A/N: The chapter numbers are even more off now, but I'm planning on going back and adding titles. This was a chapter that was planned for a while, and as I consider it a continuation of the last one, I wanted to share it with you all. Thanks to the Discord and especially iKingBearII. Thanks for reading!
Harry hurried down the flight of stairs. Ginny still hadn't made a sound, but he didn't want to test how long that would hold out. He almost ran right into Mrs. Weasley on the third floor landing.
It was a very near miss. Unable to stop his momentum, he twisted to the side and hit the wall. His shoulder hurt from the impact, but he was grateful to have successfully avoided hitting her. Judging by the steam rising from the two cups she carried, they both would have been nursing some scalding wounds had he not.
"Harry!" She exclaimed in surprise. "What are you doing? Is Ginny okay?!" Her composure was rapidly deteriorating. She moved about nervously, as though looking for some place to put down the cups so that she could run up the stairs to her daughter.
"She's fine," he said quickly, concerned by the way the hot liquid was sloshing about. How she didn't feel it on her fingers was shocking to him. "I was actually just coming to get her some tea."
Her movements settled, though her eyes flicked to the stairs. Nervously, she said, "Oh… well, I just wanted to bring them up. Just to check, you know."
"I'm not sure that's a good idea," he replied. She looked like she was about to protest, so he elaborated, "She's… still confused by her nightmare. She didn't even want me to summon Kreacher, which is why I'm here. For now, it would probably only upset her to see you or anyone else."
She pursed her lips. He may have thought her irritated with him if it weren't for the sheen of tears in her eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said sincerely. He truly was. He could see how much this hurt her, hurt all of them really. Ginny was his number one concern, however. Gesturing to the cups she carried, he asked, "Do you mind? I don't really like leaving her alone right now."
She started. "Yes. Yes, of course." Gently she passed the cups over to him. Looking back up the steps she asked, "Are you sure…"
"I'll take good care of her, Mrs. Weasley. I swear it."
The smile she gave him was wobbly at best, but she nodded. "I know you will, dear." Her hand brushed his arm as he moved past her. He wasn't trying to be rude, but he'd been gone too long as it was.
"Thank you," he said over his shoulder, trying to soften his abrupt departure.
When he arrived at the door, he realized he had a problem. The door was firmly shut and he didn't have a free hand. He could put one of the cups down, but the floor was disgusting, so he cautiously kicked lightly on the door and called, "Gin? It's me." If she doesn't answer, I'll just put it down and not drink it.
It was an unnecessary thought. The door swung open and both cups were unceremoniously thrown from his hands as he was assaulted by a red blur that smelled strongly of flowers.
"Harry!" Ginny exclaimed, wrapping her eyes around him and squeezing quickly. She kept her arms firmly around his neck as she pulled back, revealing a huge smile on her face and bright eyes. "You're back!" She threw back her head and let out a delighted laugh. "I'm so glad you're here! I missed you!"
Harry gawked at her, wondering what the hell was going on. This was not the Ginny he had left minutes ago. Part of him was sure he'd stepped into an alternate universe, though he had no idea how. Perhaps he had actually fallen down the stairs and was hallucinating. His hands stung where the tea had spilled, though, and the broken china cracked beneath his feet as he stumbled a bit trying to balance with Ginny attached to him, assuring him that it was at least reality.
Trepidatiously, he asked, "Gin, are you alright?"
She pulled away fully then, laughter still on her face. "I'm fantastic now that you're here," she said enthusiastically. Her hands slid down his arms and took his hands. He flinched at the contact with the burns.
"What happened?" She asked overly confused. "Come here, I need better lighting," she said quickly, dragging him into Sirius's room. Her mouth formed an exaggerated "o" as she took in the mess on the floor of the open doorway. "I'm so sorry, Harry! I know a spell that will fix it! Mum was always using it on Charlie before he went to Romania. He used to have this orphaned baby fire crab and he was always getting burned. Not that he would admit what had done it, of course, but I really think Mum must have known…" She spoke quickly, trailing off with a smile on her face. A gasp escaped her as she realized she was still holding Harry's injured hand. "Oh! That's not important. Sorry! Anyway, I think you should cast the spell. Here, take it," she said, shoving his wand back into his right hand.
Harry just continued to gape at her. What the literal fuck is going on? It was his only coherent thought.
"Harry!" She admonished in good-natured exasperation. "Come on. Focus now."
Mechanically, he did what she said. Wrapping his hand around his wand and allowing her to demonstrate the wand movement. It was simple enough, just a circle around the area and a jab. He repeated the incantation after her, the pain receding from his left hand. She had him switch and do the right as well.
It probably would have been wise of him to pay attention and actually learn the spell, but his true attention had been focused on Ginny. Her behavior and demeanor was completely incomprehensible. He couldn't see any signs that she was faking her sudden cheer, but he also didn't understand her complete emotional turn about either.
When she looked up from inspecting his hands, she smiled brilliantly at him. "Fantastic! I was worried you wouldn't be able to do it. I'm not sure I could've done it with your wand. Between you and me," she said, leaning in as if to share a secret, "I don't think your wand quite agrees with me." The inappropriate thought, I very much doubt that, floated through his mind before he could stop it. He quickly beat back that line of thinking and focused on her words. "I'm feeling all funny and it's never been like this before. Though I've never cast a cheering charm with someone else's wand before either, so I guess - ".
