Part Four - Connections
A/N: This was originally written for the PhoenixSong Summer Angst Challenge, but got way to large and wasn't completed in time to trim. So here it is!
Birds chirped merrily in the small village in Devon, as if they knew it would be the only chance they had to flit about carelessly in the face of the day's impending heat. The sound of crickets ebbed, surrendering to the rising sun's blasting rays. As the sun climbed higher, leaves on the nearby trees wilted and the inhabitants of a small cottage in Ottery St. Catchpole sought desperately to satisfy their need to find refuge from its scorching rays. In the highest bedroom, just below the attic, two sixteen-year-old boys were just waking from their slumber.
"Bloody hell," moaned Ron as he tossed the thin sheet off his body and onto the floor. "It's only ten, bloody o'clock and I'm already sweating."
"Ungh," was all that Harry had the gumption to offer. He too had been sleeping underneath a sheet and had stripped off all his clothing save a pair of plaid boxers. A fly buzzed miserably around the unlit gas lamps on the wall as he pushed a hand slowly through his sticky hair. Harry closed his eyes and tried to imagine being somewhere cool, but couldn't quite make himself feel the arctic chill of the South Pole.
He tried to imagine being anywhere, cool or not, that was where Sirius was still alive. A pang of guilt and overwhelming sadness welled inside his chest as it had done so many times since that horrible day two months ago. Harry let it wash over him, relishing the pain and the sorrow, feeling that it would somehow grant him the forgiveness he sought from his dead Godfather.
The rusty springs of Ron's mattress creaked and the redhead let out a heavy sigh. "Reckon we'd better go get some breakfast." His voice was listless and tired, exactly how Harry felt.
"Yeah," he finally answered, desperately pushing his emotions away once again and trying to expend as little energy as possible. Pulling his torso upright, he propped himself up with his elbows and surveyed the room through lethargic eyes.
Ron had pulled on a tee shirt that was missing large chunks in various places. Swinging his legs onto the floor, Harry felt around with his toes for something to put on as well. Finding something relatively clean, he pulled half-heartedly on it until it covered him and followed Ron downstairs.
As they descended the steps, the air became cooler and cooler, but never quite reached a tolerable level. Still, it was better than roasting alive in the attic.
The girls were in the kitchen, but adamantly refused to cook anything, for fear of heating the house up even further. Ginny and Hermione pushed oatmeal morbidly around their bowls while Mrs. Weasley pealed and sliced apples by the sink.
Harry plopped down next to Ginny and hung his head in his hands. "'Lo," he said without flourish, still intent on keeping his emotions buried. It had been like this since he arrived two days ago. No one pressed him about his languid demeanour and Harry was glad for it. It made it easier to bring back the guilt when he caught himself having too much fun.
Finally giving up on the idea of eating the mush in front if her, Ginny offered a small smile to him and said, "Hey."
Ron was sitting next to Hermione and despite the heat, seemed tense about something. His back was ramrod straight and his slightly bulging eyes were fixed on the wall opposite him.
"Something the matter?" asked Harry, perking up a little in his curiosity.
"N – Nothing at all," stuttered Ron. Ginny caught Harry's eye and shrugged. Ron, Harry decided, was looking everywhere but at Hermione.
She was wearing a tight white tank top that conformed to her torso and left nothing to the imagination. In fact, it was now obvious to Harry that his best friend happened to be missing a certain article of clothing and if he hadn't known better, he might have had the impression that it was cold in the kitchen.
Looking back at Ginny, he raised his eyebrows in question. She shook her head and motioned to Ron again. His face was quite flushed and he fidgeted with an apple slice before finally guiding it to his mouth. Hermione, for her part, was oblivious to the whole thing, still stirring the oatmeal with her spoon.
Ginny leaned back in her chair and yawned, stretching her arms above her head. It was at this moment that the awkwardness between Ron and Hermione flew from his thoughts as Harry noticed something that had never before crossed his mind. Ginny Weasley was a girl. And not just any kind of girl. She was thin, short, and freckly, sure... but as she continued to yawn and stretch, he realized that she was also quite pretty. Why this particular revelation struck him at this time was a mystery to Harry, but he had to do a double-take to make sure that she hadn't been replaced with someone else.
A sharp pain in his leg caused him to yelp and he torn his eyes away from Ginny to look across the table at Hermione. She was grinning widely at him, pinning him with a penetrating stare that somehow unnerved him, as if she knew he had been entertaining unwholesome thoughts for the girl next to him. He tried to glare at her for kicking him, but she didn't give him the chance.
"Ginny?" she asked with a voice that was entirely too chipper. "That's a lovely top you've got on this morning."
"What?" the redhead asked curiously, pulling at the light blue tee shirt. "It's two sizes too small and has a stain across the front." She pointed her finger at the stain across her chest and Harry's eyes automatically followed.
Hermione cleared her throat loudly and said, "Don't you think it's a lovely top, Harry?"
His eyes snapped up to Ginny's, who had turned from Hermione to Harry, still looking like the lot of them had lost their minds. "Er...," was all that Harry had the presence of mind to say.
Suddenly, Ginny's face transformed as if she had just figured out the answer to a very difficult question. "Yes, Harry," she said, now placing her hands on her hips, tilting them to the side a little. "What do you think of my top?"
Desperately trying to keep his eyes above her neck, Harry managed to say, "It's a very lovely top, Ginny." Then something finally penetrated Harry's addled mind and before she could reply, he added, "But baby blue doesn't match your hair." He stroked his chin in thought, openly surveying her front, feeling that at least now he had an innocent excuse. "Perhaps pink would be better?"
