Chapter Three
"Ginny!" exclaimed Mrs Burns, as Ginny stepped inside the shop. The elder woman enveloped Ginny in a tight hug.
"Hello Burns'," Ginny smiled, giving a small wave to Mr Burns. Mrs Burns and her husband were the owners of a small store in the village centre. They welcomed Ginny with warm hugs and adopted Ginny as their extra granddaughter.
"What are you doing here?" Mrs Burns asked, shuffling Ginny near the counter.
"Just here to visit. I miss it here," Ginny stated sadly. She loved living in London, it was what she always wanted when she was living here but London didn't seem to meet the expectation that Ginny had.
"No worries, dear. Are you staying long? Robert and I would love it if you stayed for dinner."
"No, I'll head off soon. Snuffles wants to go back," Ginny lied, knowing full well her dog hated London.
"Well, maybe next time."
Ginny and Mrs Burns chatted for a while, Mrs Burns filling Ginny to the brim with village gossip and Ginny telling her the excitement of London. As Ginny was about to leave, she turned to the elder couple who had been living here all their lives.
"Mrs Burns, do you happen to know who's living in the cottage now?" Ginny asked as she stood to leave. Mrs Burns furrowed her eyebrows.
"No one dear. It's been empty since you left."
"Oh, that's odd."
"Why dear?"
Ginny glanced up and paused, wondering if should tell Mrs Burns about that strange letter.
"Nothing to worry about," Ginny replied. Mrs Burns shook her head and smiled in a motherly way as she hug Ginny tightly.
"What about who'd lived there before me?" Ginny asked. Mrs Burns gasped in excitement and giggled loudly.
"That'll be James Evans, isn't that right, Robert?" asked Mrs Burns as she turned to Mr Burns. Mr Burns, who was silently reading his newspaper as they chatted.
"Yes, very nice young man," Mr Burns answered, not taking his eyes off the newspaper.
"Handsome too," Mrs Burns stated, "If only I were a few years younger."
Mrs Burns laughed loudly when Mr Burns glanced up from his newspaper. Ginny did not notice as the name Mrs Burns said echoed in her ears.
"James Evans?" Ginny whispered to herself. Taking a deep breath, Ginny said her goodbyes and left. She walked down the street, lost in thought, as she stared at the letter in her hand. Snuffles who shuffled alongside her, barked loudly to grab her attention. Ginny looked down at the panting dog, still gripping the parchment tightly in her hand. With questions still flying through her head, Ginny apparated without another word.
Landing roughly on the soft grass, Ginny wobbled slightly to regain her balance as she walked towards the mailbox in front go Il Mare. With a wave of her wand, Ginny conjured some parchment and a quill. Resting the parchment on the flat side of the mailbox, she scribbled her reply.
Ginny felt her heartbeat wildly as she placed the letter in the mailbox. After all that happen in her second year at Hogwarts, Ginny thought she was crazy for replying. But something in her felt at ease, though it was mostly counteracted by the trauma she felt a long time ago. Without another word, she apparated back to her flat in London.
As she made herself a strong cup of tea, Ginny wondered if she would ever go back to see if there was any reply. The fear of history repeating itself make her heart pound fiercely. Ginny raised the steaming tea to her lips, not realising her hands her shaking slightly. The hot liquid soothed her as she sipped it.
Taking a deep breath, Ginny sank onto her couch, resting her head back. Snuffles who notice Ginny's distress jumped up next to her and rest his head on her lap. She ran her fingers through Snuffles' soft fur, calming herself into a dreamless sleep.
By the time Ginny awoke, there was a loud thumping on the front door and the sky had turned dark.
"Ginny! It's me, Ron," called her brother, whilst knocking on her door. Ginny wiped the sleep from her eyes and waved her wand to unlock the door.
"It's open," she shouted back. Ron shuffled into her apartment, shaking the rain from his hair. Snuffles panted towards him and barked at him, as though to lecture Ron about the mess he was creating.
"I know, I know," mumbled Ron to the dog and cast a cleaning spell. Ginny gave a lock to her closest brother before kissing him on his cheek.
"Hey," Ginny greeted, turning on the lights in the hallway, "Wasn't expecting you."
"Yeah, Mum wanted me to drop by to give you some Shepard's pie," Ron replied as he gave the casserole pan to Ginny.
"Getting you to check up on me, huh?" Ginny said amusingly, walking to the kitchen. Ron looked away embarrassingly and nodded, following Ginny further into the flat.
"She's been a bit worried for you since you broke up with Dean."
"Well, tell her I'm fine," Ginny assured, reaching for a fork. The pie was still warm and She hadn't eaten since breakfast.
"Like she'll believe that," joked Ron, "She wants me to write a ten-inch summary of your life."
"Mum should have sent Hermione for that. How is your wife-to-be anyway?"
"Busy as always," Ron said with a sign go happiness.
"Still shocked she agreed to marry you," smiled Ginny. Ron shot Ginny a glare and gave her a good elbow in the ribs.
