A/N: Well, this one wasn't nearly as tough as the last one. Um, I know the last chapter seemed a bit convenient, but I figure it was either that, or leave her with Justin and being the fan of H/G that I am, I just couldn't do it. Someone mentioned that they wanted to see more Harry. Well, he's definitely present here. I'll probably end up going back and forth between him and Ginny, at least for a little while, mainly because I feel like Ginny's been pretty neglected in this story (except for Chapter Eight), considering she's a major part of the plot. Oh, and I had to kick the rating up a bit, as it got a little more adult in this chapter. Anyway, thank you for all of the reviews I've gotten. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: See Chapter One.
"Time to get up Gin!"
Ginny snapped her eyes open, looking around her, slightly disoriented. But her confusion melted away as she looked up into a pair of very familiar green eyes. She smiled slightly as she yawned. "Hmm, morning Harry."
"I do believe congratulations are in order."
She squinted up into the morning light, fixing him with a perplexed look. "And why is that?"
"Because," he said, a wide smile on his face, "I do believe it's your birthday today."
"Ugh," she groaned, turning away from him. "Don't remind me." He gently reached over her and pulled her back to face him, which she did unresistingly. She looked up at him and laughed. "Now why did you have to go and do that? I was having a very pleasant dream-about life before you, of course-and then you have to go and wake me up and remind me that I'm a year older today."
He just grinned down at her, before placing a kiss on her forehead. "What on earth are you talking about Gin? You know perfectly well that there was no life before me." In response, she reached behind her and grabbed a pillow, which she hit him over the head with.
"Hey!" he exclaimed, as she giggled at the expression on his face.
"Oh, so the world revolves around you now, Mr. Potter?" she asked, mock indignation in her voice.
He laughed, quickly pinning her to the bed under his weight. "Hasn't it always, Mrs. Potter?" he asked suggestively. Before even giving her a chance to answer, he bent down and kissed her full on the lips.
"Oh," she said when they broke the kiss, "so you are aware of how I like to be woken up in the morning."
"I'm intimately aware of it," he responded, his voice full of desire.
"Hmm, then maybe you'd better get back to waking me up then," she said, a suggestive smile on her face.
"Yes ma'am!" he replied.
Without another word, he kissed her again. Just as things were progressing to their natural outcome, they were interrupted by the sound of a loud bang, followed by children screaming. They looked up at each other, knowing that their quality time would have to wait. Ginny sighed. "I suppose we'd better go find out what's wrong," she said, unable to keep the disappointment out of her voice.
"Yeah," Harry sighed, also unable to hide his disappointment. "What if we just ignored it for now?"
Ginny laughed, kissing her husband quickly before getting up. "If we did that, those two would kill each other, and you know it. Now get up and get dressed while I go see what's wrong this time."
He groaned in response, but also got up. They didn't get much farther as the door to their room burst open and a small boy with flame red hair and bright green eyes came rushing in. "Muuum!" he cried, as he ran to Ginny and latched himself onto her leg.
Ginny bent down to look into her son's face. "What is it Andy?" she asked gently.
He looked at her, his eyes filled with tears and his lip trembling. "K-Kerena said she wa-was gonna get s-some o-of Unca Fred and Unca George's to-tongue toffees and u-use 'em on me," he managed to say, in between his tears.
Ginny let out a long sigh and looked over at her husband, who looked very much like he was trying not to laugh. She shot him a look, but was fighting to keep a smile off of her own face. She turned back to her son. "Oh Andy, honey, she wouldn't do that. She's just teasing you. You shouldn't let her upset you. She only does it because she knows she'll get a reaction out of you." She wrapped him in a hug and silently communicated to Harry to go get their daughter. He left the room, and Ginny set herself to wiping the tears from Andrew's eyes. She smiled encouragingly at him once his tears were gone and his nose had been wiped, and he gave her a thankful smile that reminded her of Harry.
A moment later, Harry walked back in with a young girl who was slightly older than her brother. She had dark hair that was almost black and mischievous brown eyes. At the moment, she appeared solemn, her head held high, and her face was the picture of innocence. "Good morning Mum," she said, as though the entire family was sitting around the breakfast table and she wasn't about to be lectured.
Ginny sighed as she looked down on her daughter. "Kerena, have you been scaring Andrew again?"
Kerena looked surprised at the question. "What do you mean Mum?"
