To Moira-Angela Darling- Are you into Peter Pan, Wendy?

Harry wiped his forehead and once again marveled at how much the twins had in their warehouse like shed. The group had been working for over four hours, and they were still shifting boxes and bringing inventory back to the house.

"No, no, not that one." Fred was saying to Quentin, who was holding a large box in his huge arms. "The one behind it. The one your holding if full of Canary Creams. We want the one with the Blazing Infernos."

Harry had no idea why the twins wanted some particular things, but he trusted them to know more about their business than he did. Harry had told them to bring supplies needed to make weapons, but he didn't have the first idea of what was necessary to do so. The twins seemed pretty confident that they could make anything Harry would want.

Most of the boxes weighed so much that only Quentin could lift them. Hours ago, he had stripped off his shirt and was now working with the top half of his body bare. With a grunt, Quentin lifted the box that Fred had been pointing to and began carrying it back to the house. Sweat ran down his body, but he didn't complain. Quentin seemed pleased to help in any way he could.

They finished around 1:30. They all sat down on the tables that the Weasley's had in their back yard. Sweating and exhausted, no one spoke for a while. Finally, George reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Who wants one?" he asked. Fred reached over pulled a cigarette out of the pack and put it into his mouth.

"When did you two start smoking?" Harry asked the twins.

George snorted. "We don't smoke, really. I've had this pack for almost a month. It just that sometimes work gets stressful, and we have to take the edge off."

"I'll have one." Harry said. It certainly had been stressful, lately. He saw Ginny's shocked look, and shrugged.

Her eyes tightened slightly. "Me too." she said levelly. She gave Harry a look that said, 'Ha!'.

In the end, Fred, George, Harry, Ginny and Quentin all took cigarettes. Hermione and Susan declined politely. They passed around George's wand to light them. A small flame had burst out of the tip and it lit the cigarettes easily. There was a moment or two of silence as they puffed. Finally, Ginny said, "This is pretty gross."

Harry had to agree. The smoke burned on its way down and left a horrible taste in his mouth, making him want to spit. The only thing that kept him going was way Fred, George and Quentin seemed to be enjoying theirs. He didn't want to look like a sissy.

"No, no, Ginny." Fred said. "You're not doing it right. You're supposed to suck on it like it's a straw. The smoke will just go straight to your lungs."

Ginny tried doing what Fred told her. Her eyes bulged and she began coughing, smoke exiting her mouth with each cough. The twins laughed until their sides hurt. Harry couldn't help but smile. Leave it to the twins to lighten up any situation.

"So, Quentin, you're from Florida?" George asked.

Quentin nodded. "Yep. Born in Florida, but I've been spending most of my time in Montana. At school."

"What's Stillwater like?"

Harry listened with interest. He didn't know all that much about Quentin's past.

"Stillwater's great. The people there are nice, really nice."

"Are there houses, like at Hogwarts?"

"No. We're just split up by our sex. All the male first years take classes with other male first years, and so on."

Fred laughed. "That must drive you crazy. Not taking classes with the ladies."

Quentin shrugged. "It's not that bad. We still eat meals and hang out in the common room with the girls. I doubt I could concentrate enough to do well in school if I took classes with girls.

Harry snorted and did his best impression of the twins. "Bah! There's more to school to doing well."

Everyone laughed and Fred gave Harry a standing ovation.

George nodded seriously. "Exactly! Where do you think my counterpart and I would be if we had taken school seriously?"

Ginny smiled. "You'd probably have real jobs."

"Exactly!" George said. "We would be cooped up behind some desk, pushing a quill all day. But look at us! We make jokes and sell them to general stores. I guarantee that next year, when you go to Hogsmeade, we will make half the things you buy there. The Weasleys!"

