Harry couldn't believe how much had happened in the last week. After getting ready that first morning, he had gone down to breakfast in search of Ginny, unaware that she was already gone. It had been a teary-eyed Mrs. Weasley being comforted by Hermione that greeted him in the kitchen instead.
"Ginny left for Neville's place," Hermione answered his unasked question. She shot a worried look at Mrs. Weasley before continuing quietly, "She said she couldn't stay here, that it felt like he was here, because of all the snakes…" she trailed off as Mrs. Weasley let out a sound like she was choking.
"I didn't know that she was still having so much trouble… I would have - maybe we could have…" she gave up as Hermione hugged and shushed her.
"Oh," Harry said. He wasn't sure what to say. While he didn't think Ginny would tell such a painful lie, he couldn't shake the feeling that her flight was more to do with him than the house. They had talked pretty frankly the night before, and if anyone were to understand feeling like Voldemort was with you when he shouldn't be, it was him. She would have talked to him, right?
Further comment was unnecessary as Mrs. Weasley pulled away from Hermione. The way she brushed herself off, straightened her shoulders, and wiped all the sadness from her face was so reminiscent of the way he'd seen her daughter pull herself together that Harry found himself looking at the flames in the gate, longing to go after Ginny.
Mr. Weasley saved him from that impulse by asking for a word with him. Or, Harry thought he was being saved, until he caught the serious look on the older man's face. "I believe Ron is in the shower. Would you mind following me to your room? It will only be a minute."
Harry took a seat on his bed and watched Mr. Weasley apprehensively. The Weasley patriarch had his back turned to him, silently examining the empty portrait of Phineas Nigellus. As the silence extended, Harry felt a shiver of apprehension. He knows you were in the room last night and he probably knows that neither of you left it. Of course you're in trouble.
"Sir," Harry began, but Mr. Weasley shook his head and he fell silent. When Ginny's father turned around, Harry was surprised to see that he wasn't angry; his face was drawn and tired looking, but there was no reproach in it.
"I gave my wife a Sleeping Draught last night," he started. "I knew she'd be a mess, but it wouldn't help anyone to have her fretting or interfering. I couldn't sleep myself, so I checked in on you."
Harry gulped. He'd known that someone would check on them, hadn't he? He shouldn't have fallen asleep with her in bed like that, but…
Mr. Weasley smiled kindly at him before his thoughts could become too negative. "I don't intend to share what I found with Molly, Harry. It's…" he gave a rueful chuckle. "I know I'm supposed to threaten you or be angry, but you've never done any one of us harm." His face grew serious. "I can't imagine you ever doing so, and you've been a greater help to Ginny than any of us could be. After what I saw last night, you're clearly what she needs… and it was equally as clear that you're willing and able to be there for her."
Harry nodded a bit numbly. This what not what he had expected. Instead of reassuring him however, Mr. Weasley's wording had struck a chord of doubt in him. It was beginning to grow and spread even as he tried to listen to what the older man was now saying.
"Thank you for being there for her, Harry. It's a difficult thing to trust your baby to another, but it makes things a bit easier having seen that." Mr. Weasley then gave Harry a direct look and said, "We've done you both a terrible injustice with this betrothal. I know that we took something from you both, but… we love you like one of our own sons, Harry. We want you to be safe too."
Harry knew it had been far too long since he said anything, so he nodded, letting the other man know he had heard him at least. It was a bit overwhelming, hearing that they cared for him so much, and the doubt…
Mr. Weasley seemed to understand that he needed some time to himself and made his farewell. Harry quickly decided his room wasn't private enough and headed to spend some time with Buckbeak in the master bedroom. He could use the company, Harry thought, trying to convince himself he wasn't hiding.
He couldn't hide from his own thoughts though. It was during his time with Buckbeak that the doubts started to form concretely in his mind, lining up like dominos until they are collided and fell toward a painful conclusion.
Mr. Weasley had said he, Harry, was what Ginny needed. She needed him. Wasn't that why he had felt so close to Sirius too, because he needed him? It made him feel different… special.
He had also said that he and Ginny had had something taken from them. The words he had overheard Ginny saying to Ron that first night came back to him. All she had ever wanted was to love and to be loved, but the betrothal had - and by extension, he had - taken that from her.
Hermione had said he had a "saving people thing". Was that what everything he thought he was feeling came down to? Was it just that he saw Ginny had needed him, felt like she had already given too much, and he wanted to save her from losing even more?
Ginny had asked him just the night before if it was just the bonding, why they were suddenly friends. He knew that wasn't true. They had been friends before that, though not as close. He had also privately thought it was more, but she had been looking at him so vulnerable, asking him to be her new family, that it was no wonder he couldn't deny her. She had inspired him to want to create his own future and family, but was he really just projecting what he thought she wanted?
What if somehow the idea had formed just because he didn't want to feel like he had taken something away from her by being bonded to him? He knew that it had been done to protect her, but he couldn't help feeling she never would have been in that position if it weren't for him.
Hadn't Tom said she'd written to him about Harry? Hadn't she taken the diary back into her possession to get it away from him? Would Ron have been there for her if he hadn't been so caught up with Harry? Maybe he was just imagining his want because he refused to rob her of what she so desperately desired.