Harry didn't let her finish, all previous thoughts having fled. "Cheering charm? What do you mean you cast a cheering charm? That's a fifth year spell, Gin. How do you know you did it right? You could have hurt yourself. I should get your mum or maybe Kreacher can…" he trailed off as he realized she was laughing at him.
"Hurt myself!" She said through giggle. "That's funny, really. I've known how to cast a cheering charm since I was eleven. Well, I couldn't cast one well, but I've known how. Madam Pomfrey didn't think I'd have the magical reserves to put enough power into it to cause any real damage, so she taught me after the Chamber. I could cast it well enough to keep from crying in the hallways between classes at least," she said flippantly. "And there was none of that nasty leveling out, you know how there's a recovery period of feeling depressed that's equal to the amount of time you spent under the charm feeling cheerful? Mine weren't strong enough for that. Of course, I haven't done it in several years either, so maybe it wasn't the wand at all… but I'm feeling better now, regardless. Especially now that you're back," she finished, wrapping her arms around him in another embrace.
Harry tried to piece it all together as he distractedly returned the embrace. She'd cast a cheering charm on herself, one that had clearly gone terribly wrong somehow. He couldn't imagine the fallout she was going to experience tomorrow, given how overpowered the charm seemed to be. He didn't think it was the wand or her age that was to blame however. He could still feel the influx of magic making him feel jittery and knew it must be having an even larger influence on her.
Now that he thought about it, it was probably influencing his own magic as well. He'd never before cast a healing charm, yet even with only a portion of his attention he was able to cast the one Ginny had shown him correctly on the first try. It wouldn't be a stretch to assume the magic had caused her to cast it with far too much efficiency, and likely too much power behind it as well.
Before he could think of what to do, she had pulled back and was beaming at him again. "Which is great! Because there's something I want to show you! Come on!" She had threaded her fingers with his and was pulling on his hand, bouncing a bit as she tried to pull him toward the bed.
He resisted her efforts and pulled back slightly. In her exuberance, she lost her balance and fell into his chest. He caught her, but the way she laughed at the clumsiness of the action made him more worried than before. She was acting like a drunk, a very happy drunk, but like someone under the influence none-the-less.
He put a hand to her cheek and lifted her face. She was still squinting through her amusement, obscuring her eyes a bit. "Ginny," he said seriously, "I need you to look at me, okay?"
His tone made her still and her eyes widened. Unblinkly she stared into his, but whispered, "What are you looking for?"
"I'm checking your pupils, making sure they're not dilated. That's a sign something is wrong." He really didn't know too much about this sort of thing, but he did know that much.
She rolled her eyes then and stuck out her tongue. With a gentle shove, she said in exasperation, "I'm fine, Harry. Don't be such a worrier, you loon."
Harry gave her a stern look, completely unamused by her blasé attitude. That was easy for her to say when she was out of her mind and giddy. It wasn't so easy for him, who had spent the entire day worried sick over her and was desperately afraid of any harm coming to her.
"You look exhausted, Ginny. You're bouncing around, talking a mile a minute, but the bags under your eyes are so dark they could be bruises. What do you expect me to think?" He asked brusquely.
"Oh!" She exclaimed brightly, pulling a vial of potion from her pocket and swallowing it before he could blink, let alone react. He watched in shock as her features brightened until her skin became it's normal tone. Smiling she asked, "Better, right? Thank you for reminding me! I should've taken that hours ago, no wonder you were worried."
Harry finally snapped out of his daze, grabbing the empty vial and sniffing it. It wasn't a scent he recognized. Harshly, he asked, "What did you just take?"
She laughed again. The sound, usually so pleasant, grated at him. It's not funny. Something could be wrong. Potions are dangerous. And she indicated she's been taking it a lot.
"Ginny," he said warningly.
She waved a dismissive hand. "It's just a very subtle glamour potion, Harry. It's perfectly safe. Fred and George made it for me years ago, and I've used it loads of times. I knicked the recipe and have been brewing it myself for ages. It's just so that no one worries when I'm... you know… tired. Nightmares and all that."
"Gin…" he said, at a loss. How often did she take it? How often did she have nightmares so bad that she felt the need to cover up the evidence with potions that she carried around with her? And her magic isn't the same right now. What if she has a bad reaction?
She huffed. "You really don't believe me? I'm fine!"
No, he really didn't believe her. People who were fine did not go around casting cheering charms on themselves. Despite having studied them this year, he really didn't know enough to understand whether or not she would be alright, especially with the potion. Indecision warred within him. He'd really prefer to have her mum look her over, but that seemed to be crossing a line that he couldn't come back from. He hated when people interfered with him that way and knew Ginny felt the same. But he couldn't do nothing. He'd never be able to live with himself.
"Kreacher!" He called. If he says she's going to be fine, I'll leave it alone, and if not, then I'll call Mrs. Weasley.
The elf appeared loudly, just as he always did. Harry noticed the bow he gave Ginny was much deeper than the one he had given Harry earlier. Even the way the elf looked at her was different. There was gratitude in his eyes.
"Mistress Ginevra," he said respectfully. "Master," he added to Harry, though it was with far less feeling. Ginny's eyes lit up at the greeting though and they flashed to Harry before turning back toward the elf.
"Hello Kreacher," she said warmly. "I'm so glad to hear you're listening to Harry too. He's very important to me, you see, and I really appreciate you showing him the respect he deserves," she praised, smiling at him.
