Decisions

Emily Weasley was cute, and she knew it. After changing its mind several times, her hair had settled on a colour somewhere between the rich chestnut of her mother and the flaming red of her father. Soft auburn curls framing large brown eyes made her resemble a china doll, and the photographers that hounded her mother never missed an opportunity to take her picture. Emily used this to her advantage, and by age five had already perfected a smile that made old women pinch her cheeks and call her a cherub.

Harry fell into the grate in the Weasley house just in time to see the aforementioned cherub run past screaming and brandishing a plastic lightsaber. She was closely followed by Sally, carrying an identical weapon. Sensing a dead end, Emily ducked under the dining table. Slowing down, Sally scanned the room and swept her lightsaber from side to side.

"You can run Luke," she said in a gravelly voice, "but you cannot hide."

There was a giggle from under the table.

Laughing triumphantly, Sally lifted the edge of the tablecloth with her sword. Emily crawled out, still giggling.

"Well," said Sally, "I cannot defeat you with the sword. But there is one weapon which even you cannot resist."

Picking her daughter up, she began to tickle her mercilessly.

Laughing almost as much as the five-year-old, Harry emerged from the fireplace. Turning around, Sally handed a red-faced Emily to her godfather, who sat down and perched the little girl on his lap.

"So why did you want me to come over?" Harry asked.

Sally tapped her nose. "It's a surprise. And a chance for me to prove that I can keep a secret."

Before Harry could question her further, Ron's head appeared in the fireplace.

"Right, I've got it all sorted out," said the rotating head.

"Brilliant," said Sally. "I'll take Emily to my parents'."

"Why…" began Harry, but the only answer was the slam of the front door.

Emily looked up at Harry quizzically. Harry shrugged.

A few seconds later, the front door opened again and Sally came back into the kitchen.

"Sorry," she said, lifting Emily off Harry's lap, "forgot the child."

Despite interrogating both Ron and Sally about what was going on, Harry only got enigmatic smiles and winks. Finally, Sally approached him holding a scarf.

"Right," she said, "I'm going to have to blindfold you."

"WHAT? WHY?"

"What part of 'It's a surprise' don't you understand?"

"Well it's one thing you being all secretive, and quite another you blindfolding me. The way things are going the surprise is going to involve some mild torture or sexual perversion."

Sally laughed. "Nothing quite as enjoyable. But the blindfold is going on."

With that, Sally tied the scarf around Harry's head. After a few minutes, Harry stopped protesting and sat sulking, arms folded. From the sound of things, more people were entering the room, but they were speaking too quietly for him to be able to tell who they were.

"Right mate," said Ron, helping Harry up from his seat, "time to go."

Harry looked around wildly, before realising that it wouldn't help as he was blindfolded anyway.

"Go where?" he tried, beseechingly. "Why are you doing this to me?"

A voice Harry recognised as Hermione's answered.

"It's fun. You should try it sometime. Well, not on one of us, obviously."

"Right!" said Harry. "There are people here! I know it!"

There was a slow hand clap that Harry knew could only have come from Sally.

"Well done," she said sarcastically. "Everyone, I present the amazing Harry – marvel at his astounding powers of deduction!"

Harry decided to shut up, and allowed himself to be bundled into the Floo. He didn't even ask any questions when he heard Ron's voice call out 'Diagon Alley!"

After Harry had tripped over a step, a dog and his own feet (from the sounds of things the last one had been captured on camera), he was pushed through the door of a shop. After a whispered conversation, Harry heard someone say "Well that all seems to be in order, you'll be needing this…and these…" As the grip on his wrist grew tighter, Harry felt the familiar jolt behind his navel.

"Now that's not even funny," Harry began, but he was already up in mid air.

As he crashed into the ground, a voice said, in a Scottish accent, "Seventeen fifty-two, from Diagon Alley."

Harry got to his feet, a bit dazed. Grappling with the blindfold, he took it off and looked around.

Standing around him, beaming were Ron, Sally, Hermione and Ginny, who promptly threw a handful of confetti over him.

Sally cleared her throat, as if about to make a speech. "Harry Potter," she intoned, "on this the twenty…oh damn, I can't keep that up." She reverted to her normal voice. "Basically, as a birthday surprise, we decided to bring you to Edinburgh for some unbridled decadence and non stop party. Surprise!"

Ginny threw some more confetti into Harry's hair, and Hermione blew a party horn.

Harry looked around at his friends and grinned. "I suppose none of you have noticed that it's not my birthday. My birthday isn't until Sunday."

"Well spotted," said Sally, "but as my birthday is tomorrow, we're turning it into weekend long birthday bonanza."

"So why didn't you have to be blindfolded?"

Sally laughed. "Partially because it was my idea and partially because I would have been intelligent enough to take off the blindfold after walking into a lamp post."

After seeing a play on the fringe (during which Ron and Harry invented a very complicated way of playing I-Spy using sign language), trying haggis (which all of them agreed never to do again), and half-heartedly going to a club (with Ron, Sally, Hermione and Harry spending most of the time trying not to look tired), the five bundled into a hotel room.