"Eugh!" said Ginny as she made a gagging motion with her finger. "I hate pink and so does Dean," she said with a glance at Ron.
Mentally kicking himself, Harry remembered that she had said they were dating just a few weeks ago on the Hogwarts Express. More to the point, he realized that he had let his friends drag him into their fun. "Well," he said, searching for a way to get out of the conversation civilly. "What's your favourite colour then?"
Looking him straight in the eyes, she leaned forward and said with a serious tone, "Green." She paused, he blinked, and she finished with, "as in 'fresh-pickled-toad'."
It took two heartbeats before he heard Ron chuckle, then unwillingly, a grin creased on Harry's mouth and Ginny lost her stony exterior, breaking into restrained giggles. Soon, everyone at the table was rolling on their chairs in laughter, but through the much needed humour, Harry couldn't help but wonder if she had been serious.
"So, Harry," said Ron who had now found the will to eat more than a slice of apple. "Maybe you and Ginny could go de-gnome the garden while Hermione and I finish that Potions essay." He was looking oddly between the two of them and Harry found himself questioning his sanity.
"What Potions..." said Hermione before Ron's hand covered her mouth.
"She means, which revision." Then turning to look at Hermione, said, "Didn't you?"
He let out a yelp of pain and removed his hand to cradle his shin.
"What on earth are you talking about, Ron?" she asked with a huff.
Still cringing in pain, he managed to quickly say, "I meant that maybe we should give Ginny and Harry some time alone."
Harry's brow furrowed and Ginny shot out of her chair. "I'm warning you, Ron," she said. "You better think really hard before you finish that sentence."
Ron gulped audibly in the face of his sister's fury and Harry couldn't help but admire her for her determination. He didn't fully understand what was going on between the two siblings, but he knew that he never wanted to be on the receiving end of that penetrating gaze.
A whoosh sounded from the fireplace and Albus Dumbledore stepped lightly from the mantle, interrupting their increasingly awkward conversation. His gleaming purple robes seemed to resist dirt as they didn't have a single fleck of soot on them.
"Albus," exclaimed Molly as she flopped a dish towel onto the counter she had been cleaning. "What an unexpected surprise."
The smile on the Headmaster's face was not congenial and foretold of some ill news that made Harry's breathing hitch.
"As much as I would like to, I am unable to make this a social call, Molly," he said as he strode towards the table where the teens were still seated.
Molly's face fell and her hands clutched nervously at her apron. "Is there something the matter? Is it... Arthur?"
"Nothing that grave, thankfully," he said with a wave of his hand. "But there has been a recent development that leads me to believe that The Burrow is in danger."
Harry's ears perked up and he shared anxious glances with Ron, Ginny, and Hermione.
"What kind of danger?" asked Molly as she shuffled over to sit next to Ron.
"We have received intelligence that The Burrow may be attacked within the next two days by Death Eaters operating on orders from Voldemort."
A sense of dread clasped Harry's heart and he felt his head sink slowly to the table. "It's because of me, isn't it?" he asked loud enough for them to hear. "He's coming here to get me, right?"
Although he couldn't see it, he could feel the gazes of his friends and Headmaster shift to his head. "No, Harry," came his maddeningly calm voice. "We believe that this attack had been planned as a scare tactic to intimidate Arthur into giving up his campaign for the position of Minister."
"But.... Huh?" was all that Harry could say, looking questioningly back at his Professor's face. The political fallout from Voldemort's return had been significant in the Wizarding world and Minister Fudge had been sacked within a week following a barrage of public outcry. Then a referendum had been passed by the Wizengamot that made Amelia Bones Minister pro-tem, pending a formal election. Dumbledore had been nominated immediately, but refused to accept, instead deferring to Arthur Weasley and so his campaign had begun.
"Voldemort does not want Arthur in charge of the Ministry as that would make his bid for power much more difficult to obtain," explained Dumbledore patiently.
"So when do we leave?" asked Hermione, pushing her half-eaten oatmeal away from her.
With a sigh, the elderly wizard looked back to Molly and said, "I'm afraid you are staying."
"What?" cried Ron, rising from his chair. Apparently, he surprised even himself and he quickly found his seat again. "I mean... why aren't we leaving if there's to be an attack...."
"It would only serve to defer their efforts until they were able to locate you again. What we need is to ensure your safety until the election takes place."
"Could we use the Fidelus Charm?" came Molly's concerned voice.
"Alas, I'm afraid that too many people already know the location of The Burrow for that to be effective." Then after the collective silence lingered, he continued. "What we can do, is to seal off The Burrow from any outside contact with the Oclaecous Testudo Charm."
"Oclaecous Testudo?" said Hermione with an anxious look on her face. "Professor? You don't mean to...."
"I mean, Miss Granger," he said graciously, "that in order to buy us the time we need to prevent an attack on The Burrow, secure the all of the persons therein, and give Arthur some peace of mind.... This charm is the best suited."
More silent stares followed this explanation and the Professor glanced at his large pocket watch before snapping it shut. "You will have an hour to make any preparations before the charm goes into effect. I suggest you obtain anything you might need for the next two weeks prior to that time."
Then removing a small velvet bag from his other pocket, he took a pinch of powder and threw it in the fire before announcing, "Hogwarts, Headmaster's office." With a flash of emerald green flames, he was gone.
