Disclaimer: This story is written for the purposes of my own amusement and, hopefully, that of my readers, and no profit of any kind is being generated by it or by either of its prequels. All characters and history belong to J.K. Rowling and to whomsoever she has licensed her creations at the present time. I own the plot and the odd original character, nothing else.
Sorcerors' Endgame A Harry Potter Fanfiction by Penpusher Sequel to "By the Pricking of My Thumbs"Chapter Thirteen: A Meeting of Minds
A searingly bright light lanced into Ginny's eyes. On reflex, she flinched away from the glare and fell into an abyss of nothingness.
There was no light, no sound, no sensation at all; she was suspended in a vacuum, her face frozen in the rictus of a silent scream. Even Harry's hand was no longer there. Have courage, I am with you. Was that his voice, or merely her imagination? Then there was nothing.
~oo0oo~
Darkness, fragments of awareness, a voice, low and insistent. She couldn't make out the words, but the tone was urgent.
"Ginny."
The voice was getting louder.
"Ginny. Wake up. Come on now."
She screwed her eyes shut and tried to burrow into herself, wanting no dealings with this voice. It could do what it wished without reference to her, surely? She started to protest at its persistence, but all that emerged was a cracked moan. A gentle hand brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
"Ginny!" the voice was getting impatient now. "Please. Just open your eyes. Let me know you're alright."
Okay, okay – just keep it down, will you? Her body made an attempt to get itself into gear. She cracked open one eye and cried out as light sliced into her retina.
"Ow!" she sat up, bringing her hands involuntarily to her head. "What hit me? A manticore?" She tried opening her eyes once again. A pair of green eyes swam into focus, framed by a shock of black hair.
"Harry?" she murmured blearily. "What happened?" His mouth curved into a smile.
"Thank goodness!" he exhaled in relief. "I thought – well, never mind what I thought. Can you stand?" Obediently, Ginny shifted her legs under her then groaned once again.
"Give me a minute." She rubbed her eyes, blinking them into focus as she glanced around her – and froze. She frowned, looking towards Harry, and her jaw dropped.
"Harry, you – you're …" He nodded without smiling.
"I noticed," he replied dryly, "and incidentally – so are you!"
Harry looked smaller, slighter. His face was plumper, more childlike, and the lines of care and worry had been miraculously smoothed away. His dark hair was as unruly as ever but longer than usual, and he wore round spectacles with a chip out of one lens. His black wizard robes displayed a very familiar crest – that of a lion bearing the legend "Gryffindor".
Temporarily speechless, Ginny glanced down at herself. Physically, she was thinner, smaller, and her womanly curves had somehow vanished. Her body seemed to have regressed to adolescence, if that were possible. Her abundant red hair flowed wild and untamed down her back almost to her hips. Her robes were identical to Harry's.
She lifted her hands, surveying herself in wonder, and turned to Harry with a puzzled expression.
"Where are we?" He shrugged, giving a wry smile.
"Search me," he replied, "I just woke up myself." Forgetting all about her headache, Ginny panned around the scenery, taking in every detail.
"It looks like – "
"Yeah," Harry cut in, "I know what it looks like – and I know what we look like. Okay, so it's possible – but why?"
The corridor was made of stone. Huge, worn flags stretched ahead of them as far as the eye could see, chilly-looking walls rose high into wooden rafters, flaming torches cast shadows that flickered and danced against the stonework. Harry stood up, hands on his hips, and surveyed the area.
"We're back at school, Ginny." he said, ironically. "This is Hogwarts.
Ginny rose to her feet, twisting her disarrayed hair into a quick, firm knot at the back of her neck. She frowned.
"Harry, I know what it looks like," she began doubtfully, "but is it real? I mean," she gestured widely to the dizzying length of the corridor, "to begin with, we don't wear these clothes any more, and we've changed a bit physically since leaving, yet here we are, just exactly as we looked before we graduated. I've even got a Prefect badge; but, Harry – I wasn't made Prefect until my Seventh Year, and you'd already left by then!" She paused to gather her thoughts.
"Okay, try this for size." she began. "Do you actually recognise this corridor as somewhere familiar to you in Hogwarts, or does it just remind you of the place?" Harry frowned.
"Well, now you come to mention it," he replied slowly, "I don't remember this corridor specifically, no, but what does that signify?" He paced the floor. "There were dozens of places we never explored while we were there. Even if we'd tried, I'm sure the castle itself wouldn't have let us into all of its secrets: some of those flights of stairs never led to the same place twice. Even the Marauders Map is pretty incomplete, despite the genius of Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs." Ginny nodded thoughtfully.
"So, reality or illusion? No decisive evidence either way, so far." she concluded briskly. "Okay, so whoever brought us here wants us to act as though we're back at Hogwarts, and they've adjusted our appearance to fit in with that scenario, yes?"
"Or maybe they want us to cast off the shackles of adulthood and return to adolescence," suggested Harry, "and the surroundings are just here to provide local colour."
"But why?" Harry shrugged.
"Who can say?" he replied. "I guess we'll find out soon enough." Ginny bit her lip, pivoting on one heel to survey her surroundings.
"Three dead ends." she announced, finding a blank wall behind her. "Only one way to go." She turned to look down the corridor. It stretched away as far as the eye could see until it disappeared into an unimaginable horizon. She glanced at Harry and held out her hand.
"Well?" she said impatiently. "Are you coming or not?" Harry didn't reply immediately. He was staring at her with a faint smile, as though digging deep into his memory, trying to judge the authenticity of her current appearance. Unaccountably, Ginny blushed.
"Harry!" she repeated, more insistently this time. Still smiling, Harry curled his fingers around hers and fell into step beside her.
"You know," he said conversationally, "you really were very pretty as a teenager. I'm surprised I didn't notice."
"You had eyes for someone else," she responded lightly, "and besides – I was just Ron's little sister. Out of bounds to his best friend. Or anyone else!" she finished with a gloomy sigh. Harry gave her a sideward glance and cleared his throat self-consciously. Ginny looked at him enquiringly.
