A/N: This chapter wouldn't have gone up tonight without Luke. We all owe him a thank you. Love you Luke!
Ginny woke up deliriously happy.
Harry was wrapped around her from behind, his arms keeping her tucked tight in his embrace and his face buried in her hair, his breath tickling her neck with every exhale. It wasn't the first time this had happened, but it was the first time she knew for certain that it meant something.
Harry kissed me!
The stupid, childish thought would not relent. What was worse, she didn't care to try to stop it. As many times over the years that she had tried to deny it or push it away, the truth was that kissing Harry was something she had been dreaming about for a very long time. It was even better than she imagined.
Even the fact that the news of the betrothal was likely to be splattered all over the front page of the Prophet today couldn't diminish her enthusiasm. It was almost inevitable after the letter Percy had sent last night to let them know that the Minister now knew and also suspected a leak at the Ministry. Her mood was such that instead of it bringing her down, she idly wondered if they had managed to find a decent picture of them.
Her mother and father had looked worried at the news, but Harry hadn't seemed to care any more than Ginny had. They both knew it was bound to happen eventually and were too happy to give it much attention.
By unspoken agreement, neither had said anything about the change in their relationship. Though the sidelong glances he kept sending her were far too happy looking to be inconspicuous, and likely clued in the most observant at the table.
Ginny reveled in the way his expression made her feel. The bright, warm feeling was intensified by the way their legs touched beneath the table throughout the entire meal and how he kept twirling the ends of her hair behind her back whenever he thought they could get away with it.
Even the knowing look Fleur sent her and her mother's reminder to keep the door open that night couldn't take away from the feeling that they were standing in direct sunlight after spending weeks locked away in a dark place. The feeling didn't fade, following her into her dreams as she fell asleep with her head on Harry's chest, the beating of his heart both warm and comforting.
Harry stirred behind her now, his arm wrapping more firmly around her waist as his nose nuzzled her neck with purpose. "Gin," he said, his voice thick from sleep.
Ginny smiled to herself, remembering a similar incident several weeks ago. She had written it off at the time, but given last night, she now knew it had meant something. He had been thinking about her even then. The thought overwhelmed her with excitement and she twisted in his grasp to face him, planting her lips on his without warning.
He inhaled quickly in surprise at her sudden movement, but immediately responded. The enthusiasm he put into the action rivaled her own and she couldn't stop herself from deepening it.
It was warm and intoxicating - minute details such as morning breath and knotted hair completely beyond her notice - and ignited a tingling fire in the valley between her hips that spread down. The sensation began as something close to anxiety, but was more thrilling and anticipatory than anything. She reluctantly pulled back before she could get carried away by the urge to do something about it.
"Good morning," she said through a smile.
It was with a dazed expression that he replied, "Yeah." When she laughed, a happy contented sound, he seemed to snap out of it and added, "A really good morning, actually." A quick flare a panic flashed across his face and he rolled away, grabbing his glasses off the bedside table and leaving some distance between them.
It wasn't until he had pulled away that Ginny realized the throbbing between her legs had not been entirely her own and that her hardened nipples were visible through the old shirt she wore. She quickly pulled the blanket more securely over her before he could turn back around. By the time he had put his glasses on, she was fully covered but red in the face.
It was with relief that she saw his cheeks were bright too as he looked at her with a sheepish smile. "Hi," he said, sounding embarrassed.
His nerves settled her own. Smiling fully, she replied, "Hi." Very carefully, she leaned over and gave him a peck on the lips. After pulling back, she added, "I agree. A really good morning." She paused then, looking at the still dark room. "At least, I think it's actually morning. I mean, I feel wide awake, so I'm assuming it is, but I don't think I've heard Mum moving around yet."
Harry's laughter had her cutting off. She realized now that she had begun to ramble, the nervous excitement she felt needing an outlet. It wasn't embarrassment that made her cut off, but happiness - Harry's laugh was more light and contented than she had ever heard it - and she didn't want to miss any of it. She considered herself lucky to have allowed herself to be childish and happy for those few private hours before the rest of the world intruded upon their day.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The first article to arrive, and really the most interesting to them, was on the cover of The Daily Prophet. Minister Scrimgeour must have been trying to gain favor with Harry, because it was a complete retracement of everything the Ministry had said about Sirius Black since 1981. It didn't discuss Harry directly, but elevated Sirius to hero status in his crusade to protect his godson. It was far too little too late, but one look from Harry and Ginny knew it had comforted them both to see the truth about someone they both loved so greatly out in the open.
The second article - the one more likely to gain popularity because of its salacious nature - arrived on the cover of Witch Weekly. Featuring heavy quoting from Narcissa Malfoy, it proclaimed that Ginny, and her parents as well, were gold-digging manipulators who had hoodwinked her weak and damaged cousin into signing over not only his fortune, but his godson through the use of dark magic. That was just what Narcissa has said, all under the guise of lamenting Harry's fate, but the subtext was even worse.