Kreacher shot Harry a rather unpleasant look, but looked at Ginny with something disturbingly close to adoration. "Kreacher does what Mistress asks. She is nice to him and he wants to help." The elf's eyes sharpened as he looked at her more closely. "Mistress is not quite right now. She is under a cheering charm. Does she need Kreacher's assistance getting rid of it?" He asked eagerly.
"No, Kreacher. But thank you. I'm quite content right now, but I was hoping you would assure Harry that the cheering charm won't hurt me and that I'll be fine."
Kreacher looked at Harry and repeated the words she told him verbatim.
Harry scowled. "Tell me the truth," he ordered. Ginny huffed beside him, but he ignored her. She could be as irritated with him as she wanted for it. He needed to know for sure.
"Mistress will be fine," the elf reiterated, though he looked her over again. "But she needs food and drink." The elf disappeared with a crack before Harry could reply.
"See! I told you," Ginny said smugly. "Now, come on," she said, tugging him again.
He followed her this time. She seemed determined and energized enough that he wouldn't be able to talk her out of it, not when he was so exhausted himself. It had been a very long day, and sitting down with her on Sirius's bed, an area that had quickly begun to feel like their safe space, was a relief.
She wiggled and squirmed into position, seemingly struggling to get comfortable. Her side lined up with his, her shoulder and arm rubbing against his in a manner that was strongly reminiscent of a Crookshanks trying to work his way into Hermione's lap. The resemblance only increased when she bumped and adjusted him until his arm was slung round her and she was firmly tucked against his side, nuzzling his chest with her head beneath his chin. She sighed happily.
The moment was broken by a loud crack as Kreacher returned. Ginny's head collided with his chin painfully as she jumped in surprise and Harry instinctively pulled away from the source of the pain. Without him holding her, she slipped off the bed and landed with a thump on the floor.
Ginny was laughing at herself quite loudly. Her shoulders shook and she had her head tossed back. Harry wasn't nearly as amused, hastily reaching down to help her up. Kreacher was even less pleased than Harry.
He had levitated the tray of food he brought and was glaring at Harry with his hands on his hips. "Yous is a bad Master. You is not taking care of Mistress," he croaked reproachfully. "Kreacher told Master to be more careful with Mistress, but he does not listen," he said under his breath, pulling on his wrinkled ears.
Ginny shook Harry's helping hands off and leaned forward onto her knees. Gently, she stopped Kreacher. "None of that now," she admonished softly. "We're just fine here. Harry has been taking good care of me, I promise. That was my fault," she said clearly. She turned to Harry then, smiling, "I'm quite sorry, Harry. Forgive me?" She asked with an exaggerated pout.
Harry let out an exasperated breath, the pain in his jaw exacerbating his annoyance that the little elf kept giving him shit and that Ginny seemed to baby him. "Yes," he said shortly.
Ginny didn't take any offense at his tone. She smiled brilliantly, winked, and turned to Kreacher. "See! We're just perfect! And you brought snacks. Thank you, Kreacher. I really am hungry. It's very much appreciated."
The elf bowed lowly once more. "Kreacher is happy to be of service, Mistress. Would you like Kreacher to stay?" He shot Harry a suspicious look as he said it.
Who the hell does he think he is? Indignation swelled. I've done more to protect Ginny than he ever will. He shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his left hand. He's just a stupid elf and will be gone soon, he reminded himself. Harry vaguely heard Ginny laugh and dismiss Kreacher while he tried to bite his tongue.
He relaxed his pose when he heard the crack of Kreacher disappearing. He hadn't dropped his hand yet before it was yanked by Ginny.
"Merlin!" She gasped, staring at his hand. She giggled and asked laughingly, "Why in Godric's name are you wearing this? It looks ridiculous!"
Harry followed her gaze to where the small ring was stuck above the second joint of his pinky. He had forgotten that she wouldn't have been aware that he'd made the switch, and it did look quite silly. Still, the greater part of his attention was caught on the fact that she could look at the ring and laugh, when earlier today the sight of it had made her look sick.
"You were having a hard time, so I switched them," he explained flatly. "It helped."
Her laughter softened then and the look she gave him was so full of warmth and tenderness that he had the urge to blush. It was surprising. He'd done a lot of things today that normally would have embarrassed him to the point of turning tomato red, but he hadn't felt anything of the sort then. The way she was looking at him right now though…
"Thank you," she said fervently before leaning up and pressing a soft kiss on his cheek. He thought there may be a permanent mark left by her lips from the way his skin burned at the contact. She pulled back too quickly and winked at him, "See, you do take care of me. Silly Kreacher doesn't know what he's talking about!" A little chuckle found its way through Harry's lips. She was completely ridiculous, but her happiness, the feeling of her lips still burning his cheek, and her poking fun at Kreacher had him feeling better. She looked even happier at the sound. "Speaking of silly, let's get that off of you."
His smile dropped and he pulled his hand away. "That's a bad idea, Gin. You can't be without one and it really hurt you the last time you wore both. I don't want to do that again," he let out a little shiver at the memory. "I'm happy to look ridiculous if we don't have to do that again," he added dryly.
She gave him a funny, calculating look. Her lips were pursed and her eyes narrowed as she took his hand again and stared at it in concentration. Since she wasn't trying to remove the ring from his finger, he allowed her to adjust his hand, turning it this way and that until she finally found a position that made her happy. Her face lit up and she exclaimed, "Ah-ha!"
