Great Expectations

A/N: Thanks so much for the many kind thoughts that came my way while I was recovering from an especially nasty bout of bronchitis. I managed to knock another chapter out over the past few days, though it was a bit like pulling dragon's teeth as it's never easy to come back to a story after being away from it for a few days. But I am on the mend and hopefully will be able to keep it going on a regular basis now. I appreciate your good wishes so very much. You people are fantastic and the main reason I keep writing.

Chapter Twelve

Rumors

Luna Lovegood wandered into London in January as though she had turned up there entirely by accident. She'd just returned from Albania where she had apparently succeeded in identifying and categorizing the Oozlum, a bird that flew backwards, which, Ginny reflected, was not unlike Luna herself. Ginny was very glad to see her old friend, for she was facing another Harry-less stretch while he worked on whatever he was working on in the Balkans, and thought that Luna's unique brand of improbability was exactly what she needed.

Hermione arranged to take a break from her legal studies to meet them for lunch at a restaurant Luna had recommended. It was always a bit of a risk going along with any of Luna's suggestions, but in this particular restaurant, located amid a collection of jazz clubs and a rather eclectic artist's colony, none of her eccentricities seemed at all out of place. Indeed, when Ginny arrived and found Luna already seated, sporting her customary radish-earrings and waving her arms above her head to ward off Wrackspurts, none of the Muggle patrons batted so much as an eyelash.

Luna stopped beating off Wrackspurts long enough to hug Ginny. "You look nice," she said, eyeing the Muggle maternity ensemble Ginny was wearing. "Put on a bit of weight, though, haven't you?"

"There's a reason for that," Ginny said irritably. Pregnant or not, no woman ever wanted to hear something like that. "I wrote you about it. I'm expecting another baby."

"Oh, yes," Luna said. "And Hermione is too, isn't that right? Seems to be all the rage these days. Maybe I should try it."

"Er, Luna," said Ginny, "don't you think you ought to get married first?"

"I may get round to that eventually," Luna agreed. "But I don't know about 'first.' I mean, it's not really necessary, is it? Muggles certainly don't seem all that fussed about it these days."

"How would you know that?"

"One hears things, you know," Luna replied serenely. "And I meet the most interesting people during my travels."

"I'll bet you do," said Ginny, unable to prevent a smile as she thought of the kind of people Luna would likely attract. She regarded her old friend fondly. The years had changed Luna very little. Her dirty blonde hair still hung below her waist, and she still wore a look that made her appear continually surprised by life, though Luna herself was one of the most surprising things in it.

"Speaking of interesting people," Luna said as Ginny hung up her coat and settled into a chair, "I ran across someone rather curious while traveling through Montenegro. Do you remember that time we went to the Department of Mysteries to rescue Stubby Boardman?"

"That wasn't Stubby Boardman, Luna," said Ginny. "It was Sirius Black."

"Of course," Luna replied, waving away the correction as a matter of little consequence. "But the man I saw was at the Ministry that night. I think his name was Rookwood."

"Augustus Rookwood?" said Ginny, remembering the Death Eater who had served a term of imprisonment for passing Ministry secrets to Lord Voldemort. Like Lucius Malfoy, he too had recently been released from Azkaban. "What was he doing in Montenegro?"

"No idea," Luna said. "I didn't actually speak to him, I only saw him while passing through a market in Podgorica. I'm quite sure it was him, though I don't think he recognized me."

Ginny frowned, trying to picture the geography of the area. Montenegro was near Croatia. Dolohov and Petroff had been spotted in Croatia. Was it mere coincidence that an ex-Death Eater was in the same region as two Voldemort supporters? Ginny didn't think so, especially in light of the fact that Harry was in that region, too.

"So, Luna," said Ginny, in an effort to distract herself from the sudden surge of fear that her friend's information had induced. "Will you be in London long? I'd love for you to come and stay at Grimmauld Place. Harry's abroad just now and I'd adore the company."

"Wish I could," Luna replied regretfully. "But I promised Daddy I'd spend a few days with him before I leave for my next assignment. I'm off to Poland, you know."