As low as that idea made him feel, it was made worse by the fact that it was pointless to worry about. Whether it was because he genuinely liked her or because of some misguided hero complex didn't matter when he had so thoroughly chased her off. So he whiled away the time shut in the musty room with Buckbeak, asking himself if he'd ever learn how to do right by Ginny Weasley.
The next three days until Ginny's nightmare and their talk had passed similarly. Ginny avoided him and the rest of Grimmauld Place as much as possible. Harry spent his time brooding and sulking in the company of Buckbeak, who provided him with the closest thing to comfort he could find in Ginny's absence. He spent his nights in Sirius's room, though Ginny never came. His doubts only grew, until he was sure he'd lied to himself and her.
But then she had the nightmare and his doubts didn't matter. Whatever the truth about his feelings, Ginny and her feelings mattered to him. Taking care of her mattered.
It was true that he hadn't been happy when she had disappeared to Longbottom Manor that first day after Gringotts without so much as a word of explanation to him. He'd kept quiet though, blaming himself for making her uncomfortable with his morning predicament and feeling guilty for his convoluted feelings. His self-recrimination had shifted to anger at her when it became apparent that he hadn't chased her off so much as she had just run away.
It rankled that she hadn't trusted him at first. Especially when he thought she had trusted Neville instead. Those feelings dissipated when he had seen how vulnerable she was as she admitted the whole truth.
Letting go of the hurt feelings had been easier than anticipated. He supposed he could have held onto his worst thoughts, but it didn't seem fair. He was intimately familiar with how hard changing your habits could be. After all, how many times had he promised himself he was going to get closer to her over the years only to be distracted by the next big thing? He'd forgotten as recently as this semester.
And they'd shared something, when their eyes met and he touched her cheek. Everything besides her had been so far away in that moment, and he had been so tempted to just lean in and kiss her. Luckily some part of his brain was still functioning and he had been able to come to his senses before that. He'd done a lot of stupid things over the years, but he was pretty sure that would have topped them for most embarassing and complicated.
Having decided to move on, he had woken up feeling much lighter than he had in a long time. It was in part due to the fact that having Ginny curled up beside him had allowed him to have his first decent night's sleep in days, but it was also knowing that she had made the decision to trust him. He had every intention of making sure he was worthy of that trust, so the morning after their late night discussion, they had risen together and headed here to begin working on her magic like he had promised.
Despite feeling better than he had in days, some doubt still lingered. He knew at least part of his determination stemmed from the fact that she needed him, and he wasn't about to let her down.
His doubt rapidly dissolved as they worked at Longbottom Manor, until now, four days after her nightmare, they had all but completely vanished. The less than ideal circumstances should have meant that they were in for a rough and emotionally exhausting time, but being alone with Ginny had been brilliant.
Every day since her nightmare, he accompanied her to her practicing to "help" her. It turned out that she hadn't really needed him or his help, so much as she needed time. He hadn't really done anything but provide moral support. Though, maybe that was helping in and of itself, as she did seem much happier now that they were working together than the days they had spent apart.
Harry could say the same for himself. Watching her determination as she battled her "wonky magic" (as she was prone to calling it) was nothing short of inspiring. And captivating. Just before casting, her eyes would light up blazingly, and she would give a little shake of her head as she steeled herself that made her hair shimmer like actual fire. Sometimes he thought he felt the magic building - given the bond and the fact that he still wore Orion's ring, maybe he actually was feeling it - but he thought it was more likely that he imagined it because he was watching her so intently.
Things had definitely gotten better, Harry decided as he watched Ginny banish a training dummy without causing it to explode. She flashed him a radiant, triumphant smile when she used her wand to successful levitate it back into place. Much better.
"So I've been thinking," she broke into his thoughts as she turned around, "and I honestly haven't the faintest clue how they did it. Sirius really didn't explain at all?"
Huh? Harry quickly thought back, trying to remember what they had just been talking about. Oh! They'd taken to both sleeping in Sirius's room again, reading the stories Sirius had left behind that he had been too afraid to look at without her. Though Ginny tended to fall asleep midway through stories, exhausted as she was from practicing so much magic, her presence and the stories he'd read had lessened his apprehension. They were just discussing the story they read last night…
"Honestly, Gin, I have no idea. Dumbledore is a legilimens! Unless he let them get away with it, there is no way they were able to sneak into his quarters. Even if we allow that the cloak let them slip through the headmaster's office, he still should have known," he replied. The more he thought it over though, he figured Dumbledore probably had let them get away with it. Considering his choice in robes…
"Well, he does seem rather fond of purple, doesn't he?" Ginny said, echoing his thoughts. Her eyes, bright with amusement, held Harry captive. He was sure he was smiling goofily at her, but he was beyond caring when she laughed. "He was probably thrilled to have his beard and robes match for once!"
"You might be right," Harry said. Then he laughed. "Still though, how'd they convince fairies to nest in it?"
Ginny laughed, free and unabashed. She laughed so hard that she ended up leaning into his side as he laughed with her. His heart soared - at the merriment, the sound of her laughter, and the warmth of her where she leaned into him. Even when the sound faded, he could still feel her shaking with it beneath his hand resting on her back. It was one of those rare moments that was so pure no darkness could intrude upon it.
