A/N: I've been a bit remiss when it comes to these. I forget I'm supposed to do it before uploading. I wanted to take the opportunity to thank all of you for reading and following along with me. I really appreciate it and am glad you're enjoying it too!
As always, endless thanks to The Ginny Lover's discord server for their continuous support of all creative endeavors, and a special thank you to iKingBearII and several others (whose names I did not ask permission to use yet) who have been reading the in-progress stuff and assuring me it's not shit. See you next Friday with a chapter I think you'll all be relieved to see.
"I don't like it," Ginny said again, continuing to pace furiously around their room. "He's still hiding something - I know he is."
She had been in this agitated state since they arrived home after meeting with Dumbledore. Harry sat on the bed, watching her, and patiently voicing his agreement at regular intervals.
"He absolutely didn't want to tell us something," she said firmly, looking at Harry.
He finally stood and approached her. She ignored him and kept at her pacing until he took her shoulders and made her look at him. "Are you alright?" he asked directly. "He seemed like he was honestly tired. Is this really about him. Not your wand? Or what we saw?"
She pulled back. "Of course it's about him," she said shortly. She didn't care about the wand. Truly, it wasn't that surprising. She was more concerned about the ring, and - despite knowing the ring should have been her biggest concern - even more concerned yet about Dumbledore's treatment of Harry. "He was tired - I'll admit that - but I don't buy for a second that the charm happened to fail when we were beginning to discuss you. He knows something he didn't want to share," she insisted.
"Gin," he said, grabbing her again and turning her body to face him, "it's fine. I'm sure he'll get to it. He probably didn't mean - "
"Yes, he did," she said forcefully. "It's absolute bullshit the games he plays, but he wants something from you. They all do. Dumbledore, Minister Scrimgeour, this Slughorn... they all want to use you for something or other, and I don't like it. You're not some tool or prize. You're just you, just Harry," she said passionately.
She was gripped in a breathtaking embrace before she could recognize what was happening. One minute she was ranting, and the next all she knew was Harry. Her brain didn't even consider it before she wrapped herself around him just as fiercely.
His face had been buried in her hair, so she felt it when he pulled back and angled herself to look up at him. The intensity she had seen in his eyes earlier was there again and she felt alive with it. A humming sensation everywhere his body was in contact with hers made her heart beat wildly in her chest. Even the atmosphere grew heavy, as if the very room they were in was waiting in anticipation. She had the insane thought that if she could force herself to look away from his eyes, she'd be able to see a physical manifestation of it in the air.
A tentative knock on the door sounded, breaking the tension. Harry stepped back, his fingers lingering in her hair and twisting at the end. She couldn't stop the way her eyes closed and her body leaned forward, prolonging in the contact. There was something wistful in the way he twirled the end fully around his finger before releasing it, and a small hum escaped her. He cleared his throat and she opened her eyes as another knock sounded, this time more firm, and Ron's voice carried through the door.
"What're you knocking for Hermione?"
"Knocking is considered polite, Ron," she rebuked.
Ron's reply was lost as Ginny laughed quietly, envisioning the look of disapproval on her friend's face. It quickly faded and morphed into a sigh as she realized what needed to happen now.
"I need to have a talk with Mum, but I think you should tell them about everything."
Harry looked apprehensive. "You mean everything that we found out today?"
She nodded. "Yes, but I also think it's time to tell them about the prophecy. Don't you?"
His gaze flee to the door nervously and he swallowed thickly before responding, "Yeah. I guess I should." He looked back to her, "You're not going to stay and tell them with me?"
As much as it pained her to deny his unspoken request, she shook her head. "No. I'd really like to talk to my mum alone. Besides, I feel like I've been monopolizing you lately," she said, thinking of the three friends huddled together talking that morning in Diagon Alley. "The three of you have always been a team. You should have this conversation in private."
He took her hand. "We're a team," he said, squeezing in emphasis.
She smiled warmly at him and squeezed back. "We are, but still. Give them some time to think about it with less of an audience," she said, pulling away. "Plus, I'd rather not be present when Ron finds out you told me first," she added playfully.
He sighed in exaggeration, "Fine, leave me all alone with the hard stuff."
She laughed and kissed his cheek before embracing him. "You'll be fine, you little cry-baby." Another knock sounded and Harry tensed. She pulled back enough to look at his face and said more seriously, "It will be alright, Harry. You'll see."
The air between them thickened as they looked at each other. The slight tingle she usually felt whenever they touched ignited into something much stronger, her entire body lighting with it. It was only the sound of her brother's angry voice questioning what they were doing that made her pull away and head toward the door.
She opened it and was almost hit by Ron's fist as he went to hammer at the door once more. She ducked just in time and gave him a shove in reproach. "Fine way to say 'thank you' for inviting you in, Ron. See if I open the door at all next time," she said sarcastically.
Ron narrowed his eyes at her. "Took you long enough. What were doing in here anyway?"
Ginny rolled her eyes and ignored the swooping sensation in her stomach at the thought of all the things they could have been doing. She focused on the conversation she was about to have as she said, "Talking. Just like you're about to be doing."
Ron pushed past her, walking into the room and taking a seat on the chest that now served as a chair for the desk. Hermione was still in the doorway, looking at her curiously.
Ginny tried to impress upon her how important this was with a significant gaze as she said, "I'll catch up with you later, okay? I'm sure we'll have a lot to talk about."
Hermione seemed to understand. She didn't ask any questions, but nodded seriously. "You should stay for a minute, Percy gave Ron something you need to know about," she said, before taking a seat beside Ron.
Ginny paused and turned to examine her brother. He was bouncing one leg and twisting a piece of parchment between his hands. Exasperated with all the dramatics, she walked over a stuck out her hand expectantly. He looked at Harry before handing it to her. Document in hand, Ginny turned and took her spot next to Harry on the bed. She opened it curiously and found that she had to squint to at the already fading text to read it. The page was actually lighter than it should have been too, she noticed, and recognized it as a sign that it was a hastily made copy.
