A/N: These chapters always seem to take me longer than I expect, and this one gave me particular fits. Yes, it has three separate conversations between Harry and Ginny, but I promise, they have a purpose and I promise that "something" happens next chapter to change things. So yes, now that I've said it I have to get it going. Enjoy and review if that's your thing. Thanks to a few of my writing friends for being supportive even through my little meltdown tantrum earlier. You guys mean more than I can convey.

Has the Chosen One Made His Choice?

by Rita Skeeter

It's no secret that Harry Potter has kept affairs of the heart close to his chest, so to speak. Even this reporter must admit that her first instincts were wrong when it came to Potter's romantic impulses. While Miss Hermione Granger is certainly a close friend, it is now obvious to all that her heart belongs to another - Harry's best friend Ronald Weasley.

But still, these affairs of the heart are all in the family, so this reporter has on good and strong authority. If rumors are to be believed - and trust me, my sources are never wrong - the youngest Weasley child, only daughter Ginevra, is inexplicably linked to Harry Potter and his future. And although Potter's allegiance should be unquestioned after the events of last May, the fact that his linking to Miss Weasley came through channels of Dark Magic cannot be denied. It may have only been whispers four years ago during Hogwarts' ill-fated Tri-Wizard Tournament, but now certainty has reared its inevitable head, as Dark Magic is wont to do.

One only needs to consider the number of times the couple has been seen together in the past weeks. Why just this morning,, the two were spotted in a quiet corridor at the Ministry, having what seemed to be either a heated discussion or some sort of foreplay. Only time will tell which is the accurate characterization. Until then we must . . . con't on page six . . .

"Bloody buggering hell." Harry smacked the Evening Prophet on the table. "I should have known someone would see us. Why the fuck did it have to be Skeeter?"

Sirius was swiftly reading the article. "So I take it you and Ginny were not engaged in some sort of dark magical foreplay?" he said mildly.

"No!" Harry spoke louder than he intended. "Sorry," he said, lowering his voice. "It's just, yeah, we weren't having a talk about the weather but I don't think it looked like we were about to . . . I mean, we weren't fighting . . . exactly."

"Exactly?"

Harry dropped into a chair. "I may have hurt our chance to break the contract by not taking Ginny with me to the bottom of the lake. You know, to prove that she's not the thing I'd miss the most. We were talking about that." He turned the salt shaker in his hand. "It's not out of the question though - the contract can still be broken." He tried to keep the defensiveness out of his voice. "The mer-queen said it was inevitable."

"She said what was inevitable? That the contract can be broken?"

"Yes. Well, I don't know. Maybe." Harry ran his hand through his hair. "She kind of spoke in circles, like the Unspeakables did. And then she left, and you know, the grindylows." He grimaced in memory. "But something was inevitable."

"I see," said Sirius slowly. "Could it have been that . . . well where did you and Ginny leave things?"

"Could it have been what?" asked Harry. Sirius appeared to be studying the wood grain of the table and he felt a sudden flash of annoyance at his godfather. "I know you've got something you've been wanting to say, so why don't you just go ahead and get it off your chest?"

Sirius looked at him for a long moment. "You sound a lot like James right now." He shook his head to himself. "Remus was better at this; at getting James - and me for the matter - to stop being so self-centered when we thought we were right. Like with how he treated Lily."

"How did my dad treat my mum?" Harry flicked his wand at the kettle on the stove. "Do you want tea?"

Sirius nodded. "There are some cakes left too." A covered platter flew through the air. He pushed it towards Harry. "James - your dad - was stubborn about what he thought was the best way to treat Lily. After they began coming friends, I mean. He didn't always give her space."

"I give Ginny plenty of space!" said Harry indignantly. "That's actually been the problem, right? That I should be spending more time with her?" He pulled the cloth off the platter of sweets and took some time selecting one so he didn't have to see Sirius's face. As much as he wanted to hear more stories about his parents, he didn't like the implication that he and Ginny were anything like them.

