A Harry Situation
By Jill Weber/ Jelsemium
Characters copyrighted by J.K. Rowling and used without permission or intent to make a profit.
Chapter Six: A Wild Hair
Harry Writes a Letter:
Harry chewed on the end of his fountain pen and put his feet up on the battered trunk that he alternately used as a footstool and a writing desk during the Great Attic Cleanup. His aunt had told him to haul it to the kerb, but he rather liked the battered looking thing. When he ran his fingers across it, he could feel the faint outline of roses, although he couldn't see them in the battered leather.
He owed Ginny a letter, right? He wouldn't look stupid for writing a thank you for a thank you note, would he? It was times like this that he wished he had a sympathetic adult present to ask questions like this. He didn't think Aunt Petunia had been drinking enough to be approachable.
He'd have to risk it, he decided. Besides, he was fairly certain that Ginny probably wouldn't object to getting a letter from him. She still liked him, even though she had gotten over her crush on him a long time ago. (Thank Merlin!)
His stomach cramped suddenly. *Oh, please, don't think about crushes. Thinking about crushes will make you think of Cho. Thinking of Cho will bring you to… Ginny. Write a letter to Ginny. She's a nice person, you should be nice to her.*
"Dear Ginny," Wow, such originality! "I'm glad you like the cat." *What a startling revelation, I'm sure she expected you to be disappointed.* *I thought you* ? *I hoped that she would find a welcome*? *I figured*? "I thought that you'd like her. Ron's told me that you really like cats, and I've seen how you help other students with their animals. I'm glad to know that Pixie is in such capable hands. (Ron's told you how she got her name? It was the only way to keep Uncle Vernon from doing something to her. Well, to be fair, I only think Uncle Vernon would have done something to her if he'd thought she was a regular cat.) Anyway, feel free to change it if you don't like it. Or if she doesn't like it. Whatever." (Stop babbling, Potter.)
He frowned. What else? 'Please write back, I am feeling bored and lonely and I need something to take my mind off. Oh, yeah, what a sweet talker I am. Ginny doesn't need to listen to me whining. Besides, wouldn't Cedric love to have a chance to be bored and miserable? He had a flash of Cedric and Cho holding hands and his stomach gave another lurch. This time, he had to run to the bathroom. He braced himself on the toilet, but the churning subsided and left his last meal where it was.
He hadn't wanted Cedric dead, really. He'd been jealous… that was natural, right? Just wishing Cedric would fall off the face of the Earth hadn't brought about Cedric's death, had it? Or was he letting himself off the hook because he didn't want to be responsible for Cedric's death? Mr. and Mrs. Diggory hadn't blamed him, but then, they probably hadn't known about his crush on Cho. Harry sighed. He wished he had a neutral adult that he could trust to talk to about these things. The only adults he felt comfortable talking with were, face it, prejudiced in his favor. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the thought of there being people prejudiced in his favor helped calm his nerves, so went back to his bedroom.
*Erm…* "Thank you for the meat pies. They were delicious. *Should I ask who cooked them? She might be embarrassed if I do. Or annoyed that I assumed that she couldn't cook them. Never mind, if you have to agonize over the question, it's not worth asking. As something else.*
" I'm curious about the dust bunnies you mentioned. In Muggle houses, the term 'dust bunnies' refers to a clump of dust and hair. I was wondering if Wizarding dust bunnies were, well, more rabbit-like." *There, that ought to convince her you're a total idiot.*
"I mean, you mentioned Pixie liked to chase them, so I was wondering if they moved on their own or were just blown around by stray breezes." He sighed. What else? "So, how's your summer going, other than cleaning up the attic? We're in the same boat there, I'm helping Aunt Petunia clean out the attic at Privet Drive." *NO, she thought you were cleaning out some attic in Hogsmeade!*
"My uncle and my cousin are away on a trip." *Tell her that they're at a fat farm? Nah, no need to elaborate. Besides, to a witch, a 'fat farm' might be some place where they raise fat or something.* "Which leaves me to do most of the heavy lifting." *Like they'd have helped if they were here.* "It could be worse, I suppose. At least I'm building up some muscle."