"And they said we would never make something of ourselves." George said with a wide smile. "In your face, Snape! Always yelling at us to get our act together. "

By this time, everyone was smiling at the twin's tirade. They were only half-serious, as always. George stood up and attempted a handstand, but was foiled when smoke from his cigarette got in his eyes. He fell to the ground and looked despairingly at his cigarette, which had been crushed in his fall. "Bad for you, anyway.", he said and threw the cigarette into the grass by him.

Fred looked over to Hermione, who had seemed depressed. "So, Hermione, you and my brother, huh?"

Hermione looked Fred in the eye when she said, "Yes, Fred."

Fred shrugged. "I knew it. Everybody knew. Of course, we all took bets on how long it would take for the two of you to realize it."

George, who had made his way back to the table said, "I was way off. I bet you would figure it out sometime during you third year at Hogwarts."

Hermione seemed shocked. "Wait a minute, when did you make these bets?"

George thought back. "I think it was right after the Malfoy-Mudblood-Slug incident. We saw the anger in little Ronnie-kins face when he came to your defense. It was love, if I ever saw it."

Hermione's chin dropped to her chest. "He's always been protecting me, hasn't he? Why couldn't I see it sooner?"

George sat down next to Hermione and put an arm around her shoulder. "Sooner? You lost me a deck of Exploding Snap by seeing it so soon! I bet that you two would be well out of Hogwarts before you realized you loved each other. This Fredo Rizzi character owes me big time."

Hermione smiled at George's attempt at humor. She reached into her pocket and pulled out something. She put it on the table in front of her.

Harry squinted to see what it was in the pale light of the moon. His breath caught in his throat when he realized what it was. Ron's Sentinel pin.

"Hermione? Where did you get that." Harry asked.

"McGonagall found it on Ron's torn robes. She gave it to me when I got back."

Harry knew that only he, Susan and Hermione knew what it was. The twins, Quentin, and Ginny looked clueless, but they kept their mouths shut. They saw how close to tears Hermione was.

Hermione traced a finger along the sides of the pin. "He's always been protecting me."

Everyone felt a little uncomfortable. They had no idea of how to comfort her.

George forced a laugh. "Don't worry, sweetie. We'll have your lover boy out of there in no time."

Hermione nodded solemnly. "Yeah." she said without much conviction. "I think I'll go to bed."

"Sure, Herm." Ginny said. "You can sleep in my room."

Hermione pushed herself away from the table. "No. I'll sleep in Ron's room."

No one said anything as she walked away.

Quentin, who had done most of the work that night, seemed exhausted. "I'll go to bed, too."

Fred nodded. "You can sleep in our room. I'll show you the way."

They both got up and walked toward the house.

George pulled out another cigarette and lit it. He was silent a minute before he spoke again. "We are going to get him out of there, aren't we?", he asked as if Harry's confirmation made it a fact.

Harry nodded. "If your father finds out the location of where they're keeping him, we'll try. It won't be easy, but Ron means too much for us to not try." Harry smiled sadly. "Besides, Hermione will try and break him out on her own if we don't help."

George turned to Susan, who hadn't spoken much of the night. "So, what's your story?"

Susan's eyebrows lifted slightly. "My story?"

"Yeah." George said. "This project will probably be the most dangerous thing we've ever done, and that's saying a lot. One does not go into something like this for nothing. Why are you doing it? Out of the goodness of your heart like Quentin, or do you have some other reason?"

Susan didn't back down from the straightforward question. "I have my reasons." Her eyes went to Harry for a split-second, than returned to George.

What's going on?, Harry thought.

George smiled knowingly. "Oh, I see." His eyes went to Ginny, who looked as clueless as Harry felt. He looked back to Susan, who nodded sadly.

George laughed suddenly. "Holy shit. This could get ugly." He laughed again and put his cigarette out on the table. "Well, I'll leave you three alone to figure it out. Just don't kill each other."

He patted Harry on the shoulder and leaned in to whisper in his ear. "There are many worse things than having the love of two women. Like choosing between the two" He lightly slapped Harry on the cheek and walked toward the house, laughing every few steps.

