Chapter One: There and Back Again (all titles are working names)
Carriages moved far too slowly for his liking. He spared a quick glance in front of him before looking out the window once more. He'd rather mindlessly stare at the dull farmland that peppered the road to Hogwarts. The company didn't make things any better.
Severus Snape sat opposite him, one hand holding open a book, the other wrapped around his wand and resting in his lap. Clad in his crisp black robes and liturgical vestments, Harry thought the man looked distinct handsome up until his neck. Snape had one of the most unpleasant faces he'd ever seen.
Harry whispered a prayer to make the journey go faster.
"Indulging in prayer these days, are we Mr. Potter," Snape muttered, never looking up from his book.
Harry wrinkled his nose in displeasure. He'd always thought that Snape's voice was exceptionally grating. He could scarcely imagine a worse noise. If anyone ever wanted to torture him, they could play Snape's sermons on repeat.
He didn't want to respond, but he also didn't want to let Snape have the last word, "Ginny taught me a few over the summer, Professor".
Snape's face grew even more unpleasant, contorting in strange ways that made the bile churn in Harry's stomach. The lie was sure to annoy him, and if nothing else that alone gave Harry immeasurable waited for the biting reply, but it never came. This only served to annoy Harry more. Taking the high road right after acting like a kid, he could hardly imagine a more Snape thing to do.
He flicked his eyes over to Snape's book. '*Mysteries of Syria Palaestina*' read the spine. He'd laugh, if doing so wouldn't provoke Snape into a conversation. He wanted nothing more than to get away from this man. But, he'd brought this upon himself.
His eyes glazed over as he reached within him. Harry felt his magic pulsating, like a rhythm playing his senses. Tiny oscillations of magic spread out from his fingertips, deep into the wood grain of the carriage seats. The seals on the carriage came alive. Wards, curses, charms... He winced inwardly at a particularly gruesome curse that only Snape could have thought up, and unconsciously moved his hand to shield his groin.
He really had brought this upon himself. And these weren't any two-bit enchantments either. Harry had periodically been inspecting them throughout the journey. They'd shown no signs of weakening, even as he'd slowly tried to pull them apart bit by bit. He brushed his fingers over the first layer, desperately hoping to find some crack in the surface by now.
He blinked as he let his magic subside, pulling his fingers away from the wood and moved to massage his thigh. It didn't matter really. He was in no shape to try and pull off an escape. He was thankful he could still walk after his epic battle with Dumbledore, but none of the headmaster's attacks but his finisher had been easy to recover from. The lance of lava had nearly blown a hole the size of a bowling ball in his hip.
And then there was the real problem. His eyes flickered over to Snape, who lay immersed in his book. Harry had no desire to start a fight he knew he couldn't win. Not without an ace up his sleeve. Harry's eyes narrowed, he wasn't going to give Snape an excuse to throw Harry on the Hogwarts lawn, four black keys sticking out of him like he was a pincushion. He remembered the feeling of being bound with red sacramental cloth. If they'd fight right now, the bastard wouldn't even have to use magic. Inwardly, he cursed Dumbledore. He could have sent anyone to watch him to Hogwarts, anyone but this man.
It was Snape who broke their silence, "I have been instructed to inform you, Mr. Potter, that upon your return you are to see Professor McGonagall before retiring to the dormitories".
Harry winced as Snape continued to talk, his voice somehow reminding him of limes rotting in the sun. Harry wondered how anyone could enter God's service after being cursed with a voice like that.
"What for, Professor?" he replied, not once looking away from the wheat fields outside. They weren't too far from Hogsmeade now.
"I imagine that you will be made aware of this," he paused, smacking his lips loudly and making Harry cringe,"upon your meeting with Professor McGonagall".
Harry refused to let him win, "If it's just to retrieve my timetable, I can go and get it in the morning. I'm rather tired, and the journey's been-"
Snape shut his book with a thunk, and Harry trailed off.
