Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Chapter Thirty: The Thickening
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'First year.'

'What? You're lying!'

'I swear!'

Ron's eyes nearly bulged out of his head. 'First year?' he asked. 'But we were horrible to each other.'

'We've always been horrible to each other,' Hermione said with a small smile. 'At any rate, it wasn't as if I knew how I felt in first year. It's just … that's when it started, I suppose.'

'Why?' he asked, still not understanding.

She shrugged. 'You saved me from that troll,' she said. 'And although I'm sure Harry had to all but drag you along when the two of you went off looking for me, it was still sweet.'

'If you say so,' said Ron. 'So, when did you finally know that you were hopelessly in love with me?'

Hermione rolled her eyes.

'Ah, it's nothing to be embarrassed about,' he teased. 'You were just powerless to resist my charm. I have an amazing sexual prowess, y'know.'

'Did Lavender tell you that?'

'Oh, ouch.'

Hermione smiled. 'Around third or fourth year,' she said. 'I mean, I'd known that I felt differently about you than I did Harry, but …'

'You didn't want to admit it?' he said, knowing that it was what she meant, because he had experienced the same thing.

'Exactly,' she said. She looked at him expectantly. 'What about you?'

'What about me?'

Hermione put her hands on her hips.

'Oh, come on,' he said. 'I've already given one too many romantic speeches for tonight. Let's just go to bed.'

'Ron.'

Ron grinned. 'All right,' he said, putting up his hands. 'Second year, when you were Petrified. I've never been more worried about anyone in my entire life. But I didn't want to admit why. I spent the next four years pretending it didn't matter, that you were just my friend. I suppose Vicky got me a little riled up. But other than that …'

He hated talking about this sort of stuff. Why couldn't they just go back to snogging? They'd come up to his room twenty minutes ago, and they'd spent the last ten talking. What the bloody hell was Hermione playing at?

It wasn't as though he didn't enjoy talking to her, because he did. But he'd spent the last six years talking to her. What was it going to take to get somewhere? Did he need to actually die?'

He flopped onto his bed, his nose into his pillow. 'My pillow smells like you,' he told her, sounding muffled.

'Oh,' said Hermione. 'That's because I, um, that is … I've been sleeping here at night.'

Ron looked up at her and grinned. 'You've been sleeping in my bed?' She nodded, looking somewhat embarrassed. 'What d'you wear?'

'Git,' Hermione said.

'Wait – does Harry sleep here, too?' he asked. It wasn't as though he didn't trust Harry and Hermione alone together – really, he trusted them with his life – but he would be lying if he said the idea didn't bother him in at least one way.

'No,' Hermione said. 'He – he sleeps in Bill's room.' There was something about the way she said it that made him think she was lying, but he decided not to push her. The last thing he needed was her getting hacked off at him tonight.

He moved over on his bed, making room for Hermione, and she lay down beside him. 'Okay, then.' Turning onto his side, he smiled cheekily and said, 'Nobody's home and we're lying on my bed.'

Hermione laughed. 'Harry, Ginny, and the twins are downstairs,' she said.

He felt like asking, So bloody what? What did it matter if they were downstairs? What did it matter if every member of Magical Britain were downstairs? He just wanted a nice snog from the girl he'd loved since he could remember.

Still, Ron knew better, and so he gave in. 'Fine,' he said. 'Let's talk some more. What did I miss while I was gone? Have any other Horcruxes been found?'

'No,' she said.

'Are we close to finding one?'

She frowned. 'I'm not really sure. The Order must be working on it.'

'You haven't had any meetings?'

'No, there have been meetings … I think,' she said. 'Harry's been invited back to the Order, but he doesn't want to rejoin. And I would probably be allowed in, since I'll be eighteen soon, but I haven't had any interest.'

'Why not?'

'These past few weeks,' she said, 'it's as if I've been up here.' She held out her hand above them. 'Just … floating. Waiting for something – for you, I guess. And for the first time since what happened at the wedding, I feel like I'm – like I'm back on the ground.'