"How's your summer so far? I've got my Potions and my History of Magic essays written. I wonder if McGonagall is really going to make us turn footstools into sheep. Ask the twins if they had to do that. I can't see the point of this. I mean, if you're really hungry, I guess it's better to eat a sheep than a footstool, but I imagine they wouldn't taste very good, would you? Besides, wouldn't it be easier to just transfigure the footstool into lamb chops?"
*If you keep babbling like this, Ginny will think that YOU'RE the one who's been spiking your lemonade.*
"Anyway, if you need any help with your essays, I'll be happy to try to help." *Where'd that come from? She probably doesn't need help, and you're no Hermione.* "I'm not as good as Hermione, but since she's going to be out of the country for a week or so, maybe I could fill in. My best subjects are charms and DADA." *Like she couldn't guess that.* "Like you couldn't guess that."
Harry ran his fingers through his hair, and another thought occurred to him. "I sort of have an ulterior motive for volunteering. I have a problem that I'm hoping you or your mother could help me with. My hair is turning white. Not a lot, mind, just some random streaks. Considering everything else that's going on, it's a small thing, but it's annoying. What do witches do when their hair goes white? Or does it matter to them?"
"Looking forward to seeing you and the rest of your family at the Burrow soon,"
Harry
He ran his hand through his hair again, read the letter over and then decided this was enough tripe to put in one letter. So, he attached it to Hedwig's leg.
Hedwig eyed him suspiciously.
"Oh, go on," Harry said, waving his hands at her. "You act as if I'm always changing my mind about my letters instead of just the once."
Hedwig shrugged, then flew off. Apparently, she was still miffed about something. Goody, another fight in progress. Harry wished he could write to Sirius, he needed to talk to somebody who wasn't mad at everybody, but Hedwig was too conspicuous. He needed a less showy bird to send to Lupin's place. Hedwig wasn't going to like that at all.
Ron and Ginny Read a Letter:
Ron scowled.
"Come on, Ron," Ginny said in affectionate exasperation. She sat down next to him and punched his arm. "He's your best friend, it's not like you're proposing to him or anything. Don't get all tongue-tied, that's my job."
Ron rolled his eyes at her. Then he looked at the pile of crumpled parchment littering the lawn around the oak tree by the stream.
Ginny's eyes widened and she leaped to her feet. "Ron! That stuff's expensive! You want Mum to put you on permanent degnoming duty?" She bounced around, plucking up paper and dislodging a few beetles and a curious gnome or two from the undersides of the scraps. Then she came back to sit with Ron while she flattened out the paper.
Ron looked unhappy, so Ginny changed her tune. "Well, most of these only have a few lines on them. I can erase them, and smooth them out so the paper can be reused." Her eyes went wide went she caught sight of what Ron had written. "RON! Not again! Poor Harry!"
"I know," Ron said icily. "That's why I discarded them. I doubt Harry'd drop his letter in the soup again."
"Well, why do you want to be nasty for, anyway? It's not like you ever teased Harry about girls," Ginny spoke with authority, but in truth she was only guessing. She knew about Harry's crush on Cho Chang. Everybody knew about Harry's crush on Cho Chang. (She knew she should be sympathetic to Harry's plight, but there were times when she felt, well, malicious glee was the only term for it. It wasn't fair that the whole school was in on Harry's innermost feelings, but, damn it! It wasn't anything she hadn't been through!)
Ron shrugged, proving to Ginny that she hit the mark. "I do so know who Romeo and Juliet are," Ron gritted, changing the subject. "Why would he assume that I don't?"
"Because he doesn't know how much Muggle literature you're familiar with," Ginny said. "You've never shown any interest in books before."
"Shakespeare was a squib, everybody knows that!" Ron said.
"What does that have to do with anything?" Ginny replied. "He lived in the Muggle world and his works are classified as Muggle literature."