Harry's left hand was palm up, his fingertips touching the tips of Ginny's fingers where her left hand was making a straight line with his. Face down as hers was positioned, she had managed to line up their fingers up so that her fourth was touching his pinky where Walburga's ring was, while her index baring Orion's ring touched his fourth finger. Her right hand closed around Orion's ring as she said, "You'll have to help."
He nodded and positioned his right hand over Walburga's ring. He understood what she intended now; if they worked in tandem, then they could return the rings to their original positions on the other without her losing contact or having to wear both. It was a surprisingly smart idea for someone in her state. "One. Two. Three," he counted and they moved simultaneously. Then it was done, and the unconscious fear he had that something would go wrong was gone.
Ginny pulled back and shook out all her limbs. "Wow, that's weird. It's even more tingly," she said. Harry understood, as the strange feeling of the strong magic he had been experiencing was lessened again now that they had switched.
Harry didn't have time to dwell on it, because Ginny was looking at him intensely again. Earnestly, she said, "I really mean it, Harry. I don't remember making it here and I can only assume it was thanks to you, but I do remember earlier at Gringotts and how much you've been helping me. I can't tell you how much I appreciate it." The gratitude in her voice was a heavy thing as it settled over him.
He had to force himself past the emotion that was rising to reply, "Of course." She'd been helping him too, after all.
He couldn't continue though, because her hand was on his chest, a look of reverence in her eyes, and she was too close. Truthfully, he wanted to pull her even closer and do many things that he knew he shouldn't, but he also knew she wasn't acting herself right now. He couldn't risk letting his hormones take over when he couldn't trust her actions were truly her own.
He took her hand, removing it from his chest and placing it between them. "Didn't you say you were hungry?" He asked, gesturing to the food Kreacher had brought.
"Oh! Yes! But I want you to look at what I found first!" She said, picking up the journal that had belonged to Sirius and flipping through the pages.
"What is it?" He asked cautiously, uncertain that he truly wanted to know what the book could tell him.
"Well," she said with great flourish, "I was reading Sirius's journal again and came across something I think you should see, because you've been so sad. And I don't like seeing you that way. And neither would Sirius. Soooo… I thought maybe reminding you of the good memories would cheer you up!" Then she thrust the book toward him and pointed to where she wanted him to read.
August 12, 1995
Harry has been cleared of all charges! Now, I've said quite a nasty bit about Dumbledore lately, but the man did come through for my boy, so I'm willing to let it go.
He's an amazing kid. A bit broody, maybe, but what teenager isn't? It's not like he doesn't have more reason that most, either. Besides, he's much better than James and I ever were. He's got Lily's temper though, that's for sure.
I'll admit here (and only here) that the most selfish part of me wished he could have stayed here with me, but not so much that I'm not still happy for him. The look of relief on his face said it all in regard to how desperately he wanted to return to Hogwarts with his friends. I can't say I blame him - they really are a good group. James would be pleased. Even when he's a thick-headed git, they stick by him, and there's not much more a guy could ask for.
Last night, a moment came that I hadn't anticipated, though I should have. I taught Harry to shave and tie a proper tie (not just loosening the half-arsed job on his school tie and retightening it). I had always imagined James would do the boring, stand-up life lessons, and I would be there to talk to about girls and illegal animagus transformations, and it was surreal to be in the position where James should have stood. I would have sworn I could feel James in the room as it happened.
I even told him about the toy "bwoom" I sent for his first birthday. He laughed as I told him how Lily sent a letter that berated me for it, while James sent me a separate letter applauding it. Harry soaked the whole thing up. I haven't laughed like that in as long as I can remember. I wish I could have found that picture to show him.
And for the first time in a long time… I felt hope, surreal as it was. James is gone. Lily is gone. But Harry is still here and he has a life to live. If I never leave this house again, if I never do anything else of significance ever again, it will be alright as long as I keep helping Harry live that life. I'll make sure their sacrifice was not in vain.
I think until last night, I had lost sight of that. Being cooped up here, in the prison of both my childhood and present, it's easy to get sucked into the despair and forget why I'm still here and why I escaped prison after twelve years. I wanted Harry to survive, but more than that, I wanted him to have a chance to truly live. James and Lily did that - they made the most of the time they had, even though it wasn't as much as they deserved.
I've cut down on spending time looking for a way to keep him safe in order to spend as much time as possible with him, but I'm going to keep looking whenever I can. He deserves to live a free life. He deserves everything this world can give him. I'm going to do whatever it takes to make sure he has the opportunity to get it.
And I'm going to do my best to truly live too. Last night, I finally let go of some of the weight I've been carrying around. I know there's a long way to go. I know I'll probably forget again and fall back into that hole, but I'm going to try.
Speaking of the kids, it's time for me to head downstairs.
The page ended there, and Harry flipped it, only to find it was an entry for another day. He didn't get a chance to read it before Ginny placed her hand over his. He looked up and met her shining eyes.
"See? He was so proud of you and loved you very much. You brought him actual joy, even in this place. I just thought you may have needed reminding. I know how hard it can be, and so did he," she finished, gesturing to the book and squeezing his hand.
He couldn't speak through the lump in his throat, a vortex of emotions swirling inside him at what he had read of his godfather's thoughts, and settled for nodding.
