Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
These are, of course, Jo Rowling's toys; like many others, I'm just playing with them a bit. Story and chapter titles are identical or similar to song titles by The Who.
There once was a note, pure and easy,
- Pure and Easy, The Who
Ginny Weasley stood in her room at the Burrow wrapped in a fluffy towel. She had just showered and was sorting through her t-shirt collection, trying to decide on something suitable for her upcoming visit to Harry. She finally decided on a black t-shirt with the Gryffindor Quidditch mascot on the front – a lion in red and gold robes holding a snitch – and tossed it on her bed. Quidditch was certainly something that they both liked, and also a subtle reminder that she could hold her own. Earlier that day, Ginny had made a pair of cutoffs from some old jeans that she was now too tall to wear; the newly minted shorts were also lying on the bed. It had been tempting to wear a top with buttons that she could have rolled up and tied, but the cutoffs by themselves were pushing what she could get past her mother. She then reached into the top drawer for her undergarments. Pulling them from the drawer, she started the motion of throwing them on the bed and then hesitated, looking thoughtfully at one of the items she held. She looked carefully at the t-shirt for a moment, made a decision, and returned a lacy garment to the drawer.
She dressed, dried her hair with a spell, and then carefully arranged it in a fashion she hoped would look casually windblown – or at least unarranged. She glanced at the clock, then picked up a letter from her bedside table and read it for at least the twentieth time since Remus Lupin had given it to her at King’s Cross station.
Dear Ginny,
If you’re reading this, it either means I’ve managed to get myself killed, or maybe if I’m lucky we’re all sitting around laughing at the things I did to stay occupied at Grimmauld Place before Voldemort was dealt with. While I hope it’s the latter, the other possibility seems rather likely given that both the Ministry and the Death Eaters are looking for me, and I’ve growing increasingly frustrated sitting here doing nothing while everyone else is free to come and go and actually do something worthwhile.
I enjoyed the times we spent getting to know each other last summer in Grimmauld Place; while I wouldn’t wish being stuck there on anyone (myself included), it was good having your company. In some ways, we were both the odd ones out, with Ron and Hermione spending most of their time fencing around each other and everyone else occupied with Order business or other things; if nothing else, that left us a quite a bit of time to talk, enough that I feel I know you well enough to presume to ask for your help should something happen to me.
This is one of five letters I keep writing and updating; the others are to Remus Lupin, your brother Ron, Hermione, and of course Harry. There’re mostly about Harry: I’m quite worried about him and his state of mind right now, and if something does happen to me, I want to make sure he’s okay. Lupin is like a brother to me and would look after Harry for me even if he were not concerned as much as I am about Harry’s welfare; however, Harry doesn’t seem to be inclined to listen to any adult at the moment, which comes naturally enough for anyone his age, even without the abuse he’s taken from many of the adults in his life.
You may be aware that I have a certain degree of skill with the enchantment of parchments; this letter will be visible only to you in its true form, and should you choose at some point to share it with him, to Harry. Anyone else will see nothing other than a bit of meaningless chatter unless it’s unlocked; Harry will be able to figure out how to unlock it should the need arise.
It seems that most of the people in the wizarding world expect Albus Dumbledore to deal with Voldemort; however, that does not seem to be how things are ordained to play out. There was a prophecy made before Harry was born that, given subsequent events, leaves little doubt that Harry is the only one who can defeat Voldemort. The prophecy says, “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies…." There is essentially no doubt this is Harry; while there was another boy born at the right time, Voldemort removed all doubt when he left the scar on Harry’s forehead. I know the details only because James told me before he and Lily were killed. I’m not sure if anyone else other than Albus Dumbledore is aware of the prophecy; even though Professor Trelawney gave it, she has no memory of it. I have pushed Dumbledore to tell Harry the whole truth, and in my letter to Harry I’ve told him that Dumbledore needs to lay his cards on the table but no more. It’s not something I want him to find out from a letter; especially if there’s any chance he might read it while he’s alone.
I hate to dump this burden on you, but you’re my fallback to make sure Harry knows the truth. I love Lupin like a brother and would trust him with my life a thousand times over, but he agrees with Dumbledore about trying to shield Harry from everything until he’s older. Hermione likewise might decide to delay if she sees he’s still as mixed up as at the time of writing and Ron will follow her lead. So I’m putting it all on you: if Dumbledore has not come clean by the end of the school year, make sure Harry knows the truth.