"I must confess to something of a mental tussle over this – situation." he admitted, the twinkle in his eyes belying the serious tone. "To tell the truth, I'm having a rather unexpected reaction to your proximity and, ah, adolescent attractiveness, and I'm not entirely sure whether it's the real me who's responding, or the schoolboy appearance!"
Ginny stared at him, giving a sudden high-pitched giggle as the pieces fell into place. Harry merely raised his eyebrows and smiled.
"Well, don't expect me to do anything about it here." she retorted, flushing an even deeper shade of red. "Besides, we're on business, Harry! Get your mind out of the gutter and back on to current issues!" But try as she might, she could not suppress a very pleased smile.
Their footsteps rang out on the cold stone floor, echoes returning from the dimness above. Lead-lighted windows appeared on both sides of the corridor, but behind their glass was impenetrable darkness. Harry tried to open one with no success. Losing interest, Ginny wandered towards something in the distance. Harry watched her peer curiously at whatever it was, then freeze. He moved quickly to her side.
"What's this, Ginny?" She didn't answer. Her face was puzzled.
"It's me." she whispered. "I wasn't sure at first, but it is me!"
The first thought that came to Harry's mind was that she had found the Mirror of Erised. Huge, gilt framed, stretching from floor to ceiling, this vast expanse of glass resembled the original very closely. However, the ornate frame was bare of any inscription, and the glass merely reflected two small, startled faces.
"Yes," he replied easily. "I told you – you look very young, you know." She shook her head.
"No!" she whispered. "Not my reflection – oh, can't you see?" As Harry stared more closely into the mirror's depths, over the shoulders of their pale reflections another very different scene began to unfold.
A large, unkempt and familiar garden took shape. A group of children, all with striking red hair, ran around the moss-infested lawn playing a vigorous game of catch with what looked like a quaffle.
"To me, to me!" shouted a well-grown boy of around nine years of age. He waved his arms furiously. Another lad, who resembled the first very strongly, lobbed the quaffle over the head of a smaller, freckle-faced boy. It was quickly snatched by the first with a howl of triumph. Turning fluidly, he threw it with all his might towards a battered wooden ring. The throw was far too hard and high, missing the ring and crashing into the branches of a large oak tree. There it stayed.
"That's torn it." a slightly older boy strolled into view, ostentatiously reading a book. "You'll have to ask Dad to get it down when he comes home."
"Not on your life, Perce." volleyed the perpetrator of the deed, taking off at a run towards the tree. "We'll just get it from the tree house." With whoops of joy, the other children followed in his wake.
"Fred! George! You're not allowed to climb out of the windows!" shouted Percy. "You know how cross Mum was last time." But Fred was already scrambling up the worn rope ladder. The boy who looked so disturbingly like him turned to smirk rudely at Percy. He swung onto the ladder, swiftly followed by the freckle-faced boy who climbed energetically, trying to keep up. George glanced back at him.
"Watch it, Ron!" he admonished. "You're practically climbing up my back!" he looked down. "And tell Ginny to get off the ladder! She's too small to climb up here at here age, and besides – she's a girl!"
Ron grinned at his brother in reply and turned, aiming a kick at his younger sibling.
"Ginny, go back down – you're too young to be up here!" he ordered. The smallest figure turned furious eyes on her brother.
"It's as much my tree house as yours!" she retorted. Ron glared at her.
"If you don't get down right now, I'll tell Mum!" he replied. "You won't get any dessert for a week!" Ginny frowned, her lip jutting out in an angry pout.
"I don't care!" she retorted, still climbing. The edges of Ron's ears went red with anger.
"Go away, Ginny!" he shouted, kicking out at her once again. "I'm older than you, and you're supposed to do what I tell you! It's boys only up here – and you're not a boy!" Ginny tried to avoid the furiously flailing foot, but was eventually driven back down the ladder.
"And stay there!" yelled Ron furiously as he began climbing back up the ladder.
"I hate you!" she shouted, beating small fists against the tree trunk. Dashing angry tears from her face with grubby fingers, she stormed back into the house. Once in the kitchen, her eyes lit on a wand, unattended and unguarded. In the heat of her childish rage, she snatched it up, ran back into the garden and pointed it at the tree house with all the passion of youthful injustice.
To her astonishment, the wand jumped in her hand, there was a loud crack and the tree house containing the three small boys began to descend, slowly and inexorably to the ground. She watched in fascinated horror as the flimsy wooden structure slipped from its moorings, gradually disintegrating as it fell, to a chorus of terrified shrieking from the occupants. Ginny waited no longer: she fled back into the house, shouting for Mum at the top of her voice. However, circumspection had not completely deserted her – she was careful to replace the wand exactly where she had found it.
The images faded, leaving Ginny breathing heavily, her face in her hands. Harry folded her into his arms, lips in her hair, murmuring reassurance. She shook him off impatiently and stared up into his face with frightened eyes. He smiled gently.
"Ginny," he began, "it's okay, really." She shook her head frantically.
"No, you don't understand." she told him feverishly. "No one knows about that – do you see? I've never told anyone!" She paused to draw breath.
"I was never found out." she continued in slightly calmer tones. "It was Charlie's wand I used – he was always losing the darned thing. I practically killed my brothers by destroying their clubhouse, just because they wouldn't let me in it. And I never owned up. I let everyone think that it was an accident." Ginny buried her face in her hands. Harry laid a hand on her shoulder.
"Was anyone hurt?" Ginny nodded.
"Ron got a nail through his foot," she began, "climbing out of the wreckage. George broke his arm, Fred lost a couple of fingernails – nothing serious." Harry frowned.
"Didn't you have an Improper Use of Magic Notice as a result?" Ginny couldn't suppress a smile at that. She nodded.
"Yes," she replied. "Charlie was served with one a few days later. He swore blind he hadn't done anything." She sighed. "He was right – he hadn't. He had no dessert for a week. And it was all down to me."
"Ginny, you were a child!"
"I was a vindictive little cow!"
"Well, maybe you had cause to be." Harry scratched his head. "It can't have been easy, being the smallest in such a large family – and a girl, to boot. They must have given you hell." She smiled reminiscently.