Harry finally realized what George had been talking about. How hadn't he seen it earlier? He suddenly felt uncomfortable sitting in between Susan and Ginny. He searched for something to say, but he couldn't think of anything.

Ginny, still not realizing what a volatile situation the three of them were in, asked, "What about your school, Susan. Is it nice there?"

Susan nodded. "It's my home. I've been there since I was ten."

"That young? Why? We don't start until we're eleven."

"There is no set age at which you start in Salem. It is a school for girls with troubled pasts."

Harry remembered what Quentin had said about the molestations, rapes and beatings, but Ginny hadn't heard any of that yet.

"What do you mean, troubled?" Ginny asked.

"I mean that we have all had certain experiences. Usually at the hands of men."

Ginny still didn't understand and was about to ask further, but Harry kicked her under the table. She looked at him and Harry gave her a meaningful look. Realization passed over her face and she blushed until she was about the color of her hair.

"That's horrible.", she said quietly.

Without looking at Ginny, Susan nodded.

Ginny seemed very uncomfortable when she said, "So...what happened to you?"

Harry would have kicked Ginny again if he hadn't been wondering the same thing for some time now.

Ginny seemed to realize how disturbing her question was because she said, "I'm sorry. You don't have to answer that."

"No, it's OK." Susan said. "I haven't really talked about it for years. It doesn't hurt as much anymore."

Harry knew that Susan was putting on a strong face for their benefit.

"When I was eight, my mother and father got a divorce. My father was a good man, a good wizard He never once hurt me. My mother, who was a Muggle, didn't get along with him. He was probably the first person in her life that she couldn't boss around. She saw his magic as a quick way to make money. When my father didn't see it her way, he left. My mother married another wizard. He didn't have as many scruples as my father. He used his magic to steal."

Susan looked up into the night sky, her white lock glowing faintly in the moonlight. "He was a bad man. I was eight years old when he first noticed me. I didn't understand what he wanted with me. He would ask me to sit on his lap. I didn't really know what was happening. His hands would run along my entire body. This was the only time he would ever touch me, even notice me. I missed my father and I thought that this man had become my new father. I began to look forward to sitting on his lap. Not because I liked it but because when he held me, I could imagine he was my real father."

Ginny was horrified. "What did your mother do?"

Susan snorted. "She didn't care. As long as he was bringing in the money, my mother would let him do anything he wanted, to either of us. He beat my mother, but she didn't mind all that much. She was more well of than she had ever been. She could deal with an occasional black eye. It wasn't until I was ten that I began to understand what he was doing to me. I started refusing to get on his lap. And that's when he got rough."

Harry felt an amazing amount of anger at this unknown man. He remembered his early childhood and how he had thought he had it bad. Being locked in a closet under the stairs was nothing compared to what Susan had had to deal with.

Susan gripped her sleeve covered forearm and to Harry it looked like she was remembering her stepfather's finger's, there.

"But then a teacher from Salem came to my house. She told me I had magic like both my fathers. My mother didn't want to let me go. I don't know why; she didn't love me. I think it was that something was happening beyond her control, and that really bothered her. But in the end, I was taken to Salem and taught magic. I've lived there ever since."

Harry put his arm around Susan's shoulders. She flinched away for a moment, but then laid her head on Harry's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Susan." Harry said, not knowing what else to say.

Harry felt her tremble for a moment. Tears began to slide down her cheeks and onto Harry's shoulder. She whispered something under her breath and to Harry it sounded like, "Why do have to be so nice?"

Harry wasn't sure he was supposed to hear it, so he didn't answer. "I think we all need to go to bed." he said and helped Susan to her feet.

Ginny nodded and said, "You can sleep in my room, Susan."

Susan just nodded her thanks, still too choked up to speak.

Ginny turned to Harry. "I suppose you could sleep in Ron's room."

Harry shook his head. "No. Hermione should be alone tonight. I'll sleep on the couch."

Ginny nodded and took Susan's hand and led her back to the house. Harry watched the two of them leave. It was strange to see Susan and Ginny together like that.

