Wrap, turn, wrap, turn, wrap, turn…
The work was ten steps above boring, but Mum liked her yarn balls rolled just so. Ginny had yet to master that particular domestic spell, so she did it by hand. There was something a bit cathartic about the repetitive task. The fact that it made Mum so happy was a bonus, especially on Christmas night.
"Where's Harry?" George asked as he sat down next to her with a far too innocent grin. At least he was smiling again. He picked up his own pile of yarn and began to roll it up by hand. This was something of a tradition for the Weasley kids in the days following Christmas. Mum always used a lot of yarn to knit their gifts, and Dad always replenished her stock as part of his gift to her. In a way, Dad was really the one to blame for the awful color choices.
"At Grimmauld Place, where you should be. Why are you even here tonight?"
Wrap, turn, wrap, turn.
"To spend time with my favorite sister, of course."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "More like to suck up to Mum for two nights ago."
George's smile flickered. "A man can have many reasons."
Wrap, turn.
Actually, it was a good thing George was staying the night at the Burrow on Christmas. If she could not spend it with Harry (she frowned at that thought), she could at least solve a mystery that had been nagging at her. George had left with Hermione and Harry on that night, two nights ago. She knew he was upset with Ron. She also knew he had thrown a few stinging hexes before leaving. But, what both he and Harry were being tight-lipped about was why he returned. First, George shows up intending to pummel Ron into the ground. Then, she finds out the next day that Harry kicked Ron out of Grimmauld Place for good. Well, for a good long while at least. There was only one conclusion to draw: something else happened after the three of them left. Something they were hiding.
Ginny considered her words carefully. She stared at her current ball of yarn, but her eyes unfocused. Think. She had to trick George, which was no easy feat, but there was always a way.
"You know, Hermione's not nearly as mad as she should be."
George nodded.
Wrap, turn, wrap, turn.
"I mean, yeah, the betrayal of her privacy is a huge thing. But the rest?" She tutted. "I think I might've come back and raised hell myself."
He looked her over thoughtfully. "She told you?"
Ginny rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Well, she wasn't exactly in the right spirits for a fight," he said.
"Enter George to the rescue!"
Wrap. Turn.
"That's right." His eyes were dark—uncharacteristically so.
"What I don't get is why Harry was mad. I mean, I get why you were, and of course I get why Hermione was, but Harry?"
The work of a master, she thought. Vague enough, but specific, just how Fred and George had trained her themselves. Unlike some of her family, Ginny made it a point to think or talk about Fred every day. And here they were: Fred's hand guiding her to follow George's lead without actually following anything. It was the perfect bait.
"Well, he didn't exactly know she'd be there, now did he?" He looked at her almost annoyed.
"He didn't?" Ginny got the feeling "she" was not referencing Hermione.
"Of course not!"
"So she just showed up out of the blue?"
"No. Ron had invited her over."
"At night!?" Ginny shrieked, then recollected herself.
It was George's turn to roll his eyes. "For the night."
"Ohhh, right. Of course." Inside, she felt like she was about to explode. Ron had invited a girl to Grimmauld Place? Who was it? Someone from the Auror training program? Or someone he had met while traipsing in and out of the ministry? Some random whore he met in a pub?
No, that's not fair. She could not really blame the girl, whoever she was, and she certainly supported a woman's autonomy in choosing her own sexual partners.
That's when it hit her. She knew Harry inside and out, and if a strange woman showed up in his house, he would have taken a lot more action than just kicked Ron out. He may have even hexed her. That meant Harry knew this woman, which also meant she had been over before. Harry had to have been upset because Ron caused this huge scene when he had a girl waiting for him back home on that very same night.
Anger started to bubble up inside her. She gritted her teeth, all pretense of wrapping yarn abandoned.
"Well, he knew about the other nights," she said, then checked herself. She had not meant to speak that thought aloud.
George beside her was silent. His focus was entirely on his growing yarn ball.