"They certainly did, particularly the twins," she told him, "but after a while, they realised that Ron was a better target. He rose to the bait far more easily than I ever did, and his efforts at revenge were always completely transparent. The only way he could ever get one over on Fred or George was if I helped him." Harry grinned.
"Who knew you were such a firecracker so young!" he replied. Ginny lowered her eyes modestly then frowned again.
"But Harry, why?" she stared at the now blank mirror. "Why show us something that happened so long ago? Something that I'm so deeply ashamed of?" Harry didn't answer. Instead, he pursed his lips, took her hand and continued walking. Ginny pulled on his arm. He turned enquiringly.
"Can we walk along the other wall, please?" she begged. "I'm terrified of what I might find on this side." Harry shrugged but obediently shifted towards the left. They moved on for a while in silence, until another object affixed to the wall came in sight.
This was also a mirror, but of a completely different design to the previous one. Large, oval, frameless and made entirely of glass, it seemed to hang without support in mid air, just inches away from the wall. Harry felt a prickling sensation down the back of his neck as he peered into its depths.
In a small, quiet clearing in the middle of a wood, three boys were arguing. They all looked to be about fourteen or fifteen, but whereas two of them were tall and heavy, the third was smaller, thin and rather weedy looking. Behind the round lenses of his spectacles, his green eyes were darting here and there, looking for escape. It was wasted effort; the others had him cornered.
"You won't get away from me this time, Potter." one of the bigger boys, an ugly brute with blonde hair, was saying. "I know that stupid school of yours teaches you to do all sorts of unfair things, like turning people into frogs. You could do that to me, if you wanted to, couldn't you? But you won't, will you, Potter? Dad found out the summer before last you're not allowed to use magic outside your poncy school until you've left – and that's three years away, isn't it, cousin? If you did turn me into a frog, they'd kick you out, send you packing, expel you – wouldn't they? So, seeing as you can't show us what you learn at your school, Felix and I'll just give you a bit of what we learn at Smeltings, eh, Felix?"
The other fat boy sniggered. The small, dark-haired one was clenching and unclenching his fists. He looked scared.
"Don't come near me, Dudley!" he said in a high voice. The two others looked at each other and burst out laughing.
"Or you'll be sorry." the smaller boy finished on a low, defeated note. He stared at the ground, visibly trembling. Dudley gestured to his colleague.
"You first, Felix." he said, smiling courteously, then, at the other's startled glance: "Just practising my manners. Like we do at school – you know!"
Felix grinned, revealing teeth as sharp and crooked as an alligator's. He approached the smaller boy slowly, savouring his fear, his terrified immobility. He made a sudden lunge and grabbed him by the hair, pulling his head to an impossible angle. He gave a feral smile at his gasp of pain.
"Harry Potter, genius, the boy who lived – pah!" he spat. Harry yelled in agony. Dudley gave a thin, high cackle of laughter as Felix increased the pressure.
Suddenly, Harry went completely limp. Felix, taken by surprise, slackened his grip. Like an eel, Harry slid from his grasp, turned rapidly and planted a well-aimed knee in the other boy's gut. Winded, his eyes popping out of his fat face, Felix fell face down on the forest floor, his hands clutching his ample belly. Dudley stared aghast, then raised his eyes to meet those of his cousin. Harry took a deep breath, bit his lip, and stepped towards his fallen adversary. His shoes were not heavy, being merely Dudley's worn-out trainers, but the first kick he aimed at Felix's ribs connected with enough force to elicit a cry of pain.
The next few moments were a blur of violence. Finally, Harry stood, breathing heavily, wiping sweat out of his eyes. Felix was rising slowly and unsteadily to his feet. His face was bruised and there was a cut over one eye. His lip was swollen and he was holding his side, wincing as he moved. He looked up at Harry, gave a pitiful cry and cowered away from him. Harry glared into Dudley's horrified face.
"That's what'll happen to you." he told him hoarsely. He swallowed and his voice became stronger.
"I'm not the pathetic little twerp I was before I went to Hogwarts," he continued, "I've learned a thing or two – and not just about magic either. I've had enough of your bullying. I don't want to fight you, Dudley, I really don't. I want you just to leave me alone, do you hear? Touch me again, and I'll do the same to you. Or it could be worse." His eyes became hard.
"Now, get out of here, both of you! Go away – go home!" The two boys didn't need telling twice. They ran as fast as they could, Dudley easily outstripping the injured Felix. In the mirror, the child Harry sank down to his knees on the forest floor and cried bitterly.
Ginny heard a soft gasp. She turned to see the adult Harry, his face buried in his hands. His shoulders were shaking.
"Harry?" she put a gentle hand on his arm. Gradually, he regained control and lowered his hands with a final sigh.
"Was that the truth?" she asked, looking up into his eyes. He nodded wordlessly and turned away.
"So now you know." he replied, his voice rough. "Harry Potter, the Boy who Lived, the genius wizard, the dirty fighter, the bully." Ginny could hardly believe her ears.
"The bully? Harry, you were the one being bullied!" Ginny was incensed. "Those two boys – your horrible muggle cousin and that idiot with him – they deliberately set out to beat you up. You defended yourself – where's the shame in that?"
"I didn't just defend myself, don't you understand?" Harry's eyes were stricken. "I hurt him really badly; badly enough to be sure he would never, ever hurt me again. Enough to make sure Dudley would walk stiff-legged around me until I left home. And I did it deliberately." He groaned and looked at the floor.
"I just wanted them to leave me alone." he whispered. Ginny put her arms around him.
"And this was your big childhood secret?" she said gently. "Something you never told anybody? Something you were never punished for?" Harry nodded.
"Dudley took the blame for Felix's injuries." he told her levelly. "It meant that Felix's parents refused to let their son have anything to do with the Dursleys for the entire time my cousin was at Smeltings. Actually it made very little difference. Felix was too ashamed at having had the lights kicked out of him by a pathetic little wimp like me to want to be near Dudley again – after all, my cousin had witnessed his humiliation at the hands of someone much smaller and younger than himself – so Dudley lost a friend too. Actually, the only one he ever had at that school." Harry sighed.