I wouldn’t be surprised if you’re wondering, “Why me?” on reading this. There are several reasons: one is that if nothing else, I’ve found you to be honest, brutally at times, and perhaps of all of Harry’s friends, the least tolerant of any sort of pretense or deception. Another is that it is clear to me just how deeply you care about him, and if necessary you will be able to find the right time and place and will have the best chance of being able to reach him.
Both you and Harry are at an age where relationships are uncomfortable and uncertain territory. While matters of the heart are notoriously complex, I would encourage you to follow yours. Do not be discouraged, and remember that inexperience is not the same thing as a lack of interest. Something worth having is worth fighting for, Ginny. Keep in mind Harry has both lacked role models and has suffered at the hands of those who should have nurtured and cared for him. I suppose what I’m saying is that in Harry’s case, some of the tried and true approaches may not work, particularly since Harry has apparently decided that the best thing he can do for his friends is to push them as far away as possible, so there is no chance of them getting hurt. Whether you and Harry are close friends or should become more, I beg you and Ron and Hermione not to allow him to push you away. I would not ask such a thing if each of you had not made it clear beyond all doubt that you intended to be there with him, with or without his blessing. What you may not know is that what Dumbledore believes will give Harry the power to defeat Voldemort is his love…his heart…his capacity to care - and these virtues need to be nurtured and grown as much, or perhaps even more than his magic. The prophecy does not say that Harry will defeat Voldemort; it says that one will defeat the other. I want Harry to have every advantage, and he won’t have a chance isolated, alone and angry. Again, I find I am unfairly placing the greatest share of the burden you, Ginny, and in perfect honesty, I’m not entirely sure why - only this, and nothing else, feels right. Perhaps James has been whispering in my dreams; I certainly still miss him.
Again, I’m sorry for the burden I’m laying on you in this letter, but I do not trust Albus Dumbledore to balance the needs of the wizarding world versus the needs of Harry. I hope you won’t think too unkindly of an old dog, whose greatest fear is leaving his task undone and having to explain to James and Lily the complete mess that he’s made of things.
Take care of my godson, Ginny, and of yourself as well. You have a wonderful family, and mere words cannot express my appreciation for all that all of you have done for Harry. I hope to see you again one day on the other side, and I hope that’s a long, long, long time from now.
Love,
Sirius
“Ginny!” Molly Weasley called from the kitchen.
“Coming, Mum!” Ginny quickly folded the letter twice and placed it in a pocket. She left her room, carefully closing the door behind her, and lightly padded down the stairs and joined her mother in the kitchen.
Molly turned to her youngest as she covered a basket with a cloth. “I’ve got everything packed up; it’s almost time for you to floo to Mrs. Figg’s and meet Harry. I’ve fixed several of his favorites; try to encourage him to eat well and do what you can cheer him a bit and get his mind off… things...”
Molly’s eyes narrowed as she took in the expanse of bare skin that started at Ginny’s trainers and ran the full length of her legs to a very cut-off pair of cutoffs. Ginny had grown a few inches since Christmas, and all of it seemed to have been in her legs. Then Molly took note of the other unusual omission in her daughter’s apparel. She almost started a lecture then and there, but abruptly stopped herself, as the memory of Ginny’s ashen face, just after she had been rescued from the Chamber, flashed before her eyes. Then she thought about the discussion that had taken place around her kitchen table the day before.
Albus Dumbledore and Nicholas Flamel had arrived at the Burrow after their meeting with Cornelius Fudge. Remus Lupin had joined them a few minutes later. Molly had been quite surprised to hear Dumbledore’s admission of error; she had thought the old wizard – maybe not practically perfect, but perhaps… almost infallible. She became increasingly concerned about Harry as Dumbledore described his mental state and their last encounter. Then Flamel had turned toward him and insisted, “This is his family. You must tell them the whole story.”
Dumbledore returned Flamel’s gaze for a moment before slowly nodding. He told them the tale of how Sybill Trelawney had given the prophecy to him years before. He then filled in many of the details they had not heard before, including how Voldemort’s efforts to obtain the full prophecy had led Harry and his friends to the Ministry. Molly had been shaken to her core listening to this story, though she had tried not to let it show. She had always thought of Harry as a victim – an incredibly brave and resourceful victim – who had been in the wrong place at the wrong time. But – if what Dumbledore said was true – it was Harry Potter and not Albus Dumbledore who was ultimately fated to challenge Voldemort. The fate of her family – no, of their entire world - apparently rested in the hands of this quiet, unassuming lad.
