There's Something About Harry

Chapter Three

A Harry Potter Fanfic by Aira

Disclaimer: It's all J.K. Rowling's.

***

Ginny's mind spun in spirals of thought without any particular focus. She just couldn't believe that Charlie was really dead. She wanted so terribly to be able to believe that this was all a cruel joke, that he was coming back and would ask what all the fuss was about. But after he'd gone missing three weeks, the Weasleys were forced to admit that the odds of him coming home again, ever, were slim at absolute best. And here she was now, at his funeral listening to a wizarding pastor speak to the gathered crowd.

She waited to burst out into tears, to do something other than stand in this stunned silence. But Ginny had no more tears left in her. So she simply watched the empty coffin being lowered into the ground, with the same blank expression she'd worn for three weeks.

Ginny became vaguely aware that her father, with tears streaming down his face, was speaking now about the sort of person Charlie was and what he had done. Next to him stood her mother, sobbing as she had for the whole of the service. All more the reason for you not to lose it, Ginny reminded herself. You're needed.

Yet it was hard to feel needed when memories kept playing in her mind like a Muggle movie. One incident in particular stood out.

"MUM!" Ginny shrieked from inside the closet which Fred and George had locked her in. "Help!"

Suddenly Ginny, then seven years old, found herself outside the closet. She grinned to herself. She must have accidentally used magic to get herself out. That would teach the twins to watch their backs. Suddenly her brother Charlie, who was home from his job in Romania, came rushing towards her. "Gin! You were screaming bloody murder, what happened?" With sudden understanding, he said, "Ah. Fred and George locked you inside the closet again?"

"Yes. But I magicked myself out," Ginny said proudly.

"That's my girl. Now, what charm should I use for punishment, eh? A Hiccupping Hex, perhaps? Or maybe you think that their hair would look lovely blue?"

Ginny giggled. "Thanks, Charlie."

"Any time, kid. Any time."

Ginny let out a small choke. There were so many things that would never be quite the same without Charlie. There were so many memories that would never be made. Voldemort, Ginny swore quietly. Someday I will make you pay for all that you've done to my family.

*

The month that followed seemed like a blur of images and voices to Ginny. She and Ron returned to Hogwarts the week following the funeral and were met with fellow students expressing sympathy. But Ginny didn't want empty words of condolences. She simply wanted to be left alone.

One day while studying in solitude, that queasy feeling of being watched came over her. Ginny looked up; it was Harry.

He blushed furiously, then opened his mouth as if to speak. No sound came out. Ginny hid her amusement; it was rather comforting to see someone else act that way. "So, where're Ron and Hermione, or don't I want to know?" she asked abruptly.

"You-probably don't want to know," Harry stammered, clearly still feeling embarrassed.

"So.how are you?" he asked after a few minutes of awkward silence.

Ginny opened her mouth to say "I'm fine", and then tried to think of a time when she'd been less fine. Only her first year came close. "I-I'm still breathing," she managed to get out.

Unfortunately what she had begun to classify as a "Charlie Memory" began to surface without warning, and unshed tears burned in her eyes. Oh, please don't let Harry see you acting like a baby, she prayed.

He apparently did notice her predicament; he seemed almost terrified. But then Harry did something that shocked her. While he still appeared as being hopelessly awkward, he sat down next to her and clumsily wrapped an arm around her. "It's all right," he murmured.

And, for the first time since Charlie disappeared, Ginny truly allowed herself to cry.

*

The following day, Harry climbed into the portrait hole, and was met with the sound of music that seemed almost too beautiful for words. It appeared to be coming from some sort of violin. He frowned thoughtfully. Who in Gryffindor played the violin?

Soon he was met with his answer: Ginny Weasley. She appeared to be intently concentrated on the music, not even noticing his arrival. He watched curiously as the fingers on her left hand danced across the strings while her right hand controlled the bow with professional ease.

After finishing the piece with a flourish, Ginny looked up, apparently surprised she had an audience. Harry felt his face grow hot. "Oh, hi, Harry," she said.

"Ron and Hermione are on one of their supposed study sessions." Somehow Harry felt compelled to explain his presence. "I-I didn't know you played the violin," he blurted.

"There's a lot you don't know about me."