"You misunderstand," said Sirius gently, and Harry had to snort.

"You sound like Dumbledore; I didn't know what he was talking about half the time."

"Well, that's the first and probably the only time anyone will ever compare me to Dumbledore," laughed Sirius. The tension in the kitchen faded. "Otherwise I would have been a lot better at sneaking around the castle. We didn't all fit under your dad's cloak after Third Year; Second, if we included Peter." He shook his head in remembrance before looking at Harry again. "But that's not what I mean. Once he and Lily started becoming friends Sixth Year, James didn't want to listen when I told him their entire relationship wouldn't fall to pieces if he happened to go a day without speaking to her. Was convinced Lily would forget about him and go running back to being friends with Snivellus if she skipped a day in his presence." Sirius gave Harry a piercing look. "That's not how friendship works, you know. Quality almost always matters more than quantity."

"I know that," said Harry. "And obviously my dad did too. He and my mum got together, didn't they?"

"They did," nodded Sirius. "After James made himself sick staying up half the night helping Lily with her homework after playing nearly eight hours of Quidditch in the freezing rain first. He'd seen her talking to Snape and assumed they were about to hop off to a private study date in a secluded corner of the library. Ended up in the Hospital Wing for two days where Lily visited him and told him he didn't have to try so hard." Sirius grinned. "He listened to her, of course."

"Of course," echoed Harry. He could see it all in his mind. "But I still don't understand what this has to do with me and Ginny. Like I said, I don't have any trouble leaving her alone."

"You don't like it when anyone tells you how to treat her though," said Sirius. "If you want to break the contract - or whatever you've decided to do - then maybe you need to stop thinking you're the only one with answers." The tea kettle had begun to whistle and Sirius silenced it with a flick of his wand, filling two mugs and adding a measure of Firewhiskey to each before handing one to Harry.

Harry ran his hand through his hair. "I don't have the answers though; that's the problem. The Unspeakables said there had to be a friendship promise, remember? So that's what I've been trying to do - become Ginny's friend." Harry grabbed the Firewhiskey and added more to his tea before taking a deep drink. He was feeling a strong sense of deja vu - hadn't he and Sirius sat around drinking whiskey and talking about friendship promises before? The night he and Ginny had gone to the Department of Mysteries, in fact. And here they were more than two weeks later and Harry couldn't say what kind of progress they'd made at all. He drank more tea.

"Did you tell Ginny that?"

Harry looked up. "Did I tell her what? She knows we have to become friends." He stifled a flush of annoyance at the thought of have to.

Sirius took the bottle and doctored his own mug some more. "Did you tell her you don't have all the answers? Or ask her what she thought you should do next?"

Harry shuffled in his seat. He and Ginny had talked for a long time in Hogsmeade but had Harry actually asked what she thought they should do? He didn't even have to think about the answer; he knew he hadn't. But admitting it, even to Sirius, felt like an admission of failure.

"She doesn't have any answers either," he said instead.

Sirius saw through this immediately. "Did you even ask her?"

Harry shrugged. "It's complicated."

Sirius slapped his hand on the table and Harry jumped. "Of course it's complicated, Harry. If it was simple you'd have broken the contract the first week and never spared a thought for Ginny again." He leaned back in his chair. "That's not an excuse."

Harry didn't miss the fact that Sirius had used his first name, like Ginny did when she was annoyed with something he'd said. He stifled the urge to get defensive and took another sip of his tea. "I'll ask her," he said finally.

Sirius nodded, satisfied. "James always did best when he listened to me too," he said.

Harry took another deep breath. "Just . . . keep in mind that I'm not trying to get Ginny to fancy me. So it's not exactly the same thing." He fiddled with the tea cake in front of him. He wasn't really worried about making Sirius angry but he didn't want to sound ungrateful either. He looked up. "I love hearing about my parents, you know that. It's just . . ."