As Ginny flopped onto the double bed and Harry attempted to open a bottle of champagne, Sally emerged from the bathroom talking on her mobile phone.

"Yes, of course we are…okay…okay…love you too darling."

She held the phone out to Ron. "Say goodnight to Emily."

As Ron took the phone and left the room, Harry sighed.

"How did everyone suddenly become so grown up?" he asked. "You two have a kid and a mortgage; Hermione's married…what have I missed here?"

Ginny pouted. "At least you don't have a biological clock! Every time I see Mum, I can just hear her saying 'tick tock, Ginny'."

"Join the club," said Hermione. "I'm not sure what the Bulgarian for 'barren woman' is, but I'm pretty sure that Viktor's mother uses it every time we visit."

"On the other hand," said Sally, thoughtfully, "a lot of people said that Ron and I were getting married too young, and although I don't regret a minute of it, I do wonder what life would have been like if we had left it a bit longer to settle down. I suppose it just depends on when you meet the right person." She grinned mischievously. "Any sign of Mr. Right?"

Ginny shrugged, unsure how to answer the question. "There is someone at work," she said, "but we're not really that serious, at least, not at the moment."

"WHAT?" exclaimed Ron, who had just re-entered the room. "You never told me!"

"I'm sorry," said Ginny, "I must have missed the memo saying that was any of your business."

"What about you?" said Sally, rounding on Harry, "Anybody special?"

Harry shook his head, embarrassed. "No, not really."

"You're lying," said Hermione, laughing. "Come on, spill the beans."

"Well…" said Harry, wishing he had never brought it up, "there is someone. I've met up with her a few times and we get on really well, but I'm not sure if she's…you know…that interested."

"What's her name?" pressed Hermione.

Harry contemplated lying, but then decided not to. "Actually, it's Alicia Spinnet."

"Seriously?"

Ron sat up, looking mildly impressed. "Well done mate," he said, "as far as I remember she was quite…" he looked over at Sally, "…er, quite ugly, complete troll actually…"

"See," said Sally, "I've got him well trained."

Ginny turned to Harry. "So, what are you going to do about it?"

Before Harry could answer, Sally interjected. "He's not going to do anything. I'm not sure she's…you know…that interested," she said, mimicking Harry. "I bet she fancies the pants off Harry, but he wouldn't know a hint if it ran over and goosed him wearing nothing but a pink thong."

"What?" said Harry, confused and trying not to imagine a hint in a pink thong.

"It's true," said Hermione. "You are quite oblivious to these things."

"I had a crush on you for about a year, and you didn't notice," added Sally.

"What?" repeated Harry, now feeling like his head was about to explode. Ron looked equally shocked, and opened his mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it.

"Yeah," Sally continued, "when we were about sixteen. See, my point exactly. We were sharing a room and spending almost all our time together…stop having an aneurysm Ron…and you didn't have a clue."

"We should start a support group," said Ginny, giggling.

Sally turned to her, surprised. "You fancied Harry?"

"For ages! Until I was about fourteen. I even wrote him a poem one Valentines Day. How did it go again?"

"His eyes are as green as a fresh pickled toad," began Hermione.

"His hair is as dark as a blackboard," continued Ron, seemingly pleased that the subject had changed from his wife's teenage crush on his best friend.

"I wish he was mine, he's really divine," said Ginny, almost crying with laughter.

"The hero who conquered the Dark Lord," they finished together.

Sally was now on the floor in paroxysms of mirth. "What about you Hermione?" she said, trying to catch her breath. "Any embarrassing crushes to confess?"

As Hermione began to say something, Sally held up her hand. "And before you say Ron," she said, "that's not a confession, we all knew that."

"Well in that case there's no one I…" Hermione stopped, clearly having remembered something.

"Go on," said Ginny, intrigued.

"It was a tiny thing really, not even a proper crush…"

"Tell us!" said Ron, who was now interested, despite himself.

"Draco Malfoy."

Ron choked on his champagne. "But…but…" he spluttered.

"To be fair," said Sally thoughtfully, "he was quite good looking."

Ginny nodded in agreement. "Yeah, it was just unfortunate he was a complete git."

The conversation soon turned from teenage crushes to "Whatever happened to…", but Harry didn't really participate, mind still reeling from Sally's earlier revelation.

Harry lay in bed, staring at the dark ceiling. Three questions had been going through his mind for the last half hour, stopping him from getting to sleep. Am I still in love with Sally? How do I feel about the fact that Sally had a crush on me? and What the hell is that on my foot?

A brief exploration revealed that the thing on his foot was in fact Ginny's handbag. With question three now solved, he was free to ponder questions one and two. Thinking about the last few years, he wasn't sure whether or not he was still in love with Sally. The aching emptiness that he used to feel was certainly gone, but he supposed that a small part of him would always be in love with her. One thing was certain though – this was the last opportunity that he was ever going to let pass him by.

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I had a lot of fun writing it! Thanks to my lone reviewer Emma Barrows - you know, it has been said that reviewing can lower cholesterol, reduce body fat and generally make you look ten years younger...(hint hint!)