Mrs. Weasley poked her head into the room that Ron and Harry were sharing.
"Dinner's ready!" she said, trying to sound light and cheery. The truth was, she was anything but. Ever since the day when Fred had been slain by the Death Eaters, something in her had died, too.
Ron closed the Chudley Cannons magazine in his hand, sat up, and stretched.
"Be there in a moment," he told his mother. Harry, too, put down the quill he had been using and stood up.
"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he said. "Be right down." But as soon as she nodded understandingly and shut the door, he slumped back in his seat.
"She didn't like the roses," Harry complained, "so I thought, love poetry! Great. I can handle that. But Hermione seemed to think it was unoriginal to copy from that Shakespeare bloke, so I have to write my own bloody sonnets! Do you have any idea how hard this iambic pentameter thing is? And Hermione, who did our homework for us since practically third year, says it has to be from 'my own heart', or something. Shakespeare's her idiotic hero; why doesn't she write love poems for fun sometime?"
When he was done with his rant, he stood up again, crumbled up the piece of parchment he had been writing on, and tossed it in the rubbish bin. Ron turned and shrugged apologetically.
"Because, mate," he said, "Hermione's already got the man! I'm sure Ginny will come around eventually. Come on, let's go down to dinner." Harry put his head down on the desk.
"To be ignored by my one and only true love? Forget it, Ron."
"You're being just a bit melodramatic, Harry," Ron said. "Anyway, she doesn't completely ignore you. Just…two nights ago, she said, 'Please pass the butter.' Okay, maybe that wasn't a very good example. Let me think—"
Harry interrupted him. "It's okay, Ron, I know she hates me. I will go down to dinner; your mum's cooking is too good to miss. And maybe if I can just come up with a better rhyme for 'world'… I have 'The most beautiful girl in all the world' as a first line, then 'Ginevra is the best thing since hairs curled.'" Ron stifled a snort, and then patted Harry on the shoulder.
"Might want to work on that one a bit," he suggested.
"I'll ask Hermione," Harry said wearily.
Ginny sat in front of the mirror carefully applying mascara. The roses Harry had given her sat in a vase on the bedside table. Hermione, sitting on the bed behind her, brushing her hair, looked at Ginny critically.
"I really don't know why you bother, Gin. He's head over heels in love with you, and if you'd just let him— I can't imagine why on earth you don't. Do you know what he's doing right now in his room? Writing sonnets! In bloody iambic pentameter! About you, Ginny."
"'Mione, I get it," Ginny said softly. "I can't really explain why, I just…it's too early. I can't let him back yet. He needs to know what it was like for me, after he dumped me and—well, and then all of you went off to go find Horcruxes without me. Do you know what that was like, Hermione? To not know where my best friend and brother and ex-boyfriend slash crush were? Only that they were off doing something extraordinarily dangerous that Dumbledore had told them to do? Something so dangerous that the rest of the order couldn't handle it, only the 'Golden Trio'?" Her voice had grown steadily louder until she was almost shouting.
"Stop it, Ginny, that's really not fair," Hermione said, putting down her hairbrush. "You know we couldn't tell you. And Harry…he would have given almost anything for you to come along, but it would have been too dangerous for you—"
"See?" Ginny said furiously. "See? You treat me like I'm some kind of baby! Well, I'm not! I'm seventeen, and you three haven't even graduated from Hogwarts yet."
"Oh, like you had a proper graduation," Hermione snapped before she could stop herself. "The school getting almost completely destroyed, hmm? And Voldemort being defeated—by the way, I can't imagine who it was who did that, made it safe for the whole world, remember him, Gin? —that was just great, but you didn't really do the whole caps and gowns thing, did you? Anyway, you wouldn't have graduated even if it weren't for all of that. This year would be your seventh." Ginny stood up abruptly.
"I'm going down to dinner," she said, and whirled around towards the door, tossing her red hair.
Hermione sighed, stood up, and followed Ginny down to the kitchen.
"Just who does she think she is?" Ginny muttered under her breath as she stomped down the stairs angrily. "Like she's the only one who ever did anything! She's got a boyfriend, and adventure, and friends, and everything. My friends are…well, her, and a girl who wears radish earrings! I'm the one who's been possessed by Lord Voldemort, for Merlin's sake!" She was ranting to herself so intensely that she nearly knocked over Harry, who was coming up the stairs.
"Oh!" Ginny said in surprise, then immediately cursed herself for being so klutzy. "Sorry." She made as if to move past him, but Harry stopped her.
"No, it's my fault. I was just coming up to tell you and Hermione that dinner is served, and I guess I wasn't looking where I was going."
"Yes, well…" Ginny motioned towards the kitchen and they walked down the stairs together. Harry was talking, but Ginny was too lost in thought to pay attention.
"Ginny?" Harry said. "Gin?" She snapped out of her daydream, which involved throwing Harry to the ground, beating him up with her enormous…well, nonexistent…muscles, telling him off worse than her mother did George and had Fred, and ending with a huge passionate kiss where everything was forgiven. She replayed the kiss scene several times in her mind.
"Er, yes," Ginny said, hoping that was the right answer. Harry stared at her in disbelief.
"Really?" he said hopefully.