Ron and Hermione were an interesting story. They met at Hogwarts, as so many people do. They were in the same year and house but never got along. They were infamous throughout their Hogwarts years, known for their bickering and constant arguing. It was so bad that it was a surprise when they were selected as prefects together. Almost all the prefects including the Head Girl and Head Boy protested against the pairing to McGonagall. It wasn't until Ernie Macmillan and Hannah Abbott caught Ron and Hermione snogging in a broom closet that made the whole Hogwarts gossip chain implode. That was ten years ago and they have been together ever since.
"Well, she'd be less busy, if my sister would show up to wedding planning nights at the Burrow."
"And suffer a whole night with my mother nagging me to get married to the next wizard I meet. No thank you."
Ginny shoved more Shepard's pie in her mouth, her mother's cooking was incredible but to endure hours of nagging just for food seemed a bit too much.
Ron glanced at the pile of papers on Ginny's kitchen bench. There were newspapers and some old letters from friends, but what caught his eyes was today's Daily Prophet. On the front page, was an old picture of Albus Dumbledore, the previous headmaster of Hogwarts, beside him was Harry Potter, the boy who lived.
The picture was taken many years ago when rumours about Voldemort had surfaced. The Ministry denied all the suspicion and blamed Harry Potter for being an attention-seeking teenager. However, the rumours were true when Voldemort broke into the Ministry of Magic revealing his immortality. Ginny remembered the day when the news broke in the morning at Hogwarts. It was pure chaos and fear, that night had confirmed that You-Know-Who had finally returned.
"Still milking about Harry Potter," stated Ron, "When are they going to give the man some peace, huh?"
"It's that time of year again," Ginny replied, "It's the anniversary of the start of the war. There's a lot of buzz at work about it."
"Even for a sports writer?"
Ginny shrugged, "Blake is giving me a chance of writing something other than game updates or player scandals. So, I'm writing about how the war has changed the style of flying in Quidditch, and how that reflects in games nowadays."
"Wow, sounds good. I didn't know that flying has changed," Ron said in a slightly surprised voice. Ginny immediately dived into all the research that she had gathered over the past few weeks. She had always relied on Ron to cheer her up. After her second year, it was Ron who helped her. He always seem to know how to take her mind off the things that had happened.
That night, after Ron had left, there were no thoughts of the mysterious letter that Ginny found nor of her reply. But as Ginny slept that night, her fears flood through and she dreamt of something sinister that manipulated her through letters from her old home. So much of it reminded her of her second year, that it made her feel as though she was reliving it.
Harry wiped the sweat off his brow. He was currently fixing the garden, hacking away at the overgrown grass. Harry had already cleaned and repaired everything about the house. It was now a beautiful and comfortable home. The outside, however, was a different story, the garden was so overgrown that Harry was surprised that there were no garden gnomes living in this forest of grass.
Giving himself a break, Harry planted himself on the porch steps of his cottage, glancing at the wonderful view of the sea. The dog, that had left his mark on the cottage porch, was sitting on his artwork, panting away, occasionally barking at Harry. Since the mongrel had ran onto Harry's life, the damned dog didn't seem to want to leave, but Harry didn't mind the company, it was nice to have someone to talk to.
As Harry admired the view, his attention rested on the mailbox. He thought of the letter that he had written a few days ago. Harry had sent the letter by the muggle postage hoping that the letter had reached its intended recipient. But something felt wrong in Harry's gut, the date left by Ginny Weasley was all too strange. How could some be two years in the future?
With some ample curiosity and annoyance that this had taken space in his mind, Harry stomped to the mailbox. He didn't know why, but it felt as though it was something he ought to do. He check inside, knowing that there should be anything inside, but there was.
Cautiously, Harry reached inside. It was a little note, hastily written and shoved inside the mailbox.
Dear Mr Evans,
I am unsure how my letter got to you but I hope you are not playing games with me. I've lived in Il Mare cottage for a year and now I have since moved. Please continue to forward my mail if any accidentally come to you.
Sincerely,
Ginny Weasley
5 Oct 1999
"P.S. I really hope you're not from 1997," Harry muttered out loud. Many thoughts rushed through Harry's mind as he read the letter. There was no envelope nor postage stamp. It couldn't have arrived by an owl as Harry would have noticed if any post owl came by. Harry's thumb brushed on the date at the bottom.
Rushing into the house, Harry immediately reached for some pen and paper. Writing his reply hastily, he ran back to the mailbox and placed it inside.
Harry stared at the mailbox before glancing up to look at his dog, who was no longer lying on the porch floor. The dog perk up and barked at Harry, as though to approve of Harry's decision.
"I'm going mad…"
A/N: Hi, thank you to everyone who left a review last chapter :) So far the story is going a little slow but hopefully, it will pick up in the next chapter. I'm not sure if I'll keep all the scenes from the movies or I might mix them around to fit this world or even change some struff. Let me know what you think and see you next time.
Mockthename