He was such a selfish prick.

He was so glad to be home that he hadn't even considered the toll his absence had taken on everyone else – especially Hermione.

'I'm sorry,' he said.

She smiled. 'You have no reason to be sorry.'

He frowned. Why was she being so nice to him?

'Yeah,' he said, 'I do. I should've caught on sooner. I mean, come on. If it had been you, you would've figured everything out in a bloody day! All these crazy things were happening and I knew something wasn't right, but did I ever question it? No! I just – I just believed everything everyone told me. I can't even believe what an idiot I was!'

'You are not an idiot! None of that was your fault! Don't think for a second that it was!'

'But –'

'It is not your fault. You didn't ask for this. And even if it was your fault, it doesn't matter. You're here now. You're home.'

'I know, but –'

'Ron,' she said, putting her fingers to his lips. 'You need to shut up.'

He tried to hold back his smile, he really did, but it was hard not to smile when he was with her.

'If you keep talking like this, I'm going to have to hit you,' she said. 'And I really don't want to do that. You do remember what happened to Malfoy, don't you?'

He laughed then, and it was as if some sort of spell was broken. 'Yeah, I remember,' he said. 'That'd be pretty hard to forget.'

She smiled widely and closed her eyes.

'What day is it?' he asked.

'The Fifteenth,' she said. 'Actually, it's past midnight. It's the sixteenth now.'

Something clicked in his head. 'That means it's your birthday soon. Isn't it?'

She opened her eyes and just looked at him for a minute, and he cursed in his head. It probably wasn't her birthday. He'd probably gotten it wrong, and now she was going to get angry with him because he couldn't remember a simple date. Hell, the way things were going for him lately, he wouldn't be surprised if the nineteenth of September was Lavender's birthday.

To his surprise (not to mention relief), she nodded.

'We should – we should have a big party, or something,' he declared.

'That would be nice,' Hermione said. 'But only if we celebrate Ginny's birthday, too. We, well, we didn't get to before. She spent the day in St Mungo's with Harry.'

Ron tensed. 'Oh,' he said. 'Right.' His sister hadn't even had a proper sixteenth birthday because of him. 'Well, yeah! We'll celebrate both birthdays. It'll be great.'

'You're sure your mum won't mind?' asked Hermione.

'Are you kidding?' he said. 'Mum loves fussing over people.'

'That's true,' said Hermione.

'So,' Ron said after a moment. 'What else have I missed?'

'Not much, to be honest.'

'What about my sister? And Harry? How are they?'

'They're … good,' said Hermione.

'Just good? Are they together?'

'They're … great, I suppose,' she said slowly. 'And, um, together?'

Ron made a face. 'I don't mean that way!' he said. 'Yuck. No, I'd definitely rather not know about that. I don't think I'd fancy having to kill Harry.'

Hermione rolled her eyes. 'Then I suppose the answer is yes. They're together. Although, I don't think you need to worry about killing him for quite a while.'

'Thank Merlin for that … and what about my parents? How've they been?'

He knew that Hermione probably didn't feel like being interrogated right now, but he had missed so much. Even if it didn't seem like anything to her, every tiny thing that happened was something that he hadn't been there to see and experience for himself. What if he was reunited with his brothers, only to discover that Percy had blue hair, a nose ring, and a wife?

'As good as could be expected,' she said. 'And before you ask,' she continued quickly, obviously sensing where this was headed, 'your brothers are all alive and well and probably on their way over here as we speak, so we should really get back downstairs.'

……………………………………………………………

'What d'you think they're doing up there?' asked Fred.

'Knowing them,' said George, 'Ron's probably sleeping and Hermione's probably reading a book.'

Alicia smacked his arm. 'You know,' she said, 'it's the middle of the night. I couldn't be happier that your brother is alive, and I have no problem staying here for moral support, but I'm not going to sit here if you're going to act like a giant prat.'

