Part One: The Resistance of the Soul Bond
Book: The Executor of Azkaban
Chapter: Trouble Finds Me
Harry spent the next several weeks relishing in his newfound freedom within Diagon Alley. Although he was careful not to withdraw too many coins from his parents vault, he found himself spending more and more every day. Fellow wizards and witches began to recognize him as a familiar customer, and their cheerful, genuine smiles followed him around the stores. There was always time for ice cream at Florean Fortescue's Icea Cream Parlour, and the day was always sunny, although Harry suspected that was a charm, rather than the fortitudinous weather.
Ginny, on the hand, was growing more and more miserable, and therefore growing more and more cranky.
No I'm not!
Quiet, I'm thinking.
Don't tell me to be quite, Harry James Potter. When I see you I'm going to cast a curse on your bits so dangerous you won't be able to walk straight for days….
Yes, as Harry was always aware, Ginny was definitely more cranky. A lack of sleep from nightmares, not just her own from the chamber, but now sharing Harry's nightmares on her few nights of freedom meant that she was constantly fatigued. In addition to her family treating her like a fine china doll statue after being possessed by Tom, Harry's joyful emotions that thrummed through the chords only further irritated her.
She had finally snapped when Molly had asked her to write down the ingredients to the home made Weasley pudding, and just moments after Ginny had lowered her quill onto the paper, Ron had yanked the feather out of her hand, and quickly began scribing in her place. Her mother paled when she realized what she had just asked Ginny, and the twins fell awkwardly silent. That they thought she was too fragile to even write anymore had been the final snowflake.
I had a headache for the rest of the day after that.
No one asked you to listen in.
No, they didn't, but I was still forced to.
The chord thrummed in morose agreement.
Harry sat in his trademark stall within the leaky cauldron, enjoying a warm breakfast of croissants and tea. A magical newspaper lay in front of him, images flickering back and forth, distracting the reader from the written contents of the words. Honestly, it was like playing Tom and Jerry cartoons on the green screens of a television news program; distracting and unnecessary. Nonetheless, Harry found himself absorbed in one of the pictures in particular.
Oi, big head, stop staring at yourself
It's him I'm staring at, not me.
Staring at Lockhart is just as weird Harry.
On the front cover of the Daily Prophet was a photo taken exactly one year ago. A very proud, boisterous Lockhart with a charming, pearly smile stood within Flourish and Blotts, an arm wrapped casually around younger Harry's shoulders, who was looking extremely uncomfortable. Above the picture that Harry had trouble dragging his eyes off was headline written in large, bold letters.
The Annual Notorious Achievements of Lockhart Day?
Indeed, I couldn't think of anything worse.
I find myself agreeing with you for once, Harry. What are they celebrating?
It seems that today's the anniversary of the day Lockhart announced he would begin teaching at Hogwarts. His fans believe that was the moment the Hogwarts teaching curse took a hold of him, so they believe his downfall should be remembered every year on this day. They'll be parading down Diagon Alley today.
…that's…. horrible…
It is.
…Wait, what was it called again?
The Annual Notorious Achievements of Lockhart Day… wait a minute…
A.N.A.L Day.
How quaint.
I'm not doing it.
No one's forcing you to.
You're forcing me to.
I'm not forcing, I'm asking.
Well, ask nicer.
Harry glared into the dressing mirror. His own scrawny body defiantly withstood his glare. A single, wicked scar and marked his bare chest, evidence of his childhood at Privet Drive. He was glad he was currently hidden within a small changing cubicle, with magically reinforced walls to prevent anyone seeing in and seeing his frail body. Even Ginny couldn't see that side of him. She could only hear his self-depressing thoughts.
Within that minute changing cubicle, Harry held a flowery, white dress at arms length, his fingers barely curled around the fabric, as if he were holding a deadly snake.
I am not wearing a dress!
Back scratching, remember?
I'd rather not…
I got you away from the Dursley's, so now you owe me.
And the reason you want me to try on the dress is because?
Because you're a boy, and therefore have absolutely no skill in describing clothes to me.
I told you that it was white and flowery!
That tells me absolutely nothing!
Objection! That tells you that it's white, and that it's flowery.
And to a girl, that could mean anything.
Harry stared at the revolting piece of cloth in his arms. In actuality, it wasn't that disgusting; it was actually quite a lovely looking dress, but Harry didn't quite know how to translate that into thoughts for Ginny.
