To all of you who said "bunker shorts"...thank you! I didn't really want to change the H/G pairing, but as always, I reflect what the people want to see more of. Or less of. Yeah. Umm...story. Right. I'm getting to it, already!
Wesley withdrew from the fire. Actually, he fell backwards an landed on his back, scattering those Slayers who had been standing immediately behind him.
"Well?" Buffy asked, for she and the others hadn't been able to hear the conversation. "Will he help us?"
Wesley didn't answer. He looked slightly dumfounded.
"Hello? Earth to Wesley!" Faith said.
"Oh, yes...right, of course. Err..." he seemed lost for words. "He wasn't there."
"So...does he have a home number, too?" Buffy asked, attempting some light humor. If Wesley even recognized the concept of humor, he hid the recognition well.
"No, you misunderstand," he said. "That was the wrong fireplace."
Despite regaining his ability to speak in coherent sentences, Wesley still seemed lost.
"Wesley - are you all right?" Willow asked, with some concern.
"No. I am most definitely not 'all right'," he said, and Buffy felt a slight tingle of...was that fear? Wesley had never seemed so out of it before.
"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, slowly.
"He's - back," Wesley said.
"Who? This Dumbledore guy?" asked Xander, the confusion in his voice speaking for the whole crowd.
"No. Oh, this is terrible. I...oh, no," Wesley said, and Buffy's sense of alarm grew. As she looked around, she noticed the growing looks of concern on all assembled.
"Wesley, what is the matter?" She asked, with enough conviction to pull Wesley out of his haze.
"This is going to take a while to explain," he said, glancing at the group.
"We seem to have a while," Buffy said.
"Yes. Yes, all right. I'll tell you. I need not warn you that this is not for the faint hearted, because I doubt that any of you are faint hearted.
"Nearly twenty-seven years ago, a wizard named Voldemort came into the public light. He was a fanatic, preaching hatred of non magic folk, or muggles, and muggle-born wizards. He also preached disdain for those wizards who married muggles, as well.
"Voldemort gained power at an alarming rate. The Ministry, of course, could do nothing to stop him - he was well within his rights to say whatever he pleased about muggles and muggle-borns and whatnot. Freedom of speech, you know.
"Anyway, Voldemort began recruiting. No one was entirely sure, at the time, what he was recruiting for. I suppose that everyone was just too na•ve to see what he was planning. Just months after stepping into the spotlight, Voldemort gained a large following of pure-blood wizards. That is, wizards whose family's are all magic. Many of them believed that Voldemort's bigoted approach to government and idealism was very correct.
"But Voldemort didn't stop there. With a small army of wizards, Voldemort set out to ally himself with the giants. The giants, though many still lived in England, were dying off by that time. And anyway, they were scorned by most wizards. You have to understand this - the greater majority of the wizarding community in those days was very, very bigoted, only they never admitted it. The giants, though often warlike, were sentient beings, capable of love, hate, and compassion, just like wizards...and the wizards were content to sit back and watch them die.
"Voldemort offered them life. He offered them equality. He made them believe that he was the only wizard in the world who would ever allow them to live, unrestricted. And maybe he was that, if nothing else good.
"With his army of wizards and giants, Voldemort had gained an incredible amount of power in just under a year.
"That's when the attack came.
"The Ministry of Magic was wholly unprepared for it. Despite knowing how much of a punch Voldemort could hit them with if he tried, the Ministry was just too na•ve to believe that he would ever do something that would destabilize the magical world like that.
:Voldemort's forces overran the wizarding prison, Azkaban, freeing several hundred highly dangerous convicts. What was worse, though, was that the prison guards, creatures called Dementors, decided to join him. Dementors feed on emotion, you see; they drain you of every happy thought you have, leaving you in despair. They realized that with Voldemort, they would get many more chances to satisfy their hunger than with the Ministry.
"And so, the war began."
"War? There was a war going on...and no one noticed it?" Willow asked.
"They noticed it," Wesley said, and it was obvious he was reliving something highly painful. "Voldemort's followers, who were later known as Death Eaters, killed muggles for fun. Yes, fun," he said, seeing the appalled looks about him.
"How come we never heard about all of it, then?" Xander asked.
"Memory charms," Wesley explained. "A type of magic that removes or modifies a person's memories of a particular time or event. I can't begin to tell you how many times the Ministry had to alter the memories of muggles, making them believe that they had seen their loved ones die in car accidents rather than murder..." he trailed off, and for a second, he seemed lost again. He snapped out of it quickly, though.
"Anyway, the war raged on...and on...for eleven years. Eleven years, as Auror's working for our side attempted to hunt down Voldemort and his supporters and capture them. Eleven years of sudden, gruesome deaths. Eleven years of losing friends and family," and now Wesley's voice was shaking. "It was unimaginable for those of you who haven't experienced it. Every day, we received word of someone else who died. Every day, it seemed I lost a friend.