She looked at Hermione and Ron as she handed it to Harry to allow him a closer look. "What am I looking at exactly?"
"Percy slipped that in my pocket when he hugged me," Ron replied. "It's hard to see now, but it's a requisition order from Scrimgeour for the Black family account."
Harry was still squinting at the fading lines when she asked, "Why would he be after that?"
Ron and Hermione shared a look. Her brother responded, "Tonks said Scrimgeour was Head of the Auror office before becoming Minister. She thinks he was just investigating all Fudge's activities and this was part of it."
"We know Fudge tried to help Mrs. Malfoy get control of the Black account," Hermione continued. "We think Fudge was trying to find out what happened to it when he was removed from office, and Scrimgeour was just following his paper trails. He probably filled out a lot of these forms and Percy only had time to copy the one that mattered to us."
"Does it really matter?" Harry asked, seemingly unconcerned.
Hermione looked taken aback. "Well… there's no way he won't find out about the betrothal once he sees the paperwork," she said worriedly. "He obviously wants something from Harry. He may try to use the information as leverage."
Ginny's feelings aligned with Harry's. "So?" she asked, equally untroubled. She continued, "Let him try. Percy managed to keep it quiet so far, but the records are already there in the ministry just waiting to be found. It was only a matter of time before someone found out."
"Exactly," Harry said. "I'd rather not all the details be shared, but Ginny's status as a Black is going to become obvious very quickly." Ginny glanced down and looked at the horrid ring on her finger before her eyes flicked to the signet ring on Harry's. Bill had disillusioned them for their trip to Diagon Alley, but the charm had long since faded. "I'm going to be taking on the Potter mantle soon and that will raise questions as well. The information isn't really all that valuable."
"Don't get us wrong," Ginny said, taking in the dumbstruck looks on the other couple's faces. "It's always good to be prepared and know what to expect from someone like him, but it's not terrible or anything."
"Okay," Ron said slowly, drawing out the word in his confusion. Hermione had the look of someone trying and failing to understand a math problem.
Silence descended and in the void of sound, Ginny became far too aware of her other senses. Harry's scent was in her nose, the heat coming off of his body warming her, and a thrum spreading through her where his leg rested against hers. It was entirely inappropriate that she should be so consumed by him at a moment that was completely innocent and lacking in privacy, yet the longer the silence stretched, the more the anticipatory tension rose.
It felt like far too much time had passed, even if it was only one minute, when she decided she needed to escape. "Right," she said abruptly as she stood and wiped imaginary dirt off her trousers. "I need to talk to Mum, and Harry has some things to talk to you about anyway, so I'm going to go." There was a definite awkwardness to the way she spoke that made her cringe internally, but she forced a smile. Harry gave her a look that clearly stated he wanted her to stay, but she waved goodbye before hastily leaving.
She let the smile fall as she made her way down the stairs. Everything in her life had taken a bizarre turn as of late. The most strange was how she and Harry had become virtually inseparable. There was a time when he hadn't even noticed when Ron would shoo her away from the group, but now he asked for her to stay and was disappointed when she didn't.
And her mother… well her mother had stopped acting like her mother. As much as she appreciated the latitude she'd been given recently, it was still unnerving. Also painful. Because the sudden distance made her feel like she was somehow less her parents' daughter than she had been before.
Rationally, she knew it wasn't how they saw it. She was very much aware that her mother was prone to depression and guilt that manifested as leniency when she felt she had done wrong by her children (all the nonsense she had let the twins get away with after she yelled at them before the Death Eater attack at the World Cup was evidence enough of that), but it still hurt. So much had changed, and she felt like she needed her mum back, no matter how childish it made her feel.
She paused outside the kitchen door before entering, just to steady herself. Taking a deep breath first and pasting another fake smile to her face, she entered the room.
Her mum was still preparing lunch at the counter, just like she expected. At the sound of the door opening, her mother turned and smiled slightly in greeting. She carried on preparing the meal without saying anything about Ginny's previous bad temper, completely ignoring the fact that Ginny had snapped at her and stomped up the stairs as soon as she and Harry had returned from Dumbledore's office. This is why you need to have this conversation, she told herself firmly, pushing back the awkwardness.
She took a minute to bolster her courage while her mum bustled about the room looking for supplies. Just as she was about to speak, her mother opened a drawer that sent knives flying upward and into the ceiling with a frightening amount of force. Her mother let out an oath and jumped back in surprise, lucky to have been out of range of the missiles.
"... hell, this blasted cursed kitchen will be the death of me!" She ranted as she slammed the drawer shut again. This was following an impressive string of curses that Ginny was surprised to learn her mother knew at all. Beneath the surprise, however, was a great deal of concern. The harried air surrounding her mother as she continued her search in agitation had Ginny worried for her.
"Is there anything I can do?" Ginny asked tentatively, wanting to help but unsure how. "I have all this money now," she said, feeling awkward about doing so, but making the offer none-the-less. "I can replace anything here if it's a problem."
"I know, dear," her mother responded with a sad smile. "I appreciate it, but I just miss my own kitchen. You shouldn't worry about that though. It's not your fault."
"Pretty sure it is," Ginny mumbled
Her mum sighed. "It's not, Ginny. Your father and I made this decision. We need to accept the consequences." The statement was said heavily, carrying the weight of more than just the change in their living arrangements. She carried on, "Of course, we didn't think it would become public knowledge so soon when we agreed. Ron showed you what Percy found, I suppose?"
Ginny nodded. "Yeah. I guess Scrimgeour will know shortly, but he may not do anything with the information. It may not become public yet."
