Introduction: The Merits of Cowardice
Ginny,
I'm done thinking that I am not romantic enough, that I'm not honest enough. Romance isn't in me, and my feelings have always been entirely honest. I've never lied about how much I care, never done anything but wait. Hoping that you would see, that you would ask. I'm done. Done with waiting, done with trying, done looking in your eyes and seeing that I am not good enough. I may not be perfection in your eyes, but you'll be hard pressed to find someone willing to sacrifice so much of themselves for you. You will never find another that gave up himself, all for you. And you never cared. You are over me, and I am completely under your thrall. I have to get out. I'll never be happy, but I wont see dismissal in your eyes again. Ever.
I love you now, and forever,
Harry Potter August 4, 1998
Ginny read the note for the thousandth time, give or take, and it hurt her as much now as it ever did. Four years, it had been, since she had spotted the nondescript envelope bearing her name lying on her pillow. Three years since she had last seen Harry Potter. The letter had made her see, as if through new eyes, that he was entirely right. Well, not entirely. She never had gotten over him, but she had been so caught up in denying her own feeling that she had been oblivious to his own. Since her third year she'd run herself ragged playing it cool, no crush. She had even gotten so good at it that she'd dated. Michael Corner, Dean Thomas... a few others. And now that she looked back, she saw, really saw that while she had acted the friend, and only friend, he had watched. He would camp out in a corner and stare at her for as long as he could. Then she remembered that he started disappearing whenever she showed up. She would walk through the door, and his eyes would cloud with pain, then he'd make an excuse and slump out the door. Finally she stopped seeing him at all. He would be in the library or out flying or off doing something or other.
Then he'd graduated full honors and bought a flat in Hogsmeade, barely leaving, accepting only Ron, Hermione, Hagrid or Remus Lupin as guests. Anyone else, and the door wouldn't open, no amount of coaxing changing that fact.
Shortly after Ginny's own graduation, Harry had finally left his flat for the first time (as far as she knew) and visited the Burrow for a two-day long going away party. It was to celebrate his leaving for Auror Training.
The first night had been spent with much food, music, and laughter, yet through it all Harry hadn't once conceded that Ginny even existed. The next morning she awoke to the letter on her pillow, and he was already gone, having left early without telling anyone. Ginny tried her best over the following months to owl him a response, proclaiming her apologies, and desire to see him, to resolve things. And though she never actually wrote the words, to love him, as well. Her owls all came back, unopened. Her desperate last ditch effort to reach him through her fathers Ministry connections brought the reason for his infuriating lack of contact. Security measures are in place, which allow no communication to, or from, Auror Training Center so as to prevent the discovery of location and methods of said school by unauthorized persons. All trainees are unreachable until such time as they graduate, or are dismissed, for whatever reason. In which case their memories shall be altered.
Bastards! Couldn't they see how important this was? She was miserable, hadn't eaten a satisfying meal in months, nor slept. So the years passed, three of them, and then came June 6, the day her father said Aurors graduated, and still no Harry. The ministry would finally admit that he had attended and graduated, and requested an immediate assignment, foregoing the three-month furlough granted to recent graduates. They would not divulge his whereabouts, nor would he receive letters. It seemed he'd put a block on all non- official correspondence. So another year slid by, and it was now October 31, 2002, and Harry Potter, now 22 years old was still no part of Ginny Weasley's life. Or anybody's for that matter. He may as well have dropped completely from the face of the planet. Or never have existed. Like a half-remembered dream...
I am the same person I was before you met me. I don't need friends; I don't trust those who want to be friends. Hogwarts changed me; it made me more dependent on others. Bet you never met a ten year old cynic before, did you? That's what I was before the gentle giant and the endless letters of admittance battered down the door. But that first kind face, Hagrid's, made me look at people differently. I figured then that I wanted to be around them, that they couldn't all be bad. And Hogwarts convinced me. There were good people out in the world.
Then I left for Auror Training and they showed me what people could do. All my preconceptions, formed in a wondrous school in Scotland, broke down then. I discovered that there weren't good people in the world, just varying degrees of bad. Hell, even Dumbledore willingly lied to his trusting pupils, sent healthy men and women with bright futures off to their deaths. Me? I lied, walked away when I should have stayed, beaten honest men to near death because they looked at me funny. I am what I was at age ten, but more. I am vicious and cold. I am an Auror, now. And I am the best, if I can say so. Heh, of course I can, who'd dare say I wasn't?
One of these days you may do something wrong, you'll commit a crime and make a mistake doing it. Then I'll find you. Nobody wants to be found by me, trust me on that. Never mind... all my rambling won't change a thing. You will still do what I know you will, and I will still come for you, and when I do that, you will believe me. The fear in your heart wont allow you not to.
I am Auror Potter, I am the stuff of nightmares, and you will see me... soon enough.
Chapter 1: The Preservation of Chaos
The Daily Prophet
February 15, 2003
Special Article Submission by Auror Harry Potter
Entitled "Auror Potter's Truths of Existence."
"Your mothers raised you to believe that 'violence never solves anything.' I am about to tell you that she was wrong. That violence and conflict solve everything.
"It is not generally known or acknowledged that Voldemort's ultimate goal is order. You wouldn't see it were you to examine his methodology. Yet, if you examine his actions, his words, and his thoughts, it will paint a picture. He aspires to perfect order. He wishes to instill it, control it, and maintain it. You might ask, 'Then why kill muggles, and muggle born? Why kill half-bloods and squibs?' The answer is simple. He is a wizard, and he knows that blood will always stoke antagonism. Muggles will hate wizards, wizards will disdain non-purebloods, fighting will occur. Not Order, but chaos.
"What Voldemort does not know or acknowledge is that chaos is the one necessary element to the universe. He will try to eliminate it so as to maintain his order, and he will therefore remove any threat.
"The universe, and everything after it, came from chaos, random occurrences coming together. Wizards haven't proven through magic the truth understood by muggles, and so don't accept it. It is the so-called 'Big Bang Theory.' The theory states that billions of years ago, everything in the universe, all atoms and subatomic particles, were pulled together by their own gravity. They form a single mass, constricting, becoming smaller, and crushing itself into supercharged, high-energy bomb. It was a bomb that exploded with a force beyond all imagining. This bomb threw the particles out, they collide with one another along they way, become larger particles, then substances, and finally suns, planets, asteroids, moons, galaxies, enormous clouds. The universe was born. Here on earth those particles, and gravity, and radiation, and light, heat, asteroid impacts caused reactions. The catalysts that formed the first living organisms. Those evolved and grew, changed even as the world about them did. Until all that we see, from the trees, to humans and wizards themselves were upon the earth. Everything we know and love is the child of chaos.