As Molly had pondered these revelations, the conversation had continued about Harry and the plans for his summer. She was mostly pleased with the arrangements that had made, but would have preferred that Harry had been allowed to come directly to the Burrow from the train. Then Lupin had suggested this picnic as one way to both provide moral support and make it less obvious they were keeping a close eye on him.
As she stared at her daughter, Molly now found herself questioning how much Ginny really knew. Even though she and Ron had been sent upstairs while they had talked, that had not always prevented them from finding out in the past - and who could even begin to guess at what the twins might have come up with since last summer. Molly wondered if Ginny had had a hand in Lupin’s suggestion – and in the twins’ conveniently drafting Ron this afternoon.
Molly finally became aware that Ginny was watching her carefully. Ginny certainly noticed her earlier appraisal and her stance suggested she was expecting and prepared for an argument. I’m just going to let her wonder, Molly decided, as Ginny cautiously asked, “Okay, anything else, Mum?”
Molly smiled indulgently at her daughter. “No, dear, run along and have a good time. And give my love to Harry.” Thinking that given the circumstances, she’d have probably let Ginny go wearing a Muggle swimsuit – even one of those stringy things the girls were said to wear on French beaches - if there were a chance it would lift Harry’s spirits. Or if there was a chance… but maybe that was what this was really all about. Ginny was becoming a lovely young woman, and in those shorts – if there was a spark of life left anywhere within the Boy Who Lived, she couldn’t see how he could fail to notice. Molly knew that her daughter still had feelings for Harry, but she had begun to fear that Ginny really had given up. But this – it looked like Ginny was finally making a play for Harry – a serious, abandon-all-subtlety, I-mean-business play – there wasn’t really any other explanation she could think of - and damned if she’d interfere with that. Even though it was one of the oldest plays in the book… Of course, there was good reason that it was one of the oldest plays – it occasionally worked. While she loved Harry dearly, he was even denser than her son Ron when it came to relating to the opposite sex. Maybe something this simple and direct would get his attention long enough to see that Ginny was more than just Ron’s baby sister… and that she was growing up.
“Okay, Mum.” It was obvious to Molly that Ginny did not intend to linger and give her a chance to change her mind. She picked up the basket, moved quickly toward the fireplace, and took a pinch of floo powder and threw it onto the fire. Then she said “Arabella Figg’s” and wasted no time stepping into the green flame. Just before the flame took her, Molly said quietly, “Good luck, Ginny.” As the flames died, her smile faded into worry and she added, “And may all your hopes and dreams come true.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Harry stood as Ginny stumbled out of the fireplace, and, grasping her arm – the one holding the picnic basket - steadied her until she had regained her balance. Ginny smiled at him as she watched for a reaction through her long lashes. “Hi, Harry. How’s your summer so far?”
“Hi, Ginny,” Harry replied, a little distractedly as he took in the long, slender legs emerging from her cutoffs. Ginny was almost his height, he realized - when had her legs grown so incredibly long? “So far, it’s been completely unexpected. After Moody and Lupin and your parents warned off the Dursleys, they said nothing on the way home; I fell asleep not long after we got home, slept in until I woke up, then this morning I found I had permission to use magic, found breakfast on the table and the Dursleys had left for the day but left me something for lunch and I saw Professor Lupin this afternoon, and he’ll be back at Hogwarts next year, and we’re all to have some defense training, and best of all, even if I’m stuck here, it looks as if you and Ron and Hermione will be able to come here…”
Harry was interrupted by Ginny’s laughter. “You’re gushing, Harry.”
Coloring slightly, Harry realized he had been babbling; most of his attention had been elsewhere. He nodded and sheepishly said, “I reckon that means it’s a better than average start, eh?”
“It sounds like it,” Ginny agreed, who seemed rather smugly pleased with where Harry’s attention had been focused. “You also look a lot better than you did on the train. Sounds like a good night’s rest was just what you needed. Hey, are you hungry? I think Mum packed enough that even Ron could get several meals from what’s in the basket.”
“Then there must be enough in there to last the two of us a week. I’m ready whenever you are. I had sandwiches for lunch, but that was hours ago. Professor Lupin offered to tell your Mum the Dursleys were feeding me, but I told him not to. I’d much rather have your Mum’s cooking.”
“How about some company?” she asked shyly as he led the way to the kitchen.