"It's just that now I'm the one who's trying too hard." Sirius gave Harry a thoughtful look. "You're right; your situation with Ginny is very different and I've been trying to draw parallels from your parents' story to your own without stopping to think if it made sense." He gave Harry a wry look. "Like you said, it's more complicated than that. Getting your mum to stop seeing your dad as a toerag was quite easy in comparison."

Harry grinned. "And was there . . ." He stopped for a moment, considering whether he wanted to ask the question, and then decided he really did. "Was there anyone who had to learn that you weren't a toerag? At Hogwarts, I mean." He held his breath; wondering if he'd gone too far. Sirius smiled, a little sadly.

"I was never a toerag; James did well to watch and learn from me." He pushed back his chair and stood up. "But yes, there was someone, once. Not as serious as your parents were, but then, maybe if we'd had a bit more time . . ." He ruffled Harry's hair and then rested his hand on his shoulder. "Talk to Ginny, won't you? Ask her what her answers are."

It was not quite a dismissal, and Harry couldn't feel upset with his godfather, whose losses surpassed even his own. He nodded and then yawned. It had been a long day; his talk with Ginny at the Ministry that morning seemed ages ago. He stood up too. "I'll listen more, and ask questions," he promised. He yawned again. "I'm going to bed now, though. They've been hinting that things are about to get a lot tougher at training."

Sirius nodded. "I'll see you in the morning; it's my turn to make coffee."

But in the end, Harry didn't get to drink any of Sirius's coffee. At two in the morning his Auror trainee badge began humming and vibrating on Harry's bedside table. He woke up when the noise rose in pitch and managed to remember the spell to silence it before it fell into a full out wail. Thankful that he'd taken care to leave his robes in "ready mode" he threw them over his shoulders and touched his hand to his badge just as it began to glow, the Portkey activating and whisking him to the Ministry for a surprise training call.

About half his class arrived looking much as Harry did: tired and befuddled but dressed. Ron was in the process of shrugging into his robes and Harry would have bet anything that Hermione had been the one to push him awake and shove his clothing at him at the last second. A number of trainees arrived in various states of undress; Lee was bare-chested and in pajama bottoms but Harry wasn't sure that was not a deliberate fashion choice on his part. Four identification tags returned alone and Harry did not envy those classmates or what they were going to have to do as a consequence for missing the surprise exercise.

Not that the exercise itself ended up being interesting. Harry was not the only one groaning to learn they had all been woken up at 2 am to help organize old case files using a variety of bookkeeping charms that would allow them to be categorized and searched for unique facts and pieces of evidence. It might have been okay if the cases they were reviewing concerned Death Eater activity or similar but Harry's group of Ron, Lee, Angelina and Susan Bones was looking through what were known as "serial suspicions", which was a more official way of describing witches and wizards who saw Dark activity everywhere they looked. So far Harry had catalogued four calls from the same witch for what turned out to be her own cat mewling to gain entrance to her home and Lee (who had decided not to bother transfiguring a shirt) was sorting through supposed sightings of the Dark Mark in things like mud puddles, pipe smoke, and on once occasion, a piece of toast.

Briefly, Harry wondered if somewhere in the stacks of old files was a report about his parents. Three times they'd defied Voldemort; had the Aurors been involved or had the Ministry been overrun then too? Had someone written about their deaths later? Someone intent on trying to untangle the magic as opposed to wanting to sell more newspapers with a sensational story about The Boy Who Lived?

As if reading his mind, Angelina looked up from her stack of parchment. "What did Ginny say about Rita Skeeter's article? Did the two of you really get in a fight yesterday morning? I didn't notice anything."

Harry knew Angelina was asking not out of morbid curiosity but because she cared about him and Ginny; still, the question rankled.

"I don't know," he said tightly. "I only just saw it myself tonight before I went to bed, and now I'm here, right?" He kept his voice low but the room they were working in was small. Calliope Finch looked up from the next table over.