'That goes for us, too,' Angelina said, looking at Fred. The twins nodded, and Ginny nearly laughed at how their girlfriends had them completely wrapped around their fingers. She wondered if she and Harry were like that, and decided that perhaps it wasn't something she wanted for them. Although it would come in rather handy sometimes …

'This is just so … amazing,' Fred said seriously, dropping down onto the couch. 'I mean, really, am I the only one who half-believes I'm going to wake up any second?'

Ginny shook her head. 'No,' she said softly. 'This is a lot to process. But it's real. Trust me; I've dreamt about this enough to know the difference between dream and reality.'

They fell silent for a moment.

'Ron's alive,' Harry said. 'He's alive and upstairs.'

Ginny smiled at him and leaned her head against his chest. His hand was tracing small circles on her back and she yawned, her lack of sleep finally catching up to her. It had to be four in the morning by now. She wanted to sleep, could feel herself giving into the pull of slumber, but also wanted to stay awake. Her parents were with the rest of her brothers now, probably at Headquarters, telling them the news about Ron. And they'd all be back here any second, loud and excited and anxious to see their brother.

She knew that their happiness would be contagious, that she'd feel re-energized the moment everyone was together again, but that moment was a way off, and all she wanted to do now was rest.

She shifted slightly in Harry's lap and opened her eyes. Her brothers, Alicia, and Angelina weren't there anymore. They were probably in the kitchen getting snacks. That, or the twins had gone upstairs to pester Ron and Hermione, and the girls had gone after them, promising hell if they didn't leave the pair alone.

She looked up at Harry, who was smiling at her. Something about the look in his eyes tugged at her heartstrings. She wasn't sure how she'd tricked him into loving her, but she was hoping with everything she had that he wouldn't come to his senses anytime soon. No, she rather liked him like this.

'What're you looking at?' she asked, smiling.

'Just you,' he said. 'You're amazing. D'you know that?'

She just stared at him. He was the amazing one. He was the one who'd acted strong and responsible when Ron had come back and they hadn't been sure what to do. He was the one who'd put his personal feelings aside and acted like the adult, all to keep them safe.

Out of all the traits a person could have, Ginny never thought she could be so turned on by responsibility and level-headedness. She lifted her head up and he took it as an invitation to kiss her. They shifted and she ended up lying underneath him, but his weight pressing down on her was warm and comforting, and so she didn't mind all that much.

'Oi! Get off and let her breathe!'

Busted, Ginny thought. Harry rolled off her and held out his hand, pulling her off the couch and onto her feet. They stood face-to-face with an amused Hermione and an annoyed Ron.

'Get a room,' Ron said, and then appeared to reconsider this. 'Wait – no. Don't do that. Just … go in the kitchen.' The small smile he offered Harry betrayed him.

Harry grinned at Ginny and the four of them headed toward the kitchen. Ginny felt someone's hand clasp her wrist and turned to find Ron looking at her expectantly. She stood still and let Harry and Hermione go into the kitchen without them.

'He's different, you know,' Ron said after a moment. 'Harry, that is. He's different around you.'

She raised her eyebrows. Was this a good thing, or a bad thing? Was Ron going to yell at her for somehow breaking his best mate?

'He is?' she asked.

'Yeah,' he said, nodding. 'He's … just … different. Dunno. Happier, I guess. Not so … broody and … Harry-ish.'

Ginny laughed at this.

'Well, you know what I mean,' he said. 'I – you do know, don't you?'

'I guess,' she said. She shrugged. Truthfully, she couldn't say that she'd noticed a change in Harry.

'Shite, Ginny, when did you grow up?' he asked, running a hand through his hair. 'It's like I left and you were this kid and now you're – you're just not.'

'You've only been gone a month,' Ginny said. 'I can't have changed that much.'