Luna went on to describe a recent massive migration of Crumple-Horned Snorkacks from their native Scandinavia to the European mainland. The fact that she had yet to actually see a Crumple-Horned Snorkack had apparently not discouraged her, nor her father who continued to publish rumors of sightings in The Quibbler, which maintained a small but loyal readership who, according to Luna, still depended on him to publish "the really important stories." Ginny, whose mind was still on Harry, only half listened and had completely forgotten about Hermione by the time she finally blew in, looking flushed, disheveled, and very out of breath. Her hair, Ginny noted, was even bushier than usual.

"Sorry I'm late," Hermione panted. "How are you, Ginny? Lovely to see you, Luna."

Hermione hugged Luna, who regarded her with a dreamy expression. "Hello, Hermione. Did you know that your buttons are in the wrong holes? Or did you do that deliberately?"

Hermione looked down. "Oh, er, thanks," she said, and redid the buttons on her maternity dress, blushing furiously.

Ginny's eyes narrowed, taking in Hermione's tousled, pink-cheeked appearance. And she was late! Hermione was never late. There was something suspicious going on here.

"So what kept you?" asked Ginny.

"Oh, nothing," Hermione replied. "Just a bit of, you know, shopping."

"Shopping?" Ginny persisted, noting the absence of bags or boxes. "What sort of shopping?"

"Odds and ends," Hermione replied, looking around for the waiter. "Have you ordered yet? I'm really hung. . ."

"Aha!" said Ginny, spotting something sticking out of Hermione's coat pocket which she'd just draped over the back of her chair. Before Hermione could stop her, she reached out and grabbed the object.

Hermione blanched. "For heaven's sake!" she exclaimed, snatching a pair of lacy black knickers out of Ginny's hands and stuffing it back into her pocket.

Ginny grinned devilishly. "Would you care to explain?"

Hermione, still blushing, glared at her. "I would not."

"Let me guess then," said Ginny. "You stopped by the joke shop on your way here."

Hermione covered her face with her hands. "And how is my dear brother?" Ginny prompted.

Without removing her hands, Hermione sighed. "I may as well tell you. George will have informed the entire family by sundown anyway."

"George?" said Ginny. "What does George have to do with anything?"

"He. . . That is, Ron and I," Hermione mumbled. "We, er, set off a few fireworks. In the storeroom."

Luna's protuberant eyes went wider than ever. "Do you mean that literally or figuratively?"

Ginny giggled. "I think she means both. The storeroom, Hermione? Really?"

"Well, Ron's office is being redecorated," Hermione said peevishly.

Ginny and Luna both laughed so uproariously that the other patrons, lackadaisical though most appeared to be, turned to stare at them. Ginny heard a thud, which she took to be the sound of Hermione's head hitting the table. She couldn't really tell, as she was laughing so hard that tears were streaming down her face.

"I don't know what's wrong with me," Hermione whispered in a mortified tone. "I can't seem to think about anything else lately. It was just sort of a whim and . . . Well, I left in a bit of a hurry." She indicated the undergarment in her coat pocket and covered her face again. "I don't think George will ever let either of us live this down."

"Probably not," Ginny agreed, wiping her eyes. "I'm not sure I can either."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "I'd go easy if I were you. I haven't forgotten the time you and Harry nearly got caught in one of the lifts at the Ministry."

"At least that was after hours," Ginny retorted. "But, all right, fair point. I'll go easy, but I can't vouch for George."

"Oh, God," Hermione moaned. "What was I thinking?"

"Don't feel too badly," said Ginny, taking pity on her. "What you're feeling right now is perfectly normal. Don't you remember what Katie and the others said that day at the Burrow? It's all down to those second trimester hormonal surges."

"I know that," said Hermione. "But it's like the whole mood swing issue, isn't it? I've always believed that we women needn't be slaves to our hormones. With enough determination we can control them, and I have controlled mine, at least so far. I haven't been moody or emotional at all. Just ask Ron."

Ginny's eyes twinkled at Luna to let her know that Hermione was delusional on this point. Ron had been a nervous wreck lately, especially in the face of his wife's denial. But Ginny's mood had definitely brightened, especially when she considered the fact that she'd soon be able to act on her own hormonal surges. Her pregnancy had progressed with such blissful normality of late that the healers had given her permission to resume normal marital relations. She had written to Harry with the news, which she had briefly imagined, given the frustration he displayed prior to his departure, might bring him home on the first available portkey. So far he hadn't been able to break away from his assignment, but had written back that he was really, really, really looking forward to returning to London where there would, without a doubt, be a hot time in the old town that night.