His eyes turned towards Harry, who met them unflinchingly. Pitch black eyes with no discernible pupils tore into him. Harry felt the burning abyss within Snape's eyes, a writhing fire so profane even light refused to meet it. He'd seen these eyes once before, closer than now even, their noses practically touching then. The scar on his left arm itched. His magic tugged at him, desperate to burn emerald eyes into mystic ones and show Snape what a real illusion looked like, occlumency be damned.
Harry broke the subtle illusion without any difficulty, but it was Snape who spoke, "Sloppy Potter. Did you do anything except laze about this summer".
Harry resisted the urge to flare his nostrils, but enjoyed the edge in Snape's voice. He wondered if Snape and the others had been punished for losing track of him, "Sorry Professor, do you think I could have another try? I'm certain I'll do better".
If looks could spit, Harry would have been drenched. Snake returned to his book, "I have informed you that you are to seek out Professor McGonagall before making your way to the dormitories. Understood?"
Harry longed for the day that he could cuss Snape out, but before he could say a word, the carriage came to a stop with a sudden thunk. Snape, who Harry realized had timed his comeback with their arrival, clasped his book shut and leaned back, as Harry nearly lost his balance and fell from his seat. Catching himself just before he'd have slipped off, he forced his occlumency to the forefront to hide the embarrassment from his face.
Snape stood before Harry, and immediately made his way for the left exit. Harry, pulling his wand out, made to follow him from the other side. He let out a sigh of relief as the handle turned, and he stepped out onto the Hogsmeade countryside. Hours stuck in that cart with nobody but Snape had done terrible things to his mind.
As he stretched and enjoyed the familiar air, Snape spoke up behind him, "Upon this moment you are no longer my responsibility Potter. I trust that you will have the sense to refrain from any of your shenanigans within the bounded field".
Harry didn't bother responding, continuing to stretch and release the tension from his aching limbs.
He heard a grunt of disgust behind him, and footsteps as Snape turned away from the direction of the castle, "I have business to attend to. See to it that you don't get lost on the way to the castle".
Harry didn't bother turning around this time either. Whatever Snape was up to in Hogsmeade wasn't of any interest to him. As he walked on the trail towards the castle, he thought that whatever Snape was occupying his free time with would, at the very most, make him feel sad for his miserable existence.
Harry closed his eyes as he walk, and thanked God for the clean and fresh air. After spending hours with Snape and the stench of dead flesh confined to a single carriage, the Hogwarts air tasted even better than he remembered. He tried not to focus on the fact that he probably didn't smell too great either after the summer.
Letting out a pulse of magic, Harry felt the land around him come alive. One of the first things any real wizard learns is to see without their eyes and hear without their ears. Magic was a six sense unto its own that could replace all others. Tiny pulses painted a series of pictures of the trail to Hogwarts. He tried not to think on the familiar and nostalgic places he passed by. In such little time, so much had changed. His cheeks felt wet for some reason, as he walked in his trance. The land here was strong, bursting with magic from the many ages of wizards it had seen. He felt little goosebumps on his skin as the earth below slowly sent more and more magic up to him.
He couldn't feel the wind in his hair or the dampness under his eyes anymore. There was only his magic and the magic of the world. His feet gave way under him, but he continued to walk. He couldn't even feel which way he was facing. Soon, even the heat of the sun began to recede. Little pulses of magic raced up from the world and into him, and he came to a sudden stop, having walked the entire way in what felt like a moment.
Tears dripped down his cheeks as he lay his eye on the Majestic castle once more. He'd hoped to avoid feeling like this. He'd hoped to just focus on his magic as he made the walk. But, just as before, Harry had underestimated Hogwarts. He sighed, and wiped his cheeks dry with the hem of his robes.
