READY TO RUN
Many thanks for all of the fab reviews! Remember kids—the wonderful and revered J.K.R. owns all of these characters, I just borrow them when the mood suits!
CHAPTER TWO: DIAGON ALLEY AND FAMILY FEUDS
Ginny returned to the office after having lunch with her mother. She loved her mother, but how could she explain her circumstances in a way she could understand? It was far too complicated to explain properly, and Ginny found she didn't have the energy anyway.
"Gin? That you? I have the pictures of Dedalus Dingle with his fireworks like you asked. It took a lot of finessing, let me tell you. That guy is a loon." Colin Creevey entered her cubicle, camera slung around his neck and a few photographs in hand.
"Oh, uh, thanks Colin. You can just leave them on my desk," she replied absently. Head in hand, she stared at the piles of paperwork on her desk and tried to concentrate on something other than Draco or Harry's return.
"Ginny, is something the matter?" Colin pulled up an extra chair and lowered his height into it. He'd grown into a tall, lanky man with golden hair and bright brown eyes. Ginny had heard he was quite the heartthrob around the office, but had never been interested in him herself, except as her photographer.
"What? No, Colin, everything is…great. Just great." Her voice was flat, and she didn't even look his way when she spoke.
"Come on, you can't hide anything from me. I'm your camera man, remember that," he said easily, leaning back. He'd been friends with Ginny since first year, had helped her get over Harry Potter when he left, and was happy for her when she got engaged, and comforted her when she got divorced. She was one of his best friends, and he knew her every mood. Something was bothering her, and he intended to find out what it was.
He saw the faint smile, even though most of her mouth was hidden by her hands. "What is it?" he repeated softly.
Why did Colin insist on being such a good friend? "I've been having a bad day. Mum was nagging me about how I should date more, and these memories just keep flashing, clear as day, in my mind. You know, about my marriage, and then the lack thereof." She was going to leave out the part about Harry coming back, but she decided, what the hell? Colin knew about everything else, what would it matter if she told him about Harry?
"And then Mum told me that Ron got an owl from Harry. He's back in England, and he's coming to the family cookout this weekend."
"Well, that's good isn't it? Harry's an old friend of yours." His eyes twinkled with mischief. "Maybe you could appease your mother by going out with him."
This time, he got more than a faint smile. She laughed and hit his arm in jest. "C'mon Colin, that ship has sailed."
"Has it?"
She stopped laughing abruptly. She licked her lips and furrowed her brow in thought. Wasn't she over Harry? Was she that horrible a person, still liking Harry when she married another man? Could she be that selfish?
"Gin, I know what you're thinking, and you're wrong," Colin warned. "You were in love when you got married. Your mind was solely on Malfoy, uh, Draco," he said, keeping his disgust mild. "He was the one who screwed up, not you."
"It takes two people to make or break a marriage, Colin. It's a partnership," she said softly. She was willing to take her half of the responsibility for their crumbled marriage, but she knew that Draco would never take his.
Colin cleared his throat. "Listen Gin, I think you should take the rest of the day off. Go home, get some rest. There isn't a lot of news today anyway; we'll probably run a lot of filler stories." Seeing she was going to protest, he continued. "Doctor's orders." He pulled out her chair and handed her her cloak.
She sighed, but she had to admit she was in no mood to sit around her office. "Thanks, Colin. You're the best." As an afterthought, she added, "You know that you're invited to the cookout Saturday, right?"
"Thanks for the invite, but I have a date. A hot date." He winked and he hustled her out of her cubicle.
"Oh? Who? Do I know her?"
"Her name is Valerie Birchcroft; she works in Gringotts, doing local curse-breaking. Doesn't one of your brothers do the same thing?"
"Yeah, Bill. Well, if you two want to stop by, you're more than welcome. Bye."
He smiled. "Maybe we will. See you tomorrow, okay?"
She nodded. But instead of Apparating straight home, she decided to pop over to Diagon Alley and pay a visit to her brother and sister-in-law.
Ginny enjoyed going to Diagon Alley; it wasn't an event anyone outgrew with age. The shops, the smells, the fancy robes in Madam Malkins, and Florean Fortescue's famous ice cream sundaes were all a blur of noise, color and excitement. About six years ago, Quality Quiddich Supplies went out of business, which made the shop Ron began a few years later a full blown success. It was called Weasley's Quiddich Outfitters, and though its name was simple, his shop was far from it. It carried everything and then some, starting with the staples of the game; brooms, balls, robes, and moving into specialty items; miniature figures of famous players through the ages, books like Quaffle Curiosity and Search for the Snitch: A Seeker's Guide to Quiddich, and various other trinkets children and adults came to expect and enjoy.
Ginny especially liked the fact that three of her brothers worked in Diagon Alley, which made making time to visit them very easy. Fred and George decided that they'd have too much competition with Zonko's in Hogsmeade, so they opened the doors of Weasley's Wizard Wheezes in wizarding London, which meant Diagon Alley. Indeed, the shops were only a few doors down from each other, and if you entered one you were more than likely to find two Weasley brothers, either oogling the newest broom or testing the latest prank on one another. Hermione still did the books for Ron, as they had been married for five years, but she also held another part time job at the Madam Malkins, where she did dressmaking and tailoring jobs for extra money.