Mrs. Weasley had left The Burrow with Ginny immediately after giving Ron, Harry, and Hermione a long list of things to be done in preparation for their seclusion in the Weasley's home. Ron was complaining about the list while Hermione berated him for his lack of enthusiasm.
"We've all got to do our part, Ron," said Hermione, glaring at the redhead.
Ron's hand slipped off the counter and he chucked the dirty rag he'd been using into the sink. "We don't need to clean the whole ruddy house just because we won't be able to leave it for two weeks, Hermione! It's not like we wouldn't have been living here anyway."
"Oh, we'll still be able to go outside," she said with a huff, pushing the last of the clean towels into the bathroom closet. "But I'd rather be in a clean house if I have to be stuck in it with you for two weeks." Then without a backwards glance, she stomped out of the loo and down the stairs.
Ron's face was red from the argument and although Harry tried to keep out of it and concentrate on working the toilet brush, he knew it wouldn't last.
"Why does she do that?" Ron exclaimed to the tap as he washed his hands. "Tell me that, Harry? What did I do wrong, eh? Name one thing. Why does she hate the idea of spending time with me?"
"Well she's..." Harry started out saying before deciding a different tack. "You do argue with her a lot."
Sitting on the floor with his back to the sink, Ron sighed. "I know. It's just that..." Wiping his face with the back of his hand, he continued. "She's too bloody pigheaded."
Harry's best efforts to hold in the laugh weren't enough, and his chuckles leaked through his fingers. Ron swivelled his head and sent a glare at his best friend. "You think this is funny, do you?"
"No!" said Harry through his ever increasing mirth. "Well.... Yes!" he finally temporized. "I mean, you're not exactly a slice of humble pie yourself, Ron."
"Oh, sod this," said Ron as he leapt up and walked out the door.
Shaking his head at his friends' mulish attitudes, Harry finished the toilet and sink, castigating his lapse into humour. When he had relived the Ministry attack several times, making sure to envision Sirius' shocked face in slow motion, he walked back downstairs, sufficiently guilt-ridden.
When he arrived, he wasn't at all shocked to hear heated words being exchanged in the living room. Molly and Ginny had arrived and were putting away groceries in the kitchen. They were sending each other worried glances and when Harry stepped down from the stairs, Ginny gave him a small smile.
"It's not like that, Hermione and you know it," yelled a very agitated Ron.
"Well then tell me what it is like, then," Hermione shot back.
Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and said, "I'd, uh, better go make sure they don't hurt themselves."
A hand caught Harry's arm and he looked up into Ginny's eyes. "Give them a minute, Harry," she said softly. "They might work it out better if they think they're alone."
Hesitating a little, he kept eye contact with her and nodded his head. "Alright, Ginny." Then without being asked, reached into the sack she had been emptying and helped her put away their groceries.
As he was lifting a sack of flour to the top shelf of their pantry, two loud cracks echoed in the kitchen, startling him, but he managed to keep his balance.
"Hello, family," chorused the familiar voices of Fred and George. "What's new?"
Molly swept into the room from the back office and clucked her tongue. "Best be off boys if you don't want to be stuck here for the next two weeks."
"What's that?" asked Fred as he sat heavily in one of the chairs at the table.
"I said," she called over her shoulder, obviously not wanting to waste her time with them. "That you'd better leave if you don't want to be stuck here."
The head of Albus Dumbledore appeared underneath the mantle, interrupting the conversation. "Molly, are you about ready?"
"Oh," she exclaimed and hustled over to where he was looking into the kitchen from the small green fire. "Yes, Albus. Whenever you're ready."
"Excellent. I'll be Apparating over with some Order members." The image flickered momentarily, then he said, "The charm should cover the whole property, but just to be safe, you should keep everyone inside until I send word to you."
"How will I know you've completed the charm then?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
"I assure you that the method of my communication will be quite discernable." Then he smiled and his head disappeared with a small pop.
Fred and George were eyeing their mother warily. "What's going on, then?" asked George.
"The Burrow is going to be shielded from all outside contact for two weeks," she said impatiently. "Now go, before the charm's in place."
A loud guttural scream echoed off the rafters and everyone in the kitchen winced. "How dare you suggest such a thing," came the deadly calm voice of Hermione from the living room.
They walked as one to the doorway, where Harry stood next to Ginny. The twins peeked over their heads and Molly clucked her tongue as she stood on Ginny's other side.
"It's true, then." Ron said with triumph etched on his face.
Hermione brushed angrily at a tear with her fingers. "Of course it's not true, you stupid, stupid prat." Ron stood tense, rocking on his toes as if he were ready to pounce on her. "I don't like him that way! I like you! I want to be with you!"
She sucked in a breath, along with Ginny and her hand came partway to her mouth as she stared wide-eyed back at Ron. He didn't waver in his stance, but Harry could detect a softening in his face. Several tense moments passed before anything happened and when it did, Harry had to blink to make sure he wasn't seeing things.
Ron lunged forward and grabbed Hermione in a crushing embrace, ramming his lips onto hers. She squeaked and threw her arms awkwardly around him. They stood there kissing for a few seconds before Fred and George yelled, "Great greasy Troll bogies! They finally did it!" loudly in Harry's ears. Ginny and Mrs. Weasley wore large smiles on their faces and Harry said a silent cheer. Perhaps they'd stop rowing now.
The twins were still celebrating, giving each other high-fives, but the kissing couple didn't seem to notice. It was only when they teetered onto the couch, Hermione straddling Ron's lap, that Mrs. Weasley broke them up.
"Oh!" said a very red Hermione as she shot off his lap. "I'm – I'm terribly sorry!"