"I think you know what I mean." Ginny saw the girl flinch slightly at the tone of voice she had used.
"Really Mum, it's not my fault that Andy can't take a little joke." The girl looked wounded that her mother could have suggested that she had caused her brother's tears.
"Kerena Catherine Potter, you know very well how I feel about threatening to use your Uncles' pranks on your brother."
"But Dad told me 'bout how Uncle Fred and Uncle George used 'em on his cousin that one time," Kerena said, her eyes bright with glee. "He told me the whole story and I thought it was really funny, so I told it to Andy and then he got all scared and came running to you."
Ginny looked up to glare at her husband, who looked like he was trying to be invisible. "Harry, why would you go and tell her that!" she scolded.
Harry looked abashed. "Well, she asked for a 'funny bedtime story' and it was the first thing that popped into my head." She rolled her eyes at him and they both knew that this conversation was far from over. Ginny looked back down at her daughter, who looked distinctly interested what had just transpired between her parents. "Now Kerena," Ginny admonished, "you shouldn't antagonize your brother like that. You knew he would be scared by a story like that. If I hear about you scaring him one more time, you'll spend the rest of the afternoon in your room. Understand?"
"Yes Mum," the girl replied rather sullenly.
"Alright," Ginny said, eyeing the two of her children. "Both of you go to your rooms and get dressed for breakfast. Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione are coming over today." The two faces lit up and they both ran out of the room, excited at the prospect of seeing their Aunt and Uncle and their cousins. Once they were gone, Ginny rounded on Harry. "And you! Telling her that story." Harry winced at her tone, but she wasn't done yet. "You and I both know that that one is almost as bad as Fred and George. Why would you go and tell her a story like that?"
"Well she asked and I couldn't think of anything else to tell her," Harry said a tad defensively. "How was I to know she'd go and torment Andy with it?"
"Because she always does." Ginny looked at Harry and sighed, unable to keep a smile off her face at his wounded expression. "What am I going to do with you?"
Harry perked up a bit at her tone of voice and moved over to her, hugging her. "Well," he began, pulling away little so he could look down at her, "I have been naughty."
Ginny got a grin her on her face that she knew was rather mischievous. "Yes, you have been that. I suppose I'll have to do something about it."
"When?" he asked, unable to keep the excitement out of his eyes.
"Later." She laughed when she noticed the mock-hurt expression on his face. "Well, I would do something about it now, but Ron and Hermione will be here any minute."
Harry had his own mischievous grin on his face as he started to kiss her neck and rub his hands up and down her back. "When has that ever stopped us?"
Ginny laughed a rather throaty laugh, then answered with, "that's true. Think we have time?" she asked, a little breathlessly as Harry's hands had found a rather sensitive spot.
"Oh definitely," he murmured, right before kissing her passionately. Without breaking the kiss, Harry picked her up and lay her down on the bed, positioning himself on top of her. Things were starting to heat up when, through her haze of pleasure, she heard the chimes that signaled someone was at the door. She broke away from Harry and looked up at him, trying to rein in her hormones. "They're here," she gasped. They quickly got up and started rushing around, shooting each other looks of longing while getting ready.
They were almost presentable when Harry turned to Ginny, his face one of triumph at having come up with an idea. "Gin," he said, "how about we convince Ron and Hermione to take the kids so that you and I can spend the day together?"
She looked over at him as she was touching her wand to her hair. "Sounds like a good idea to me," she answered a grin on her face. He grinned back and then the two of them headed to the bedroom door.
***
There was a colored mist in front of her, and she didn't know where she was. Suddenly there came a voice that seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere at the same time. "Virginia Weasley," it sang to her, echoing all around and within her.
She looked hesitantly around, trying to find the source of the voice. "Yes?" she replied, a bit timidly.
"You are the Turner," the voice sang in response.
Ginny could hardly believe her ears. "What?" she asked, disbelieving.
You are the Turner the prophecy speaks of," the voice answered.
***
And Ginny Weasley bolted up in bed, covered in sweat, every detail of the dream permanently etched in her brain. I'm the Turner?! How is that possible? It was completely unbelievable. Ginny was working at rationalizing the whole thing. A product of wishful thinking and too much research . . . particularly that first bit. I really need to take a break. She had herself convinced until she looked over to her right and saw it. There was a book there that had not been there before. On the cover were the words: Turning for Turners. It just couldn't be true. If she were the Turner, then that meant that she and Harry . . . . Well the prophecy never specified what joining meant. It could just be that we have to work together . . . but that dream was so real . . . .