"The circumstances surrounding Mr. Black's escape from Azkaban and his subsequent state of mind are unclear. What is clear, however, is that he did not return to his own family, but instead became acquainted with Miss Black (née Weasley). One has to wonder what kind of relationship developed between the man and the pretty young woman to convince him to forsake his living relatives and bequeath the substantial Black fortune and family to a girl he hardly knew," quoted Harry, the hardness in his expression unmistakable. "You're fourteen, as if you would ever - or he would ever - agh." He shoved the paper away viciously.
Ginny herself was rather unhappy with the words that had been printed slandering her character, but being angry right now was far less important than calming Harry down. She remembered that feeling well, when the papers had been tearing Harry's character to shreds last year, or even before that when Rita Skeeter was printing such obvious lies about him just to sell papers, and knew how easy it was to be carried away by righteous anger in defense of someone you loved. Not that she thought Harry loved her, she reminded herself, but the same principle applied. Especially if he thought he was to blame.
"None of this matters," she said reassuringly. "It's nothing you haven't been through before. It will pass, you know that."
His livid eyes met hers, "Yeah, I have, which is how I know people are awful and cruel and will believe this shit." He crumpled the paper and threw it into the fire, watching it burn with an anger that was disturbing. "She knew she couldn't get any of the money, so she settled for trying to ruin you," he said darkly.
Ginny shrugged, sitting back and deciding it was best just to let him brood. She would only get annoyed if he kept rebuffing her attempts to cheer him up. "Yeah, well, we have bigger things to worry about right now. It's not like I haven't experienced people saying horrible things about me before. At least this time, I know none of it is true," she said honestly.
His eyes shot to hers, guilt there. She could tell he hadn't known what people had been saying about her during her second year. She shook her head, wordlessly telling him not to apologize.
He gave her an understanding smile, though his expression didn't fully clear. "It just seems like it won't be wise to be in public for a bit, and I had thought - I mean, I wanted to go..." he blew out a breath before continuing, "I thought we could… do something, you know, for my birthday," he said, sounding less frustrated and more uncertain now.
The mention of their potential date inflated her mood. Teasingly, she said, "Don't tell me you've already forgotten what I told you?" At his quizzical expression she explained, "Anything is possible if you've got enough nerve."
She felt lucky that he laughed and she chuckled too. For a moment, she had worried it was the wrong choice of words, bringing up Sirius like that, but it didn't hurt as much this time. Probably because she was certain he would have approved.
"You're right," he said softly.
"I know," she said simply, winking at him to let him know she wasn't serious. Placing a reassuring hand on his and leaning in, she added, "I'm looking forward to it too, Harry. We'll think of something."
"Good," he replied, his voice lowering as he looked around the empty kitchen. Their solitude confirmed, he leaned in and kissed her softly. Despite it having been less than a day, Ginny had lost count of how many times they'd done that. The action already felt familiar, and yet no less exciting than the first time. She was sorely tempted to lose herself in it - any potential family members who may walk in be damned - but the floo flared and the kitchen door opened at nearly the same time, and she was forced to pull back quickly.
Percy was standing there in the doorway, looking completely shocked at his surroundings. She and Harry had been working on fixing things around the place - Kreacher had been much more compliant about removing the unsightly aspects of the house recently and they had been replacing things slowly - but she knew it still wasn't a very nice place to be. His appalled expression almost made her laugh.
Harry's sudden rise to his feet pulled her attention however. He was smiling and greeting Remus Lupin, who had just arrived via floo, happily. His excitement both warm her and ignited a flare of resentment toward her former professor for his absence. Deciding it was best to allow them some time together, she turned back to her brother and Professor Dumbledore.
She turned to Dumbledore first. His expression was both knowing and pleased. She was sure hers just bordered on civil. "Hello, Headmaster." Her tone was polite, if a little distant. She had expected to see him much sooner than this.
"Good morning, Miss Black," he replied pleasantly. "I hope you do not mind that I have allowed your brother in on the secret. He has recently made a change that will leave him with much more free time, and I am certain your mother would prefer that he spend his time here, given his new availability."
Ginny's brow rose slightly at that, glancing at her brother's reddening cheeks. From the sound of it, Percy had lost his job, but rather than looking dejected, he looked proud. Her smile grew more pronounced despite her upset with Dumbledore. "I'm sure you're correct, sir."
Percy's hesitant eyes were now on her, searching for something. She directed her smile to him, meeting his eyes to put him at ease, and pleased to see he relaxed and smiled back nervously. It was true she was upset with him for hurting their family - for essentially spitting on all that they stood for in the name or ambition - but being angry about it wouldn't fix things. If she's learned anything this summer it was being together as a family was more important than everything else. Plus, apologizing wasn't her strong suit either.
Dumbledore drew her attention, "I hope you do not mind the intrusion, dear, but given the recent news, I believe it best I call a quick order meeting. It would be wise to keep everyone up to date."
Ginny grimaced at the implication that their news needed clarifying. He wants to make sure everyone knows you're not a harlot. Still, she consented. It was important that their side remain united.