When the bell tinkled above Ginny's head to signal her arrival in Weasley's Quiddich Outfitters, it was not one of her fiery haired brothers who greeted her, but her bushy haired sister-in-law.
"Ginny! What a nice surprise! What are you doing in London?" she asked, closing her ledger. The Prophet's main office was in Coventry, and Ginny wasn't one to pop out of the office midday.
"I had the afternoon off," she simplified the situation, "and I thought I'd drop in to say hello. Where are the boys?"
Hermione rolled her eyes and pushed back a few stray bangs. "Fred sent little Shawnie up to fetch his uncle Ron to see their new creation. I heard excited talk about tarts that make hair change color, something of that sort. I swear, if I was Angelina or Kate, I wouldn't trust either of those men to cook. You'd end up with hairy spider legs and canary feathers or some such." She chuckled. "They should let Ron back soon, although the children do enjoy him."
"Hmm. It's nice having hoards of nieces and nephews to spoil. Bill's two little darlings, Charlie's little angel, Percy's future prefects, Fred's little monsters and George's at that, but…" she paused mischievously, "You and Ron haven't given me any yet."
Hermione tutted. "Well, it isn't for lack of trying."
Ginny threw back her head and laughed. Hermione just blushed. "That isn't quite what I meant, but it certainly is true," she said slyly. "Every time I broach the subject, he avoids it. Or finds some Quiddich catalogue that he absolutely needs to look at."
Ginny shook her head in mock disgust. "Men."
"What about men?" Fred asked, entering the shop, flanked by George, Ron, and the five children.
"Nothing, just girl talk. Look," Ginny crooned, "there are some of my many little angels." She held out her arms, and the children hustled forward, shades of red hair flowing behind them, and joyful shrieks of "Auntie Ginny" and "Aunt Gin is here".
"Shawnie, how big you're getting, the spitting image of your dad. Alice, how pretty you look, new robes darling? And the youngest of Fred's brood, my dear little Minnie. Now, where's George's clan? Ahh, there's Hannah and Adam. Look at the two of you, growing like beanstalks!" Ginny smiled, and looked up from the round, flushed faces to her older brothers. "What have you done with their mothers then?"
"We left them in charge of the shop for a few minutes. What are you doing here at this time of day, Gin?" Fred asked, taking a tissue out of his pocket and wiping Minnie's runny nose.
Ginny smiled at the gesture. She remembered when the boys were gawky teenagers, waiting for the post every summer morning to see if there was a note from their latest love interest. With Fred, it was always Angelina, but George had taken a little longer to settle on Katie.
"Just dropping by for a visit. Kind of a spur of the moment thing. I wanted to come and take my nieces and nephews for an ice cream!" She directed the last part at the hoard of children still circled around her.
Ron raised an eyebrow, and sent a look across the room to his wife. Ginny was a workaholic, and never would she leave work in the middle of the day, however much she adored the children. Something was up, and he meant to find out what it was.
Hermione took Ron's hint. "Why don't I take the kids to the parlor, and they can bring it back here and eat in the back room? Then you'll have a chance to visit with the boys," Hermione said. Before her stubborn sister-in-law could protest, she herded the children out the door and into the street.
Ginny shook her head. "I wanted to treat them."
Fred snorted. "You did. Hermione grabbed your purse, kid."
"That's my brainy wife," Ron added. "Now what's the matter, Gin? Don't deny it, we'll bully it out of you."
"Why does something always have to be the matter with me? Can't I visit my family without being nagged or analyzed? Do I wear a sign around my neck that says "I need you help"? Well, I have some news. I'm twenty-nine years old, for goodness' sakes, I can take care of myself. I'm not fragile! I don't break when the wind blows the wrong way!"
The boys all stepped back, three grown men all a head or so taller than the thin woman. The scene would have been utterly ridiculous to a passer by, but the brothers were genuinely scared. It was George who dared to speak first.
"It seems nothing is wrong with you, Gin, unless PMS counts as a serious ailment."
Ginny growled in frustration, and crossed her arms over her chest. "George Weasley, I ought to—" She stepped forward in a threat, but George was saved by the return of Hermione and the children.
"It seems like your lucky day, George," Ginny breathed, malice dripping from her voice. She turned to Hermione. "I have to…take off now." Hermione handed over her purse. "Bye kids," she said sweetly, then sent a look that could kill over their heads to her brothers, and stalked out of the shop.
"See, what did I tell you?" George asked. "PMS."
How dare they? Did she carry an aura that screamed "I'm helpless"? Why did she feel so…useless lately? She was letting bad memories come back to haunt her, and she didn't like having a handicap. This was insane, just insane. She was a woman grown, she could handle things. Or she should be able to. She was so distraught; she wasn't paying attention to where she was going, which was not a smart thing in such a crowded area. As a result, she slammed right into something. Not something, someone.
"Oh, terrible sorry. I wasn't paying attention to where I was…" she trailed off. The man she bumped into was smiling down at her, and she felt a jolt in her chest.
She'd slammed right into none other than Harry Potter.
And here I will end it. A slight bit of a cliffhanger, but that's that for now. Ciao!