Summary:
In the past Harry's friends have been a source of strength but he's about to
discover that even the best friendships are rarely simple and hardly ever easy.
Harry/Ginny, R/Hr, Rated T (previously PG-13).
Disclaimer: Places and characters belong to JK Rowling. I guess the words belong to me though. To avoid repeating myself I think we can assume that if I don't own Harry in the first chapter, I probably still won't own him in subsequent ones. If that situation changes, believe me, I'll let you know.
A/N: Although this is primarily a Harry/Ginny fic, I warn you now that they will not declare their love or jump on each other in a broom cupboard straight away - there are a couple of hints in the first few chapters but it builds up sloooowly. Having said that, I'm sure I've got enough other stuff going on to keep you entertained along the way. :)
An A/N on re-posting: Are any other authors out there a bit disconcerted that we now
have to mark our work T (for Troll)? Anyway, for anyone who thinks this all sounds a bit
familiar, no this is not a case of deja vu, I'm just re-posting. I originally starting
writing this story back in July 2003 and started posting in March 04. Unfortunately I got to
chapter 5 and ground to a halt. I wasn't very happy with it and couldn't for the life of me
get chapter 6 out. Having gone away for a while & come back, I've re-jigged it a bit and am
much happier. I hope you will be too.
Unfortunately, as I'm re-posting I think I'm going to lose all my reviews so let me just
quickly say a huge thank you to AntoniaEast and angel who reviewed on several
occassions and without whom this fic would still have talking mist and an OTT Mrs W! Thanks to
tabula rasa2 who still holds the award for my longest review, and to ZanyMuggle
who convinced me that being on the wrong side of 25 isn't so bad... My sincere thanks also go
to amhta29, Bug2buggie, Fancyeyes, Luisa, Jlatmil1,
Cicatriz, GinervaPotter, May Liza and reading-rider for all your
words of encouragement. I don't know if any of you are still out there seems to have
lost a lot of visitors recently), but I'd love to hear from you if you are.
Okay, enough of that. On with the show...
1. Summer Little Whinging.
The sun shining on the large park at the back of Little Whinging Primary School made playing rugby a hot and sticky affair. Anyone could see that Dudley Dursley's immense bulk wasn't used to exercise in any form; in truth, was he was only playing because of his terrible GCSE results. From what Harry had overheard, he suspected that Smeltings had wanted to throw him out but Uncle Vernon had somehow managed to persuade them to let him stay to do one A-Level (Sports Science). There was a condition though; Dudley had to take up a team sport in addition to his boxing.
Faced with a choice between getting a job or complying, Dudley had started playing rugby. Presumably he had chosen it because it was the roughest game he could think of, as he certainly never seemed to enjoy it and the fact that he had been forced to endure his cousin's company seemed to aggravate the situation.
Harry assumed this was why his previous grudging civility (brought on by the threat of an even stricter diet should any abnormal or pink-haired people turn up on Uncle Vernon's pristine lawn) had descended to outright viciousness. Dudley had given up completely on huffing and puffing around the pitch, instead directing his friends Piers and Dennis to kick Harry hard in the shins whenever the opportunity arose, all pretence of a game having long since vanished.
Not that Harry minded. In recent summers he had been banished to (and sometimes locked in) his room, or else had been set to work pulling out weeds, mowing the lawn or doing any other menial task that his relatives had found to keep him miserable and out of their way.
At least today he was outside, away from Aunt Petunia's bony glare, and the effort required to prevent his shins from being bruised was keeping his mind off other things...
Harry had discovered weeks ago that thinking about the events of last term was more painful than he was ready for. That was why, when his godfather had been formally cleared of Peter Pettigrew's murder, Harry had refused to attend the memorial service Dumbledore had arranged. That was why, when the Headmaster had let it drop but said "we will discuss this further when you are feeling stronger", he had ignored the elderly wizard and banished the conversation to the deepest recesses of his mind. And that was why he'd spent the first month of the summer holidays doing anything and everything to distract himself in an attempt to stop his mind wandering. He'd found that physical exercise worked best and Harry was hopeful that by tonight he would be too exhausted to dream.
Piers and Dennis stopped to catch their breath and Harry made sure to keep a good distance away from them. He gazed around the park, which was full of people enjoying the rare spell of warm weather. There were skate-boarders using the wooden benches to perform tricks, families feeding the ducks and couples sitting lazily in the shade, seemingly oblivious to everyone else around them. A couple, no older than Harry, caught his eye and he found himself wondering what life must be like for Muggle boys who didn't have Voldemort to worry about. He wondered if the Weasleys were outside playing Quidditch in the paddock near The Burrow and if Ginny was still playing Seeker or had started practising her Chasing skills.