As he made his way to the majestic castle, he did everything in his power to not actually look at the castle. The wards passed over him like a thick sludge, and Harry found the feeling distinctly unpleasant. He was protected of course, but after spending so long in the wild world, jumping from country to country, he'd developed an acute sense of just when he was under the influence of foreign magic. His brow furrowed. He couldn't stay, it was impossible. Not after he'd-
He shook his head. He'd spent three months away from the Order's grasp and he thought he was ready to take on the world. Three months and could feel the Hogwarts wards over his skin like an oil slick. He tried to busy himself with the walk, eyeing the great squid as it lazily breached the surface to enjoy the last rays of the sun. He soon came upon the trail that led to the Great Hall.
He eyed it warily, he could see students at the edges of the castle gates, enjoying the gardens and their free time before dinner. He considered going down to the Great Hall, ducking his pointing peers who'd surely make a commotion given his late arrival. Then going up to Professor McGonagall's office, saying hello and goodbye to every acquantice who passed him by and rebuffing every friend he'd ignored over the summer to talk later. McGonagall would probably be having office hours right now too, so he'd get the immense pleasure of having a class full of firsties make an exhibit out of him.
Harry snorted. Mystic eyes came alive.
He identified his target instantly. Maybe it was because of how intimately he knew her, but Harry genuinely thought he'd never seen anyone with more beautiful magic. Even in a castle full of thousands, hundreds of feet away, he'd be able to spot her. He'd said that to her once, only to get a smack and a 'stop flattering me when I'm mad' in response. He smiled, more than a touch of nervousness wracking his body. He was thankful to Dumbledore for his lie.
Harry began to head towards the castle, stepping off the trail and onto the gardens. The weeping willow moaned noisily behind him, but he paid it no mind. His eyes still burning as he approximated the distance to the castle. He wondered when he'd suddenly become excited to be back. Was it when he saw her magic, or when Hogwarts had refused to let him close his eyes?
He licked his lips in anticipation, and his wand began to blur.
A series of illusion charms hid his form as he rocketed into the sky. Even for a dark magus such as him, the air around Hogwarts was magnificent. As he barrelled into the heavens, the wind burst into his lungs and he took a deep breath of the magic omnipresent in the air. Far above the majestic castle, he focused his gaze on Gryffindor Tower. It was impossible not to be excited to come to Hogwarts, he decided. Something deep in the castle itself brought sanctuary to the souls of all those who laid their eyes upon it.
He began to fly towards his target. Invisible as he was nobody could see him approach, but he still left a trail of water vapour and mist behind him. Slowly, he moved into position and began to circle above the tower. His mystic eyes came alive once more as he noted her current position with annoyance. It was very much typical of her to be in the most inconvenient place to get to. He chuckled.
"Best not make that joke in front of her," he muttered.
He moved down towards the tower, avoiding the side that contained the female dorms entirely. He and Ron had learnt in their second year, during a quidditch pickup game that had turned into something else, that the windows on the girl's side of the dorms were charmed to burn terrible images into the minds of boys clever enough to try and take a peek. He had no intention of repeating that mistake and having to explain why his first act upon coming to Hogwarts was going girl watching.
Coming up just below the lowest windowsill in the common room, Harry flicked his wand as he crouched. Dispelling his flight, his legs returned just as he conjured an invisible platform under him. With his back to the tower, and his head just under the window, Harry chanced a glance and craned his neck upwards into the common room.
And immediately brought it back cursing down. Was there some kind of party going on in the dorms! He almost cussed out loud, did he arrive on the eve of a quidditch win or something? Leaning up to window once more, Harry took note of just how many people were present. Harry counted Ron among them, chatting up one of his quidditch teammates, the pretty one he absently noted. Oliver, Fred, George and Lee all playing gobstones in the corner. Cursing his luck, he thought his plan over.
Leaning back down, he realized that the situation wasn't as bad as it looked. In fact, it may even have worked to his advantage. Harry moved away from the window, conjuring invisible platforms as he carefully made his way over to the other side of the tower. His breath hitched in his throat as he stepped closer and closer to the window that led to the girls lavatories.
