Antithesis

Disclaimer: I don't own anything even remotely related to Harry Potter, except a little of the merchandise.

Notes: So long since my last update! I apologize; circumstances ran away with me. However, I am rather fond of this story (mostly because I am rather fond of Seasonal Suffering, which is this story's sequel and my baby) so I intend to finish it; it's just that, being an upperclassman and all, I'm super busy. Sigh. But I'll do my best (I miss writing!).

IMPORTANT NOTE!: Now that the sixth book is out, I find it necessary to clarify the fact that this story is now an "alternate universe" story-meaning that it no longer follows the timeline of events set in the books created by J.K Rowling. It follows accurately up to, and including, book five (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix), but book six is not included herein (I would like to point out, however, that I totally called it… *wild, self-satisfied, almost-but-not-quite maniacal laughter*).

This one's short but sweet—enjoy.

Chapter Two: Elephantine Embarrassment

Irritation. It was often the first emotion that Ginny felt upon waking, because sleeping was one of her favorite things to do, but this time it was worse than usual because there were voices nearby and there shouldn't be.

Why are there people in my room?

She made the effort to frown but found that her muscles were still too sleepy to respond to her mental nudges. It really didn't help that someone was running a hand through her hair—that often made her relax to the point of falling asleep. I hate dozing, she thought, her mind drifting fuzzily over the concept. You can hear all the things going on around you, and you just can't make yourself respond to any of it. Just then, one of the voices sounded in a deep rumble beneath her ear.

"You didn't have any trouble then?"

Ginny could hear there was some kind of response, but she was too busy trying to figure out why her pillow was able to talk to really understand what it was. About the same time she realized her pillow was also hard and somewhat bony, the deep rumbling under her ear came again.

"Good," it said, "Mum'll be relieved."

Charlie? She tried to frown again, and this time she felt her brow respond sluggishly to her demand that it express displeasure. Why am I sleeping on Charlie?

The other voice responded again, this time in a questioning tone, and Ginny was attentive enough this time to at least realize that she recognized the voice—though she didn't really know whose it was.

"Probably for awhile yet," a third voice said. "I don't think she's been sleeping well lately."

Okay, that was definitely Ron. Did I fall asleep in the living room? She fought the sleep still fogging her brain and vaguely recalled that she had felt a bit tired while reading that book, so she supposed she might have drifted off. But it was odd that she was still there—usually her brothers shifted her to her bedroom, or at least her own couch, when she fell asleep while using them for pillows. Feeling a little panicked now, she tried to force her body to finish waking up, but it seemed reluctant to obey—someone was still stroking her hair.

"Has she been having nightmares again?" the familiar but as-yet-unidentified voice asked.

They're talking about me! she realized with a start.

"If she has, she hasn't told me about them," Ron replied. There was a moment of silence. The hand (Charlie's she realized absently) paused momentarily on the back of her head, and she felt Charlie shift slightly beneath her.

"No," he said, as if answering a question. Or a look from Ron, she realized. "She hasn't said anything to me either."

And why would I? she thought indignantly, feeling the space between her eyes creasing again. Honestly, the world doesn't need to know that I still occasionally dream about that git Tom Riddle, now does it?

"Hm." She could hear cards shuffling in the ensuing silence, felt the hand moving through her hair and despite all efforts to the contrary, she felt herself drifting back to sleep as the silence lengthened. So she only vaguely heard it when the kitchen door swung open.

"I'm home!," Bill's voice called brightly, and Ginny, startled by the loudness of it, could hear his footsteps coming closer even as Ron shushed him irritably.

"Gin's asleep, Bill," he hissed, and she felt a surge of warmth at her brother's protectiveness.

"Whoops," she heard her oldest brother whisper, and she knew he was nearby because she could smell the sunshine and grass from outside clinging to his clothes. "Charlie," she heard him say, and felt her second oldest brother shift carefully beneath her, heard the sound of their palms connecting even as she felt Bill lean into the awkward hug she knew they were sharing over the back of the couch. Then there was a hand laid softly on her hair, a different hand, and she felt a gentle kiss pressed against her temple even as her brother's long hair swept across the top of her head and over her cheek and she realized he had moved to lean over the back of the sofa above her. She tried to open her eyes to greet him properly, and was very close to managing it, when she heard him move away and felt a pang of disappointment.

I want my Bill hug! she thought childishly.

"Ron," she heard Bill say, followed again by the sound of palms connecting and Ron being pulled out of his chair into Bill's arms. There was the slap of hands on backs, and Ginny got her bleery eyes open just in time to see Ron settle himself back in his chair—a chair which was situated directly across from that of—

"All right there, Harry?" she could hear the smile in Bill's voice, even as she stared in disbelief at the green-eyed boy seated across the living room.