It was shattered by a voice behind them.
"Well, isn't this a sight for sore eyes," Neville said. Ginny straightened up, still smiling, and turned to greet him. Harry turned as well, but kept his hand on her back. Neville was smiling widely at them, but his eyes gravitated toward Ginny, Harry noted with annoyance. There was nothing but relief and friendliness in his tone when he continued, "You're looking much better than the last time I saw you."
Ginny's face turned slightly pink as she cast a glance at Harry, but her smile didn't fade. "I'm feeling better, thank you." Harry's thumb brushed her back. "I hope you don't mind that I brought Harry with me. He's been helping me with some things," she added.
Neville shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. You're welcome any time, mate," he directed at Harry.
For his part, Harry nodded and forced a smile. "Nice to see you, Neville. Have a nice trip?" Even he could tell his words lacked the necessary enthusiasm.
Instead of looking insulted or off-put, Neville's expression shifted to something tinged with amusement. "Yeah, we did. Thanks," he said jovially.
Uncomfortable, Harry stepped closer to Ginny, and the amused glint in Neville's eye grew. Ginny missed it, having been looking at Harry with veiled curiosity, though she thankfully didn't comment.
The clock chiming out six times offered Harry an escape from the moment. Looking at Ginny, he said, "We've got to get back, Gin. We promised your mum we'd be back by now. She's already probably worried."
Ginny bit her lip and hesitated. She glanced between him and Neville. Finally, she said, "Do you mind going on ahead and letting her know that Neville just returned and I'll be along in a few minutes?" Harry fought to keep the irritation off his face. She must have caught a glimpse of it, because she leaned in and added quietly, "I just want to thank Mrs. Longbottom. It'd probably be better if you were there to thank her too, but I don't want Mum to worry."
Harry wanted to stay. Not to thank Mrs. Longbottom, but to stay closer to Ginny. Still, the worry in her tone was evident when she talked about her mother, so he reluctantly agreed. Harry and Ginny followed Neville out of the dueling room and into the main hall, where Harry would go left to use the floo in the foyer and Neville would take Ginny to the right in search of his Gran. Harry's hand had fallen away from Ginny's back as they walked, but she reached out and squeezed it once before they split.
"Thank you," she said sincerely.
He felt better at the smile she gave him. "You're welcome," he told her warmly. He turned to Neville and gave him a perfunctory nod. "Thanks again," he said.
Neville was still giving him that stupid grin when he replied, "Anytime."
Harry then left, feeling very irritated with the other boy. It wasn't that he wasn't grateful for the welcome or that he doubted Neville's sincerity. He just didn't like the… whatever it was that the other boy shared with Ginny. Not that it's more than friendship, he assured himself. There was a familiarity there that bothered him, especially since he hadn't known it existed until very recently. Maybe it was because he hadn't known.
Mrs. Weasley was waiting nervously when he stepped out of the floo. His regret at having been forced to leave washed away at the sight of her. Her face paled and she looked to be about to launch into a string of worried questioning, so he quickly explained.
"Ginny is fine, Mrs. Weasley," he said soothingly. She relaxed and he continued, "Neville and his Gran got back just as we were leaving, and she wanted to say thank you. She'll be along shortly."
"That's good. I'm glad she's remembering her manners," Mrs. Weasley said, though it lacked any real conviction.
Harry took a moment to look at her, really look at her. The bags under her eyes were more prevalent than ever, her hair wild and clothes rumpled. Everything about her radiated worry. He suddenly felt a bit bad for not thinking of her feelings more.
She had been far more lenient than her usual self since the betrothal had come out. Harry wasn't sure who exactly was aware of how he and Ginny had been spending their nights (Ron, Hermione and Mr. Weasley certainly knew, though they all seemed to be covering it up), but even if she didn't know quite that much, she still had allowed them to leave Grimmauld Place unattended for extended periods of time, something he never would have expected to happen. It's the guilt, he realized.
"Mrs. Weasley?" He asked tentatively. It wasn't really in his nature to insert himself into complicated family situations - what did he know of the dynamics between parents and their children? - but he was worried about her. Mrs. Weasley was the closest thing to a mother he could remember having, after all. He had no concept of how to address her feelings though, so he simply asked, "Is there anything I can do to help?"
She shook herself from her daze at his words and gave him a small, kind smile. "No, thank you, dear. It's very sweet of you to offer though," she said as she reached out and rubbed his shoulder fondly. To his credit, Harry didn't flinch, even though the gesture felt foreign. "I've plenty of time tonight, in fact. Dinner isn't for another hour, as Bill will be joining us tonight. He owled earlier today."
Harry perked up at that news. Two days ago he had managed to convince Ginny to reach out to her brother. She'd been making good progress, but he'd seen how skilled she had been before, and she still hadn't managed to regain her previous level of ability. Hopefully Bill would be able to provide a solution. Ginny had only agreed on the condition that they discuss Harry's situation and need to train as well.