This moment of inattention cost him. Piers had sent the ball speeding towards him and it ricocheted painfully off Harry's thigh, rolling off the pitch towards the tennis court. In another life Piers would have made a good Beater, Harry decided. Knowing none of the others would bother, Harry went to retrieve the ball and was slowly making his way back, scuffing his worn trainers across the dry earth, when something about an elderly lady sat hunched over on one of the benches made him stop.
He glanced over at Dudley but the three boys were too busy standing in a huddle, smoking and pointing towards two girls on the other side of the pitch to notice Harry sit down on the other end of the bench.
"You missed a bit," he said quietly, still looking in the direction of his
cousin.
"Sorry, sonny?" the old lady croaked, straining to hear him.
Harry didn't raise his voice.
"You missed a bit. There's some pink sticking out behind your left ear."
The woman swore, all hints of croakiness having disappeared from her voice.
"I overslept this morning. Didn't have time to check the mirror." She closed her eyes
tight and the offending hair turned as grey as the rest on her head.
Harry knew that Dumbledore wouldn't leave him unguarded outside Hogwarts and had made a sort of game out of spotting the various Aurors and Order members. Tonks was, for obvious reasons, the most difficult to spot but she always chatted to him if he found her so anyone who showed signs of clumsiness was viewed with particular suspicion. Today Harry's Seeker skills had paid off.
"Well, that's my cover blown. How's it going Harry?"
"Okay, I guess. Any news?" Harry asked as he idly picked at a piece of green paint peeling
off the bench seat.
"Nothing I can tell you about," Tonks said. She started to grin. "I'm glad you found me
though. I wanted to say happy birthday for tomorrow."
"Thanks."
Somehow Harry couldn't seem to get very excited about this. He'd never really celebrated
his birthday and the one person he'd... Harry mentally shook himself.
"And I'm going away for a while, so you might get the old fogey with no sense of humour
following you for a bit."
Harry smiled at Tonks' affectionate description of Mad-Eye Moody.
"Where are you going?"
"Abroad." Tonks's tone was still friendly but Harry knew there was no point asking her
to elaborate. "Oh, and I've got a message for you too."
"Really?" Harry asked, raising his eyebrows in surprise.
"Yep. Apparently your post will be delayed but it's nothing to fret about," Tonks
replied cryptically.
"What does that mean?"
Tonks smiled and shrugged, her woollen shawl falling off her shoulder. "No idea."
Harry was used to being kept in the dark by now and couldn't summon the energy to
ponder on what it might mean. He squinted in the direction of his cousin, who was still
trying to look cool and hadn't realised that Harry hadn't returned their ball.
"I should probably head over before they notice me talking to strange old ladies,"
Harry said reluctantly.
"Oi! Not so much of the old," Tonks objected. She winked. "See you when I get back."
Harry said goodbye then picked up the ball and crossed the pitch. When Dudley saw him coming Harry heard him start the now familiar story of the boy who went to St Brutus's in a voice loud enough for the girls to hear. In the past this might have upset him but today he dropped the ball near Piers's feet and wandered over to a quiet corner of the park.
He sat down at the foot of a large, shady tree and leaned back against its bark, running his fingers over the cool grass. He sighed, then got his latest letter out of his pocket. Hedwig had arrived just as he was going out and Harry hadn't had a chance to read it yet.
The letters he'd received over the last four weeks were just as devoid of real information as they had been the previous summer, but they arrived often enough to almost make up for it; Harry found himself writing at least one letter a day, even if it was only a line or two long. Strangely, Harry didn't recognise the rounded handwriting on this scroll, and unrolled it curiously.
Hi Harry,
How's things? I hope you don't mind me writing; I thought you might like a break from that prat of a brother of mine (yes, I know - which one?) going on about how great a Keeper he is. He's bad enough normally but I swear that 'Weasley Is Our King' song went gone straight to his head. Just to even things out a bit, I scored FIVE times against him this afternoon. We're gonna get the Gryffindor cup for certain this year - even if Kirke and Sloper knock each other out every match!
Anyway, congratulations on your OWLs. Hagrid was really proud all three of you got an "Outstanding" for Creatures. Ron's beginning to wish he hadn't done quite so well though - Mum's constantly asking him to go and speak to the ghoul about all the noise he's making these days. I don't think she realises just how many spiders there are lurking in our attic! Fred and George still refuse to believe he didn't forge his results - they keep complaining the standards are slipping because he passed his History of Magic exam. If they weren't so surprised I would have been convinced they'd helped him cheat somehow - I mean, who gets an "E" when they didn't even take notes? He claims it has something to do with comparing Giant Wars to chess but I think it was something about Hermione's handwriting that got his attention.
(Next to this was drawn a smiley face that winked at Harry occasionally.)
Speaking of Hermione, did she send you a postcard from Florence? The one that arrived here came in the Muggle post - you should have seen Dad's face when the postman knocked on the door to introduce himself. He must have thought we'd just moved in or something.
