Chapter 6

The slamming of the door woke Ginny. Her neck was cricked painfully, pressed into a weird angle by the corner of the sofa.

"Oh!" Marie was standing in the middle of the flat, her shoes in her hands, still dressed in her 'going out' clothes from the night before. "The door slipped."

"S'fine," Ginny muttered. She yawned and blinked at the pale light of morning before clarity walloped her brain. Harry! She sat up, wincing at the pain in her back and neck. But Harry wasn't on the sofa with her, as she remembered him being. He wasn't in the room at all. She blinked wide-eyed at her roommate.

"Oh dear," Marie said as she eyed the two glasses on the table and the empty bottle of wine. "It was a two-fister last night, was it?"

"You have no idea." Ginny swung her legs over the edge of the sofa as memories from last night crept back in, their horrific glory on full display in her mind. It's no wonder Harry scarpered the first moment he could. Ginny had done the one thing she wanted to avoid the most-she'd been weak. And what made it worse was that it was Harry Potter-the same boy who had saved her when she was weak last time-who had witnessed it.

"I made a complete fool of myself," she muttered.

Marie hummed in agreement as she gathered the remnants of what she assumed was a one-sided pity party. "Not to worry, dear, I won't tell anyone."

"Thanks."

Ginny took a moment to try and collect herself. Her eyes felt itchy and swollen, like they always did after a heavy cry. 'It's a good thing you don't wear makeup, girl,' she told herself, 'you'd be a sight!'

The memories, not only of last night but from the past ten years, were tangible, scattered in her mind like gobstones rolling around. Just when she would try to grasp one, another would come along to take its place, bringing a fresh wave of shame, hurt, and anger.

This was all Harry's fault. He'd come here to France and opened up that box that Ginny had carefully kept the lid tightly on for so long. None of her brothers had been able to do that when they'd come to visit. And Ginny had built a thick wall to retreat behind when her mother sent letters; she could read them with a detachment of sorts, as if it was one of Madam Beaulieu's soap operas, not really connected to Ginny.

She moved toward her bedroom, lost in her thoughts. Marie was talking to her in that half-English, half-French mixture that they had, but Ginny didn't stay to listen. And she knew that Marie would forgive her.

The first thing she always looked for upon entering the room was the window. It was still too dark outside for it to glow like she wanted it to. She'd always had half a mind to charm it to glow at all times, but then would talk herself out of it, reminded that waiting made her appreciate it all the more. She sat on the edge of the bed and watched the sun rise, curled up in the bedclothes she pulled over her.

There was something-like a spark deep within her-that felt alive and more corporeal than she remembered it ever being, but it was painful, too.

When the sun was up and the window lit, Ginny looked away, feeling the overwhelming shame of last night hit her fully. It was very likely that she'd never see Harry Potter again. Or, worse, he'd summon her entire family to descend and they'd force Ginny to abandon her carefully constructed world.

"Like that can happen," she muttered.

"There's an owl!"

The sound of Marie opening the window and the flutter of wings tore Ginny's thoughts back to the present.

"Merde!"

She'd forgotten to send Louis an owl last night. No doubt he was checking in on her. She was surprised that he hadn't been at the door this morning, knocking to make sure she'd arrived home safely. He was rather an earnest sort of boy in that way.

The owl sailed into Ginny's room, but it wasn't Louis' regal Pascal; this was a small grey owl, marked with the blue leg band of the post office. A hired owl. It flew right to Ginny, perching on the end of the bedframe and held out its leg where a thin piece of parchment was affixed.

We're not nearly finished with this conversation, Ginny. I'll be outside your door early on Saturday. I want to see the market and you'll be my guide.

It was signed with a simple HP.

"Merde!"

Harry Potter was nothing if not determined, it appeared. Even though she wanted to respond back that she'd pass, Ginny knew that Harry would just show up. He knew where she lived now.

"Chosen One, indeed," she said. "No wonder he vanquished Voldemort." She sighed and rubbed at her face. "Nothing for it. I'll have to do it. But if he thinks he's determined, he's not seen anything yet."