Mrs. Weasley didn't allow him to stay and help - or wait for Ginny. She sent him upstairs to wash up instead. He had overslept a bit this morning and needed to bathe anyway, so he went ahead and took a shower, not knowing how long the conversation with Bill would take later. When he was done, he went looking for Ginny.
Surprisingly, he found her in the room she shared with Hermione instead of Sirius's. She was still wearing the clothes she had trained in that day and was lying atop her bed, asleep. He gently shook her awake, not wanting to disturb her, but also afraid to let her fall into nightmares as she usually did when she slept alone here. He also knew she needed to keep her strength up if she was going to keep practicing magic at the rate she had been and that meant she needed to eat dinner.
She didn't fully look to be awake, even by the time they entered the kitchen and met with her parents, Bill, Ron, and Hermione. She greeted her eldest brother warmly, but without her usual exuberance. She ate, but it was rather distractedly, and spent more time casting glances at him than engaging in the conversations at the dinner table. At one point, he whispered quietly, "It'll be fine. Relax." She had given him a weak smile in response. There was something off, Harry knew, but he chalked it up to nerves at the coming conversation.
He tried to provide a distraction by including her in conversation with Ron and Hermione, since Bill was occupied in conversation with her parents. Honestly, he missed talking about nothing of importance with his two best friends, though probably not as much as he should have, considering he hadn't seen much of his friends over the last week. Aside from an hour here or there during which the four of them discussed the lack of progress on the research Ron and Hermione had been doing on the bonding, he had only spent a short amount of time talking to Ron alone most nights before going upstairs to meet Ginny. He assumed Ginny and Hermione had a similar ritual.
When dinner ended, Ron took both his and Hermione's plates to the sink while Hermione thanked Mrs. Weasley for the meal. They left the room together with a quick goodbye to everyone else. They didn't wait for him or ask if he or Ginny would be joining them. Perhaps they aren't missing me that much either, Harry thought with a smile. He had a feeling that their relationship was finally heading toward a romantic nature. If that transition was smoothed by his absence for the moment, he was okay with that. He had more pressing concerns of his own anyway.
Bill and Ginny had helped clear the table during his distraction. Bill used a cleaning charm on the table, while the Wealsey parents stood at the sink doing the dishes side by side. Mr. Weasley was humming a song he didn't know, but was sure was off beat, while Mrs. Weasley swayed and laughed at his mistakes. Harry suspected that he was witnessing something of a ritual between the Weasley parents, as he knew Mrs. Weasley was capable of washing the dishes by magic when she was alone or when there was an excessive amount to be cleaned.
When the table was clean, Bill said, "I'm going to borrow Harry and Ginny for a bit, if that's alright. Just a few things they should know about their new accounts," he lied smoothly.
Mrs. Weasley, still in a better mood than she had been for days, replied without turning around. "Of course, dear. Thank you for your help. Please come for dinner more often."
Mr. Weasley gave Bill a quick glance over his shoulder that clearly communicated he had heard the lie in his son's words, but didn't press. The exchange made Harry realize that out of all the Weasleys, it seemed Ginny and Bill had a particularly close relationship with their father. There seemed to be a level of respect between the three of them that wasn't present in their relationships with the other members of the family.
They were once more situated in the study, as they had been just over a week ago, and finally about to finish their conversation. When Ginny didn't immediately begin, Bill started.
"I wasn't lying actually, I did have some Gringotts business to talk about," he said before turning to Harry. "You handled the Black accounts, but you're of majority now, which means you need to handle the Potter family assets as well. It wouldn't be wise to leave them for too long. The goblins would consider it disrespectful, taking it as a sign that you were uninterested in your fortune and the work they do."
"Right," Harry said. He had really forgotten all about what his gaining majority meant in terms of his own finances, but he would see to it soon. "I will do that, but we have some more pressing matters at present," he began, looking at Ginny. She still wore that distracted look, though, so Harry decided to start with the part that concerned him first and allow her to share her own problems when she was ready.
"I'm here to help," Bill said encouragingly. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get back here. Things have been a bit busy lately."
Harry dismissed the apology. "So, remember last year how the Order was guarding the Hall of Prophecy?" he asked, unsure how exactly to begin.
"Yeah," Bill said slowly. "Given what happened at the end of term, clearly we were guarding a prophecy about you and him. We were told it was destroyed, but I'm guessing you're about to tell me what it said," he said perceptively.
Harry nodded and gulped. It should have been easier to tell the story a second time, but telling Ginny had been different somehow. She was comforting in a way others weren't. As if sensing his thoughts, he felt her hand slip into his. The contact bolstered his confidence, and he continued to explain to Bill what the headmaster had explained to him.
When his words dried up, Ginny added, "We think it would be wise for him to begin some advanced training. Whether love will be what lets him win in the end, he needs as many resources as possible to survive."
"We," Harry cut in, looking at her intensely. "We need training. You're too close to me and too high on his list to be left vulnerable. Since neither of us have the trace, there's no reason not to."
"Fine. Yes, we need training," she conceded. Turning back to her brother, she said, "I was hoping you would be able to help with wards, curse breaking, and anything else you can think of. Maybe Tonks or Moody would be willing to help with dueling and other Auror skills. Andromeda Tonks helps the Order with potions and healing when Snape and Madam Pomfrey are unavailable, right?" Bill nodded in confirmation and she continued, "so maybe she would be willing to help. If not, we'll need someone for at least basic healing skills and I'd really prefer to find someone trustworthy that could teach us Occlumency, even if it's just the basics."
