Ginny was shaking so much as she Apparated away from Harry's that she was surprised she didn't splinch herself; although she had her destination firmly in mind, both her determination and deliberation were severely lacking. As it was she had to take several minutes outside the Fatted Calf pub to calm down and arrange her features in a sufficiently cheerful manner before she entered.
I'll tell everyone Harry wasn't feeling well - no, they'll wonder why I'm not at his flat taking care of him. Maybe a work emergency – except there'll probably be other Aurors here, they'll know that's not true. Hell, how am I going to explain that I'm alone?
Distracted by her musings, Ginny entered the pub and was halfway to the bar before she realized she hadn't brought any money with her. She also didn't see any of her teammates. Sighing to herself, she headed towards one of the rooms farther back to look for Evie and some of the others who hadn't gone to the ball.
Come off it, Ginny. Is this really where you want to be?
The voice in her head was clear, accusing, and sounded an awful lot like her brother Ron. He'd been easy to ignore in Harry's flat; Ginny had been too angry. But now, standing alone in the noisy pub, Ginny stopped short.
I should go back.
The fight between her and Harry was too big to ignore, too big for her to be able to sit and drink and joke and pretend everything was fine. It had probably been brewing for days now, ever since she'd goaded him into inviting her to the ball. Now she had a sick feeling in her stomach that nothing was going to be right between them ever again. Maybe she was overreacting, but something had changed tonight, and Ginny knew it was going to take more than a simple 'I'm sorry' from each of them to fix it.
Her body prickled with indecision as she looked farther into the pub. Another step forward, and she'd just stay. Maybe it would be better to let things cool off between them first. But she couldn't make her body move in that direction. If she stayed, she'd be no good at all to her friends, she knew. But the thought of going back and facing everything they had said to each other was terrifying, and she didn't know if she was ready.
So she stood in the middle of the pub, gnawing at the inside of her cheek as she tried to figure out what to do. The voice spoke again.
Come on, Ginny. You know you want to talk to him. Don't be an idiot.
"I'm not being an idiot," she said to the air. "I'm not."
Well then, go back and talk to him and apologize. Were you even listening to what he said?
Ginny had muttered "Shut up, Ron," before she realized she was talking out loud to herself. And the truth was, she hadn't really been paying attention to exactly what Harry was saying – she had been too busy listening for those bits that made her the most mad.
But now, with the random noise of the pub rising and falling around her and nothing to distract her, it was not so easy to ignore what he had probably meant.
She had been incredibly hurt down in the courtroom when he'd wanted to leave right after she had finished. All she had been able to think at that time was he doesn't want me. That stupid, leftover little girl insecurity was still there, even though she thought it had been banished about the time Harry had first kissed her in the common room.
You know Harry better than that. He wanted you. He was just being sweet and noble and unselfish.
Ginny sighed. It would be so like Harry to have been stewing all this time over the fact that she'd given him that blow job under his desk and he had not been able to return the favor. He probably saw it as only fair that he not get anything in return this time.
And what else had he said? That he'd enjoyed himself anyway, right?
This time, the voice sounded a lot more like her own. And before she could even snort with disbelief that Harry could actually have a good time simply because he was giving her pleasure, the voice continued.
You feel the same way about him.
It was true. Despite what she had yelled in anger, those moments under his desk, knowing what she was doing – what was going on above her – had been exciting and hot and erotic, and she had not cared in the slightest that Harry had not been able to take care of her afterwards. That's the way things were sometimes. It didn't have to always be even . . .
Shit.
Because that was exactly what he had said to her . . .
Even though no one was looking at her in the dark of the bar, Ginny flushed and sat down weakly at an empty table. The thought that maybe Harry had been sincere, that he really had wanted to take her back up to the ball and dance and mingle, wouldn't go away. She groaned and put her head in her hands, trying to think of something to make this all better. Because right now, she was feeling like she'd been a total bitch.
He didn't ask you to the ball right out. And he made all those comments about trainees.