She crawled to the end of her bed where a small desk sat. "You want a tour, Harry Potter?" she muttered. "Well, you'd better be ready, because that's exactly what you're going to get."

Turning Harry's note over, she scratched her reply on the back.

Fine. Bring me breakfast, at least, she wrote. And wear good shoes. You'll need them.

The owl held out his foot and Ginny affixed the note and tucked a knut into the pouch to pay for his services.

She opened the window and watched the sky until it was lost over Paris somewhere.

Ginny could handle herself with Harry for one more day. She'd be professional and fully in control. Harry'd get his tour and then he could go back to England where he belonged, and Ginny could go back to the life she'd so carefully crafted.

Xxxxx

The sun was barely up when Harry knocked at the door. Ginny would have been bleary-eyed, but she'd slipped just a splash of Pepper-up Potion into fruit juice and had been sipping at it faithfully. She'd had a late-night flight tour of Paris beginning at nearly midnight and had only managed a few hours of sleep before her alarm warned her that Harry would be there any minute.

Just as instructed, Harry had brought breakfast: a selection of pastries from one of the nicer bakeries in town. Fluffy croissants sat alongside warm brioche buns, crispy palmiers, orange sugar Danishes, and cherry pinwheels.

"I didn't know what you liked," he said with a shrug when Ginny's eyes went wide. "I ate the chocolate one already, though."

Ginny chose her favorite-a cherry pinwheel-and hummed in happiness when the sweet bread melted against her tongue. "Mmmmm. You may have won a few points, there, Potter."

Harry smirked and moved further into the flat before tearing off half a croissant.

'Just making himself at home, isn't he?' Ginny asked herself.

"Well, I hope you got your rest yesterday, because I'm going to show you all of Paris today."

The little smile that played about his lips slipped off and he blinked behind his glasses. "All of it?"

"Every last step."

Harry swallowed, thought about it, and then nodded. "Best get started, then, I suppose."

Ginny gathered her bag, red slicker, and boots, and ushered Harry outside to where she kept her bicycle locked to the iron grating of Madam Beaulieu's stairs.

"That's hardly fair," Harry protested. "You get to ride while I get to walk?"

She laughed and tapped her wand on the seat of the bicycle. The frame began to grow and extend, another seat, tire, and pedals extending out the back.

"Clever." Harry walked around, touching the spell work and even putting a little weight on the frame. "Think it will hold me? I'd hate to be pedaling through Paris and fall on my arse."

"I make no promises," Ginny said as she swung her leg over the first position and turned the little mounted headlight on. It was still a little dark and there would be cars moving about where they were headed first. "Be a Gryffindor and give it a try, will you?"

Harry's eyebrow rose slowly, and he swung his leg over, settling behind Ginny on the tandem bicycle. "Shouldn't I drive? I mean, not to be sexist, or anything. I just...doesn't the person in front have to put more work into it?"

"You just sit back and enjoy the ride," Ginny said. "I've been doing this for years. You're in good hands."

"Where are we going first?"

Ginny inched the bike forward and gave a smile over her shoulder as they set off. Rather than sway from side to side, as most tandem bicycles would, Ginny's bike was perfectly balanced, and they hardly had to pedal at all.

"I should turn you in for this, you know," said Harry. "And I would, if it wasn't so brilliant."

Ginny steered them through the streets as the sun began to rise. The charmed bicycle made it seem like they were flying.

"Does it fly, also?"

"No."

"Oh. Pity."

"Harry! You should be ashamed of yourself! You work for the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office!" She laughed and glanced back to see Harry smiling widely as he balanced and held his hands up off the bars. "What would your boss say?"

The tease was meant to be playful, but Ginny felt it like a punch to the gut. Of all the people she'd left behind, the one that hurt the most was her father. She rarely allowed herself to even think about him.

"He'd need to ride around the block a few times to check out the charm work," Harry said. "And I figure he'd probably confiscate it, only to take it home and fiddle with it until it was beyond all repair." His smile was tight, and the words were soft, full of something heavy. Ginny hoped it wasn't pity.