"These things never stay secret for long. If one person at the Ministry knows, it's only a matter of time before the Death Eaters and You-Know-Who find out." Her mum sighed. "It's fine staying here, really. I just worry about the Burrow."
"I spoke to Dumbledore about it today, actually," Ginny said. "That's where Harry and I came from," she added, realizing she hadn't explained herself at all when they returned.
Her mother nodded. "Bill floo called. He told me."
"I asked about a Fidelius, so we could go back, but he said it wouldn't work." Thoughts of her family home created a longing in her chest that had her playing with her hair nervously. She missed it, but knew it would never be the same for her anymore. It felt like something from the past - the way remembering your favorite stuffed animal from childhood was comforting, but the toy itself no longer was. Her mother had built her adult life in that home though, and Ginny didn't want to let anything happen to it. "Is there anything I can do? Can I pay someone to take care of the orchard or any spells to maintain the house?"
Teary-eyed, her mother responded, "No. Thank you, dear. You don't need to worry yourself over anything. You have quite enough to worry about already," she said sadly.
She quickly returned to her preparations, not offering anything else in the way of conversation. Her mother's shoulders were sagging dejectedly and her movements distracted, giving away the upset she felt at the topic. Ginny knew it was time to bring the issue out into the open.
"I know you feel guilty, but you don't have to act like… I'm still your daughter," she said quietly, unable to keep the vulnerability at bay.
"Of course you are darling," her mother said, quickly pulling her into a suffocating embrace. There was a sheen in her eyes when she pulled back and said, "But you're not a little girl anymore. You haven't been in a long time, and it's hard to navigate that line. I want to keep you bundled up safely, but there is nowhere that I can put you that will do that. The best thing now is to let you and Harry learn to protect yourselves." She sighed. "You're right, though. I have been feeling guilty and… it's hard adjusting to the idea that my daughter doesn't need me anymore so much as she needs a boy, especially when it's partially due to my own actions."
Hearing her suspicions confirmed was unpleasant, even if it was comforting to know that her mum wasn't abandoning her. "You're my mum," she said softly. "I'll always need you."
"I know that, love," her mother replied with a soft smile. A gleam that had Ginny equal parts happy and anxious entered her mum's eye. Her voice was a little too casual as she said, "There is something I've been wanting to talk to you about..."
"Okay," Ginny responded slowly, her nervousness picking up at the tone. She knew that look meant her mother was going to enjoy whatever was coming slightly, but that her amusement would be at Ginny's expense.
"I know you've been sleeping with Harry," she said frankly. Ginny sputtered, trying to come up with an appropriate denial. Her mother barely batted an eyelash at her before carrying on, "I also know there is nothing untoward going on." Her laughter was light as she looked at Ginny's shocked expression. "Your father and I know unrequited love when we see it, and it's clear as day that boy is trying his best to hide it."
Ginny sat silently and stared at her mother. Everyone has gone insane, she thought, but part of her was thinking about the way Harry always touched her and the looks he'd been giving her. The way he...
She snapped out of her daze just in time to see her mother's contemplative look as she said, "You don't use silencing charms when you're with him."
"You knew about that?" Ginny asked, embarrassed.
"I'm your mother, dear. Of course your father and I knew about them. It's just… you seemed so much happier pretending everything was normal, and it made everything worse when we tried to make you talk about it."
Ginny nodded and quietly said, "Thank you. I - I wanted to be better so badly. Having you all act normally made it easier to feel normal."
"I did come to realize that, yes. I'm sorry it took so long," she said with a sad smile as she stroked Ginny's cheek. "Now, while I know nothing has happened yet, I have no doubt that you two will admit your feelings at some point, and when you do, I want you to be prepared."
"Mum!" Ginny exclaimed, blushing furiously and quickly looking around for eavesdroppers. She did not want to talk about this. Not about her feelings for Harry or the feelings people kept telling her that he had for her. And she definitely did not want to have the sex talk in the exposed kitchen of Grimmauld Place where any member of the Order could suddenly arrive.
She quickly used her wand to lock the kitchen door and set up a silencing charm.
On the surface, privacy was her concern. Her new wand felt warm and pleasant in her hand, however, like an extension of the best parts of herself, and it reminded her of something else - someone else - that felt similar.
Her heart was pounding as she remembered what she had seen in the office, how connected she and Harry had been in the most mesmerizing way, and how an unstoppable wave of hope swept over her as she recognized it. The feeling hadn't abated since. She knew how dangerous a thing hope could be, but this was a different kind of hope… there was something pure about it that was new. Harry's actions had done nothing to dissuade her of the notion and, on the contrary, had reinforced it.
It was dangerous territory. That beautiful hope could very well do her in, but there was nothing she could do to stop it. It had already taken root in her, from the tips of her toes to the ends of hair. She could no more rid herself of it than she could rid herself of the blood in her veins.
Her mother's laughter interrupted her musings. She felt that horrible flush spread across her cheeks and down her chest. "I know about… stuff," she said. "Do we really need to do this here? Now?" She pleaded.
Her mother opened her mouth to respond before snapping it shut as the fire flared green and Bill stepped out. She shot her mother an "I told you so" and turned to greet him, but stopped when Fleur stepped out behind him. She saw the thinning of her mum's lips as she caught sight of the French girl and understood immediately that her mother didn't approve of her brother's new fiancee. Fleur had apparently noticed too, because the excitement fled from her face and left only politeness in its place.
It was Fleur's kindness and understanding that day at Gringotts - and her love for her brother - that convinced her to stay in the kitchen and run interference between the two. Molly Weasley had hospitality down to an art and would in no way be outright rude to Fleur, but she was also quite capable of making someone feel inferior in the nicest possible way, so that they had no recourse that didn't make them look like an arse. Not that long ago, she might have wanted to help her mother use the strategy on an unsuspecting Fleur, but things had changed. She figured she owed the couple a few favors.