Ginny turned to face him. Sometimes, George was a hard man to read, but other times—like tonight—his thoughts were painted on his face. His expression was at war. He had made his thoughts on Ron clear with a solid punch two nights ago. Most likely, he was now torn between being defensive of Harry and protective of Hermione.
Well, whatever his conflict was, it mattered little to Ginny. As steadily as she could manage, she asked, "Have there been others?"
"It's not really my—"
"George." There really was something powerful about her Mum-voice. "Have. There. Been. Others."
"I think just one. Over the summer. That's what it sounded like from Hermione at least. I didn't pry."
Ginny nodded. She rolled up her last bit of yarn and tossed it into the bin.
"I think I'll call it a night. See you in the morning."
George waved as she left the room. Then, she put on her happy face. She sought out her parents to kiss them both before heading up to bed. In the privacy of her room, her brooding began. Ron, of course, was going to get the worst of her anger. But, that would have to wait for a bit. Harry, however, could be more immediately addressed. Mum had her skills with chores and punishments, but Ginny had instead learned to be skilled in revenge.
A nice Bat Bogey hex was always satisfying, but that was better applied to Ron. Or, maybe the slug belching charm he had enjoyed in her first year. For Harry… now, that required finesse. She readied herself for bed, and, warm and cozy under her blankets, Ginny's mind whizzed and whirled as she plotted revenge on the love of her life.
"It's nice of you to spend some time with Hermione, dear. Give her our love." Mrs. Weasley patted her daughter's cheek and held out the pot of floo powder.
"Thanks, Mum," Ginny said with a sincere smile. "I'll make sure she's still okay."
Ginny tossed some floo powder into the fire and, with a quick shout of "Grimmauld Place kitchen," went spinning through grates. Even through the nausea of being hurled around in the ash and ether, her lips hardened to a resolute line. She landed, stepped from the grate, and laid eyes on Harry and Hermione. Harry looked forlorn. Hermione looked beyond miserable. Whatever had happened in the past day could not have been good.
"Harry James Potter," she began, ignoring the roar of the floo behind her. "Am I to understand that you've been covering for my idiot brother shagging at least two women behind our backs?"
"Oh shit." It was George, of course, following behind her. He let out a nervous whistle.
Harry's face paled in an instant.
"I wasn't— I didn't— It wasn't my story to tell!" Harry's voice was higher pitched than when he was eleven.
"Don't give me that royal sack of shite!" Ginny lashed out. "The second he started on Hermione about Ernie was your time to stand up and support her!"
"But I—"
"Hermione. Your friend who stood by you at every step. Researched for you nonstop. Translated entire freaking books for you. Supported you when you were being an idiot. Helped you no matter how much you pushed her away. That friend."
Harry withered. A twisted sense of satisfaction flooded Ginny as she saw Harry drop his eyes in shame. Yes. This was what he needed to feel.
"Now," she continued. "Tell me what happened to Hermione to make her look this miserable today. And I swear to Merlin, Harry, if you had any part in this…"
Harry let out a strangled little whine.
George had taken a seat at the table and was staying very still. Apparently, his approach was to treat her like an apex predator, which was reasonable but unnecessary. He had learned all this just the other night and immediately responded by trying to knock some sense into Ron. His head was clearly on straight.
"Would Master Weasley like some breakfast," Kreacher asked George, levitating a gigantic tray and two plates. "Kreacher has made Mistress and Master Malfoy's favorite."
Hermione choked on a strangled little sob.
The fire went out of Ginny. She moved to sit beside her friend, held her tight, and waited. She would let her tell her story in her own time. When Hermione spoke, Ginny's heart fell more with every word. When she got to the events of that morning, Ginny could not stop the many fierce scowls she sent in Harry's direction. His support of Hermione was abysmal at best.
As she alternated between picking at her second breakfast prepared by Kreacher and holding Hermione's hand, she offered all of the comfort and hopeful responses she could muster.