Uhh, this would be so much easier if I could just see what you're seeing.
Don't push it Ginny, this mind speak stuff is bad enough.
Good point, let's pray that never happens.
Harry felt an ominous shiver strike his body at her statement, but he quickly pushed such trifle, if dreadful, foreshadowing thoughts away.
Harry, you promised me you'd go clothes shopping for me.
Shopping with you.
Technically, I'm not with you, so you're shopping for me.
But I'm a boy, I'm not meant to wear dresses.
It's not like I have any boobs or a behind right now, so you're the same shape as me. Just try it on, and tell me how you look.
I refuse.
You can't just refuse!
Make me.
Ginny was just about to deliver a very convincing reason as to why he shouldn't refuse, when loud screams tore through Madame Malkin's store. The screams were garbled as panicked voices layered atop one another, but two words could be heard clearly, repeated again, and again, ever so fearfully.
"Run for your lives it's-"
"Stay away from my children from-"
"Someone stop him, it's-"
"Sirius Black!"
Harry, relying on instincts honed from being hunted by dark lords the past two years, fled from the changing room to retrieve his wand, that he had left with Madame Malkin as he changed clothes. He barely noticed the cool wind pressing against his bare chest and legs as he left the changing room scantily dressed in just his underwear.
He ran between other fleeing customers, desperately trying to fight crowd as he pushed towards the shop owner. She looked rather frazzled, wand held uselessly limp in her hand.
"Madame Malkin," Harry cried, "I need my wand!" She appeared to grow even more frazzled as her eyes roamed over Harry.
"What, Mr. Potter, are you planning to do with that dress?" she asked incredulously. Harry finally realized that within his left hand he had the flowery white dress clamped firmly in his grip. Harry opened his mouth to try and explain, but he realized it was impossible to without revealing his chord with Ginny.
Madame Malkin appeared to take Harry's silence as a condemning answer.
"Wizards are free to dress in any fashion they choose, Mr. Potter. I shall not judge your clothing choices in the slightest," she proclaimed boldly.
She's judging you so hard right now.
Shut it Ginny.
Harry had to admit though, that Madame Malkin had acquired a nervous twitch in her nose whenever she glanced at the dress in Harry's hands.
"My wand, please," Harry growled out, the screams resonating from outside reminding him as to his current predicament.
"My goodness, of course, it's Sirius Black!" Madame Malkin gasped, as if suddenly realizing something of great importance. "Quickly, Harry, hide in the back of the shop. We must not let him find you at any cost."
"Why do you presume he's after me?" Harry demanded angrily. First Macnair, and now Malkin were acting like Sirius had escaped from Azkaban solely to hunt him down.
Because you defeated you-know-who.
Yes, I've heard that from you before.
"Because you defeated you-know-who," Madame Malkin explained, but her eyes shifted nervously as she spoke, refusing to make eye contact with Harry.
"Enough with that already!" Harry bellowed, but an explosion that rocked the shop deafened his cry of outrage. Walls exploded inwards, but the rubble never hit the ground. Instead, they remained stuck in a strange sort of orbit around the remaining pillars of support within the shop.
In the midst of the explosion, a man with long, wild, matted black hair was sent tumbling across the room, landing sprawled on his back, eyes dazed, in the middle of the shop, mere meters from Harry's feet. Harry stared at the homeless man with pity. It seemed he'd been caught by a wizards curse as they were chasing Sirius Black. Harry could see strangely cloaked wizarding police rushing to the destruction they had just caused.
Aurors.
Oreos? Where?
Just there, They're they magical law enforcement team.
You guys named your police unit after a Muggle food snack.
What?
Oreos.
Yeah, Aurors.
Twist, lick and dunk?
What!?
"Sirius Black!" Madame Malkin screamed suddenly, her voice rising to a painful octave, before she collapsed in a slump befitting of a noble lady. Harry glanced around the room frantically, searching for the man hunting him. However, apart from the rapidly approaching Oreos, the only man in sight was the one groaning at his feet.
"Wazagoing on James? Whatchas doing starkers?" The man mumbled incoherently.
The wind blowing in through the fallen walls chilled Harry's bare body, reminded him of his embarrassing predicament. However, he couldn't quite take his eyes off of the strange, unkempt man on the ground.
