Chapter 3: Bill and Ginny
"Ginny?" Bill knocked softly on her door.
No answer.
"Ginny, I know you're in there. Open the door."
Nothing.
"C'mon, Ginny, how can I apologize if you won't let me in?"
Still nothing.
He thumped the door with his fist this time. "Ginny, if you don't open this door I'm coming in anyway!"
Silence.
Bill put his hand on the doorknob but it didn't turn. Yeah, right, like his baby sister could keep out a professional curse breaker. He drew his wand, cast a nonverbal spell, and watched the door open wide.
Ginny was lying on her bed with her back to the door, and although she had her face buried in her pillow, it was clear she was crying. He frowned. All right, he'd been a little harsh, but he hadn't expected to find her heartbroken.
Oh.
Well, there wasn't a bloody thing he could do about Harry, since cursing the Chosen One into oblivion would be detrimental to them all. It was a damn shame, too; he knew some good ones. But he could apologize for playing the big brother card so forcefully. Bill crossed the room and sat behind her on the bed.
"I'm sorry, Gin-Gin." He reached out to rub her back but Ginny shook him off with a violent swing of her arm that nearly clipped him on the chin. The abrupt, evasive movement (and the silent treatment) were so utterly female that Bill suddenly realized this was no longer the child-sister he remembered. It was going to take more than a hug and a sweet to sort things out this time.
"Ginny, you know I didn't mean it. We just needed to talk to Harry, man-to-man." Never mind he hadn't actually done that yet.
She sniffed but didn't speak. He'd never seen her this quiet after an argument. Cautiously, he laid a hand on her arm.
She shook him off again and sat up. "No, I don't know. You've never patronized me like that before, not even when I was a little girl, and—" her voice cracked—"you did it in front of everyone. It was humiliating!" She sniffed again, holding the pillow in front of her like a shield.
Bill understood that by "everyone," she really meant "Harry." Her chin was tucked down so her hair hid her face, but she turned slightly and gave him an accusing glare.
Well, if she was trying to make him feel like shit, she was doing a bang-up job. He had assumed she was upset with all of them on principle, but she seemed genuinely hurt and had singled him out as the source. He sighed. Nothing to do but suck it up and grovel.
"You're right." This brought her face up to meet his, as he knew it would. "I shouldn't have spoken to you like that, especially not in front of your friends." Ginny's expression cleared but she was still watching him carefully. "I'm really sorry that I embarrassed you, and I never intended to hurt your feelings. Forgive me?"
She hesitated just long enough for him to start sweating it. "Well, maybe you," she conceded with a small smile, and Bill felt a flash of relief before her face darkened again.
"But not Ron." Ginny slammed the pillow down beside her, then punched it. "Bloody hypocrite, thrashing around the Common Room with that slag Lavender, and then he has the audacity to complain about me and Harry in a perfectly private cupboard!"
Bill raised his eyebrows. So his baby brother had seen some action that year, too.
Ginny turned away, but not before he saw her tearing up. Hell, he didn't want to talk about this, but he couldn't just sit here and watch her cry.
"What's so bad about Ron?"
She clutched the pillow to her chest again. "He said he was all right with me and Harry, but when he pulled Harry away from me, he looked furious, and then Harry wasn't—and I was—but—Ron hasn't seen me without a shirt since Mum used to make us bathe together," she wailed.
Bill stared at his sister for several seconds, trying to process what she'd said. Without a— No wonder Ron looked ready to end Harry's fame as The Boy Who Lived.
"Bloody hell, Ginny, you're only—"
"Sixteen! I'll be sixteen in less than a fortnight. Fleur was only a couple years older when you started dating."
He winced. There was just something inherently wrong about a conversation that included topless snogging, his baby sister, and his fiancée. Bill thought about his last couple years at Hogwarts and the sixteen-year-old witches with whom he had been . . . acquainted.
"Bloody hell," he repeated slowly, staring at her again. She fell back on the bed with a moan and covered her flaming face with the pillow.
Bill was thinking fast. Ginny had literally been just a baby when he left for Hogwarts, and eight the autumn he left for Egypt. Somehow, while he knew she was growing up over the years just like his brothers, his little girl image of her had persisted. Bill took advantage of her embarrassment under the pillow to study her more objectively.