"I dunno, what did I answer yes to?"
"Well, I asked if you like me," Harry said, "and it's too late to take your answer back!"
"What?" Ginny exclaimed. "I wasn't paying attention." Harry's face immediately fell, and Ginny repented.
"Ask me again," she teased. She knew she was flirting hopelessly, and she knew what Hermione would say if she overheard this conversation, but…still.
"Okay. Do you like me, Ginny?"
"Do you like me?" she asked. She was barely breathing now.
"What do you think, Ginny? I wrote a sonnet dedicated to your intelligence, beauty, and kindness. In iambic pentameter. What do you think?"
Caught off guard, Ginny was impressed. "In iambic pentameter? Really?"
"Well, I'm still working on the iambic pentameter," Harry admitted. "But I tried to write a sonnet dedicated to you."
"Well, I…I…" Ginny was at a loss for words. Hermione had told her this, but Ginny hadn't thought she was telling the truth. Maybe Harry really did break up with her for her safety…but that was so patronizing!
"Do you, Ginny?" Harry whispered. Wham! Ginny punched him full in the mouth. There was a gasp from the bottom of the stairs, where Mrs. Weasley had come to find out what was taking so long.
"Ginevra Molly Weasley!" Ginny didn't even hear her. Harry cradled his jaw, looking at Ginny with a wounded expression on his face. Ginny took his face in her hands and kissed him. There was another gasp from downstairs. After what seemed like a long time, they parted breathlessly for air.
"Of course, silly," Ginny said.
"I had forgotten what a good kisser you are," Harry told her. Suddenly they heard applause. Ginny looked up, hands on hips, and glared at Ron and Hermione on the landing, who were clapping and cheering.
"Some privacy, please?"
"When someone's snogging my little sister?" Ron said indignantly. "No way! Anyway, it's time for dinner."
That night Ginny dreamed about Harry. They were kissing…and they went into Ginny's room. They collapsed on the bed and began kissing again. Harry's tongue entered her mouth and she moaned in her sleep. His hands moved up her shirt, slowly, feeling her back—Ginny woke up with a start, sweaty with her hair sticking up at odd angles.
"Was that a nightmare or a dream or a wish?" she wondered out loud as she began to get dressed.
"Gin?" Hermione said hoarsely. "It's barely five in the morning. What are you doing?"
"I just need some fresh air," Ginny said, pulling on a large sweatshirt emblazoned with the Chudley Cannons logo. "I'm going to take a walk."
Harry tossed and turned, unable to sleep. What was going on between him and Ginny? Apparently she liked him, too. And they had kissed. But were they officially "together"? He wished his relationship could be like Ron and Hermione's. It had taken them a while to get together, but once they did, they were inseparable. It would take a miracle to get those two apart. Harry rolled over. Merlin! She was so beautiful. Maybe he should finish that sonnet and go out and recite to her from under her window, by moonlight. Yeah, that'd be nice. Ginny would love that. He turned back over and stared at the wall. Harry glanced at his watch. 5:02. He got out of bed and went to the window, gazing at the field outside the Burrow. The sun was just barely beginning to rise, covering everything with a very faint glow. He went over to the closet and put a Weasley sweater on over his pajamas. Harry decided he'd go outside and take a walk.
Oomph! Harry and Ginny banged into each other on the stairs, for the second time that day. They whispered apologies and headed down, walking on opposite sides of the stairs, heads bent, very deliberately not looking at each other. Once they were outside, Harry opened his mouth to speak, but Ginny placed a finger over her lips, motioning for him to follow her. She led him along a little path circling Stoatshead hill.
"I never even knew this was here!" Harry said in amazement.
"It's where I come when…when I need to think, when I need time away from my brothers." They were now on the opposite side of the hill from the house, and Ginny plopped on the ground and rested her head in her hands.
"I just—I don't know what to do…about you…and me. I like you, but…last time you left me—twice. And I don't think I can handle that happening again."
Harry felt his heart go out to her and sat down next to her. "It won't, Gin. I promise it won't. And both times were for your safety, you can't really—"
Ginny interrupted him. "But what if something happens again? Something that would make me unsafe? Would you break up with me again? Or just go off and leave me without telling me where you're going or anything—" She broke off. "Harry, you don't understand how hard it was for me…for any of us. We didn't know where you'd gone, when you'd be back…if you'd be back. Nothing. But we had to continue about our daily lives like nothing had happened, just pretending. George and—George and Charlie still worked, and Bill was married, and Percy didn't even know. But I had to go back to school, where there were only a couple of teachers, Snape was the headmaster, there were very few students there. And Mum and Dad were at home. It was hardest on us. We had so few distractions. And Mum and Dad are practically your parents; of course they forgave you immediately. But I don't know if I'm ready to yet." Harry saw that her cheeks were wet.
"Gin, I—"
"It helped telling that to someone," she said. "It really did. Hermione doesn't really understand; she just thinks that I should forgive you and we should get together. Well, she wasn't left behind. Okay, Ron left, but he came back soon and they made up before they came home."
"Ginny, I'm so, so sorry," Harry said. "Is there really anything more I can do? I'm sorry."
When they came back to the Burrow, they were holding hands. Now, at last, all was well.