"Hermione and I are nothing like Romeo and Juliet," Ron insisted. His expression was closed, reminding Ginny of the look Harry frequently got on his face after the third task.
Worried, she tried to tease him into a better mood. "Of course not," she said, poking him in the arm. "Romeo and Juliet were in opposing houses. Everyone knows that Romeo was a Slytherin and Juliet was a Gryffindor."
Ron's scowl got darker.
Ginny stifled a giggle and fluttered her eyes at her brother. "Oh, Ronnie-kins. Have you no romance in your soul?"
Ron lurched to her feet and suddenly Ginny was aware of how tall he was.
"I don't see anything bloody romantic about teenagers dying!" Ron roared.
Ginny shrank back, wide-eyed.
Ron opened and closed his mouth a few times, blushed, sank back to the grass and covered his face. "Damn. I'm sorry Ginny."
Ginny recovered herself. She knew Ron well enough to understand that outburst. After all, more than half her brothers were teenagers, she was a teenager, Harry and Hermione were teenagers. She could see where the thought of teenagers dying would bother him. "You're scared, aren't you?"
"Of course I'm scared!" Ron snapped, lifting his face up. Then he bit his lip. "Sorry. I hate this. Why can't we have a normal life where all I'd have to worry about is what color flowers to buy for Hermione's corsage? I hate this war and it hasn't even started yet."
"We all do," Ginny said soothingly.
"I know that," a little acid crept back into Ron's voice. "But Hermione's in danger because she's a Muggle and because she's Harry's friend. Harry, of course…"
"You're in danger, too, you know," Ginny said softly. She reached out and patted Ron's forearm.
"I know… but, somehow it's not as scary. I mean, this is mostly scary because, I don't know what's really going on with them, especially Harry."
"They write, don't they?"
"Yeah, but it's not the same. I mean, Hermione will leave things out if she thinks it will upset me and, well, you know what Harry's like. He could have a werewolf gnawing on his knee, but if you ask him how he is…"
"He'll say…" Ginny interjected.
"I'M FINE!" both Weasleys put in together. Both heaved deep sighs afterwards.
This wasn't getting them anywhere. So Ginny decided to make an effort and break out of the foul mood. "Admit it, though, you really do have romantic feelings for Hermione," she said.
Ron blushed.
"Why not just admit it?"
"Because I'm scared of that, too," Ron admitted. "I mean, I don't want to be teased…" he trailed off and the blush deepened.
"The way I've been teased over Harry?" Ginny asked ironically.
Ron made a wry face. "Exactly." He paused.
"You learn to live with that."
"Yeah." Long pause. "I'm sorry about teasing you, by the way."
"Thanks," then Ginny grinned. "But don't think that means you're going to get off the hook that easily."
Ron looked alarmed.
"Though, really, you don't have nearly as much to 'look forward to' as the twins do."
"Thanks. I'll help you with the twins, by the way."
"Thanks. If you want my advice about Hermione, you should ask her on a date."
"But…" Ron sighed. "But it's so bizarre to think about going out on a date with Hermione. It's even more bizarre to think about doing something with her that doesn't involve Harry."
"So, involve Harry," Ginny advised.
"It's not a date if it's the three of us, Ginny," Ron said.
"It is if there are four of you," Ginny replied.
Ron's eyes went wide. "Oh, a double date! That would be perfect!" He leaned back and chewed on his lip.
"So, who should we get for Harry's date?" Ginny mused. "Parvati? Do you think she'll even speak to him after the Yule Ball Disaster?" she added at the incredulous look on Ron's face.
"I reckoned you'd be Harry's date," he said.
"ME!" squeaked Ginny.
"Why not? Don't you want to date Harry?" Ron asked.
"Of course I want to!" Ginny retorted, turning Weasley red in the face. "What makes you think he'd even consider asking me to be his date?"
"You could ask him," Ron pointed out.
Ginny squeaked again.