"Chaos gave us all the technology and knowledge we possess now. War, the epitome of human conflict, gave us nearly all the medical knowledge humans collectively have access to. These medical procedures were devised on the battlefields to save lives. Conflict will convince men to avoid foolish actions, and conflict will end brutal dictatorships. In the case of some, conflict, or bickering if you prefer, leads to love.
"To imagine perfect order, you see no wars, not accidents, no conflict. But think on this, again: to maintain order one must eliminate threats, and it is in human nature to threaten order. It is what we do. Ultimately, all life will be extinguished to preserve that order, and nothing will remain. In the greater scheme, order ends more life than chaos ever could.
"I am an Auror. We 'protect the people and the peace of the wizarding world.' At least that's what most would believe. I have my own philosophy: I preserve the chaos. I find those who threaten another's life, and I kill him or her. Death is necessary and inevitable. I merely ensure that it befalls he who is least deserving of life. I protect the chaos by feeding it death, and I help the people by removing the dangerous among them. That is how I do my job, and how I show my love for the world."
It was one day after Valentines Day and Ginny had only just got off work at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. The day had been a full of young women looking for antidotes to the mostly thoughtless gifts from the amorous young men in their lives. Product complaints, tearful pleas, and angry rants about the previous days early closing. It was fruitful, however. Antidotes cost more than the products themselves, and Ginny worked on commission.
At the same moment Ginny stepped out the door a scream rent the air to her left, distant. As short as she was, she couldn't identify the source, but her size also allowed her to squeeze her way through the crowds and nearer to the epicenter of the disturbance. Still, it took her a number of minutes to arrive. Looking about, she saw a large open space with hundreds of bystanders merely standing, watching the commotion. Ginny, too, turned her attention to the small group in the center of the clearing.
A young woman, near in age to Ginny, was being dragged by a man in black robes, with a luminescent white mask. A Death Eater! He was dragging her to a small group of his comrades, four of them, each keeping watch on a different part of the enraptured crowd. Ginny couldn't believe it, Hundreds of witches and wizards, and none of them helping! Determined to be the only person to come to the woman's aid, Ginny drew her wand. Yet, before she had taken a step, an Auror in the deepest blue of robes apparated into the open space. Seeing the robes and recognizing what their wearer must be, the other Death Eaters immediately disapparated.
The lone Death Eater, shocked, stopped dragging the woman, but refused to release her. It was obvious that he could not leave her, not against his masters orders, but he could not apparate with a passenger either. It seemed safe for Ginny to assume that one of the now-absent Death Eaters had carried the necessary portkey.
In a slightly frightened tone, the Death Eater hollered to the Auror, at the same time placing his wand beneath his hostage's chin. "You will allow me to leave here, I shall take my hostage with me! Don't interfere lest you wish this pretty young thing to die before your eyes!"
It was not readily apparent to Ginny whether or not the Auror had his wand out, as his back was to her, but she could see that the Death Eater's eyes were riveted to the Auror's chest, where his hands appeared to be. Sounding almost bored with the situation the Auror responded, "I understand and refuse your demands." Ginny did not even realize that she gasped along with nearly everyone else in the crowd. "You will instead release the woman, drop your wand, and surrender yourself to me. I will not allow you to leave this place with or without the woman. Should you kill her, I will immediately thereafter kill you. Take your time to weigh the options, I shall await your response."
A muttering went up amongst the crowd. Such things as "Damn fool's trying to get her killed!" and "He can't be serious!" were seemingly the most common phrases.
The crowd stilled, awaiting the Death Eater's response, as surely was the Auror and the hostage. Finally, the Death Eater lowered his wand, in staccato jerks, until his arm was parallel to his leg, and dropped the wand upon the flagstones. His other arm released the woman, who ran behind the Auror's back and peeked around his shoulder at her erstwhile captor.
Satisfied, the Auror raised his wand, no doubt to stun and bind his prisoner. Without an incantation, a pale orange light sped from the Auror's wand toward the Death Eater. He stumbled back at it struck home in his chest, yet did not fall into unconsciousness, as expected. Instead, he stared at the Auror with wide eyes and coughed. A thick stream of blood flowed down his chin, and he dropped. From Ginny's vantage point, she could see into his eyes. They were empty. He was dead. The Auror had killed an unarmed man, rather than take him into custody, as was protocol.
More whispers rose from the crowd and went ignored by the Auror. He barked out an order that someone was to care for the woman, and then strode off deeper into the crowd, people parting before him. Stunned, Ginny ran after him.
"Auror! Auror, why did you kill him? You didn't have to kill him!" Ginny yelled at his back. His hand casually reached out and snatched an issue of the Daily Prophet from an old man in lime green robes. He handed Ginny the paper and continued on. Ginny watched his hair wave in the warm breeze just before he disapparated.
Realizing that her own wand was still out, Ginny tucked it into the arm of her robes, then glanced down at the paper. Seeing nothing overtly related to the incident, (How could there be? It had only just happened) Ginny shrugged, and then disapparated herself.
When Ginny reappeared, she was in the same room she'd had since birth. She simply couldn't bring herself to leave the comfort of the Burrow. With a sigh, Ginny looked into mirror of her vanity. "I look terrible," She muttered. She set the Prophet on the vanity, gathered her bathrobe, and set off for the shower.
Twenty minutes later, she reentered her room, clean, dry, and smelling of lilac. Still in her bathrobe, she sat at the vanity to brush her hair. On seeing the Prophet, she realized the Auror must have given her the paper for a reason. Determined to discover the reason, see began reading. And there, on page three, she found it. In a disbelieving trance, she read the article three times, before bolting from her chair, and dashing down the stairs for her mother. She had to explain what she'd seen today.
Chapter 3
"Do you remember giving someone a paper after that little scrap in Diagon Alley yesterday, Harry?"
"Yeah, sure. Some woman. She ran after me, yelling something about killing the idiot."
Ron sighed, took sip of his butterbeer, and looked about the pub. It was dark, even at lunchtime. Harry's kind of place. Shaking his head, he asked, "Did you even bother to look at her?"
"Why would I? She was just another bleeding heart, questioning my methods. One of those 'life is precious' types."
"Harry, you great arse, that 'bleeding heart' was Ginny. Oh, don't give me that look. I earned the right to call you whatever the hell I like. Now listen, Ginny runs home to the Burrow and rants to Mum all about how she saw you, then she came to my place." He sighed. "She was so excited. Wanted me to go with her to launch some search for you. Have you any idea how hard it was for not to tell her that I see you every day for lunch?"
"Of course I know how hard it is! I struggle every moment not to run to her myself..."
Harry's voiced trailed off into silence and Ron let it stay that way. Finally, Harry spoke again. "Was it really Ginny? Did she see what I did? I never wanted her to see me kill, Ron."
"Yes, Harry, she saw it. But I don't think she cared so much. I think she just wanted to know why, besides, it was a Death Eater. No great loss."
"I know that, Ron, but it doesn't mean I wanted her to see it."