"Then, all of a sudden, eleven years ago, Voldemort hit a large snag and fell from power."
"What happened?" Angel asked, speaking up for the first time.
"No one is quite sure. By that time, Voldemort, himself, controlled an almost limitless amount of Dark magic. To this day, we're not sure how strong he really was.
"It happened so suddenly that, at first, no one believed what they were hearing. Voldemort had gone to kill Lily and James Potter - a married couple who worked against Voldemort in an organization called the Order of the Phoenix. I, myself, was a part of the Order.
"Exactly what happened at the Potter's house, no one is quite sure. We do know that Voldemort killed Lily and James. Then, apparently, he turned on the Potter's infant son, Harry."
Willow sucked in a long, deep breath, as though she was going to be sick.
"Voldemort attempted to kill the child. But he could not. For some reason, Voldemort, arguably the strongest Dark wizard ever, could not kill a little boy. And because of whatever transpired there that night, Voldemort's power was broken. We thought he was dead.
"But now he's back."
Wesley finished his story and heaved an enormous sigh. For a second, no one even moved. It was really too much to take in at one time. Buffy found herself with at least twenty questions she wanted to ask, but she had no idea where to start.
Faith beat her to it. "What are they doing to fight this guy, Wes?" she asked, her face taking on the mask it wore whenever she was deeply concerned about something.
"I don't know. I was too dumbstruck to ask," he said, and kicked himself slightly.
"Think they could use some good old Slayer muscle?" Faith asked, getting up and looking intently at Wesley.
"Well...I don't know. This would be a much different fight then you're used to. Wizards don't fight hand to hand, you see. They duel, using their wands."
"All the better - if they don't expect it, then maybe they won't be able to defend against it," Faith said.
Faith turned to the group. Making sure that she stood beside Buffy, rather than in front of her, Faith addressed the group as a whole. "What do you think, everyone? There's a fight out there that needs fighting. This Voldemort guy is going to kill lots of people if someone doesn't stop him. The question you have to ask is, "do I want to stop him?"
She looked around expectantly. After a brief, awkward pause, Kennedy stepped forward. "I do," she said.
"Me too," Willow said, also stepping forward to stand beside Kennedy. Their hands interlocked briefly, so that only Faith, who'd been watching them gratefully, noticed.
Soon, the choruses of 'yes' and 'I will' become so numerous that the voices saying them became so indistinct that it sounded as though one entity was repeating, over and over.
"I do!"
Harry awoke the next morning, and immediately wondered where he was. Harry wasn't used to waking up in strange places - his cupboard, his room, his dorm at Hogwarts, and Ron's room were the only places he was used to awakening.
He was also unused to awaking with someone else sleeping beside him.
Slowly, the events of the night before came back to him, and Harry smiled. He settled back down slightly, and looked at Ginny, who was still asleep.
My, he thought to himself, as he watched her peaceful face. She has grown to be very beautiful. I wonder when that happened?
As he was thinking this, a strand of hair fell across her face. Harry brushed it back, and in doing so, woke Ginny up.
She, too, was a bit lost for a moment, but then she smiled and looked up at Harry. "Good morning," she said.
"Morning," he replied.
They both sat, looking at each other for a moment.
Growing uncomfortable with the silence, Harry asked, "Err...what do we do now?"
Ginny laughed. Soon, Harry joined in as well.
"Oh, this is ridiculous," Ginny said.
"Very," Harry agreed, through his laughter.
"We just slept together...I just slept with Harry Potter...and now he wants me to tell him what's next?" She just kept on laughing. Tears of mirth began to form.
"Oh, this isn't going to get us anywhere," Harry said. "I think I'll head up to Ron's room, and...take a shower...oh, no..." He trailed off.
"What?" Ginny asked.
"What am I going to tell your brother?" Harry asked.
"That you slept with is baby sister?" Ginny suggested.
"Yeah, right. You'll be cleaning up what's left of me with a toothbrush," Harry said, and Ginny smiled.
"I'm serious, Harry. You can tell him the truth," Ginny said, earnestly.
"Right," Harry said, looking at her sideways.
"Seriously!" she said. "Nothing happened, right? We slept together - big deal! It wasn't anything...well...you know..." she blushed, and Harry understood. He blushed too.
"I suppose you're right," he admitted. "But still, how do I explain...us?" he asked her.
"Us?" she asked him.
"Yes...you and me...whatever it is between us, now," Harry said.
"I don't know," she said. Then she grinned. "Think of something original."
"Yeah, right," Harry said. "I'll see you later, assuming that Ron doesn't murder me first."
"Right," she said as Harry exited the room and headed upstairs.
Something original, he thought. Give me a break.