“That’s the same thing Lupin asked me,” Harry answered, wondering just how much of this was being choreographed from behind the scenes. Well, if it got Ginny here – looking like this, a voice from somewhere added – they could plot all they wanted… at least as long as they didn’t stop. He continued, “and to be honest, if I had to pick between the two, the company would win hands down. Actually I’m a little surprised Ron didn’t come along.” They entered the kitchen, and Ginny began unpacking the basket, setting out meat pies, two bottles of butterbeer, and several other bowls charmed to keep their contents warm. Harry found plates and silverware and set the table. They sat, and Harry flicked his wand, lighting a pair of candles.
“Oh, I’m sure he would have wanted to, but Fred and George grabbed him this afternoon to help them set up something in their shop in Diagon Alley.” From Ginny’s tone, it sounded as if she thought Harry had been disappointed Ron had not come, while Harry’s unspoken thoughts had been more along the lines he was really, really glad Ron hadn’t come along and messed this up - which he would have as soon as he noticed where Harry’s eyes kept drifting. Thankfully Ginny didn’t seem to be aware of the effect those shorts were having on him.
“That reminds me; Mum found out about where the twins got the money to set up shop. It seems one of them left some parchment on the kitchen table where they were working their sums, and it showed one thousand Galleons coming from an investor. When she tried to pin them down on it, Ron told her that it was you. He may not be going much of anywhere for a day or two after spending the afternoon with them.” Ginny looked at him, waiting for a reaction.
Harry swallowed, and asked, “Is she really angry?”
“Was it really you?”
Harry sighed; that was all he needed, Mrs. Weasley upset with him. “Yes, the one thousand Galleons were the prize from the Tri-Wizard tournament a year ago. I didn’t want it; I didn’t feel like I had deserved it. Is your Mum still upset?”
“Well, I expect you’re going to hear about it sooner or later - most likely later. Right now, Mum’s awfully worried about you, so much that just a few minutes later she was making excuses for you, saying you were too kind hearted for your own good and that Fred and George had taken advantage of you. Then she yelled at Ron for not saying something earlier. But I reckon it was a good thing you weren’t at the Burrow when she found out.”
Harry frowned, and a worried look flickered across Ginny’s face. Harry looked down for a moment, and finally said, “I suppose she and everyone else has a good reason to be worried. It’s a wonder I wasn’t expelled; I get kicked off the team; I just about get the lot of you….”
“Harry, nobody takes anything that Umbridge cow did seriously. Dad said the paperwork is already working its way through the ministry unraveling all of the educational decrees, and Dumbledore will overturn the ban; you’ll see,” Ginny interrupted. “You’ll be back as Seeker, and I can try out for Chaser.”
Harry continued, “I lead all of you on a fool’s errand where Sirius gets killed; all of you get hurt; Dumbledore has to save the day….”
“Harry, that’s not your fault….”
“You know, that’s what Sirius said.” Something changed in Harry’s expression. The guilt that had been building in his eyes suddenly vanished. “He left me a letter that Professor Lupin gave me a few hours ago; he made it clear that the last thing he was ever asking me to do was not to consider any of this my fault, but to get my act together and… well, get on with things. That whether or not I liked it, I was stuck dealing with Voldemort, so I might as well stop feeling sorry for myself and get on with it. And I am… trying… but it’s not easy.”
Ginny seemed to be watching him very closely. “Sirius was right, you know. Did he say anything else?”
“Well, Sirius said to stop pushing everyone away, that this was a war and everyone had their part to do. And that when I tried to keep you and Ron and Hermione safe, even through I was trying to protect you, I was actually putting all of you in harm's way because you’d just follow anyway. Sirius said that I needed your friendship because that was the source of whatever it is that would let me take on Voldemort.” Harry glanced at Ginny, who nodded for him to continue.
“Sirius told me that Dumbledore had been holding out on me, that I should tell him to sod off if he didn’t come clean. But he already had. Dumbledore told me the whole thing, Ginny, after the Ministry, after I’d smashed up his office.”
Ginny asked hesitantly, “You smashed…He told you about… Trelawney… the prophecy she made… a real one, before… before you were born?”
“How… how could you possibly have known that?” Harry looked at her, stunned. “Dumbledore said after the record was destroyed at the Ministry, no one else knew.”
Ginny looked down, seemingly troubled by his response. “Harry, Sirius left a letter for me, too. In it, he said that your father had told him about the prophecy years ago. He had been pushing Dumbledore to tell you and was afraid he wouldn’t. He told me, in his letter, to make sure you knew the truth if Dumbledore hadn’t told you by the end of the school year.”