"She loves you, you oaf. I don't know why, but she does. Why don't you just go to her? Let her? You'll never be happy unless you do."
"She doesn't love me, Ron. She's just feeling guilty. I never should have left that damned letter!"
Ron set his empty glass on the table, stood, and clasped Harry's shoulder. "Harry, mate, I love ya, but you're just about the biggest idiot I've ever stumbled across. I'll see you later, my lunch break's just about over. Before I go, I got to tell you this: Think about coming to dinner at the Burrow. Every Sunday, remember? You got an open invitation. Come and heal old wounds."
Harry sat at the table for twenty minutes longer, nursing a butterbeer. He knew he'd be perfectly welcome at the Burrow, by all of the Weasley's, but could he really bring himself to re-enter their lives? Could he endure seeing Ginny again? He didn't know. He was afraid to find out.
Harry got up and walked outside the pub into the subdued light of Diagon Alley. He looked at the sky. He never could stand winter much. It was too cold and dark. Desolate.
Glancing about him, he saw children, too young for Hogwarts, running around their mothers legs, playing. A look of disgust crossed his face. How could they run, play, laugh? How in the hell could they just frolic about as the world rotted away in front of them? Couldn't they see it? Feel it? It was a pulse in the air, and a surging of undiluted pain oozing into the very cobbles of the streets. Sometimes it struck him so hard that it brought him to his knees.
As Harry se off through the throng the children paid him no mind, but their parents saw him and immediately steered their eyes away. Despite his Auror robes they feared him. It was the way he looked, maybe. Scruffy hair, scruffier facial growth, dangerous, and a scowl. He looked meaner than old Snape at his worst.
Harry decided to take the rest of the day off, go home, and get some sleep. Hw was too tired for all this thinking.
As Sunday rolled around Ron was sitting at the large table of his parents home. As many times as Ron had invited Harry to these ritual family gatherings, Harry had never once accepted. It made Ron sad and angry at the same time.
He and Harry had been in touch with one another since Harry'd finished Auror training, and nobody knew it. He'd promised not to tell anyone, not his parents, not Hermione or Remus, and especially not Ginny. Speaking of which...
She sat across from him. She stopped asking for help finding Harry, but Ron knew that she wouldn't give up, she was just too tenacious. She and Harry, birds of a freaking' feather. Stubborn as mules, and twice as stupid. Still, he couldn't quite blame them. Ginny had been oblivious to Harry's feelings, and that git had run from everything like a coward. The first cowardly thing Ron had ever seen in his best friend.
Molly Weasley finally kicked off dinner by placing two large roasted chickens on the table. Ron reached immediately for the legs of one, but was interrupted by a tapping at the living room window. As everyone else was busy serving themselves already, he took it upon himself to go get the post.
When he reached the window and opened it an owl flew quickly in out of the cold and landed on his shoulder. It was a big, snowy white bird Ron knew all too well., Hedwig. In a daze (Harry never used Hedwig for Ron anymore, there was too much chance that one of his family members might see her) He took the letter, set Hedwig on Errol's old perch, and broke the seal to read.
There was only one word: "Outside."
Ron stuffed the letter into his pocket and went back into the kitchen. "Mum, Dad, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I have to step outside."
"Ron, leaving during a meal?" Said George.
"Death Eaters must be attacking, or do you reckon he's off to meet Hermione for a quick snog by the creek? I don't think anything else could drag his gluttonous arse for a table."
"Boys! That's quite enough. Go ahead Ron, but get back soon, I don't know how long this food'll last."
"Thanks, Dad. You might want to keep plenty of food ready for when I get back, trust me on this." Suddenly he smiled, like he knew something nobody else did. "Be back in a minute."
After stepping outside, Ron set off around the property until he found what he'd hoped to see, just behind the shed.
Harry was clean shaven, for once, and dressed in his finest robes, apparently trying to make the best of impressions. Ron couldn't help himself, he ran up and embraced his oldest friend. "Dammit, Harry! I don't know whether to kiss you for coming or hit you for taking this long to do it! What the hell got you to come?"
"Hedwig... she gave me one of those looks of hers. You know the ones... the 'you're acting like a child' looks. I guess she got to me."
"Well, I don't care much anymore. Just get inside, the family is going to split when you walk through the door."
"Oh god. What am I doing her? I'm going to be sick."
In truth Harry did look a little green in the pale starlight. Too bad, he wasn't walking away now. "Be a man, Harry. You came this far. Head up, one foot in front of the other, lets go."
Ron led Harry to the kitchen door and motioned Harry to wait outside for a moment, then stepped in and cleared his throat. Every Weasley stopped eating and looked at him.
"My, my Ron, don't you look like the cat that caught the canary. What is it, do you have to leave? On a date?" Ron never could understand how his Mum could sound both chipper and worried at the same time, but she was expert at it.
"No, Mum, I'm not leaving. Did you save plenty of food? Good, 'cause I got great news; we have a guest, someone you might not expect."
Confusion flit across every face, then impatience. Ron stayed silent and grinned stupidly for a few moments before Ginny lost patience and ground out, "Well, are you just going to stand there, or do we have to send out gilded invita..." Ginny's voice stopped in a flash, and her jaw dropped with everyone else's. Ron turned his head to see Harry standing on the threshold, looking terrified, before all hell broke lose and he let himself get carried away in the excitement.
After a raucous dinner, the Weasleys, and Harry all took seats in the living room for after dinner drinks and polite conversation. Nobody asked much about Harry's life, either because they were afraid to, or just didn't know how.
Fred was the first to word up the nerve. "You know, Harry, after four and a half years, and Auror training, I expected you to get bigger. You can't be more than... what? Eight stone, one and three quarter meters?"
"'Bout that, little heavier though, closer to 9 stone."
George continued, "Still not much bigger than little Ginny," at this Ginny gave an indignant 'Hey!'.
Ron, having said the same to Harry 14 months earlier, knew what Harry's response would be, and beat him to giving it. "Doesn't much matter, Charlie. Harry may be small, but it's all wiry muscle. Not a man at this table that Harry cant drop in a fist fight. Believe me, he knocked me about like the Twins going after a bludger."
Charlie, ever the adventurist, decided to step up to the challenge. "Come now, Ron, I wrestle bloody dragons for a living, is he 'sposed to take me?"
"In less than ten seconds from the first move, Charlie." Harry looked far too relaxed, dangerous.
"Well now, Harry, I say you and my little brother test that theory, huh?" Bill, followed by Ron, seemed to enjoy this topic more than anyone, if the feral grin on his face was any indication. There had been a long standing rival between the two eldest Weasley children. Charlie, though shorter and younger, was thicker and stronger, and had been coming out on top for a decade. There was nothing Bill wanted more than to see his brother whipped into submission by the scrawny young buck.
"I'm up for it, if Harry is."