Ginny sighed and tried to recapture some of the blinding anger she'd felt back at the ball and then at Harry's flat, but remembering Harry's comments only made her feel worse. She had been the one to bring up the cute trainees in the first place, and it wasn't like he had asked someone else to the ball, he'd just told her he was planning on doing what he always did – take no one and leave early.
Why didn't you just ask if he wanted to take you? Did you really think he'd appreciate being told to take someone else?
Ginny could see clearly now what a stupid thing that had been to say. Harry was so incredibly private – he had no interest in doing anything with any of the witches that seemed to be constantly throwing themselves at him. And here, Ginny had been offering to do the throwing for him! No wonder he'd been reluctant to ask her instead – it had probably looked like she didn't want to go with him.
I did want him to take me. But not because I wanted to have sex. I just wanted to be with him. I just wanted him to ask me because . . .
The truth was staring at her in the face and Ginny gave up trying to hide from it. Maybe the vial allowed her to ignore her old desires and memories, but there was no doubt that the new ones said the same thing: she was in love with Harry. Still. Or again.
Something was tickling at the edge of Ginny's brain. Bits and pieces of what Harry had said earlier were coming back to her. And without the haze of anger in front of them, their meaning suddenly seemed blindingly clear.
That's because it was one of the rules! . . . I've never done anything but tell you the truth . . . I've followed all the rules and given you your space and worked to make sure you've enjoyed yourself . . .
Given me my space? I thought I was giving him his space!
You have made it more than clear that you are not interested in anything with me that's not purely physical. Don't worry, I won't make that mistake again.
He thinks I'm not interested in anything with him except sex?
And just like that, Ginny's carefully constructed understanding of just what Harry wanted from her collapsed.
She'd let herself assume that he was only looking out for her because of a sense of duty, that she had to make it as easy for him as possible to be an Auror because that was what he wanted. It was why she had insisted that it was okay that they break up. Even then, it had hurt so much that she'd had to remove the best feelings and memories from their time together. The shadows that remained were more like a dull ache that she had learned to live with.
As long as Harry had what he wanted, Ginny was okay ignoring the creeping doubt in her own life. But what if she'd been wrong about him too?
Sitting there in the bar alone, Ginny let the memories – the new ones, wash over her.
How Harry looked at her when he covered her body with his to protect her, and the vulnerability on his face when she'd found him after he'd hit the tree on his broom. He'd flirted with her at the Burrow and then taken care of her when she'd needed it. He'd wanted to stay with her then, she realized. A word from her and he probably would have.
She recalled the panic in his voice when he came to her flat after the Cloak and Dagger exploded – panic reserved only for her – but not because she needed watching. He had always treated her as his equal, even though she wasn't an Auror. And she had made assumptions and twisted his concern into some misguided idea of duty. If it was true, if Harry felt the way Ginny suspected, he must have been incredibly hurt tonight. Her behavior had been nearly inexcusable. Yes, he'd been a prat right back to her, but now every look, every retort he'd given her had a very different meaning.
Why hadn't she been able to see that there might have been more?
Abruptly, Ginny stood up. Her musings could only take her so far and she was tired of trying to analyze everything alone. She needed to talk to Harry, face to face -to see if any of what she suspected was actually true. She was going to apologize to him, at the least. Even if he didn't want to talk to her about anything else, she owed him that much.
Ginny began threading her way through the crowd back to the front of the bar. She moved as quickly as possible, before she could change her mind.
"Ginny!" The voice, to her right, was loud and panicked enough to pull her out of her thoughts. She looked around. Gavin. She arranged her face back into its bland smile.
"Hi Gavin, how was the rest of the ball? Is your date here?"
"What are you doing here?" Gavin ignored her pleasantries. "You're supposed to be with . . . why aren't you with Harry? At his flat?"
"He's . . ." Ginny paused, her story not straight in her head. She shrugged. "I was just . . . meeting some of my teammates here instead. But I think I'm going to leave – to find Harry," she added quickly. If she said it out loud, she'd have to do it. She looked closer at Gavin. His eyes were darting around the bar and he seemed to tremble with nervous energy. At one point, his eyes rested on a small group of men in a booth before continuing their circuit.
"Is something wrong?"