She lay back down, all the elements coming together. I'm the Turner. It was too much to process at one time. She fell into a dreamless sleep.
***
This is incredibly stupid, isn't it? He really couldn't believe that he was going to do it. Sure, he had wanted to give Ginny something nice for her birthday, so he had searched Hogsmeade at the last Hogsmeade weekend. He hadn't found anything that he felt comfortable giving her. It was just the other day--as he had been going through his trunk to find a Quidditch book--that he had found what he wanted to give her.
He had looked through them and selected the best one and had re-written it so as to make it a little neater. The 'it' was one of the poems he had written to her, but he hadn't been brave enough to sign them because of her relationship with Justin. Still, he hoped she would appreciate it.
So that was why he was pacing in the common room at two in the morning, under his Invisibility Cloak. He stopped suddenly and looked at the door that led to the girls' dormitory. Squaring his shoulders, he walked over to the door, opened it, and walked through it. He climbed up the stairs, trepidation slowing his steps, until he saw the door that led to the room for the sixth year girls. He quietly opened it, thankful that it didn't squeak, and tiptoed in. He checked three of the beds before he found hers. Slowly, deliberately, he parted the curtains just enough to look through the crack. She was sleeping peacefully, a book next to her on the bed. She was obviously asleep, her breathing slow and steady. He glanced around and saw that he was the only conscious one in the room, and then he pulled the curtains open a little further. It was then that he saw the book had words on it. Turning for Turners, it said.
He gasped quietly, not quite believing what his eyes told him. She's the Turner! He'd known it ever since they had started researching the prophecy, but to have it confirmed like this was startling. But the proof was undeniable, and his instincts confirmed it for him. He couldn't help the wry smile that graced his countenance. Wait'll Ron hears about this. He'll flip. Harry wanted badly to chuckle at the mental image of Ron finding out that Ginny-his little sister, the one he was so protective of-was a witch of incredible abilities and with an extremely rare gift. And the love of my life. The thought was there and he couldn't take it back now. Yes, he loved Ginny Weasley. His smile disappeared as he imagined what Ron might say about that.
He forced his thoughts away from that unpleasant prospect. The fact that Ginny was the Turner just strengthened his resolve to do what he had come here to do. He dropped the piece of parchment he was carrying onto her bed and, before he could rethink his decision, he bolted for the door, and practically ran down the room until he was safe back in the common room. What was done was done, and Harry fervently hoped that he'd done the right thing.
***
Morning came all too quickly for Ginny, as she was somewhat unsure what she was going to do. Sure, it was her birthday and she would probably hang out with Ron, Hermione and Harry, but she just didn't know what she was going to do. They still didn't know that she hadn't broken up with Justin, nor did they know that she was the Turner. She put off getting up as long as she could, which was actually quite long considering it was a Saturday. But, all too soon, she had to get up and face the music. She sat up and looked back at the book that was lying on her bed. She picked it up to hide it under her pillow when she noticed a sheet of parchment that hadn't been there before. She wondered what kind of surprises this held for her, as if she could handle another surprise today after the bombshell that had been dropped on her earlier.
With more than a little trepidation, she unrolled the piece of parchment. As she scanned it, her eyes nearly popped out of her head. It was a love poem. For her. She re-read it.
Hair of fire
For you, I desire.
Skin of cream
Of you, I dream.
Eyes of brown,
My sorrows drown'd.
Goddess, please smile for me
That glow I love and'd die to see.
Gentle soul, heal my wounds.
Only you can dispel the gloom.
My dear Gin,
Here is my heart.
My penance for my sins
Never enough, but perhaps a start.
Her heart sank as she realized it must be from Justin. She'd been afraid that he'd try to win her back, and it was such a lovely poem too. But she just didn't feel that way about him. Just what was she going to do?
She put the piece of parchment aside and started getting dressed, though she was preoccupied. There was so much to think about. It was her sixteenth birthday, and not only had she just found out that she was a witch with extremely rare powers, but her ex-boyfriend-whom she'd just broken up with-was trying to win her back. And, to top it all off, the boy she'd always dreamed about would probably never see her as more than a friend and the little sister he never had. It was enough to make her head spin and she seriously considered getting back into bed to escape from her troubles. She sighed, realizing it would be an exercise in futility. Someone would just come up here and wake her up, and eventually she'd have to face all the changes that had occurred in the short space of a day.
