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Ancient Magic | ||||||
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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Angst, Drama, Fluff, Humor Warnings: Sexual Situations, Violence Story is Complete Rating: PG Reviews: 158 Summary: Love is the most ancient form of magic there is. Harry and Ginny begin to discover they may have a love that will endure forever. He Who Must Not Be Named certainly thinks so. Could their love be the key to fulfilling one of his greatest wishes? Hitcount: Story Total: 78257; Chapter Total: 8619 |
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Disclaimer - I do not make any claim on the Harry Potter world. Harry stood by the side of his bed and straightened his tie. The blue smudges under his eyes from too many late nights studying for final exams had faded. His hair was still mussed, but, to be honest, he thought Ginny liked it that way. He took his glasses off and wiped the fingerprints off with the end of his tie. Rubbing the toes of his newly polished shoes on the back of his pants, first his left, then his right, Harry looked down to check if he could see his reflection in them. If he had been able to, he was sure he would see a wizard wearing a grin that refused to go anywhere. He had a date with Ginny tonight, a school sanctioned date, but a date nonetheless, where he could hold her in his arms, feel her pressed against him, be enveloped in the fresh scent that was all hers. It was the best way ever to celebrate the end of the school year. Opening his trunk, Harry drew out his cloak. Below his cloak lay a package wrapped in brown paper. Harry carefully picked it up and tucked it into his cloak pocket. He hoped Ginny would like it. “Come on, mate!” Ron said bounding into the dormitory. Seeing as the invitation had stated dress robes were optional, most everyone Harry knew who was going had opted for Muggle style clothing. Ron was no different, having donned a shirt and tie similar to his. “Our dates await!” Ron said, grinning as he pulled his cloak out of his trunk. Harry grinned back. “Let’s go!” he said as he slapped Ron on the back and headed out the door. Harry and Ron were halted on the bottom step by a wall of Gryffindors. Looking around, Harry realized they were oddly all male, and their attention was drawn not so subtly to the fireplace. Following the crowd’s line of sight, Harry saw what was causing such a stir. “Wow!” a first year said from somewhere in the back. “Young man,” Ron informed the first year in his best soon-to-be-seventh-year-Prefect voice, “You are admiring our dates. Maybe one day you’ll be as lucky as we are. Now break it up, break it up. Let us through. Excuse us.” Harry smiled inwardly at how much Ron sounded like several of his older brothers as he blazed a trail to the two most beautiful girls in school. He watched Ron give Hermione a quick kiss on the cheek before offering her help with her cloak and then his arm. Hermione did look lovely tonight, her hair done up, wearing a silvery blue dress that showed there was more to her than just books. Then again, in Harry’s eyes, there was no comparison to Ginny. He was not sure what drew his attention more but he could not take his eyes off her. Her chocolate brown silk dress skimmed her shoulders, molding to her waist and sliding down her legs, stopping just above her knees. Her hair was pulled back from her face with a matching silk bow that allowed it to tumble over her shoulders. Harry reached out to feel one of the soft curls between his fingers, jerking back suddenly when he realized his knuckles had brushed Ginny’s bare shoulder. “Ginny, your dress is missing its arms!” he exclaimed. Ginny looked taken aback. “It’s-it’s Hermione’s. She loaned it to me for tonight. She said it doesn’t really fit her. Do you like it? We fixed it up a little...” Harry watched Ginny pluck at the skirt with her thumb and forefinger, her cheeks turning pink, and he mentally kicked himself. “It’s beautiful,” Harry reassured quickly. “You’re beautiful. You’re beautiful in anything!” Ginny cocked her head to the side, causing her hair to slide, the fire playing off the blush skin of her neck. She smiled at Harry who suddenly had the greatest urge to kiss Ginny right…there. Ginny waved her hand in front of Harry’s face. “Hullo, Harry?” “Uh, yeah,” Harry said reluctantly coming back to the present. “We should get going, don’t you think?” “Yeah, yes, we should,” Harry said feeling the unmovable goofy grin coming back. “You do look wonderful,” he said as he helped Ginny on with her cloak. “Thank you, Harry. You look wonderful, too,” she answered smiling, her insides jumping with glee. Yes, removing those arms had been just the ticket… ++++ Harry leaned against the wall of the Three Broomsticks, watching the couples cling to each other on the dance floor. The pub had been transformed into an elegant escape, or at least as much as was possible with a bar as the backdrop. The tall round tables were draped with sparkling white tablecloths that pooled on the floor. Candlelight flickered from every corner. The barstools had been enhanced with a cushioning charm and elevation charms that raised and lowered the seats for those who were unable to climb up them in a ladylike fashion in a straight skirt. Dinner had been a feast to remember, their plates filling magically until they could eat no more. Dumbledore had spoken, reminding them in these times of war, it