"Not to worry, dear," said Molly. Then added with a smile, "Do try to temper your passion, though."
"Well done, Ron," exclaimed Fred as the younger boy scrambled to his feet.
"We knew you had it in you," beamed George.
Ron's face continued to redden, competing with the still oppressive heat though Harry thought he could detect the hint of a smile on his lips.
"Let's give them some time alone, shall we?" said Ginny and she shoved the twins out the door as they waggled their eyebrows and whistled at the pair.
Harry followed Mrs. Weasley back into the kitchen and sat at the table.
"Well," said George still grinning like an idiot.
"We've seen enough for one day," supplied Fred with an annoying wink.
They pulled out their wands and scrunched their eyes together in concentration. A second passed and they hadn't left.
"What's the big deal?" said Fred.
"We can't Apparate!" added his brother.
Molly had just finished putting away the last of the groceries and sat down at the table with a pitcher of pumpkin juice. "I warned you boys," she said as she handed mugs to Harry and Ginny.
Ginny caught Harry's eye and smiled before pulling on the cup of cool liquid.
"But what about the shop?" said George.
"Lee can't handle our customers...."
"And the lab!"
They looked at each other with frightened expressions. "The prototype!"
"What're you jabbering on about?" asked Ginny.
"It's unstable enough to..." Fred gulped and looked at his sister. "Explode."
"What can we do? Is there any way to get a message off to Lee?" asked George.
A large crackling noise cut into their conversation and before anyone could react, a ball of fire erupted in the air over the table. It consumed itself and in its place a piece of parchment appeared, floating down to the table along with a large phoenix feather. Harry picked it up and read aloud so everyone could hear.
The charm is in place. I had Bill and Tonks test it out before I sent them on their way. You won't be able to Floo, Apparate, Portkey, or use owl post until the charm expires in two weeks.
I'll send Fawkes to you in a couple of days to check for any communication you may need to send out.
Albus Dumbledore
"Well that settles it, then. You'll be able to send off a letter in two days," said Ginny, who was working on her second mug of juice.
George groaned and Fred let his head sink into the table with a thump. They were now officially trapped at The Burrow, with nowhere to go and no one else to keep company with. Looking at the Weasleys with renewed understanding, Harry realized it was going to be a long, hot two weeks.
The rest of the day was spent trying to find some way to keep cool in the rising temperatures. Molly had employed the twins in charming various items with freezing spells and at one point, Fred had frozen half The Burrow before Molly made him stop.
"You'll collapse the whole house if you keep going," she had explained before they disappeared into their room.
Ron and Hermione were unseen until dinner time and their glowing faces told Harry they had been diligent in trying to catch up for lost snog time. This forced Harry and Ginny to get creative in alleviating their mounting boredom. After five consecutive losses to her at wizard's chess, he decided that he wasn't ever going to beat a Weasley at the game.
"Do you have some kind of genetic gift for chess or something," Harry wondered out loud.
A grin slipped on her face as she placed the pieces into a cloth bag with her slender fingers. "No Harry, I just think you haven't got the sense of a toad."
"Wha –" he asked, trying to decide if he should be angry or sad at the youngest Weasley. "What's that supposed to mean?"
When she didn't answer, he looked at her face more closely. The grin had turned into an impish smile and she stuck her tongue out at him. "Oi!" he said and leapt at her from across the table.
Her reflexes were good, though and she dodged to the side, rewarding Harry with a face full of couch cushion. "I'll get you, Ginny Weasley," Harry vowed and lunged at her again.
She jumped off the couch with a squeak and ran laughing into the kitchen and out to the garden. Too hot to run after her, he slowed to a walk, just making it outside, and sat on the porch swing with a thump. Wiping sweat out of his eyes, Harry tracked her retreating form until it disappeared over a small hill towards the edge of the Weasley's property.
A slight breeze was blowing in the wake of the setting sun and he relished in the relief it brought. Several small bats flitted in and out of the porch supports, chasing moths in the night air while the symphonic sound of chirping crickets filled the air around him.
It was at moments like these, when his defences were down, and the weight of the world wasn't pressing quite so heavy, that he felt the burning sting of loss well up inside him. All the death he had been forced to witness; the people who had suffered under Voldemort's cruelty... were all painfully brought into his consciousness and he could hardly stand it.
And it was all his fault.
No matter how much he told himself it wasn't true, he couldn't help but see Sirius' accusing grey eyes staring back at him, or the vacant expression on Cedric's face. Even the near death of Arthur Weasley caused him no end of pain as he relived the night as a snake, when his fangs had pierced his flesh, sending warm blood oozing over the floor.
He sank into himself, once again revelling in the pain, letting the guilt rise like bile in his throat to punish him for daring to have fun when he had let everyone he had ever loved down.
Something brushed his cheek and he jerked round with a start.
"Oh, Ginny!" said Harry as he slowly pointed his wand away from her chest, not entirely sure how it had gotten there from his pocket. Not only had he been the snake that almost killed Arthur, now he had almost hexed his daughter. He felt like such an idiot.
"I'm sorry, Harry," she said as she eyed him cautiously. "I didn't mean to frighten you, but you seemed pretty far gone." Her cheeks were flushed red and her eyes sparkled in the waning light.
His sigh was the only response Ginny got and she settled into the porch swing, tucking one leg under the other. "The shield charm extends for quite a ways," she said, in an effort to draw him into conversation.
Harry grunted and laid his head back onto the wooden seat, not wanting to risk speaking. His emotions were still too raw, the pain still too fresh and Ginny wasn't close enough of a friend.