Gavin looked at the booth again. "No . . . well, maybe. You shouldn't be here," he said hurriedly. Ginny noticed him wringing his hands and she stiffened. Something was going on.
"Gavin, what is it?"
Gavin looked back again and then seemed to relax. Ginny saw him nod to himself before he put one arm congenially around her shoulder. "It's nothing, Ginny, really. The Aurors think, I mean, we're just being our usual suspicious selves."
"Who else is here? Have you let anyone know?" Something felt off, but Ginny couldn't put her finger on it.
Gavin was still maneuvering her towards the front of the bar. "No need Ginny, really. I'm just investigating a couple of things - I'll take care of it. It's nothing," he said again. They had almost reached the front door.
"Gavin, I . . ." Ginny began, but he held up his hand and gave her a gentle shove in the direction of the door.
"Go home, Ginny. Hang out with Harry – he really could use a rest, you know? He works too hard. I'll be able to handle a couple of unruly customers here." His calm demeanor seemed to slip a little and he looked back into the pub again. "Really, you should go." He gave her a weak smile and disappeared rapidly through the crowd.
Ginny stood just inside the door of the pub, trying to figure out what felt off. No one had seemed out of control at the pub – it had been fairly calm, actually. What could Gavin be . . .
Without even completing her thought, Ginny had pushed her way to the front of the pub and pulled out her wand and said the spell to send a talking Patronus to Harry. She knew exactly what felt off and it chilled her. Talking as quietly and as quickly as she could, she looked at the shimmering stallion beside her.
Harry, come to the Fatted Calf as soon as possible. I just ran into Gavin – he's here alone and told me he's investigating something. But he's a trainee – he can't be investigating anything alone, right? And he seemed really nervous, and there were . . .
A huge explosion knocked Ginny to the ground from behind and she felt the heat of an enormous fireball that whizzed over her head. Wincing in pain as bricks and ash began to rain down on her she managed to look up to see the silver horse still waiting patiently above her. Gasping, she raised her wand.
Harry . . . explosion . . . Fatted Calf. A flick, and she sent the Patronus into the air, just as another fireball blew out the front windows of the pub, showering Ginny with broken glass and catching the edge of her robes on fire. Thick smoke poured out, blinding her, but she lifted her wand one more time and said the spell to send her message a second time just as something solid and heavy landed on top of her.
HPHPHPHPHP
As soon as Ginny had Apparated away from his flat Harry had fallen onto his sofa and put his head in his hands. What the hell just happened?
"What the fuck was that?" Ron was direct, staring at Harry as if he'd grown another head or something.
"Wasn't it obvious?" Fred smirked. "That was hurricane Ginny." He looked over at Harry, the smile fading from his eyes.
"A better question might be, why?"
"Wasn't it obvious?" Ron retorted to his brother. He had moved away from his dropped box and now perched on the arm of the sofa. "Cause Harry pissed her off."
"Thanks, Ron. I needed to hear that," said Harry tiredly. He looked up. "And anyway, it wasn't only me. We just both . . . couldn't get along tonight." There was more to it, of course, but Harry didn't want to think about it. Unfortunately, it looked like he wasn't going to have a choice.
"But let me get this straight, and believe me, I'm going to pretend with all my might that we are not talking about my sister," Ron was looking seriously at Harry. "The two of you have been shagging all over the place, including during her work and yours, at the Burrow and the Ministry, and yet, you haven't even kissed her?" Ron gave Harry an incredulous look. "Even I know how wrong that is."
"It's not like that Ron. We had rules." Harry absolutely did not want to discuss his and Ginny's arrangement with her brothers. But now Fred and George had pulled up chairs and sat down across from the sofa. They both gave him identical looks that clearly said he wasn't going anywhere until he spilled details. He sighed. The twins could be worse than a couple of girls sometimes.
"And not kissing was one of the rules?" Ron looked skeptical.
"I thought it was . . ." Harry began.
"But Ginny thought differently," concluded George. "So this fight was about you not kissing her?"