With her agreement, Dumbledore left the kitchen to… well, she didn't know what methods he used to summon the Order, but she assumed he was off to do that. It left her sitting in an awkward silence with Percy. She waited patiently while his jaw worked, beginning and abandoning several attempts to speak, while she kept an eye on Harry chatting eagerly with Professor Lupin. She had several things to say to the man, none of which she wanted to share in front of Harry.
When Harry stood, still speaking rapidly with an excited glint in his eye, she finally turned to her brother. Firmly, but without censure, she said, "Look, Percy, you messed up. We both know that. But you're clearly trying here, and that's what matters." She made sure she had his full attention before continuing, "You have a second chance. Just do better this time. Deal?"
He floundered for a moment, but eventually found his voice. "Yes." He paused and added thoughtfully, "You've grown so much, Ginny."
She barely heard him though, distracted as she watched Harry exit the kitchen in a happy rush. It seemed now was the best opening to talk to Lupin without his presence that Ginny was going to get. With a rushed kiss on her brother's cheek, she excused herself from his presence and made her way to her former professor's side.
Lupin was still watching the door Harry had disappeared through. He looked ragged and exhausted, but there was a fond tilt to his lips. "He seems happy," he said by way of greeting, a bittersweet note in his quiet voice. "I didn't expect him to be in such good spirits, particularly with this," he said gesturing to the paper.
Whatever sympathy his wretched appearance had inspired in her was obliterated by that sentence. "He wasn't two weeks ago," she said. The accusation in her tone was clear as she continued, "Where the hell have you been?"
His expression closed off. Tonelessly, he replied, "I was on a mission for the Order."
"And the Order is more important than Harry?" she shot back. "You must have known he'd be struggling, yet you ran off at the first opportunity." She shook her head and continued with less bitterness, "What were you thinking? You're the last connection he has to them - his parents and Sirius. He needed you."
"I - " he began, but she decided she didn't care to hear it.
"It doesn't matter," she said with finality. "You're here now." Her words were another version of what she had just said to Percy, but she couldn't find it in her to be as gentle with Lupin as she continued, "Fix it. I know it's been hard, but as the last Marauder worth a damn, it's your responsibility now to be there for him." She stood to leave, but had another thought. "I think you need him too. There's no reason any of us should be alone in this." As she opened the door, she caught sight of Tonks coming down the stairs and couldn't hold back adding just one more last thing. "Don't forget that there are people who will love you if you just let them."
She left then, heading in search of Harry. She had a feeling he had gone to get Mischief Managed to ask Lupin some questions and would be back any moment, but her nerves were fried between dealing with Percy, Lupin, and Dumbledore - three men she respected in various ways, but that she couldn't help feeling disappointed with as well. A few quiet minutes with Harry to gather her thoughts sounded like the perfect antidote to her stress. Being with him was just… comforting. Whenever they were together, there was the ineffable feeling that he was where she was supposed to be.
He ran into her in the doorway to their room, catching her as she stumbled back from the surprise impact. He was a blur of movement and words as he said, "Sorry! I'm glad you're here. I wanted to grab a few things, but the box is locked." The words were so rushed that it took a minute for her to parse out their meaning, during which time he had already pressed her charm to the lock and popped the box open.
"No!" she said, hurriedly reaching for it. She had quickly put his present in there while he was in the bathroom last night, but she hadn't had time to move it to the bottom yet. One day! I just wanted to keep it out of sight for one day, she thought as she tried to grab the box from his hands. Her frustration made her clumsy though, and it fell to the floor, its contents spilling everywhere.
She groaned in frustration. The picture she had found, along with the letter from Harry's mother, had been the first item to hit the ground and she heard it as the glass shattered. A quick Reparo would fix it, but he'd no doubt see it in the mess. Their collections of letters were luckily tied and hadn't spread about in a mess, and their individual boxes hadn't open either. What had caught Harry's attention - and hers now too - was a small jewellery bag that she hadn't known was in there until now. It was attached to a letter with Harry's name on it.
Harry didn't speak. He simply reached down with a cautious hand to grab the unexpected bundle, and moved to sit on the edge of the bed. With a few quick flicks of her wand, the mess was organized into piles and the damage repaired. Just as quietly, she joined him.
"If it were something good, he would have put it with the rest, right?" He asked softly.
She bit her lip. It did seem strange that it wasn't with his other things, but the Black rings had been with Harry's things. What kind of jewelry would Sirius have left him that could be worse than that. Unless…
Excited she remembered, "I knocked it over. Remember, I told you? Everything spilled and I didn't want to go through your things, so I just blindly put it all back in… I probably just missed it."
Harry exhaled in relief beside her. "Okay," he said, pulling the parchment free from the bag. He hesitated, looking between the two, before unrolling the parchment first. Leaning closer, he angled it so that she could see without her having to ask. She had barely finished the first line before he was pushing the parchment toward her and opening the smaller bag.
Three rings were inside, clearly a matched wedding set for both a man and a woman. Harry looked at them with an intense expression. It wasn't quite greedy, but he was clearly soaking up every detail. Ginny was too, but she was simply caught by how beautiful they were.