"I could ask him, then," Ron said.
"I don't think he swings that way."
"GINNY!"
"Sorry," Ginny giggled. "But really, ask him what? 'Harry, I need you to be Ginny's date to help me work up the nerve to ask Hermione out on a date'?"
"Erm, something like that…" Ron trailed off uncertainly. Then he perked up. "I've got an idea, I'll help you get a date with Harry if you help me get a date with Hermione."
"You mean, you're not going to have a hissy fit if Harry gets interested in me?" Ginny asked slyly.
"Why would I? He's my best mate. He deserves the best," Ron said. Then he blushed. After all, one didn't go around admitting that he thought his sister was the greatest thing since the Chudley Cannons!
Ginny blushed, too, then said. "Pink."
"Eh?"
"You should get Hermione a pink corsage," she explained. "It would look good with her coloring."
Before Ron had a chance to respond to that, Hedwig swooped down to deliver Harry's latest letter to Ginny.
"Hey!" Ron protested as Hedwig held her leg out for Ginny.
"Hey is for horses," Ginny shot back. "Besides, you haven't written him back, yet."
"Oh. Right. What should I say?"
"I'm busy, write your own letter."
"Read me yours," Ron commanded.
Ginny gave him a McGonagall LOOK.
"Please. Besides, it's only fair. You read my letter from Harry."
"Only part of it, by accident," Ginny huffed.
Ron just grinned at her until she grinned back. She decided to comply. Maybe Ron would read her other letters from Harry. Besides, it wasn't like Harry was going to propose or anything, right?
"Dear Ginny," she read.
"Whoooo! Ginny's got a boyfriend! Ginny's got a boyfriend!" Ron hooted, pumping his fist in the air.
Ginny slugged his arm.
"I'm glad you like the cat. I thought that you'd like her. Ron's told me that you really like cats, and I've seen how you help other students with their animals."
Ginny's jaw dropped and she stared at the letter. "He's NOTICED me?" she squeaked.
Ron reached over, twirled a strand of her hair around his finder and pulled it across her eyes. "He's not blind, you know," he drawled.
Ginny sighed and continued reading. Ron was right. The only thing that was more noticeable than Weasley hair would be, maybe, somebody's head bursting into flame.
I'm glad to know that Pixie is in such capable hands. (Ron's told you how she got her name? It was the only way to keep Uncle Vernon from doing something to her. Well, to be fair, I only think Uncle Vernon would have done something to her if he'd thought she was a regular cat.) Anyway, feel free to change it if you don't like it. Or if she doesn't like it. Whatever. Thank you for the meat pies. They were delicious.
"Of course, Mum baked them," Ginny said before Ron could. "And you have to let me read your whole letter, now!" she added. "I want to know what Harry said about naming Pixie."
Ron shrugged.
" I'm curious about the dust bunnies you mentioned. In Muggle houses, the term 'dust bunnies' refers to a clump of dust and hair. I was wondering if Wizarding dust bunnies were, well, more rabbit-like."
Ron shook his head despairingly, then dodged as Ginny aimed another blow at him. "Hey!"
"Well, how's Harry supposed to know that dust bunnies are ephemerals?" Ginny retorted.
"Ephemerals?" Ron asked.
"You know, magical creatures with a life span…"
"Of only a day or two," Ron finished impatiently. "Yes, I know that. Where did you learn such long words?"
Ginny raised her eyebrows. "I'm not a baby, Ron. I'm fourteen! Besides, I read a lot, you know."
"You're as bad as Hermione," Ron muttered.
"Thank you."
Ron reached over and mussed her hair up.
Ginny slapped his hand away.
"I mean, you mentioned Pixie liked to chase them, so I was wondering if they moved on their own or were just blown around by stray breezes. So, how's your summer going, other than cleaning up the attic? We're in the same boat there, I'm helping Aunt Petunia clean out the attic at Privet Drive."
"Hey, something you two have in common, Cinderella," Ron said. He caught her fist when she swung at him. So she kicked him instead.