As he stopped just below the window, Harry nearly slapped himself. If he was caught doing this... Earlier the plan had been low-risk, high-reward, with the only downside being that he'd piss off McGonagall. Now though he was going to be messing with the ancient protections of Hogwarts castle, breaking and entering Gryffindor Tower while an entire crowd was gathered in the common room. He swallowed. If Dumbledore caught him, or if he messed up and fell, how was he going to explain his.
Behind him through the window, he heard a cough. His resolve hardened. Magic eyes burning, he turned and forced himself to look through the brick of the tower and into the bathroom. There she stood. Her red hair, this close to Harry, came alive under his eyes like writhing flames from the most beautiful star in the heavens. His throat felt enormously dry.
It was now or never. He dispelled his invisibility, and with a grunt he lifted himself upwards forcing magic eyes to look through the window. He saw nothing but black, and his eyes began to burn. His wand was already moving, and incantations burnt in mind like verses memorized long ago. Normally any student looking through the glass would see terrible images of bathing trolls, but no illusions worked on a bearer of mystic eyes. The boundary field that prevented him from interacting with the inside was still in full force.
Harry roared, uncaring of who would hear him. His wand sputtered sparks as he jabbed his spells into the woven tapestry of Hogwarts' magic. His wand shook violently in his hand as he moved to stabilize it with his other hand. These spells were delicate, Harry abruptly realized, and his own procedure was anything but.
With a start he cancelled the spell, pulling back his wand and breaking the chain. His eyes cancelled out and he nearly sent his wand plummeting to earth when he lost his grip. Shaking his head, Harry steadied himself.
He looked at the window, his yell would have surely-
It sat silent, reflecting the sunlight, the glare alone stopping him from looking inside. He blinked. He should have seen scenes of bathing beasts or pure darkness, but if he could see inside...
Harry reached out his hand gingerly, unclasping the lock on the windows. The fell open inwards with a slow creak. Harry's heart thumped loudly in his chest. He hadn't thought that it would have worked. Now that he was on the precipice, he realized just how unprepared he was. He chanced a look inside. He nearly screamed her name the moment he saw her.
She was turned towards the sink, her hands and eyes focused on what was within. Ginny was dressed in her beautiful church robes, black as the blackest night. Harry had bought them for her when she'd been ordained. The finest robes church vestments money could buy, stitched from the fur of a Nyx and blessed and dyed in the black blood of a saint. Most deacons couldn't boast of owning such a robe. He'd had them made bespoke, and privately had the tailor charm them to always hug her figure.
And speaking of that figure; he hopped through the open window and into the bathroom, silent as a ghost. He'd stopped caring about how he'd managed to open the window the moment he'd seen her hair. He was transfixed as he continued washing whatever she was washing in the sink. Harry's mind went wild, thinking of all the ways to surprise her. An explosion would have been perfect, but it'd have also alerted everyone else he was hair. He settled on something even better.
He felt giddy, like a little kid who was about to watch his favourite once-a-week show. Magic was practically radiating off him, but he kept under tight control. He'd not let a stray giggle spoil this moment.
He reached out, his speed greatly enhanced by the magic flowing off him. His fingers moved faster than he'd thought possible, digging into soft and silken red hair. He savoured the instant, before forming a fist and pulling back gently.
Harry winced as he realized he had a different definition of gentle than most people. Ginny cried out in shock and fell backwards, her hands flailing all over the place as she splashed water and flung a wet cloth into the air. Harry's other hand moved behind her knees. With a sharp, and this time far gentler, jab Harry bent her knees and left her fall back. His arms came up to catch up at the last moment. He knelt, cradling Ginny's shrieking form in his arms.
Ginny froze the moment she saw him. Brown eyes stared into green. Both of them said nothing. Ginny's hands slowly moved to her breast, one clutching the wet cloth she had been washing so fervently. Harry suddenly realized that it was her church coif. She stared up at him, her mouth frozen in a silent 'oh'. Harry only smirked. A single brow slightly raised as he held her.