So she endured the awkward greetings and stayed in the kitchen with the older women, even though she would much rather follow Bill up the stairs to talk to the others.
It was not an enjoyable time and she was more than relieved when her mother left to gather everyone while she and Fleur stayed to finish preparing the trays and setting the table.
"Your muzzer 'ates me," Fleur said, her accent noticeably thicker than usual. The proud face she wore would have made it difficult to spot the underlying sadness in the words if Ginny hadn't known to look for it.
Ginny bit her lip. There was some truth to it. She had been watching the two carefully and discerned that while Fleur's contributions to the conversation had been an attempt to find common ground - the number of times she'd said "in France, we…" was absurd - that her mother had interpreted it as condescension. She didn't want to insinuate that it was Fleur's fault, because it was more her mother seeing what she wanted to see, but the older girl could do better with another tactic.
"There is no use in denying it. I know what it looks like. I have dealt with it my entire life," Fleur added.
Upon reflection, Ginny realized that was both probably true and very sad. Fleur's good looks and Veela charm would have set her apart and made other women envious, while men probably often gave her whatever she wanted without thought. Suddenly, Fleur's off-standish demeanor made a lot more sense.
"It's not really you," Ginny began gently. Fleur scoffed. "I mean it," she continued earnestly. "Mum… she has a tendency to view us in her own way, instead of how we really are. Bill was her first born, and I think she wants to believe that the direction he's taken his life is just a childish phase, that he hasn't grown up yet, but that he will someday and then he'll reach what she thinks is his full potential. Join the Ministry and follow in Dad's footsteps. Seeing him so committed to you though, someone glamorous and so unlike herself, is making her realize that's not who he is." She shook her head a bit. "She has a hard time letting go. It's easier for her to blame you than admit that."
Fleur gave her a shrewd look. "What about you, then?" she asked. "You're very grown up for the youngest, but from what Bill has said, she's given you a lot of responsibility."
"Guilt," Ginny said simply. Not wanting to explain, she continued quickly, "Look, there are two effective ways to handle our mum. Either you're direct and force the issue out into the open - and believe me, it doesn't always go well - or you butter her up," she explained, thinking of all the blow-up fights she and her mother had when the direct approach went south versus the way Fred and George could schmooze themselves out of trouble. "Just ask her how you can do things the way she does it. 'Bill simply raves about your chicken, Molly, but he's not interested in coq au vin. Can you tell me how to make it? He's so polite, but I know he prefers your cooking'. Or something."
Fleur let out a tinkling laugh that had Ginny wincing. Of course she sounds like an angel even when she laughs. She immediately put a stop to that thought. She was doing her best to limit any unnecessary jealousy, but it was still hard when Fleur's beauty radiated out of her even in the drab kitchen of Grimmauld Place.
"Oh, oui," Fleur said, the sarcasm was particularly ugly coming from her, but strangely made Ginny more endeared to the girl. "I'm sure she'll believe that."
Ginny shrugged. "I'm telling you, the woman sees what she wants to see." There were footsteps on the stairs now that Ginny assumed was her mother returning with the others. "Go on," she said, inclining her head to the door in gesture before turning back to the platter she was supposed to be preparing, "try it. Couldn't make it worse, in any case."
Fleur contemplated it before nodding. "This is true," she said with a nod.
The door to the kitchen opened, but it was not her mother returning. To her pleasant surprise, it was just Bill and Harry. Bill made a beeline for Fleur, greeting her with a kiss and quietly asking how things had been going. Ginny hardly noticed, because Harry made his way directly toward her.
"Hey," he said softly, leaning against the counter next to her. "Your mum went to find Ron and Hermione. Need any help?"
"I've got it," she said, appreciating the gesture but also worried about how tired he looked despite the smile he gave her. She turned around, resting her back against the counter and asking in a whisper, "How'd it go?"
He shrugged, leaning over and stealing a carrot off the tray she had been preparing. The movement brought him closer, so that his right side now rested against hers. He passed the vegetable back and forth between both hands until giving up and letting it dangle uneaten on his left side. His right hand went up and ruffled his hair, before giving up and placing it on the counter behind her.
"Bout as well as could be expected, really," he said tiredly. "Hermione pretended not to be upset before running off to the library. Ron looked completely stunned and said they'd be there for me, however they could."
She didn't miss the surprise in his tone. With a raised brow she asked, "Was that even a question?"
"I dunno," he said, looking embarrassed. "Wouldn't have blamed him if he didn't want to get involved," he added, looking away and taking a bite of the carrot quickly.
Ginny couldn't contain her eye-roll. "Silly boy," she said in exasperation. "We love you. Of course we're going to stick by you." She bumped his hip with hers in emphasis of how ridiculous the notion that they'd ever abandon him was.
He'd been standing with his legs crossed and her gentle push caused him to lose his balance. The arm behind her on the counter shot forward, wrapping around her waist to keep him balanced. She sputtered a little at the tight grip, finding herself firmly held against him now. The heat that Harry's touch caused was both new and familiar at this point and ignited immediately.
They pulled apart quickly at Fleur's laugh. Trying to control her blush, she glanced at her brother who was giving Harry an assessing look. "Bit clumsy there, Potter?"
Before Harry could stammer a response, she butted in, "I pushed him, Bill. I forgot that not everyone is made like a tank the way our brothers are."
Bill laughed. "I wouldn't call Ron or Percy tanks, but you are a deceptively strong little thing, aren't you?"
"Stop it, Bill," Fleur said lightly. "She'd have to be tough with all you boys running around. You should be grateful that she can take care of herself."
"I never said it was a bad thing," he defended.
"Non, but if it is good, then you should not tease her," she said, tapping the end of his nose with one of her delicate fingers. "You may regret it. I did." The way she laughed at herself increased Ginny's respect for her immensely, and a smile spread across her face. Harry laughed softly from beside her.