"I succeeded in permanently stopping my cousin from harming me," he told her, "but was the game really worth the candle?" Ginny shook her head.
"Who can say?" she replied crisply, "but if that's the worst secret you have, then you've led a peculiarly blameless life." Harry pursed his lips.
"Oh, I don't know." he replied looking further down the corridor. "I've a feeling we're in for a few more surprises yet."
~oo0oo~
Sirius paced up and down in front of the huge tree. Occasionally he eyed it malevolently and fingered his wand, as if dying for a chance to curse it into next week. Two hours had gone by, and they were no nearer finding Harry and Ginny.
Syrinx alone was sanguine about the situation.
"The Old Magic will protect them." she insisted. "Their lives are in no danger." Sirius merely growled and went back to his pacing.
Fred moved unobtrusively over to the pale girl and took her hand.
"Syrinx," he murmured in a low, "I'm not doubting you in any way, please believe that. I trust you, and I'm certain that Harry and Ginny are safe. However, there is the little matter of a posse of Dark Wizards probably less than an hour away from us by my reckoning. Do you have any suggestions as to what action we should take?" The girl aimed her sightless eyes unerringly for his face and shook her head.
"I cannot tell you." she replied composedly. Fred raised his eyebrows questioningly.
"If I tell you what to do, you will not do it and the timeline will change." Despite the gravity of the situation, Fred allowed a faint smile to curve his lips.
"Let me get this straight." he began, steepling his fingers. "You know what I should do to ensure that the most favourable timeline comes into being, yes?" She nodded mutely. "But you can't tell me, because if you do, being the kind of person I am, I'll try to improve upon it and thus move us into a different, less favourable timeline. Does that about cover it?" The girl sighed.
"Yes, Fred." she replied ruefully. "I guess that about covers it." Fred was silent for a moment, then he started to laugh quietly. Squatting down beside her, he threw a companionable arm around her shoulders and planted an impulsive kiss on her cheek. Syrinx flushed; this was his boldest gesture yet.
"My love," he began, still chuckling, "I never before appreciated how ghastly it must be to always be right! You're continually floundering in a moral maze. You must go through agonies every time you intervene in anything at all – have I done the right thing? Could I have found a better way?" The girl nodded.
"And then there are the times when I don't intervene, and torture myself for my inactivity." she finished with a wry smile. "On the whole, those occasions are fewer. I may be young, but I have learned enough over my short life to know that my real function in this world is to refrain from interfering." Fred nodded.
"It's a paradox, isn't it?" he mused. "You are the most powerful being in this world today. But you spend your life in secrecy in case others with less conscience than yourself seek to use you for their own ends, and you must use your gifts as little as possible lest you upset the balance of the world. A poor existence, Syrinx." She nodded sadly.
"True, my friend," she began, "but there are worse situations. The Sorceress Cassandra of Troy was also a true seer, but she was cursed throughout her life with the fate that her prophesies would never be believed."
"Ouch!" Fred winced in sympathy with the legendary Cassandra. "That must have been a real bummer!"
"Truly." agreed Syrinx. "She came to a very sticky end." Fred tightened his arm around her shoulders.
"Well, however bad it was, it's not going to happen to you." he told her firmly. "Not now I'm here." The girl smiled and let her head rest on his shoulder.
~oo0oo~
Further down the corridor they walked, their shadows sent dancing by the flickering torchlight over the walls and floor. The next mirror was also on Harry's side.
This one had a carved wooden frame, intricate and three-dimensional. Ginny stared at it, puzzled: its vaguely oriental flavour reminded her of something. Then the images started to appear, and her attention shifted.
The scene was certainly in Hogwarts, but the room was not a classroom or a hallway. This was a small dormitory, so small that it had to be one of the few single bedrooms allocated to Seventh-Year Prefects only. A girl – small and slight with very black hair – was standing at the open window, gazing out into the sunshine. Faint roaring could be heard, as of a large crowd, and in the distance, figures dressed in bright colours could be seen diving and swooping on broomsticks. Their robes were green and yellow.
The girl turned suddenly, starting at the sound of a knock. Her pale oval face was Eurasian and she was very pretty.
"Come in." Her quiet instruction was answered by the turning of the latch. The door opened to admit a lone bespectacled boy whose anxious face and awkward manner betrayed some trepidation at being there at all. The girl smiled shyly then demurely lowered her eyes and turned back to the window. Dragging a nervous hand through his hair, the boy joined her at the window, hesitantly touching her hand in greeting.
"What's the score?" he asked.
"Slytherin lead by twenty points to ten." she answered, her eyes still riveted to the Quidditch pitch. The boy made a face
.
"I know they're a good team," he said, "but somehow it goes against the grain to want Slytherin to win at anything!" The girl smiled and turned away from the window.
"Oh, Harry!" she sighed in gentle exasperation. "Fair's fair: if they're the better team, don't they deserve the victory?" She raised a gentle hand to his face, caressing his cheek. He caught the hand, bringing his lips around to kiss the palm. He looked up, holding her eyes with a level gaze.
"Would you prefer to watch the match?" he asked awkwardly. "I mean, if you don't want to go through with this, I'll understand …" he trailed off as, with one last glance at the whirling figures, she stepped away from the window.
Sliding her arms lightly around his neck, she stood on tiptoe to brush his lips lightly with her own. Her expression was serious.
"Harry," she told him, "I do want to go through with this – more than you can ever know." She ducked her head briefly then met his eyes once again.
"I will be leaving Hogwarts at the end of this term." she told him. "I want us to be together – even if it's only this once – before my life changes totally. I have to know, Harry." She bit her lip.
"I want you so much. I have to know whether this is right, or whether it's just part of – part of growing up!" Harry gathered her into his arms, pressing his lips against her neck, his eyes closing in passion.
"Oh, it's real alright." he murmured. "I've never felt this way before, not about anyone or anything. I'm – completely helpless, head over heels, besotted!" The girl laughed, a rippling, delighted sound. Harry bent his head to kiss her soft mouth, gently, thoroughly.