'Im so fucking cool', Harry thought as he held her. He'd pulled this off perfectly.
The moment stretched on, as she lay in his arms. Then, with a hint of sadness, Harry took her empty hand and began to pull her upwards.
She took it gingerly, standing up so close to him that she might as well have stayed in his arms. She didn't say anything, but leaned her head against him. Harry noted that he'd grown taller, Ginny only came up to his breast now. He felt a moist patch grow on his robes.
It was he who broke the silence, he couldn't let her cry after all, "There's no reason to cry".
His arms came up to hold her close, and she dug her head further into his chest.
It amazed him how little time it took for her relief to turn into anger. Her tears dried up immediately, and Harry felt the wet spot on his robes turn searing hot for a moment before Ginny violently pushed him with all her strength.
Which, he thought glibly, wasn't all that much. She'd never been a particularly strong girl, with her slender frame and pale skin, but the last year and a half had turned Harry into a particularly strong man. She threw them apart, and then lashed out at his face still holding her dripping coif.
Harry was faster though, much faster. His hand wrapped around her wrist moments before the coif would have slammed into his face. His other hand struck at a blinding speed, grabbing her by the waist and pulling her struggling form close. He craned his neck to whisper into her ear.
"Shh! You don't want everyone to barge in right now, do you?" his voice came out far stronger than he actually felt. He felt the fake confidence cover his face, a smirk following.
Ginny ceased struggling, but refused to meet his eyes. She looked away from his chest, her knuckles going white against the coif. Here wrist was shaking in Harry's grip. Harry resisted the urge to probe her mind with legilimency, but he didn't need magic to feel her anger.
"You're hurting me," her voice was dead and flat. She dropped her coif.
Harry winced as it splattered to the ground. Her words stung, but he let go of her arm all the same. As she made to move away, his other hand came up behind her to try and hold her in place. Finding a comfortable spot on her back her brought her towards his chest. But,her arms came up at the last moment above her breast, as if shielding her.
"Let me go Harry," her voice dripping with ice.
Harry merely raised an eyebrow in response, "And if I don't?"
She shrunk at his tone, but Ginny never would back down, "Then I'll scream".
Harry almost laughed, "Go ahead. Let me know when and I'll join in".
She went quiet at that, but as he felt her begin to shake he realized he may have pushed her too hard, and slowly released her. She stepped back, bending over to pick up her coif and turn away from him.
Harry crossed his arms. He'd expected this kind of response, but thinking and experiencing were two different things. He resisted the urge to reach out to her. To touch her hair and grab her shoulder.
Her wand appeared from her sleeve, and she cast a quick warming charm on her coif. Folding the now dry clothing and holding it in both hands.
Harry wondered why she'd even bothered washing it like a muggle, "There's some great spells for cleaning-"
She interrupted him with a snort, and turned around thrusting her hat at Harry as a form of response. Harry's eyes widened as he saw the large pink penis shaped stain that dominated the top.
"You have to wash it out. Or at least that's what Katie told me," her voice was quiet, but harder than Harry remembered it being.
The mirror directly behind Harry broke with an audible crack. A single long lesion running diagonally. Ginny didn't seem to notice.
Harry spoke, keeping his anger in check, "Who did this?"
Ginny's chocolate eyes flickered over to him. She didn't seem to want to look up to have to meet his eyes, "And why would I tell you?"
Harry held up both hands in a mock defeat, "Sorry, you know I didn't mean it like that".
His mind aching from the after effects of using legilimency, Harry grit his teeth, instead allowing his anger to anger to burrow deep within him. He had the perpetrators faces, and Harry would exact his vengeance.
His hand reached out and gently trying to take the coif from Ginny's grasp. She was being petulant by holding on to it but she let go in the end.
Harry brought up his wand, touching the tip to the hem of the cloth. His eyes glazed over as he whispered, "TRACE ON".