The gold rings were clearly goblin made, inlaid with sapphire and diamonds in intricate patterns that resembled stars in the night sky. There was some sort of bird of prey on the man's ring, and it struck her that she - and Harry too, she was sure - knew nothing about Euphemia before she became Lady Potter. This gift was more than just an heirloom, but also a guide.
She let him take his time, offering support with her presence, but not interrupting his thoughts. These weren't things he should have to wonder about - he should have had family to tell them - but there was nothing she could do or say to change it or make it better right now. After a few minutes, he was ready to move on and they resumed reading.
These rings belonged to your grandmother Euphemia's family. She was the last of her family line as well, her brothers having lost their lives during the war with Grindelwald. As the wife of Fleamont, the only remaining Potter, she was expected to wear his ring, but she held onto these so fiercely that I could scarcely believe it the day your parents were married when she sat me down and handed them to me.
She said that she had never been able to bear a second child, but she had "been blessed with one" in me. It was her hope that when I found someone to love the way your father loved Lily, that I would use these rings to express that devotion and pass them down to my own children.
I never found that one, kiddo. You were the closest thing I ever had or wanted to my own child, and I love you as if you were, the same way your grandparents loved me. These are special, Harry. They mean something to me, just as they meant something to your grandmother, and they are only to be used when it really means something. I truly hope you get that chance.
The writing continued on another sheet, but Harry made no move to look at the next page. His focus had gone back to the three rings lined up in the palm of his open hand.
"Sirius told me that my dad's parents had taken him in, that he and Dad were like brothers… but I never knew that they really loved him like that." He paused before continuing in a mystified tone, "I didn't know that was possible… that people could really love another's child like their own."
Conflict raged through her. There was a fire burning, one that demanded she repay all the pain and neglect Harry's relatives had bestowed upon him over the years, but there was also heartbreak that he had never felt like someone could love him the way his parents would have. Her desire to comfort won out.
"Yes, they did. Just like Mum and Dad love you," she said gently, rubbing his arm. When his only response was a sad smile that let her know he didn't truly believe her, she continued earnestly, "Honest, Harry. Mum has had her brother Fabian's watch set aside for your seventeenth birthday for years now. There aren't many family heirlooms to be had in the Weasley family. That should tell you something."
He looked surprised. She knew he understood the right of passage that receiving a watch was for a wizard's seventeenth, as they had all been together when Fred and George received theirs at the Gryffindor table during breakfast the year before last. He didn't say anything more, but the doubt cleared from his expression.
"I'm glad he had that with them, though. He had it so rough as a kid… and then he went to Azkaban and spent the last years of his life on the run…" Harry's voice was quiet and contemplative, as if his mind was actually on something else as he spoke. "He had more years than my parents did, but he didn't get to do anything with it. There are so many things he missed out on."
His gaze lingered on her, the intensity she saw ignited both nerves and desire in her. It should have been too soon for that kind of look. It had been less than a day officially, but it had really been so much longer. With hindsight, she could see that Harry had been looking at her differently for the last month, and at least part of her heart had belonged to him for years, whether she had always admitted it or not.
"Gin," he began, the weight in that single word telling her he had something serious to say. There was also a nervous excitement there that increased her own similar feelings.
It occurred to her that they had been gone longer than anticipated. She wasn't sure when the meeting was going to begin or how long Lupin would stay before running off again. "Later," she said, cutting him off with a kiss on the cheek. "Come on. Let's get that book and go find out how reliable a story-teller Sirius was."
Before she could fully pull away, he pulled her back to him, pressing his lips to hers. It wasn't tentative, nor overly enthusiastic, but there was a tenderness to it that was full of feeling. Ginny's heart raced with it.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The kitchen was quite crowded when they reentered it, Order members having arrived in their long absence. Ginny spotted Ron and Hermione at the end of the table, the former eating ravenously, and pulled Harry with her as she made her way over to them. She did her best to ignore some of the looks she was getting from the Order members that didn't know her personally.
Hernione's lips were pursed as she glared at those people, reassuring Ginny that they were not alone. Her friend wasted no words on greeting them, saying loudly, "You'd think after Rita Skeeter and nearly everything published by The Prophet over the last year, people would have learned not to trust the press."
Ginny couldn't contain her laugh at the abashed looks of the greatest offenders. "One would think," she said lightly, taking a seat. Warmth spread through her as Harry squeezed in next to her, threaded their fingers under the table. The exchange was not missed by Hermione, who smiled at the couple.
Ron, having finally swallowed, spoke up. "Idiots. The lot of them," he said, sending his own glare. His eyes flicked to Percy across the room, where he was in discussion with Bill and Fleur, though he said nothing about it. He looked back at her and Harry. "Mum said to eat quickly. We're about to be kicked out," he said in annoyance. "I suppose you two will be allowed to stay now?" There wasn't any bitterness, but rather excitement. "You'll tell us everything, right?"
"I'm not sure actually," Harry replied, looking around the room. "I didn't actually talk to Dumbledore. I was talking to Remus. Where did he go anyway?"