"Sounds like a plan, Charlie. Though, two rules. No magic, and no aid from the spectators. Deal?"
Charlie's grin seemed to expand beyond Bills at this. "Deal."
And so, Harry and Charlie stood shirtless in the grass behind the Weasley home, looking like muggle boxers in a classic grudge match.
When Charlie had removed his shirt, all paused to admire the numerous pearly scars adorning his massive chest, back, and arms. Though, when Harry had stripped to the waist, it stopped everyone cold, and nearly brought Ginny to her knees.
He was thin, though by no means scrawny. His muscles, while small, were hard and ropy. They were tiny, but gave the illusion of being large, unnatural in their duplicity. Like Charlie, he was covered in scars, but his were far more gruesome. Charlie's burn scars were smooth and glassy, Harry's scars were mostly the same color, but pebbled in appearance, like a reptiles scales. The most grisly scar, a perfect circle of rough, gray tissue, Harry explained as a Reductor accident from training. He looked as if he had been dragged backward over a rusty cheese grater. For the first time, Charlie began to look worried.
The two combatants faced one another like two sparring martial arts students, a few feet apart. "Remember Charlie, only two rules: No magic, no aid."
"Gotcha."
"Go when you feel comfortable."
For a few moments Charlie waited, apparently deciding on a strategy. Then he lunged forward. He threw his right fist out in a quick jab, and was surprised when Harry grabbed his wrist with his own right hand, and side-stepped so that he was facing the same direction, slightly behind Charlie, and holding Charlie's right arm straight out to the side. He then grabbed Charlie's throat with his left hand, thumb downward, and pushed his hand down and back, the rest of Charlie following. As Charlie fell backwards, Harry went to one knee, his other braced in front of him to bend Charlie's back over, and squeezed his throat tightly. His right hand released Charlie's arm and, quicker than the eye could follow, pulled a long knife from his boot. With Charlie still locked over his knee by the throat, Harry brought the knife down, stopping it just an inch from piercing Charlie's heart.
With that, Molly Weasley screamed, and the fight was over. Four seconds after the first fist was thrown, the fight was over.
With Charlie still bent backward, hand still clamped to his neck, knife still at his chest, Harry bent his head down to Charlie's ear, and whispered, "Dragons are just big snakes with wings. It's a lot harder to wrestle a little man with a knife, isn't it?"
Ron and Bill were laughing like madmen, the Twins were near to collapse in awe, Mr Weasley was clapping politely, and the two women were gasping, with their hands fluttering before their mouths.
As the family went back into the house to talk through the lightning fast sparring match, Harry called to Molly.
"Mrs Weasley! I'll be just a few minutes, Going stay out and have a smoke."
"Harry! I am shocked. As an Auror, you should know that smoking is harmful. One day you'll be cough your lungs out and some Death Eater'll take advantage of the situation."
"Am I a wizard, or aren't I? Healing charms, remember? No harm, no foul, Mrs Weasley. I'll be in later."
With a reproachful glance, Molly Weasley went into the house to join her family.
Harry picked a nice shadowy corner of the yard, sat on the grass, and lit up a cigarette. A bad habit, yes, but most Aurors, like soldiers, knew that there was hardly a better way to soothe the nerves. He sat like that for ten minutes, and was halfway through his second cigarette, when the soft sound of bare feet on dry, brown grass alerted him to someone trying to come up quietly behind him. He could tell just by the lightness of the steps that it could only be Ginny. He was afraid of this moment.
"Hi Harry, mum sent me out to make sure you hadn't run off again." Harry winced. "Sorry, her words. Mind if I sit?" He shook his head, but didn't look at her.
Ginny sat close to Harry, but not so close as to make it uncomfortable for either of them. They sat that way for another two minutes, until Harry vanished the butt of his cigarette with a simple, third year cleaning spell.
"When'd you take up smoking, Harry? Doesn't seem like you."
Harry thought a moment. "Not like I used to be, you mean. I'm different now, grown up. Besides, ask most any Auror, smoking helps you calm down, relax. It relieves the tension, even if it does screw up your night vision. We never smoke on night missions, we can't see so well, and the cherry gives away our position like a beacon..." Harry stopped, and then continued. Quietly, as if you himself. "I'm rambling again."
"That's just the way you are, either rambling off about nothing in particular, or as quiet as a church mouse."
"Yeah..."
They lapsed into silence again, watching the trees and hedges rustle in the light breeze.
"I'm sorry that you had to see that yesterday. Ron told me you were there."
"It's a war, Harry, I'm bound to see some death every once in a while. And speaking of Ron, how long have you and he been in contact? I've tried to write you forever, and my letters always come back unopened."
"I don't accept post, from anyone. I got back in touch with Ron at the Ministry. He was giving testimony about that break in at his department. I was escorting the prisoner. We agreed to have lunch, and have every other day or so since. For the last 14 months."
Ginny seemed to exploded outward with a patented Weasley woman shriek, and Harry finally looked at her, in surprise. "14 months?! And he never told us?! We're family, didn't he think we'd want to know?!"
"He didn't tell you cause I made him promise not to. He knew he'd never see me again if he did. Didn't stop him from berating me to come see you all, through. If nothing else, the big galoot sticks to something he starts. But he kept his promise, and I'm grateful."
At first Ginny just looked incredulous, then accepting. What else could be said? "You should have come to see us sooner. Especially me. We have a lot to talk about, you and I."
"I don't think so. I said all I had to say."
"In your letter, yeah. But you never gave me a chance to respond. I had to wait four and a half years to finally talk to you."
"You didn't have to say anything."
"Don't you give me that, Harry James Potter! You have no idea what I would have said. You can't imagine what that letter did to me. I was in hysterics for weeks, I still don't sleep well."
"You don't have to feel guilty, Ginny, Not on my account. You couldn't help how you felt."
"You haven't a clue how I felt! You left without bothering to find out!"
Ginny silently watched and waited for Harry's next inane retort, panting slightly in her anger. It wasn't what she expected.
"Your right, of course. But what else was I to think? Actions speak louder than words, and your actions were crystal clear. I know how to cut my losses."
Ginny was at a loss for words. Sometimes he can be as daft as Ron. No, dafter! Not that she hadn't always known that. After all, she followed him life a hungry puppy for three years, and he never had a clue. Finally, she decided to move on to a less volatile topic.
She sighed. "So, how do you manage to keep fit? Weights, like Ron?"
Harry laughed, genuinely. "Not hardly. I just run a lot, and spar, like I did with Charlie. Though my sparring partners are much more skilled, and the matches last much longer. A hell of a work out. And there is the added benefit of never getting big, like Ron. I stay thin, and most people underestimate me. Nobody expects a skinny geek like me to be much trouble."
"In my experience, it's skinny geeks like you that are the most trouble."
"Yeah, you're probably right. Anyway, let's get inside before your mum sends a search party."
