Chapter 12: Redemption
"Care for a game of chess, Harry?"
His head whipped around towards her in surprise and she gazed back at him silently from where she stood in the doorway, her figure silhouetted by the faint light from the hall. She hadn't expected him to still be awake when she came down, but was happy to find him by himself staring out the window. She could see past him outside and noted, with some small sense of satisfaction, that it was finally snowing.
"Of course," he said.
Walking in to the room, she stooped to pull the game out from where it resided at the bottom of a bookshelf and brought it with her to the fire. By the time she arrived at their customary armchairs for playing chess, he was already seated and staring at her intently.
"Would you like more light?" she asked politely, pointing her wand in the direction of a nearby lamp. It was rather dim in the room, with the only illumination being provided by the dying fire. This was primarily due to the lateness of the hour and the fact that the rest of her family was asleep.
"No, this is fine."
Sitting down across from him, she pulled the board out of the box and put it on the small table in front of her. It was an easy business, setting up this battered board between them, especially because she had done it so many times before. As such, the slight trembling of her fingers was almost imperceptible.
"Black or white?" she asked.
"Black," he said.
Nodding, she gently opened two velvet bags and the pieces obediently ran out, scattering in to position. A few of them recognized her and waved. She smiled slightly in response.
And with that, the game began.
There was no sound between them, save the gentle click of the moving chess pieces which, for whatever reason, kept to themselves when not in use. Looking back, Ginny would realize that this was the most orderly game of Wizarding Chess she would ever have the opportunity to play.
She watched him gently nudge his Knight forward, his long, pale fingers casting ominous shadows in the flickering light. He was a good opponent-- thoughtful, clever, and always focused-but never took more than a minute to move a piece. Ginny, on the other hand, could spend as long as ten minutes staring at the board before making her decision.
In a sense, that's what she'd been doing for the past several hours by herself up in her bedroom: pondering her options. Granted, the first several minutes were spent alternately crying and fuming over his apology and that had been followed by a rather long, rather torturous period during which she agonized over what, specifically, had gone wrong.
The delight she'd taken in reviewing the details of their evening together had quickly turned to dire humiliation when she realized they had almost gone as far in a single night as she had in the entirety of her relationship with Michael Corner. Realizing that, the notion that she had acted too eagerly and too forward and that's what had driven him away bounced recklessly around her head for what felt like an interminable amount of time.
In the end, it had taken a visit from Hermione and the good, strong cup of tea she'd brought with her to fully purge that theory. Despite the fact that Ginny didn't breathe a word about her clandestine meeting with Harry, Hermione seemed to know that something had happened. Ginny suspected this because her friend was more forthcoming with information than usual. She essentially confided that Harry had been fine when he'd returned from his discussion with Dumbledore and that he had been in particularly good spirits the entire day. This had all ended after a second summons from the Headmaster later that evening, from which he'd returned sullen and withdrawn. No amount of questioning from Hermione had moved him to discuss the subject with her, but his spirits had improved somewhat after they'd received permission to come to The Burrow.
If there was anything Ginny was grateful for, it was the fact that Hermione had left shortly after saying her piece and without asking the barrage of questions she normally did when confronted with something she didn't understand. This was particularly true because Ginny was in such a state that she probably would have divulged everything if prodded to do so.
Lying alone in the quiet darkness of her room after Hermione's departure, she struggled to center her thoughts. The first, and foremost item that she had held up for consideration was the fact that he'd admitted that he liked her. No less important was the fact that he'd said, during his apology, that he wanted them to be friends. Although the revelation had felt like a physical blow at the time, upon further reflection she had realized that it was something she wanted as well. Friendship with Harry had always been inextricably linked to every romantic thought she'd ever had of him because she knew it was impossible to have one without the other.
She wondered when she'd lost sight of that.
In the end, the twin truths that he liked her and wanted to be her friend were things he couldn't erase with words. As such, she had rooted most of her subsequent thoughts in these simple facts and had held firm to them every time her confidence had started to wane.
"Ginny?" Harry said quietly, breaking in to her thoughts.
She tore her gaze from the fire and glanced at him, worried she'd been caught in her distraction. Despite the fact that he'd addressed her, he was still staring down at the board, as though contemplating his next move.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Thank you," he said softly, still not looking up.
She knew full well why the words were said, and wasn't in the mood to pretend otherwise. So, instead, she simply threw him a cheeky smile and shrugged. "You're thanking me now, but wait until the end of this game when I whip you."
His green eyes sparkled and he grinned, causing her heart to leap. "We'll see."
And with that, they lapsed back into silence.
For the majority of the time between the point at which Hermione had left her room and the moment she came downstairs and found Harry, Ginny had allowed her mind to wander down a thoroughly jumbled, strange path. It had started, for some reason, with her parents.
She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that her parents loved each other very, very deeply, despite how different they were and how many fiascos resulted from those differences. Her mum's protective nature coupled with her dad's hobby of enchanting Muggle objects always leant an element of disaster to their marriage. The most vivid incident that illustrated this point was when Ron and Harry had stolen her father's flying car to get to Hogwarts (clearly having learned nothing from the verbal lashing the twins were subjected to for a likewise offense). While Ron had received a Howler for his troubles, Ginny was later told by Bill **Bill had later told Ginny that her dad had been the subject of such ire that he'd jokingly owled his oldest son, asking if there were any job openings at Gringotts in Egypt. Despite the incident, her mother had eventually forgiven her father completely. She would never forget how they had come together to support her full force the moment she'd emerged from her ordeal in the Chamber of Secrets.
Likewise, more recently, her father's decision to get stitches after being attacked by Voldemort's snake had kept her mother in a state of fury for three full days. Nonetheless, she'd never left her husband's side while he was at the hospital.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ginny's thoughts had next turned to Harry's parents. She didn't know much about them, nor did she know how Harry had found out that his mother had initially thought his father was arrogant, but by all accounts they had loved each other very much. They had given their lives to save Harry. That alone spoke volumes for how much they cared for one another and their son.