"But she was right, wasn't she? Rita Skeeter? That you and Ginny are ensnared by a Dark contract that came into being during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Do you think she's figured out the terms?" She pushed her glasses up on her nose and peered at Harry.

Calliope's interest was almost surely academic; she was always asking their instructors for the theory behind the spells they learned. But Pavarti was sitting next to her and when her eyes lit up Harry knew that it wasn't to ask what ritual steps Barty Crouch Jr. had used. "What are you and Ginny doing to try to fall in love? I assume you can't use a potion or anything like that." She leaned forward. "Have you taken her on a date?"

Harry didn't bother pointing out to Parvati that falling in love was not the only possible end-result for him and Ginny; he knew that as far as the Parvati was concerned, the thought of being forced into a love match was practically a recipe for marriage.

"This isn't really a dating situation," he said. "It's a contract created by Dark Magic; there could be all kinds of dangers we don't know about. We need to get that sorted." He'd meant to imply that the danger associated with the contract precluded any and all romantic gestures. Parvati didn't take it that way though. She gave an airy wave of her hand.

"Well, afterwards then," she said, as if all Harry had to do was extinguish the evil from the contract and then ask Ginny to start dating. And just like that, his thoughts jumped, and Harry jumped up with them. Ron looked up in alarm.

"What's wrong?" he asked sharply. He'd manage to get his robes on and fastened as looked a bit more awake than he had a half-hour ago. Everyone else in the room went quiet.

Harry shook his head and slowly sat back down. "Nothing," he said. "I just thought for a second . . ." He shook his head again. "It's nothing." He dropped his voice. "I'll tell you lot as soon as I figure it out; something Parvati said made me wonder if . . . nothing; it's probably nothing." He lowered his tone even more. "And I'd rather not have it show up in the papers tomorrow."

"You were right, Harry," Ron suddenly said loudly. "I didn't expect any of the files to bite like that. Glad you got out of the way in time. We really should check the rest for dark hexes too." He waved his wand over the table in a complicated pattern that Harry was very sure wouldn't have hurt a flobberworm. Next to him, Angelina was moving files out of the way.

"I think this one is vibrating," she said, peering closer. After a moment she sat up. "I think I cancelled it out."

Harry gave his friends a grateful look. "Thanks," he muttered, pulling another stack of files towards him. His thoughts were still swirling but the mundane task plus the early hour meant that he was really too tired to think too deeply. Fortunately, it seemed like everyone else in the room felt the same way too; even Parvati was yawning and not paying him any attention anymore.

At 6 a.m. the senior Aurors brought in coffee and donuts and a little before 9 they were all finally excused to have a day off. Harry made appreciative noises with the rest of the trainees and filed tiredly to the lifts. He thought for a moment about staying behind and asking Gawain or Camilla Stalk about his idea, but he was afraid he wouldn't make sense at the moment. Besides, he thought belatedly, he probably needed to talk to Ginny first.

And of course, there was Ginny in the Atrium, standing right in front of the lift as Harry burst out with the rest of the trainees. She was waiting for it to empty so that she could go up to her classes, Harry knew, but in the moment it felt like she had been waiting for him. Indeed, almost immediately he felt a poke from behind.

"Ask her out." Parvati's voice was low in his ear as she walked by, as eager as everyone else to take advantage of their unexpected freedom before exhaustion took over. She gave Ginny a bright smile before glancing back at Harry and raising her eyebrows.

"Oooh, see you later, Harry," said Susan Bones as she walked by. Ginny's lips tightened.

Harry stepped aside. "Sorry about that," he said, not sure why he was apologizing,

"Are you coming up Ginny? Or should I tell Professor Goode that you'll be a little late because you're talking to Harry?" Luna peered frankly at him. She was standing next to Demelza Robbins and Jimmy Peakes, who were already half in the lift looking, but seemed to be in no rush herself.