Ginny's eyes still bore into him and the thought was somewhat annoying. "Look Ginny," he said with more emotion that he intended. "I'm just..."
"It's all right," she said, touching his shoulder lightly with her hand. "You don't need to say anything, I'll just go." The spot where he hand lay was abnormally warm and he was annoyed to discover just how acutely aware he was of the sensation.
She stood, her hand slipped off and a sensation of loneliness washed over him. "Don't go," he said a bit desperately, reaching out a hand to grasp hers.
Stopping in mid-stride, she turned to face him, changing the grip on his hand and said, "Alright, Harry." Ginny sat once more, this time a bit closer and the warmth in her eyes caught Harry by surprise.
A tear threatened to escape from his eye and he tried to wipe at it with his free hand surreptitiously, but Ginny wasn't fooled. Her finger found his chin and turned it towards her. "Sometimes it's healthy to cry."
Harry's head shook a fraction of an inch before her hand moved to his cheek and halted the motion. As muddled as his thoughts were, the expression on Ginny's face was easy to interpret. She loved him. It wasn't the mushy-eyed look that he remembered Cho giving Cedric a year and a half ago, or even the ones that Ron had been giving Hermione for the past two years. It was the kind of look that spoke of something deeper, something that went beyond romance and it humbled him.
Touching her hand with his, he nodded and gave into his feelings. "It's all my fault, Ginny," he said, voice thick with emotion. "Cedric," he said and then couldn't stand looking into her pretty eyes. "Your dad," he whispered before letting out a strangled sob. "Sirius."
His head was being pulled down and before he knew it, he was cradled in Ginny's arms. Harry could feel himself crying, hear the racking sobs and the hot burning in his eyes as tears soaked into her front. She was rubbing his face with her hand and whispering in his ear. He didn't understand a single word she was saying, but it didn't matter. Ginny's actions were like a healing balm for his soul that both soothed him and awoke feelings he had never experienced before.
"Ginny?" he asked when the tears stopped.
"Yes, Harry," she replied, now pulling her fingers through his hair.
"How did you know?"
The ghost of a smile played on her lips. "Know what?"
Harry felt guilty for enjoying their close contact, but he couldn't make himself stop her ministrations. "That I needed this?"
He could feel her sigh and she shifted his head to her lap. He obliged by propping his feet on the armrest. "Because I know you, Harry."
Now staring at one another, she resumed pushing her hands through his hair. "Thank you," he said as tears threatened to form for a completely different reason. Love was a difficult emotion for Harry to understand, but it was being offered to him, now, on this porch swing and he had only begun to accept it.
Holding his fringe back with her hand, exposing his scar to her scrutiny, she bent low and pressed her lips to his forehead. "You're welcome," she whispered.
"What're you doing to him, Ginny?" came Ron's forceful voice.
Harry shot up off Ginny's lap and rotated on the bench until his feet were on the ground.
"It's none of your business, Ron," said Ginny with a warning tone.
"You were snogging him, weren't you?"
"What if I was?" she challenged back. Harry's already fragile mind was trying to work out how to feel about being in a compromising position with Ron's sister. Guilt and exhilaration battled for dominance and a faint tingling where her lips had been only served to confuse him more.
Ron let out a whoop and punched the air. "That means Hermione owes me ten Galleons!" he said, more exuberantly than was strictly necessary.
Ginny's jaw dropped at the same time as Harry's. "You mean you two were..." started Ginny.
"Betting on us kissing?" filled in Harry.
Ginny's eyes narrowed and with arms crossed, said, "Well you haven't won anything, Ron. Harry and I weren't kissing."
"That's not what it looked like to me," he said, apparently already decided on how to spend his ten Galleons.
"Yeah, well, you wouldn't know what a snog looks like, would you?" she said acidly.
Unfazed, Ron continued his attack. "There's nothing wrong with admitting it, Ginny."
"There is if there's nothing to admit," she said heatedly. "Nothing's going on between us, Ron. Harry and I are just friends."
Ron made a disbelieving noise and looked between the two of them. Then at length he said, "Alright, Ginny. I believe you."
"Thank you," she said leaning back into the bench. "And don't think I'm not going to have a little chat with Hermione about this bet of yours."
Ron's face went white and he entered The Burrow quickly, letting the screen door slam behind him.
"Sorry about that," said Ginny shakily. "He can be a real git sometimes."
"Yeah," said Harry distractedly, trying to add her words and actions together. "So, we're just friends, right?"
Ginny paused, then turned slowly to look Harry in the eye. "Should we be something different?" she asked sincerely.
Unable to stretch his mind around any more, he gave up. "I guess not," he said and averted his gaze to his shoes.
"Well," she said and stood up, stepping over to his slouched form. "If you ever need to talk about... anything, I'll be here for you, Harry. Always." Then she walked to the door and quietly slipped into The Burrow.
Harry had waited outside until midnight in an effort to avoid a confrontation with Ron. Why was he so keen on having he and Ginny get together anyway? It was this issue that kept Harry awake, as he tried to work out the emotions that were so plain on her face and exactly how he felt about it.
Thinking logically, he knew that she had held a torch for him as recently as fourth year. Hermione's pronouncement that she had given up on him hadn't come as a great surprise, but somewhere in the back of his mind, he reasoned, it had been a bit unnerving.