Harry sat out in the lawn for a few more minutes and then went into the house. He settled down into the old couch. Like everything in the Weasley house, it was very comfortable. Even so, sleep did not come. He looked at his wristwatch, and saw that it was only eight o'clock in Florida. He hadn't adjusted to the time change, and was wide-awake.

Harry couldn't believe that he was the object of two beautiful girls' affections. He thought about each girl ands how he felt about both of them. When he was around Susan, he felt his heart pound at a thousand miles an hour. He had difficulty speaking and he felt like he had two left feet. He had never felt that way about anyone, not even Cho Chang, who had seemed way out of his league. She had liked him before she had even known his real name. She was everything he had ever wanted in a girl.

Harry had always thought that Ginny had given up her childish infatuation with him. Maybe she had. It was clear she was no longer in love with Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived. Over the years, she had gotten to know Harry, and there was no way she still could have had that misconstrued adoration.

It was completely different when he was around Ginny. His heart didn't pound and he didn't have trouble talking. He was completely at ease when she walked into the room. He could say anything to her. He didn't have to pretend to be someone else. When times got rough, she didn't expect him to solve all the world's problems, like everyone else. When he was down, she would come and talk to him. She could take a joke and when the time came, she could be forced into action. She had no trouble speaking her mind, no matter who it hurt. She was real.

It was several hours later that Harry fell into a fitful sleep.

He awoke to the smell of cooking. He looked at his watch and saw that he had only gotten three hours of sleep. Glancing out the window, Harry saw that the sun was peaking over the hills.

Rubbing his eyes, he made his way to the kitchen, expecting to see Mrs. Weasley making breakfast. He was surprised to see Ginny, her arms elbow deep in flour.

"Ginny, what are you doing?" Harry asked.

Ginny's head whipped up and Harry saw that the entire left side of her face was covered in flour. He laughed, and laughed even harder at the outraged look on her face when she saw him laughing.

"For your information, Harry, I'm cooking."

"Is that what you call it?"

"Shut up! I thought I would give my mum a rest by cooking breakfast."

"But you don't know how to cook."

Ginny's eyes tightened slightly. "Exactly." she said acidly. "I'm trying to make pancakes, but I don't have the first clue how to."

Harry smiled. "Well, first of all, you're using way too much flour."

Ginny eyed him suspiciously. "How do know?"

"You forget that I did all of the Dursley's cooking for a good part of my life. One doesn't do that much cooking and not pick up a few clues. Scoot over."

Harry pulled in next to her by the counter. He surveyed the situation with a technical eye. It seemed Ginny had her heart set on making enough pancakes for half of England. That wouldn't do. Using hi hand, Harry pushed most of the flour back into the flour bag.

"What are you doing?" Ginny demanded.

"Hush." Harry said with mock sternness. "Get me six eggs."

Ginny went to the pantry to get the eggs. While she was in there, she said something that Harry didn't pick out.

"What was that?" Harry asked.

Ginny came out of the pantry. She was holding her shirt up and was using it to carry the eggs like a pouch. Harry could see her pale, fit stomach, and the sight put him in a slight unease.

"I said that Susan and I talked about you, last night."

Harry felt himself blush slightly. "What'd you girls say about me. Crack those and put them in with the flour." he told her motioning to the eggs.

Ginny began cracking the eggs on the rim of the large bowl they were using. "I probably shouldn't say this, but I think she likes you."

Harry forced his face to remain motionless. "Really? Stir this." he said, pushing the mixture to Ginny.

"Yep. She told me all about the night of the banquet and how you danced. She said you were good but I've seen you dance and you're pretty bad."

Harry laughed. "I don't think she's danced with enough boys to know if I'm good or not."

"That's true." Ginny said. "Anyway she told me how you stood up to the Headmasters at the meeting and how handsome you looked."

"Of course." Harry said, brushing his hair back in a very model-like fashion.