"I love you, Cho." he whispered against her hair.
"And I love you, Harry." she replied, equally quietly. Pushing him gently away, she took his hand, leading him meaningfully towards a corner of the room where her huge, curtained four-poster bed was situated.
Harry glanced at Ginny as the remainder of the scene unfolded. Her face was impassive; only a slight flush betrayed her emotional reaction. When the images finally ceased, she gave a small sigh and turned to meet his eyes. He shrugged.
"What can I say?" he told her, a hint of bitterness in the tone. "You just witnessed me making love to Cho for the first time. You watched me lose my virginity. It can't get much more personal than that." Ginny swallowed, knowing instinctively how important it was to get this right. Gently now!
"Harry," she began slowly, "Why do you think whoever – whatever – is in control here chose to show me that particular image?" Harry shrugged impatiently.
"How should I know?" he replied, turning his back and running his hand through his hair in exasperation. Ginny put her hand on his arm.
"I'm serious, Harry." she said urgently. "What is going on here? Get your brain into gear and start thinking – why?" Harry stopped raking his hair and considered. He turned to her.
"That – image," he began, "well, it's scarcely something I would have chosen to tell you about – in fact, I didn't tell anybody, ever. Ron and Hermione both knew that Cho and I were serious – so did you, as a matter of fact." Ginny lowered her eyes, then she felt a warm hand tilt her chin and raised her head to Harry's mild gaze.
"I thought we'd been through all that, Ginny." he said quietly, but with a slight question in the tone. She gave him a quick smile and grasped the extended hand.
"We have." she replied firmly. He nodded.
"Okay." he continued, a slight frown gathering between his brows. "However, my point is that literally no one knows Cho and I began our physical relationship on Hogwarts premises." He scratched his head with a slightly awkward expression.
"As you saw," he continued, "we managed to meet for the first time during a Quidditch match between Hufflepuff and Slytherin." Ginny nodded, her eyes bright with memory.
"I remember that game." she replied. "That was the first time Malfoy ever caught the Snitch!"
"And the last!" Harry retorted with fervour. Ginny gave him an old-fashioned look.
"Are you sure that's quite true?" she asked. He shook his head dismissively.
"Frankly, I don't care." he responded. "The point is that even though Ron and Hermione covered for us during that match, they didn't know things between Cho and me had progressed to, well, quite that degree. They were having similar problems keeping their own relationship quiet. Ron took me fully into his confidence over that – well, he didn't have much choice really, as I would probably have worked it out from the Marauder's Map – and I covered for them as much as I could when they wanted total privacy. But the point is, they both truly believed that I hadn't got beyond the hand-holding stage with Cho. We told them we were going on an illegal jaunt to Hogsmeade for the afternoon – through the secret passage in the witch's hump. To this day, neither of them knows that we never left Hogwarts!" Ginny's jaw dropped.
"You mean – my brother and Hermione were …" she trailed off as Harry nodded, biting his lips to keep himself from laughing at her scandalised expression.
"At Hogwarts?" she managed in a shocked tone. Smiling, he stroked her hand soothingly.
"My dear girl, you didn't really believe, after all that instruction in Sixth Year from Madame Pomfrey about Contraceptive Charms and the Morning-After Potion, that Hermione would have been able to resist trying it out? All in the name of Research, of course!" Harry laughed, an open, carefree sound. Ginny swallowed her chagrin and glared fiercely.
"Well, I never did!" She retorted. Harry looked slightly surprised.
"Did you not?" he said. "You know, I'm really not sure why, but I always rather assumed that Markland wasn't your first. You met him directly after Graduation, didn't you?" Ginny arched her eyebrows and nodded.
"Yes, I did." she replied. "So, because I went out with Sven Gunnarsson from Hufflepuff in my last year, you naturally assumed that I was – how did you put it? – making good use of Madame Pomfrey's instructions, hmm?" Harry looked a little shame-faced.
"I should have known better." he said ruefully. "I never really thought about it in detail; trying to avoid probing dangerous waters, I suppose. I guess I just assumed that if I was doing it – Me! Shy, awkward Harry Potter – then everyone else had to be!" Ginny shook her head.
"It depends less on the person you are than on the person you're going with – if that makes any sense." she replied. "Sven was never any good for me. Oh, he was blonde, hunky and gorgeous, but if the truth be told – and it must be – I went out with him because he asked me, and because all my friends said I'd be daft to turn him down." She gave a faint smile.
"Whatever you thought then, Harry, beauty and muscles just don't do it for me; they never have. Sven was genuinely fond of me, though, and I got to like him a lot as a friend. I think we had a workable relationship because we got on okay, and neither of us wanted to date anyone else. It took some of the pressure off him." Her eyes twinkled mischievously.
"I've not set eyes on him since he graduated," she continued, "but if he's decided to change teams in the interim, I wouldn't be at all surprised. I got the strong impression that girls really didn't interest him that much." Harry raised his eyebrows, staring at her in disbelief.
"You must be joking! Gunnarsson – gay? But – but he was Chaser for Hufflepuff for – what was it? – three years!" Ginny shook her head solemnly.
"I'd put money on it," she replied firmly, "and, Harry, being gay doesn't automatically preclude a man from being good at sports, you know." Harry let out a surprised breath.
"Well, that beats all!"
"So, now you know. David really was my first – despite your baseless assumptions!" Harry looked apologetic.
"Seriously, Ginny, I'm sorry." he replied humbly. "It was wrong of me to second-guess your love life." Ginny looked at his downcast expression and relented.
"Cheer up." she told him. "Now you know all about my past amorous adventures – or lack of them, perhaps we might be spared the graphic details." Harry suddenly froze, oblivious of her hopeful smile.
"Now you know …" he muttered," … spared the graphic details. That's it!" The last was a jubilant exclamation.
"What?" Ginny looked puzzled. Harry grabbed her shoulders urgently.
"Don't you see?" he told her. "This is about the Joining. This is about sharing – memories, thoughts, dreams. Things we are unwilling or too ashamed to bring into the open, things we thought we had forgotten, things that we really had forgotten." He stared into her face and his eyes seemed almost to bore holes through to her brain.