"We're all going to be late because of those buggering Aurors who couldn't get through security," groused a girl in Ravenclaw robes Harry thought was called Mimi. She looked at Harry, "I thought you all got badges, unlike us."

Harry looked over at the security desk and bit back a snort. Apparently the four trainees who had missed their portkey completely had finally arrived for work, only to find that they would not be allowed upstairs without their badges. He watched for a moment as Ernie McMillan sputtered to the guard, who had obviously been given very strict orders not to let the four through, regardless of his familiarity with them as regular employees of the Ministry. He shook his head. "I don't envy whatever Gawain dreams up for them," he said.

"Yeah, but now we really have to get going," said Jimmy impatiently. "I can't be late again." He stepped fully into the lift. "Come on, Luna. Ginny?"

"Ahh, look at her face, she still has something more to fight with Harry about. Or what did Skeeter say? Some sort of angry foreplay?" Harry didn't recognize the voice and didn't turn to see if he knew the speaker by sight. Ginny didn't follow Luna into the lift and still hadn't said a word. It was her face he watched, although it gave little away.

"I'll be up in a minute," she finally said. Tell Professor Goode I'm in the loo or something."

Demelza touched Ginny's arm as she stepped the rest of the way into the lift. "Good luck," she said meaningfully.

The lift finally closed but of course the Atrium was far from empty. Harry couldn't tell if any of the witches and wizards rushing around were paying any attention to them, but he couldn't help but feel there was an enormous spotlight on him and Ginny. He looked around.

"Should we . . .?" he said, gesturing to the side of the lifts. "We're less likely to get run over, at least."

Ginny shrugged. "Since finding a private corridor didn't matter last time anyway. She stepped to the side. "So you're getting it too?"

Getting what?" He hated to have to ask, in case the answer was something that should have been obvious, and now his not knowing was going to make Ginny upset with him. For although it was clear that something was bothering her, for now Harry felt relatively certain that the reason wasn't him, and he did not want to do anything to change that. But she just sighed.

"The suggestion that there's something between us. Isn't that what Parvati meant? I know Demelza and Jimmy think there is, and they're my friends. Who knows what everyone else is looking for after Skeeter wrote that article. I thought her Animagus ability had been taken away?" Ginny glared at Harry and this time he felt like something was his fault. He shook his head.

"That was only temporary, but I don't think she overheard us that way. Too many people know about her now. She probably has snitches all over the Ministry instead." But the way Rita Skeeter got her news wasn't really important, and it wasn't even surprising to Harry that he'd become the object of yet another slanted article. It didn't bother him much anymore. He gave Ginny a sympathetic grimace. "They don't really matter."

"Of course they matter! She's telling everyone that we're falling in love - do you understand what that means?" Ginny ran her hands impatiently through her hair.

"It means that Skeeter's trying to sell more copies of the paper, same as always." Harry shrugged. Maybe this was what he was supposed to apologize for. "I'm sorry Ginny, I know it's . . ." Harry cast around for the right word. He didn't want to downplay Skeeter's article - Ginny was obviously upset about it - but he didn't want to overstate it either. "It's frustrating," he said finally. "And kind of embarrassing. Especially when she writes things that are blatantly false." He took a step closer. "But the thing is, we - you and I - know she's wrong and so do all the people who matter. Who cares what everyone else thinks?" Harry felt like silently congratulating himself on coming up with the right thing to say. But almost immediately, Ginny shook her head.

"We need to care, Harry, because if everyone is always watching us and making comments and assumptions and jokes, it's going to make it impossible for us to act the way that will . . ." She threw up her hands. "I don't even know what I'm saying."

Harry didn't either. Despite suspecting that what Ginny was saying was likely important, the previous night of interrupted sleep was rapidly catching up with him. He stifled a yawn and forced himself to look alert. "So you're saying that people commenting will . . . something?"