Ginny,
I'm done thinking that I am not romantic enough, that I'm not honest enough. Romance isn't in me, and my feelings have always been entirely honest. I've never lied about how much I care, never done anything but wait. Hoping that you would see, that you would ask. I'm done. Done with waiting, done with trying, done looking in your eyes and seeing that I am not good enough. I may not be perfection in your eyes, but you'll be hard pressed to find someone willing to sacrifice so much of themselves for you. You will never find another that gave up himself, all for you. And you never cared. You are over me, and I am completely under your thrall. I have to get out. I'll never be happy, but I wont see dismissal in your eyes again. Ever.
I love you now, and forever,
Harry Potter August 4, 1998
Ginny read the note for the thousandth time, give or take, and it hurt her as much now as it ever did. Four years, it had been, since she had spotted the nondescript envelope bearing her name lying on her pillow. Three years since she had last seen Harry Potter. The letter had made her see, as if through new eyes, that he was entirely right. Well, not entirely. She never had gotten over him, but she had been so caught up in denying her own feeling that she had been oblivious to his own. Since her third year she'd run herself ragged playing it cool, no crush. She had even gotten so good at it that she'd dated. Michael Corner, Dean Thomas... a few others. And now that she looked back, she saw, really saw that while she had acted the friend, and only friend, he had watched. He would camp out in a corner and stare at her for as long as he could. Then she remembered that he started disappearing whenever she showed up. She would walk through the door, and his eyes would cloud with pain, then he'd make an excuse and slump out the door. Finally she stopped seeing him at all. He would be in the library or out flying or off doing something or other.
Then he'd graduated full honors and bought a flat in Hogsmeade, barely leaving, accepting only Ron, Hermione, Hagrid or Remus Lupin as guests. Anyone else, and the door wouldn't open, no amount of coaxing changing that fact.
Shortly after Ginny's own graduation, Harry had finally left his flat for the first time (as far as she knew) and visited the Burrow for a two-day long going away party. It was to celebrate his leaving for Auror Training.
The first night had been spent with much food, music, and laughter, yet through it all Harry hadn't once conceded that Ginny even existed. The next morning she awoke to the letter on her pillow, and he was already gone, having left early without telling anyone. Ginny tried her best over the following months to owl him a response, proclaiming her apologies, and desire to see him, to resolve things. And though she never actually wrote the words, to love him, as well. Her owls all came back, unopened. Her desperate last ditch effort to reach him through her fathers Ministry connections brought the reason for his infuriating lack of contact. Security measures are in place, which allow no communication to, or from, Auror Training Center so as to prevent the discovery of location and methods of said school by unauthorized persons. All trainees are unreachable until such time as they graduate, or are dismissed, for whatever reason. In which case their memories shall be altered.
Bastards! Couldn't they see how important this was? She was miserable, hadn't eaten a satisfying meal in months, nor slept. So the years passed, three of them, and then came June 6, the day her father said Aurors graduated, and still no Harry. The ministry would finally admit that he had attended and graduated, and requested an immediate assignment, foregoing the three-month furlough granted to recent graduates. They would not divulge his whereabouts, nor would he receive letters. It seemed he'd put a block on all non- official correspondence. So another year slid by, and it was now October 31, 2002, and Harry Potter, now 22 years old was still no part of Ginny Weasley's life. Or anybody's for that matter. He may as well have dropped completely from the face of the planet. Or never have existed. Like a half-remembered dream...
I am the same person I was before you met me. I don't need friends; I don't trust those who want to be friends. Hogwarts changed me; it made me more dependent on others. Bet you never met a ten year old cynic before, did you? That's what I was before the gentle giant and the endless letters of admittance battered down the door. But that first kind face, Hagrid's, made me look at people differently. I figured then that I wanted to be around them, that they couldn't all be bad. And Hogwarts convinced me. There were good people out in the world.
Then I left for Auror Training and they showed me what people could do. All my preconceptions, formed in a wondrous school in Scotland, broke down then. I discovered that there weren't good people in the world, just varying degrees of bad. Hell, even Dumbledore willingly lied to his trusting pupils, sent healthy men and women with bright futures off to their deaths. Me? I lied, walked away when I should have stayed, beaten honest men to near death because they looked at me funny. I am what I was at age ten, but more. I am vicious and cold. I am an Auror, now. And I am the best, if I can say so. Heh, of course I can, who'd dare say I wasn't?
One of these days you may do something wrong, you'll commit a crime and make a mistake doing it. Then I'll find you. Nobody wants to be found by me, trust me on that. Never mind... all my rambling won't change a thing. You will still do what I know you will, and I will still come for you, and when I do that, you will believe me. The fear in your heart wont allow you not to.
I am Auror Potter, I am the stuff of nightmares, and you will see me... soon enough.
Chapter 1: The Preservation of Chaos
The Daily Prophet
February 15, 2003
Special Article Submission by Auror Harry Potter
Entitled "Auror Potter's Truths of Existence."
"Your mothers raised you to believe that 'violence never solves anything.' I am about to tell you that she was wrong. That violence and conflict solve everything.
"It is not generally known or acknowledged that Voldemort's ultimate goal is order. You wouldn't see it were you to examine his methodology. Yet, if you examine his actions, his words, and his thoughts, it will paint a picture. He aspires to perfect order. He wishes to instill it, control it, and maintain it. You might ask, 'Then why kill muggles, and muggle born? Why kill half-bloods and squibs?' The answer is simple. He is a wizard, and he knows that blood will always stoke antagonism. Muggles will hate wizards, wizards will disdain non-purebloods, fighting will occur. Not Order, but chaos.
"What Voldemort does not know or acknowledge is that chaos is the one necessary element to the universe. He will try to eliminate it so as to maintain his order, and he will therefore remove any threat.
"The universe, and everything after it, came from chaos, random occurrences coming together. Wizards haven't proven through magic the truth understood by muggles, and so don't accept it. It is the so-called 'Big Bang Theory.' The theory states that billions of years ago, everything in the universe, all atoms and subatomic particles, were pulled together by their own gravity. They form a single mass, constricting, becoming smaller, and crushing itself into supercharged, high-energy bomb. It was a bomb that exploded with a force beyond all imagining. This bomb threw the particles out, they collide with one another along they way, become larger particles, then substances, and finally suns, planets, asteroids, moons, galaxies, enormous clouds. The universe was born. Here on earth those particles, and gravity, and radiation, and light, heat, asteroid impacts caused reactions. The catalysts that formed the first living organisms. Those evolved and grew, changed even as the world about them did. Until all that we see, from the trees, to humans and wizards themselves were upon the earth. Everything we know and love is the child of chaos.
"Chaos gave us all the technology and knowledge we possess now. War, the epitome of human conflict, gave us nearly all the medical knowledge humans collectively have access to. These medical procedures were devised on the battlefields to save lives. Conflict will convince men to avoid foolish actions, and conflict will end brutal dictatorships. In the case of some, conflict, or bickering if you prefer, leads to love.