Her kind smile morphed into one of excitement. "I've been dying to know - did he ever find that picture? The one of you on the 'bwoom'," she joked with a laugh, though it wasn't at all cruel. On the contrary, it was pleasant and delighted at the possibility. "I can't believe I fell asleep last night, by the way. I must have missed so many good pictures! Was it in the album?" She asked eagerly, as if the thought of baby Harry on a broom was something magnificent.
Unfortunately, it wasn't. He shook his head. Even he heard the disappointment in his voice as he replied, "No. I don't think he ever found it. I looked through the whole section, but it wasn't there."
"Oh," she said. Dismayed, her face fell for only a moment before it perked back up in excitement. Gripping his arm with both her hands and bouncing a bit, she said, "But there were so many good ones, and I know there must have been more. Can we look at it again? Pretty please?"
Her eyes were bright and wide with earnestness, the brown resembling swirling melted chocolate, The fervor in them brought on a sweet feeling that was akin to the taste of it on his tongue. He nodded almost absently, caught under the spell of it.
"Eek!" She squealed, breaking out of his trance. Damn, that was loud, he winced, rubbing his ear. He hadn't thought Ginny was one of those girls who could burst an eardrum in their excitement, but apparently she was at the moment. He shook off the oddness at seeing her like that, reminding himself that she couldn't be held responsible for her actions in this state.
As he watched her practically float back to the bed with his book already open, he forgot about it. She was just too endearing to watch. Her face was once more lit by a brilliant smile as she looked intensely at the photos on the page, completely absorbed by what she saw. She didn't immediately sit down when she reached the bed, just stopped in front of him with an almost loving look on her face as she stroked one of the photos.
When she finally tore her eyes away from the page, it was to look at him. There was a sheen of tears had built up, though her expression was a happy one. "You have got to be the cutest child I have ever seen, Harry. I mean, just look at this!" She said, plopping down next to him and lying the open book across both their laps.
There were two pictures side-by-side of him as a baby. In the first, he was just barely managing to toddle across the carpeted floor, his tiny hands twined tightly in Padfoot's fur, who loyally trodded beside him and helped correct his balance. In the second, he fell onto his bum and looked about to cry until Padfoot came and licked his face, and the baby version of him broke out into giggles.
"Just look at you two," she said. Her head had come to rest on his shoulder as they watched the scenes repeat, so he couldn't see her smile, but he could hear it. "You can just see the love and how happy you both are."
She was right. He could see it. The feeling it evoked was bittersweet, however. He felt warmed by the sight, but also great sorrow that they had had so little time like that. Doing his best to push the sadness aside, he turned the page and said, "There are more like that. Let me show you."
"Please do," she replied happily.
For a while, they passed the time like that, with him showing her the various images she had missed and then reading the descriptions together. Never once did her delight at seeing him in his youth diminish, and her enthusiasm began to spread to him against his will.
He couldn't help it; the sound of her unencumbered laughter and the way her smile truly reached her eyes was infectious. Harry had to admit to himself that in his darkest moments that day, he had worried he may never get to see them again. Yet here she was, happier than he'd seen her in years. The best part of him fought against it though, feeling guilty for finding any enjoyment in something that was truly terrible, because he knew it wasn't real. He still found himself laughing and smiling with her anyway.
Just before the last page, he shut the book, having remembered the picture of him in the tub, his baby genitals on full display, and also the section that came after. He didn't get a chance to explain before Ginny gave an indignant cry.
"Hey! What did you do that for?" She complained, "It wasn't over! And I was having so much fun," she added, reaching for the book.
He pulled it further from her reach. "There's only one more page and," he felt the blush rise, but continued anyway, "I'm taking a bath in the last one. You don't need to see that."
She rolled her eyes at him. "Harry," she said with great emphasis. "You were a baby. Everyone knows baby nudity doesn't count!"
"Really? So if I were to go ask your mum for pictures of naked baby-Ginny, you'd have absolutely no problem with that?" He challenged, raising an eyebrow at her.
"Of course not!" She said cheerfully. "And fair is fair, after all. I'll show you mine first if you'll show me yours," she finished with a wink.
Harry gaped for a moment. He couldn't help but wonder briefly if she kept saying things like that on purpose. He quickly corrected his expression, casting the thought aside. There's no way.
While he was distracted, she must have checked the time, because she was pouting at the clock on the desk. "Oh man," she exhaled in disappointment, "why did it have to get so late? She'll never help right now. I'd probably just be sent to bed. Boo."
"Yeah, best not bother her," Harry replied, relief and her contagious cheer making it sound far too happy.
She narrowed her eyes at his tone, before smiling again. "Oh well, I'm sure there are loads of other things we can look at it in there!"
"Oh, er…" Harry hesitated. He hadn't explored much of the book, having been too afraid of the stories it would tell and being distracted by thoughts of his new feelings for Ginny after that. "Yeah, I guess," he acquiesced, not wanting to talk about all that.
Being careful not to open to the section containing sex advice - that would be truly humiliating - he opened to a random section and was surprised to find it was all about general betrothal protocols used by the old families. Ginny let out a small gasp and they shared a look of surprise, before both reading quickly.
Most of it was self explanatory or otherwise to be expected, but it did explain why Harry had been given the Black rings instead of Ginny. Apparently, the rings come from the family of greater status, no matter the gender, as the wealthier family would not lower its standards, and are given to the male party to give to his betrothed when it's announced. Harry had just reached the next section, detailing what it meant to be Head of an ancient and noble family when Ginny spoke.