Orange light burnt from the point of contact, spreading through the coif like a ripple and lighting the lavatory like a lantern. It burnt into the old cloth, leaving nothing but pure white behind. Harry tested the cloth with his thumb once the light died. Perfectly cast. He gingerly handed it back to Ginny, who took it not ungratefully.
She took a whiff of the powerful sterile scent wafting up from the cloth and asked, "What did you do? Assyrian dye doesn't respond to magic".
Harry nodded, "I didn't know what it was. I just got rid of the old one and made a new one".
Ginny let her genuine admiration show, "So you did something over the summer at least. Ron can barely even conjure".
Harry flinched at the implied accusation, "Ginny, did Dumbledore-"
She cut him off by looking square into his eyes. Ginny didn't have mystic eyes, or any kind of oracular magic. Harry always thought she might undiscovered legilimens, but the power her eyes had was incredible. He shut his mouth right there and then, the moment she let him know that if he kept talking she'd turn his chump two dollar ass into change.
Ginny's tone physically hurt him, "Really Harry? Dumbledore had you locked up in a tower cell, unable to send a single letter? You couldn't have let us know that you were safe at least? Or where you were? Or what you were doing?"
Harry flinched with every question, "Gin, please-"
But he'd been the one to light this fire, and now it was time to suffer for his actions. Ginny refused to let him speak, "Don't you call me that. Don't you dare. Not after you just up and vanished last year. After what happened Harry? Really?"
Harry didn't have anything to say. He truly had no explanation. Her anger bit into him like a blizzard. He felt numb.
Ginny stepped up right to him, their noses could have been touching, "Every single day, I would pray. I would fucking pray that I'd get a single letter from you, that Ron might have a nice dream about you. I'd sit by the window and I'd pray that you were safe".
She dripped venom as she continued, "And what about you? Where the fuck were you? Did you even care about us, or did you go out of your way to hurt us?"
Harry's eyes burnt alive and anger came rising to the forefront. Mystic eyes stared Ginny down, "If I remember right, you were the one that said we were over".
He could have heard a pin drop in the silence that followed. Even the commotion from the common room seemed a thousand yards away.
Ginny had a look of incredulousness on her face, before a cool anger replaced it, "That's right Harry. We are over. And if I had any doubts about that before, you sure as killed them over the summer".
She turned to leave as his heart deflated. She always knew just what to say to make it burn. As she made for the common room, he was still for a moment. But just for a moment.
He was there, holding her arm again, before he realized he'd moved. This time, Harry saw the tears growing in her eyes. He resolved not to let her go. His grip tightening as he pulled her to face him.
Neither of them spoke, but Harry broke the silence, "You look so hot in that dress you know".
Ginny didn't reply, but Harry could see the outline of a suppressed smile break out on her face. He moved his hands to her waist and pulled her closer, moving to her back and bending down to bury his nose in her hair. Ginny made no move to resist, her hands clutching her coif as she subtly leaned into Harry.
"Really," Harry continued, his breath running down her cold neck, "You look so beautiful Gin..."
He trailed off, lost in the fiery scent of her hair. He didn't have an apt comparison for the smell, but he'd always told her he thought it was what Heaven must have smelled like.
Ginny seemed to mull her answer, her cheek pressed close against his chest, "You think so?"
Harry pulled back to plant a soft kiss on her forehead, "Don't ask silly questions. A good wizard never seeks knowledge he already possesses".
The last bit was said in what Harry considered to be a pitch perfect imitation of Snape, eliciting a soft giggle from Ginny.
At this tiny ounce of encouragement, he continued, "And besides, I had those robes made for you. You of all people should know how much I love it when you wear them".
His hands roamed up and down her back. Going lower as he noticed her shyly avert her eyes.
Ginny's lips came up to his neck, her hot breath pooling there as she spoke, "You like how soft they feel on me?"
As she arched her spine slightly backwards, Harry's attention on her renewed. His fingers traced patters all over the soft Nyx skin that covered her back. He moaned an affirmative to her question.