Even allowing for his own height she was short, with smooth, creamy skin and light freckles he knew she hated but the boys no doubt found adorable. Lying there in short shorts and a tank top, her figure was clearly curvy, though thankfully it would be a lot harder to tell that in robes. The long hair splayed around the pillow was a shiny, silky, gorgeous shade of dark red, the best of all of them. He couldn't see her face, so Bill pictured her at Harry's birthday party. Ginny had always been attractive, but now her features were maturing from cute to beautiful. That left bright brown eyes and a mischievous smile . . . .
Ginny was still under the pillow. Bill tugged on it playfully.
"So, you and Potter, eh?"
"Not exactly."
Bill felt his protective instincts bristling again.
"Then what, exactly?" Apparently this came out rather harshly, since Ginny moved the pillow enough to give him The Look. Bill nearly laughed out loud; if he hadn't already acknowledged his little sister had grown into a woman, he would have known it then. He schooled his features and repeated the question.
Ginny settled the pillow behind her and began playing with a loose string in the spread. "We were together this spring," she said quietly. "For a few weeks, and it was—magic. I'd never felt like that with anyone, and Harry was happy. Everyone, even Ron, said how happy Harry looked when we were together, and I was so proud of that. And then Professor Dumbledore died, and everything changed. Harry—"
She drew a deep breath. "Harry said Dumbledore had given him a mission, him and Ron and Hermione, and it was dangerous, so he was leaving me behind. I understand that—he wouldn't be Harry without that damn noble streak—but then he shows up here acting like nothing ever happened."
She looked uncharacteristically fragile, and Bill reached for her hand. She squeezed his tightly.
"I understand that Harry has to leave me behind, but after everything we've been through, I don't understand how he could pretend there's nothing between us. Like we're not even friends. I couldn't let him ignore me like that, not again."
Bill thought about her defiant attitude downstairs, her spirited personality, her determination, and he began to understand what Harry had been hinting at.
"So since Harry was ignoring you, you decided to seduce him."
Ginny avoided his eyes. "Not exactly."
He waited. She squirmed.
"Harry likes to watch me."
Yeah, I bet.
"He doesn't know I know, but I've been watching him for a lot longer, and I'm a lot better at it. All I did was just . . . give him something to look at." Ginny shrugged artlessly.
There was something familiar about that pose . . . . Bill remembered all the times he had scolded the twins or Ron for some bit of mischief and they had protested vociferously it was Ginny's doing. She would look at him with those big brown eyes (just like now, actually), and smile innocently (that smile, right there), and say—
"It wasn't me, Bill, I've been good!" Ginny's smile stretched from innocent to something more playful, and she burst out laughing.
"You little imp." Bill lunged, tickling her ribs. Ginny started shrieking. "The twins and Ron were right, you did set them up." She was rolling all over the bed now, giggling and slapping at his hands. "Say it. Say it, or I'll tickle you until you wet your pants!"
Ginny laughed even harder, until she could barely breathe, and Bill knew she was remembering the time he'd done that very thing to Percy, the ungrateful prat.
"Un-un-uncle!" She was turned around now, with her head at the foot of the bed, and Bill stared down at her indignantly. Ginny started giggling again.
"You're so easy. Charlie, and especially Percy, were more suspicious, but you always fell for the Sweet Baby Sister."
Bill was actually starting to feel a little sorry for Potter and decided to take Ginny's explanation at face value. "At least learn how to lock a door, will you? You ought to know there's no privacy in this house."
She sat up. "Will you teach me something Alohomora can't open? I didn't expect to keep you out, but Ron and the twins . . . ."
"Ginny, you're going to be the death of me."
She grinned. "No, I think that's going to be Fleur."
"You're okay with her, right? I mean, I know you two didn't really get on at first, and she's been a bit, er, excessive with the wedding plans, but you like her now?"
Ginny reached over and squeezed his arm. "She loves you, and you're happy with her. What more could we want?"
Bill smiled at her. "Thanks, Gin-Gin."
She scowled but let the pet name slide. "Do me a favor, make sure Harry and Ron haven't killed each other, will you? Fred and George would think it was funny just to stand by and watch."
"Sure, Ginny." Last he'd seen, Fred and George weren't standing on the sidelines, but what Ginny didn't know wouldn't hurt her. That strategy had kept peace among the Weasley siblings since before she was born, and Bill wasn't about to change it now.