Harry sagged in his chair. “Sirius shouldn’t have done that; knowing that puts you at greater risk…” He looked up at her, meeting her eyes. “But I’m glad you know. It… it makes it easier, somehow. I didn’t know how I could keep that from everyone - anyone who knows that is at greater risk – though I suppose I’m not supposed to look at it like that any more. If you and Ron and Hermione were smart, you’d get as far away as possible from me.”
“I’m a Gryffindor, Harry. I don’t run away from my friends when the chips are down. Sirius said that he didn’t tell Professor Lupin or Ron or Hermione. He wasn’t sure they would tell you; he was afraid they’d try to shield you. He said I’d been brutally honest with him…”
“Ginny….” Harry hesitated. “You know I have to kill Voldemort… doesn’t that bother you? That I’ll be no better than he….”
“NO!” She cut him off. “You are not in any way, shape or form like Voldemort, Harry! Not even slightly. You’re protecting the wizarding world. What you have to do may not be pleasant, but all the other choices are much worse.”
“Sirius said pretty much the same thing, that this wasn’t murder; he said it was like killing a mad dog before someone was bitten.” Even if Sirius had told her how to answer that question, hearing Ginny validate what Sirius had said with such intensity and conviction really meant a lot to him. Looking in her eyes again, he tried to find out. He asked, grinning, “Did Sirius ask you to go over all these points with me and repeat them over and over until they took?”
“No, silly. Well, he did say it was important not to let you try and push us away and that he’d written letters to Ron, Hermione, Professor Lupin, and you.”
“His letter to me, Ginny…. I don’t know how to describe it. I felt so… so different after reading it. Suddenly, it was as if all the doubt was fading, all the guilt was gone…. And he told me the one thing I’ve been thinking I had to do - the one thing I didn’t want to do, and what’s been tearing me up inside - to distance myself from everyone I cared about to protect them - was the worst thing I could do. And that if I did it, I couldn’t possibly win against Voldemort.”
“Harry, we’ve tried to tell you that for a long time," Ginny said softly. "I’ve said it before. I will follow where you lead. If you leave me behind, I’ll still follow. This isn’t your private little war. We’re all in this together, and it’s me, and my family, and my whole world that Voldemort’s threatening.”
“No, Ginny, that’s not what I want.” Ginny looked at him angrily. “Wait, Ginny, please, hear me out.” Harry had raised his hands, as if preparing to defend himself.
“How… how can you say that to me? How can you keep pushing me away after… after what you just said? You admitted that you had no chance… alone… and… and none of us do without you! Didn’t the Ministry mean anything?” There was both anger and anguish in her voice; Harry had no doubt she was ready to really let him have it… but even so, she was still giving him a chance to explain.
“Ginny, I don’t want you following me. There’s no one else I’d rather have with me… at my back… beside me… but not following me.”
“What… what are you saying, Harry?” The anger in her voice had lessened, but the anguish was undiminished. Harry suddenly remembered all the times that he - or Ron or on occasion even Hermione - had excluded her or pushed her away. Ginny had no doubt been expecting to hear the litany she had always heard from them – that she was too young, or too small, or wasn’t involved, or that it was too dangerous, or she couldn’t keep up, or even that she was a girl. Ron had said that to Ginny once, and Harry had never seen her angrier than she had been then – though a few moments ago had been close.
He again met her eyes; confusion had replaced the anger. Harry lowered his hands and said firmly, “Not following me, not tagging along, Ginny, but together, with me, by my side. Sirius was right; I can’t do this...” His voice broke then, but Harry continued after a moment, “I can’t possibly do this alone, Ginny. I was a basket case most all of last year; there’s no way that I can ever face Voldemort… like that… and win. And if I don’t win, Voldemort does. Dumbledore saved the day at the Ministry, but all he did was buy time. I have to do this…. And I need your help. Otherwise, what Sirius did… it won’t matter. But I… can’t… do it… alone….” Harry’s voice trailed off.
Ginny spoke softly, a different emotion now shining in her expressive eyes as she took Harry’s hand into hers. “Harry… you have never had to do any of this alone. You may be fated ultimately to deal with Voldemort, but you won’t do it alone. I will be there with you, beside you, at your side, at your back, or anywhere else you need me to be.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “To the gallows-foot – and after.” She hesitated a moment and added, with just a hint of doubt in her voice, “Ron and Hermione feel the same way, you know. We’ve all told you that you’re stuck with us.”