"I guess we should have read this sooner," she said. There was no recrimination in her tone, but it was far too chipper from the cheering charm for Harry to count on her judgement of the situation.
He sighed, feeling guilty. "You're right. It would have been good to know ahead of time."
She bumped his shoulder and attempted to give him a stern look, but her eyes were lit up and she was having a hard time keeping the smile off her face. In other circumstances that look would have made him feel lighter, but knowing it was artificial dimmed the effect.
"What have I told you about blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault to begin with?" She scolded with an exaggerated wag of her finger.
The gesture was ridiculous and Harry managed to laugh at it. He suddenly did feel better, because even though her exuberance was still fake, she had said those words to him when she was half-asleep that first night, and it seemed that those sleepy words always came from an honest place. Right after she said she loved me. The memory made his laughter dry up.
He still didn't know exactly what she meant by that. It was doubtful that she meant it in a romantic way. She had thrown it out so cavalierly. But she had also stated it plainly, as if it were an obvious fact he should already know, and he knew she meant the words. It made him feel a sort of nervous excitement that he was unaccustomed to.
He knew now wasn't the time to talk about it - in her present state she more resembled a drunk and it felt like taking advantage of her to do so - but the words slipped out. "You said that you loved me, but you were too tired to make me feel better about it."
Her cheeks didn't flush with embarrassment, further proving that she wasn't in her right mind. Instead her eyes danced and she nodded. "That's exactly right. I'm glad you remembered," she emphasized it with a pat on the chest. "We now know and that's good enough." She squinted, "Why haven't you read it? Not that I'm judging of course. I stared at my things for what felt like hours before I did anything at all with them. It was strange, you know? Like I desperately wanted to know what he had given me but was also terrified, because once I did it, there would be no turning back. He really would be gone, then."
Her rambling came to an end with a large intake of breath. The words had been so rushed that he wasn't sure she had stopped to breath at all during the entire speech. Despite knowing it was the magical influence, Harry couldn't help finding amusement in it and he laughed. She really can talk, can't she?
When he stopped, he realized she was looking at him expectantly, still waiting for a reply to her original question. The amusement died. He didn't really want to talk about this. She probably can't stop herself from sharing whatever she's thinking right now. It's not fair that you get to keep your secrets when she doesn't, his inner voice chided.
"I was afraid of that at first," he admitted. He forced himself to continue, "but I was more afraid of the stories he had to tell me. Remember at Easter time when I wanted to talk to him?" She nodded intently, clearly soaking in every word he said. "Well, I had seen a memory of Snape's. My dad," he had to swallow past the lump in his throat to continue, "my dad and Snape went to school together, see, and in the memory, my dad was a real jerk. He started bullying Snape. He was cruel, and it was all because Sirius had said he was bored. It's just… since I joined the wizarding world, people have told me about how much like him I am, like it was something to be proud of… but what kind of person does that?" The question came out desperately.
She looked at him compassionately. "So that's why you wanted to talk to him?" At his nod, she gently asked, "What did Sirius say when you asked him?"
Harry let out a sigh. "He said he was fifteen, as if that was some kind of excuse. I'm fifteen, but I'd never think it was okay to act like Malfoy."
"No, you wouldn't," she said quietly. Her brow furrowed for a moment and she actually went quiet. He wished her chatter would pick back up, because then he wouldn't have to think about it.
The silence insisted on being filled, and he found more words pouring out. "Sirius didn't seem to think it was a big deal at all, and he'd been laughing in the memory. I've clung to this idea that my parents were these great people… and I'm not sure I could take it if they weren't."
Her face was pinched in what would have been a comical expression if the context of their discussion hadn't been weighing on him so heavily. It was still somehow endearing. Until she giggled.
Harry couldn't contain his scowl. It wasn't remotely funny to him. She's been through a lot today, reminded himself. He jaw clenched as he tried to fight the indignation that was swiftly rising. She's not in her right mind.
Ginny caught his expression and covered her hand with her mouth, though some giggles still slipped through. "Oh! I'm sorry, Harry! I don't mean to laugh, but it's just so silly." She giggled again and Harry wanted to pull away from her, but no matter how angry he was, he didn't want to hurther. Instead he turned his head away and glared at the floor.
Calming down, she took his face in her hands forcing him to look at her. Even with the elevated cheer he knew she felt, she still managed to look serious in the moment. That more than anything was enough to wash away the anger. Her gaze was steady and her voice earnest as she explained.
"That was one moment, Harry. It was just one moment in a lifetime of moments. That one moment doesn't define him."
"But Sirius-".
"Sirius, and your father, were both children." He made to interrupt, but she plowed on. "They were foolish and immature, the way children are supposed to be." A little sadness managed to creep into her expression, and it made Harry's chest hurt.She shouldn't have been able to look that way with the charm in place. "They weren't like us, Harry. They didn't have to grow up before their time."
Harry fell quiet, closing his eyes as he considered what she had said. It still didn't sit right, though. He couldn't forget that it had all been instigated because Sirius had said he was bored. When he reopened his eyes to ask, she was still staring at him.
"Think about your fourth year, when Ron didn't believe you about entering your name or when he rowed with Hermione after the Yule Ball. Anyone seeing only those moments would never understand how the three of you could possibly be friends. But you're the closest group of friends I've ever met, because of all the other moments you've shared. Don't let a single moment taken out of context prevent you from learning more about your dad," she encouraged, having understood that he was still struggling. "Haven't you ever done or said something rash that you regret?"