"No!" Harry ran his hand through his hair in frustration. "It wasn't about kissing, not really." He stopped. "It was about . . . well, everything. And nothing," he concluded weakly.
"Well, that clarifies things," snorted Ron. He looked earnestly at Harry. "You did want to take her to the ball, right? Cause last week when you asked her, you were being sort of a prat about it."
Now Harry was indignant. "Me? You were here – she was the one bugging me about inviting one of my trainees instead."
Ron nodded sagely in a way that reminded Harry eerily of Hermione. "Yes, well, that's only because Ginny was probably too nervous to ask if you would just invite her. Instead of getting all mad, you should have told her that of course she was the only one you wanted to take."
"Then why didn't she just say that!" cried Harry. "We're friends – good friends. She should be able to ask me things like that." He looked back and forth between Ron and the twins. Both Fred and George were being uncharacteristically silent
"So, you wanted to take her, then?" The twins seemed content to let Ron do all the talking.
"Of course I wanted to take her!" said Harry with exasperation. "But I thought . . . I mean, we'd kind of agreed . . ."
"If you're such good friends, you should have been able to ask her." Ron threw Harry's own words back at him.
"That's right." Fred and George were nodding. "You know, Gred, I think something else is going on here, don't you?"
"You're absolutely right, Forge. Just plain friends shouldn't have this much trouble talking to each other."
"Friends with benefits, you mean," snorted Ron. He opened his eyes. "So which is it, mate? Are you and Ginny just friends?"
Harry leaned back against the sofa and closed his eyes.
"No," he whispered, almost to himself. The truth that had been nagging the back of his mind ever since he'd realized that he couldn't use his vial anymore finally reached out and smacked him on the forehead. Actually, it had probably been longer than that. Like, from the time he hadn't wanted to leave Ginny, hungover, at the Burrow at least. He opened his eyes to see three sets staring back at him.
"It's more than friends," he admitted out loud. "Much more."
"What is it, then?" asked Ron. "Is it . . ."
"Don't," said Harry sharply. "This isn't . . . I mean, I need to talk to Ginny. Alone." He ran his hand through his hair. "I don't even know if she . . ."
"Bloody Hell, Harry, of course she does!" interrupted Ron. "D'you really think she'd waste her time screaming at a bloke she didn't care about? She'd just hex him instead, and go on her way." He slid down onto the sofa proper and rested his hands behind his head, looking pleased with himself.
"Well she did go on her way," muttered Harry. Shit, and I just let her go! He jumped up.
"I need to go find . . ."
The rest of Harry's words died in his mouth as Ginny's Patronus suddenly dropped into their midst. He listened with growing horror as Ginny's voice spoke, calmly but urgently at first and then suddenly gasped out the final few words before fading away in a burst of noise.
Ron, Fred and George were on their feet with Harry in an instant, wands out. "I'll see you there," was all he said before turning on the spot and Apparating away.
Even though it couldn't have taken more than a couple of minutes for Ginny's Patronus to arrive at his flat, by the time Harry appeared in the park across from the Fatted Calf the scene was already one of pandemonium. The building was on fire; whether as a result of some explosion or because it had been deliberately set, Harry couldn't tell. The structure was much larger than the Cloak and Dagger, which made it difficult to determine how much damage there was, especially further back, and the smoke and flames made things – and people - hard to see.
People were streaming out of the building, most covered in soot and ashes and many sporting burns or other injuries. There was no sign of Ginny.
A number of pops around announced the arrival of Ron, Fred and George. They looked in horror at the burning pub across the street.
Harry was already running across the park. He turned around and yelled at them, "Contact Kingsley – get help, now!"
Ron nodded tersely, but before he could get a single word out, Kingsley was suddenly there with Cabot Dirksen, Scott Meyers, Bindi Shah and a number of others, all still in their dress robes like Harry. They fanned out automatically, following protocol for emergencies without needing any more direction.
Fred and George looked at each other. "Mum and dad," Harry heard one of them say before they both Disapparated again.
Harry fell in step next to his boss. "How did you . . ."
"I got Ginny's Patronus at the ball." He looked at Harry. "Where is she? Arthur and Molly heard it . . . they'll be here soon."