was important to celebrate life. He then urged them all to dance the night away. Waiting for his date to emerge from the powder room, Harry observed that the Slytherins were dancing the night away on the opposite side of the dance floor from the Gryffindors, and that was just fine by him. He was having a hard enough time keeping his mind off how warm Ginny’s shoulders felt and how sweet her skin probably tasted. He did not want to spoil his train of thought by anything else at the moment. Ginny emerged from the powder room, a look of amazement on her face. “Harry! You should see what they did with the loo! It’s amazing! I wish we had one of those at the Burrow. I’d never have to share a sink with Ron again.” Harry grinned. “Want to dance?” “Not really,” Ginny said wrinkling up her nose. “Want to take a walk?” Harry asked hopefully. “Alone? With you?” Ginny batted her eyelashes at Harry. “I thought you’d never ask! Should we tell Ron and Hermione?” Harry shook his head reaching for her hand. “They’ll figure it out -- when they come up for air,” he said wryly, pointing his head in the direction of the dance floor. “And to think Ron gave me a hard time for snogging you in public!” ++++ Percy Weasley studied the door of number twelve, Grimmauld Place. He’d been studying the door for the passing of two busses, three automobiles, two women with shopping bags, one old man walking his dog and one late night dinner delivery two doors down. Squaring his shoulders, he raised his fist and knocked three times. Stepping back, he steadied himself and waited. Molly Weasley heard the knock. Who would knock? she thought. Order members would just come in. Muggles didn’t see the door. Curious, she stood on her tiptoes to look out the peephole. She gasped and dropped down to her heels. “Arthur! Come quick!” she hollered. “Arthur!” Arthur Weasley hurried down the hallway. “Molly? What’s wrong?” “He’s back. He came back,” she whispered. Arthur looked through the peephole and drew in his breath. “Well,” he said stepping back. “Let’s open the door, Molly.” Arthur pulled the door open. Meeting Percy’s eyes, he nodded. “Come in, son.” ++++ Nathan Borgin took his robes off the hook on the back of his door. As Hogwart’s newest professor, he had drawn the short straw for chaperone duty. The upside was classes were over, and he could afford to sleep in tomorrow morning; the downside was it was already late and he would not be able to start that sleep for several more hours. Swinging his robes over his shoulder, a parcel fell to the floor. Bending over to scoop it up, Borgin returned it to his desk. He had received the parcel at breakfast that morning. Noting the return seal of his uncle’s shop on the back, he had slipped it into his pocket to be opened at a more private opportunity. Checking his watch to see if he had a spare minute presently, Borgin broke the seal and unwrapped a bound stack of parchment. A note was scrawled on a loose piece of parchment resting on top. Nathan, Discovered this in the storeroom. It is the last of your father’s estate. Since the manuscript it belongs to went missing, I thought you should have it. B. Nathan snorted. There was no love lost in his family. Of course, there had never really been any to loose. Nathan crumpled up the parchment and threw it into the rubbish bin. He looked at the manuscript in front of him. Addendum to Mysteries and Myths — Notes of Truth About Dark Magic, Death and What Happens Next, he read. Ah, he had wondered when that would come up again. Nathan casually ruffled the edges of parchment as if it were a flipbook. He did it again, a little slower this time, the neat script sending cold fingers of dread through him. Chastising himself for allowing his father to still intimidate him from the grave, Nathan picked up the manuscript by its spine to throw it in the bin and turned it over. It fell open in his palm. “Bloody hell.” He read what his father had written. He reread it. He made the connection. The cold flowing through his veins this time had nothing to do with his past and everything to do with the future. ++++ Arthur Weasley closed the door. He met Molly’s wide eyes. “Molly, it will be alright. It was a start. He’ll be back,” he assured her. Molly blinked back tears as she nodded. The meeting with Percy could only be described as stiff. Percy had spent less than ten minutes at Headquarters. He had surveyed the faded curtains, the worn sofa, the threadbare rug and declined a seat. He had not wanted refreshment. He had only wanted to pass on information. “You told me to come to you if I felt something was being overlooked,” Percy began, meeting his father’s gaze defiantly. Arthur Weasley nodded, afraid if he spoke, Percy might stop. “Several months ago, a manuscript went missing from Borgin & Burkes. I looked into it, visiting the shop and informing the Minister of Magic. The matter was not resolved and was swept under the rug.” Percy paused, recalling the events of the past week. Lewis Fielding had stopped by his office. “Weasley! No time to talk today,” he had said, poking his head around the corner. “The Aurors are on to something. He Who Must Not Be Named is up to something big. They think it’s some form of spell work. I’ve got to go take notes at the briefing. Later, Wealsey.” Fielding’s words had stuck in Percy’s mind. At first, he chalked it up to being just another one of Fielding’s nagging jabs, but it persisted. Night after night that week, Percy woke up staring at the