Ginny gave him an odd look. "Yes, that we won't ever be able to act natural around each other if people are constantly watching us to . . . do something. But we haven't even figured out what that something is, have we?"

Harry's thoughts flitted around the edge of what Ginny was saying. There was something he wanted to ask her, and something he needed to tell her, but his sluggish brain wouldn't catch up. He gave in to the urge to yawn and Ginny cocked her head at him.

"What is wrong with you, Harry? You look kind of peaky all of a sudden. Should you go see the Matron instead of going to training?" Ginny looked across the Atrium. "Where did the rest of your class go?"

Harry yawned again. "We have the day off - been here since two. S'prise training." He looked across the Atrium where the four oversleeping trainees were still in discussion with the guard, but had now been joined by several senior Aurors. "They missed the Portkey."

"And will be spending the day cataloguing confiscated counterfeit protective objects and Muggle artifacts as a result," said a mild voice. "Hasn't been done in over a decade, I daresay." Arthur Weasley smiled at Harry and Ginny. "If the two of you intend to continue your conversation, may I suggest that it take place somewhere other than the Atrium? I've heard Skeeter is already planning a follow-up." His eyes twinkled. "Molly's spent yesterday baking."

Harry was about to respond that no, Ginny was heading up to class and he back to Grimmauld Place and his bed, when Ginny answered first. "I wouldn't mind skiving today, actually." She looked sidlelong at Harry. "Would apple pie help wake you up?"

"It's blueberry," said Arthur. "And you might want to come up with a better excuse than skiving if you're headed to the Burrow."

Ginny grinned at her father. "I'll say it was your idea."

Arthur groaned good naturedly. "Save me some pie," he said, kissing Ginny on the cheek. He rested a hand on Harry's shoulder for a moment. "I'll see you both at dinner Sunday." He headed over to the Auror trainees with a cheerful "who wants to be on rubber duck duty?" before turning and waving goodbye.

"Is that okay? I realize I didn't give you much of a choice." Ginny bit her lip. "I just . . . when I saw Skeeter's story, and then I heard Parvai, and Demelza and Jimmy too. It all could be ruined, and we don't even know what it is, you know?"

"Not really." Harry was too tired to keep being polite. "Why don't you explain it to me?"

"I'm going to blame your lack of sleep for your attitude and not hex you - yet," said Ginny. She grabbed Harry's arm. "Can I trust you to find your way through the Floo in one piece?"

"Probably," said Harry. "What's the next grate after yours, the Lovegoods?"

"Yes, but Luna's upstairs in class right now, remember? And once you get Xeno started talking you'll never get him to stop. So please try to aim for the Burrow."

"Yes ma'am," said Harry. "I'll be careful."

Ginny gave him an odd look, as if she wasn't sure if he was joking or not, but didn't say anything else. Harry made sure to speak very clearly and just a few dizzying minutes later they were sitting at the table in the Burrow's kitchen being served fat slices of lemon cake, the pie having been sent off to Grimmauld Place just that morning.

"Sirius asked if I could make a dessert for him to have there, and I didn't get the impression he was going to eat it alone." Mrs. Weasley spoke briskly as she directed a rolling pin to another lump of pie crust. "So I'll just make another before Arthur gets home and he'll be none the wiser."

Harry put down his cup of tea. "Sirius is having someone over? Did he say that?"

"Or going out; I'm not certain. But if I'm reading him right, there is someone else involved." Mrs. Weasley looked at Harry for a moment. "You don't sound completely surprised."

Harry picked his tea up again and took a sip, appreciating that it was strong. "I'm not; he went out the other night and I thought maybe . . . but it could also just be a friend, right?" He didn't like sounding uncertain but at the same time, he didn't want to say too much, especially before he talked to his godfather. Which now looked like it would have to be sooner rather than later, if Mrs. Weasley already suspected something.