Hermione's voice was much quieter than before as she answered, "Tonks was dragging him off last I saw. They looked rather tense, actually."
Ginny bit her lip. She hoped that conversation was going well, for her friend's sake, but Lupin was a stubborn one. He seemed to sabotage his own happiness at every opportunity, not recognizing he wasn't just hurting himself. Still she hoped that maybe her words would have had an effect on him.
Harry looked disappointed, but accepting. He turned to her, "You talked to Dumbledore, right?"
She tilted her head. "Sort of. He didn't say much. Oh," she said, catching the headmaster's eye as he made his way over to them. "Look, he's headed this way now."
"Good morning," he greeted the group. "Hello, Harry. I'm sorry we didn't have a chance to speak this morning. I was rather in a rush to summon everyone for this impromptu meeting."
"It's fine, sir. I was distracted by Lupin," he looked a bit embarrassed to have completely ignore the headmaster in favor of his father's old friend. "It's been some time since I've seen him."
"That's quite alright, Harry. One can never spend too much time in good company, particularly in such uncertain times," he said, his demeanor both understanding and sad. Harry's expression clouded and Ginny squeezed his hand below the table. It was a lesson they had both learned too well. He continued, "Unfortunately, I must rob you of some of that time today. After speaking with the Minister this morning, I believe it would be best we seek out my friend Horace Slughorn today."
"Is that all you'll be needing us for today?" Ginny asked through narrowed eyes. She couldn't shake the feeling that he had been intentionally avoiding them. Hermione kicked her below the table and she softened the accusatory tone, tacking on, "Professor?"
Dumbledore looked at her levelly, but did not appear to be offended, only guarded. "I'm afraid so, Miss Black. If Horace does agree, and it is my belief that he will, I need to see to it that the paperwork reaches out Minister quickly. For now, our other activities shall have to wait."
The fact that Ginny was not expected to dig out her memories of Tom Riddle today was both a relief and frustrating. She was not eager to delve into those shadowed sections of her mind, but she was tired of waiting for answers as well.
"Further imposing upon you hardly seems fair," he continued regretfully, "but I must insist that you two prepare for our meeting by dressing in your formal attire." He sighed, "Unfortunately, Horace is a man easily swayed by appearances." He glanced down at Ginny's ring finger. "Proper representation of your betrothal will be necessary."
She cringed. Walburga's ring. Wearing it had gotten easier as the magic leveled out, but it still made her skin crawl.
The whoosh of the floo sounded and spared her from having to respond as it drew Dumbledore's attention. She couldn't see who had arrived from her vantage point, but Dumbledore took it as a sign and straightened to attention. It was bizarre to watch him transition from wise old man to leader of the light.
"Best be off children," he said without looking at them. "Spare Molly the stress of having to track you down. She has been imposed upon enough with all this."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The four of them left quickly after the clear dismissal. After extricating a promise from Harry to tell them everything upon his return, Ron and Hermione parted ways from the other couple. The two walked rather close together, grazing hands as their arms moved, Ginny noticed with amusement as they walked through the door to the library.
Her mirth faded by the time she and Harry reached the fourth floor. Harry gathered his nicer clothing and left to change in the bathroom while Ginny readied herself in their room. She dressed quickly, but hesitated when it came time to switch the Black ring she wore.
For several minutes, she argued with herself. Dumbledore insisted. It rankled that he thought he could make demands. That he thought she would compromise for the petty opinion of some man she'd never met.
His opinion mattered, though. They needed to know what he knew. Harry needed the information. Dumbledore hadn't been able to convince him on his own, yet he thought they could. If he thought it was best... could she really let pride or fear jeopardize everything?
She was still standing in front of the desk eyeing Walburga's ring with frustration when Harry returned. "You alright, Gin? I knocked, but you didn't answer."
"Yeah," she said quickly, picking up the ring. Still, she didn't put it on. Harry noticed.
"You shouldn't wear that," he said, disgust in his gaze as he looked at it.
She sighed. "Yes. I should," she said in defeat, but the ring stayed firmly in her unmoving right hand.
She stared down at her fist, trying to will herself to just do it and get it over with, but her entire being rejected the idea on so many levels. Harry's hand closed over hers at the first sign of movement. Her eyes shot to his.
"Don't," he said heavily. "You don't want to, Gin, and I don't want you to either."
His earnest expression, the gentle way he held her hand, and overall concern for her feelings blunted her reservations. This was for Harry. She loved him, how much and if that extended to in love didn't matter right now. You made sacrifices for the people you loved.
"I do," she said more confident in the idea than the actual prospect. She wanted to help him, even if it was unpleasant. "It's important."
"No, it's not," he said firmly.
Her resolve, tenuous as it already was, wavered. Why was he making this harder? Frustration boiled over. "It's matters to other people," she snapped.
"That ring is just a symbol of pure blood nonsense. You don't care about any of that and neither do I," he insisted, pulling his hand back from hers. The lack of warmth intensified the regret she felt the moment her last words had left her mouth. "It doesn't matter, but this does," he said, reaching into his pocket.