"To imagine perfect order, you see no wars, not accidents, no conflict. But think on this, again: to maintain order one must eliminate threats, and it is in human nature to threaten order. It is what we do. Ultimately, all life will be extinguished to preserve that order, and nothing will remain. In the greater scheme, order ends more life than chaos ever could.
"I am an Auror. We 'protect the people and the peace of the wizarding world.' At least that's what most would believe. I have my own philosophy: I preserve the chaos. I find those who threaten another's life, and I kill him or her. Death is necessary and inevitable. I merely ensure that it befalls he who is least deserving of life. I protect the chaos by feeding it death, and I help the people by removing the dangerous among them. That is how I do my job, and how I show my love for the world."
It was one day after Valentines Day and Ginny had only just got off work at Weasleys Wizard Wheezes. The day had been a full of young women looking for antidotes to the mostly thoughtless gifts from the amorous young men in their lives. Product complaints, tearful pleas, and angry rants about the previous days early closing. It was fruitful, however. Antidotes cost more than the products themselves, and Ginny worked on commission.
At the same moment Ginny stepped out the door a scream rent the air to her left, distant. As short as she was, she couldn't identify the source, but her size also allowed her to squeeze her way through the crowds and nearer to the epicenter of the disturbance. Still, it took her a number of minutes to arrive. Looking about, she saw a large open space with hundreds of bystanders merely standing, watching the commotion. Ginny, too, turned her attention to the small group in the center of the clearing.
A young woman, near in age to Ginny, was being dragged by a man in black robes, with a luminescent white mask. A Death Eater! He was dragging her to a small group of his comrades, four of them, each keeping watch on a different part of the enraptured crowd. Ginny couldn't believe it, Hundreds of witches and wizards, and none of them helping! Determined to be the only person to come to the woman's aid, Ginny drew her wand. Yet, before she had taken a step, an Auror in the deepest blue of robes apparated into the open space. Seeing the robes and recognizing what their wearer must be, the other Death Eaters immediately disapparated.
The lone Death Eater, shocked, stopped dragging the woman, but refused to release her. It was obvious that he could not leave her, not against his masters orders, but he could not apparate with a passenger either. It seemed safe for Ginny to assume that one of the now-absent Death Eaters had carried the necessary portkey.
In a slightly frightened tone, the Death Eater hollered to the Auror, at the same time placing his wand beneath his hostage's chin. "You will allow me to leave here, I shall take my hostage with me! Don't interfere lest you wish this pretty young thing to die before your eyes!"
It was not readily apparent to Ginny whether or not the Auror had his wand out, as his back was to her, but she could see that the Death Eater's eyes were riveted to the Auror's chest, where his hands appeared to be. Sounding almost bored with the situation the Auror responded, "I understand and refuse your demands." Ginny did not even realize that she gasped along with nearly everyone else in the crowd. "You will instead release the woman, drop your wand, and surrender yourself to me. I will not allow you to leave this place with or without the woman. Should you kill her, I will immediately thereafter kill you. Take your time to weigh the options, I shall await your response."
A muttering went up amongst the crowd. Such things as "Damn fool's trying to get her killed!" and "He can't be serious!" were seemingly the most common phrases.
The crowd stilled, awaiting the Death Eater's response, as surely was the Auror and the hostage. Finally, the Death Eater lowered his wand, in staccato jerks, until his arm was parallel to his leg, and dropped the wand upon the flagstones. His other arm released the woman, who ran behind the Auror's back and peeked around his shoulder at her erstwhile captor.
Satisfied, the Auror raised his wand, no doubt to stun and bind his prisoner. Without an incantation, a pale orange light sped from the Auror's wand toward the Death Eater. He stumbled back at it struck home in his chest, yet did not fall into unconsciousness, as expected. Instead, he stared at the Auror with wide eyes and coughed. A thick stream of blood flowed down his chin, and he dropped. From Ginny's vantage point, she could see into his eyes. They were empty. He was dead. The Auror had killed an unarmed man, rather than take him into custody, as was protocol.
More whispers rose from the crowd and went ignored by the Auror. He barked out an order that someone was to care for the woman, and then strode off deeper into the crowd, people parting before him. Stunned, Ginny ran after him.
"Auror! Auror, why did you kill him? You didn't have to kill him!" Ginny yelled at his back. His hand casually reached out and snatched an issue of the Daily Prophet from an old man in lime green robes. He handed Ginny the paper and continued on. Ginny watched his hair wave in the warm breeze just before he disapparated.
Realizing that her own wand was still out, Ginny tucked it into the arm of her robes, then glanced down at the paper. Seeing nothing overtly related to the incident, (How could there be? It had only just happened) Ginny shrugged, and then disapparated herself.
When Ginny reappeared, she was in the same room she'd had since birth. She simply couldn't bring herself to leave the comfort of the Burrow. With a sigh, Ginny looked into mirror of her vanity. "I look terrible," She muttered. She set the Prophet on the vanity, gathered her bathrobe, and set off for the shower.
Twenty minutes later, she reentered her room, clean, dry, and smelling of lilac. Still in her bathrobe, she sat at the vanity to brush her hair. On seeing the Prophet, she realized the Auror must have given her the paper for a reason. Determined to discover the reason, see began reading. And there, on page three, she found it. In a disbelieving trance, she read the article three times, before bolting from her chair, and dashing down the stairs for her mother. She had to explain what she'd seen today.
Chapter 3
"Do you remember giving someone a paper after that little scrap in Diagon Alley yesterday, Harry?"
"Yeah, sure. Some woman. She ran after me, yelling something about killing the idiot."
Ron sighed, took sip of his butterbeer, and looked about the pub. It was dark, even at lunchtime. Harry's kind of place. Shaking his head, he asked, "Did you even bother to look at her?"
"Why would I? She was just another bleeding heart, questioning my methods. One of those 'life is precious' types."
"Harry, you great arse, that 'bleeding heart' was Ginny. Oh, don't give me that look. I earned the right to call you whatever the hell I like. Now listen, Ginny runs home to the Burrow and rants to Mum all about how she saw you, then she came to my place." He sighed. "She was so excited. Wanted me to go with her to launch some search for you. Have you any idea how hard it was for not to tell her that I see you every day for lunch?"
"Of course I know how hard it is! I struggle every moment not to run to her myself..."
Harry's voiced trailed off into silence and Ron let it stay that way. Finally, Harry spoke again. "Was it really Ginny? Did she see what I did? I never wanted her to see me kill, Ron."
"Yes, Harry, she saw it. But I don't think she cared so much. I think she just wanted to know why, besides, it was a Death Eater. No great loss."
"I know that, Ron, but it doesn't mean I wanted her to see it."