Bill's look was calculating as he thought it through. "We can do that, at least I can. I'll talk it over with the others too. Fleur is rather adept at Occlumency and has been making some progress on Legilimency." Before either Harry or Ginny could comment, he asked, "Is that what Longbottom Manor has been about? Practicing?"
"You could say that," Ginny said reluctantly. Harry had to squeeze her hand before she took a deep breath and continued. "Not dueling though, or anything advanced at all. I've been having trouble with my magic since Gringotts."
Bill asked for more information and she elaborated. Explaining in detail all the trouble she had experienced and the improvements she made over the last few days. "...It's gotten better, but I'm still not where I should be."
Bill took it all in quietly. He looked thoughtful and gave it a moment before responding. "Have you considered getting a new wand?"
Ginny groaned. "Another new wand? Seriously?"
"What do you mean another wand? How many have you had?" Harry asked, sidetracked from the original discussion. He hadn't heard of anything happening to hers.
"Well, this would only be my second new wand," she admitted. "My first was passed down through the family. We didn't have extra money that year for a new one, since we had to buy all those Lockhart books. But then Ron and I both got new ones after my first year when Dad won that prize money," she explained. "Still, though, I can't think of anyone else who has been through three wands in less than five years."
"You need to remember that no one else you know has had three different sources of magic in a five year period either," Bill said seriously. "The wand chooses the user, Ginny, and it does that based on the person and the way they interact with their magic. I know it's hard, but you have to acknowledge that yours isn't the same as it was when you got that wand."
Ginny's face fell. She looked over her brother's shoulder as she responded quietly, "I know." She straightened when she looked at her brother, replacing the downcast expression with one of determination. "We'll go to Olivander's tomorrow then," she said. She looked at Harry, "And then Gringotts to take care of your accounts?"
"Absolutely," Harry agreed quickly. The problems with her magic had been weighing on her heavily, and he hated seeing the melancholia in her whenever it hit. It couldn't fix everything that had her down, but having her full magical strength back would certainly go a long way in making her feel more in control of the situation, something he had come to learn had a profound impact on her.
A loud crack and the appearance of Kreacher interrupted them. The elf bowed lowly, but quickly, before straightening and explaining his presence.
"Kreacher is sorry to interrupt, but Mistress is needed down in the kitchen," Kreacher said. "The nasty professor that Kreacher has heard Miss Cissy speak of is there."
"Snape is here?" Harry burst out in distaste.
Kreacher looked at him, the familiar look of dislike present, but nodded and addressed him respectfully. "Yes, Master. He wants into the supply closet, but Kreacher is keeping him blocked, like Mistress asked him. Mistress's mother has asked Kreacher to fetch her."
"Thank you, Kreacher. I'll go take care of it," Ginny said, giving him an affection pat and she passed by on her way out the door. She didn't give Harry or Bill a chance to say or do anything before she was on her way down the stairs.
She stopped in the doorway, leaving Harry and Bill at the bottom of the steps, out of sight from anyone in the kitchen. Harry supposed it was a good thing she had stopped him from giving everything away. Snape was certain to use legilimency on him if he found him here when he was supposed to be at Privet Drive. Her posture was stiff and eyes hard as they trained on - he assumed - Snape. This was confirmed when he heard Snape's oily voice say.
"There you are," he sneered. "Apparently, I have you to blame for blocking Order access to necessary potion ingredients. Tell the elf to let me through."
Ginny's face was a perfect mask of innocence, even from Harry's view of just her profile. She raised a brow, "Oh? Who said it was up to me?"
"Do not play games with me, you little brat. I do not have time for this. And the minds of the Weasleys are not as well guarded as your own, Miss Black." Harry flinched as Snape dug at the fresh wound that was Ginny becoming a Black, knowing how much it still hurt her despite the brave face she adopted. "Now let me through. The headmaster is depending on what I need to gather here."
Ginny didn't react outwardly, but called, "Kreacher." The elf cracked into existence before her. "Would you please gather whatever ingredients Professor Snape needs?"
"Yes, Mistress Ginevra, if that is what Mistress wants," the elf said with a low bow. He turned to Snape looking as oppositional as possible, but asked, "What is it that the greasy potions man needs?"
He heard Snape's hiss of a breath and could envision the angry look on the man's face, having seen it directed at himself enough over the years. It sounded as though he was speaking through gritted teeth, "Venom of the magical variety of Bothrops Asper."
There was a double crack that Harry assumed was Kreacher fetching the venom - why Snape needed a snake venom he had never heard of, particularly for the headmaster, was beyond him - and Kreacher saying, "There. You go now. Mistress does not want you here."
"Nor do I wish to be here, you foul-"
Ginny cut him off. "I'll thank you not to try to take things from my house without asking again, Professor. Or insult my elf."
"Noted," Snape replied coolly. Harry heard the fire flare in preparation for floo travel, and assumed from the muffled quality of Snape's voice that he had turned to go when he continued, "and I will be sure to inform the headmaster of Potter's insolence, as well as that of your conspirators."