Ginny's heart seemed to stop altogether before beginning to race wildly at the sight of Euphemia's ring in his hand. Her startled gaze flew to his clear one. His expression was honest and resolute.
"That ring doesn't mean anything," he repeated. "This one does, though. My grandmother's ring is mine, by right and by choice. No one can insist I do anything with it but what I want…" he drew in a breath and let it out slowly, the confidence in his posture slipping slightly as vulnerability took its place, "and I want you to wear it, because it means something to me."
Her eyes fell back down to the ring, the blue and white reflected the red and gold of the room, a smaller rainbow of colors glinting as Harry's hand shook slightly. It was beautiful, but the pang of longing she felt was unrelated to that beauty. It was special - it mattered, as he said, and should only be given in such circumstances - and she needed to be sure before she could even consider it.
"Harry…" she tried. She wasn't sure how to articulate the doubt she held. He said it meant something, that he wanted her to wear it, but she knew he wouldn't be saying this if the circumstances were different. "It's lovely and I would love to wear it. Someday," she clarified, feeling terrible as a shadow passed over his expression. She continued, "because it was your choice, and not because you were trying to make things easier for me."
His hand went to his hair, pulling the ends of it as he brushed it aggressively. "I'm not saying this right," he said looking frustrated. Shaking himself out first, he turned back to her looking determined. He took her hand again, straightening her fingers and taking the Black ring from her. He placed it on the desk before taking her hand again. His thumb lingering where the ring would sit.
Despite his apparent determination, his words were still disjointed. "Okay… it's - I wanted to talk to you about this earlier, but then you said we should go, and I just thought I should wait until we had more time." He paused and collected himself, sounding more sure when he continued. "This is my choice, Gin. That's the point. This... it's about us, and me and not just going along with what's expected of us… we're choosing to actually be together because we want to, not just because we're supposed to." His hand gripped hers more firmly. "I don't care if it's not proper or fit for all those customs Sirius told us about. This isn't meant for anything or anyone else... it's just me choosing you, and you choosing me. If you want."
Warmth unfurled in her chest at his honest, heartfelt explanation. They weren't a normal couple - she had been the one to point that out last night - and their odd circumstances would always influence their relationship to some extent. She had no doubt that there would be more things they were unable to control happening to them, but there were also choices they could make that would make the life they were living their own. This was one of them.
"Yes," she said, watching the light of happiness bloom in him. "I'll always choose you. Always."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Dumbledore was once more waiting for them when they entered the room. He missed nothing - his eyes immediately zoning in on Euphemia Potter's ring on her finger - but rather than commenting, he smiled. After all the grief Ginny had given him, it was somewhat of a surprise. He was certainly always kind to her, but the genuine happiness the sight brought him was still unexpected.
"Hello, again," he said kindly, once more the gentle Headmaster she had always thought of him as. "I have already spoken to Mrs. Weasley and cleared our venture with her, but thought perhaps a conversation was in order before we venture out in search of our new professor," he explained pleasantly. "I had informed you that next time we met, I would be collecting what memories you had that may be relevant to Tom Riddle, but that will not be possible today."
"When will it be possible? We've hardly seen you at all, despite how important you say this is," she countered. Not only was she ready to know what it was that he knew, but stressing over having to dig into those memories at an unknown future point was eating at her nerves. Perhaps if she knew when, she would feel better about it.
He thought it over silently, though she saw his eyes drift to Harry before looking back at her. "Two days from now, the first of August, should be possible, if that is agreeable to you both."
She and Harry shared a look, silently asking the other before giving their own consent. As far as she was concerned, this was the best she could hope for, probably even better than her original plan. She did not think it would be easy to relive those moments and waking Harry with nightmares the night before his birthday was not ideal, nor was thinking of those horrors on his birthday.
"That's acceptable," Ginny replied, having seen the agreement in Harry's eyes.
"Excellent."
"What exactly do we need to do, Professor?" Harry asked next.
"I believe a simple conversation will suffice," Dumbledore said. "Horace will be drawn to your status well enough. If he is pushed, however, his fear may override his indulgence. For now, it is best not to mention what we're truly after."
"That's easy enough," Harry agreed quickly.
Ginny nodded, but privately held compunctions. What good were they doing playing the slow game? By his own admission, Dumbledore had wasted years slowly trying to gather information. Tom was back now, though, and the stakes were much higher. Wasting any time seemed foolish beyond measure to her. She held her tongue, however, and they departed shortly thereafter.
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The home they separated closest to was a well-maintained, plain, Muggle dwelling. It was entirely unremarkable, except for the fact that the door stood slightly ajar. Dumbledore gestured for them to stand back as he approached, though he did not look truly worried. After cautiously peeking into the entryway, he waved them forward and lead the way into a living room that looked like it had witnessed a battle.