It always made her sad to think about Harry's parents. She had seen old photographs of Lily Potter and something about the woman reminded her of her own mother. She often wondered if things would have been different had she survived to raise her son. Sometimes Ginny thought about what Harry would be like if he'd grown up in an environment with people who loved and respected him. She reckoned he'd be a good deal happier and more confident but no less good or noble. She wondered if Lily Potter, as a fellow redhead and a Gryffindor, would have approved of Ginny and viewed her as a suitable girl for her son. The thought of Harry's mum gently steering him in her direction caused a painful enough ache in her chest that she quickly turned her mind to other things.
Unfortunately, the parental theme was a hard one to get rid of, and the next thought she had had nearly did send her into tears, as it was of Neville's parents. She reckoned that the numerous tin foil wrappers they kept giving him was the only way they had of reaching out across their tortured void. Something about the look in his eyes when he accepted their gifts made her think that he knew it.
It was then that she had needed to pause a moment and fully appreciate the fact that she missed Neville terribly. She wondered how his holiday was and if he and his grandmother ever got lonely, even when they were with one another. She was a bit surprised to realize that she missed him because, in a sense, she loved him too. It was the combination of feeling protective of him and protected by him that made their relationship less like that of best friends and more like that of siblings.
And then there was Percy. During his period of estrangement from the Weasley household, everyone had become progressively angrier with him. And yet, their mum had always made it clear that he was always welcome as a part of the family. She'd owled him on a regular basis even after he had made her cry by sending his Christmas jumper back. To watch them now, talkative and friendly over dinner the previous evening, no one would be able to guess that he'd been gone at all.
Love, she realized, came in countless colors, shades and flavors and none was more or less compelling than the other. The only constant she could find was that, in each instance of love, people stood by one another. Through good and bad times alike, each person had remained connected, much like those gold and silver strands she'd seen so many weeks ago.
And, because she loved Harry, leaving after his apology to brood alone in her room had been wrong. She knew that now, but it still hurt to admit it. Looking back, he had looked so indescribably sad that morning and she felt ashamed that she hadn't really stopped to think about why he was acting the way he was before she indulged in her own emotions. She had reckoned that Dumbledore had said something to him during their second meeting that was a catalyst for whatever he was going through, but she sincerely doubted it was something as simple as a direct order for Harry to stay away from her. Otherwise, why would Dumbledore have let Harry stay at The Burrow for part of the holiday?
No, she realized, it had to be something else. Something important and at least tangentially related to their relationship. An attack by Voldemort was the most obvious thing that came to mind, but again, Harry likely would not have been allowed out of Hogwarts if it was so serious.
Sirius.
The word had been like a lightning bolt to her brain.
And all at once, she hadn't been able to believe she was so thoughtless and selfish. It might not have explained the whole story, but Ginny had reckoned that at least part of Harry's melancholy was due to his godfather's absence. Their last Christmas had been spent at Grimmauld Place so of course he'd be thinking about it more often now.
In fact, that realization had been what had finally forced her to leave the sanctuary of her room. She had intended to just sit out on the porch for a few minutes to calm herself down and plan out her apologies to him for the following morning, but his presence by the window had changed all of that.
"Your move, Gin," Harry said gently and she looked up at him, a bit embarrassed to have been caught drifting in her own thoughts yet again. He was staring back at her expectantly and she finally poked her knight, causing the horse to gallop across the board.
Taking advantage of the break in the silence, she swallowed her fear and took a deep breath.
"I miss him, you know," she said softly, "Sirius, I mean."
Harry's hand froze above the chessboard from where he'd been about to prod his rook forward. Slowly, it came back down to rest on the table.
"Sometimes," Ginny continued, "I try to make myself forget, but it never seems to last very long."
He didn't respond.
Steeling herself for the worst, she asked the question she knew might drive him away. "Do you ever feel like that, Harry?"
There was a long period of silence then, before he abruptly picked up his bishop and moved it a few spaces.
The extended silence that followed the sudden movement was stifling.
"Your turn," he said roughly enough that she flinched and a wave of desperation crashed over her.
"Listen, Harry, I'm sorry," she burst out. "I don't know why I'm mentioning it at all because I know you hate discussing this sort of thing, I really do, but.I suppose I was just thinking about it tonight and.well.I loved him too." She finally gave up trying to sound confident and her voice shook slightly from emotion. "And-and I miss him so much that it hurts so I can't imagine what you're going through but I just thought it was important to say something."
There was more silence and she glanced at the board before half-heartedly waving a frightened pawn forward. "Your turn," she said.
She waited, mute and miserable, for what she was sure would be a very long time but he surprised her by suddenly speaking, his words so quiet she could barely hear them.
"I can't talk about this now, Ginny. I just can't."
"Then don't!" She was so relieved to get any acknowledgement to her attempts, that the words tumbled off of her lips at an almost alarming rate. "I'm not asking you to say anything, but I just need you to know that I'm thinking about him too because.well, because we all are. And if.if you ever DO want to say anything, then you can. To me, to Ron, to Hermione, to Professor Dumbledore-nobody will think any lesser of you for it."
"I can't talk about this with Dumbledore," he said darkly. "Or with Ron, or with Hermione."
She was about to protest, when she realized he'd omitted one person from his list and paused. The risk had already been taken to she had little left to lose by bringing it to light. "What about with me?"
He stared at the chessboard silently.
Sighing, she leaned forward. "Look, when the time comes, Harry, just think about it, okay? I know it's hard, but I lo-" She broke off, horrified to realize what she had been about to say because words as powerful as those had no business slipping off her tongue that easily. Pulling herself together, she began again. "I look back on all the things that have happened to me, with Riddle, with the Ministry, and I know I'm better off because I spoke with people about it." She paused, because he was staring at her, his green eyes burning into her brown ones.
Holding his gaze as bravely as she could, she set her jaw. "Just say you'll remember that I'm here if the mood ever strikes you. Please."
He let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine then."
"Thank you," she said.