"Sirius Black?" Harry asked tentatively.
"The one and only, James," Sirius said with a smirk on his face, which quickly slid off as his eyes glazed over. "James?"
Run, Harry!
Obeying the angry voice in his head, Harry sprinted out of the shop through the newly made entrance, barreling past the Oreos who seemed too shocked to stop him.
"Was that… Harry Potter?"
"Why was he starkers?
"What did Black do to him?"
The Oreos were sufficiently distracted that Sirius Black had time to recover, and once he was on his feet, transformed the pieces of orbiting rubble into Chinese dragon fire crackers which exploded around the Oreos harmlessly, but causing their high pitched screams to resound across the awkwardly silent Alley.
Harry didn't stop to watch though. He was intent on putting as much distance between himself and Black as possible. Unfortunately, running around in his undergarment was attracted far too many stares for his liking, yet the only thing he had to wear was the white, flowery dress still clenched in his left fist.
Do it Harry.
I can't.
It's your only choice. You stand out too much like you are now.
I'll stand out even more with a dress on!
Only if they know it's you. From a distance, you'll just look like a pretty girl with black hair in address.
Maybe…
Right now, from a distance, you just look like a streaker.
Fine, I'm putting the dress on!
Harry slipped into a small side alley within the larger Diagon Alley, and with Ginny's step-by-step instructions, he had the dress over his head and covering his body.
Now, tell me, what does the dress feel like.
It feels… very open.
No, I mean the material. Is it comfortable on your skin? Does it scratch? What about the neck, is it too low? Do you think it'd fit me properly?
Ginny! Now is not the time for clothes shopping.
It's the only time I'm ever going to get you into a dress though.
Ginny continued to complain about Harry's lack of cooperation in her shopping endeavors while Harry contemplating the perks and disadvantages of wearing a dress. The open feeling at his legs was incredibly foreign yet strangely comforting-
Explosions began tearing up the small side alley as the Oreos brandished their wands threateningly, and sent a continuous stream of destructive spells without hesitancy. Sirius Black could be seen ahead of them, charming empty butterbeer bottles and food packets into suicide bombers that would collide with the nearest and deadliest incoming curses.
Harry screamed in a high pitched octave, a sound rather fitting for his attire, as Sirius Black, the unkempt, escaped convict mass murderer, charged down the alley toward him. Harry sprinted down the alley, desperately looking for a hiding spot, but there were no sharp turns, and the main alley was quickly coming back into sight.
Dazzling daylight momentarily blinded Harry's eyes as he stumbled onto the stone ridded, main alley road. His eyes slowly adjusted to the buildings around him. The buildings were all buckled down, shop doors closed and locked as the threat of Sirius Black loomed over them. The main alley was wide, open, and clearly visible from one side to the other, with only people littering the street. There was nowhere to hide.
"Don't let him get away!" One of the Oreo's shouted, reminding Harry that someone was still after him. Harry glanced desperately down the alley, and saw a large group of people steadily approaching. They appeared to be solely composed of females, and they were holding various picket signs and banners displaying the on and only Gilderoy Lockhart.
The woman were either too dense to realize that a mass murderer was loose in Diagon, or they were too devoted to their idol to cancel the Annual Notorious Achievements of Lockhart Day. Considering this was Gilderoy Lockhart being talked about, it would have to be both. The womanly screams of delight, and squeals of how much they loved the dashing blue eyed man with his charming smile. The woman seemed to all blend together to become one, large single entity.
A crisp wind blew in between Harry's legs, causing him to shiver as the thin material of his dress did little to protect his body.
Harry froze as he suddenly realized what he had to do.
Wait, no, Harry, don't do it!
There's no other choice.
Sirius Black and the Oreo's pooled out into the open alley, and Harry, remembering how the sun had dazzled him earlier, raised his wand into the sky and bellowed out one of the few charms he could confidently cast.
"Lumos Maxim," Harry shouted, and an orb of light as brilliant and blinding as the sun erupted from the tip of the holly wand. The alley became a midst of blind confusion and panic, with woman screaming in panic, and Oreos shouting in desperation. Harry barreled in the direction of the womanly screams, knowing he only had seconds to hide in the midst of the parade before everyone's sight had recovered.