When Harry reached Ron's door, he stopped. He reached for the knob, but then withdrew his hand. I can't go in there not knowing what to say, he thought to himself.
After pondering this at length, Harry reached once more for the knob. He stopped again.
"Having trouble with the door, Harry?" asked a voice from behind him. Harry turned around.
"Hermione!" he said. "It's so good to see you."
"You as well," she said. She smiled. "So...you and Ginny, huh?"
"What...?" he asked, dumbstruck. "How do you know about that?"
"I'd rather not say," Hermione said, in a haughty manner that didn't fool Harry for a second.
"Spill it," he said simply.
"Oh, all right," she said. "Fred and George's latest product - Extendable Eye's. You know, to go with the Extendable Ear's. We looked all over for you, and by then the only place we hadn't looked was Ginny's room, and so we did, and we saw you two...well..." she trailed off.
"Sleeping together?" he supplied.
"Yes," she said, and seemed slightly embarrassed by it.
"Hermione - nothing happened," Harry said.
"Oh, we know!" she exclaimed. "Gosh, Harry, I wasn't implying anything like that. Its just...well...you know how Ron can be. Even if you weren't...umm...getting too personal...you did seem very close. Ron was a bit...surprised," she said, choosing the final word with more caution then Harry liked.
"Surprised as in...he wants my head," Harry revised.
"I don't think so," Hermione said. "Harry...Ron has had a hard time thinking of his sister dating. And in the end, I suppose that he really wanted you two to get together. Now wait," she said, before he could interrupt. "Ron knows you, Harry. He trusts you. Even with his baby sister. Or at least, he figures that you're better than, say, Michael Corner."
"Yeah...I suppose," Harry said. "Still...what am I possibly going to say to him?"
"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "This the first time I've ever dealt with a situation like this."
"You've dealt -"
"Helped with," she amended quickly. "Really, Harry, I think you just act natural."
"Natural? Oh, right. 'Hey, Ron, how are things? Quidditch good last night? Sorry I couldn't make it - I was too busy sleeping with your baby sister. Catch you next time, though?'" Harry said, his tone of sarcasm as thick as a watermelon.
Hermione looked suddenly alarmed, so Harry asked, "What is it, Hermione?"
She pointed. 'It' was Ron, who had opened his bed room door about halfway through Harry's sarcastic speech. Harry's face went red, and then drained of all its color at a rather shocking velocity.
"Er...hi, Ron....sleep well?" Harry asked, his voice high pitched.
Ron didn't say anything.
Hermione tried to break the tension. "Uhh...nice weather, we're having, eh, Ron?" she asked.
Ron looked up at her, then back at Harry. He slowly opened his mouth. "I'm okay. Really. I just have one request to make of you about this whole relationship."
Harry became instantly nervous. What would Ron ask for?
"My request is this," Ron said, pointedly. "You guys never, under any circumstances, no matter what...you never kiss in front of me," he finished.
Harry grinned by way of response.
"I don't think you know just how incredibly strange my position is," Ron said, eyeing Harry's grin with the beginnings of amusement. "As your best friend, I'm inclined to be excited for you and congratulate you and ask how it went. After all, you slept with a girl," he stated. Somehow, he kept his face entirely straight. "As Ginny's older brother, I'm inclined to punch you in the nose."
"Which one will it be, then?" Harry asked.
"Neither," Ron said. "I told you, I'm okay with it. Just - no kissing. Not in front of me, anyway."
"Right," Harry said, his grin returning.
"Right," Ron said, and he grinned.
Damn, he thought. I wasn't going to do that!
"Breakfast?" Hermione asked, moving down the stairs.
"Yes, definitely," Harry said, and Ron nodded.
When the three of them arrived downstairs, Mrs. Weasley had already begun cooking. She seemed slightly better than she had the day before. She'd gotten over it enough to put on a smile when Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered, anyway.
"Good morning, dears," she said, and though her smile seemed a bit weak and forced, it was still there. "Sleep well?"
Both Hermione and Ron shot Harry furtive looks. "Yes, Mrs. Weasley," he replied. "Like a stone."
Hermione turned her laugh into a cough at the last second.
"Well, that's good," Mrs. Weasley said. "What would you like for breakfast? Some eggs? Toast? A bagel, perhaps?"
"Eggs," Ron replied, and both Hermione and Harry voiced their consent to eggs, as well.
Mr. Weasley was sleeping in, Mrs. Weasley explained. He'd gotten work off for a few days, to recover. She left shortly after this explanation to bring him some breakfast.
Shortly thereafter, Ginny came quietly down the stairs, and, with a small, soft greeting to Ron and Hermione, sat down next to Harry. Mrs. Weasley arrived back a few minutes later, and though she noticed Harry and Ginny's rather close proximity, she didn't mention anything.