Harry heard the swish of the flames, followed by absolute silence. Ginny let out a breath and her shoulders sagged. He moved forward, instinctively placing his hand on her back. Ginny jumped slightly at the contact, her eyes shooting to his in surprise. He knew she was upset though, and began rubbing small circles in the tight muscles there, and she relaxed, closing her eyes and leaning into the movement.
Bill cleared his throat behind them, bringing them both to attention. He simply gestured to the kitchen, "Shall we?"
Ginny's brother had made no comment on what had transpired between he and Ginny, nor did his expression hold any judgement when he spoke. As soon as Ginny had crossed the threshold into the kitchen, however, he shot Harry a look that indicated he had questions for him. Harry did his best to ignore it for the time being.
It doesn't matter what he thinks, Harry reassured himself. Ginny had quickly become the most important person in his life. She made him happy - made him feel like an actual living person instead of just a pawn being moved in a game he didn't understand - and knew that he brought her comfort, at the very least, if not genuine happiness. He would wouldn't be swayed into giving that up, even by Bill.
The kitchen remained silent even after they entered. Ron broke it with a sarcastic, "That went well."
Hermione elbowed him and he grunted. Mrs. Weasley ignored the entire exchange. Worriedly she asked, "What in Merlin's name could he be brewing for the headmaster that requires that venom? I've never even heard of it!" She was looking directly at her husband.
Mr. Weasley shook his head looking as confused as the rest of them. "I've never heard of it either."
"I have," Bill said quietly. There was a nervous quality in his voice that Harry didn't like. "It's rare. The snake is generally only found in South America, and the magical variety only in one small village. There is only one potion I can think of that he would need it for - an antidote to a particularly dark curse used in ancient times. If the headmaster is in need of it… it can't be good," he explained with a grimace.
"But - Professor Snape didn't seem that upset… surely everything must be alright?" Hermione said, lacking her usual confidence. Her face was worried as she looked at Bill. "Right?"
Bill replied doubtfully. "It's possible he's just preparing for a dangerous mission. But… all of the curses that require that antidote cannot fully be contained. Whoever they befall upon may be able to stop the spreading, but it can't undo the damage at the initial site where the curse made contact."
Everyone let that sink in for a moment, before Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Regardless, there is nothing any of us can do about that. However, it seems the situation with Harry and Ginny is now, or will shortly be, in the open, at least where the headmaster is concerned. Someone should let Tonks know - she's on duty watching over Harry's relatives."
Harry felt a bit guilty that the Order was still wasting resources keeping an eye on Privet Drive, but as awful as the Dursleys had been, he still didn't want them at risk because the blood protection was now destroyed.
"I'll do it," Bill offered. He shot a look at Harry and Ginny as he said, "I have some things to talk to her about anyway."
"Thank you, Bill," Mr. Weasley said. "It's getting late and I have work in the morning. I appreciate not having to go out at this hour."
"Right!" Mrs. Weasley jumped in, looking at the clock. "We should all be getting to bed," she said with purpose, gesturing to all the children. "Let's head upstairs now."
Everyone began filing out, but Harry lagged behind. It occurred to him that maybe Bill could add some wards so that the Order didn't have to bother with his relatives anymore. When Ginny waited for him, he told her quietly, "I'll be up soon. I just wanted a word with Bill." She looked between them curiously, but acquiesced with a nod.
"What can I do for you, Harry?" Bill asked.
Harry ignored the assessing look on his face as he asked about the wards. He had a feeling that out of everyone, Bill was the most aware about his feelings for Ginny. This was confirmed by the way he didn't leave, even after agreeing to placing the strongest wards he could without tipping off the death eaters. Resigned, Harry waited for the "big brother speech".
Bill never gave it. Instead he asked calmly, "Is it real? Or is she just another duty for you?"
Harry maintained eye contact and said unequivocally, "It's real." He was certain of that now.
"Good," Bill said simply, taking his leave without another word.
Harry looked at the flames Bill had disappeared through in surprise. He had honestly expected more than that. Not that he was complaining, but as her brother, shouldn't Bill have threatened him? Ron had complained about Corner forever when he found out about him.
Then again, Bill seemed to have a deep respect for Ginny. He wouldn't try to control her life the way the other members of her family did. Harry assumed that's why Ginny was actually honest with Bill. Instead of settling for wondering about her, Harry set out to find her so he could spend his time in her company.
He found her exactly where he had expected to - sitting on Sirius's bed. His journal was open on her lap again, and she was tracing the page again, that quiet longing and tenderness clear in her movements. He paused to watch her, wondering what had touched her in his writing.
She spoke without looking up. "He actually wrote a song based on something I said to him." She looked up at him, a sheen in her eyes and an expression that was bittersweet. "He used to do that, back when they were all kids. Your father played quidditch, but Sirius played music to 'bewitch the witches'," she shook her head and laughed lightly. A fond smile spread across her face as she said, "He said it didn't hurt that playing guitar was such a Muggle thing that he couldn't help but want to do it, knowing it would piss his parents off even more." She shook her head fondly. A bit of awe radiated out of her as she continued, "but he hadn't written anything since before Azkaban, at least to my knowledge."