Looking in the mirror, she checked to make sure she looked presentable, then she squared her shoulders and headed down to the common room.
***
Harry had been the first one up, unable to sleep after he had left the poem on Ginny's bed. How would she react? Would she even know he'd written it, or would she think that someone else had? He was pacing and Hermione and Ron were sending each other looks of puzzlement, but he really didn't care. He was incredibly nervous, and the only thing that seemed to help was to keep moving. As a result, he moved around the common room like a caged animal, but his thoughts were still on Ginny and what she would think of his gift to her.
The door to the girls' dorm opened and Harry stopped pacing, knowing that it would be Ginny who would walk through that door. He watched her as she came into the room and greeted them all. She looked preoccupied, though she put on a good face for everyone in the room. When she said hi to him, she didn't look at him any differently than she normally did, which made him believe that she had either not seen the poem, or she didn't think he had written it. He wasn't exactly sure how to take that. He decided, for the moment, to try and forget about the whole situation.
The four of them walked down to the Great Hall and Harry had noticed that Ginny seemed a little more quiet than usual. He figured this was perfectly normal. After all, the girl had just found out she was the Turner. That could throw anybody for a curve. He resolved himself to be there for her, should she need anyone to help her.
***
Breakfast passed in a daze for Ginny. The only memories she had of it later was everyone had the Gryffindor table singing "Happy Birthday," and the odd looks she was getting from Harry. He kept looking at her as if he expected her to break down in tears or to go off like a bomb. It was almost as if he knew that she were the Turner. But that wasn't possible. There was no way he could. He's just worried because I've been preoccupied.
It was while they were walking out of the Great Hall that Ginny remembered the poem, and then it all fell into place so quickly that she halted in her tracks as she thought it out. Harry wrote it. He must have brought it earlier this morning, then saw the book and knew I was the Turner. He's worried because he's probably curious to know what I thought of his poem. If that were true then . . . Harry likes me! Oh. Great. Stars. I don't believe it! He really likes me!
Distantly, she heard a voice calling her name, and her eyes focused. She saw Ron, Hermione, and Harry staring at her, worried looks on their faces. Ron had been calling her name, trying to get her attention. She focused as best she could on him, but she was still in a daze from her revelation. "Hmm?" she asked him.
"Are you okay Gin? You spaced out there for a sec, and you've been awfully quiet this morning."
"Hmm, yeah, I'm fine. Just a little preoccupied, is all." This caused Ron and Hermione to look even more puzzled, but the understanding look on Harry's face just confirmed everything for her. She had to figure out a way to talk to him alone, to discern if her theory was correct. She started walking with the others, and noticed out of the corner of her eye that Harry kept shooting looks at her. It just seemed to be more proof that she was correct.
An idea hit her, as she remembered that this was a Hogsmeade weekend. She cleared her throat. "So, Ron, Hermione, are you two going to Hogsmeade today?" she asked casually.
"Well," Ron answered as he looked over at his girlfriend, "did you want to go Hermione?"
Hermione looked closely at Ginny, and Ginny tried to communicate with her eyes that she wanted to be alone with Harry. Hermione seemed to understand. "Yeah Ron, I'd like to go."
Ron nodded and smiled at her. "Ok then." He hesitated for a second. "Are you sure you don't want us to stay here. It's your birthday after all."
"No," she replied, hoping she hadn't seemed too anxious to get rid of them. "It's ok. I have some work I have to do today anyway."
"Yeah Ron," Hermione added. "Besides, you and I haven't had some . . . quality time lately."
Ron got a goofy grin on his face, and nodded his acquiescence.
Yes! Thank you Hermione! "What about you Harry?" she asked, turning to look at him. Please say no, please say no.
"Uh, well," he began, obvious fighting a war with himself, "I have some work to do too." He looked over at Hermione. "I'm going to do some more studying for the NEWT's." She nodded, trying hard not to appear too pleased.
Hermione must know what's going on, Ginny thought. Wow. Nothing gets past her.
They arrived in front of the portrait of the Fat Lady and gave the password to get in.