The house had never seemed quite so empty. With Fred and George living at their new premises, and Bill, Charlie, and Percy each with homes in various parts of the world, the Burrow was now inhabited by Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. The most unpleasant consequence of this was the increase in chores and other menial workloads. Harry had never realized how quickly gnomes managed to get back into the Weasley's garden.
Even thus, Harry found that the next week went by in a blur. It was a week later that it happened.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had gone out to play Quidditch, not only for fun, but also so that Ginny could get some practice in before tryouts. Things were going exceptionally well, at first. Ginny, who had always shown a great proficiency at flying anyway, was improving with an almost alarming speed. As she and Hermione zoomed around, passing and shooting on Ron, Harry was hovering a good distance away, shouting instructions and critiques to Ginny.
"Good, good!...Now keep your balance...don't lean to one side too much, Ginny...keep the Quaffle tucked under your arm, now...okay...put your whole body into the shot...don't forget to lead the person you're passing to...come on, Ginny, you can throw harder than that..."
So she did. She threw the Quaffle with such velocity, in fact, that Ron was nearly knocked off his broom by the wake of the thing. It hit a tree and snapped a branch off.
"Wow, Ginny - that was some shot," Harry said, coming up besides her.
Ron turned back towards them. He was red faced and panting. "Could we call it an afternoon? I'm beat. Maybe you have a limitless store of energy, Ginny, but I guess I'm just a lowly human."
When Ginny, smiling, nodded, Ron quickly descended and rolled off his broom. Hermione, who had landed as well, went over to help him up.
Hermione looked up and grinned, widely. "I think I'll bring Ron up to the house - why don't you two continue the practice without us?"
Without waiting for an answer, Hermione led Ron away. They quickly crested the hill and were out of sight.
Ginny sidled up beside Harry. "What do you think of those two?"
"What about them?" Harry replied, slightly puzzled.
"Well, I can't decide if Hermione wanted to get us alone," Ginny said, with a slight blush. "or if she wanted to be alone with my brother."
"What?" Harry asked, now perplexed but more than a little curious.
Instead of answering she dove for the ground and hopped off her broom, eventually coming to rest laying on the ground. Harry joined her.
"Don't be silly, Harry," she said. "You must have noticed it by now."
"Noticed what?" Harry said, feeling a slight anger that disappeared immediately. She was enjoying keeping information from him.
"That Hermione," Ginny said, importantly. "Fancies my brother."
Harry was stricken.
"You're kidding, right?" he asked.
"No, of course I'm not," Ginny said, and now she was serious. "I wouldn't joke about something that would hurt their feelings like that."
"Of course," Harry said, as though Ginny's thoughtfulness was something so expected that he could afford to take it for granted. "But that doesn't mean I'm any less shocked."
Ginny's grin reappeared. "You just have to know what signs to look for in a girl, Harry," she said. He drew his arm around Ginny's shoulders, and her grin widened.
"Oh, really? What signs?" Harry asked. He was getting more and more used to the idea that Ginny was now his girlfriend.
Ginny laid her head back against his shoulder. "Oh, you wouldn't understand. You're too much of a boy," she said.
"Yeah," Harry replied, and decided to attempt a joke. "I thought you liked me that way."
Ginny's laughter was sudden and loud.
"Lets see," Harry said, mocking thoughtfulness. "Could one of the signs possibly be...ticklishness?"
It stands to reason that this was followed by tickling. Later, Harry would reflect on how comfortable he'd grown with Ginny in order to touch her like that.
"Oh, Harry, stop!" she yelled, through laughter that was half tickling-induced, half not.
"Or...what?" Harry said, and stepped up the attack.
"Oh...oh, no..." Ginny was in convulsions now.
Suddenly, Harry stopped and withdrew his hands. "Sorry," he said, grinning. "Couldn't help myself." Wiping away tears of mirth, Ginny punched his shoulder playfully.
Ginny would recall, later that day, that she heard a distinct cracking noise; Harry had no such memory, but that was hardly surprising. Ginny's playful punch, something that would have hardly been enough to knock over a cup from her perspective, and popped Harry's shoulder out of its joint.
Looking down at his newly disjointed arm, Harry barely had time to say, "Oh, damn..." before the pain started.
Harry had experienced sudden, unexpected physical pain before. That, in no way, meant that this hurt any less.
"Oh, Harry!" Ginny exclaimed sharply, her grin gone without a trace, as Harry cried out in pain. "I...I didn't mean...I mean, I didn't...oh, dear...oh, dear...I really didn't, I swear...oh, this is dreadful..."
"Ginny!" Harry said, forcefully, through his gritted teeth. "Get a grip on yourself! Your mom can probably fix this in a second."
Ginny took a shuddering, deep breath, and then exhaled, slowly. "Right," she said. "Lets get you up to the house."