She tried to tamp it down and look contrite when Fleur looked her way, but the older girl smiled and shook her head. "You can laugh," she said. "I deserved it. To be clear, I'm sorry, to both of you. I was feeling rather attacked at the time - none of the students seemed happy with my being chosen for the tournament - but that is no excuse for trying to make others feel as though they were less."
Ginny smiled encouragingly. She had put it behind her already, but the formal apology was appreciated. "Thank you," she said warmly. "For the record, I may have overreacted, and I'm sorry."
Fleur turned to Harry, as did Ginny. It occurred to her that she hadn't seen the two actually interact since the tournament, aside from their mad dash out of Gringotts, which she didn't really count. His head quickly turned to Fleur when she looked at him, as if he had been staring at Ginny and didn't want to be caught looking. Now that she was focusing on him, she felt his fingers twirling the ends of her hair behind her back.
"It's fine, Fleur. Everyone had something bad to say about me that year. It's not like you were special or anything," he said teasingly.
Warmth spread through her. To some, the light way he spoke to Fleur may have seemed like flirting, but Harry wasn't like that. She'd seen him with Cho - he would get moon-eyed, blush and stammer, much the same way Ron did with Fleur. Most men were like that around Fleur, she noticed. Bill wasn't, but he looked at her with genuine admiration, not the spellbound look other males gave her. Harry's demeanor resembled neither - just one friend poking fun at another - and his amused eyes didn't linger before returning to Ginny's.
Instead of letting her thoughts get in the way, she leaned back and enjoyed the comfortable moment, beaming as she looked into his eyes. Harry's hand was still twirling her hair so gently she had to concentrate to feel it, while Fleur leaned happily into Bill's side looking like two halves of a whole. The four of them sharing a content silence was nothing she ever would have imagined just weeks ago, but it was happening now, feeling surprisingly right.
Footsteps on the stairs brought her back to reality. Ron and Hermione entered the kitchen and headed for Harry. She began setting the plates as soon as she heard the noise, but hadn't moved fast enough - her mother was there scowling at the unset table before she could finish.
"Molly!" Fleur said, sounding relieved. "Ginny was trying to show me how to prepare the vegetables for the soup tonight. She did her best, but she doesn't have much practice and couldn't show me how to get the pieces even like you were. Can you teach me? I'm afraid my own mother was not much of a cook and it would mean so much to me if you could help. It's important for a woman to be able to cook, no? If Bill is to be believed, no one can cook like his mother, and I would very much like to learn from the best."
Ginny shot Fleur a mock glare, but the French woman smiled innocently at her. Her mum eyed the two with suspicion, but began showing Fleur her technique.
"You really should be paying attention, Ginny. You too, Hermione," she said, politely demanding the younger girls join in. She looked over in time to catch the disgruntled look on Hermione's face and Ron's blush as Bill spoke to him in quiet tones. Harry sat beside them looking amused until a look from Bill silenced him.
Hermione reluctantly joined them, though she became more interested as she realized Mrs. Weasley was using magic. Ginny had seen it all before and found nothing interesting about it, but realized that to a muggleborn, magical kitchen practices would be completely foreign, since they would have no exposure to them at school or at home. Even when Hermione stayed with them at the Burrow, she would have had little opportunity to see it, as Ginny's mum always had the children help prepare the meals without magic as a means of keeping them busy and out of trouble.
Both younger girls actually did watch - and practice in Ginny' case - with them. Fleur kept up her innocent facade, asking pertinent questions without appearing condescending. The shift in her demeanor teamed with Hermione's genuine curiosity had her mother was answering them kindly rather than with distrust after only a few minutes. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny noticed Bill watching his fiancee and mother interact with an amused smile on his face.
"I still prefer to do it by hand," Harry whispered. She jumped, not realizing he had come up behind her. "Come on," he said, tugging her hand and pulling her into the seat beside his.
Ron sat across from them, happily munching on what little food Ginny had managed to get on the table before Fleur distracted her mum. He was looking at the group preparing food still and greeted her distractedly with a full mouth. She grimaced but ignored it, carefully watching him to see who exactly he was looking at. Harry pulled her attention before she could figure it out for sure, though she rather thought- and hoped - it was Hermione who was holding his attention.
"So," he said quietly, pulling her attention. "I talked to Bill and set up training times with him, Fleur, and Tonks so far. If it's okay with you."
"I'm sure it's all fine," she replied, unconcerned. It's not like they had any other plans trapped as they were in Grimmauld Place.
"You sure? We start Occlumency with Fleur-"
"I trust your judgement," she cut in. "Besides, she's really not that bad," she added, looking over at the woman in question. She found Harry eyeing her in surprise when she looked back at him. Offended, she said, "I'm not that unreasonable, Harry."
"No," he said quickly. "I know that, but I'm nervous about it and we get on pretty well. I thought it would be worse for you."
She nodded. "I'm not really comfortable with anyone in my head," she said thoughtfully, "but Fleur has been surprisingly respectful toward me and I can respect and appreciate that." It was true. Fleur hadn't treated Ginny any differently than she had Mum. She had treated her like an equal.
"Really?" he asked skeptically. "After what she just said about your cooking skills, I thought you'd feel otherwise."
Ginny waved a dismissive hand. "It was smart, actually. She was just taking my advice."
Harry didn't comment further, though he still had that faint air of surprise about him. Instead he replied, "Well, that's good."
"Yup," she said. The four others had finished preparing now and laid the food out across the table. Eyeing it, she asked, "Can we eat now? I'm starving."
He laughed and handed her the tray. "Still a Weasley in appetite, I see," he said playfully. "Where you people hide all that food, I'll never figure out."
"Just you wait," she replied. "Mum will have you eating like the rest of us in no time."