She seemed to understand. With a final flick of her wand the top crust settled over the pie pan full of berries and floated into the oven. "I'm going to be out in the garden setting the warming charms; it's supposed to be frost tonight." She lay her hand on Harry's shoulder for a moment in a gesture nearly identical to her husband's.

"Thanks, Mrs. Weasley," he said. "For the cake and . . . everything."

"There's plenty more, help yourselves," she said. "And Ginny, I'll overlook you skipping class this once since it's for a good reason, but not again."

Once her mother had left, Ginny grimaced. "She's always had a soft spot for you; anyone else I brought home instead of going to class and I'd get a proper talking to." She didn't sound that angry though.

"Despite the danger I've gotten several of her children into over the years," he said dryly. "But at least if she's focused on Sirius she can't be too involved in . . . you and me or whatever."

"Whatever," Ginny agreed. She took a sip of her tea. "What do you want to do?"

Harry rubbed at his eyes. "About what, again?" Snippets of his talk with Sirius from the night before came back. "Wait, I'm supposed to ask you something."

Ginny raised her eyebrows. "Supposed to?"

Harry nodded, thinking. "I'm supposed to ask you want you want to do next, yes." He looked up at her. "So?"

Ginny sighed with exaggerated patience. "That's what I'm trying to ask you, Harry. Now that people are watching us it's going to make things harder. What do you want to do about it?"

Harry started to answer and then shook his head, Sirius's voice in his ear. "Don't ask me; I've made enough mistakes." It wasn't quite admitting that he didn't have all the answers but it was close enough. "Besides, I'd think you'd be tired of me bossing you by now. Don't you want to decide something?" He expected Ginny to roll her eyes and say something like about time you realized that, Potter. Instead she looked uncomfortable.

A longer than natural beat of silence passed. Ginny was dividing her cake into smaller and smaller pieces with her fork and not looking at him. "Ginny, what is it?" Harry didn't want to imagine what was wrong. Had she talked to Bill on her own? Did she know something? Harry counted to ten in his head. "No matter how bad it is, you can't keep it from me, you know." He hoped he sounded encouraging and not accusing.

Ginny nodded. "It's not . . . bad, exactly. More embarrassing." She finally looked up. "For me."

"You mean because of Skeeter's article? I know it's embarrassing but like I said, you learn to ignore it." Harry let out a breath. If this was just about the attention, he could deal with that. But Ginny shook her head. "I know; I'm not embarrassed. I don't actually get embarrassed easily anymore." She gave him a small smile. "People stared at me after the Chamber, remember? And then they forgot."

"Including me," said Harry with a grimace. That particular conversation in Grimmauld Place had been particularly awkward, at a time when every interaction he and Ginny had was awkward. But that was in the past now and the last thing he wanted to do was dredge up irrelevant history. He leaned forward and gently pulled Ginny's plate away from her. "Why don't you tell me instead of taking it out on that poor piece of cake?"

Ginny gave a small snort. "Yeah, what did the cake ever do to me?" She met Harry's eye. "It's just that, don't hate me, but I've kind of been letting you be in charge so far. Of how we deal with the contract and things." She let out a breath but kept her gaze on him, waiting.

Harry wasn't sure he understood. "What do you mean, let me? You disagreed with me plenty of times." Indeed, all he could really remember when he thought back over the past few weeks was having arguments with Ginny. Sometimes they were discussions, he allowed, but there was alway an undercurrent of conflict. He couldn't remember Ginny ever just capitulating. She shook her head.

"I tried not to make it obvious; I guess I succeeded." She gave a small shrug. "But it was the easiest way to keep you around, you know? Those first few days you had that look about you that you just wanted to flee."

Harry started to open his mouth to protest and then closed it again. Because the truth was, Ginny was right, at least as to how he'd felt right after they'd learned about the contract. If he'd not had the Aurors, and Sirius at home, he might well have found a way to go off by himself for a bit. He nodded.