All her life, she'd fought to be seen as more than a child, the youngest Weasley. And now, faced with the prospect of being a young woman, she was suddenly feeling desperate to hang on to a scrap of childhood. For in childhood, nothing but the monsters under her bed (or in her diary) could hurt her. And if they did somehow get through, there had always been someone – mainly Harry – there to protect her or her family. But Ron had disappeared, and nobody had been able to do anything to stop it. Growing up was brilliant in many ways, she decided, thinking of her relationship with Harry, but the fleeting of all innocence was something she could've done without.

'You did,' Ron insisted. 'Hermione did, too. And Harry. Did you see him before? Bloody brilliant.' Ron looked down. 'It's hard to realize that life goes on without you, y'know? It's like none of you really needed me at all.'

Ginny stared at him for a long, hard moment, trying to decide if he was being serious or not. And when she saw the look on his face – the look of complete and utter vulnerability – she did the only thing a decent sister would do.

She slapped him hard across the face.

His eyes went wide and his hand flew to his cheek. 'Ouch!' he said, sounding scandalized.

'I'm not coming to your pity party,' she declared. 'You don't think we need you? Merlin, do you know anything?'

'Wha—?'

'I cried for you,' she said. 'And Hermione cried for you. And I wouldn't even be surprised if Harry cried for you. We love you, you stupid git. Not because you're good for an occasional laugh or because you're the only one who wants to be Keeper when we play Quidditch in the backyard. Harry and I couldn't even stand to go into your room because it hurt too much. Hermione slept in your smelly bed every night because it was the closest she could get to you. It hurt every time someone said your name. I've gained three pounds because Mum kept setting a spot for you at dinner every night, and she'd cry if we didn't clear your plate. Hermione was bloody miserable. Harry was so lonely. You have no idea what life was like around here without you. It was terrible and you had better take damn good care of yourself, because I am not going through that ever again.' She jabbed her finger into his chest with every word. 'You – you did the bravest thing I've ever seen someone do when you jumped in front of me at the Manor, and I am forever grateful for that. You're a hero, Ron. So don't start acting like a pathetic little bugger. You are not twelve, and I refuse to treat you as though you are!'

For a moment, she thought Ron was going to cry. His mouth was a tight line and his chin was quivering slightly. Then he burst out laughing and hugged her.

'You're the best sister I could ask for,' he said. 'C'mon, let's go. Mum and Dad'll be home soon.'

……………………………………………………………

'Do it again!'

Harry complied by stretching out his hand and Summoning the book that Hermione was holding.

Ron jumped off his bed. 'This is so brilliant,' he said, staring at Harry in awe. 'Do it again.'

'He's done it six times already,' said Hermione.

'But it's so cool!' Ron exclaimed. 'Teach me to do it.'

'I – I can't,' Harry said. 'McGonagall says it's something you just have to be able to do. You can't really learn it.'

Ron looked only slightly deterred by this. 'Well, whatever,' he said. 'I'm still going to see McGonagall later tonight and ask if I can train with you.'

Harry was rather sure that Ron, who wouldn't be on the program voluntarily, would soon get sick of the late nights, early mornings, and extreme physical and mental exertion. He'd probably decide that it was ridiculous, and give up after a week or two. But still, for that week or two that Ron would be training, Harry thought he'd be having quite a bit more fun than usual.

'Think she'll let you?' asked Ginny.

Ron shrugged. 'As if she's going to turn down someone wanting to protect themselves.'

'Well, better you than me,' said Ginny. 'Harry gets up far too early. I know how much you like your sleep, Ron. And if you start this training, you won't be getting much of it.'

Hermione yawned. 'Speaking of sleep,' she said, 'let's turn in.'

'What about lunch?' said Ron. As if on cue, his stomach growled.

'We haven't been to bed yet,' Harry said. 'I've got a late training session with Tonks today … she won't go any easier just 'cause I've been up all night with you lot.' He looked at Ron. 'And if you're getting up with me tomorrow, you'll need all the sleep you can get.'