"I just got here myself," said Harry. "Her message faded out in the middle . . ." He looked questioningly at Kingsley.
The man nodded. "She sent me the same message she sent you." He swore. "I'm sure she's right about Sykes. There was always something a bit off about him – why didn't we see it?"
Harry didn't answer. They were right in front of the pub now. In spite of the fact that the front seemed to be blown away, he could barely see two feet inside because of the smoke and flames. Coughing, he watched as several Aurors performed Bubble Head charms and pushed their way inside, looking for the injured.
Kingsley glanced at Harry. "We need to make a sweep of the people who've gotten out already. Start asking what they saw or heard while it's still fresh in their minds."
Harry nodded automatically, his eyes still scanning the scene for a flash of familiar red. Kingsley paused. "But first," he began in a much different voice. Harry looked up.
"Go find her, Harry," said Kingsley quietly. "Make sure she'd okay. Then you can be an Auror." He smiled. "Merlin knows, you deserve a break."
Harry's first instinct was to protest, to push his own needs away as usual. He opened his mouth to tell Kingsley not to worry, that he could handle this. But the words wouldn't come. Ginny was missing. He nodded, marveling for only a second that that Kingsley understood so much, so quickly. "Thank you, sir. I'll . . . it shouldn't . . ."
"Take as long as you need, Harry. Practically the entire Auror force came here from the ball. We have enough manpower without you."
Harry nodded again and then turned to sprint off towards one of the groups of people that were starting to form around the scene.
Several injured bar patrons were lying on the ground, already being tended to by Healers from St. Mungo's. Harry's eyes scanned over them quickly, learning what he needed to know in a matter of seconds. He turned and moved towards another group.
In the center of the next crowd was a woman, covered in blood. Harry caught a glimpse of a Harpies logo on her robe and his heart stopped until the Healer tending her moved away and Harry could see the woman's face. It was one of the trainers he knew well, someone Ginny had been good friends with.
"She's the worst of the lot from the back room," Harry heard someone say behind him. "A bunch of Quidditch players were at the two big tables."
The trainer's eyes fluttered feebly and she looked around, her gaze falling on Harry. He knelt down and touched her gently on the shoulder. "Calliope, can you hear me? It's Harry Potter." Calliope nodded.
"Have you seen Ginny, Calliope? She was at the pub. Was she with you?"
Calliope moved her head slightly back and forth, wincing at the effort. "No," she gasped. "We didn't think she was going to come. Bindi sent a message saying she was going to be with you." Her eyes focused a bit more. "Wasn't she?"
"No," said Harry, feeling a bit like he was going to vomit, "she wasn't."
He stood up quickly, moving to the next group, and then the next, making a wide arc around the front of the pub, searching each group of survivors.
Ten minutes later he arrived back near the front of the building again. Ron was there, helping move some of the larger pieces of brick and wood out of the way. He looked up when Harry appeared, his eyes widening when he realized Harry was still alone.
"You didn't find her?" he asked sharply, the bit of window he was levitating crashing to the ground.
Mutely, Harry shook his head. He was about to ask Ron if he'd seen Kingsley when there was a rushing by his ear and he heard his boss' voice, reporting to the Aurors as a group.
"I believe all the survivors are out," he said. "We have several bodies in the middle of the main room that have yet to be removed, including Gavin Sykes and . . ."
Harry stopped listening. All the air seemed to go out of him as he pushed past Ron and ran into the still smoldering pub.
He hadn't bothered to perform a Bubble Head charm and even though the fire was out, the smoke was still heavy in the air. Harry crouched as he ran, his eyes darting back and forth along the floor, peering under smashed tables and the half-burned bar until he hit something solid.
It was Cabot Dirksen. He was leaning over several figures on the floor, each covered with a blanket.
Harry could barely get the words out. He gestured with his hand at the bodies, not even caring that it was shaking so hard he almost dropped his wand.
"Are they all . . ." he began, choking on the question.
Dirksen nodded. "Dead." he said curtly. "Gavin Sykes and three of the blokes we've been trailing."