"Yeah. You're right."

They were quiet for a bit more until Ginny cleared her throat. "We're headed to the Marche aux Fleurs et aux Oiseaux. It's one of the largest flower and plant markets around. We get all of our flowers for the café there."

"You work at a café?"

Ginny scrunched her nose. She hadn't meant to divulge any more personal things to him during this tour, but that one had slipped. "I work a couple of jobs," she admitted. "Still trying to decide what I want to do in life."

Harry muttered something, but it was covered by the passing of a large delivery truck rumbling by. They crossed a bridge and Ginny felt the bike shift as Harry looked over the railing to the Seine below them.

"Look!"

Ginny slowed the pedals and pointed off to their right. A massive square of market sat on the corner of two streets, with covered pavilions and trees that grew up right through them. The leaves were just now coming out, brilliant spring greens and little flowers of white and purple, still just buds.

"Wow."

"We're just a few blocks from the Cathedrale Notre-Dame de Paris. We can go there next. Let's park the bike and walk through." Ginny steered them to an area where they could lock up the bicycle and then led Harry toward the stalls that were just beginning to open up. Cheerful vendors chatted to each other as they filled their buckets with every color under the rainbow and flowers that Harry had never seen before.

"What do you think?"

Harry's eyes were wide, and his head appeared to be on a swivel as he looked left and right, taking it all in. "It's… I think Neville would love this place."

"Come on." Ginny beckoned him forward. "There's a part I want you to see." They wound through the stalls, Ginny letting her fingers trace the blooms and leaves as she pointed out this plant, or that flower.

"Which is your favorite?" Harry asked. Ginny got the impression that he hadn't meant to ask, but the question had just slipped out.

"Orchids," she said. "They're hard to grow-at least, the Muggle ones are. Finicky. But if you've got the right touch…" She pointed out one vendor just down from where they were that had hundreds of delicate orchids on display.

"Are there magical ones?"

"Yep." Ginny motioned to the back corner of the market, where a strange little Asian man was standing in front of an entire wall of bird cages. The birds were chirping and making a racket. There were almost as many colors here as there were down the flower aisles and Ginny laughed as Harry whistled low.

"Come on. He knows me."

The man stepped to the side, revealing a hanging curtain between the stacks of cages. Ginny ducked behind it and Harry hesitated before following. She could tell he was keeping his hand close to his wand and laughed.

The small back area that smelled horrible opened up immediately to the Magical Market that lay hidden behind the Marche aux Fleurs. Every magical plant know to Wizard-kind was on display.

"This is where Neville would like it best, I'd bet," Ginny said. She spread her arms wide and did a little twirl. Harry laughed and nodded.

"Yeah. I'll have to tell him about it."

They walked next to each other while Ginny pointed out various plants and what they were good for. One man stepped forward and offered a bright orange flower to Harry. He tried to wave it off, but the determined vendor gave him a cross look and gestured toward Ginny. Harry fumbled to try and pull a few coins from his pocket, so Ginny took the flower and tugged Harry away.

"When they offer it, you just take it, Harry. You'll insult him by trying to pay."

Harry gaped at her. "But…"

"Seriously. This is their thing." Ginny tucked the flower into the pocket on her rain slicker, the wide daisy arching toward the light and vibrating with excitement. The charm would last for a few days before the daisy withered away.

"He's hoping you'll come back and buy me a whole bunch of them."

"Do you want me to?"

Ginny laughed and shook her head. "No. I'm fine with just the one."

Harry's forehead crinkled, but he nodded and gave her a tight smile.

They walked on, Ginny talking a mile a minute and Harry nodding along, as if he was taking it all in. When they'd exhausted the magical flower and plant market, Ginny led him back out to the bicycle and they got back on, making a circuit around the island in the middle of the Seine to see the Cathedral.

"You should have brought a camera," Ginny said. "Or I should have thought to remind you to bring one."

"I'm fine. Seeing it is enough."