ceiling, willing his memory to put the missing pieces together. ”He Who Must Not Be Named is on to something…on to something…” Percy had sat up in bed. He remembered sharing the lift with his dad. "We've heard rumors. He has found something, something new that is making him edgy and excited. We are having a hard time determining what it could be." “We need to talk to Dumbledore and Nathan. They will know what was in that manuscript,” Arthur said as he headed back toward the kitchen. Molly stood alone in the front hallway, tears dampening her cheeks. She gently placed her palm on the door. “Be safe, Percy,” she whispered. “Come home soon.” ++++ Lucius Malfoy rubbed his hands together in anticipation as he turned from the fireplace where Draco’s head had been moments before. With a wave of his wand, he was knocking on the door of his master’s residence. Wormtail ushered him into the study. ++++ Nathan Borgin exploded into Dumbledore’s office. The Headmaster turned from the window. “I know -- I know what he is up to.” Dumbledore nodded. “Go.” ++++ “It is time, My Lord.” “Yes. It should be. What do you require?” “Your blood, sir.” ++++++ Ginny tore the brown paper off the gift and caught her breath. She ran her hand over the worn leather cover. "It's beautiful, Harry," she said softly. "Thanks," he said smiling shyly. Ginny opened the front cover. There were two inscriptions on the inside; the first one written many years before, the blue ink having faded into brown. Ginny caught her breath as she read it. To Lily, You'll always be the poetry in my heart. Love, James Ginny felt the tears burn behind her eyelids. Blinking, she looked up at Harry. "This was your mother's," she whispered. "Yeah," Harry replied softly. Ginny blinked away the tears forming and focused on the newer inscription. To Ginny, I'll always be yours. I love you, Harry Ginny wiped the tears spilling down her cheeks with the back of her hand. She looked at Harry. “Thank you,” she said against his lips, and kissed Harry with all the love in her heart. Pulling apart, Harry rested his forehead on hers, his eyes closed, losing himself in Ginny. "Where did you get it?" she asked, knowing his aunt and uncle hadn't kept anything of his parents’ for him. "Sirius had it. When your mum cleaned out Grimmauld Place, she set aside what was left of his personal stuff," Harry said. Mentioning Sirius still stirred up feelings, but instead of searing pain, Harry felt a dull longing, as if Sirius was on an extended holiday and would return some day. He lifted his forehead so he could look into Ginny's eyes. "There wasn’t much, but this was in there with a note from Sirius. I guess my mum had told my dad she liked poetry as a joke and suggested my dad read this book just to see if he would really do it. In the end, my dad was so gone over my mum, he memorized the book and recited it at the bottom of the stairs in Gryffindor Tower nightly until she begged him to stop." Ginny looked at him, surprised. "Did you mem-" "No!" Harry said emphatically, then caught himself. "Not that I wouldn't because I would have!" he assured her. "I just kind of figured you'd rather I memorize a few good new hexes to use on Fred and George…" Ginny giggled. "I love you, Harry Potter," she smiled, before she kissed him. Pulling away again, Ginny turned back to the book. She let it fall open on her knees. "Oh, look! I bet this was your mum's bookmark." In between the pages rested a small piece of pink ribbon, a little frayed on the ends. Harry leaned over and looked at the silk. He didn’t recall that being there. Suddenly the picture of Malfoy flipping through this very book before Defense Against the Dark Arts flashed through his mind. "I wonder if your dad also ga-" Ginny started to say as she ran her fingers down the satin ribbon before she felt the familiar tug behind her navel of a Portkey. Her feet hit the ground. Stumbling, still clutching the book, she righted herself and looked around. She was in a clearing surrounded by thick, dense forest. She did not think she had gone far. Perhaps this was the Forbidden Forest? Maybe the ribbon had been a way for Lily and James to meet? She knew Harry’s dad hadn’t had a big problem with bending the rules, and an illegal Portkey for a stolen rendezvous was not out of the question. They could have picked a better place than the Forbidden Forest for a snog, though, Ginny thought grimly. There were several good broom closets she and Harry discovered that would have worked just fine. Wanting to get back before Harry worried, Ginny held the book up by the spine and let it fall open. If the ribbon was a Portkey to get here, maybe it was also the way to get back. She ran her finger over the page, only feeling paper. The ribbon was gone. Damn, she thought. It must have fallen out. The trees were too thick to let in much moonlight for searching. Ginny reached inside her cloak and pulled out her wand. “Lumos!" Holding the glow of her wand close to the ground, Ginny circled the clearing. She had almost completed the circle when the light hit a bump. Ginny leaned closer. It took a moment before she realized she was staring at the toes of a pair of gleaming, polished black boots. "Good evening, Miss Weasley. I've been expecting you." Ginny screamed. +++++ A/N — Ah, the fun begins. Thanks to my beta Lindsay for putting up with, well, me. Next chapter...Lucius Malfoy’s 15 minutes of fame, so to speak. |
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