Yes. While that was true, the actions he regretted weren't comparable. Ginny seemed to understand again. Would it ever stop amazing him that she could do that? She didn't seem as mystified by their connection though, dropping her hands and gaze to her lap.
Quietly, she said, "No. I suppose you wouldn't have. I have though."
"What are you talking about?" He asked quickly, struck by her demeanor as much as the admission. He couldn't imagine her just attacking someone without provocation.
"I hexed Malfoy once." Harry scoffed, relaxing again. Malfoy was a wanker who more than likely deserved it. She looked at him sharply. "I'm serious. It was out on the grounds around the Black Lake my second year. I was sitting with Padfoot, actually, hidden in our little copse of trees when Malfoy strolled by with Pansy. He hadn't even seen me, but just looking at him holding hands with her, enjoying his life when his father had ruined mine… it made me so angry that I hit him with the Bat-Bogey Hex while his back was turned."
"You had every right to be angry with him, Gin. He may not have known about the Chamber, but he's done and said some terrible things to you and your family," he soothed.
"I know that," she said, finally looking back up at him. "But anyone watching that memory from his point of view wouldn't see that. All they'd see was me attacking him without cause. That's what I mean though… you shouldn't make assumptions without context. Given what a git he is now as a teacher, I doubt he was much better as a student. I'm not saying he deserved it exactly, but who knows what their history was like."
It took a minute for the words to really sink in and relief to start spreading. Her points actually made sense. Snape and his father probably did have a history, and it wasn't like Snape had shown himself to be pleasant or kind in the memory at all.
"He called my mum a mudblood," he admitted. Her wide eyes turned toward him and her jaw dropped. He grimaced and nodded. "Yeah. She was defending him, yelling at my dad, and he got angry with her."
"Wow," she said, still looking to be in shock. "That's just… huh. Your mum yelled at your dad?"
"Yeah," he admitted. That was another thing that had never sat well. It seemed like Lily Evans had hated James Potter. Seeing the relationship they had in that memory made it seem impossible that they had ever become the loving couple that the photographs in his album depicted. "Her expression when she looked at him… I don't even know how they could have fallen in love and gotten married a few short years after that."
"Everyone grows up, Harry," she said, taking his hand. She squeezed it, then added, "and people can change. Just look at us!"
He gave a single chuckle, because it was true that they and their relationship had certainly changed. Their situation had involved a lot of extenuating circumstances, however, and he couldn't apply the logic to his parents and come out feeling better.
She leaned strongly into him then, giving him a full body hug. Unprepared for it, he lost his balance, sending them backward onto the bed. She didn't seem to notice or care about their change in position. Her breath was warm in his ear but sent shivers down his spine as she gently reminded him, "Single moments, Harry."
Her grip was tight around his neck, but her movements had been sloppy enough that she was practically splayed across him now. Harry's bodily reaction was entirely inappropriate given the situation that had preceded it. He pulled back a bit, trying to keep her from feeling what she was doing to him and also to put an end to the contact so that it could fade.
"Please don't," she said. "I want to stay like this. You make me feel better, Harry."
Harry froze, the begging in her request not lost on him. Still, it was inappropriate to be in such a position. While they'd slept in the same bed and had contact like this before, her family was actually aware that they were up there this time. They'd been left in peace for now, but it was too much to hope that no one would check in at all during the night. Cautiously, he said, "Gin, I don't know if that's such a good idea."
She pulled back a bit to look at him. The pout on her face and the way it emphasized the shape of her soft-looking lips was entirely too enticing to help the situation is his trousers. He was decidedly grateful when she dropped it in favor of rambling. "You like me, don't you? We're friends. I mean, I thought we were friends now. But I could be wrong. We weren't friends for a long time-"
"We would've been friends sooner if you would have stayed in the same room as me long enough for me to get to know you." It was an entirely unnecessary interjection, and came out somewhat bitter. Over the course of the last two days he had begun to lament the lost time he could have had with her had things been different, and it had just slipped out as a result.
"I know," she said glumly. Her demeanor straightened then and she continued more firmly, "But I'm not her anymore, you know that right? I haven't been in a long time. 'Little Ginny Weasley' is dead. Tom killed her." He flinched. It wasn't only her words, but the way she said it. He made to interrupt again, but she carried on swiftly. "Actually, he just started it. There was a little bit of her left. I killed her."
It was far too jarring a statement for Harry to form a coherent response. He said somewhat blankly, "What?"
"Well, she held on," she said slowly, her brow furrowed again, a crease forming between them. "Remember when Ron said you should take me to the Yule ball?" She continued without waiting for a response, "I swear my heart skipped a beat when he said that. At first, I was disappointed, see, because I was going with Neville already. But then I was disappointed in myself for being disappointed at all, and I finally realized it meant she was still there." Her expression twisted with bitterness as she continued, "and I hated her, because she was supposed to be gone."
"Gin," Harry said slowly, buying time. While he hadn't quite understood everything, he thought he got the point… but there was something more pressing he wanted to address. "You're not two different people. It's like you said before, everyone grows into someone different."