"Hey!" Ron protested. "No fair, Mum would hex me if I hit you!" He rubbed his knee where her kick landed.
Ginny stuck her tongue out at him. "Next time, then, be the last one born!" She went back to the letter before he could think of a suitable retort.
"My uncle and my cousin are away on a trip. Which leaves me to do most of the heavy lifting. It could be worse, I suppose. At least I'm building up some muscle."
"WHOOO!" Ron hooted. He snatched up a piece of parchment and began fanning Ginny furiously. "Be still your heart!"
Ginny giggled and picked up another 'fan' for herself.
"How's your summer so far? I've got my Potions and my History of Magic essays written. I wonder if McGonagall is really going to make us turn footstools into sheep. Ask the twins if they had to do that. I can't see the point of this. I mean, if you're really hungry, I guess it's better to eat a sheep than a footstool, but I imagine they wouldn't taste very good, would you? Besides, wouldn't it be easier to just transfigure the footstool into lamb chops?"
"He makes it sound like he thinks transfiguration is easy," Ron complained. "He's even worse at it than I am!"
Ginny giggled again. Then her jaw dropped again and her face went furiously red.
"WHAT?" Ron demanded.
"He's… I mean, I think he's flirting with me," gasped Ginny.
"Give me that," Ron snatched the letter out of her hands and ran his finger down it. "What? I don't see anything that looks like flirting."
"Well, he offered to help me with my homework…" Ginny trailed off uncertainly.
"Ginny, if offering to help with homework was flirting, that would mean that Hermione was flirting with half of Gryffindor, all the Hufflepuffs in our Herbology class, and a few select Ravenclaws who shall remain nameless to spare them the humiliation of having it known they turned to a Gryffindor for help!"
Ginny giggled again, partly in relief. She wasn't sure how she'd react if Harry actually started flirting with her!
"Besides, he's asking you for a favor," Ron said. "See, he's having hair problems, poor sap." The last bit was said under his breath.
Ginny read the letter. "Oh, the poor thing!" she said. "I'll ask Mum if she knows anyway to fix this." She bounded to her feet.
"Hey, what about my letter?"
"Keep it short and sweet, something along the lines of 'I know who Romeo is, I am not Romeo.' and 'Yes, I'll take the Firebolt, thank you,'" Ginny advised. "I'll read it over before you mail it, if you want."
"Good idea," Ron admitted.
Molly and Dumbledore:
Molly threw a pinch of dust into the fire. "Albus Dumbledore," she said clearly, although her voice wanted to shake. She took a deep breath, stuck her head in the fireplace and looked around. She was in Dumbledore's office.
"Ah, Molly," Dumbledore said pleasantly, but there was a worried look in his eyes. He knew Molly wouldn't be using such an expensive means of communication on a whim. "What brings you to my fire?"
"I'm worried," Molly said. She looked into the Burrow behind her. Ginny had gone upstairs to work at the attic some more. Ron appeared to be writing a letter outside. She took a deep breath. "No, I'm scared. The sooner you can let Harry come to the Burrow, the better off we'll all be."
Dumbledore's brows furrowed. "Why do you think his danger has increased?" he asked quietly.
Molly read the last part of Harry's letter.
"White hairs," mused Dumbledore. "It could be simple stress, you know."
Molly nodded. "After all he's been through? I wouldn't be surprised." She swallowed. "However… when Ginny was younger, I read her every book about Harry that I could find. One of them was much too… technical… for a young girl, so I skipped most of it. One part I skipped was where it said that Harry's Grandmother Potter died of Kirttimukha hemorrhaging. That's triggered by stress, Albus, and not only that, it runs in his family. After all that poor child has been through, he should be thoroughly checked by a medi-wizard, preferably a specialist, and those Muggles will never do that!"