Pillow and cushions from the couch were torn, puffy feathers and pieces of fabric strewn about. Frames and glass from fallen pictures of a still smiling family has left a dusting of broken glass and splinters across the floor that crunched beneath Ginny's feet as she walked further into the room. There was even a splatter of blood trailing up the far wall from the floor all the way to the ceiling. Both Ginny and Harry stopped at the sight of it, while Dumbledore approached it. He dipped a finger in it, rubbing it between the thumb and index finger of his good hand. As Ginny stared, it struck her that there was something off about it. The deep red liquid shined unnatural in the light as Dumbledore raised it to his nose and sniffed…
"It's dragon's blood," she said suddenly, having seen enough of the stuff thanks to Charlie. Harry turned to her, but Dumbledore nodded without looking at her.
"It is, Miss Black, which tells us that the man we seek is still here… somewhere." They walked into the next room, a smaller sitting room, which appeared to be in an even worse condition. Without warning, he turned and prodded a large, overturned armchair with a jab of his wand.
The stuffed chair jumped and Ginny heard a man's voice exclaim, "Ouch!" The chair quickly morphed into a large, stuffed-looking man. "Merlin's Beard, Albus! Was that entirely necessary?"
"Well, good day to you, Horace," Dumbledore said pleasantly. "Quite a convincing set-up, if I may so compliment."
"It was," the man - Horace Slughorn, apparently - said, sounding both proud and wistful. "Ah, well. Perhaps I will have better luck next time. What gave it away?"
"No Dark Mark," Dumbledore explained. "Had the Death Eaters truly been here and succeeded, they would not have let the opportunity to let it be known pass."
"Right. Knew I was forgetting something," he responded unperturbed. "It's no matter now. Care to help me return everything to rights?"
Dumbledore agreed, waving his wand in time with his friend, and the room swirled around them. The pillow, cushions, frames and glass are knitted back together by magic and went to their proper homes while Harry and Ginny watched, narrowly avoiding being hit by some of the debris.
It was as Slughorn was surveying the restoration of the room that he first caught sight of them. His stunned surprised quickly morphed into an expression of delight as his eyes lingered on Harry. Ginny bristled at the glint of greed in his eyes.
"Harry Potter!" he exclaimed in an undignified manner.
"Yes, sir," Harry said politely. He even extended his hand which the man shook eagerly. "You must be Mr. Slughorn. Professor Dumbledore told me a lot about you."
"Really?" Slughorn questioned skeptically. "Interesting. Of course, you needed no introduction. Even had you not been famous, I would recognize Lily Evans' eyes anywhere." He was still shaking Harry's hand, who now looked uncomfortable.
Dumbledore coughed, breaking the man's fixation on Harry and drawing Slughorn's attention to himself. Harry quickly stepped back, close to Ginny's side. Dumbledore used the opportunity to gesture to Ginny. "And this is Ginevra Black."
His attention turned to her now. She didn't offer her hand, choosing to stay close to Harry. Still, she smiled and said, "Nice to meet you, sir." He ignored the greeting, choosing to assess her instead.
"Yes, I had seen the papers this morning," he said measuredly. "Quite ambitious, it seems. Perhaps you're well-suited to the Black name." His tone held no judgement, but his gaze weighing her in an uncomfortable way. Ginny scowled and Harry tensed beside her. She let him continue, however, not truly caring what the man thought of her. He continued without acknowledging either of their reactions. "I can't speak for the nature of Sirius Black, but his brother Regulus was a student of mine and quite ambitious himself. It is a shame that I never did get to know his elder brother, I would have quite l liked to have had that set."
That was enough to set her off, however. Her control finally snapped and her tone was vicious as she responded, "Sirius Black was a man, a good one at that. He was not a trophy to be collected," she said, staring daggers at the round man. "None of us are."
Harry pulled her attention away from Slughorn, a rather lucky thing for the man as her wand had found its way into her clenched hand without her awareness. The intense look on Harry's face gave her the impression that he wanted to kiss her and she felt the feeling spread to her. It was far from the right time, however, and she could tell he was settling when he ran a hand through her hair, twirling the tresses around his fingers as he reached the end. It was an action he had taken to repeating often as of late. The simple action sent a now familiar sensation through her, and she closed her eyes instinctively, immersing herself in the comfort it brought. When she opened her eyes once more, she felt settled again. He recognized that she was better without word or gesture, and they turned their attention back to Slughorn as one.
Ginny was startled to see the far away look in his eyes. He seemed to have frozen in his spot, hand still raised in some forgotten gesture as he stared. She and Harry shared a confused look that said neither of them had a clue what was going on. Ginny glanced at Dumbledore, surprised to see that he was not confused, but rather amused. Underneath the amusement, however, she thought she saw a mixture of nostalgia and triumph.
"Is everything alright, Horace?" Dumbledore asked, his voice offering no clues into what he was truly thinking. It did serve to break Slughorn from his reverie.
The man let out a cough and shook his head. "Yes. Yes. Fine." He looked at Ginny and Harry more closely this time, his eyes searching. "Perhaps I spoke too quickly, earlier. For a moment, I was certain I was looking at Lily and James once more."
Ginny shared an incredulous look with Harry. They'd spent countless hours looking at pictures of his parents, and aside from the color of her hair falling under the same category, she looked nothing like Lily Potter. Harry looked like a clone of his father, of course, but he had yet to reach the height James had acquired by the time he and Lily had begun dating.