Harry looked down but did not release her hand. He said, “I’ve treated you all pretty shabbily, haven’t I?” When Ginny didn’t answer, Harry continued, “I’m sorry, Ginny. All of you deserved better. Especially you.”
“That doesn’t matter now, Harry. What matters is what we do from here.” She smiled then, and said in a playful tone, “I was supposed to make sure you ate and try to cheer you up. You know, if I take this much food back with me, Mum will be here to force feed you within the hour.”
“Well we can’t very well have that, can we?” Harry laughed… but he also wanted a moment to think over what Ginny had said. He had tried to gauge how she might react if he “said something” as Sirius had put it. He’d skirted around the edges… but she kept bringing Ron and Hermione back into it. Was she warning him to back off, or making it clear they were no more than friends? That wasn’t what he had seen… what he thought he had seen… in her eyes.
The next few minutes were quiet, other than the sounds of knives and forks clicking against the plates. Though there was no conversation during the meal, their eyes frequently met. After they finished, Ginny did end up returning most of the food to the basket but said laughingly that Molly might have to be reminded not to judge Harry by Ron’s standards, but enough was gone that she wouldn’t worry too much.
Using their wands, they cleaned up and moved back to the living room where they settled on opposite ends of the sofa Lupin and Harry had occupied earlier. Harry’s letter was lying nearby. Ginny motioned to it, and Harry nodded; she picked up the letter and read. Several minutes passed before Ginny looked up and said, “Sirius said a lot of the things we’ve all tried to say for a long time, Harry. He was right, you know. About everything.”
“That’s what Lupin said, too,” Harry said slowly. “He said that Sirius was the biggest troublemaker there ever was, but somehow, when he needed to, he always came up with the right words.”
“Are you going to do everything he asked, Harry?” Ginny queried.
“I’m going to try. I don’t see a lot of other choices, actually.”
“Not any other good ones. I think it’s all good advice.” She looked at him pointedly and continued, “All of it, Harry.”
Harry looked at Ginny, certain there was something that he was missing. He thought back over the letter that he had read and re-read while waiting for her to arrive. She hadn’t seen the lines Sirius had hidden, “…if you feel even the slightest thing for her, say something, Harry.” Or… had she? The letter said was enchanted for his eyes only… could Sirius… would Sirius… as Harry thought about it, he became increasingly suspicious that one other person could read the entire letter - and she was sitting across from him. That would be exactly the sort of thing Sirius would do. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach; he needed time to sort this out. Had Ginny seen those lines?
Sirius’ warning, “…if you wait too long, you may have the rest of your life… to regret it” kept running through Harry’s head. He might have already waited too long. Harry took a deep breath and looked at Ginny sitting across from him, her hair looking casually windblown as it cascaded like a mane over her shoulders; deep expressive brown eyes, a slender figure, and legs – long, smooth, incredible legs - that seemed to go on forever, now tucked beside her as she had curled up on the other side of the sofa. “I’m a Gryffindor, dammit, why am I so hesitant?” he thought to himself and then realized he knew the answer. What he did now – whichever choice he made – could potentially change… everything.
She sat beside him, waiting quietly, her expression yielding few clues. If he took this step, it might not be possible to turn back the clock. Cho had been a crush, but ultimately, it had been a casual thing - there would be nothing the least bit casual about being with Ginny. Damn Sirius and his parchments and his pranks – but somehow, this did feel… that it was… right. If Dumbledore’s maxim meant anything – maybe it was the right thing to do – because it sure as hell wasn’t easy. Harry finally swore under his breath and gathered his resolve. “Bugger it, Sirius, you are a dog. A rotten, stinking, no good, flea-bitten, mangy cur.”
Ginny responded, “What did you say, Harry?” trying unsuccessfully to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
“Ginny… there’s one thing that frightens me even more than losing to Voldemort. Sirius said in his letter it was better to make a fool of yourself than spend the rest of your life wondering.” She waited, frozen, still. Harry continued, “I’m not going to take that chance any longer; the only reason I would even hesitate is it risks one of the things I value more than anything else in the world, Ginny, and that’s your friendship.”
“Harry… there’s nothing you could…” Ginny whispered softly.