Then, Ginny asked Kreacher's help in preparing a lavender infused bath for Hermione. Unless she was mistaken, Hermione's first time was last night, making everything else that happened all the more harrowing for her. But, also meaning she might need some extra care for her body. At the same time, she made sure she found a different robe than the one strewn on her floor and fresh comfy clothes for Hermione to wear.
While her heartbroken friend soaked in the tub, she went downstairs to the kitchen where Harry still sat as if unsure what to do with himself. George had wisely left.
"Harry—" she began, but he cut her off.
"I know you're mad. I know I messed up. I'm sorry, I was just surprised by all this. And, you have to admit, it didn't look too good if you consider my point of view."
"Are you quite finished?" Ginny moved to lean against a counter but remained standing.
She was pleased at the way his eyes widened and his head jerked a little.
"I'll take that as a yes. Now, you listen to me Harry Potter, and you listen well. You have done something horrible to Hermione. You have broken her heart and possibly broken up her budding relationship. This may be a little bit of Draco's fault, but it is also ALL your fault."
"But-but—"
"Silencio," Ginny said calmly as she pointed her wand at Harry's throat. "If you don't want to also ruin thisrelationship, I suggest you accept this predicament you're in."
His throat bobbed.
"Ron slept with two women while you covered for him and pretended like you knew nothing about what he was doing. This would be fine, but at this same time he was claiming to want a relationship with Hermione. Did you yell at him? Did you question him? Did you do absolutely anything besides give him a few meaningful looks? Oh, yes," she said when she saw Harry's eyes widen. "I saw those looks. Hermione did too. You're not exactly subtle. Now answer my question."
Harry's lips moved, and Ginny smirked. He frowned, hung his head for a moment, then shook it.
"Yet Hermione, who has already shared her feelings for Draco, gets your permission to have him over, has a magical night—possibly her first time—with a man who truly cares about her. AND YOU QUESTION HER MOTIVES!?" She had not meant to yell, but she found she could not speak the words calmly. "She sacrificed her PARENTS, her entire LIFE for you. A thousand times more than Ron did! How could you? How COULD YOU do this to her!?"
Ginny steadied herself against the counter and closed her eyes. She needed Harry to feel the pain Hermione was in, but it was hard to separate herself and not feel it too.
"Listen," she said, when the pounding in her ears reduced, "what you're doing disgusts me. The double standards, the lack of trust, the lack of support for the most brilliant witch you'll ever meet, who has given everything to help you. And when she needed you, you cared more about helping a dumb boy get away with sleeping around. It's sickening, Harry. Ron is your friend, sure, but he's my brother. My blood. And I can see a mile away how wrong he's been. If you can't see the same, then we will never see eye-to-eye. Every single one of my brothers—his brothers—wants to tear him a new one. And you're here questioning Hermione."
She release her spell.
Harry must have felt it, because he tentatively opened his mouth. "I understand."
"You need to fix this. Not for you and me, but for Hermione. Can you imagine how devastated she must be? You fix this, Harry Potter."
"But, how?"
Medusa fucking help me, I'm going to turn this simpleton to stone.
"You're the savior of the wizarding world. You figure it out."
He gulped.
"Oh yeah," she said with a wicked grin. "I almost forgot, Hermione did most of that, too."
Thus began Harry Potter and the Twelve Days of Penance:
On the first day after Christmas, Harry followed Ginny into Hermione's room and cleaned everything so that when Hermione finished with her extra-long bath, all traces of Malfoy would be gone from her bedroom. Ginny was there to point Harry in the right direction with some of Hermione's more feminine possessions, but he willingly did all the work (without Kreacher's help).
On the second day after Christmas, Harry read with Hermione all day in the small library. He listened intently to every comment she made, asked questions about what she read, and really took in the intricate depths to which her mind went. It was on this day that Harry realized Malfoy was a far smarter man than he, himself, to be able to hold Hermione's attention and keep pace with her for so long.
On the third day after Christmas, Harry wrote a letter to Malfoy apologizing for his interference, explaining his mistaken assumptions, and admitting to his idiocy in questioning Hermione. This took him several sheets of paper and the better part of the morning to draft. He sent it off with George's owl, but it was returned undelivered. The owl seemed rather annoyed, and Harry wondered if the Malfoy wards refused admittance all owls or just his.