Together, nursing his oddly protruding arm, Harry made his way up to the Burrow, with Ginny next to him, casting worried looks at him.
Wesley withdrew from the fire. Actually, he fell backwards an landed on his back, scattering those Slayers who had been standing immediately behind him.
"Well?" Buffy asked, for she and the others hadn't been able to hear the conversation. "Will he help us?"
Wesley didn't answer. He looked slightly dumfounded.
"Hello? Earth to Wesley!" Faith said.
"Oh, yes...right, of course. Err..." he seemed lost for words. "He wasn't there."
"So...does he have a home number, too?" Buffy asked, attempting some light humor. If Wesley even recognized the concept of humor, he hid the recognition well.
"No, you misunderstand," he said. "That was the wrong fireplace."
Despite regaining his ability to speak in coherent sentences, Wesley still seemed lost.
"Wesley - are you all right?" Willow asked, with some concern.
"No. I am most definitely not 'all right'," he said, and Buffy felt a slight tingle of...was that fear? Wesley had never seemed so out of it before.
"What's wrong?" Buffy asked, slowly.
"He's - back," Wesley said.
"Who? This Dumbledore guy?" asked Xander, the confusion in his voice speaking for the whole crowd.
"No. Oh, this is terrible. I...oh, no," Wesley said, and Buffy's sense of alarm grew. As she looked around, she noticed the growing looks of concern on all assembled.
"Wesley, what is the matter?" She asked, with enough conviction to pull Wesley out of his haze.
"This is going to take a while to explain," he said, glancing at the group.
"We seem to have a while," Buffy said.
"Yes. Yes, all right. I'll tell you. I need not warn you that this is not for the faint hearted, because I doubt that any of you are faint hearted.
"Nearly twenty-seven years ago, a wizard named Voldemort came into the public light. He was a fanatic, preaching hatred of non magic folk, or muggles, and muggle-born wizards. He also preached disdain for those wizards who married muggles, as well.
"Voldemort gained power at an alarming rate. The Ministry, of course, could do nothing to stop him - he was well within his rights to say whatever he pleased about muggles and muggle-borns and whatnot. Freedom of speech, you know.
"Anyway, Voldemort began recruiting. No one was entirely sure, at the time, what he was recruiting for. I suppose that everyone was just too na•ve to see what he was planning. Just months after stepping into the spotlight, Voldemort gained a large following of pure-blood wizards. That is, wizards whose family's are all magic. Many of them believed that Voldemort's bigoted approach to government and idealism was very correct.
"But Voldemort didn't stop there. With a small army of wizards, Voldemort set out to ally himself with the giants. The giants, though many still lived in England, were dying off by that time. And anyway, they were scorned by most wizards. You have to understand this - the greater majority of the wizarding community in those days was very, very bigoted, only they never admitted it. The giants, though often warlike, were sentient beings, capable of love, hate, and compassion, just like wizards...and the wizards were content to sit back and watch them die.
"Voldemort offered them life. He offered them equality. He made them believe that he was the only wizard in the world who would ever allow them to live, unrestricted. And maybe he was that, if nothing else good.
"With his army of wizards and giants, Voldemort had gained an incredible amount of power in just under a year.
"That's when the attack came.
"The Ministry of Magic was wholly unprepared for it. Despite knowing how much of a punch Voldemort could hit them with if he tried, the Ministry was just too na•ve to believe that he would ever do something that would destabilize the magical world like that.
:Voldemort's forces overran the wizarding prison, Azkaban, freeing several hundred highly dangerous convicts. What was worse, though, was that the prison guards, creatures called Dementors, decided to join him. Dementors feed on emotion, you see; they drain you of every happy thought you have, leaving you in despair. They realized that with Voldemort, they would get many more chances to satisfy their hunger than with the Ministry.
"And so, the war began."
"War? There was a war going on...and no one noticed it?" Willow asked.
"They noticed it," Wesley said, and it was obvious he was reliving something highly painful. "Voldemort's followers, who were later known as Death Eaters, killed muggles for fun. Yes, fun," he said, seeing the appalled looks about him.
"How come we never heard about all of it, then?" Xander asked.
"Memory charms," Wesley explained. "A type of magic that removes or modifies a person's memories of a particular time or event. I can't begin to tell you how many times the Ministry had to alter the memories of muggles, making them believe that they had seen their loved ones die in car accidents rather than murder..." he trailed off, and for a second, he seemed lost again. He snapped out of it quickly, though.
"Anyway, the war raged on...and on...for eleven years. Eleven years, as Auror's working for our side attempted to hunt down Voldemort and his supporters and capture them. Eleven years of sudden, gruesome deaths. Eleven years of losing friends and family," and now Wesley's voice was shaking. "It was unimaginable for those of you who haven't experienced it. Every day, we received word of someone else who died. Every day, it seemed I lost a friend.