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "I remember Tatiana Potter well," he said. "She never fully recovered from the shock of having her husband murdered. She died shortly after James was married." He was silent for a long time. "I don't suppose Harry has mentioned any other symptoms besides white streaks in his hair?" Dumbledore asked. "Headaches? Swollen joints? Stomach pains? Nausea?" he paused. "I suppose even his Aunt would notice if he were coughing blood."
Molly shook her head. "Maybe not. You know how stoic that boy is. He probably wouldn't tell her if he was throwing up blood. If he's mentioned any symptoms to Ron or Ginny, they haven't passed the news on to me. And I assure you, they'd seize on any evidence that Harry would be better off here with us."
Dumbledore nodded. "You are right. I should have foreseen this possibility. I'll hurry the preparations as best I can." He stroked his beard for a moment. "I'll also talk to the director of St. Mungo's. If nothing else, I will arrange for a thorough physical for Harry."
"Thank you," Molly breathed. She pulled her head from the fire. There had to be something she could send Harry to help him. Well, she was no Hermione, but maybe it was time to go to the library.
Harry and LEE:
Harry had to hand it to his aunt. She worked like a house-elf once she got started. On his own, Harry figured that cleaning out the attic would have taken at least a week. Between the two of them, they'd cleaned out all the trash from the attic and sorted through the seemingly endless array of boxes, trunks, suitcases, chests and crates in the attic.
Some things were actually put in the charity box. Most were just repacked. However, once they were finished, everything that was left was packed much more compactly. There was now room to walk about the attic. Harry looked around the tidy attic and his stomach ache worsened. This was bad, but he didn't know why.
He wasn't left in the dark for very long.
When he returned from lugging the last load to the dust bins on the kerb, he found his aunt looking around the attic with a speculative look on her face. Harry's stomach ache got even worse.
"You know, Potter, this attic wouldn't make a half bad bedroom," Petunia said.
Harry sighed in resignation. Well, it was better than the cupboard under the stairs. But there were only two windows, and both were small and set up high, there for ventilation rather than viewing. He looked up measuringly. 'At least Hedwig could fly in and out,' he consoled himself.
Petunia kept up a running dialog. "Yes, you can use this old camp bed and I was thinking of chucking this old desk, but you can use it for the rest of your stay with us. No need in getting you anything new. You'll be leaving in two years."
'And not coming back,' Harry thought. He didn't bother voicing it. There was no point in stating the obvious.
"I'll help you bring your trunk up here," Petunia decided. "You can study up here and I can have that cupboard back at last."
Harry shot her a look of mingled incredulity and fury. Petunia actually stepped back a pace.
"Putting me in the boot cupboard was NOT.MY.IDEA!" Harry snapped. He marched downstairs, not bothering to wait for Petunia's response.
Petunia stared after him for several long moments, then her cheek twitched and she sighed. Then she went down to help Harry carry his trunk upstairs. She was not going to apologize for having disciplined him. They had done the right thing, she told herself firmly.
Between the two of them, they managed to get Harry's things up into the attic. Harry insisted that he needed a stool or something to reach the windows so he could have them open to let owls in and out. Petunia had frowned, but made no objection. She'd won her major battle, so she was going to let the smaller ones go.
As soon as they got everything arranged, Petunia turned to go. "What's this doing here?" she demanded. "Why didn't you take it out to the trash like I told you?"
Harry looked at the trunk he'd been using. "I like it," he said. "If you don't want it, why can't I keep it?"
Petunia snorted. "This old trash? Why not? It belonged to my grandmother, Benedictine Arne," Petunia snorted again. "She never forgave mother for not naming one of her daughters after her, the crazy old bat."
"She was crazy?" Harry asked.
"Well, she claimed she could see… the future…" Petunia trailed off. "Maybe she was a freak like you and your mother," she added. "She claimed she had powers, but she never mentioned Hogwarts or ever hinted that there was a society of wizards."
"Maybe she didn't know," Harry mused. He fumbled with the catch.
"There can't be anything in that trunk," Petunia said. "It's too light."
Harry stopped fumbling with the catch. "This is weird," he said.