Seconds passed slowly for Harry as adrenaline spiked his body. Eventually the white dots in his eyes faded away, and he realized that he was in the midst of a bumbling crowd of Lockhart fans. The Oreos were at the edge of the crowd, glancing around nervously, while Sirius Black was nowhere to be found.
He must have escaped when everyone was blinded, just like you did.
But he wasn't wearing a dress like me! There's no way he could blend into this crowd!
I don't know how he did it! But he's obviously not there anymore, is he?
The Oreos seemed to agree with Harry, for they cautiously slid their wands back into their holsters and began establishing communication and calling for reinforcements.
The Annual Notorious Achievements of Lockhart Day parade was quickly recovering, and regaining momentum. It seemed they either didn't care, or were too dense to realize the danger they were just in. Their blind loyalty to a man and his smile were outstanding.
Harry meekly followed the crowd. He didn't know where Sirius Black had gone, but he didn't quite believe the man had left the alley yet. It was safer to stay hidden with the other woman than venture out for the moment.
Now that the action was over, reporters were spooling into the alley, cameras floating in the air as they struggled to acquire the best angle, while self-writing quills danced along parchment. The Oreos had multiplied, and were now scattered across the premise, searching for the man who had disappeared.
Harry sighed, realized that the danger had passed, when a great, bear like dog with long shaggy hair barked loudly, and jumped on him. Harry tried to stay upright, but the dog was too heavy, and the two fell to the ground, Harry's dress billowing out around him, pushing over several Lockhart fans. Harry struggled to push the dog away, but the animal managed to place several slobbery licks over his cheeks.
"Gerrof me you crazy mutt," Harry growled, finally rolling out of the dogs grasp and quickly picking himself up. He straightened his dress, and flattened out his unkempt hair, but the damage had been done. Hundreds of witches and wizards stared at the commotion that had just been made.
"Hey Ernie, look at that witch there."
"That aint no witch Stan, that's a wizard."
"That aint no wizard you fools, that's Harry Potter!"
"Nah, that aint Harry Potter. They be wearing a dress, it be a woman."
"That's certainly no woman, that is definitely a man."
"That's no simple man, that's Harry Potter."
Harry groaned as the reporters, Oreos and Lockhart fans all circled around him, their cycle of comments repeating endlessly. A brilliant flash of light blinding him for the third time that day as a photographer took the photo of the century.
The shaggy black dog barked happily, as if everything had been a part of its plan.
Boy-Who-Lived Astounds Wizarding World During A.N.A.L Day Celebration!
Harry sat in his trademark stall within the leaky cauldron, not enjoying his warm breakfast in the slightest. His invisibility cloak had finally been recovered from the bottom of his trunk and was snuggly wrapped around his body. A magical newspaper lay in front of him, and Harry found himself absorbed in one of the pictures in particular.
Harry stood there with wide, bedazzled eyes as a soft wind played with the dress that rippled across his body, the hem flirtatiously flicking upwards, revealing his bare legs. Lockhart fans surrounded him enthusiastically, screaming their love for the six-time winner of Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile award. Many of the females were wrapping their arms nudging Harry, and trying to pass him several of their signs, making it seem like Harry was a part of the celebration.
Harry hadn't read the article. For all his Gryffindor bravery, the article had bested him.
Are you sure you don't want to read it? It's pretty entertaining.
From the number of times you've read it, I have a pretty good grasp of what it's about.
"If Harry Potter wished, it is without doubt that the Wizarding World would let their saviour change his title to the Girl-Who-Lived. After freeing us all from you-know-who's tyranny, he deserves that much."
I don't know who Rita Skeeter is, but I will have my revenge on her.
Ron wouldn't stop laughing.
Fred and George couldn't stop laughing.
Arthur couldn't help but smile.
Even Percy was having trouble hiding his smile, when his gaze landed on Harry.
But most importantly of all…
Ginny, you have got to stop laughing at me!
But… but… this is priceless.
It's been two weeks since then!
It's still priceless.
It was you fault I even ended up like that!
Try explaining that to someone without mentioning our bond, and then I'll stop laughing.
So it was with that, and a lot of internal grumbling, that Harry took the joking in good stride. It helped that he was finally reunited with his favourite wizarding after a long, slow summer holiday. Ron had grown since the last time he had seen him, and was now practically a whole head taller than Harry. Ron had wasted no breath flaunting his newly acquired height to him.