"Then, all of a sudden, eleven years ago, Voldemort hit a large snag and fell from power."
"What happened?" Angel asked, speaking up for the first time.
"No one is quite sure. By that time, Voldemort, himself, controlled an almost limitless amount of Dark magic. To this day, we're not sure how strong he really was.
"It happened so suddenly that, at first, no one believed what they were hearing. Voldemort had gone to kill Lily and James Potter - a married couple who worked against Voldemort in an organization called the Order of the Phoenix. I, myself, was a part of the Order.
"Exactly what happened at the Potter's house, no one is quite sure. We do know that Voldemort killed Lily and James. Then, apparently, he turned on the Potter's infant son, Harry."
Willow sucked in a long, deep breath, as though she was going to be sick.
"Voldemort attempted to kill the child. But he could not. For some reason, Voldemort, arguably the strongest Dark wizard ever, could not kill a little boy. And because of whatever transpired there that night, Voldemort's power was broken. We thought he was dead.
"But now he's back."
Wesley finished his story and heaved an enormous sigh. For a second, no one even moved. It was really too much to take in at one time. Buffy found herself with at least twenty questions she wanted to ask, but she had no idea where to start.
Faith beat her to it. "What are they doing to fight this guy, Wes?" she asked, her face taking on the mask it wore whenever she was deeply concerned about something.
"I don't know. I was too dumbstruck to ask," he said, and kicked himself slightly.
"Think they could use some good old Slayer muscle?" Faith asked, getting up and looking intently at Wesley.
"Well...I don't know. This would be a much different fight then you're used to. Wizards don't fight hand to hand, you see. They duel, using their wands."
"All the better - if they don't expect it, then maybe they won't be able to defend against it," Faith said.
Faith turned to the group. Making sure that she stood beside Buffy, rather than in front of her, Faith addressed the group as a whole. "What do you think, everyone? There's a fight out there that needs fighting. This Voldemort guy is going to kill lots of people if someone doesn't stop him. The question you have to ask is, "do I want to stop him?"
She looked around expectantly. After a brief, awkward pause, Kennedy stepped forward. "I do," she said.
"Me too," Willow said, also stepping forward to stand beside Kennedy. Their hands interlocked briefly, so that only Faith, who'd been watching them gratefully, noticed.
Soon, the choruses of 'yes' and 'I will' become so numerous that the voices saying them became so indistinct that it sounded as though one entity was repeating, over and over.
"I do!"
Harry awoke the next morning, and immediately wondered where he was. Harry wasn't used to waking up in strange places - his cupboard, his room, his dorm at Hogwarts, and Ron's room were the only places he was used to awakening.
He was also unused to awaking with someone else sleeping beside him.
Slowly, the events of the night before came back to him, and Harry smiled. He settled back down slightly, and looked at Ginny, who was still asleep.
My, he thought to himself, as he watched her peaceful face. She has grown to be very beautiful. I wonder when that happened?
As he was thinking this, a strand of hair fell across her face. Harry brushed it back, and in doing so, woke Ginny up.
She, too, was a bit lost for a moment, but then she smiled and looked up at Harry. "Good morning," she said.
"Morning," he replied.
They both sat, looking at each other for a moment.
Growing uncomfortable with the silence, Harry asked, "Err...what do we do now?"
Ginny laughed. Soon, Harry joined in as well.
"Oh, this is ridiculous," Ginny said.
"Very," Harry agreed, through his laughter.
"We just slept together...I just slept with Harry Potter...and now he wants me to tell him what's next?" She just kept on laughing. Tears of mirth began to form.
"Oh, this isn't going to get us anywhere," Harry said. "I think I'll head up to Ron's room, and...take a shower...oh, no..." He trailed off.
"What?" Ginny asked.
"What am I going to tell your brother?" Harry asked.
"That you slept with is baby sister?" Ginny suggested.
"Yeah, right. You'll be cleaning up what's left of me with a toothbrush," Harry said, and Ginny smiled.
"I'm serious, Harry. You can tell him the truth," Ginny said, earnestly.
"Right," Harry said, looking at her sideways.
"Seriously!" she said. "Nothing happened, right? We slept together - big deal! It wasn't anything...well...you know..." she blushed, and Harry understood. He blushed too.
"I suppose you're right," he admitted. "But still, how do I explain...us?" he asked her.
"Us?" she asked him.
"Yes...you and me...whatever it is between us, now," Harry said.
"I don't know," she said. Then she grinned. "Think of something original."
"Yeah, right," Harry said. "I'll see you later, assuming that Ron doesn't murder me first."
"Right," she said as Harry exited the room and headed upstairs.
Something original, he thought. Give me a break.
When Harry reached Ron's door, he stopped. He reached for the knob, but then withdrew his hand. I can't go in there not knowing what to say, he thought to himself.