"I'd never had a problem I could run away from before," he said honestly. "I mean, without bringing down the entire wizarding world at the same time. So yeah, the thought did cross my mind at first. But only at first." He leaned in. "I would have come back before too long, I promise."

"Yeah well, I didn't know that, did I?" Ginny stood up abruptly and one to pour herself some more tea. "And then, it wasn't like your ideas were terrible, so if it meant you kept at it, that was fine with me." She topped off Harry's mug without asking and then sat back down. "And it's worked for a while, hasn't it?"

Harry didn't answer. The thought that Ginny had been agreeing with him solely to keep him from running off was upsetting, but at the same time kind of brilliant. He doubted he'd have been able to pull off something similar if the situation had been reversed. "The Black Lake idea was terrible," he said. "That might have been a good time to stop placating me, if you were trying to figure out when."

As he said it, Harry had a sudden sense of just how much he'd insisted on being in charge and how much Ginny probably hated it. From his not wanting to even spend time with her at the start to his insistence that they focus on breaking the contract to the debacle with the mer-queen, he'd been calling the shots. Yes, Ginny had objected at times but at the end of the day, they'd done things Harry's way. And she'd let him because he'd apparently been that much of a prat. He flushed. "I'm sorry," he said, this time knowing exactly why he was apologizing.

Ginny waved him away. "I know. But thank you." She sighed. "I'll admit there was something easy about letting you make the decisions. I don't know what we're supposed to do next."

Harry suspected this was a big admission for her. "Me either," he admitted. "But . . . have you thought about it? His musings the previous morning at the Ministry came back to him. "I mean, what if it doesn't work? What if we can't break the contract? What do you want then?"

Ginny was silent for so long Harry thought he'd said something wrong. Another wave of exhaustion washed over him and the ennui he felt was stronger than his desire to prod. He let his head fall into his hand.

"I have no idea," she finally said. Ginny wasn't devastated at the thought of being alone forever the she'd been the first time they'd talked. If he had to name her emotion he say it was somewhere between resigned and almost empty. She looked at him. "I've gone over it in my head a dozen times and I just don't know." Her fingers tightened around her teacup, the knuckles turning white for a minute. "So I've stopped trying to figure it out." What about you? You'll keep trying anyway, won't you? To break the contract, even if it seems impossible." She spoke with a matter-of-fact calm Harry suspected was taking a lot of effort.

Harry wasn't about to tell Ginny that he'd tried to imagine what it would be like to have a girlfriend; that wasn't fair. And yet, blurting out his next idea, formed in the haze of that 2 a.m. training, seemed equally cruel. It could be just another failure, and yet Ginny would likely feel compelled to go along with him anyway.

"Maybe, I don't know." he admitted. "But yeah, it's going to be hard to admit if we can't break it." He grimaced. "I'm trying not to think about it either," he lied.

Ginny nodded. "So at least we both agreed we're likely fucked."

Despite Ginny's apparent certainty that they weren't going to be able to break the contract, Harry couldn't get mad at her. He was tired of ignoring that particular hippogriff in the room. Actually, he was just tired in general. "Yeah," he mumbled.

"Go home and get some sleep, Harry." Ginny spoke gently. "We aren't going to figure anything else right now." A hand closed on his for a moment, then withdrew. "But mind you, I'm not giving up completely. I think we just need a break."

"Me either," said Harry. He yawned. "About giving up." He stumbled to his feet.

"Once again, I feel the need to warn you to be careful in the Floo." GInny's voice held an undercurrent of amusement. "I don't know who your neighbors are."

Harry took the Floo powder she handed him." I'll remember," he promised before stepping into the flames. It was only when he'd clearly cried out Grimmauld Place and was whirling away to his home and bed that he remembered Mrs. Weasley's comment about Sirius and the blueberry pie. Too late now, but as scenes of wizarding homes rushed past Harry spared a single, sleepy thought to what might be awaiting him in the kitchen.