He felt Ginny mouth a silent 'oh' onto his neck, her voice piping up as he pulled her even closer, "And do you like how they fit on me?"
She wiggled her hips in his hands and Harry nodded maybe a little too fast. It had been so long since he had held Ginny like this that his mind was going a little haywire. His magic, tuned to respond to every situation, felt like static moving through his body. Every feel of Ginny clouded his mind further and further. His grip grew stronger.
It was then that a sharp pinch on his left nipple broke him out of his reverie. Harry yelped, both hands coming up in self defence and Ginny took the opportunity to take a step back. Harry covered his breast and nearly bent over. Damn it, was the woman trying to take his bloody nipple with her?
Ginny spoke before him, "Take a good look Harry, notice anything different?"
Her words cut into Harry like a hot knife through butter. Raw and unmitigated panic rose within him. Mystic eyes came alive as he analyzed every single detail of her face in real time. A second became a minute and a minute became an hour. All previous images of Ginny were closely compared and contrasted. The answer became clear just as his nipple started hurting again.
Harry huffed, "Ginny, if you think I didn't notice your new face cream, you're wrong. You also didn't have-"
When fire flooded her eyes Harry knew he'd made a terrible mistake, "No Harry. In case you didn't notice, these aren't the vestments you bought me".
Harry blinked, privately he realized how stupid he looked.
"I wore them the first time since summer when I came back for the welcoming feast, and I realized," she paused shoot him a glare, "that they were a little too tight".
Harry blinked again.
Ginny didn't seem to mind, continuing, "I wore Ron's cloak over them, but I had to take it off during the choir. And do you have any idea what I looked like standing up in there?"
Harry began, "Ginny, I didn't mean to-"
"Professor Snape pulled me aside after the feast, after everyone had already seen me, and told me that my clothing wouldn't be appropriate for clergy services in the future. He told me to have the robe refitted, or just buy a new one. He said I could wear any black robes so long as they didn't make me look like a Knockturn Alley harlot," she hadn't once raised her voice, but Harry'd have preferred it had she screamed.
She turned around and began to adjust her coif, "I have an exorcism to prepare for. Everyone decided get together and do a little welcoming feast for you since you missed the actual thing. I'd hoped to have missed you, but I guess I wasn't so lucky".
She spared him one glance, her hair riding up into the charmed coif and forming the church braids. Hidden black keys in her hair coming alive as hairpins, "Enjoy your party Harry".
She made for the door, and Harry found himself with nothing to say. But as she reached the door handle, he found his Gryffindor courage.
"Gin, I need to talk to you".
Her hand hovered above the handle, but her voice was softer now, "Go and meet everyone. Ron needs you, a lot more than I do these days. After that..."
She turned around to meet his eyes, and Harry resisted the impulse to use his mind magic to search her feelings.
"After that, I'll be in Saint Helena's chapel in preparation all night. You can stop by," her parting words were said as she moved into the hallway, closing the door behind her.
Harry stood alone in the women's washroom, his nipple aching painfully. He chanced a look at where Ginny was a moment ago, but then tore his eyes away to the wall. He would have to leave the bathroom and enter the common room via the windows. He couldn't very well be seen leaving the girls bathroom after all.
Sitting on the windowsill, Harry brought his ocular magic to life, mystic eyes giving him his second sight. Through the wall, he could see into the common room. Alica, Fred and George, Oliver and Angelica, Comrac, Jordan, Katie... Was there anyone who decided not to come?
Nearly turning his gaze away, Harry's attention snapped back as his eyes glimpsed an outline he had far from been expecting to see. His eyes widened as he sought focus over the image he was seeing. What was he doing here? More importantly, how did he even get in here. It was clear that no one else in the room had noticed him,.
Harry's heart sped up as a smile graced his lips. How very interesting. Why was Draco Malfoy hiding in the Gryffindor common room during Harry's surprise welcome?