They gazed at each other during the silence that followed and she tried not to let the affection she felt for him show on her face. After a long period of time, he looked to be about to smile at her as well.
"Your turn, Potter," she said finally, arching an eyebrow at him.
"Think again, Weasley," he retorted, glancing down at the board.
Ginny followed his gaze and was shocked to see one of her pawns sitting triumphantly on his king.
"I won," she said in awe.
"Looks like."
A beat.
"Sorry," she said, not sounding even remotely apologetic.
"Yes, well." He shrugged and raked his fingers through his dark hair. "I don't mind."
"Got enough practice losing to me already, haven't you Potter?"
His lips twisted into a lopsided grin. "I wasn't going to tell you this, but I let you win, Weasley."
"Right," she smirked back at him and he looked away from her almost shyly, turning his gaze towards the fire.
She resisted the urge to touch him then because she knew the impulse was unfair and wrong to indulge. If it was friendship he wanted, then it was friendship that she'd give him.
For years, she had told herself that she was in love with Harry.
She reckoned that it was about time that she started acting like it.
~*~
The kitchen in The Burrow was unusually full the following morning and Ginny's mother had outdone herself cooking. Stacks of toast, bacon, sausages, and a variety of eggs were lined up along the kitchen counter. Ginny enjoyed the spectacle of people and food coming together from her position safely nestled between Harry and Bill at the table.
"Good morning!" Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully, rifling through a stack of envelopes in her hands. "Several owls came in last night. There are a few addressed to both of you, Fred and George." She handed each boy an envelope. "Ginny, you have two. Ron you have one. Oh, Charlie, here's one from that friend of yours from school, darling girl, we haven't heard much from her." She paused, her brows furrowing, as he reached for the envelope. "Oh, but it's addressed to Bill-"
Hearing his name, Bill looked up from where he was reading The Daily Prophet just as Charlie snatched the letter out of his mother's hands and bolted out of the kitchen.
"Charlie!" she shouted, appalled.
Muttering an oath, Bill jumped up so quickly he nearly knocked over Ginny's orange juice and sprinted after him.
"Wh-what? What?' his mother sputtered in indignation just as there was a soft pop near the kitchen counter and in the place where Ginny's father had been standing moments before, was a large yellow canary. "Arthur!" she cried.
"Oh, crikey...." Fred said.
"Forgot to warn dad," George whispered.
Shooting each other a glance, they simultaneously pushed back from the table and were running out the door into the yard just as Ginny's mother was pulling out her wand from her apron and taking off after them.
"That's it, Fred and George Weasley! That is absolutely it! Merlin as my witness, you two will rue the day you ever-"
And the rest of her sentence was cut off as the door slammed behind her.
Hermione jumped at the loud sound, a look of complete horror frozen on her face and she looked over at Ron, who was calmly flipping through the copy of The Daily Prophet that Bill had abandoned. "Isn't anyone going to do anything about your father?" she whispered to Ginny.
"Well, there's not much that can be done until it wears off," Ginny said. "I reckon it'll only take a few minutes. Ron?" she asked, waiting politely until she had captured her brother's full attention. "What's going on with Charlie and Bill?"
Ron grinned, swallowing the last of the food in his mouth. "You missed it yesterday, but Bill's got a new girlfriend."
"Really?" Ginny bounced forward in interest.
Ron nodded. "Fred said that Charlie told him that Bill fancies that girl Charlie was good friends with back at Hogwarts.can't recall her name. Zea or something along those lines?"
Ginny thought hard and a failed to come up with so much as a vague recollection of what the girl looked like. "But what about Fleur?"
Ron shrugged. "Bill won't say and Charlie has been trying to find out what's been going on for ages but neither of them will tell him anything."
"Morning all," Percy said, walking in to the kitchen.
"Morning Percy, careful with the sausages on the counter and don't step on dad," Ginny replied.
He paused and looked down at the canary perched on the floor. "Fred and George again?"
The canary tweeted.
Percy made a face. "Sorry, dad."
Maeven, who had been sitting on Ginny's shoulder during the entire exchange, finally fluttered down to alight next to the other bird on the floor and started chiming in short spurts. Percy wisely avoided both birds and the sausages and started loading his plate with eggs and toast instead.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked, pointing at the phoenix.
"I think she's laughing," Ginny responded before dipping her spoon into her porridge.
Just then, two red heads bobbed past one of the windows, followed closely by another one. Faintly, she could make out the sound of her mother's voice shouting, "Stupefy! Stupefy!"
Harry got up and ran to the window to watch, while Ron casually flipped the page of the newspaper.
"How does he just block everything out like that?" Hermione asked, staring in Ron's direction.
Ginny shrugged. "He's used to it. We both are. If we didn't block it out most of the time, I reckon we'd never get anything done." She paused. "Certainly does explain a lot about him, though, doesn't it?"
A second soft pop signaled the return of Ginny's father to his human form and he coughed slightly, brushing a few stray yellow feathers off of his robes.
"You all right, Dad?" Percy asked, passing by him with a plate full of food.
"No worse for wear," her father responded brightly. Coming to stand next to Harry, he gazed out the window for a few moments in silence. "Perhaps I should go out there and try to calm her down," he said finally.
"Not a good idea, Dad." Ginny began, but he was already part way to the door.
"Harry, mate, are you going to eat that last piece of bacon?" Ron asked from the table. He clearly took the vague, disinterested sound he got in response as a 'no', since he snatched the meat off of the plate next to him.
Ginny's father walked out the door then, shutting it tightly behind him, leaving Harry to stare out the window alone. There was nearly a full minute of relative tranquility before he said, "Uh oh, here they come again."
This announcement was followed by the sight of her brothers flashing past the first kitchen window, the sound of her mother screaming "Stupefy!" which resulted in a distinct thud, the sight of her brothers flashing past the second kitchen window clearly unharmed, and the sound of her mother shouting "Oh no! Arthur!"
"Ginny!"
She closed her eyes at the dual sound of Bill shouting her own name.