The rest of the meal passed with similar good natured ribbing. Her mother still seemed skeptical of Fleur, but was much more open than she had been before. She noted with amusement that Ron kept his chair angled toward Hermione, her, and Harry, pointed slightly away from where Fleur sat at the end of the table with Bill and her mum. As much as she wanted to take the mickey, she kept her comments to herself. She didn't want to spark an argument between her brother and his crush, since they seemed to finally be progressing toward something more than just friendship.
He put his own foot in it shortly after that by turning into an idiot when Fleur kissed his cheek in farewell at the end of the meal. She did feel a little bad for him, however, because he looked about as angry at himself as Hermione seemed to be. It was reassuring to see Hermione's jealousy, however, because it meant she wasn't entirely freaking out about the prophecy news. Then again, perhaps Hermione had already expected it.
She didn't get a chance to ask. Her mum roped them all into chores, insisting they needed to clean the place much better now that they knew they would be staying there for the foreseeable future. The rest of the day passed in a disgusting blur of dust, dirt, and grime. She was sufficiently sore and worn out by the time she and Harry had gotten ready for bed and met up in their room.
As she climbed into bed, she asked through a yawn, "I know we have a lot to talk about, but can we talk do it tomorrow? I'm so tired."
Harry nodded, looking exhausted himself. He yawned too. "Sounds good."
She awoke some time later to a loud noise. She pulled out her wand instinctively, pointing it at the door. Harry was quicker than her, the red jet of light illuminating the room indicating he'd sent a stunner at whatever created the disturbance. She threw up a shield directly behind it.
"Mistress Ginevra," said a croaking voice.
She let the shield drop as she recognized Kreacher's voice. Sagging in relief, she pulled Harry's wand arm down. His hand shook beneath hers, reminding her how different his life had been from hers that he was always prepared for an attack. Her heart ached for all that he'd been through, even as it sped up as she worried about what Kreacher was doing there in the middle of the night.
"What's happened? Is everyone alright?" She asked in a rush.
"Mistress Ginevra and Master have a visitor. The Headmaster of their school tried to get them, but Kreacher's magic stopped them," he said. It sounded to Ginny like he was rather pleased with himself. "He wishes for Mistress and Master to join him, but assured Kreacher it is not urgent."
Ginny let out her breath in relief as Harry did the same. She laid back and stared at the ceiling. "Sure, Kreacher. Only him though, and only this once, 'kay?" She replied, desperately wanting to just go back to bed with Harry. She rubbed her eyes and fought against the urge to give in to the exhaustion. "Study!" she called, as she woke up a bit more. "Bring just him to the study. We'll meet him there."
"Yes, Mistress," he replied, bowing and disappearing with a crack.
Ginny looked down at herself and groaned. "Ugh. I really need to bring my clothes up here." Her threadbare dressing gown and Ron's old shirt was really not something she wanted the headmaster to see her in.
Harry, who had been grumbling about Kreacher, sat up and put on his glasses. He handed her his own robe. "Take mine. Dumbledore has seen me looking much worse than this."
The headmaster was waiting in the study when they arrived, appearing far too awake for the middle of the night, particularly considering how tired he had looked earlier that day. He smiled jovially at them, "Good evening. I apologize for the late hour, but I have a lead on my friend Horace and thought there would be no better time than the present."
Ginny bit back a snappy retort. She didn't believe for a second that it just so happened the man had tracked down Slughorn at nearly three o'clock in the morning. It seemed much more likely to her that this was a power play on Dumbeldore's part. She didn't blame him for it - it was probably a clever move actually - but he could at least be honest with his allies.
Harry didn't seem to share her compunctions. He shrugged sleepily but offered his assent. "Sure, why not?" He turned to her, "Right, Gin?"
"Fine," she replied. She didn't want to say anything about it right now, but she was still irritated with the headmaster. His blackened hand looked as horrid and painful as it did earlier, but he had removed the ring that once belonged to Tom. She couldn't help wondering if it was to avoid further questioning by her or his "friend" Slughorn. "But I need to get ready first." She turned to Dumbledore. "I assume I have time enough for that?" she asked, with only a small amount of belligerence.
Dumbledore's response was artificially nonchalant as he replied, "You really need not trouble yourself at all, Miss Black. Harry's presence alone shall be sufficient. It is late, after all. Are you sure you wouldn't rather stay and return to your rest?"
Her temper hadn't managed to form into a coherent rant before Harry was responding firmly, "Ginny is coming with us, sir. Or I'm going back to bed as well."
Relief swelled. Harry had assured her earlier that he wanted to include her - and she hadn't missed the significant looks the two had shared before Dumbledore asked for her opinion in his office earlier, during which Harry must have conveyed this message to the headmaster - but it was reassuring to see that Harry intended to follow through on his word.
Dumbledore nodded before addressing her again. "Of course, Miss Black," he replied graciously.
She took her time getting ready. Part of it was a necessity, because she had been too tired to take care of her hair before bed and gone to sleep with it wet - something she was paying for now as it looked like something had nested in it. The other part was because she needed time to wake up and get her wits about her if she was going to get answers from Dumbledore that night. She was confident that getting any straight answers from the man would be difficult at best, and closer to impossible if she were half asleep.
Harry and Dumbledore were deep in conversation when she returned. She caught enough of the conversation to realize Harry was grilling the older man about Fawkes and the feathers he had given Ollivander. He seemed fixated on when Fawkes had given them and if Dumbledore had known. She didn't really understand his interest. Despite the unfortunate connection, she (like Harry himself) couldn't bring herself to regret her new wand choosing her. She finally understood what he meant when he said his wand felt like an extension of himself.
It seemed foolish to her that he was wasting so much time on it. She was far more interested in Tom Riddle's ring, as well as the memory Slughorn possessed and why it was so important to Dumbledore. There was more going on here than he was letting on, and Ginny didn't have Harry's faith in the man.