Harry held up his hand, stopping her. “Ginny, I do care about you… maybe more than just as a friend. When I said earlier I wanted you with me… beside me… I meant exactly what I said… that I wanted you beside me. That I’d like to… maybe be with… you… Do you… do you have any… feelings… left for me?” His voice dropped so low she could barely make out the words. “Or did I take too long?”
“Harry,” Ginny said, savoring his name.
In that one word, he had her answer. To Harry it sounded as if she had set his name to phoenix song -as if a phoenix had warbled as she spoke, blending with Ginny’s voice and underscoring the emotions that now threatened to overwhelmed him – though even Fawkes in full voice had never lifted his spirits as hearing Ginny say his name the way she just had.
Ginny, however, hadn’t stopped there. “When I first saw you at King’s Cross, when you and Ron were leaving for your first year, I felt… it… even then. Then you saved me my first year. I already owe you a life debt. But I thought you never noticed me… that to you, I was nothing more than Ron’s annoying little sister. All I ever seemed to succeed in doing was embarrassing you. I did wait for a while - but eventually, I said I'd given up. Not because my feelings had changed, but because if you ever did feel something for me, I wanted it to be real, not out of obligation. And if I… I was not the one, at least I… could give you a chance at finding happiness.
“I dated other boys, several of them; most of them were okay but all of them were distractions - none of them were you. I was trying to prove to everybody – including you - that I was over you, but no matter what I did, there was at least one person who I never convinced, who knew it was all a lie: me.
“Besides, how could someone like you be interested in… in a nobody like me? My family is so poor even a church mouse would turn up its nose at the Burrow, and my father isn’t exactly a mover and shaker at the Ministry. I’m loud, pushy, not very ladylike - and moody. I’m not pretty and curved like Lavender or even in the same league as Cho; I’m skinny and bony… and flat. I’m a tomboy with scabs on my knees and elbows. What could you possibly see in me?
“You carry the whole weight of our world on your shoulders, Harry…even more than I could have ever imagined before reading Sirius’ letter,” Ginny continued. “I would just drag you down…”
Harry had been looking at Ginny with growing incredulity but he had to stop her there. “You would never drag me down. I agree - you and Cho aren’t in the same league; she’ll never hold a candle to you. And you’re not shallow like Lavender at all; you’re tall and slender and beautiful… and what’s in your family’s vault at Gringotts isn’t the least bit important to me; but if it is to you, you can have every last Galleon, Sickle and Knut in mine. You have no idea how rich you are in your family. There’s so much love there, your Mum even had a little left over for me.”
He smiled at her, a radiant care- and worry-free smile and then asked, “Does this mean… that maybe it wasn’t too late?” Harry knew the answer; he just wanted to hear her say it again.
Ginny seemed to understand and willingly played along. “No, it wasn’t too late. Maybe it was close, but Dean will just have to wonder. Harry, I fell for you the first time I saw you, and nothing has ever changed that.”
Harry had to know how close to the edge he had been. “Did you see… in Sirius’ letter?”
“You mean the part that was supposed to be just to you?” She smiled wickedly. “Yes. I only hope Sirius could see that his last prank was a smashing success.”
“I couldn’t take that chance. If you had seen it, and I’d said nothing… it might have been too late.”
“I told you I thought it was all good advice,” she whispered, moving across the sofa, and taking his hand. “You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamed about you finally noticing me… wanting to be with me… the other half of my dream has finally come true….”
“The other half?”
“At the Ministry,” she replied, “fighting against Voldemort - with you.”
That did remind Harry of some of the practical considerations. “Do I dare show my face at the Burrow?”
Ginny replied thoughtfully, “Well, Ron’s not going to be very happy about it…”
“I thought he was actually encouraging you to think about me.”
“Only because he thought you wouldn’t be interested – and if the off chance you were, well, at least you don’t have quite the reputation that Dean does. No, Ron probably had some idea I still felt something for you. You would be better than Dean, and better still as long as you weren’t interested, but your returning my feelings will scare the living daylights out of him. Eventually Hermione will get through to him that I’m hardly going to live alone and be an old maid aunt to their children, and of everyone I could be with, he’ll finally concede you’re the least objectionable… but he’d be a lot happier if we’d just put everything on hold until we’re both twenty-five or maybe thirty.
“Let’s see… the rest of the family. The twins will be merciless with their teasing… but for all that, supportive. And it keeps the business all in the family. Percy… well, Percy’s not around. Charlie will be pleased, he really thinks a lot of you, and so does Bill. If anything Bill will ask what took so long. Of all my brothers, he understands me the best and knows this is exactly what I wanted. Dad will take a day or three get used to it; his baby is growing up and he knows enough to know this one’s serious. But it’s Mum who will be the biggest problem.”