"Blokes?" he managed. "No . . . no witches?"
Dirksen looked at him curiously. "No. One of them was the owner of the Eagles, though."
Harry wasn't paying attention. "And you're sure no one else is in here?"
Dirksen shrugged. "The Homonem Revilio hasn't turned up anything else."
But that spell only detects . . . Harry couldn't finish the thought. Straightening up, he pushed aside a table and headed further into the pub.
"Watch out, Harry! It's still unstable back there."
Dirksen's voice barely registered as Harry moved quickly to the far back room of the pub. His heart was beating in his throat and every glowing ember laying on the ground looked like fiery red hair.
The back hallway of the pub was barely negotiable and Harry had to pick his way over burnt furniture and broken glass as he edged towards the second bar area. A creaking sound to one side made him whirl around in hope, but it was just one of the wooden booths, teetering precariously for a moment before collapsing. Something blue and fabric peeked out from under a table. Ginny's cloak is blue. Harry moved so fast he didn't feel the slashing pain in his leg as he kicked aside a pile of splintered wood or the burn in his hands when they grabbed a white hot metal chair to throw it aside. He knelt down in the ash and began pushing aside the rubble, trying to get to the object below. No, please, no. Not Ginny, he kept thinking to himself.
The fabric was stuck under a large piece of the bar, which seemed to have been blown onto its side. Harry pulled out his wand and tried to concentrate enough to say the words that would lift something that heavy up into the air. He didn't hear the way the walls kept creaking around him, all he could think was Wingardium Leviosa. Taking a deep breath, he raised his wand, willing himself not to imagine what he might be about to find.
So intent was he on his task that Harry didn't hear the groan of beams above his head. Taking a deep breath, he began the incantation, just as the weakened ceiling gave way and collapsed on top of him.
Ginny was still behind the pub with a Bindi and Tamara and a couple Aurors when the roof collapsed.
"I hope everyone got out," she said to the others, finally lowering her wand and massaging her sore arm. After one of the bar patrons had pulled her out of the way of the fire and doused her robes, she'd run to the back of the building to help fight the flames from that angle. The fire had been sending out several types of blinding magical smoke and getting it under control was not easy. Bindi and Tamara had arrived with the Aurors minutes later, Bindi reporting that Harry had gotten her Patronus and was here as well, somewhere.
Ginny didn't go looking for Harry while he was so obviously needed to help, but it didn't bother her. Her determination to speak to him and to be honest and put everything to right had only grown in the last hour; she could wait a little longer until they could talk without being interrupted.
It was only when she heard the rushing air of one of Kingsley's private messages and saw Bindi's face turn attentive, and then white, did she feel a prick of fear. Bindi was looking at her with an unreadable expression, nodding into the air at whatever she was hearing.
"Yes, she's here with me," Ginny heard her say and the look in the young Auror's eyes made her go cold. Bindi sighed, and then nodded into the air. "No, I can do it," she said quietly.
"What is it?" Ginny was direct, and to her relief, Bindi didn't try to sugar coat her news.
"Harry was in the pub when the ceiling collapsed. It fell right on top of him. They're trying to get to him now.
Ginny felt her legs give way beneath her; only though superhuman effort was she able to remain upright.
"Where?" she asked, not even sure what she meant. Her head was spinning. Had to get to Harry. If she could just talk to him, she could make everything all right. He couldn't be hurt – not after she had hurt him so badly herself, earlier. It has to be a mistake.
Bindi put her hand on Ginny's arm. "He's in a back room. They're going in through the front because of the residue from the fire back here." She squeezed. "They're doing everything they can.
Not good enough.
Fear and panic made Ginny's mind remarkably focused. She nodded, then lifted her wand . Bindi obviously thought Ginny was in shock. "He can't hear a Patronus right now," the Auror said, tugging lightly on Ginny's arm. "Let's go wait in the front."
Ginny pulled out of Bindi's grasp and pointed her wand at the back door of the pub. "Alohamora," she whispered firmly, watching it swing open.
"Ginny, where are you . . . you can't!" Bindi's voice faded into the background and Ginny slipped through the door.