Behind her even tone was.wistfulness? Desire? Harry immediately halted those thoughts. She was merely making conversation. And even if Harry couldn't allow himself to confess his feelings for her, he sure could talk to Ginny.

*

"So, what's between you and Harry Potter?" demanded one of Ginny's roommates, Meryll.

"I don't know what you mean," she responded coolly. Being a Weasley, Ginny had experience with far more difficult interrogators.

"Well, it's obvious you two have something going on."

"Oh, so are witches not allowed to be friends with wizards, now?"

"You certainly looked like more than friends yesterday, when you were sitting together and he had his arm around you!" Meryll spat.

Ginny ignored this; she had long since learned that Meryll was far past reason when she used that tone of voice. Besides, she really didn't have any defense prepared.

"Amazing what having brothers who are best friends with Harry Potter can do," the other girl muttered, clearly distraught. "Can't get a boyfriend on your own, now can you, Ginny? Or did you use one of those Love Charms"

Ginny had had enough. The day had already been hopelessly long, and here she was being accused of seducing Harry Potter with a Love Charm. "That's right," she shot back, hardly aware of what she was saying. "Harry Potter is my boyfriend. Now if you'll excuse me, I must go snog him senseless."

Ginny stormed out of the dorm in shock. What had made her do something so outrageous? And what was she going to say to Harry?

*

"Harry-can I-talk to you for a moment in-private?" Ginny stammered at breakfast the next morning, heart pounding.

"I guess."

Hermione, with whom Ginny had already discussed this, then said a spell that caused a Soundproof Bubble to form around Ginny and Harry. "I'm so sorry, Harry," Ginny blurted. "But last night, Meryll-my roommate, you know-started asking all these questions about, well, us, and she sounded so hateful. I don't know what possessed me but I just got so mad and I-I accidentally said something about us being, you know-together."

Ginny watched him anxiously. Harry's expression turned from blank to puzzled to-finally-incredulous. "How could you? That girl probably has it all around Gryffindor by now! Don't you realize what-what sorts of things can come from those kinds of rumors flying round?!"

Ginny tried not to wince at his harsh words. "I-I'm so sorry."

"Not as sorry as I am," Harry muttered.

"Well, most people will probably write it off as gossip anyway," she ventured.

"I can only hope," he said darkly.

"Well, since we've nothing more to discuss, I'll take down the Soundproof Bubble," she said coldly, raising her wand.

"Ginny," he whispered almost desperately, motioning for her not to take down the bubble. "I didn't mean to come off like that."

Part of her wanted to say something of a forgiving nature, and forget that his rashly cruel words had ever been spoken. But her pride wouldn't allow her to. "No. You-you've made your point more than clear, Harry Potter."

*

"Ron. I.need help."

"With that?" Ron asked, motioning the Potions homework. "Well, you'd best ask Hermione about that."

"No, not that kind of help. I mean.girl help."

"Oh, that kind of help," Ron said understandingly. "Well, what d'you need help with, mate?"

His tone was one of great experience, and Harry felt himself growing almost envious. "What do you do, then, when you've infuriated Hermione?"

"Hope she doesn't hex me," was Ron's blunt reply.

"Besides that. What do you do?"

"Beg and grovel for her forgiveness."

While the mental image of Ron pleading for Hermione's forgiveness was certainly entertaining, Harry grew nervous at the idea of having to do the same for Ginny. Especially since they weren't really.together.

But still, Ron's words had given Harry an idea.

*

The following morning, a school owl delivered Ginny a note:

Ginny,

I've gone out and made a prat of myself, but dare I hope you'll forgive me anyway? I really didn't mean to respond to the Meryll thing the way I did; it just came as a shock. I know that's no excuse, and am profusely sorry for the things that I said. Still friends?

(Here there were a number of cross-outs; apparently Harry was unsure of how to sign the letter.)

--Harry

Harry caught her eye from the other end of the Gryffindor table. She gave a small nod and smile.

*

That very night, Professor McGonagall made an announcement that was either wonderful or a travesty, depending on how you looked at it. "This year, the staff has decided that we will hold a Valentine's Ball. This will take place the evening of Valentine's Day, and formal dress is required."

Ginny gulped.

***

Author's Note: Thanks to Anne for the beta, and to everyone who's reviewed this far. (