"When's Hermione arriving?" Harry asked Ron, once the turmoil of cross-dressing jokes had faded away. It would only be for a while though. Fred and George's devious smiles as they held a newspaper clipping only caused more worry for Harry.
"She's arriving by Muggle transport. Y'know those box things that slide across the ground?"
"Cars?"
"Yeah, those things. She's riding in one of them. Mental if you ask me. Floo's much faster."
Harry felt himself torn. Although Ron was correct, floo was practically instantaneous, the feeling of shooting through countless fire chutes was highly unpleasant, and not Harry's preferred from of transport.
Before Harry could being a list of pros and cons in his head, with Ginny readily agreeing to help, a door whooshed open, and Harry's favourite bushy haired witch stumbled into the Leaky Cauldron.
"Ron," she shouted joyfully, running in between bar stools and rickety tables to give the tall boy a hug, which turned slightly awkward when Hermione misjudged his height.
"You've grown!" Hermione admonished, staring up at Ron, who sheepishly scratched the back of his head.
"I know, I'm even taller than Fred and George now," Ron admitted. Hermione then turned to face her other best friend. She skipped over and wrapped her arms around him in a friendly greeting hug.
"How have you been, Harry?" She asked, even though she knew everything that had happened to him. Hedwig had been busy traveling to both of his best friends throughout the summer.
"I'm good," Harry replied, giving her a quick squeeze of a hug in return. He thought that was what he was meant to do. He hadn't had too much experience with hugs in his childhood. Still, he found that he enjoyed Hermione's hugs. They were very warm and friendly.
The chord between Harry and Ginny thrummed with a strange, irritated sort of emotion bleeding from Ginny. Harry frowned, being unable to place the strange feeling.
You all right Ginny?
I'm fine Harry. Just leave me alone.
Despite the impossibility of her request, Harry happily agreed with her, and turned his attention back to his best friends, who were bickering about where to go first. Ron was too stubborn for Hermione to convince, so they ended up making their way to the apothecary first. Ron wanted to look at some rat tonic for Scabbers who was looking deathly ill.
"I'm telling you, that day you got chased by Sirius after he broke in Gringotts, Scabbers was going mental. I swear he was trying to drown himself in the toilet," Ron said, before pausing to think about his story. "Now that I think about it, that may have been Fred and Georges fault, they were testing some new powders on him."
"Ron!" Hermione admonished, "No wonder he looks so sick."
They slowly made their way out of the Leaky Cauldron when harry realized Ginny was by herself. Fred and George had run off with that blasted newspaper clipping, Percy had slunk off to his room and the parents were all sitting at a table, chatting about everything from children, to magic, to teeth whitening products.
"Hey Ginny, do you want to come with us?" Harry called out. It was a strange feeling actually talking to communicate with her.
It was an even stranger feeling though to be staring at Ginny after spending a whole Summer in direct contact with her, but never actually seeing her. She didn't look that different form the last time Harry had seen her, right before the Hogwarts Express. Then again, he hadn't really been paying too much attention to how she looked. She had long red hair, freckles, and was shorter than him. That was about all Harry needed to know to distinguish her.
Are you going to stop staring? I'll tell mum you won't stop looking at me.
But would you really?
Probably not. She'd start planning the wedding.
"Well?" Harry asked, completely ignoring the wedding comment.
"I'm fine Harry," Ginny said sweetly.
After spending a whole bloody summer stuck with you, you honestly think I want to spend more time with you? Are you insane.
"Alright, I'll see you later than Ginny!" Harry called back pleasantly, before turning back to Ron and Hermione.
Fine, spend your time by yourself then. I was just trying to be friendly.
Harry stormed out of the Leaky Cauldron, while Ginny simultaneously sat down in a wooden chair with a loud huff. Both of them completely missed Ron and Hermione's curious stares.
"Harry, what was all that about?" Ron asked, catching up to Harry.
"What do you mean?"
"You were talking to Ginny," Hermione explained, looking as curious as Ron was.
"So?"
Ron and Hermione glanced at each other.
"Harry, you've never actually spoken to Ginny before," Hermione said carefully.
"What are you going on about? I talk to her all the time," Harry replied nonchalantly.
"Like when?" Ron challenged, and Harry suddenly paled as he realized he had no response.
"Umm, like the time in the Chamber," Harry said lamely.