After pondering this at length, Harry reached once more for the knob. He stopped again.
"Having trouble with the door, Harry?" asked a voice from behind him. Harry turned around.
"Hermione!" he said. "It's so good to see you."
"You as well," she said. She smiled. "So...you and Ginny, huh?"
"What...?" he asked, dumbstruck. "How do you know about that?"
"I'd rather not say," Hermione said, in a haughty manner that didn't fool Harry for a second.
"Spill it," he said simply.
"Oh, all right," she said. "Fred and George's latest product - Extendable Eye's. You know, to go with the Extendable Ear's. We looked all over for you, and by then the only place we hadn't looked was Ginny's room, and so we did, and we saw you two...well..." she trailed off.
"Sleeping together?" he supplied.
"Yes," she said, and seemed slightly embarrassed by it.
"Hermione - nothing happened," Harry said.
"Oh, we know!" she exclaimed. "Gosh, Harry, I wasn't implying anything like that. Its just...well...you know how Ron can be. Even if you weren't...umm...getting too personal...you did seem very close. Ron was a bit...surprised," she said, choosing the final word with more caution then Harry liked.
"Surprised as in...he wants my head," Harry revised.
"I don't think so," Hermione said. "Harry...Ron has had a hard time thinking of his sister dating. And in the end, I suppose that he really wanted you two to get together. Now wait," she said, before he could interrupt. "Ron knows you, Harry. He trusts you. Even with his baby sister. Or at least, he figures that you're better than, say, Michael Corner."
"Yeah...I suppose," Harry said. "Still...what am I possibly going to say to him?"
"I don't know," Hermione admitted. "This the first time I've ever dealt with a situation like this."
"You've dealt -"
"Helped with," she amended quickly. "Really, Harry, I think you just act natural."
"Natural? Oh, right. 'Hey, Ron, how are things? Quidditch good last night? Sorry I couldn't make it - I was too busy sleeping with your baby sister. Catch you next time, though?'" Harry said, his tone of sarcasm as thick as a watermelon.
Hermione looked suddenly alarmed, so Harry asked, "What is it, Hermione?"
She pointed. 'It' was Ron, who had opened his bed room door about halfway through Harry's sarcastic speech. Harry's face went red, and then drained of all its color at a rather shocking velocity.
"Er...hi, Ron....sleep well?" Harry asked, his voice high pitched.
Ron didn't say anything.
Hermione tried to break the tension. "Uhh...nice weather, we're having, eh, Ron?" she asked.
Ron looked up at her, then back at Harry. He slowly opened his mouth. "I'm okay. Really. I just have one request to make of you about this whole relationship."
Harry became instantly nervous. What would Ron ask for?
"My request is this," Ron said, pointedly. "You guys never, under any circumstances, no matter what...you never kiss in front of me," he finished.
Harry grinned by way of response.
"I don't think you know just how incredibly strange my position is," Ron said, eyeing Harry's grin with the beginnings of amusement. "As your best friend, I'm inclined to be excited for you and congratulate you and ask how it went. After all, you slept with a girl," he stated. Somehow, he kept his face entirely straight. "As Ginny's older brother, I'm inclined to punch you in the nose."
"Which one will it be, then?" Harry asked.
"Neither," Ron said. "I told you, I'm okay with it. Just - no kissing. Not in front of me, anyway."
"Right," Harry said, his grin returning.
"Right," Ron said, and he grinned.
Damn, he thought. I wasn't going to do that!
"Breakfast?" Hermione asked, moving down the stairs.
"Yes, definitely," Harry said, and Ron nodded.
When the three of them arrived downstairs, Mrs. Weasley had already begun cooking. She seemed slightly better than she had the day before. She'd gotten over it enough to put on a smile when Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered, anyway.
"Good morning, dears," she said, and though her smile seemed a bit weak and forced, it was still there. "Sleep well?"
Both Hermione and Ron shot Harry furtive looks. "Yes, Mrs. Weasley," he replied. "Like a stone."
Hermione turned her laugh into a cough at the last second.
"Well, that's good," Mrs. Weasley said. "What would you like for breakfast? Some eggs? Toast? A bagel, perhaps?"
"Eggs," Ron replied, and both Hermione and Harry voiced their consent to eggs, as well.
Mr. Weasley was sleeping in, Mrs. Weasley explained. He'd gotten work off for a few days, to recover. She left shortly after this explanation to bring him some breakfast.
Shortly thereafter, Ginny came quietly down the stairs, and, with a small, soft greeting to Ron and Hermione, sat down next to Harry. Mrs. Weasley arrived back a few minutes later, and though she noticed Harry and Ginny's rather close proximity, she didn't mention anything.