“She’s going to be upset with me, eh?”
“Upset? Are you kidding? This has been what she’s hoped for all along. I think I heard her wishing me luck as I entered the Floo. She’s going to be unbearable. She’ll want to start planning the wedding.” Her voice took on a seductive tone. “Harry, have you noticed anything different about what I’m wearing? Besides the shorts?” Harry looked blank; Ginny sighed and said, “Hermione is right; you and Ron are both completely clueless. Let me spell it out for you. Do you notice anything I’m NOT wearing?”
Harry looked puzzled for a moment; there weren’t really a lot of options… socks probably didn’t count; could she possibly mean…? His hand traced down her back and found no sign of an undergarment; unsure of what to say, he nodded. Ginny continued, “Mum noticed that, too, and I don’t think she was really thrilled about how high I cut these shorts. I was expecting either a long lecture or maybe a screaming match, followed by a order to change clothes, but she said nothing but run along and have a good time.” She grinned wickedly. “Now, the way I figure it, that means one of two things… she was so worried about you, she let me get away with anything that might help cheer you up, or she thought that a chance of us getting together was worth turning a blind eye for once… since what I had been doing wasn’t working maybe she was willing for me to try something else, even something a little extreme. But my feelings are hurt that you didn’t notice.”
Harry somehow came up with the right answer. “Ginny…uh… I hadn’t gotten that far up… yet. Your legs… they’re incredible.”
Ginny responded by moving closer and raising her lips to his.
Harry’s mind reeled; time seemed simultaneously to stand still and flow rapidly past. At some point Ginny had broken away for a moment but only to reposition herself on his lap and wrap her arms around him; then Harry fell back into the temporal vortex as time stood still and ages flowed past…
As the world - wizarding and Muggle - marks time, perhaps an hour had passed. No words were exchanged; later, both Harry and Ginny would remark separately that they would have believed moments or millennia had passed. Their rapture was finally broken when an orange flame flared, then the fireplace flashed green and Nymphadora Tonks stumbled out. Harry and Ginny broke their kiss and looked toward the fireplace, but neither moved, Ginny sitting in Harry’s lap, their arms wrapped around each other.
“Er… ah, wotcher, Harry, Ginny, uh, sorry, sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt, uh…”
Ginny gracefully untangled her arms from around Harry, stood briefly, and then settled beside him on the sofa. As she sat, their fingers intertwined. To Tonks' surprise, neither of them showed the slightest sign of embarrassment. Ginny, Tonks could maybe understand, since she wasn’t really all that much older than Ginny – not anywhere close to Arthur and Molly’s generation - and the word was that Ginny had dated several at Hogwarts. But Harry… who blushed when a pretty girl as much as smiled at him? And how different he now looked from just a day ago, when she had seen him at King’s Cross.
“Hi, Tonks. It’s okay; I have to get back to the Burrow soon, anyway.”
“Er, I hadn’t heard….” Tonks searched for the right words. “Are you two an item now?”
Harry looked surprised at the question for a second or so; he and Ginny glanced at each other and answered together, “Yes!”
“Well, Harry, I have to say having a girlfriend seems to agree with you; you look quite different than you did getting off the train.”
“A lot has happened just since this morning, Tonks. I’m not sure where to begin….”
“Don’t worry about it now,” Tonks replied. “I’m coming off shift and would be fast asleep in minutes if I even got near one of those chairs. Why don’t I just head on upstairs and let you lot get back to… er, actually, Bill will be staying here tonight, so you might want to….”
“Thanks, Tonks, but I’ve got to head home shortly, or more Weasleys may be coming through that fireplace than just Bill,” Ginny said with a smile. She stood and walked toward the kitchen and returned a moment later, the basket on her arm. She took a pinch of floo powder, and then turned toward Harry. “Good night, Harry.”
Harry stood and took two steps toward her, then faltered, suddenly clutching his forehead, his hands covering the scar. He crumpled soundlessly to the floor, his hands clamped to his forehead.
Ginny dropped the basket and started toward Harry, but Tonks grabbed her arm and held her back. Her other hand was working some sort of small device, into which she shouted, “Dumbledore! McGonagall! Bill! It’s Harry; he’s collapsed at Arabella’s.”
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