***
Ten minutes later, Ron and Hermione had set off for Hogsmeade, along
with most of the Gryffindors who were third year and older. In fact, Ginny
and Harry were the only Gryffindors older than 12 not in Hogsmeade. She
ran up to her dorm to grab the poem, planning how she was going to bring
the subject up. In the end, she decided to just play it by ear.
She arrived back down in the common room to find it devoid of life save
for Harry, who was sitting on one of the couches with some work spread around
him. Ginny thanked everyone she could think of that there was no one there
to witness what she was about to do. She moved towards him and sat in a
chair next to the couch. He looked up at her and smiled, which she returned
before turning back to the parchment in her hand.
Ok, Ginny, this is it. Show time. She let out a rather melodramatic sigh, then looked out the window forlornly. Come on Harry, this is your cue.
"Something the matter, Gin?"
Here goes nothing. "Hmm?" she turned to look at him, and then sighed, a wry smile on his face. "Oh, it's just this poem I got this morning."
"Poem?" To anybody else, his expression was one of polite curiosity, but Ginny wasn't fooled for a second. She could tell he was a little nervous about what she was going to say. She took that as a good sign and kept going.
"Yeah," she replied, unable to keep the smile off of her face. "I really wish I knew who wrote it. It's a really lovely love poem."
"Oh? Must be from Justin then." He turned to look down at his work, but she could see that he wasn't really looking at it. After all, Divination isn't that interesting.
You can't fool me, Harry Potter. "I thought that at first," she conceded, "but it's just not his style, especially since we broke up yesterday."
She noted with satisfaction that his head snapped up at her last comment, but he tried to play it cool. It just made her grin to herself. He was so cute when he tried to act nonchalant. "Hmm," he said, apparently thinking. "Do you have any idea who wrote it then?"
She sighed again, and stood up. "Well, yes and no," she replied. She walked over to the window and was glad that Harry finally abandoned any pretense of trying to do work, standing up himself and walking closer to her.
"What do you mean, 'yes and no?'" he asked her. Obviously the suspense was getting to him.
Her back was to him, so he couldn't have seen the mischievous smile that flitted across her face before she adopted a look of contemplation. "Well," she began, turning around to face him, "I have some ideas."
His look of control was beginning to crack, and her heart went out to him, even as she continued to make him suffer. "Yeah, I was thinking that it could be Colin or Terry or Neville." She was quiet for a moment as she watched him fighting with himself. Obviously he wanted to tell her he had written it, but he was afraid of what she would say. If only he knew I'd tell him that I felt the same. She wanted him to know, so she was going to give him an opening. "Well," she said out loud, "even if it were any of them, I would be flattered, sure, but it wouldn't change my mind."
"Change your mind about what?" He was really nervous, but he was still here. Ginny pressed on.
"That I don't like any of them in that way."
"Oh? You still like Justin then?"
Ginny wanted to laugh and throw her arms around him, but she didn't. She just looked at him. "I wouldn't have broken up with him if I liked him that way."
"Hmmm," was all he said, but Ginny could tell that he was hopeful. Well, no time like the present.
Her facial expression changed to one of surprise and disbelief. "Harry?"
He looked at her. "Yes?"
"You didn't write this, did you?"
"What?" he asked, so surprised that he took a step back.
She stepped toward him. "It's just that I can't think of anybody who would have written this."
He started inching his way backwards, as if trying to escape. "What makes you think I did?"
"Oh, just a thought," she said, matching his progress backward with steps forward.
Before he could say another word his back was against the wall, and she could tell he wanted desperately to run. But he stayed put, and quietly asked her, "what would you say if I told you I had written it?"
She moved until she was just inches from him, and then looked up at him,
her face serious. "I would say 'thank you' and then I would tell you
that I'm so glad you're the one who wrote it because I've always liked you
Harry," she replied, just as quietly.
He looked down at her. "I wrote it Gin. I wrote it a few weeks ago,
and it was the best birthday present I could find."
"Thank you Harry. I'm so glad you feel the same about me that I feel about you. I've always liked you Harry."
***
He could hardly believe it. She likes me! It seemed so simple now. He knew what he had to do-what he wanted to do. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her to him, then leaned down and planted a soft kiss against her lips.
His mind exploded with a whirlwind of thoughts. I can't believe it! She likes me too! This feels so good, so right. I can't believe this is actually happening! This is just-
"WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON IN HERE!"
And that was Ron. Oh shit.