The house had never seemed quite so empty. With Fred and George living at their new premises, and Bill, Charlie, and Percy each with homes in various parts of the world, the Burrow was now inhabited by Harry, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. The most unpleasant consequence of this was the increase in chores and other menial workloads. Harry had never realized how quickly gnomes managed to get back into the Weasley's garden.
Even thus, Harry found that the next week went by in a blur. It was a week later that it happened.
Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Ginny had gone out to play Quidditch, not only for fun, but also so that Ginny could get some practice in before tryouts. Things were going exceptionally well, at first. Ginny, who had always shown a great proficiency at flying anyway, was improving with an almost alarming speed. As she and Hermione zoomed around, passing and shooting on Ron, Harry was hovering a good distance away, shouting instructions and critiques to Ginny.
"Good, good!...Now keep your balance...don't lean to one side too much, Ginny...keep the Quaffle tucked under your arm, now...okay...put your whole body into the shot...don't forget to lead the person you're passing to...come on, Ginny, you can throw harder than that..."
So she did. She threw the Quaffle with such velocity, in fact, that Ron was nearly knocked off his broom by the wake of the thing. It hit a tree and snapped a branch off.
"Wow, Ginny - that was some shot," Harry said, coming up besides her.
Ron turned back towards them. He was red faced and panting. "Could we call it an afternoon? I'm beat. Maybe you have a limitless store of energy, Ginny, but I guess I'm just a lowly human."
When Ginny, smiling, nodded, Ron quickly descended and rolled off his broom. Hermione, who had landed as well, went over to help him up.
Hermione looked up and grinned, widely. "I think I'll bring Ron up to the house - why don't you two continue the practice without us?"
Without waiting for an answer, Hermione led Ron away. They quickly crested the hill and were out of sight.
Ginny sidled up beside Harry. "What do you think of those two?"
"What about them?" Harry replied, slightly puzzled.
"Well, I can't decide if Hermione wanted to get us alone," Ginny said, with a slight blush. "or if she wanted to be alone with my brother."
"What?" Harry asked, now perplexed but more than a little curious.
Instead of answering she dove for the ground and hopped off her broom, eventually coming to rest laying on the ground. Harry joined her.
"Don't be silly, Harry," she said. "You must have noticed it by now."
"Noticed what?" Harry said, feeling a slight anger that disappeared immediately. She was enjoying keeping information from him.
"That Hermione," Ginny said, importantly. "Fancies my brother."
Harry was stricken.
"You're kidding, right?" he asked.
"No, of course I'm not," Ginny said, and now she was serious. "I wouldn't joke about something that would hurt their feelings like that."
"Of course," Harry said, as though Ginny's thoughtfulness was something so expected that he could afford to take it for granted. "But that doesn't mean I'm any less shocked."
Ginny's grin reappeared. "You just have to know what signs to look for in a girl, Harry," she said. He drew his arm around Ginny's shoulders, and her grin widened.
"Oh, really? What signs?" Harry asked. He was getting more and more used to the idea that Ginny was now his girlfriend.
Ginny laid her head back against his shoulder. "Oh, you wouldn't understand. You're too much of a boy," she said.
"Yeah," Harry replied, and decided to attempt a joke. "I thought you liked me that way."
Ginny's laughter was sudden and loud.
"Lets see," Harry said, mocking thoughtfulness. "Could one of the signs possibly be...ticklishness?"
It stands to reason that this was followed by tickling. Later, Harry would reflect on how comfortable he'd grown with Ginny in order to touch her like that.
"Oh, Harry, stop!" she yelled, through laughter that was half tickling-induced, half not.
"Or...what?" Harry said, and stepped up the attack.
"Oh...oh, no..." Ginny was in convulsions now.
Suddenly, Harry stopped and withdrew his hands. "Sorry," he said, grinning. "Couldn't help myself." Wiping away tears of mirth, Ginny punched his shoulder playfully.
Ginny would recall, later that day, that she heard a distinct cracking noise; Harry had no such memory, but that was hardly surprising. Ginny's playful punch, something that would have hardly been enough to knock over a cup from her perspective, and popped Harry's shoulder out of its joint.
Looking down at his newly disjointed arm, Harry barely had time to say, "Oh, damn..." before the pain started.
Harry had experienced sudden, unexpected physical pain before. That, in no way, meant that this hurt any less.
"Oh, Harry!" Ginny exclaimed sharply, her grin gone without a trace, as Harry cried out in pain. "I...I didn't mean...I mean, I didn't...oh, dear...oh, dear...I really didn't, I swear...oh, this is dreadful..."
"Ginny!" Harry said, forcefully, through his gritted teeth. "Get a grip on yourself! Your mom can probably fix this in a second."
Ginny took a shuddering, deep breath, and then exhaled, slowly. "Right," she said. "Lets get you up to the house."
Together, nursing his oddly protruding arm, Harry made his way up to the Burrow, with Ginny next to him, casting worried looks at him.