"Ginny! Come here!"
She stood slowly, not quite wanting to get involved with whatever insanity was taking place, but knowing she didn't have a choice in the matter.
"Ginny!" He sounded increasingly desperate.
"Give me a second, Bill!" she shouted back, walking her plate to the kitchen sink. Hermione quickly jumped up to follow her.
Led by the sounds of vicious struggling, she finally located her oldest brother next to the stairs, suspended upside down in mid-air, his hands bound behind his back. His wand lay a few feet away from his head and he was eyeing it eagerly.
Charlie, who was upright and still in possession of his wand as well as the letter, was nonetheless in a similarly disadvantaged position as he was rooted to the spot by a freezing charm. The way his mouth moved uselessly in response to Ginny's appearance made her realize he was also under the influence of a silencing charm.
Hermione made a strangled sound as though stifling laughter, but it was drowned out by the delighted chuckle Harry let out from where he had come to stand behind them.
"Ginny, fix this, will you?" Bill said urgently.
Seeing that all the blood was rushing to her oldest brother's head, the first thing she did was flip him to an upright position with a twirl of her wand, but neglected to do much more than that.
"Ginny!" he burst out, staring at her. "Let me down!"
She stared at him as seriously as she could and willed herself not to look in Charlie's direction, for fear it would make her laugh. "I don't know about that, Bill. I think I need to know what's going on first."
Suddenly realizing what she was on about, his expression changed to that of practiced charm. "Come on, Gin, who's your favorite brother?"
Ah, the perennial favorite question with the answer that constantly changed depending on who asked it and under what circumstances.
"That all depends," she drawled carefully, finally allowing her gaze to flicker from one brother to the other, "on which one lets me read the letter."
Harry burst out laughing and even Hermione started to giggle at the horrified expression on Bill's face. Charlie sent her a positively wicked smile, his eyes sparkling dangerous. He nodded his head slightly and Ginny grinned.
"Well, that settles it then."
"Ginny, don't." Bill began, but she ignored him, raised her wand, and waved it vaguely before muttering, "Finite Incantatem."
In a flash, Charlie unfroze and made to run away at roughly the same time Bill dropped to the ground and was freed from his bonds. Not even bothering with his wand, he simply launched himself at his younger brother and they stumbled backwards, flipping over the top of the sofa and tumbling to the floor below. The sound of furious wrestling coupled with a few punches followed before Bill finally got to his feet, triumphantly breathless and in possession of both the letter and Charlie's wand.
Stalking towards them with a smug look on his face, he stooped briefly to collect his own wand from the floor. "Now who's your favorite brother?" he asked cheekily as he walked past his sister.
"That's easy. Ron!" she called after his retreating figure.
"What?" she heard Ron yell back from the kitchen, followed by a muffled, more conversational, "hey, wait, where did everyone go?"
"Mad," Hermione said, shaking her head after Charlie had limped past them. "How do you all prevent yourselves from going mad? It's pure insanity."
"I think it's wonderful," Harry said laughing and his eyes briefly met Ginny's.
She was momentarily knocked breathless by how beautiful he was when he was so carelessly happy and she felt mildly relieved when Ron walked up to them, forcing her to break her gaze.
"Anyone care for a game of chess?" he asked with a grin. "Harry and I have been practicing and I have it on good authority that we can trounce you girls."
"Unlikely," Hermione responded, rolling her eyes, but started towards the living room anyway.
Ginny and Harry followed suit, trailing a few feet behind.
"Hey Gin," he said in a low, mischievous voice and she turned to glance at him. "Your hair looks very long today."
She wrinkled her nose. "Really? Your eyes remind me of dead toads."
"Ginny!" Ron gasped, looking back at her over his shoulder with a panicked look. He relaxed somewhat when Harry started laughing.
"Oh please, it's fine," she said calmly and her brother looked unconvinced.
"She's right," Harry affirmed gleefully. "Don't you recognize a compliment when you hear one, Ron?"
"Nuts," Ron muttered under his breath, looking to Hermione for support. "I swear, they're both nuts."
But Hermione was too busy trying to sort out the chess pieces to pay attention to what was going on. "Why is the.?" She looked up, clearly confused. "I can't get the black king to come out."
"What?" Ron asked.
"Well, he's saying something about humiliation and he won't stop clinging to the inside of the-"
An absurdly high-pitched 'Hooray!' erupted from the chessboard, cutting the rest of her sentence off. Before Hermione could stop them, five white pawns ran in to the velvet bag and, moments later, they rushed out, carrying the struggling black king. With another 'Hooray!', they dropped him unceremoniously next to the black queen (who was hiding her face in her skirts and laughing) and ran back to their positions on the other end of the board.
Ginny took a deep breath and Harry made a coughing sound.
Hermione blinked. "Perhaps we should play something else."
"No, they've always been a bit off," Ron said with a dismissive wave. "Harry, what color should we be?"
"White," he said quickly and Ginny looked at him in disbelief. She made to swat him in mock irritation, but he caught her hand before it could make contact with his chest.
The roguish smile that lit his features then made the joy she had been feeling freeze momentarily and stick in her throat. Time seemed to slow for a few seconds and she was struck by a dizziness she couldn't explain. Fortunately, just as swiftly as the emotion had swept through her, it passed. This was partially because she shook herself out of it, but mostly because Harry had quickly dropped her hand and gone to go help Hermione coax the near-hysterical queens into standing.
Once that task had been accomplished, they took to settling themselves into their respective seats. The girls had to wait an additional few seconds while the boys jostled each other for space. Ginny made a significant effort in the interim not to watch Harry's hands as he repeatedly pushed Ron playfully off of the armrest the other boy was trying to sit on.
The sensation of his fingers wrapped around her wrist had brought a strange tightness in her chest and it wasn't something she wanted to dwell on.
As much as she loved him and delighted in their friendship there were moments like these that still made her burn.
And she hoped, more than anything else, that it wouldn't take long before she could touch him without remembering.
End Part 12
"Care for a game of chess, Harry?"