Ginny looked at him for a moment, than snorted. "Whatever, Potter. I've seen you as anything but handsome. Remember last year when you had that zit on your nose. It was huge."

Harry laughed along with her. "Yeah, Yeah. Did she say anything else about me?"

"Of course. But I'm not telling. It was told in confidence. I've already bent the rules by telling you so much." After a moment, she succumbed to some unseen temptation. "I will tell you this, though. For being such a quiet girl, she's all giggles when she talks about you. We need yeast, right?"

"Right. Look in the pantry. Susan giggles?"

"Like a second-year." Ginny said when she got back from the pantry.

"Did you tell her embarrassing stories about me."

Ginny nodded. "Remember that valentine I sent you during my first year."

Harry nodded with a smile.

"I told her all about that." Ginny paused as if considering if she should say what she was thinking. "Remember the crush I had on you that year."

Harry nodded, no longer smiling.

"That was pretty pathetic, right?"

Harry shrugged. "I thought it was kind of cute, when it wasn't putting me in embarrassing situations."

Ginny flushed but Harry couldn't tell if it was embarrassment or pleasure. "Yeah, right. You've never had eyes for anyone but Cho. Well, until now."

Harry shook his head slowly. "The thing with Cho was so childish. I never even talked to her. THAT was pathetic."

Ginny nodded. "Yeah, it was. At least I had enough guts to send you a valentine."

Harry smiled, happy to be verbally sparring with Ginny. They were covering up their true feelings with jokes. They were getting as close to really talking as they ever had.

"I didn't just tell her the bad stuff, though." Ginny said.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I told her all about Quidditch and how you're like the best player in the school."

"Susan doesn't seem like a girl that's impressed by sports. She's kind of like you, in that."

Ginny nodded. She didn't seem happy anymore. "Yeah. She didn't care about Quidditch. But I told her all about you and Voldemort. I mean all of the stuff that no one knows. She seemed really interested in that stuff. She really liked the one about the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry turned to look at her.

Ginny blushed slightly and kept her eyes on the pancake mix. "I never really got to thank you for that, you know."

Harry shrugged. "All in a day's work as Harry Potter."

Ginny turned to look at him and smiled. "Bullshit, Harry. I know you. You saved my life. I might not be doing much with it, but for what's it worth,...thanks."

Harry nodded slowly. "That was one of the scariest moments of my life."

"I can imagine. That basilisk must have been pretty scary."

"No, that not what I meant."

"What?"

"No, it was seeing you on the ground. You looked dead. You were ice cold. That was the first time I realized that death could touch the ones I love just as easily as it did everybody else."

Ginny's lip trembled slightly. "Love?"

Harry forced a laugh. "Yeah. I love all of the Weasleys."

Ginny looked back to the pancake mix. "Oh."

The two of them continued to cook for a few minutes in silences. Finally Ginny said, "It was weird. I offered Susan some of my clothes to sleep in, but she declined. She stayed in that wool dress. That's gotta be hot, especially in Florida. Long sleeves in July."

Harry thought back. "I've never seen her out of that dress."

"I should hope so, Harry. You only met her the other day, after all."

Harry smiled. "No, I mean, I've never seen her wear anything but that dress. All the girls from Salem wore them to the banquet, but they wore normal clothes at the hotel. Susan always wore that dress. Maybe she's just trying to keep a piece of home with her."

Harry heard someone down the stairs, and looked up to see Quentin standing at the foot of the stairs. He was wearing one of George's T-Shirts, which was about three sizes too small. It looked like a sudden move would tear it straight up the back. "What are you guys up to?" he asked in a tired voice.

Harry wondered that himself. What were he and Ginny up to? What was going on between them? Harry had no idea.

Finally he just pointed to the pancake mix and said, "Cooking."


I know nothing happened, but I liked writing it. It's weird: writing the chapters where absolutely nothing significant happens is much easier that writing the chapters where something huge happens. I don't know, just tell what you think.