"And?" Hermione pestered.
"…and that's it?" Harry said weakly, his voice rising into a question at the end.
"So why were you talking to my sister all of a sudden?" Ron asked bluntly. He wasn't angry, just confused, as he probably should be.
"Look, it's Quality Quidditch Supplies!" Harry shouted suddenly, pointing at one of his favourite stores. Ron's eyes went wide and googly, of course, and any talk of his sister was banished form his mind as he was drawn to the firebolt on display. Hermione, of course, was not so easily distracted, but unlike Ron, she didn't seem as concerned.
"I think it's lovely that you're trying to talk to her," Hermione said to Harry, a calculating smile on her lips.
"Err, you do?" Harry said, confused at to her behaviour.
"Of course," she replied, giggling slightly. Harry just shook her strange behaviour off as a girl thing. Angry pulses throbbed through the chord.
She's going to get it when we're alone.
What?
Stop prying Harry?
What are you going to do to Hermione?
Nothing Harry, it's girl business.
Well… if it's girl stuff then…
Exactly, don't bother with it anymore.
I did wear a dress though! Doesn't that let me qualify to talk about girl stuff?
I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that.
The chord hummed in a pleasant melody as Ginny returned to her good mood, chuckling slightly to herself at Harry's comment.
"Hey Harry, check this out!" Ron shouted from the shop, and Harry almost forgot about Ginny as he became absorbed in the various broomsticks on display. It was impossible to forget someone however when they never left your mind.
Everyone reunited at Flourish and Blotts late in the afternoon to purchase the school books for the children. The Weasleys looked immensely relieved that instead of having to buy a whole collection of expensive Lockhart books, they were only required to buy one heavy, but cheap, encyclopedia on dark creatures.
Now with a little bit of extra pocket change, the various Weasleys were scattered around the book store, looking for anything that caught their fancy. Hermione was having trouble finding something that didn't catch her fancy. She flushed in embarrassment when the shopkeeper told her that unless she was buying the books, she had to stop placing them in her trolley.
Molly Weasley was hovering over all of her children, making sure they were behaving, or in the twin's case, not getting caught. She was glancing over several books herself however, and she pulled one particular book about baking magical desserts out of a shelf.
"Ginny! Have a look at this book!" Molly called out, and to her horror, every single Weasley in the store turned to stare at her with wide, shocked eyes. Every Weasley except for Ginny, who appeared rather frustrated by their behaviour.
"I'm so sorry dear," Molly said softly to Ginny, "I didn't mean to remind you of… well, that."
"Mum, I'm fine, just let me look at the book," Ginny said impatiently.
"It's alright sweetheart, you don't have to look at it. Mum understands."
"Hey Ginny, come over here," Fred called.
"I've got something great to show you," George added, reaching into his pockets for some various, probably home made, item.
What's going on?
They've been like this all summer. Havn't you been paying attention Harry?
No, I have, it's just I didn't think it was this bad.
Harry glanced at all the strained Weasley faces. Overprotective boys and an overbearing mother surrounded the sole daughter of the Weasley family.
It's much different to see them react then it is to hear you think about it.
It's hard to put into words just how hard it is for me…
Sadness vibrated between the two of them, the chord pulsing with Ginny's chaotic emotions. It was strange for Harry, feeling such emotions from her. Throughout the whole summer, Ginny had always been strong, bold and straightforward. She knew what she wanted, and she had no qualms berating Harry for it. She was always Happy, even if on the verge of snapping at someone, and to feel the sadness pulsing from the chord just felt wrong.
Driven by his inner determination, Harry began scanning the book shop with a renewed vigour. He knew one would be around here somewhere. There was always one in every book shop.
Harry, what are you doing?
Dictionary, school book, school book, Quidditch rules, famous duels, Hogwarts a history, Animagus training…
What are you looking for?
Found it!
"Hey Ginny!" Harry called out from the upstairs pagoda floor of Flourish and Blotts. "What do you think of this diary?"
The talkative Weasleys in the store fell silent once again, identical shell-shocked expression on their face.
"W-What?"
"This diary," Harry said, waving his hand back and forth, holding a diary. "It's nice and white, and has lots of little flowers over it. Do you like stuff like that?
"H-Harry, stop that immediately," Molly stammered trying to get him to put the diary away, but Harry kept waving it around.