His head whipped around towards her in surprise and she gazed back at him silently from where she stood in the doorway, her figure silhouetted by the faint light from the hall. She hadn't expected him to still be awake when she came down, but was happy to find him by himself staring out the window. She could see past him outside and noted, with some small sense of satisfaction, that it was finally snowing.
"Of course," he said.
Walking in to the room, she stooped to pull the game out from where it resided at the bottom of a bookshelf and brought it with her to the fire. By the time she arrived at their customary armchairs for playing chess, he was already seated and staring at her intently.
"Would you like more light?" she asked politely, pointing her wand in the direction of a nearby lamp. It was rather dim in the room, with the only illumination being provided by the dying fire. This was primarily due to the lateness of the hour and the fact that the rest of her family was asleep.
"No, this is fine."
Sitting down across from him, she pulled the board out of the box and put it on the small table in front of her. It was an easy business, setting up this battered board between them, especially because she had done it so many times before. As such, the slight trembling of her fingers was almost imperceptible.
"Black or white?" she asked.
"Black," he said.
Nodding, she gently opened two velvet bags and the pieces obediently ran out, scattering in to position. A few of them recognized her and waved. She smiled slightly in response.
And with that, the game began.
There was no sound between them, save the gentle click of the moving chess pieces which, for whatever reason, kept to themselves when not in use. Looking back, Ginny would realize that this was the most orderly game of Wizarding Chess she would ever have the opportunity to play.
She watched him gently nudge his Knight forward, his long, pale fingers casting ominous shadows in the flickering light. He was a good opponent-- thoughtful, clever, and always focused-but never took more than a minute to move a piece. Ginny, on the other hand, could spend as long as ten minutes staring at the board before making her decision.
In a sense, that's what she'd been doing for the past several hours by herself up in her bedroom: pondering her options. Granted, the first several minutes were spent alternately crying and fuming over his apology and that had been followed by a rather long, rather torturous period during which she agonized over what, specifically, had gone wrong.
The delight she'd taken in reviewing the details of their evening together had quickly turned to dire humiliation when she realized they had almost gone as far in a single night as she had in the entirety of her relationship with Michael Corner. Realizing that, the notion that she had acted too eagerly and too forward and that's what had driven him away bounced recklessly around her head for what felt like an interminable amount of time.
In the end, it had taken a visit from Hermione and the good, strong cup of tea she'd brought with her to fully purge that theory. Despite the fact that Ginny didn't breathe a word about her clandestine meeting with Harry, Hermione seemed to know that something had happened. Ginny suspected this because her friend was more forthcoming with information than usual. She essentially confided that Harry had been fine when he'd returned from his discussion with Dumbledore and that he had been in particularly good spirits the entire day. This had all ended after a second summons from the Headmaster later that evening, from which he'd returned sullen and withdrawn. No amount of questioning from Hermione had moved him to discuss the subject with her, but his spirits had improved somewhat after they'd received permission to come to The Burrow.
If there was anything Ginny was grateful for, it was the fact that Hermione had left shortly after saying her piece and without asking the barrage of questions she normally did when confronted with something she didn't understand. This was particularly true because Ginny was in such a state that she probably would have divulged everything if prodded to do so.
Lying alone in the quiet darkness of her room after Hermione's departure, she struggled to center her thoughts. The first, and foremost item that she had held up for consideration was the fact that he'd admitted that he liked her. No less important was the fact that he'd said, during his apology, that he wanted them to be friends. Although the revelation had felt like a physical blow at the time, upon further reflection she had realized that it was something she wanted as well. Friendship with Harry had always been inextricably linked to every romantic thought she'd ever had of him because she knew it was impossible to have one without the other.
She wondered when she'd lost sight of that.
In the end, the twin truths that he liked her and wanted to be her friend were things he couldn't erase with words. As such, she had rooted most of her subsequent thoughts in these simple facts and had held firm to them every time her confidence had started to wane.
"Ginny?" Harry said quietly, breaking in to her thoughts.
She tore her gaze from the fire and glanced at him, worried she'd been caught in her distraction. Despite the fact that he'd addressed her, he was still staring down at the board, as though contemplating his next move.
"Yes?" she asked.
"Thank you," he said softly, still not looking up.
She knew full well why the words were said, and wasn't in the mood to pretend otherwise. So, instead, she simply threw him a cheeky smile and shrugged. "You're thanking me now, but wait until the end of this game when I whip you."
His green eyes sparkled and he grinned, causing her heart to leap. "We'll see."
And with that, they lapsed back into silence.
For the majority of the time between the point at which Hermione had left her room and the moment she came downstairs and found Harry, Ginny had allowed her mind to wander down a thoroughly jumbled, strange path. It had started, for some reason, with her parents.
She knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that her parents loved each other very, very deeply, despite how different they were and how many fiascos resulted from those differences. Her mum's protective nature coupled with her dad's hobby of enchanting Muggle objects always leant an element of disaster to their marriage. The most vivid incident that illustrated this point was when Ron and Harry had stolen her father's flying car to get to Hogwarts (clearly having learned nothing from the verbal lashing the twins were subjected to for a likewise offense). While Ron had received a Howler for his troubles, Ginny was later told by Bill **Bill had later told Ginny that her dad had been the subject of such ire that he'd jokingly owled his oldest son, asking if there were any job openings at Gringotts in Egypt. Despite the incident, her mother had eventually forgiven her father completely. She would never forget how they had come together to support her full force the moment she'd emerged from her ordeal in the Chamber of Secrets.
Likewise, more recently, her father's decision to get stitches after being attacked by Voldemort's snake had kept her mother in a state of fury for three full days. Nonetheless, she'd never left her husband's side while he was at the hospital.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, Ginny's thoughts had next turned to Harry's parents. She didn't know much about them, nor did she know how Harry had found out that his mother had initially thought his father was arrogant, but by all accounts they had loved each other very much. They had given their lives to save Harry. That alone spoke volumes for how much they cared for one another and their son.