Ginny's fantasies were interrupted by the arrival of a waiter, who didn't turn a hair when Hermione asked for a rather unusual menu substitution."This pasta dish looks good," she said. "But could you leave off the cheese and drizzle a little chocolate sauce over it instead?"

"Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed. "It's got tomatoes and onions. . ."

"That's right," Hermione said, as though her request had been quite reasonable. "Just pour the chocolate right over the top."

"Right," said the bored looking waiter. "That's pasta primavera with chocolate 'stead 'o cheese. And what'll you have, Miss?"

When the waiter had gone to turn in their orders, Ginny shuddered. "And Harry thinks I'm weird for craving sardine and pickle sandwiches."

"That is weird," Hermione agreed. "Sardines and pickles, Ginny?"

"Oh, and onions with chocolate sauce is the height of normalcy?" Ginny shot back.

"Reminds me of the Oozlums," Luna interjected. "They crave odd things when they're nesting, too."

"We're not nesting," Hermione said, but her curiosity got the better of her. "What sort of things do they crave?"

"Human flesh, mostly," Luna replied in a preoccupied fashion.

Their drinks arrived and they sipped in silence for a minute. "Hermione," Ginny said as Luna's earlier comments returned to her, "I don't suppose you know anything about this situation in Croatia? Harry hasn't told me much about what he's doing there, but I thought, with your Ministry contacts. . ."

"Croatia?" Luna said. "You didn't tell me Harry was in in the Balkans, Ginny."

"Didn't I?" said Ginny. "Why? Does it matter?"

Luna shrugged. "I heard a few rumors while I was there. You know the Muggles in that region fought each other for a long time."

"Of course, the Yugoslav Wars," Hermione said. "But that ended ages ago."

"Yes, but things are still very unsettled," Luna explained. "Not so much in Croatia, but one of the rumors I heard is that certain Dark Wizards have been trying to keep things stirred up in Bosnia and a few other places. They're trying to destabilize the Muggle governments so they can't rebuild their economy or political systems. The idea, I believe, is that it would be easier for wizards to take over amid the chaos. There's an important election coming up later this year in Bosnia and Herzegovina, so that may have something to do with it."

Hermione looked impressed. "I had no idea you knew so much about Muggle politics, Luna."

"One hears things," Luna replied modestly. "Travel is very broadening, you know."

"Luna saw Augustus Rookwood in Montenegro," Ginny informed Hermione.

"Montenegro," said Hermione. "That's on the border of. . ."

"Croatia," Ginny finished for her. "Specifically Dubrovnik, which is where two Voldemort supporters were spotted a couple of months ago. That's why Harry went there in the first place."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Montenegro is fairly well known as a hot-bed of smuggling activity. There have been rumors that Dark Wizards were involved, but I had no idea there were Death Eaters in the middle of it."

"Voldemort's reach extended well beyond Britain," Ginny said grimly. "I've learned a lot more about the scope of his activities since I started researching this book."

"Book?" Luna said. "What book?"

"Ginny is writing a history of the Order of the Phoenix," Hermione explained.

"Are you, Ginny?" said Luna, looking genuinely interested. "That sounds fascinating."

"Yes," Ginny said faintly. "Fascinating."

The waiter returned with their food. Ginny tried to distract herself from her worry and the sight of Hermione's bizarre pasta concoction by listening to Luna describe the odd mating habits of Oozlums, but her mind kept coming back to whatever Harry was doing. No matter which way she tried to twist or turn it, the situation was frightening and the more frightened she became the angrier she felt. Hadn't they already been through enough of that, and wasn't it downright selfish of him to place himself at risk now, of all times? And why couldn't he have told her any of this himself? Was he still fool enough to believe she needed his protection or was it simply that, after all these years, he still did not trust her?