On the fourth day after Christmas, Harry visited the owl post to attempt to resend his letter. By evening, he was disappointed again when the post owl arrived at Grimmauld Place to return his letter. He had spent the day with Hermione in her room testing out different colors on the walls to freshen her atmosphere. By way of a break, he took her to lunch in a Muggle restaurant and bought her a new quilt for her bed.
On the fifth day after Christmas, Harry visited the Floo Network Authority office in the Ministry of Magic to inquire about urgent floo calls, and, when that failed, asked how one might get an urgent message to someone who was refusing owls. The poor ministry workers looked distraught to give disappointing news to the Savior of the Wizarding World, but nonetheless they did. He then joined Hermione in the library that evening for more reading.
On the sixth day after Christmas, Harry invited Ginny, George, and Angelina over for New Year's Eve. He delicately asked Hermione if she had heard from Malfoy, but she had not. He spent the time including her in every conversation so she would not feel like a fifth wheel. He had the distinct impression that he failed, but Ginny still kissed him something wonderful at midnight and rewarded him in other ways later.
On the seventh day after Christmas, Kreacher cooked so much food to celebrate New Year's Day, that Harry could not fit into his pants. He watched Hermione pick at her plate filled with all of her favorites. He tried to distract her so she might start eating by habit—she did not. He then tried to get her to start drinking, in hopes that the alcohol would demand food. Another failure.
On the eighth day after Christmas, Harry convinced Hermione to go to a Muggle bookstore followed by Flourish and Blotts. This took the whole of the day. Harry's main task was to keep his eyes peeled for a pale blond head, just in case. He need not have bothered. That evening, he had Kreacher test the Malfoy wards to see if he could still apparate into their manor home. Yet another failure, and a discovery that the Malfoys employ elf magic as part of their home warding.
On the ninth day after Christmas, Harry helped Hermione double-check all of her packing. Then, he went with her, Ginny, and Mrs. Weasley to drop them off at Platform Nine and Three-Quarters. He had a sad sense of déjà vu that brought him back to September first, and his sadness to not board the train returned. He hugged Hermione even tighter than he hugged Ginny before wishing her a wonderful term and promising to write to her often.
On the tenth day after Christmas, Monday, Harry had to return to work. Training at the Auror's office was grueling, but Harry was able to focus most of his attention on his tasks. Hermione was back at Hogwarts and back in classes. He could only hope that Malfoy would be talking to her already. He wrote her a letter on his lunch break and sent it by owl post.
On the eleventh day after Christmas, Harry had not yet heard back from Hermione. He wrote her another letter during breakfast and posted it on his way to work. He felt helpless that more than a week had passed, and this situation with Malfoy had not been resolved. He spent his breaks that day brainstorming what else he could do.
On the twelfth day after Christmas, Hermione wrote Harry back a short note. In it, she promised she was fine and would write him a longer letter later. Then, she asked him not to check in on her every day. As she rightly pointed out, she would not have the time to return so many correspondences and would feel pressured to reply before she was ready. Instead, Harry re-posted his letter to Malfoy at Hogwarts.
The letter was returned unopened.
Harry hung his head in his hands. When he recovered, he wrote an inquiry letter to a shop that sold Twinned Quills for himself and Ginny. He debated sending one to Hermione too, but the thought of either of them mixing up their two quills was enough to stay his hand. They had both seen enough of each other in compromising situations already. Belatedly, he realized that seeing another Twinned Quill before Malfoy pulled his head out of his arse might be difficult for her too.
Then, like the lightning that was scarred on his forehead, he was struck. The task before him was clear. He wrote a short note to Ron asking him to meet. They were no longer paired up in Auror training, so he had yet to see Ron for longer than a few seconds across the room while at work.
If he was unable to spend his time helping Hermione, he could instead start beating some sense into Ron.