The next morning, Harry awoke early, something he had been doing for the last two months, and unlike yesterday, quietly slipped out of the room before Ron awoke. His plan was to talk to Hermione first and enlist her support before having to endure Ron's inevitable taunts. Harry would have chosen Ginny as his partner, knowing that she had a special power to inflict fear in her brother, but his still muddled feelings made the prospect of being around her difficult to internalize.
Unfortunately for Harry, Ginny was already awake and was busy talking with Hermione in hushed tones in the corner of the kitchen. As he stepped from the stairs, they let out a conspiratorial giggle and Harry decided to make his presence known.
Clearing his throat, he said, "Good morning, ladies."
Ginny jumped and turned around, eyes wide, while Hermione nervously clutched at her chest. "Harry," the older girl exclaimed. "Don't dothat!"
"Sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you." He fidgeted with his tee shirt for a moment and said, "Hermione? Could I speak with you?"
She glanced apprehensively at the redhead next to her and nodded. "Sure thing, Harry."
Not wanting to take chances at being eavesdropped on by the twins or worse, Ginny, Harry grabbed his friend's hand and pulled her into the back garden.
"Alright, Harry," said Hermione as they sat on one of the wooden benches. "What's going on?"
"I need your help, Hermione." Harry tried not to sound desperate but couldn't quite make his voice cooperate.
Perking up, she said graciously, "Is it about Ginny?"
"Well... not really. It's about Ron, actually."
Confusion crept over her face. "Ron? I don't understand."
"He's being a git." Then deciding that Ron was usually being a git, decided to qualify that. "Well, more than usual. He's got this notion that Ginny and I should get together."
Hermione's bushy eyebrows disappeared into her hair. "Really?" she said as she fidgeted on her seat. "What's so unusual about that?"
Harry's jaw dropped. "What? How could you... I mean, really. It's not that she isn't pretty..." Clamping his mouth closed, he decided that silence was preferable to letting anything slip.
A maddening smile flashed on her face. "So you think Ginny's pretty?"
Feeling a warmth spread across his cheeks, Harry ducked his head. "Well of course she is," he hedged.
"And did you always think so?" she asked pointedly.
This was not how the conversation was supposed to have happened at all. "Look, Hermione... I need your help to keep Ron from teasing us." He sighed, feeling his normal colour return and turned back to look at Hermione. "No matter what feelings may exist between me and Ginny, he's got to keep out of it," he said in a tone that brooked no argument.
Turning serious, Hermione nodded her head. "Consider it done."
After a sombre breakfast, Ginny suggested that they take a swim in the pond to find some relief from the heat.
"Is the pond inside the charm?" asked a concerned Hermione.
Ginny nodded her head as the four of them walked upstairs to change. "I walked around the edge yesterday." Then pulling at her ponytail nervously, she said, "It's really odd looking, you know?"
Hermione shook her head, clearly not understanding.
"The charm," explained Ginny as they paused outside the girls' room. "From a distance, you can't tell anything is there, but if you get up close to it, it sort of... shimmers."
"Hmm," said Hermione as she chewed on her lip in thought. "I'm sure it's normal."
The boys kept walking up to their room to change, leaving the girls by their door. Harry kept shooting Ron apprehensive looks, expecting him to launch into a rant about Ginny at any moment. Surprisingly, it never came and Harry silently thanked Hermione for her interference.
Once in their suits, they walked slowly out into the heat of the day. A slight breeze blew across the garden and Harry vaguely made sure the towel draped over his shoulder didn't fall off. "How come I've never heard of your pond before now?" he asked Ron as they walked behind the girls.
Ron's eyes were glued to Hermione's long white legs and it took a nudge from Harry to get an answer out of him. "Huh? Oh, right... the pond," he said as he fidgeted with the small cooler he was carrying. "Well, it's really well hidden and since I started at Hogwarts, there really hasn't been the opportunity."
"Hmm," said Harry, who was now trying to figure out when Ginny's hips had become so... round. A rash of giggles from the girls brought his gaze up to meet Ginny's warm brown eyes, crinkled at the corners from laughter. Ron cleared his throat next to him and Harry sent him a warning glance as they walked past the small paddock that doubled as a Quidditch pitch.
Arriving at the pond, the girls proceeded to stretch out on the small strip of sand that surrounded it, placing their picnic basket between them. Dragonflies were skimming over the surface of the water, dipping low to take an occasional drink, sending tiny ripples over the otherwise calm water. The breeze had vanished and Harry wondered if that had something to do with the large trees that very effectively secluded the pond from The Burrow's view.
The pool was larger than he had envisioned a pond being, but it was much smaller than the Hogwarts' lake. On the far side of the water, the trees were shimmering as if there was some kind of curtain in the air that distorted their view. Ron had already shed his shirt and was about to dive off the edge of the dock, when Harry got a wicked idea. Sneaking up slowly along the worn planks of wood, he shoved Ron hard in the back and sent him yelling into the water.
"Oi, Potter!" he said when he'd resurfaced, glaring indignantly at his best friend. Harry quickly dropped his shirt on the dock beside the cooler and jumped in next to Ron, splashing the redhead with a large wave of water.
The crystal clear water was quite pleasant, but before Harry could enjoy its cooling properties, he was roughly shoved back under the water by a pair of rough, freckly hands. They continued to shove and splash each other until their sides ached from laughing.
After swimming around the pond for a couple of hours, the girls called them over to have lunch. Several sandwiches and bottles of cold pumpkin juice later, Harry laid back contentedly on his towel, letting the sun dry the water from his still damp hair. At some point, he must have drifted off to sleep because when he awoke, the sun had drifted behind the tops of the trees and his scar was prickling painfully.