Ginny played absently with her food as her mind traveled back to that horrid time when he had been off hunting Horcruxes with Ron and Hermione. Her initial reaction upon learning that the three of them had Disapparated in the middle of Bill and Fleur's wedding had not been fear, but an aching despair and hurt that nearly floored her with its intensity. But anger followed pain, and it festered inside her like an abscess that swelled until the pressure became unendurable. Of course she was angry at Voldemort, and at the Death Eaters who continued to wreck such havoc on so many lives, but the brunt of her anger was directed at Harry. Unreasonable though it was, she was furious at him and some of that rage had never really gone away.

Ginny understood there were things that Harry, and only Harry, had to do. She'd understood as well that she, underage at the time and still subject to the Trace, would only have hampered their efforts. But understanding and acceptance are very different things, and Ginny had not been able to help feeling angry about being left behind for what felt like the millionth time in her life. As the youngest of seven, she had watched as, one by one, her brothers went away to Hogwarts and eventually left home for good. When Harry went away it had felt as if she was being left behind again, and not only left behind this time, but left out! Harry had always trusted Ron and Hermione with his secrets, but she knew nothing of the mission that took him from her after those few blissful weeks of togetherness, the culmination of years of waiting for him to notice her, to look around and see that all the love and happiness he'd ever wanted was there for the asking. But he'd gone away just as the dream became reality, and she'd been left behind once more, living on rumors of what the three of them were doing, never knowing from one day to the next if she'd ever see any of them alive again.

She'd taken her anger out in fighting. In starting up the D.A. again with Neville and Luna, Ginny found an outlet for her frustration, but there were still times in the loneliness of evening shadows that her anger was such that if Harry had suddenly appeared, she thought she would have hexed him without thinking. Did he know what she suffered, did he have any idea what she endured in his name, and did he even care? These were the questions that ran through her mind, and the idea that he was keeping her safe by putting her aside turned out to be a bit of a joke. The Death Eaters turned up at Hogwarts mere days into the fall term, and Ginny was dragged into an empty classroom by none other than Antonin Dolohov.

"I understand you're Potter's whore," Ginny remembered him snarling, leering into her face with a look that made her blood run cold.

Terrified though she was, Ginny nevertheless eyed him with contempt. "You've been misinformed."

"Don't lie to me, girl," Dolohov hissed. "Everyone knows the two of you were quite the hot little item this past spring."

"Who told you that? Draco Malfoy?" Ginny shrugged, trying to hide how badly her hands were shaking. "His information is out of date. Harry and I broke up. I have no idea where he is."

Dolohov's cold, dead eyes appraised her. "I could torture it out of you. Or maybe you'd rather watch while I use the Cruciatus Curse on your friends."

It went on that way for awhile, but Snape had saved her, swooping in like an overgrown bat to demand his prerogative as Headmaster. Knowing the high place Snape held in the Dark Lord's esteem, Dolohov released her, and Ginny had trembled while she waited for the former Potions Master's pleasure to be made known. But after staring at her for several inscrutable minutes, Snape merely ordered her to return to Gryffindor Tower, which left Ginny puzzled until she learned, much later, what Harry had seen in Dumbledore's Pensieve.

Ginny frowned as she recalled this incident. It had been years since she'd thought of it, but it was no mystery why it came to her now. It was all happening again, just as she'd always known it would. Harry was keeping her in the dark and putting himself in danger, and she would have some searing questions for him when and if he finally. . .

"Ginny?" said Luna who had noticed her silence. "Are you all right?"

"Oh, yes," Ginny replied. "Just woolgathering. What was it you were saying about Oozlums, Luna?"

"We weren't talking about Oozlums," Hermione said. "Luna was just telling me about her forthcoming, er, Crumple-Horned Snorkack expedition." Her mouth twitched with the effort not to lecture Luna about the futility of her mission. It was clear she was under a lot of strain. "Are you sure you're feeling all right, Ginny? You're not. . ."

"I feel fine," Ginny insisted. "I just. . . Well, my mind was wandering a bit."

Hermione scrutinized her. "He'll be all right, Ginny. Harry knows how to take care of himself. If anyone knows how good he is, I certainly . . ."

"Yes," Ginny interrupted. "You would know that, wouldn't you, Hermione?"

Hermione blinked at the unexpected bitterness in Ginny's tone. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Only that I wish my husband trusted me as much as he trusts you," Ginny said. "He's shared so many things with you and Ron that I'll never. . . that I can't. . ."