I got a letter from Luna the other day too. She's in Sweden with her Dad. I haven't a clue if they found any Snork-Crumbly-thingies though - she wrote in Ancient Runes or something and there were all these wierd swirls around the edge of the paper. I'll get Hermione to translate it when I see her. Hopefully that shouldn't be too long - Ron and I are trying to persuade Dumbledore to let you both come over to stay very soon.
Things have been fairly deserted around here; Mum and Dad are busy. Fleur proposed again yesterday and it's put Bill in a quiet mood all week. He's obviously smitten so I don't know why he keeps saying no.
The twins spend most of the day at the shop. I wanted to help out over the summer to earn a few extra Sickles but Mum said I had enough independent spirit already, whatever that's supposed to mean, so I wasn't allowed. It looks really good though - you'll have to go to Diagon Alley and see them. They're working on a new 'Colour Range' though, so don't touch anything they offer you that's green - it'll still be in the experimental stage. Dean had green eyelashes all last week, which he wasn't too pleased about - he couldn't play football in his local park without wearing his mum's mask of rara. I shouldn't laugh...
Anyway, I hope your summer hasn't been too bad. Is Dudley still on that rabbit diet? I'll see if I can get Fred and George to bring home some Sugar Quills for you.
Write back if you have the time. Hope to see you soon,
Ginny.
Harry read Ginny's letter twice. He smiled. It was nice to hear from someone different for a change. Apart from those from Ron and Hermione, the only letters he'd received were one each from Lupin and Hagrid, and his OWL results a couple of weeks previously.
Harry had been momentarily paralysed when he thought about all the other students in his year opening their OWLs letters surrounded by their families. When he finally managed to unroll the parchment, Harry hadn't been surprised to learn that he had failed History, and was almost proud to have received a "Dreadful" in Divination. Other than that, he'd done quite well, getting "Outstanding" for both Defence and Care of Magical Creatures, four "Exceeds Expectations" in Transfiguration, Potions, Herbology and Charms, and an "Acceptable" in Astronomy.
Hermione had naturally received "O"s in all ten of her subjects and Harry suspected she might have broken several of the OWL records too. Ron's results hadn't been much different from Harry's, with the unexpected exception of his "E" in History of Magic. He had even told Harry he was now thinking of taking the subject at NEWT level. Just as Ginny had hinted, Harry suspected Ron's sudden change of heart had something to do with Hermione. It was one of the subjects she had expressed an interest in continuing.
Harry wasn't sure which subjects he was going to do for the next two years. Along with his disappointment at getting an "E" in Potions, (effectively ruling out the possibility of him becoming an Auror,) he felt a great deal of satisfaction from knowing that he would never be taught by Snape ever again, and always lost himself in a daydream where he told the Potions Master what he could do with his crystal phials whenever he thought about it.
In fact, he didn't even have to face the possibility of Dumbledore forcing him to resume their Occlumancy lessons. Now that Harry had grasped the fundamentals, the thing he needed to work on was the clearing-his-mind bit, which Tonks helped him with. Twice a week a lanky, rather awkward-looking boy, who bore some ressemblance to Ron, turned up at number 4 Privet Drive and together they went to Yoga classes at Little Whinging Leisure Centre. At first Harry had felt very self-conscious but Ron's clumsiness attracted far more attention than he did (for a change) and he soon found that the stretching and breathing excercises had become habit, and that it was getting easier and easier to focus. He hadn't had a vision from Voldemort in weeks.
Harry looked up from the parchment and gazed across the sun-baked grass. To his surprise, he saw that the two girls Dudley had been pointing at earlier were now standing talking to him and Piers. Dennis was nowhere in sight. Harry wasn't sure whether to feel jealousy or pity. Deciding it was best to just ignore them, he started to read his letter again.
He smiled at Ginny's Quidditch antics with Ron. If there was one thing that he missed
most of all during the summer, it was flying. He couldn't wait to climb back onto his
Firebolt and soar into the air again. Harry remembered who had given him his prized
possession and he was about to search for something to distract himself with when a
shadow appeared over his parchment and Harry looked up to find Dudley standing over him.
"We're going home," Dudley said simply before he turned to walk towards the park
gates.
Sighing, Harry carefully stowed Ginny's letter in his pocket and started back towards Privet Drive, wondering what Ginny had done to the twins in return for Dean's green eyebrows.
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
To be continued...
In chapter 2: An unusual birthday and Dudley suffers a... mishap.
A/N: Well, you probably know what I'm going to say now - I'd like to hear what you
think so all comments, compliments and constructive criticisms are gratefully
(anxiously!) received.
Until the next chapter,
myrtille et mure,
xxx
x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x x
written July 2003
posted March 2004
re-posted March 2005