Harry took a seat beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. There was the slightest hesitation before she leaned into the half-embrace. It was the second time tonight his touch had startled her in some way, something he had never noticed in their interactions before, and it gave him pause. She had seemed distant as well. He wasn't sure if it was simply what Snape had said, but something was clearly weighing on her.
"How do you do it?" He asked. He knew enough to know that if she wanted to share with him what was on her mind, then she would, but he still couldn't help wanting to better understand her. He pulled back slightly to look at her expression. "How are you so composed all day around everyone else when you feel this way too?"
Her nose wrinkled and her brows drew together as she considered the question. The expression didn't fade as she explained, "I guess I just compartmentalize, push it to the back of my mind by focusing intently on something else. Right now I have a long list of things to keep my mind busy. Today, it was mostly the training we're about to start- what would be most valuable for you to know and who best to provide the instruction. You know, that sort of thing." She shrugged.
"Speaking of…" he began, "Bill mentioned Fleur and Occlumency. Can you handle that? I know you don't like her, and I hated having someone I disliked in my head."
Ginny's snort prevented him from falling into the dismal thoughts that usually plagued him when he thought of Snape and Occlumency. "Really, Harry?" She asked amusedly. "As much as I dislike Phlegm, I don't think it's fair to compare her to Snape." She sobered and continued, "I guess it's not ideal, but it could be worse. I've got a rudimentary idea of the basics anyway and it's not as important for me to learn, so the focus will mostly be on you. Is that alright with you?"
Harry discarded most of what she said, having been stuck on the idea that she had any understanding of Occlumency at all. "Wait- what do you mean you have an idea of what to do? You've practiced Occlumency?" Then he remembered what Snape had said earlier in the kitchen. "Is that what Snape meant when he said your mind was protected?" He questioned intensely.
"Not exactly…" She said slowly, sounding apprehensive.
He recognized she was having trouble reading what his intensity meant, so he smiled and said teasingly, "Well you must know more than me. I'm pants at it. Couldn't ever seem to clear my mind properly."
She didn't laugh, but asked with interest, "Snape told you to clear your mind?"
"Yeah, but that's it," he said as casually as possible; there was no point in letting old frustration ruin his mood - or his alone time with her.
"Hm…there's more to it, but I understand what he was getting at," she replied, looking thoughtful. She met his eyes seriously as she continued, "You need to clear your mind of any clutter really - any stray thoughts can be latched onto and followed to deeper, more significant memories."
"Latched onto?" He asked, trying to fully understand the concept. Snape had never bothered to explain before, so he had never known what kinds of questions to ask.
"Well, the way we organize things in our minds, it's a series of interconnected webs that link thoughts." She sounded so studious that Harry had to fight off a smile. He knew she was smart, but he was just so used to seeing her bantering with her brothers that he was still unaccustomed to it. "There are a number of pathways we can follow to retrieve information, depending on what connections we made when remembering it."
The urge to smile vanished as he realized he would need to pay attention if he hoped to understand it all. He absolutely didn't want to ask her to repeat herself because he was thinking about how cute she sounded when explaining something complicated or how arousing she would look dressed like a muggle librarian...He shook himself and focused.
She continued without commenting on any change in his expression, "Imagine, for instance, that you ran into me in the hallway on your way to an Occlumency lesson with Snape, so I'm fresh in your mind." He nodded. "If you don't clear your mind and Snape latches onto that thought, he can find everything I'm connected with." Harry had to fight a grimace at the thought of how Snape would torture him if he had seen what he was thinking about Ginny just moments ago. "It will lead to memories of the Chamber and Tom Riddle, which will lead directly to memories of Voldemort, and then what we're doing to stop him, such as things related to the Order of the Phoenix, and so on and so forth."
"I don't think of the Chamber when I think of you, Gin," he said quickly. While he didn't want to tell her what he did think, he most definitely did not want her believing that the Chamber was how she was framed within his mind.
She rolled her eyes. "Fine. It may lead to thoughts of Ron and then of the Burrow, and further on to Peter Pettigrew and then Voldemort, etcetera." She waved her hand. "Of course, I'm using worst-case scenarios, because if you're under a Legillimency attack, it's not likely that they'll be searching for pleasant memories. They'll be looking for your secrets." She suddenly grinned wickedly, signaling to Harry that she was about to take the mickey. "And not the kind of secrets relating to the type of underwear you wear."
"Right," Harry said, fighting a blush at the thought of Ginny trying to get a peek at his underwear. He could think of much more pleasurable ways… that pleasant thought was interrupted by a realization. He pulled his arm back from around her and rubbed his face as he asked, "You didn't- uh- you used to help your mum with the wash, right? Um-"
"Don't worry," she said placatingly with a pat on his arm, "Mum always handled the boys' unmentionables." Harry sighed in relief, but found himself blushing furiously as she continued a moment later, "I refused to touch them before they were clean. I just folded them."