"I can't prove it conclusively, but I'd be willing to make a bet that if you hadn't told me about Markland, I'd have been treated to a blow-by-blow visual account in the next mirror." he continued more thoughtfully. He gave her a rueful smile. "So if there's anything more I should know, I guess you'd better 'fess up now – unless you want to be treated to another X-rated feature!" Ginny shivered but said nothing.
"What about you?" she asked eventually. "Is there anything more to know about you and Cho?" Harry paused to consider.
"Cho and I were – intimate on Hogwarts premises precisely twice." he told her finally. "Even though she had a Seventh-Year Prefect's suite and I, as a Sixth Year Prefect, had certain privileges, including virtually the run of the school, we had an almost paranoid fear of gossip. We didn't dare risk being discovered – it was just too difficult for me to keep secrets in that place, especially after Dumbledore died." Dumbledore! Harry shied quickly away from that subject.
"So we kept our meetings to a minimum." he finished shortly. "Now, are you absolutely sure there's nothing you're keeping back about Markland?" Ginny paused then took his hand; her eyes were intense and determined.
"Let's just check that out that theory of yours, shall we?" she said bravely, although her trembling fingers betrayed her. "My turn, I believe. Yes, Harry, there are a couple of things you don't know about David and me. Let's see if the next mirror shows them; then at least we'll know where we stand."
"Wait a moment." Harry considered. "I know this might sound overly sensitive, considering our present position, but I have a small personal squick about watching my woman in bed with another man. I'm sorry, Ginny – I know it wasn't pleasant for you to watch me with Cho, but two wrongs don't make a right. I'd be grateful if we didn't have to go through it again." Ginny smiled at his anxious face.
"Harry," she said, "I really have no desire to replay my first night with David either, but you've got to admit, it would be incontrovertible proof that your theory is correct."
"Yes, yes, I know." Harry was nodding. "But there must be an easier way. Now, I'm not being prurient, Ginny, but if you tell me about your first time – you and David – we might manage to avoid viewing it in technicolour." Ginny blinked, slightly taken aback.
"Well, there's not a lot to tell, really." she said eventually. "I mean, it's not like we were breaking school rules, like you and Cho. We were both consenting adults, both unattached, unmarried. I'm – not sure quite what to say about it, to be honest."
"Well then," Harry shook his head in vague confusion, "let's start at the beginning: when exactly did it happen?" Huge brown eyes gazed unblinkingly into his.
"The night we met, Harry." she replied quietly. "That very same night." Harry's jaw dropped; he stared. She shrugged.
"Sorry." she said in a false, rather brittle tone. "Something of a shock to realise how easy I am, isn't it? Now you know what you're getting, are you sure you still want it?" She turned away, tears pricking behind her eyes. Harry grabbed her shoulders roughly and turned her round, forcing her to look at him.
"Yes, Ginny." he replied vehemently, small flexings of his fingers accompanying his words, giving them weight. "Yes, I've always known what I was getting, and yes, I'm sure that's exactly what I want. Now, let's look in that damn mirror and have done with it!"
Ginny gave a slight hiccup, visibly composed herself and approached the next mirror with extreme trepidation. If Harry only knew what she dreaded seeing – a rerun of her first night with David would be a walk in the park by comparison.
No sooner than she glimpsed the images in the mirror, Ginny knew the game was up. She gave a heartfelt groan of despair.
The scene was obviously a pub. A group of people consisting of Fred, George, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were seated around a large oak table, taking in the scene and sampling the local drinks. Strangely, the pub was not a wizard establishment, which fact was likely the cause of the slight unease permeating the group.
"So, this is how the muggles enjoy themselves, huh?" George cautiously sipped his drink and made a face.
"Ew! Tastes like the stuff Madame Pomfrey used to put on cuts!" Fred quickly removed George's glass and replaced it with his own.
"You want to watch that stuff, bro." he replied smoothly to his twin's questioning look. "It's called a Screwdriver, and it has a kick like a mule. I'd let you find out the hard way, but while we're still sharing a flat, I really don't want you puking over any part of it – including me!" George's face registered nothing so much as puzzlement.
"Why should this stuff make me sick?" Fred sighed.
"It's not what it does at the time," he explained patiently, "it's the after-effects. Now be a good boy and drink your lemonade." Hermione laughed.
"So when do you plan on moving in with me, Fred?" she asked. He pursed his lips.
"Well," he began, "Our tenancy agreement isn't up till next month, and we've got to pay rent until then. Seems a pity to give that tight-fisted old bat the chance to collect double."
"Oh, who cares!" George took a gulp from his glass. "Ah! That's better! Seriously Fred, as soon as Ron gets the paperwork on his flat sorted, I'll be on his doorstep with my suitcases. I'm fed up with having to tiptoe around to avoid waking up her darned cat. It's like being back at Hogwarts – only Filch was friendlier!"
"She's becoming paranoid." Fred put in. "She doesn't really believe there's two of us, but she's greedy for the rent. It's driving her absolutely nuts trying to work it out! She tried to get what she called 'The Truth' out of Ginny last week, didn't she, Gin? Hey, Ginny?" The slender, elfin redhead ignored her brother, gazing fixedly onto the dance floor. Her lips were vibrating slightly.
"What's up, Gin?" asked Ron, leaning over to see if her drink needed replenishing. The girl started violently then turned.
"Nothing, Ron, really." she replied, a little too quickly. To dispel her brother's suspicious stare, she took a quick sip of her drink and smiled broadly.
"Just absorbed in the music." she told him. "You know, I'm absolutely sure I could do better than that." She pointed to a miniscule stage on which gyrated a girl scarcely out of her teens. She was singing tunelessly along to a karaoke track out of the muggle top ten. Ron winced and covered his ears.
"I'm inclined to agree with you, sister mine." he replied. "Frankly, even I would be an improvement." But Ginny had gone. Craning his neck, he watched in amazement as she approached the DJ, shouting something in his ear. The DJ took one look at her and nodded enthusiastically. Before Ron could alert the others, Ginny had climbed onto the makeshift platform.