It always made her sad to think about Harry's parents. She had seen old photographs of Lily Potter and something about the woman reminded her of her own mother. She often wondered if things would have been different had she survived to raise her son. Sometimes Ginny thought about what Harry would be like if he'd grown up in an environment with people who loved and respected him. She reckoned he'd be a good deal happier and more confident but no less good or noble. She wondered if Lily Potter, as a fellow redhead and a Gryffindor, would have approved of Ginny and viewed her as a suitable girl for her son. The thought of Harry's mum gently steering him in her direction caused a painful enough ache in her chest that she quickly turned her mind to other things.
Unfortunately, the parental theme was a hard one to get rid of, and the next thought she had had nearly did send her into tears, as it was of Neville's parents. She reckoned that the numerous tin foil wrappers they kept giving him was the only way they had of reaching out across their tortured void. Something about the look in his eyes when he accepted their gifts made her think that he knew it.
It was then that she had needed to pause a moment and fully appreciate the fact that she missed Neville terribly. She wondered how his holiday was and if he and his grandmother ever got lonely, even when they were with one another. She was a bit surprised to realize that she missed him because, in a sense, she loved him too. It was the combination of feeling protective of him and protected by him that made their relationship less like that of best friends and more like that of siblings.
And then there was Percy. During his period of estrangement from the Weasley household, everyone had become progressively angrier with him. And yet, their mum had always made it clear that he was always welcome as a part of the family. She'd owled him on a regular basis even after he had made her cry by sending his Christmas jumper back. To watch them now, talkative and friendly over dinner the previous evening, no one would be able to guess that he'd been gone at all.
Love, she realized, came in countless colors, shades and flavors and none was more or less compelling than the other. The only constant she could find was that, in each instance of love, people stood by one another. Through good and bad times alike, each person had remained connected, much like those gold and silver strands she'd seen so many weeks ago.
And, because she loved Harry, leaving after his apology to brood alone in her room had been wrong. She knew that now, but it still hurt to admit it. Looking back, he had looked so indescribably sad that morning and she felt ashamed that she hadn't really stopped to think about why he was acting the way he was before she indulged in her own emotions. She had reckoned that Dumbledore had said something to him during their second meeting that was a catalyst for whatever he was going through, but she sincerely doubted it was something as simple as a direct order for Harry to stay away from her. Otherwise, why would Dumbledore have let Harry stay at The Burrow for part of the holiday?
No, she realized, it had to be something else. Something important and at least tangentially related to their relationship. An attack by Voldemort was the most obvious thing that came to mind, but again, Harry likely would not have been allowed out of Hogwarts if it was so serious.
Sirius.
The word had been like a lightning bolt to her brain.
And all at once, she hadn't been able to believe she was so thoughtless and selfish. It might not have explained the whole story, but Ginny had reckoned that at least part of Harry's melancholy was due to his godfather's absence. Their last Christmas had been spent at Grimmauld Place so of course he'd be thinking about it more often now.
In fact, that realization had been what had finally forced her to leave the sanctuary of her room. She had intended to just sit out on the porch for a few minutes to calm herself down and plan out her apologies to him for the following morning, but his presence by the window had changed all of that.
"Your move, Gin," Harry said gently and she looked up at him, a bit embarrassed to have been caught drifting in her own thoughts yet again. He was staring back at her expectantly and she finally poked her knight, causing the horse to gallop across the board.
Taking advantage of the break in the silence, she swallowed her fear and took a deep breath.
"I miss him, you know," she said softly, "Sirius, I mean."
Harry's hand froze above the chessboard from where he'd been about to prod his rook forward. Slowly, it came back down to rest on the table.
"Sometimes," Ginny continued, "I try to make myself forget, but it never seems to last very long."
He didn't respond.
Steeling herself for the worst, she asked the question she knew might drive him away. "Do you ever feel like that, Harry?"
There was a long period of silence then, before he abruptly picked up his bishop and moved it a few spaces.
The extended silence that followed the sudden movement was stifling.
"Your turn," he said roughly enough that she flinched and a wave of desperation crashed over her.
"Listen, Harry, I'm sorry," she burst out. "I don't know why I'm mentioning it at all because I know you hate discussing this sort of thing, I really do, but.I suppose I was just thinking about it tonight and.well.I loved him too." She finally gave up trying to sound confident and her voice shook slightly from emotion. "And-and I miss him so much that it hurts so I can't imagine what you're going through but I just thought it was important to say something."
There was more silence and she glanced at the board before half-heartedly waving a frightened pawn forward. "Your turn," she said.
She waited, mute and miserable, for what she was sure would be a very long time but he surprised her by suddenly speaking, his words so quiet she could barely hear them.
"I can't talk about this now, Ginny. I just can't."
"Then don't!" She was so relieved to get any acknowledgement to her attempts, that the words tumbled off of her lips at an almost alarming rate. "I'm not asking you to say anything, but I just need you to know that I'm thinking about him too because.well, because we all are. And if.if you ever DO want to say anything, then you can. To me, to Ron, to Hermione, to Professor Dumbledore-nobody will think any lesser of you for it."
"I can't talk about this with Dumbledore," he said darkly. "Or with Ron, or with Hermione."
She was about to protest, when she realized he'd omitted one person from his list and paused. The risk had already been taken to she had little left to lose by bringing it to light. "What about with me?"
He stared at the chessboard silently.
Sighing, she leaned forward. "Look, when the time comes, Harry, just think about it, okay? I know it's hard, but I lo-" She broke off, horrified to realize what she had been about to say because words as powerful as those had no business slipping off her tongue that easily. Pulling herself together, she began again. "I look back on all the things that have happened to me, with Riddle, with the Ministry, and I know I'm better off because I spoke with people about it." She paused, because he was staring at her, his green eyes burning into her brown ones.
Holding his gaze as bravely as she could, she set her jaw. "Just say you'll remember that I'm here if the mood ever strikes you. Please."
He let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine then."
"Thank you," she said.