He groaned, remembering the underwear he had back then, before Sirius had seen the full contents of his wardrobe when unpacking his trunk and insisted on not only owl ordering him a full set of clothing, but also sending Remus out into Muggle London to buy him casual clothing as well. The memory made him a bit sad, as he had never wanted to wear the newer, nicer clothing back then, for fear of ruining the first decent set of clothing he'd had in memory with all the cleaning they were doing about the house, and then had outgrown most all of it over the school year. I wonder if he had any idea how much that meant to me. Before he could sink too far into regret, Ginny's amused laughter spread over him like sunlight, and he found himself chuckling with her instead.
He nudged her shoulder. "Alright," he said, getting back on topic. "I can understand that, but keeping a clear mind can't be all of it. No one can go around not thinking all the time, and I sincerely doubt Voldemort is going to give me a warning."
Her laughter died down as she focused. "Well, no, of course not. In conjunction with clearing it, you'll want everything 'put away' and organized, so to speak. That way you can lock away sections of thoughts and help block off the access routes. You know?"
"That makes sense. Easier to protect the important stuff then," he said. She nodded and smiled. "Is that all?" he asked. It didn't seem like it would have been that difficult for Snape to simply explain that to him.
"Oh, Merlin, no," she said quickly, shaking her head. "You're supposed to build a wall or a shield or something around your mind, but I've never done it. I don't actually practice proper Occlumency." She hesitated for a moment before saying, "Bill says I just repress things well enough that it's hard to pick out the truth from the lies in my mind… everything has a hazy, dreamlike quality unless I'm actively focusing on it." She shrugged. "It's all tied in to my ability to compartmentalize and avoid feelings I don't want to confront."
Something in her shifted, it was slight, but Harry recognized there was something she was avoiding right now that was causing her to retreat. Hoping to pull her away from that thought, he asked, "So what did you say to Sirius that was so important he was motivated to write a song?"
She smiled slightly and shut the book that had been open in her lap. "It wasn't so much the words I said, as it was the reason for it. Though he did damn near quote me," she said with a laugh.
Harry gave her an unimpressed look. "That's all you have to say? You're really not going to tell me?" He asked, reaching for the book.
The fact that she was a talented Seeker as well was demonstrated by how quickly she pulled the book, stretching her as far as she could out of his reach. "Most people would let me slide with that, yes," she said laughingly.
Despite how extended her arm was, his was still longer and he wrapped his hand around it easily. He smiled at her but said, "I'm very familiar with your family, Gin, and no - none of them would let you slide on that weak attempt at redirection." He tried to pull the book from her hand, but she had a surprisingly strong grip. Yeah, it's her grip that's the problem, not that you like how you're pressed against each other, he thought to himself. They were so close he could count all the freckles that dusted her nose or the flecks of gold in her brown eyes, were he so inclined. He continued to press her, "Don't make me resort to drastic measures."
She was unimpressed and maintained her hold. "As you just pointed out, you're familiar with my family. I doubt you can be more persuasive than Fred and George."
"Are you sure about that?" He asked. His plan was questionable really - his erection was currently hidden by his robes, but if she moved in a certain way, she'd be pressed up against it and there would be no hiding it. Still, he hoped she'd challenge him. She didn't disappoint.
"Do your worst, Potter."
He knew his smile must have been slightly feral as he responded, "Gladly."
His free hand around her back and to her side, pinning her against him, before he began tickling her. She squealed and moved away from the source, making her move closer to him and allowing ever better access. It was almost too quickly before she let go of the journal and was pushing against him while laughing.
"You win! You win!" She said breathlessly. She tried to look reprimanding, but was still smiling as she said, "I never took you for a dirty fighter, Harry."
He grinned in response. "I did warn you."
She nodded, conceding the point. "That you did." Her returning grin was full of mischief, "but now that I know, I won't go easy on you next time."
"Good to know," he replied casually. His heart was pounding with exhilaration though, and he looked forward to whatever methods she had in mind.
Turning back to the journal, he opened it and began searching. Honestly, he didn't really know where to look, but he assumed he'd recognize lyrics if he saw them. Wow, he wrote a lot, Harry thought as he turned page after page to no avail. He heard Ginny laugh softly beside him and looked up at her ruefully.
"Okay, so maybe this wasn't my best plan. Care to help?" He asked hopefully. "Please?"
She shook her head fondly, the scent of her hair hitting him in a concentrated wave, momentarily distracting him. There was a smile in her tone as she said, "Well, since you asked so nicely."
She gently took the journal from him and turned to the correct page before handing it back to him. It was dated only two days after they had returned to school. The entry before it mentioned the letter she had sent him the day before and what it had said. He didn't even look at the lyrics before the wave of emotion hit and he looked up at her, too touched to say anything.
The look in her eyes was understanding. She took his hand and said, "He was letting the guilt of his past control him. I couldn't stand seeing the way it was holding back his relationship with you. Both of you, but particularly you, Harry, deserved more than that."
Setting the book aside, he wrapped both his arms around her neck and pulled her into an embrace filled with as much emotion as he was capable of. She had fought for Sirius, for Harry's relationship with him, and for Harry himself, and that meant more to him than he could put into words. His face was buried in her hair when he finally formed the words, "Thank you."
Her arms tightened around him and her breath was warm on his neck as she responded, "You're welcome, Harry. I just wish I had done it sooner."