Slughorn understood the confusion. "No, not in your looks, but certainly in your behavior. I couldn't tell you how many times I witnessed James lavish Lily with attention in the same exact manner. He used to twist the ends of her hair just like that…" he trailed off, clearly lost in memories. "Lily Evans was a favorite of mine, you know. James never much cared to be involved in my little club - though he certainly had the talent - but that changed when they became involved. It was a very rare thing that I saw her without him tagging along by the end." The misty cloud in his eyes cleared, and he chuckled a bit to himself, "Though I must say, that temper of yours Miss Black could have rivaled Lily's for certain." She remembered what Harry had told her of witnessing Lily confront James over her treatment of Snape. "She always used it well, though. Her kindness and passion was unrivaled by anyone I've ever met in my years."
Ginny knew she wasn't supposed to push - Dumbledore had specifically said they weren't after the memory itself today - but she was tired of waiting. "Fine way to repay the memory of your favorite student, don't you think?" she baited. "Hiding. Lying. Trying to save your own skin while her son fights for his life over and over against her killer." Her anger had made her blunt.
"Miss Black - " Dumbledore interjected while Harry placed a hand on her arm. She ignored them both.
Plowing on, she stared Slughorn down firmly. "You could be helping, could be teaching students and helping them protect themselves. You could be honest and give Dumbledore the truth. Instead you're covering your own ass and letting them win."
Slughorn pulled back, a sick look on his face that he tried to pass as derision. "Lily, forgive me. Your temper is not like hers. She was always composed, always speaking in the defense of others. She never resorted to unjust provocation such as your own behavior."
"I am defending others," she insisted. "If you don't like what I have to say, perhaps you should reevaluate your own behavior."
Slughorn turned to Dumbledore. "Really, Albus? You expect this sort of treatment to persuade me to agree to your terms?" His chins wobbled as he shook his bloated head, Ginny noticed in disgust. "We're done here. You can see yourselves out."
Dumbledore gave Ginny a disappointed look and sighed wearily. His tone was laden with disappointment as he responded, "As you wish, Horace."
Harry spoke up then, his voice soft but sure. "She has a point, you know." His gaze, firmly on Slughorn, held neither judgement nor contempt, only an honesty that was impossible to ignore. "What do you really hope to gain by all this?" He waved a hand to indicate the room that clearly belonged to Muggles. "If you thought they'd ever leave you alone, you wouldn't be doing all this right now. You already know that you're not safe. But you could be, if I can figure out how to stop him." His stance had gained strength as he spoke, showing off the side to him that ran the D.A. He was showing Slughorn the version of him that was a leader, the one that inspired people to stand up and fight for what they believed in. Ginny felt pride swell within her. "I'm going to put an end to Tom Riddle or die trying. You telling us the truth about what you know may mean the difference between the two."
Her heart was in her throat at the thought of Tom killing Harry, but she hid the anxiety by slipping her hand into Harry's and staring Slughorn down. She would see to it that the man caved, no matter what it took. Perhaps that resolution should have alarmed her, but all she could feel was purpose settle into her bones as they presented a united front against this obstacle.
Slughorn looked torn at the decision before him. He surveyed the room, avoiding their gaze, but it was obvious that he was weighing his options.
Dumbledore pressed the advantages. "I can have you safely behind Hogwarts' defenses within the hour, Horace. You will find no safer place than there."
Slughorn eyed the headmaster apprehensively. "And the cost? When will that come due?"
Dumbledore nodded gravely. "I will require the memory, Horace - the true memory - but we will secure your safety first." At Slughorn's hesitant nod - barely just the slight dip of his chin - Dumbledore continued, "In that case, I shall escort Harry and Ginny back to their home while you ready yourself. When I return, we will go to Hogwarts and once and complete the paperwork the Minister has requested." He looked at his watch. "Shall we say, five minutes or so?"
Still looking unsure, Slughorn agreed. "You have five minutes," he said with feigned bravado. "I will not wait for you beyond that."
"Of course," Dumbledore replied graciously. He turned to them. "It seems we are on a deadline now. Best be off."
Ginny turned to the repulsive man. She made no apologies, but still offered, "Thank you, Professor. We appreciate your willingness to help."
The man narrowed his eyes at her, but that was the best she could honestly do. "Right," he said unhappily.
"We mean it. Thank you," Harry said with a sincerity that softened the man.
He looked sad and broken as he replied. "I am sorry, young man… I didn't know… I made a terrible error that day… just don't think too badly of me once you've seen it."
Ginny's angered faded as the man lost all his bluster and began mumbling his regrets. More gently than she would have thought herself capable only moments ago, she said, "We understand, sir." She glanced at Dumbledore briefly as she added, "The Tom Riddle you knew was bright, charming, and capable of fooling almost anyone. If he weren't, he never would have made it as far as he did."
"An accurate description, Miss Black," Dumbledore agreed. "For now, I think that is enough discussion. We really must be moving along. There is much to be done and our time is limited."