What happened next was as surprising to the others as it was unsettling. Firstly, Ginny took to the stage like she had been born to it, handling the microphone with ease and familiarity, moving rhythmically to the music, and lending an earthy rasp to the usual sweetness of her voice. The pub went wild, stamping their feet and demanding an encore. Ginny sang once more then refused all other blandishments, climbing firmly down from the stage and returning to the rest of the gang. Ron was open-mouthed.
"My owl, I didn't know you were that good, Ginny!" he exclaimed. The others joined in the accolades, only Fred betraying a certain restraint in his compliments.
A shadow fell over their table. Ginny looked up to see a dark-haired, handsome face smiling urbanely at her.
"Good evening." the stranger said. "My name is David Markland. I am a theatrical and musical agent. I was most interested to witness your performance just now. Most interested indeed." Ginny's jaw dropped. She looked as though someone had just hit her with a brick.
"Th-thank you." she managed. The stranger's smile broadened.
"Perhaps you would do me the honour of lunching with me one day next week?" he asked smoothly. "I would appreciate the opportunity to talk with you in depth about your musical talents. Would Tuesday suit you?"
"That – would be marvellous." she responded breathlessly. He nodded.
"Tuesday then." He scribbled something into a hand-held organiser then looked back into her eyes, holding out a hand.
"Perhaps I might have this dance?" he asked with a smile. "To tide me over until we meet again?" Wordlessly, Ginny took the proffered hand and followed the stranger onto the dancefloor.
As soon as they were out of earshot, George leaned over the table.
"What the hell does she think she's doing, dancing with a muggle?" he hissed, trying to keep his indignation under control.
"Who does that slimy git think he is, moving in on our sister?" Ron was even more outraged. Hermione laid a warning hand on his arm and opened her mouth to utter soothing words, but Fred got in first.
"I wouldn't be too quick to jump to her defence if I were you." he said quietly. "I admit, I'm just as much in the dark about this, but I've a strong feeling our innocent little sister is not quite as naïve as she seems."
"What was that all about?" Harry muttered. He turned to Ginny with a puzzled look to find her, face buried in her hands, breath coming in quiet gasps.
"Ginny," he said, shaking her arm gently, "It's okay – really. Couldn't you face watching it? It's alright, honestly – it wasn't anything salacious. Actually, to be truthful, I'm not quite sure what it was."
"I know exactly what it was." her voice was muffled. Harry's fingers began to stroke her arm automatically.
"What was there to be ashamed of in that little incident?" he wondered, half to himself. "After all, you did nothing, Markland made all the running. All you did was sing."
"Is that so?" Ginny burst out, raising her head, a very peculiar expression in her eyes. "Well, whoever, or whatever, is in control of this circus is making damn sure that every dirty little secret either of us has is going to be hung out to dry."
Harry shook his head, completely in the dark.
"I'm sorry, my love." he told her. "Painful as it obviously is, you're going to have to explain that one to me."
Ginny was silent for a long moment. Finally, she gave an exasperated sigh and looked up at him.
"Alright." she replied in low tones. "What you saw there was only an appearance, Fred had the rights of it. He always did have a nice line in hunch – before Syrinx took all the guesswork out of it."
"An appearance? What do you mean?"
"David didn't make the running, I did. There, now you know." Her face was crimson. She stared at the floor in humiliation.
"How?" Harry was beginning to catch on. Ginny sighed again.
"I used magic, okay?" she refused to meet his eyes. "I noticed him as soon as we came into the pub. I – I cast a spell over him."
"Flamel's Stone!" Harry was shocked. "You used a love charm? But why? What made you want him so much? And how did you get away with it?" She was shaking her head violently.
"No, no!" she replied vehemently. "Not a love charm! Nothing like that – too close to Imperius for my liking, even if they weren't illegal." She paused, swallowed then looked up at him again.
"I was fed up, Harry." she began, her lips in a tight line. "I knew about you and Cho at Hogwarts, and I knew you were intending to live with her when you left. When she died, I grieved for you – I really did! – but a treacherous little part of me wondered, hoped that maybe you'd look elsewhere for consolation. Perhaps to me." She hung her head.
"I knew you were living in London throughout my seventh year." she continued. "Ron told me the occasional little piece of news. It was through his letters that I learned you were buying a house. Harry, I was so excited!" her eyes shone. "Ron told me about the place, how big it was, how you were hoping to get as many of the old gang as possible to live there. Hermione was helping you set it up. It sounded perfect – Ron knew I was going to work for Ernie MacMillan at Wizarding Radio, so he said he'd fixed it with you for me to move in. A dream come true!" The light in her face faded.
"Then I discovered that far from living in the same house, I would be living a continent away from you." Harry was cut to the quick by the sadness in her voice.
"It was the death knell for all my hopes and dreams." she told him. "I knew then that I could never compete with Cho – a dead rival is almost impossible to supplant." She hung her head, letting the memories wash over her.
"That evening I was feeling fey." she continued. "I had given up on you – you had already left for LA and I was trying to get you out of my system once and for all. I saw David and decided to see if I could get him to dance with me. Just to prove that I could still cut it, okay? So – I used an Allure. I'm ashamed to admit to it, because it was an underhand thing to do. I don't mind using Glamours, but Allures only serve one purpose – to attract someone specifically into your sphere of influence. That was precisely what I had in mind for David, and it worked – far too well!"
"However," she gave Harry a wry smile. "The whole thing spiralled completely out of my control, and I ended up in a relationship that was as debilitating as it was doomed. So if you want poetic justice, I'm your girl!"
"And then I came home."
"And turned my life upside down once again." Harry sighed.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"What, before you went to LA? I was at Hogwarts, remember? And it wasn't exactly the sort of thing I could put in a letter."
"But I stayed at The Burrow several times while you were at home. Surely you could have …" Harry trailed off at the look of desolation on her face.
"I tried." she managed in a small voice. Harry furrowed his brow.
"When?" She shook her head. He grasped her shoulders.
"Come on, Ginny. No secrets, remember?" Her eyes were very wide and brown.
"I can't tell you," she whispered, "but if your theory is correct – I can show you."