To her horror, Ginny felt tears spring to her eyes. Worst of all, Hermione looked anguished and hurt. "I'm sorry," Ginny said hastily. "I didn't mean that. It's just. . . It must be hormones. I guess I'm not as good as controlling them as you are."

Luna was patting her hand. "Have you told Harry any of this? Maybe if you talked about it. . ."

"How am I supposed to do that when the stupid prat is never home?" said Ginny, wiping her eyes with her serviette.

"He'll be back soon," Luna assured her. "You should talk to him, Ginny. Harry loves you so much. I'm sure he'll understand if you tell him how you feel."

"If it's any comfort, Ginny," Hermione said gently, "Harry doesn't share things with Ron and me the way he used to. I think there are a lot of things he can't talk about now, especially with his job as an Auror."

"Can't?" Ginny said. "Or won't?"

Hermione gave her a direct look. "If he's given his word, he'll never break it. Not for Ron and me, nor for anyone else either. If I know anything about Harry, it's that honor is what drives him. It's the most important thing in his life."

"Most important," Ginny repeated. "The most important thing?"

"Yes, Ginny," Hermione said. "The most important thing. But I think you already know that about him. There's an old Muggle poem that states, 'I could not love thee, dear, so much, loved I not honor more.' Harry's honor is the reason he's able to love you the way he does. And it's one of the reasons, I believe, that you love him."

Hermione was right, of course. She was always right. Damn her. Ginny apologized again, and the rest of the luncheon passed harmoniously until Luna announced that she had to be on her way. They made their goodbyes, then Luna and Hermione found a quiet alleyway from which to Apparate while Ginny, who still wasn't permitted to use magical transport, hailed a Muggle taxi. When the cabdriver let her off at Grimmauld Square, she sat for a minute on a low wall facing the house Muggles could not see, or witches and wizards either who had not been specifically invited. Harry had kept all the protective enchantments around the property, initially to discourage journalists and curiosity seekers, and later because it made him feel safe to know that his family was in such a secure environment. But sometimes it felt a little too secure for Ginny. Sometimes, in fact, it felt a little bit confining.

She climbed the front steps, but before she could reach for the handle, the door was opened and Harry stood there, grinning at her.

"Where did you come from?" Ginny demanded, after he'd pulled her inside and given her a kiss that made her toes curl.

"Originally, Godric's Hollow," Harry replied, still holding onto her in a tight clinch from which there was no escape. "I caught an early portkey. Or rather five early portkeys. Five changes. Five! Merlin, what a mess. Where have you been? I've been waiting for hours."

"Luna was in town," Ginny said. "I had lunch with her and Hermione. Are you back to stay?"

"Only for a little while, I'm afraid. I have to go back, but when I saw an opportunity to take a few days off, I jumped at it. After your letter. . . Well, I couldn't get home fast enough." His eyes gleamed with unmistakable intent.

"Wait a minute," said Ginny, as he backed her toward the stairs. "What about James?"

"Still at the Burrow. Your mum agreed to keep him overnight. She'll bring him back in the morning."

Ginny opened her mouth to ask another question, but Harry silenced her with another kiss, his hands already undoing the careful plait she had bound her hair into that morning.

"So is this just a shag and run?" she asked, unable to work up much in the way of outrage when he started nibbling on her neck.

"Actually, I'm hoping to get in a number of shags," Harry murmured, his fingers slowly unbuttoning the tiny buttons on the back of her maternity top. "I don't know about running. . ." He broke off at the feel of a firm jolt from Ginny's midsection.

Ginny's mouth twisted into a wry smile. "I think Albus is attempting to defend my honor."

"Sorry, Albus," said Harry, placing a gentle hand on her belly. "Why don't you go back to sleep? Mummy and I have things to do. Believe me, someday you'll understand." Without further ado, he swept Ginny off her feet, staggering a little at the extra weight. "You know, you're a lot heavier than you were the last time I did this."

Ginny arched a brow at him. "Not the way to get into a girl's knickers, Potter."

"Okay then," said Harry. "You're light as a feather. So can we. . ."