He looked at her and Ginny felt her face flush at the depth of whatever it was in those green eyes. She didn't know how to define it, but it seemed as if Harry was appraising her just as much as he had the market.

"Come on. If you thought that was amazing, just wait until you see a food market."

Harry chuckled behind her and pressed down firmly on the pedals, shooting them forward with a jolt. "I could eat again."

They wound through the streets, Ginny pointing out the Plase de la Bastille, and explaining that several infamous wizards had been imprisoned there, including Aloysisus the Awful, an old thief who wasn't nearly as awful as his name. All of his family had died away, leaving Aloysisus alone. With nowhere else to go, he'd started a petty theft ring with a group of thieves who were truly horrible at their craft.

"Did he want to be caught?"

"That was the point," Ginny said. "He'd rather be at the Bastille, where he knew people, and where he would be assured of food and a bed, possibly. The Bastille wasn't exactly known for its humane treatment of prisoners, but I'll bet magic helped that."

Harry shook his head. "The more I learn about wizards, the more I think they're the strangest lot around."

"Oh, that's just the tip of the weird stories, Harry," said Ginny. "I could start telling them and I'd still be talking a week later. Here we are!"

They'd arrived at the East Village to the Aligre Market. The crowds were not too bad, and Ginny pointed out the clock in the middle and the long tables full of odds and ends ware. Around the outside were fruits and vegetables of every color and variety you could ever imagine.

"Where do you want to start?"

"It all looks…" Harry stood with wide eyes and shook his head.

"Come on. Food first."

The market was more crowded than the flower one had been. Ginny pushed her way through and was startled when someone grabbed her hand. She looked down and then followed the arm up to see Harry give her a small smile.

"Almost lost you there."

Ginny wanted to pull away, but his hand was warm, calloused, and masculine. Her heart thundered against her ribs. She wasn't usually one for letting someone hold her hand, but it felt nice. And Harry didn't seem to be making a big deal about it. He was there, but his focus was on everything around them. Brushing off the idea that she should be annoyed, Ginny took a breath and pointed out the different varieties of fruits they were passing.

One man was doing some fancy moves with a large knife, tossing up small watermelons and carving slices out mid-air. A crowd was gathered around, and he would use the tip of his knife to fling chunks of the sweet fruit out for people to catch. One piece came flying toward Ginny and Harry caught it just before it hit her. Sweet and sticky juice splashed on her face and they both laughed. People around them clapped and cheered for Harry's catch. He offered her the piece and Ginny plopped it into her mouth. Harry was given a second piece for himself and he ate it while using the edge of his jacket to wipe the sticky residue off Ginny's face.

"Thanks."

Harry bought a bag of small oranges and, hiding behind Ginny, shrunk it down and put it into his jacket pocket before they continued on.

"Ahh, the cheese section. Fromage," Ginny said as they entered the covered part of the market. Behind glass counters and on shelves surrounding them was every type of cheese imaginable. "You won't be hungry when we leave here."

"Ron didn't like this place?" Harry asked when he was offered his third sample, shoved nearly into his mouth by an eager older woman who kept at him until Harry took the slice from her and hummed in enjoyment.

Ginny's eyebrows rose as she considered. "He didn't want to see it."

Harry scowled. "What? Ron loves food."

"Ron hates anything not magical," Ginny corrected, but then she felt bad. "That's not true." She sighed and rubbed her forehead. "He just...likes the familiar. He was only here for two days. I took him to a couple of places, but he was just...difficult. All he wanted to talk about was…" She closed her lips and shook her head.

"The past." Harry slid his hand into hers again and gave a nod. "Yeah."

They walked, accepting more samples until Ginny had to stop or she would burst.

"Where next?"

"What do you want to see?"

"I thought we were going to see it all?" Harry's smirk made her feel light and sort of...happy. They'd had fun so far.

"What about visiting Claudine?" As she said it, Harry's face from last night, his accusation that she was prideful like Claudine came into her mind and she had to look away. She wiggled her fingers to force Harry to let go. He sighed and let her pull away.

"Okay. Sounds good."