The next mirror was small and oval in shape with an exquisite china frame made from carefully interlaced leaves and flowers. The pastel glazes were delicate and light, and the whole effect was fresh and natural.
The same untidy garden, the same oak tree, but no treehouse now and a few flowers in the borders. A young man with messy black hair lay motionless in the long grass, an arm flung across his face to shield his eyes from the summer sun. He wore faded cutoff jeans and a worn grey teeshirt that merely accentuated rather than concealed firm biceps and pecs; Harry was growing out of his schoolboy slenderness and putting on some muscle.
"I'll conjure some shades for you, if you like." He stirred at the sound of a feminine voice and looked up at the pretty redhead standing over him. The summer sun had coloured her fair skin a pale apricot, and a light dusting of freckles covered her nose and cheeks. Her long, long hair was twisted back into a haphazard knot, tendrils of it escaping to cascade down her back and across her face. Her thin dress of white cotton billowed attractively in the slight breeze. Harry smiled, squinting up at her.
"Thanks, Ginny," he replied, "but I'll make do." He wriggled his bare toes in the cool turf and sighed contentedly. She sank down on the soft lawn beside him and a companionable silence fell. She idly plucked blades of grass, splitting the stems to nibble on the sweet centres. White clouds drifted across the creamy blue sky; birdsong was the only sound to disturb the peace of an August afternoon.
"Harry." Ginny said in a thoughtful tone.
"Mmm?"
"Do you miss Cho?" There was a slightly startled silence then Ginny blushed crimson with embarrassment.
"Oh, I'm so sorry – I didn't mean it like that. It's just …" She trailed off and looked at the ground, but she was no coward – she finished her sentence.
"I just wondered if you'll ever – well – get over her."
Harry remained motionless for a short while then he sat up, leaning his elbows on his knees. His expression was wistful.
"I don't know, Gin." he replied. "This isn't the first time I've been bereaved, but it's the closest. It's difficult to know how long it'll take me to achieve what the Americans call 'closure'." Ginny took a shaky breath.
"Perhaps I could – help you? You know, maybe we could go to some places together, do things, have some fun. After all, we are friends." Harry smiled, but Ginny didn't see it. Her cheeks still afire, she seemed to have found something extremely interesting in the grass beneath her feet. The next thing she knew, her own small hand had been taken in Harry's larger one and a gentle kiss had been planted on her cheek. She flushed even more deeply, her heart thudding wildly.
"Thank you, Ginny." he said warmly. "That's a very kind thought. You never know – I might be able to take you up on it some time. When I come back on visits, of course." Ginny frowned and looked up.
"Visits?" Harry started.
"Oh, didn't I tell you?" He frowned, clicking his tongue in irritation. "No, I didn't. I'm sorry – you weren't there when I told the family yesterday. Ginny." Harry turned to take both her hands in his.
"Ginny, I've been offered the most fantastic opportunity." his eyes lit up. "I've landed a fascinating post at UWIZ in London. It's a Lectureship in DADA and Magical Artefacts – what do you think of that?" A broad grin spread over Ginny's features.
"Oh, Harry!" she squeaked. "That's absolutely marvellous news!" Spontaneously, she flung her arms around his neck and hugged him.
"When do you start?"
"At the end of the summer." he replied. "Mind you, I've got to get my stuff sorted, put some of it into store – you know the sort of thing." Ginny frowned in puzzlement.
"Into store? But I thought you already had a house fixed up. Hermione's been going crazy about colour schemes for the past six months." Harry slapped a palm against his head in impatience.
"I'm really not telling this very well, am I?" he smiled. "My job is with UWIZ, but it's a secondment to LA, to the Wizarding University there. They've asked UWIZ for me, and it's such a marvellous opportunity that I can't turn it down. The contract's for three years, renewable after two. Just think, Ginny! All that sun, sea and surf!"
"But – but what about the house? I thought you were going to live in London." Ginny's voice was quiet but it shook slightly.
"So did I," replied Harry, totally oblivious to her reaction, "but when this opportunity came up, I reckoned it was perfect. I need to get away from England, Ginny – too many memories." His smile faded. He stretched out in the grass and stared up into the sky once again. Ginny sat near him, still and silent as stone.
"I'll get back every now and then – Hermione's keeping a room for me at the house." He pursed his lips. "You know, we really should think of a name for it – we can't keep calling it The House. Any ideas, Gin? Ginny?" He turned his head then sat up to see her running at full pelt towards the house. He called once then, receiving no reply, shrugged and lay down again to enjoy the all too infrequent English sunshine.
The picture faded. Harry sighed and lowered his eyes.
"I'm sorry." he whispered, not looking at her.
"Don't be." she replied, equally quietly. "How were you to know that I loved you – even then?"
"If I'd taken you a little more seriously …" he trailed off. She shook her head firmly.
"What's done is done, Harry, nothing can change it. It wasn't your fault, but by being so blind you drove me – indirectly, of course – into David's arms." Harry gave a wry smile.
"Well, at least that one seems to have been judged history." he said, squaring his shoulders. She nodded.
"I think you know all there is to know, all the nasty little secrets about that part of my life." she agreed. "Now think carefully, Harry – is there anything left for you to tell me? Any other romantic entanglements? Pre- or post- Cho? Anything that happened in LA?" Harry was shaking his head firmly.
"No, Ginny, I told you the truth when we first got together." he replied. "After Cho died, I didn't dare risk another relationship and, prior to her, I was a complete innocent. I have no other skeletons of that type in my closet." He held her gaze steadily; she nodded.
"No more surprises, Harry," she said quietly, "just truths."
The linked hands one more and together they moved slowly down the endless corridor.
~oo0oo~
Author's Notes: Many thanks for the reviews, Iggly Wiggly, Qaera and Dreamgirl. This was a difficult chapter to write because in order to get the logistics to work, I needed to write the next one alongside it. It took a long time, and I'm still not totally convinced I got it right. I'm tying up a lot of loose ends here in this story, and it's "doin' my 'ead in", as the Eastenders say. Someone is going to find something I've missed, that's for sure!