Blinking in the face of the still bright sky, he sat up and tried to look around through his sun fettered eyes. Ginny was lying beside him, face down but Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be seen.
"Ginny," he said, nudging her with his toe. "Wake up."
Rolling over to her side, she squinted up at him. "What's the matter, Harry?"
"Nothing... Well," he amended, "I'm not entirely sure there isn't, but I wondered if you knew where Hermione and Ron went." Usually, his scar would have stopped hurting after a while, but it seemed to only get more irritated as time went by.
When she didn't say anything right away, he looked over to her and noticed her face was twinged with pink. "They, er, went off to snog in the woods."
Harry let out a breathy laugh. "Figures," he said with a small smile as he rubbed his forehead unconsciously.
"Is your scar hurting?" she asked, now fully sitting up.
"Yeah," he said, trying to shrug it off. "It's just a little uncomfortable is all."
She nodded and folded her legs together. "I hope that doesn't mean Tom's about to hurt someone."
Taken aback that she didn't admonish him to tell Mrs. Weasley right away, like Hermione or become overly concerned like Ron, Harry let his gaze linger on her for a moment before he said, "Well, it can't be too bad because the pain is usually unbearable when he's particularly murderous."
She offered a small smile and said, "That's something to be glad for then." Then before he could say anything in reply, she stood and offered her hand to help him up. "Let's go look for them, shall we?"
He took her hand and pulled until he was standing but as soon as he let go, a giant stab of pain shot through his skull. "Eugh!" he said, barely muffling a scream as he grabbed desperately at his forehead, falling to one knee.
"Harry?" said Ginny, concern
"He's not happy," he managed to say as the sand dug into his skin and waves of pain rolled through his connection with Voldemort. "Something about... AHH!" The pain spiked and he caught a vision of Voldemort Apparating somewhere, surrounded by Death Eaters. One of them approached him, bowed and was promptly banished a hundred yards away, landing against a gnarled oak tree.
"Why am I required to pick up after your messes, Mulciber?" said the high-pitched voice.
"We have cancelled the concealment charm, but the wards are too strong to penetrate, my Lord," said another hooded man.
"Nonsense, you simply haven't applied the proper magic." The Dark Lord turned to his left and walked up to a shimmering field and Harry instantly recognized the shabbily constructed building in the distance.
"He's here," said the voice of Harry and Voldemort. Another spike of pain, followed by an unearthly wail brought Harry's mind back into his body and he was surprised to see Ginny hovering over him, her bright red hair cascading down around his face.
"It's all right, Harry," she said with a strained voice. "I'm here with you."
He noticed that she was holding his hand tightly and the thought helped him to relax just enough to let his mind break free of Voldemort's hold on him. "He's here, Ginny," he croaked.
"I know, Harry," she said, wiping at her cheeks with her free hand. "The wards will hold."
He smiled weakly and squeezed her hand. "I wonder why he broke the connection?" he wondered out loud. "And my scar doesn't even prickle any more."
"That's odd," Ginny said as Ron and Hermione came running up to them.
"We came," said a breathless Ron, "as soon... as we... could."
"Voldemort's here," said Harry as Ron winced.
Hermione knelt beside Ginny and helped her lift Harry to his feet. "We heard him, too," she explained.
"What do you mean?" asked Harry, now upright, but still a little dizzy.
"Didn't you hear him screaming?" Hermione asked.
"Well, yeah, but I thought that was only in my head."
"Not even close," said Ron. "It was an awful sound."
Their conversation was interrupted when a large gong sounded from the direction of The Burrow. "What was tha–" started Harry, but Ginny's hand slipped from his and the pain in his head returned with all of the force it previously held. Groaning, he fell to his knees, once again as he fought off a wave of nausea.
"Harry!" chorused three voices and three pairs of hands grabbed him. The pain stopped.
Still gasping for breath, Harry said, "It's... gone."
Ron and Hermione stood, but Ginny stayed knelt by his side for a moment, then helped him stand once more. She unclasped her hand and Harry felt the urge to grab it back, when a scream cut through air. Some part of him, detached form the pain, realized that it was his own voice that was yelling so savagely, then something prompted him to reach out for Ginny. When his fingers touched hers, the waves of hatred and anguish lifted.
"Ginny," said Harry tentatively. "I think the pain only stops when I'm touching you."
"What?" said Ginny and Ron at the same time.
"I can't explain it, but when you touch me, it sort of... stops the pain," Harry was becoming rapidly uncomfortable with this conversation.
"It's the connection," said Hermione knowingly. "Professor Dumbledore let me check some books out from the Hogwarts library for some summer reading and the one on magical bonding and charms said that people who are bound together can pass emotion and sensations through their link." She said this all with one breath, leaving Harry trying to take in air for her. "Voldemort must – oh, please, Ron – must be passing his pain to you, Harry," she finished.
"That's great," said Ron as they walked back to their towels. "But what's that got to do with Ginny?"
Still holding her hand, Harry tried to fight the flush of embarrassment that was creeping up his neck. "Well," said Hermione. "Obviously Harry's feelings for Ginny must be passing back through the link enough to counteract Voldemort's – honestly, Ron, it's just a name – to counteract the emotions he's passing back to Harry."
Harry's eyes involuntarily caught Ginny's, who was now smiling demurely at him and he instantly lost the ability to hold his blush back any longer. Looking back to the ground, he briefly considered braving the pain of having the world's most evil wizard in his head as long as he didn't have to keep holding Ginny's hand in front of Ron.
