You thought I didn’t get you anything, didn’t you Harry?” she said, her voice deceptively light. Harry felt like he was walking along a very high tightrope.

“No! I mean, yes! I mean, I didn’t mind, I, I didn’t expect…”

Ginny laughed. “Oh, you are just too easy to wind up.” She smiled at him and pulled a box out from under the bed. She held it in her lap. “In here are my favourite books, and they’re all on the same subject. I know you’ve never read much fiction, but give them a try. I think you’ll like them. Besides, Mum told me you should have them, don’t ask me why.” She smiled, hugged him again, and left. Harry curiously opened the box.

From the looks of them, every single one had been second hand before Ginny had had them, which didn’t surprise Harry in the least, but since then they looked like they had been maintained lovingly, kept as well as they could. He looked at the titles. ‘The Once and Future King’, by T.H. White, one called ‘The Pendragon’, ‘La Morte d’Art’ by Mallory; these seemed to be written by Muggles, but there were some that were clearly by Wizards. ‘The Legends of Ancient Britain’, ‘Swords and Stone Circles’, ‘The Snow Mountain’… these had moving pictures, mostly of windswept landscapes. Harry was bemused; what on earth did he want with these? And why did Mrs. Weasley want him to have them? He decided that these questions could wait, and settled down to sleep.

***

“And just who is ‘Cradle-Snatcher’?” He was roused by Mrs. Weasley’s stern voice, Ron’s laughter and Hermione’s hurried explanation of Neville’s nickname. They were standing around him again, and Mrs. Weasley was holding a tray with a steaming bowl of soup on it. Harry felt better already: he still ached, but the fog had gone from his mind, and he was starving. He sat up quickly and Mrs. Weasley, smiling, placed the tray on his lap.

“Thanks, Mrs. Weasley,” Harry said, and then remembered what he had to ask her. “Er… thanks very much for the bracelet, but… could you tell me about it?”

Mrs. Weasley smiled. “No, I’m afraid that’s going to have to wait, Harry. One day you’ll find out. But it would be a good idea to wear it. Arthur spent months researching it, trying to find where it was, and then Hagrid went to fetch it. Just… keep it on your wrist for now, and trust us.”

Harry was bemused, but smiled at her and slid the band over his hand. A peculiar buzzing seemed to fill him for a while, but it soon stopped, and Harry looked at his wrist, nonplussed. Mrs. Weasley left the room, smiling.

“What was all that about?” Ron enquired, perching on the edge of Harry’s bed.

“No idea. It felt a bit… odd for a moment there, but now it’s fine. You can’t think of anything can you Hermione?”

Hermione was frowning. Then she shrugged. “Not enough material to go on really, Harry. I mean, we have no idea what it does. All we really know is what it looks like. It’s possible that I’ve read all about it but can’t recognise it because there was no picture in the book or something like that. I’ll keep an eye out, though.”

“Thanks. Er… where’s Ginny?” Harry tried to make his voice sound casual, but Hermione gave him a sharp look and a smirk while Ron answered.

“Oh, she’s out flying. Wanted to clear her head a bit before opening her results. They arrived yesterday, but she decided to wait until you could be around before opening them.” He gave Harry a shrewd look. “You two got pretty close last year, didn’t you?”

Harry was terrified, imagining Ron’s reaction if he found out that his best friend was harbouring a secret love for his little sister. He swallowed. “Yeah, I suppose so. She’s good to talk to.”

Ron’s face wavered for a moment, but when it stopped the expression was one of contrition, a reaction Harry hadn’t expected. “Look, Harry… I’m sorry if I haven’t, well, been around much lately, but, well, you know…”

Hermione’s smirk had long disappeared and her face was very similar to Ron’s. “Yeah, sorry Harry. You know we didn’t mean to neglect you…”

Harry interrupted with a smile. “It’s OK. I’m just glad you two finally took the hints you’ve been giving each other since, ooh, third year? It got kind of annoying after a while. And yes, Ron, as you so skilfully didn’t say, that is part of the reason I’m good friends with Ginny now. It’s not the only reason, though. She… understands better than most people, too.”

They sat in companionable silence for a while, and then Ron and Hermione left Harry to his soup. As he ate, Harry picked up one of the books Ginny had given him, and began to read.

***

Ginny entered just as he was finishing. Harry put down the book and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Now, do you know any more than Hermione, or are you just as in the dark as the rest of us?” he asked as she sat down on the side of his bed after placing his tray on the floor. She looked at him, puzzled.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, firstly about this,” he said, raising his wrist and showing her the bracelet, “and then why your Mum wanted me to read these books. I mean, they’re really good. I didn’t know there were books about stuff like this, but why in particular does she want me to know so much about the legends about King Arthur?”

Ginny shook her head and shrugged. “No idea. None at all. I suppose she’ll let you know eventually. And in the meantime, the books are really good. Just enjoy them, rather than try to find some reason.”

Harry sighted and nodded. Then he noticed the envelope in Ginny’s hand. “Sorry, you want to find your results. Should we get Ron and Hermione?”

A mock disgusted look crossed Ginny’s face. “I think they’re a bit busy, and I can’t wait any longer. Besides, I was the only one there when you found your results.” She grinned at him, and Harry smiled back, remembering that day. It seemed like only yesterday. Ginny ripped open the envelope, and her eyes scanned the parchment. Her eyes widened. Wordlessly, she handed the contents to Harry. He skipped through it, concentrating on the actual results.

Astronomy: E
Care of Magical Creatures: O
Charms: O
Defence Against the Dark Arts: O (Special Commendation)
Herbology: E
History of Magic: E
Muggle Studies: E
Potions: O
Study of Ancient Runes: E
Transfiguration: O

Harry looked up at Ginny, who seemed to have gone into shock, and said calmly, “Well, it’s nice to see someone following in my footsteps. Best score in Defence in the country? I don’t know, anyone would think you had a good teacher.”

She came to herself and stuck her tongue out at him, but then dived on top of him, hugging him furiously. Harry hugged her back, wondering at the warmth that seemed to flow from her into him. “Congratulations, Gin.” He winced. Something was digging into him, and Ginny pulled away, a puzzled look on her face. Harry found the annoyance and held it up, grinning, while Ginny looked first confused, then pleased, then horrified.

“Oh hell… what are Fred and George going to say when they find out?” she breathed, gazing at the prefect badge in Harry’s hand, her eyes huge.




(AN: Sorry for… well, just about everything, actually. I’m not at all sure about this chapter, and a lot of what it brings up is important for the sequel, not this fic at all, so please forgive me. Serpentspawn told me that nothing happens. Well, I think that depends on your definition of ‘nothing’, but I can see her point.
Speaking of betas, thanks yet again to Serpentspawn and Lourdes who never fail to make me smash my forehead into the computer screen in anguish over my stupid mistakes.
The next chapter… hell, I don’t know. Could be more or less any time. Should be soon, hopefully. And hopefully it will be somewhat better than this one. Tom)
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Sink Into Your Eyes is hosted by Grey Media Internet Services. HARRY POTTER, characters, names and related characters are trademarks of Warner Bros. TM & © 2001-2006. Harry Potter Publishing Rights © J.K.R. Note the opinions on this site are those made by the owners. All stories(fanfiction) are owned by the author and are subject to copyright law under transformative use. Authors on this site take no compensation for their works. This site © 2003-2006 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. Special thanks to: Aredhel, Kaz, Michelle, and Jeco for all the hard work on SIYE 1.0 and to Marta for the wonderful artwork.
Featured Artwork © 2003-2006 by Yethro.
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