"She loves you, you oaf. I don't know why, but she does. Why don't you just go to her? Let her? You'll never be happy unless you do."
"She doesn't love me, Ron. She's just feeling guilty. I never should have left that damned letter!"
Ron set his empty glass on the table, stood, and clasped Harry's shoulder. "Harry, mate, I love ya, but you're just about the biggest idiot I've ever stumbled across. I'll see you later, my lunch break's just about over. Before I go, I got to tell you this: Think about coming to dinner at the Burrow. Every Sunday, remember? You got an open invitation. Come and heal old wounds."
Harry sat at the table for twenty minutes longer, nursing a butterbeer. He knew he'd be perfectly welcome at the Burrow, by all of the Weasley's, but could he really bring himself to re-enter their lives? Could he endure seeing Ginny again? He didn't know. He was afraid to find out.
Harry got up and walked outside the pub into the subdued light of Diagon Alley. He looked at the sky. He never could stand winter much. It was too cold and dark. Desolate.
Glancing about him, he saw children, too young for Hogwarts, running around their mothers legs, playing. A look of disgust crossed his face. How could they run, play, laugh? How in the hell could they just frolic about as the world rotted away in front of them? Couldn't they see it? Feel it? It was a pulse in the air, and a surging of undiluted pain oozing into the very cobbles of the streets. Sometimes it struck him so hard that it brought him to his knees.
As Harry se off through the throng the children paid him no mind, but their parents saw him and immediately steered their eyes away. Despite his Auror robes they feared him. It was the way he looked, maybe. Scruffy hair, scruffier facial growth, dangerous, and a scowl. He looked meaner than old Snape at his worst.
Harry decided to take the rest of the day off, go home, and get some sleep. Hw was too tired for all this thinking.
As Sunday rolled around Ron was sitting at the large table of his parents home. As many times as Ron had invited Harry to these ritual family gatherings, Harry had never once accepted. It made Ron sad and angry at the same time.
He and Harry had been in touch with one another since Harry'd finished Auror training, and nobody knew it. He'd promised not to tell anyone, not his parents, not Hermione or Remus, and especially not Ginny. Speaking of which...
She sat across from him. She stopped asking for help finding Harry, but Ron knew that she wouldn't give up, she was just too tenacious. She and Harry, birds of a freaking' feather. Stubborn as mules, and twice as stupid. Still, he couldn't quite blame them. Ginny had been oblivious to Harry's feelings, and that git had run from everything like a coward. The first cowardly thing Ron had ever seen in his best friend.
Molly Weasley finally kicked off dinner by placing two large roasted chickens on the table. Ron reached immediately for the legs of one, but was interrupted by a tapping at the living room window. As everyone else was busy serving themselves already, he took it upon himself to go get the post.
When he reached the window and opened it an owl flew quickly in out of the cold and landed on his shoulder. It was a big, snowy white bird Ron knew all too well., Hedwig. In a daze (Harry never used Hedwig for Ron anymore, there was too much chance that one of his family members might see her) He took the letter, set Hedwig on Errol's old perch, and broke the seal to read.
There was only one word: "Outside."
Ron stuffed the letter into his pocket and went back into the kitchen. "Mum, Dad, if you'll excuse me for a moment, I have to step outside."
"Ron, leaving during a meal?" Said George.
"Death Eaters must be attacking, or do you reckon he's off to meet Hermione for a quick snog by the creek? I don't think anything else could drag his gluttonous arse for a table."
"Boys! That's quite enough. Go ahead Ron, but get back soon, I don't know how long this food'll last."
"Thanks, Dad. You might want to keep plenty of food ready for when I get back, trust me on this." Suddenly he smiled, like he knew something nobody else did. "Be back in a minute."
After stepping outside, Ron set off around the property until he found what he'd hoped to see, just behind the shed.
Harry was clean shaven, for once, and dressed in his finest robes, apparently trying to make the best of impressions. Ron couldn't help himself, he ran up and embraced his oldest friend. "Dammit, Harry! I don't know whether to kiss you for coming or hit you for taking this long to do it! What the hell got you to come?"
"Hedwig... she gave me one of those looks of hers. You know the ones... the 'you're acting like a child' looks. I guess she got to me."
"Well, I don't care much anymore. Just get inside, the family is going to split when you walk through the door."
"Oh god. What am I doing her? I'm going to be sick."
In truth Harry did look a little green in the pale starlight. Too bad, he wasn't walking away now. "Be a man, Harry. You came this far. Head up, one foot in front of the other, lets go."
Ron led Harry to the kitchen door and motioned Harry to wait outside for a moment, then stepped in and cleared his throat. Every Weasley stopped eating and looked at him.
"My, my Ron, don't you look like the cat that caught the canary. What is it, do you have to leave? On a date?" Ron never could understand how his Mum could sound both chipper and worried at the same time, but she was expert at it.
"No, Mum, I'm not leaving. Did you save plenty of food? Good, 'cause I got great news; we have a guest, someone you might not expect."
Confusion flit across every face, then impatience. Ron stayed silent and grinned stupidly for a few moments before Ginny lost patience and ground out, "Well, are you just going to stand there, or do we have to send out gilded invita..." Ginny's voice stopped in a flash, and her jaw dropped with everyone else's. Ron turned his head to see Harry standing on the threshold, looking terrified, before all hell broke lose and he let himself get carried away in the excitement.
After a raucous dinner, the Weasleys, and Harry all took seats in the living room for after dinner drinks and polite conversation. Nobody asked much about Harry's life, either because they were afraid to, or just didn't know how.
Fred was the first to word up the nerve. "You know, Harry, after four and a half years, and Auror training, I expected you to get bigger. You can't be more than... what? Eight stone, one and three quarter meters?"
"'Bout that, little heavier though, closer to 9 stone."
George continued, "Still not much bigger than little Ginny," at this Ginny gave an indignant 'Hey!'.
Ron, having said the same to Harry 14 months earlier, knew what Harry's response would be, and beat him to giving it. "Doesn't much matter, Charlie. Harry may be small, but it's all wiry muscle. Not a man at this table that Harry cant drop in a fist fight. Believe me, he knocked me about like the Twins going after a bludger."
Charlie, ever the adventurist, decided to step up to the challenge. "Come now, Ron, I wrestle bloody dragons for a living, is he 'sposed to take me?"
"In less than ten seconds from the first move, Charlie." Harry looked far too relaxed, dangerous.
"Well now, Harry, I say you and my little brother test that theory, huh?" Bill, followed by Ron, seemed to enjoy this topic more than anyone, if the feral grin on his face was any indication. There had been a long standing rival between the two eldest Weasley children. Charlie, though shorter and younger, was thicker and stronger, and had been coming out on top for a decade. There was nothing Bill wanted more than to see his brother whipped into submission by the scrawny young buck.
"I'm up for it, if Harry is."