Ron, for his part, still looked as if he didn't quite understand what Hermione was telling them. "You mean," he said at length, "that Harry fancies Ginny and that's why the Dark Tosser can't affect him when she's touching him?"
Ron's face lit up and he shot a wicked look at Harry. "What would happen if they kissed, then?"
"What?" spluttered Harry, now positively twitching with the desire to run into the forest and hide for weeks.
"You know," said Hermione, who was tapping her lips with a slender finger. "You might be on to something here." Then turning to Ginny, said, "If you kiss him, with all the feeling you have, you might be able to push that through Harry's connection and into Voldemort's mind."
"Hold on a second, here!" said Harry, gathering some confidence. "We shouldn't have to kiss just because of Dinglebrains over there," he said pointing in the general area of The Burrow.
"Harry's right," said Ginny. "We should only kiss because we both want to."
"You mean you'd rather not kiss my sister and be able to give You-Know-Who a kick in the pants at the same time?" asked Ron incredulously. Then he narrowed his eyes and shoved a finger in Harry's chest. "You got something against my sister, Potter?"
"N – No!" shouted Harry. "I like her just fine!"
"Then what's the matter, huh? She not good enough for you?"
"No!"
"Too pale and freckly?"
"I love her freckles!"
"Boobs not big enough?"
Harry started, ready to shout out another answer, but Ron's comment caught him off guard. "You prat!" he said and punched him hard on the shoulder, but did so with a wide grin.
Ron rubbed his arm, a smile splitting his face as well and came close to Harry's ear. "Seriously, mate," he said. "I know you like her, so there's no reason to not give her a good solid snogging."
Ginny's soft giggle told him that she had heard, despite Ron's quite tone. Hermione pulled on Ron's arm and said, "Let's give them some privacy, Ron. They'll work it out on their own."
"All right, but don't go too far. Keep your hands on her hips, Harry," said Ron as Hermione started to drag him faster towards the tree line.
"I can take care of myself, Ron," shouted Ginny indignantly.
They both tracked their friends until they were out of sight and Harry shifted nervously on his feet until Ginny cleared her throat. "So... do you want to sit?" she said, pointing to their towels, which were now shaded by a nearby oak.
"Sure," said Harry, groaning inside at the awkward predicament he had gotten himself into.
"We don't have to kiss," said Ginny as soon as they were seated, facing each other. "Ron's just got a big mouth."
Harry chuckled, feeling a bit of the tension pass over him. "He's fine... I was more worried about you."
"Me?" she asked, her nose scrunched together in a way he found particularly adorable.
"Yeah," he said, trading the hand he was holding hers with. "I thought that you'd be uncomfortable kissing someone while you had Dean..." he trailed off, not really knowing exactly how to phrase his thoughts.
"Oh," she said quietly, before looking to their joined hands. "I'm not really... dating Dean, you know."
Harry's head shot up. "You're not?"
She shook her head, sending small tendrils of hair loose from the clip that was holding it up.
"Oh." Several seconds passed in which, he was able to feel some of the tension build again between them.
"I meant what I said last night, Harry," she said suddenly, bringing his thoughts back to their situation.
"Which part?" he asked, trying not to feel the spot where their legs were touching.
"I'll always be here for you," she said simply. "Always."
Harry attempted to discern her meaning and exactly what it had to do with their decision of whether or not to kiss. Deciding that now that he knew she was available, and gathering hope from the fact that she wasn't perturbed by their close proximity, Harry leaned his head closer to her.
"You'll always be here for me?" he asked in a whisper.
"Yes, Harry," she said, her jaw going slack.
"For whatever I need?" he pressed, hoping that he was right.
She nodded this time, refusing to speak as their faces came closer.
His stomach flipped, but he pressed forward. "What if I asked to kiss you?"
"Then I'd say, yes, Harry," she said without hesitation.
Their faces lingered close to one another for a moment as they searched each other's faces. He noticed flecks of gold in her deep brown eyes that he hadn't ever seen. Her eyelashes were long and curved up high, as if trying to touch her brow. The freckles on her face were made up of several shades of copper that added a depth to her personality he realized he had taken for granted.
Ginny's breath was coming in short gasps through her open mouth and she tilted her head slightly to the right, bringing her lips up right next to his, but not enough to touch him. His tongue flicked out to moisten his mouth and he pulled on Ginny's hand until it rested on his back before finally closing the space between them.
Thousands of thoughts raced through Harry's mind as he tried to grasp at the new sensations that kissing Ginny Weasley brought into his life. There was an indescribable softness, like nothing he could have imagined. She tasted sweet, like some undiscovered fruit and he couldn't bring himself to think more about it when their tongues touched for the first time.
The clip on the back of her head had been discarded as soon as his hands found it still restraining her fiery locks. Her hair was soft as well, but the feeling was so different that he almost broke the kiss trying to discover just what those differences were.
At length, a humming registered somewhere distant in his foggy brain, which grew louder with each passing second. Soon, it was too loud to ignore and he had the distinct impression that it was the sound of someone screaming through his scar.
As they continued to explore each other, Harry eventually lost track of the humming, instead focusing on the beautiful, vivacious girl in front of him, whose love he could no longer question and for whom his love had grown more than he could have ever dreamed. He had traded one connection for another.
The End
A/N: The concept of having Harry and Ginny kiss to cause Voldemort pain was not entirely my idea, but I endeavoured to make it as original as possible. I first read this concept in cts's story, "Reign O'er Me" on Schnoogle.