"White and flowery, that's what you like right?"
Just like that dress you made me wear, right?
Ginny couldn't help it. She burst into laughter. Her family watched her, looks of horror still cast across their faces. Harry continued to smile at her cheerfully, waving the diary back and forth while Ginny was on her knees, clutching her sides as the laughter caused her stomach to ache.
A flash blinded the occupants of the book store, and everyone turned to Hermione, who was holding a camera in her hand, a photo already developing as the camera whirred and buzzed.
"Sorry everyone," Hermione said, not sounding sorry at all, "But if you thought Harry's photo was funny, you haven't seen this one yet."
The Weasleys looked at each other slowly, still unsure, until Ginny skipped forwards and grabbed the photo from Hermione's hand. She took one glance at it and burst into laughter. Her cheery, chiming laughter rung through the bookstore, filling up the hollow atmosphere with her happiness.
Fred and George were the most curious Weasleys, and all too soon they were at Ginny's shoulders, staring over her head at the picture. They too were laughing as they saw their gob smacked expressions in the photo. Harry was leaning off a rail above everyone, holding the white flowery diary in his hands, shouting obnoxiously to Ginny with a wide smile on his face.
Ron saw the photo and flushed in embarrassment at his look of utter horror, but quickly found himself laughing when he realized how stupid all the Weasleys had been. Ginny hadn't needed protecting at all. Molly couldn't help but smile when she saw the perfectly happy Ginny, arms clasped around her chest as she laughed herself to tears.
Ginny glanced at Harry, who had made his way down the stairs. He had a proud smile on his face as he studied his handiwork.
Thank you Harry.
What are you talking about, I was just wondering if you wanted a diary, considering your last one is gone now.
You're too humble sometimes. Just take the compliment. Thank you Harry.
"No, seriously, do you want the diary or not?"
Dinner had been one of the happiest meals Harry had ever eaten. The Weasleys were in some sort of happiness high after discovering that Ginny wasn't as nearly as traumatized as they though, and jokes, laughter and smiles were infectious across the able. Even Percy could be seen collaborating with the twins on their next prank.
It's probably going to be against you Harry.
Wait, why is that?
Because, from Fred and George's point of view, you pranked everyone today at the bookstore. This is their revenge.
I'm pretty sure they've already had their revenge. Did you see how many copies of that newspaper clipping they had made?
Oh relax Harry, the whole world had seen that photo by now. What's the harm in a few more photos?
…it's harmful to my morale…
Jibes were passed Harry's way all night about his dressing fetishes. Not that he really minded. He knew that none of the Weasleys meant anything by it, and Harry knew that if it had been Ron in his situation, Harry would have been laughing just as hard. He was however thankful that Hermione never made any jabs at him. She just smiled sympathetically at him every time a joke was made.
Dinner was soon over, and everyone was sent upstairs to pack their bags for Hogwarts tomorrow. Harry, Ron and Hermione dragged themselves up the stairs, Ginny trailing closely behind. Ginny parted ways, and went into her own room to pack. There was something more going on, but Harry couldn't quite figure it out, and he wasn't one to pry. They were doing that too much already.
Ron plunked himself down on his bed, looking ready to fall asleep despite his clothes littering the bedroom like a bizarre exhibit. Harry similarly collapsed on a pile of his clothes sprawled next to his trunk. Everything he owned was in one place, all he had to do was stuff it in the trunk. He didn't understand why Hermione was so uptight about organization. Maybe it was a girl thing.
Hey!
With plenty of mothering, nagging, and eventually threatening from Hermione, the two boys clambered out of their respectable locations and began tidying the room. Hermione even made Harry go through each shirt individually and fold and pack it away.
"Harry, all of these clothes are terrible!" Hermione admonished, poking a finger through a hole in one of his hand-me-downs from Dudley. He had been given that shirt for his ninth birthday, and it still fit. If it wasn't Dudley they were talking about, it would have been proof of magic.
"They're not that bad," Harry said defensively. He had grown rather attached to the old, thin rags.
Just like a house elf.
No! I am nothing like Dobby!
Well, when you think about it, you were pretty similar to him. You were kind of like the Dursley's human house elf.
…We'll continue this another time…
"I dunno mate," Ron said warily, eyeing the tent like, faded yellow shirt. "They're pretty bad."