They gazed at each other during the silence that followed and she tried not to let the affection she felt for him show on her face. After a long period of time, he looked to be about to smile at her as well.
"Your turn, Potter," she said finally, arching an eyebrow at him.
"Think again, Weasley," he retorted, glancing down at the board.
Ginny followed his gaze and was shocked to see one of her pawns sitting triumphantly on his king.
"I won," she said in awe.
"Looks like."
A beat.
"Sorry," she said, not sounding even remotely apologetic.
"Yes, well." He shrugged and raked his fingers through his dark hair. "I don't mind."
"Got enough practice losing to me already, haven't you Potter?"
His lips twisted into a lopsided grin. "I wasn't going to tell you this, but I let you win, Weasley."
"Right," she smirked back at him and he looked away from her almost shyly, turning his gaze towards the fire.
She resisted the urge to touch him then because she knew the impulse was unfair and wrong to indulge. If it was friendship he wanted, then it was friendship that she'd give him.
For years, she had told herself that she was in love with Harry.
She reckoned that it was about time that she started acting like it.
~*~
The kitchen in The Burrow was unusually full the following morning and Ginny's mother had outdone herself cooking. Stacks of toast, bacon, sausages, and a variety of eggs were lined up along the kitchen counter. Ginny enjoyed the spectacle of people and food coming together from her position safely nestled between Harry and Bill at the table.
"Good morning!" Mrs. Weasley said cheerfully, rifling through a stack of envelopes in her hands. "Several owls came in last night. There are a few addressed to both of you, Fred and George." She handed each boy an envelope. "Ginny, you have two. Ron you have one. Oh, Charlie, here's one from that friend of yours from school, darling girl, we haven't heard much from her." She paused, her brows furrowing, as he reached for the envelope. "Oh, but it's addressed to Bill-"
Hearing his name, Bill looked up from where he was reading The Daily Prophet just as Charlie snatched the letter out of his mother's hands and bolted out of the kitchen.
"Charlie!" she shouted, appalled.
Muttering an oath, Bill jumped up so quickly he nearly knocked over Ginny's orange juice and sprinted after him.
"Wh-what? What?' his mother sputtered in indignation just as there was a soft pop near the kitchen counter and in the place where Ginny's father had been standing moments before, was a large yellow canary. "Arthur!" she cried.
"Oh, crikey...." Fred said.
"Forgot to warn dad," George whispered.
Shooting each other a glance, they simultaneously pushed back from the table and were running out the door into the yard just as Ginny's mother was pulling out her wand from her apron and taking off after them.
"That's it, Fred and George Weasley! That is absolutely it! Merlin as my witness, you two will rue the day you ever-"
And the rest of her sentence was cut off as the door slammed behind her.
Hermione jumped at the loud sound, a look of complete horror frozen on her face and she looked over at Ron, who was calmly flipping through the copy of The Daily Prophet that Bill had abandoned. "Isn't anyone going to do anything about your father?" she whispered to Ginny.
"Well, there's not much that can be done until it wears off," Ginny said. "I reckon it'll only take a few minutes. Ron?" she asked, waiting politely until she had captured her brother's full attention. "What's going on with Charlie and Bill?"
Ron grinned, swallowing the last of the food in his mouth. "You missed it yesterday, but Bill's got a new girlfriend."
"Really?" Ginny bounced forward in interest.
Ron nodded. "Fred said that Charlie told him that Bill fancies that girl Charlie was good friends with back at Hogwarts.can't recall her name. Zea or something along those lines?"
Ginny thought hard and a failed to come up with so much as a vague recollection of what the girl looked like. "But what about Fleur?"
Ron shrugged. "Bill won't say and Charlie has been trying to find out what's been going on for ages but neither of them will tell him anything."
"Morning all," Percy said, walking in to the kitchen.
"Morning Percy, careful with the sausages on the counter and don't step on dad," Ginny replied.
He paused and looked down at the canary perched on the floor. "Fred and George again?"
The canary tweeted.
Percy made a face. "Sorry, dad."
Maeven, who had been sitting on Ginny's shoulder during the entire exchange, finally fluttered down to alight next to the other bird on the floor and started chiming in short spurts. Percy wisely avoided both birds and the sausages and started loading his plate with eggs and toast instead.
"What's going on?" Hermione asked, pointing at the phoenix.
"I think she's laughing," Ginny responded before dipping her spoon into her porridge.
Just then, two red heads bobbed past one of the windows, followed closely by another one. Faintly, she could make out the sound of her mother's voice shouting, "Stupefy! Stupefy!"
Harry got up and ran to the window to watch, while Ron casually flipped the page of the newspaper.
"How does he just block everything out like that?" Hermione asked, staring in Ron's direction.
Ginny shrugged. "He's used to it. We both are. If we didn't block it out most of the time, I reckon we'd never get anything done." She paused. "Certainly does explain a lot about him, though, doesn't it?"
A second soft pop signaled the return of Ginny's father to his human form and he coughed slightly, brushing a few stray yellow feathers off of his robes.
"You all right, Dad?" Percy asked, passing by him with a plate full of food.
"No worse for wear," her father responded brightly. Coming to stand next to Harry, he gazed out the window for a few moments in silence. "Perhaps I should go out there and try to calm her down," he said finally.
"Not a good idea, Dad." Ginny began, but he was already part way to the door.
"Harry, mate, are you going to eat that last piece of bacon?" Ron asked from the table. He clearly took the vague, disinterested sound he got in response as a 'no', since he snatched the meat off of the plate next to him.
Ginny's father walked out the door then, shutting it tightly behind him, leaving Harry to stare out the window alone. There was nearly a full minute of relative tranquility before he said, "Uh oh, here they come again."
This announcement was followed by the sight of her brothers flashing past the first kitchen window, the sound of her mother screaming "Stupefy!" which resulted in a distinct thud, the sight of her brothers flashing past the second kitchen window clearly unharmed, and the sound of her mother shouting "Oh no! Arthur!"
"Ginny!"
She closed her eyes at the dual sound of Bill shouting her own name.