She let out a long-suffering sigh. While the cheer from her charm had clearly fled, her behavior was still obviously suffering as a result. "I know, but I was just so disappointed with that pathetic part of myself. And she had to go. So I talked to Hermione and she said I should see other people and just be myself around you," she explained, rambling a bit more slowly than she had earlier. An echo of her earlier enthusiasm returned as she continued, "And Hermione was right! Because if I kept avoiding you, I was just feeding into her and how she thought you were someone special, someone set apart from everyone else. So I did. Because I couldn't let her stay. And then I grew up, and she finally disappeared. And here we are, friends now."
"Yes. We are," Harry replied firmly, because by now he had realized he wouldn't be able to reason with her on this point, not when she wasn't in her right mind. Furthermore, she seemed to be falling further into maudlin and he didn't want her to doubt that in any capacity.
Despite his efforts to be reassuring, she frowned, looking confused. "But why?" She asked, sounding more perplexed than he thought the situation warranted. "Is it the bonding? Or just that you feel bad? Because I don't need pity, you know. That's something she would have accepted - your attention for any reason - and I don't," she once again emphasized the difference between the two versions of herself. "I want to be me and people can either like me or not," she finished stoutly.
The question gave him pause. He wasn't really sure, nor had he considered it in depth before. Now though, he took his time considering the matter. She deserved an honest and complete answer, not cheap reassurance.
Is it just the bonding? He had certainly felt much closer to her since Sirius had died. Could it all have been just because of the bond Sirius's magic had created when the betrothal was sealed by his death? For a moment, doubt settled in, making him question everything. Feeling sad that perhaps he had been wrong, that they didn't naturally understand each other the way he had thought, he looked down at her.
There was a hard look on her face that was part determination and part defiance. Her shining red hair framed her face as her nose scrunched when a thought occurred to her. She turned to meet his gaze, and he was caught completely by her brown eyes and the way they blazed with passionate resolution. Looking into them, he was reminded of the many other times she'd looked like this. He could remember seeing hints of this look before, like when she called him out at Christmas or when she helped him find a way to contact Sirius when it had seemed impossible. Until recently, he had just never looked hard enough to recognize it.
Things were different now. Harry had always had too much going on, too many outside pressures to really focus on the little things. And Ginny had always been so undemanding of him that he had never taken the time to really pay attention to her. He suddenly wished that she had, because he was certain that if she had ever wanted his attention on her, she would have had it and he would have seen her for who she really is. Then again, he thought, she wouldn't be the brilliant but unassuming witch she is if she had, and I probably wouldn't be so impressed.
She was now an integral part of the drama that always seemed to surround him. The circumstances had finally allowed - possibly even forced - him to notice her the way he always should have. All the things he liked about her had always been there, but had just been obscured by circumstance. She had always been there like this, just as wonderful, but out of sight and out of mind. Now that he was finally aware of it, he knew he would have fallen for her with or without the bonding.
"No, Gin," he finally replied. "It's not just the bonding, though it helps make things clearer."
The blazing, resolute look faded into something softer, more vulnerable. "Promise?" she asked, unsurely. "Because you're the only person I can feel. They're all gone now, and I don't want you to leave me too."
His heart ached for her. He'd been alone for most of his life and knew how much loneliness could hurt. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."
"Maybe… maybe you could be my family? And I'll be yours?" She asked in a whisper.
The pain in his chest increased. He'd always wanted a family - the Mirror of Erised had proven that - but he had always wanted the family he had lost. It had never occurred to him to want to build one of his own. The image he had seen when Bill was talking about genetics flashed again in his mind - it was of a laughing red-haired, green eyed child carefully tucked between Harry's arms on a broom - and he suddenly realized he wanted that for himself.
Ginny sagged a bit in his arms and he looked down at her. When he saw her eyes had slid away from his and she was biting her lip, he realized he hadn't answered her question. Quickly, he shoved his previous thoughts away and said with feeling, "Yes."
The way she sighed and melted against him chased away everything, and he felt the world around him narrow down until it was just her. "Mmkay," she mumbled as she snuggled closer. She let out a long yawn. "Thank you, Harry," she said. He felt the breath from her words through his shirt, just over his heart. "I love you."
It wasn't so surprising hearing it this time, and he didn't tense up at the unexpected emotion it brought. His heart still beat rapidly below her cheek at the words, however, and he knew she must have heard it like thunder. She didn't react, to his surprise, and he realized that must have been her last thought before she drifted off to sleep. Somehow it warmed him and he closed his eyes to better enjoy the sensation.
The next Harry knew, he had once more found himself in a dream that was preferable to reality. He was lying on a blanket beneath the trees of the orchard at the Burrow, Ginny curled up with her back pressed to his front. The flowery scent of her hair filled his senses, the quiet open air around them filling him with calm. Her bum nestled against his pelvis, and with a giggle, she squirmed, rubbing against his hardening length. In the dream he felt no embarrassment, somehow aware that it was completely normal between them there, like they had done this countless times before. He gripped her tighter, her name falling from his lips in a cross between a moan and a sigh at the sensations she was evoking..
The dream quickly dissolved as she disappeared from his arms. A noise woke him fully. He was alone in bed, surrounded by the darkness of the room, not under the shade of trees with Ginny. The warmth of the sheets beside him told him that she hadn't been gone long, however, and he assumed it was the sound of the door shutting that had woken him. Groaning in embarrassment and frustration, he prayed he hadn't done anything in his sleep to chase her off. He had a sinking feeling he had though.