He smelled of wind and sunshine, and his eyes gazed at her with such longing. She could feel his desire and hers fed upon it, for that was the way it had always been between them. Whatever they had to talk about could surely wait. Before anything else could transpire, before the world could keep turning, in fact, this was a sacrament that must be observed.

"Five portkeys?" Ginny asked, tightening her arms about his neck.

"Five," Harry replied. "Five, Ginny!"

"Lead on, McDuff," said Ginny, and without another word, or even the need for more words, he carried her up the stairs to their bedroom.

A/N: The line from the "Old Muggle poem" Hermione refers to in this chapter comes from "To Lucasta" by Richard Lovelace, a 17th century English Cavalier and metaphysical poet. By the way, Oozlums are creatures from folklore that are alleged to fly backwards. I didn't make them up, nor did Luna, bless her.
Notes to Anonymous Reviewers: This includes all those for whom I do not have email addresses. All others receive personal responses, as do all signed reviews. If I've missed anyone, anonymous or otherwise, let me know.

Mimosa: Sorry for turning you into a tap. Plumbers are expensive where I live too. If I had any sense, I'd study plumbing instead of writing, but I have no sense, ergo I write. As for writing when I'm sick, I'm a very bad patient and am constitutionally incapable of lying in bed for very long. I might slow down a bit when I'm ill, but if I ever stop altogether somebody had better call a coroner. So glad you liked the last chapter. By the time I finished it, I was in such a state that I wasn't all that certain of the alphabet, but the reaction was positive and very heartwarming. Not too sure about this one either as it was hammered out over a much longer period than usual, so it was hard to keep the flow of the story going, but I'll let you be the judge. Thanks, as always, for your very kind words.

Amy: Andromeda's losses at the end of DH were heavier than anyone's, with the possible exception of Harry himself. After losing her husband, daughter, and son-in-law to Voldemort's minions, to have Narcissa, a Voldemort supporter and scion of a family who disowned her for marrying Ted Tonks, come out of that situation with her family intact, would be fairly upsetting. Of course it was Bellatrix who killed Nymphadora, and Bella and Cissy were on good terms when that happened. So while I think Andromeda ended up 'okay' (primarily because of Teddy, I'm sure), she has cause for bitterness. I doubt anyone could ever completely get over something like that. I know I couldn't.

xKristinax: You're on the right track with your "seven" guesses, but the ones I'm looking for are specific to this story. In other words, every time you see the word seven mentioned, take note.

Dana: Pregnant women do tend to have enormous appetites. That old axiom about eating for two really does have some basis in fact, so I don't think it's a permanent thing with Hermione. However, I have a feeling her hormones will get worse before they get better, especially as she's in complete denial about it (poor Ron!) so stay tuned for that.

THEWORLDOFHPEXISTSNOMATTERWHAT: Thanks for the extra long review. Yes, Ron is always looking for a "get out" clause, even when it comes to buying gifts for his godson. And he's totally right about Lucius Malfoy (as are you). Jo indicated in an interview that Harry testified on behalf of the Malfoys after the war because of what Narcissa did in the Forbidden Forest, but I'd like to think old Lucius got some jail time. He certainly deserved it.

Leah: Thanks for your comments. I'm not sure yet how long this story is going to be. I know where I want to take it (and yes, it is "full-length) but haven't completely worked out all the details. To answer your question, however, it'll be as long as it needs to be. It won't go as far as all the children going away to Hogwarts, though I have written another full-length fanfic called The Letter that begins the summer before James starts Hogwarts (10 years after this story takes place) which you can access by clicking on my profile page.

ChickenChild: I don't know that I'll be writing about Albus, Scorpius, et al, anytime soon, as I still want to write my Teddy Lupin story, but I'll keep your suggestion in mind. Thanks for your comments.

Padfootprongs7: You're obviously a "fluff" lover since you liked the first part of the last chapter. There'll be plenty more of that, don't worry. Thanks for your review.

Wondergirl19879: I'm glad you didn't think my thoughts were scattered, as even on my best days, they generally are. I appreciate your remarks.

Old Navy: Your comment that this story is "odd, but very cute" is apt, as it describes me in a nutshell. Thanks!

chinchillaqueen13: Don't want you to explode (can't have that!) so I'll try to keep updates coming as quickly as possible. Thank you.