'Fine,' said Ron. 'Let's sleep, then.'

He and Hermione climbed into his bed, and Harry and Ginny climbed into Harry's.

Harry closed his eyes, and almost immediately felt himself drifting off to sleep —

He is back at Hogwarts. But it's different this time. He is writing something on a wall … but wait, that isn't his hand … and those letters are too curvy to be his …

He steps back to admire his work.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED.

ENEMIES OF THE HEIR, BEWARE.

The voice in his head tells him that he has done well, to go straight to bed and to tell no one of this …

The next morning, he goes down to breakfast to find everyone talking about what happened last night. It seems oddly familiar, and he is scared. He feels bile rising in his throat at the thought that he cannot place himself anywhere at the time of the incident …

HER SKELETON WILL LIE IN THE CHAMBER FOREVER.

Everything is black. He opens his eyes and – what? – he is looking at himself. His mouth begins to move, forming words he doesn't mean to say.

'Harry – oh, Harry –'

Why is his voice different? It sounds so much like Ginny …

Suddenly, without warning, Tom is back. 'Bad move, Harry Potter,' Tom says.

What's going on? …

He watches, apparently from Ginny's body, as the Basilisk roars to life again and trains itself on the twelve-year-old version of himself that is standing before him. He tries to move, but it is as if Ginny's body is stuck. He looks down at her tiny wrists and sees the shackles bolting her to the floor.

But wait … that isn't right …

Where did the shackles come from? …

'HARRY!' His mouth moves, but it is Ginny's voice that rings out in the Chamber again. He is struggling against the bonds that hold him, trying desperately to free himself, but it is no use. 'HARRY! No! Tom – please – take me instead …' —

Harry awoke to a pain in his shin, caused by Ginny's foot.

He took deep breaths and reached up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. Beside him, Ginny was still moving about in her sleep.

'Gin,' he said, and reached a hesitant hand out toward her. 'C'mon. Wake up.'

Ginny's eyes snapped open and she inhaled sharply. She jerked out of his grasp and nearly fell out of bed in a mad attempt to put distance between them.

'Ginny, it's okay,' he said. 'Stop – it's me – stop.'

She swallowed thickly and covered her eyes with her hands. 'Oh – Harry,' she said. 'I – sorry. Bad dream, I guess.'

'You're shaking.'

'I'm fine.'

'You are not,' he insisted. 'Tell me about your dream.'

She sighed. 'It was nothing,' she said.

'It was something. Look at you.'

'It isn't important,' she said dismissively. Then, quickly, she added: 'I was back in the Chamber. Same dream as always.'

Something unsettling twisted around inside his stomach at these words.

'About what happened to you in first year?' he asked.

She nodded. 'It was different, though. I mean, there's always more to it than what really happened. You save me and then –'

'And then Tom comes back, and you're chained to the floor, and he tries to kill me.'

Ginny glanced up at him, and the look on her face confirmed his thought. 'What? How did you know –?'

'I dreamt that, too,' he said. 'I woke up a second before you did.'

'Really?' she asked. 'I – I don't understand. How could we have the same nightmare?'

'Dunno,' he said.

They fell silent, and Harry allowed the dream to run through his mind again.

This is insane, he thought.

'What?' asked Ginny.

'What?' he said.

'I didn't catch what you said.'

He looked at her for a moment. 'I didn't say anything.'

'Yeah, you did. I heard you.'

'Gin, I didn't say a thing. Really, I promise.'

She frowned for a second. 'I must be hearing things,' she concluded.

Great. She's going nutters on me.

Ginny smacked his arm. 'I am not going nutters.'

'What?' said Harry.

'Oh, come on. Don't pretend like you didn't say that one, too. I heard you,' she said. 'You said that I'm going nutters on you. And I'm not!'

'I didn't say that,' Harry insisted. 'But … I thought it.'

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