"I guess they are," Harry said in defeat, sighing heavily.
"Listen mate, I'd give you some of my clothes, but well," Ron eyed his own trunk distastefully, "They're not much better."
"It's alright Ron, it's the thought that counts."
"Oh, Harry! You could have some of my clothes!"
"Really Hermione? That'd be great!" Harry said, a wide smile on his face. A wide smile that slowly slid away.
"Wait a minute…" Harry said slowly as Ron burst into laughter. Hermione was having trouble keeping her lips pressed together.
"You traitor!" Harry shouted in disbelief, "You were meant to be on my side!"
"But- but Harry… You were in a dress!" Hermione said, squealing as her laughter took over. Harry growled and grabbed a nearby pillow, yanking it off the half made bed and launching it at hysterical witch. It hit her in the chest with a soft poof, and she turned to him with serious eyes.
"Do you know what you just started?" Hermione said, all traces of laughter in her voice gone. Harry gulped.
"A pillow fight!" she squealed, jumping up to her feet and throwing the pillow back at Harry, who dived out of the way.
"Oi, what are you too doing," Ron said in exasperation. "If you make too much noise Mum'll check up on us." He was ignored however, as both Harry and Hermione simultaneously threw two pillows at him. He caught them both however, one in each hand, demonstrating his keeper skills.
"Hermione's right," Ron said, a manic grin forming on his face as he threw the pillows back at their owners, "You don't know what you just started."
Ginny smiled to herself as she listened to Harry playing like a child, throwing pillows around the room and playfully threatening his friends with various soft objects.
Truthfully, it made her rather envious. She wished she had friends like Harry had Ron and Hermione.
Still, now that Harry was sufficiently distracted, Ginny had several private minutes to herself. Quickly, realizing that the pillow fight could end at any moment, she reached into the top of her trunk and withdrew the white and flowery diary Harry had purchased for her. She placed the diary religiously on the bedside table.
Unlike Tom's black, leather bound diary with yellowed pages, belying its age, this diary was bright, made of cheap paper materials and embellished with little trails of flowers. The biggest difference however, was that Harry had given this to her. Not a stranger, not Lucious Malfoy, not Tom Riddle, but Harry Potter.
The clock on the wall ticked, reminding her of the time limit. Her chord was vibrating ceaselessly, as adrenaline pumped through Harry's body, and his breathing became laboured. It must be one hell of a pillow fight.
She reached into her trunk again and pulled out a photograph that Hermione had given her. It was the one that had been taken in Flourish and Blotts. She stared at herself, laughing cheerfully and freely. She couldn't remember the last time she had felt so happy. Her eyes began tearing up, but she quickly wiped at them before the droplets fell on and ruined the photograph.
With a few adhesive charms, Ginny stuck the picture of her, Harry and her shell-shocked Weasley family onto the back of the front cover. It was a reminder to her of everything that was special to her.
The most important part however, the part Harry couldn't know about, and so she had to do it in the shadow of his distraction, was the second picture. With a fond smile on her face, Ginny reached into her trunk and pulled out a photograph Fred and George had given her. It was one of the hundreds of copies of the newspaper clipping they had ordered.
Harry stood, a look of surprise and irritation on his face as the dress on his body rippled in the wind. The black dog at his feet was panting and waving it's tail happily, and the Lockhart fans behind him were pushing each other out of the way to get to the front of the photo.
With careful hands and a steady incantation, Ginny stuck the second photograph to the inside of the back cover. She ran her fingers softly over the glossy picture. It was a picture of Harry. Not of the perfect Harry Potter she had believed in all those years ago, but the real Harry Potter, flawed, slightly lost, and wearing a dress.
Ginny had told herself that she was over her ridiculous childhood crush, but surely there was nothing wrong to just slightly fancy someone?
Ginny?
She snapped the diary shut and quickly began memorizing the various female toiletries she had packed away in her trunk.
Er, I'll just leave you to it then.
Ginny breathed heavily. That had been close. She grabbed the diary, her diary, with a white and flowery cover, containing images of everything she held dear, and slipped it back into her trunk.
And here is the third chapter. Was it what you expected? Was it worth the wait (yeah right)? Is it the longest chapter I have ever written (damn right)? Am I hoping you guys enjoy it? OF COURSE! Let me know what you think :)
Cheers
-Council