Dumbledore gave her no time to ask about either. He stood as soon as she entered, looking down at his watch and saying, "Ah. Perfect timing. We must be going now. I wouldn't want to have to track him down again."
Ginny sat instead She decided now, when Dumbledore clearly wanted Harry, was the best time to try to leverage information out of him. "No. There are some things we need to talk about first. And I don't believe that your potential professor is going to run off in the next hour." She looked at Harry without waiting for his agreement. "Have you told him about the training we've set up?"
He looked sheepish as he replied, "No."
Dumbledore interjected, "Training? For what, exactly? And by whom?" The thread of interest lead back to something deeper, though Ginny couldn't determine what exactly.
Still she answered pointedly, "The prophecy makes it inevitable that Harry will face Tom again. He's going to win, but he can't hope to do that if all he has in his arsenal are spells as basic as Expelliarmus." Dumbledore's expression shifted slightly, but he made no comment, so she continued. "We've talked to Bill. He's going to give us as much training as he can in wards. We may only get as far as detecting them, but he's going to try to teach us how to take them down too."
"A wise idea," Dumbledore said. "It takes quite a large amount of power to disable something as complex as antiaparition ward, but I don't believe that should be a problem for either of you." The twinkle in his eye made Ginny think the statement was supposed to be conciliatory, but she wasn't feeling placated.
"Tonks has also agreed to teach us of some of the Auror tricks, though I'd like to ask Moody as well," she said.
"He's mad," Harry put in, "but he didn't survive this long without being excellent at what he does."
Dumbledore nodded. "Astute observation. It is why I was so pleased to welcome him to the staff your fourth year."
Ginny scowled at the mention of the Death Eater impersonator that had successfully masqueraded as the auror and carried out Harry's abduction. Not wanting to lose her temper and spoil her whole plan, she focused back on detailing their training.
"And Fleur is going to teach us Occlumency," she said with finality.
Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise momentarily before he smoothed his expression. "Are you sure that's wise? Knowledge of the prophecy alone is dangerous. Perhaps it would be better if Severus - ".
"No," Harry butted in quickly. "Even if I wanted to, Snape wouldn't take me." His gaze cut to her before he looked back at the headmaster. Though their eyes had only met briefly, Ginny was surprised to see the hard, resolute look on his face. "And he's not doing to Ginny what he did to me." He shook his head. "No. Absolutely not," he added emphatically.
A small part of her wanted to protest him speaking for her, but the more rational side of her pointed out that she was about to do the same for him. She allowed that thought to comfort her and directed all her anger at the headmaster. "Snape may be a brilliant Occlumens, but he's a rotten, sadistic teacher," she said, backing Harry. "Neither of us needs that. I trust Fleur, as does Harry, and we'll decide who we allow access to our secrets."
"As is your right," Dumbledore agreed, though his tone was wary. "Though you must understand, if I cannot trust that the secrets I share with you will be kept, then I cannot answer all the questions you will ask of me."
Harry huffed beside her and Ginny took a deep breath. "The whole point of learning Occlumency is so that we can keep those secrets," she said. "We're not idiots. Fleur isn't either, nor is her mind unprotected."
Harry tapped at her clenched hand and she released the fist she had been holding. Holding it in his, he addressed Dumbledore calmly. "When and if it comes down to that, we'll just have to see how far along we are in our training. Maybe it won't even matter."
"Very well. We can reassess when the time comes. As I mentioned at our last meeting, it was my intention that said time not begin until the school year had resumed. You had, however, expressed concerns about this," he said, leveling a look at her specifically.
It felt like a challenge, and Ginny stuck her chin out stubbornly as she met his gaze. "I did, and I do still. If what knowledge you have already is so valuable that you don't trust Fleur, a triwizard champion and member of the Order with it, then we need to know it too."
"We will have time," he replied, but his eyes dropped to his damaged hand.
Harry spoke quietly as he asked, "Is it cursed, Professor? The ingredients Snape came for, well, they're not very common." Ginny knew the same thing, but she didn't expect the headmaster to answer such a direct question.
Dumbledore looked at Harry for a long moment, and Ginny had the feeling they were once more having a one-sided conversation through legillimency. When his blue eyes turned to her, she made no attempt to hide her lack of faith in his assurances. He sighed heavily before lifting the hand to the light, truly showing the horrible damage it had sustained. This time, he allowed his wince to show as he flexed the fingers.
"It is, my boy," he said calmly. "I know the trajectory however, and this shall not be what kills me. I can assure you of that."
"Speaking of," Ginny said, "would you care to tell us now how you got it? And how it relates to Tom Riddle's ring?"
"Actually, before we begin, I was hoping you may care to tell me how you know it as such, and if there is anything more you could tell me that would be of use," he replied. She might have thought it an evasion tactic, except he was staring at her with a level of interest that made her feel uncomfortable. He was asking for information that could only be garnered by probing memories she had fought so hard to lock away, and she stiffened against her will.
Harry's grip kept her grounded, as did his angry defense. "Is that really necessary? She doesn't need to relive any of that," he said firmly.
"I do believe it is, Harry," he said gravely. "It is my thought, knowing the prophecy, that you cannot hope to defeat your enemy unless you first understand him. For many years now - though admittedly with more focus over the last few specifically - I have been studying Tom Marvolo Riddle's past, trying to grasp his nature more fully and what he had done that enabled his rise to power. I had hoped to share the information I gathered through a collection of memories during our private lessons this coming term. However, I believe I have overlooked a rather valuable source." He turned his piercing gaze on Ginny as he continued, "It never occurred to me, Miss Black, that you may have retained some of Tom Riddle's memories first-hand. I had assumed - like most, I believe - that once the diary had perished, so had all he had given you. Yet, looking at your magical core, the stains still remain, as do the shadows, I imagine. For how else could you know of such an item?"