"Ginny! Come here!"
She stood slowly, not quite wanting to get involved with whatever insanity was taking place, but knowing she didn't have a choice in the matter.
"Ginny!" He sounded increasingly desperate.
"Give me a second, Bill!" she shouted back, walking her plate to the kitchen sink. Hermione quickly jumped up to follow her.
Led by the sounds of vicious struggling, she finally located her oldest brother next to the stairs, suspended upside down in mid-air, his hands bound behind his back. His wand lay a few feet away from his head and he was eyeing it eagerly.
Charlie, who was upright and still in possession of his wand as well as the letter, was nonetheless in a similarly disadvantaged position as he was rooted to the spot by a freezing charm. The way his mouth moved uselessly in response to Ginny's appearance made her realize he was also under the influence of a silencing charm.
Hermione made a strangled sound as though stifling laughter, but it was drowned out by the delighted chuckle Harry let out from where he had come to stand behind them.
"Ginny, fix this, will you?" Bill said urgently.
Seeing that all the blood was rushing to her oldest brother's head, the first thing she did was flip him to an upright position with a twirl of her wand, but neglected to do much more than that.
"Ginny!" he burst out, staring at her. "Let me down!"
She stared at him as seriously as she could and willed herself not to look in Charlie's direction, for fear it would make her laugh. "I don't know about that, Bill. I think I need to know what's going on first."
Suddenly realizing what she was on about, his expression changed to that of practiced charm. "Come on, Gin, who's your favorite brother?"
Ah, the perennial favorite question with the answer that constantly changed depending on who asked it and under what circumstances.
"That all depends," she drawled carefully, finally allowing her gaze to flicker from one brother to the other, "on which one lets me read the letter."
Harry burst out laughing and even Hermione started to giggle at the horrified expression on Bill's face. Charlie sent her a positively wicked smile, his eyes sparkling dangerous. He nodded his head slightly and Ginny grinned.
"Well, that settles it then."
"Ginny, don't." Bill began, but she ignored him, raised her wand, and waved it vaguely before muttering, "Finite Incantatem."
In a flash, Charlie unfroze and made to run away at roughly the same time Bill dropped to the ground and was freed from his bonds. Not even bothering with his wand, he simply launched himself at his younger brother and they stumbled backwards, flipping over the top of the sofa and tumbling to the floor below. The sound of furious wrestling coupled with a few punches followed before Bill finally got to his feet, triumphantly breathless and in possession of both the letter and Charlie's wand.
Stalking towards them with a smug look on his face, he stooped briefly to collect his own wand from the floor. "Now who's your favorite brother?" he asked cheekily as he walked past his sister.
"That's easy. Ron!" she called after his retreating figure.
"What?" she heard Ron yell back from the kitchen, followed by a muffled, more conversational, "hey, wait, where did everyone go?"
"Mad," Hermione said, shaking her head after Charlie had limped past them. "How do you all prevent yourselves from going mad? It's pure insanity."
"I think it's wonderful," Harry said laughing and his eyes briefly met Ginny's.
She was momentarily knocked breathless by how beautiful he was when he was so carelessly happy and she felt mildly relieved when Ron walked up to them, forcing her to break her gaze.
"Anyone care for a game of chess?" he asked with a grin. "Harry and I have been practicing and I have it on good authority that we can trounce you girls."
"Unlikely," Hermione responded, rolling her eyes, but started towards the living room anyway.
Ginny and Harry followed suit, trailing a few feet behind.
"Hey Gin," he said in a low, mischievous voice and she turned to glance at him. "Your hair looks very long today."
She wrinkled her nose. "Really? Your eyes remind me of dead toads."
"Ginny!" Ron gasped, looking back at her over his shoulder with a panicked look. He relaxed somewhat when Harry started laughing.
"Oh please, it's fine," she said calmly and her brother looked unconvinced.
"She's right," Harry affirmed gleefully. "Don't you recognize a compliment when you hear one, Ron?"
"Nuts," Ron muttered under his breath, looking to Hermione for support. "I swear, they're both nuts."
But Hermione was too busy trying to sort out the chess pieces to pay attention to what was going on. "Why is the.?" She looked up, clearly confused. "I can't get the black king to come out."
"What?" Ron asked.
"Well, he's saying something about humiliation and he won't stop clinging to the inside of the-"
An absurdly high-pitched 'Hooray!' erupted from the chessboard, cutting the rest of her sentence off. Before Hermione could stop them, five white pawns ran in to the velvet bag and, moments later, they rushed out, carrying the struggling black king. With another 'Hooray!', they dropped him unceremoniously next to the black queen (who was hiding her face in her skirts and laughing) and ran back to their positions on the other end of the board.
Ginny took a deep breath and Harry made a coughing sound.
Hermione blinked. "Perhaps we should play something else."
"No, they've always been a bit off," Ron said with a dismissive wave. "Harry, what color should we be?"
"White," he said quickly and Ginny looked at him in disbelief. She made to swat him in mock irritation, but he caught her hand before it could make contact with his chest.
The roguish smile that lit his features then made the joy she had been feeling freeze momentarily and stick in her throat. Time seemed to slow for a few seconds and she was struck by a dizziness she couldn't explain. Fortunately, just as swiftly as the emotion had swept through her, it passed. This was partially because she shook herself out of it, but mostly because Harry had quickly dropped her hand and gone to go help Hermione coax the near-hysterical queens into standing.
Once that task had been accomplished, they took to settling themselves into their respective seats. The girls had to wait an additional few seconds while the boys jostled each other for space. Ginny made a significant effort in the interim not to watch Harry's hands as he repeatedly pushed Ron playfully off of the armrest the other boy was trying to sit on.
The sensation of his fingers wrapped around her wrist had brought a strange tightness in her chest and it wasn't something she wanted to dwell on.
As much as she loved him and delighted in their friendship there were moments like these that still made her burn.
And she hoped, more than anything else, that it wouldn't take long before she could touch him without remembering.
End Part 12