"Sounds like a plan, Charlie. Though, two rules. No magic, and no aid from the spectators. Deal?"
Charlie's grin seemed to expand beyond Bills at this. "Deal."
And so, Harry and Charlie stood shirtless in the grass behind the Weasley home, looking like muggle boxers in a classic grudge match.
When Charlie had removed his shirt, all paused to admire the numerous pearly scars adorning his massive chest, back, and arms. Though, when Harry had stripped to the waist, it stopped everyone cold, and nearly brought Ginny to her knees.
He was thin, though by no means scrawny. His muscles, while small, were hard and ropy. They were tiny, but gave the illusion of being large, unnatural in their duplicity. Like Charlie, he was covered in scars, but his were far more gruesome. Charlie's burn scars were smooth and glassy, Harry's scars were mostly the same color, but pebbled in appearance, like a reptiles scales. The most grisly scar, a perfect circle of rough, gray tissue, Harry explained as a Reductor accident from training. He looked as if he had been dragged backward over a rusty cheese grater. For the first time, Charlie began to look worried.
The two combatants faced one another like two sparring martial arts students, a few feet apart. "Remember Charlie, only two rules: No magic, no aid."
"Gotcha."
"Go when you feel comfortable."
For a few moments Charlie waited, apparently deciding on a strategy. Then he lunged forward. He threw his right fist out in a quick jab, and was surprised when Harry grabbed his wrist with his own right hand, and side-stepped so that he was facing the same direction, slightly behind Charlie, and holding Charlie's right arm straight out to the side. He then grabbed Charlie's throat with his left hand, thumb downward, and pushed his hand down and back, the rest of Charlie following. As Charlie fell backwards, Harry went to one knee, his other braced in front of him to bend Charlie's back over, and squeezed his throat tightly. His right hand released Charlie's arm and, quicker than the eye could follow, pulled a long knife from his boot. With Charlie still locked over his knee by the throat, Harry brought the knife down, stopping it just an inch from piercing Charlie's heart.
With that, Molly Weasley screamed, and the fight was over. Four seconds after the first fist was thrown, the fight was over.
With Charlie still bent backward, hand still clamped to his neck, knife still at his chest, Harry bent his head down to Charlie's ear, and whispered, "Dragons are just big snakes with wings. It's a lot harder to wrestle a little man with a knife, isn't it?"
Ron and Bill were laughing like madmen, the Twins were near to collapse in awe, Mr Weasley was clapping politely, and the two women were gasping, with their hands fluttering before their mouths.
As the family went back into the house to talk through the lightning fast sparring match, Harry called to Molly.
"Mrs Weasley! I'll be just a few minutes, Going stay out and have a smoke."
"Harry! I am shocked. As an Auror, you should know that smoking is harmful. One day you'll be cough your lungs out and some Death Eater'll take advantage of the situation."
"Am I a wizard, or aren't I? Healing charms, remember? No harm, no foul, Mrs Weasley. I'll be in later."
With a reproachful glance, Molly Weasley went into the house to join her family.
Harry picked a nice shadowy corner of the yard, sat on the grass, and lit up a cigarette. A bad habit, yes, but most Aurors, like soldiers, knew that there was hardly a better way to soothe the nerves. He sat like that for ten minutes, and was halfway through his second cigarette, when the soft sound of bare feet on dry, brown grass alerted him to someone trying to come up quietly behind him. He could tell just by the lightness of the steps that it could only be Ginny. He was afraid of this moment.
"Hi Harry, mum sent me out to make sure you hadn't run off again." Harry winced. "Sorry, her words. Mind if I sit?" He shook his head, but didn't look at her.
Ginny sat close to Harry, but not so close as to make it uncomfortable for either of them. They sat that way for another two minutes, until Harry vanished the butt of his cigarette with a simple, third year cleaning spell.
"When'd you take up smoking, Harry? Doesn't seem like you."
Harry thought a moment. "Not like I used to be, you mean. I'm different now, grown up. Besides, ask most any Auror, smoking helps you calm down, relax. It relieves the tension, even if it does screw up your night vision. We never smoke on night missions, we can't see so well, and the cherry gives away our position like a beacon..." Harry stopped, and then continued. Quietly, as if you himself. "I'm rambling again."
"That's just the way you are, either rambling off about nothing in particular, or as quiet as a church mouse."
"Yeah..."
They lapsed into silence again, watching the trees and hedges rustle in the light breeze.
"I'm sorry that you had to see that yesterday. Ron told me you were there."
"It's a war, Harry, I'm bound to see some death every once in a while. And speaking of Ron, how long have you and he been in contact? I've tried to write you forever, and my letters always come back unopened."
"I don't accept post, from anyone. I got back in touch with Ron at the Ministry. He was giving testimony about that break in at his department. I was escorting the prisoner. We agreed to have lunch, and have every other day or so since. For the last 14 months."
Ginny seemed to exploded outward with a patented Weasley woman shriek, and Harry finally looked at her, in surprise. "14 months?! And he never told us?! We're family, didn't he think we'd want to know?!"
"He didn't tell you cause I made him promise not to. He knew he'd never see me again if he did. Didn't stop him from berating me to come see you all, through. If nothing else, the big galoot sticks to something he starts. But he kept his promise, and I'm grateful."
At first Ginny just looked incredulous, then accepting. What else could be said? "You should have come to see us sooner. Especially me. We have a lot to talk about, you and I."
"I don't think so. I said all I had to say."
"In your letter, yeah. But you never gave me a chance to respond. I had to wait four and a half years to finally talk to you."
"You didn't have to say anything."
"Don't you give me that, Harry James Potter! You have no idea what I would have said. You can't imagine what that letter did to me. I was in hysterics for weeks, I still don't sleep well."
"You don't have to feel guilty, Ginny, Not on my account. You couldn't help how you felt."
"You haven't a clue how I felt! You left without bothering to find out!"
Ginny silently watched and waited for Harry's next inane retort, panting slightly in her anger. It wasn't what she expected.
"Your right, of course. But what else was I to think? Actions speak louder than words, and your actions were crystal clear. I know how to cut my losses."
Ginny was at a loss for words. Sometimes he can be as daft as Ron. No, dafter! Not that she hadn't always known that. After all, she followed him life a hungry puppy for three years, and he never had a clue. Finally, she decided to move on to a less volatile topic.
She sighed. "So, how do you manage to keep fit? Weights, like Ron?"
Harry laughed, genuinely. "Not hardly. I just run a lot, and spar, like I did with Charlie. Though my sparring partners are much more skilled, and the matches last much longer. A hell of a work out. And there is the added benefit of never getting big, like Ron. I stay thin, and most people underestimate me. Nobody expects a skinny geek like me to be much trouble."
"In my experience, it's skinny geeks like you that are the most trouble."
"Yeah, you're probably right. Anyway, let's get inside before your mum sends a search party."