Curious, Petunia stooped for a better look. Harry showed her the latch.
"It's fake!" Petunia breathed. She ran her forefinger along the line beneath the false latch. "This isn't the front of the trunk, this is a seam, there must be hidden hinges."
"So the back of the trunk must be the front," Harry mused.
They turned the trunk around and studied the back.
"The hinges must be latches," Harry said. He reached out and fingered them. Suddenly, the old, battered trunk began to melt and reform. It was still an old, leather trunk, but it was in much better shape. The pattern of roses and eagles embossed around the edges was clear, if faded.
Petunia backed away.
Curious, Harry flipped the disguised latches and the trunk. Inside, there was old, yellowed tissue paper covering lumpy parcels. On top of everything was a note.
"PV," the note read. "Please store this until I get a chance to pick it up. I'll probably be there around November 5th. By the way, you don't have to worry about attending a 'Christmas bash with weirdos' this year, we won't be able to host one. I would appreciate it if you would keep some December dates free for next year. J. is already planning a 'Make It Up To Everyone Party'. -- LE."
Harry stared. He'd never seen this writing before, but he didn't need anybody to spell it out for him.
Petunia did anyway. "Lily," she whispered.
To Be Continued
### Author's Notes ###
Kirttimukha is from Hindu mythology.
The comments about sheep/footstool transfigurations are inspired by rabbit and -v-Jinx-v's Slytherin Study Group. I highly recommend those stories.
Pseudonym Sylphmuse: Thanks for the review! Your Ginny story sounds interesting. I'd like to see what happens when she accidentally turns in a diary entry with her homework!
A. Lee: Ron is still having troubles writing a letter. Harry doesn't intend to let on that he saw the nasty one. Further updates as they happen!
MoNmOn: Not all of Harry's hair is white. He's just getting white hairs. (This is actually based on real life. I started getting white hairs when I was in high school. I was rather proud of them.)
Nightw2: Thanks for the review! I am working on our collaboration!
Xavien: Yes, I've noticed that there are standard phrases in a lot of reviews. I don't really mind it, though. I just like getting reviews! (Thanks for yours, by the way.) ** I've heard of worse things than Gin and Lemon. ** I corrected Ginny's middle name, already. I'm using Margaret for her middle name. Thanks for pointing that out. ** No, I wasn't planning on turning Harry into an owl. (I rather like that idea, though. I do seem to have the set up for it, don't I?)
Chocolate Muse: Thanks! I'll update as fast as I can!
Winddance: Thanks! Thanks! Thanks! I try to have a clear blueprint of where I'm going when I start a story. I don't always get there, but I try.
Katrina: Yep, Ron got heated up. Harry unintentionally hit a sore spot. I hope this chapter clears up why.
Female Fred: Anybody can be a prat, if you push the right buttons. As I said to Katrina, I hope this chapter explains why he was so touchy.
Ozma: Thanks! Glad you liked the chapter, I had fun writing this. ** Yes, I can see how a blood stain on the carpet would be an unpleasant souvenir. ** That's one of many things that I like about Harry. He's been picked on all his life, but he isn't a doormat. He's kept his sense of humor and his sense of irony. I suspect if he got this from his father, then James must have been a handful. ** Ron does know who Romeo was, that's one reason he was so upset. The name has negative associations beyond being a young lover. ** Ron and Ginny are fun characters, at least, the way I see them. Ginny is underused in the books so far, I hope Book Five has more of her. ** Yes, she'd be curious about Harry's letter… and at the same time, she wouldn't want to intrude on Ron's privacy. I'm glad that scene worked. ** Nope, it wouldn't occur to Ron that Harry would lie to him about something like that. It's not the sort of thing a person usually lies about. Why would they? ** Ginny won't be too desolate, Harry's written back in this chapter!
pegoheart144: Thanks for the review, and thanks for mentioning which parts you particularly liked.
Christy: Thanks!
Chary: Update? Soon? By the way, have you seen my collaboration with Ozma?