Ginny looked at him blankly. The man questioning her was not the headmaster as she knew him. This was the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, the head of the Wizengamot, the man Fudge had been afraid of. He was shrewd and calculating, and she knew he was not asking this of her without reason. Her skin crawled at the prospect of it, but she couldn't refuse him the answers he sought.
"Can you," she had to swallow against the tightening in her throat to continue speaking. Already she felt dirty, like she were covered in the grime and blood once more, and she squeezed Harry's hand with both of hers to fight off the urge to scrape under her nails. She tried again, "Can you just pull them out? I don't… I can't…" she struggled to get the words out.
"I understand, Miss Black," Dumbledore said, his demeanor softening back to the man she was familiar with. "At our next meeting, I shall come prepared with the pensieve, if that is agreeable."
She exhaled in relief and nodded. "Thank you."
"Of course, my dear. It is the preferred method, in any event. It is how I acquired all the others, as well as what I hope to do with Horace Slughorn. Once we retrieve him," he said, glancing down at his watch. "Ah, it seems time has gotten away from us. We must be getting along now if we hope to catch him," he said as he stood and swept out of the room without waiting for confirmation.
Harry shrugged, offering her a hand up and leading her down the stairs after him. They caught up to Dumbledore in the front hall, where the man was looking at the former resting place of Walburga Black's portrait thoughtfully. Ginny let out a small breath of annoyance. He's easily distracted for someone who claims to be in a hurry.
"I must say, I find myself quite surprised to see you have found a way to remove the portrait. Even I could not nullify the stubborn charm. How did you manage it?"
"Kreacher," Ginny said simply, doing her best to let the annoyance go.
The older wizard chuckled. "Ah, wizards can be rather foolish, can't we? It is important to remember that. Never underestimate your allies or your opponents, no matter their size." He looked at her directly. "I must say I was impressed by the way Kreacher spoke of you and the protections he placed on the house. I would not have been able to reach you had he not allowed it."
"Kreacher is…" she paused, trying to find the right word for him. Her feelings were still complicated toward him, but he really did seem to care about her.
"Loyal," Harry filled in, his look pained. "He's loyal to those who are loyal to him," he clarified. Ginny nodded and squeezed the hand she still held in comfort.
"Very wise of you then, to offer such loyalty," Dumbledore replied.
Ginny ignored him and led Harry down the stairs to the kitchen, eager to move away from the area and the topic of conversation. As she opened the door, it occurred to her that she didn't have an idea where they were going and she looked over her shoulder. "Where are we going exactly?" Ginny asked Dumbledore. "Do we even need the floo? Or were we going to apparate?"
She didn't get to hear his reply, a different voice greeting her with a shout and soon as they stepped into the kitchen. "Where do you two think you're going?!"
Ginny jumped and turned toward her mother in surprise. She was in her dressing gown, worn slippers upon her feet and her hair looking like she had been pulling on it. The large Weasley family clock sat on the table next to a cup of tea that no longer gave off steam, and Ginny knew she must have been up a long time for her mum to have let the warming charm dissipate as she stared at the bulky locator.
"Mum!" Ginny exclaimed. "What are you doing up?"
Her mother pinned a glare on her that made her flinch. "I woke up to check on you, but I couldn't get upstairs," she said angrily. Ginny realized with a start that Kreacher must have misunderstood her and allowed only Dumbledore up the stairs. "I checked the clock and it said you were home. I then checked the Burrow, but no one had been there, so I came back, but I couldn't check here either."
Dumbledore stepped forward. "Hello, Molly," he said pleasantly, ignoring the angry look on her face. "I'm quite sorry to have worried you this evening. I -"
"It is morning now! What were you thinking? Taking the children Merlin knows where in the middle of the night without so much as a warning! You had no right!" she raged against him. Ginny couldn't help but be surprised to see her mother talking to the headmaster as if he were a wayward child.
"I am quite sorry for worrying you, but seeing as Harry and Ginny are no longer technically children - ".
"That is not the point. She is my daughter! And he is as good as my son. The only part of the emancipation that has any relevance is that I no longer have to let him go to those horrible muggles because you said so! It does not mean that you can encourage them to run off!"
"Mum," Ginny said again. Her mother turned angry eyes on her, breathing heavily. She shouldn't have agreed to go with Dumbledore without leaving a note, especially since her mum just told her the previous day that she often checked on them at night.
"Don't even try it, Ginevra," she said stonily. "You may have the legal rights of an adult, but I am still your mother. At least when you went to Longbottom Manor, you had the decency to tell me where you were going! Not disappear in the middle of the night with no word." She turned to Harry. "I may not be your mother, but I love you like one of my own. I have spent far too many nights not knowing where you were or how you were doing, and I will no longer allow it. Is that clear?"
Ginny nodded immediately, eager to show her mother that she was not going to be difficult. Harry was immobile beside her, simply staring at her mum with wide eyes. She elbowed him and he snapped out of it. "Nod," she whispered out of the corner of her mouth.
He did what she said, nodding vigorously and added a stuttering, "Y-yes."
Something in her mother's eyes softened as she looked at Harry. Ginny could see the understanding there, the knowledge that he wasn't used to having someone looking out for him or caring where he was had taken the wind out of her sails. That didn't mean she would completely forgive them either.
"Good. Now you two need to go back to bed," she ordered in a much more controlled voice before turning her attention back to Dumbledore. Ginny nodded and pulled Harry along quickly, hoping to avoid drawing her mum's attention again. They had almost cleared the doorway when she heard her mother add sharply, "in your own beds tonight. Thank you."
As bad as Ginny felt for worrying her mum and as much as she was not looking forward to the coming lecture or sleeping in Hermione's room, she still felt like smiling. This woman was the mother she had always known, not the passive one she'd seen in the past two weeks, and it was good to have her back.