"All right," the now understandably familiar voice answered, accompanied by a quick smile and the clasp of hands. "You?"

Harry Potter is here! she thought desperately, tuning out Bill's response to Harry's question. He's here. Right here in my house, in my living room! And I've been sleeping. Ginny, you dolt, how could you fall asleep? Who knows how long he's been here!

Mortified, she slammed her eyes shut again and twisted so her face was buried against her brother's neck to hide her embarrassment. The hand in her hair paused in its ministrations.

"Gin?" Charlie murmured, and she felt him pull back a little in an attempt to look at her. She just wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face further with a quiet moan.

"Is she waking up?" Ron asked, and she could feel the other occupants of the room turning to look at her.

"I'm not sure," Charlie lied, his hand resuming its gentle stroking. The room was silent for a few seconds while Ginny tried and failed to gather the courage to look up and greet her newly-arrived brother and her friend, then the conversation across the room picked up again. Ginny suddenly felt Charlie shift and pull her closer. His mouth dropped down near her ear, his cheek against her hair, and he very softly whispered, "You have to come out sometime."

"Don' wanna," she replied, voice equally quiet.

"Come on, Gin-bug, it's not so bad."

"Yes it is."

"Why?"

"I was sleeping!" she hissed.

"He hasn't even been here long, Ginny. And you're adorable when you sleep."

"You said that about me when I was five and drooling all over my pillow too, Charlie," she told him, exasperated and still embarrassed.

"And it was as true then as it is now. Come on, Gin, come out. I haven't seen your pretty smile in weeks and weeks; it's not very nice of you to sleep through my first afternoon home and deny me your radiant company." He paused and then continued, his tone sly, "I'm sure Harry feels the same way."

"Charlie!" she squealed, forgetting to be quiet, and jerked, red-faced, from her brother's embrace to punch his arm (remembering only at the last minute to aim for the uninjured one). He laughed at her outright so she glared at him and crossed her arms over her chest, turning her face away disdainfully.

"Charlie Weasley, what have you done to our dear baby sister?" Bill demanded in mock outrage. He opened his arms to her. "Come here, Gin-bug. I'll make sure he doesn't do it again."

Ginny glared at her oldest brother now. "Bill, I am not a child," she informed him, "I don't need your protection." Nevertheless, she rose from her place on the couch and hurried into the familiar comfort of her brother's arms, deciding to ignore for the moment the disturbingly handso-no the disturbingly un-handso-wait that wasn't right either. She sighed. Fine, the just plain old disturbing presence of Harry Potter just three feet away.

Hugging her brother tightly, she stood on tiptoe and asked, "Have you been being careful?" Sometimes, when she let herself really think about it, it scared her that he was off working for the Order of the Phoenix, even though it probably wasn't any more dangerous than his normal curse-breaking duties. She couldn't seem to help but remind him to be careful whenever she saw him.

"Of course, Mum," he answered teasingly. She scowled and smacked his arm too.

"I see that dating Fleur hasn't taught you any manners whatsoever!" She told him, annoyed. He just laughed and pulled her back against him, smiling against her hair as he lifted her up to swing her back and forth enthusiastically, ignoring her now laughing protests. "I missed you, Ginny," he told her. "How've you been?"

Ginny leaned back to look him in the eye, catching a note of concern under the teasing overtones. "I'm good, Bill," she told him, then smiled and kissed both his cheeks. "Now put me down so I can say hello to Harry."

He did not put her down. Instead he looked at her in shock and said, "Say hello to Harry? You haven't done that yet? Why ever not?"

"She was sleeping, you git, now put her down," Ron stated in a monotone that clearly implied he doubted his brother's intelligence. Bill glanced down at his youngest brother and promptly dropped Ginny. Arms freed, he proceeded to smack the back of Ron's head. Hard. But Ron was sixteen now and just as tall has his oldest sibling, a fact Bill had apparently forgotten. Glaring up at him, Ron wasted no time leaping to his feet and grabbing Bill around the neck, trapping him in an exceedingly uncomfortable position.

"That was uncalled for," Ron told him, tightening his hold and glaring harder at his struggling brother. Ron's recent achievement of his adult height had certainly evened things out when it came to these brotherly "conversations" (as they called them). Even so, Bill might have withstood this treatment and even reversed it except that Ginny, annoyed at having been dropped so hard on her bum (the second embarrassing thing to happen in front of Harry in less than five minutes!), reached out and kicked the back of his knee with her foot, and her brother went down hard. Unfortunately he dragged Ron down with him and this started a wrestling match Ginny decided she didn't much want to be on the floor with. Seeing her plight, Charlie waded in to stop them, but they just pulled him into it with a few well placed punches and a scathing insult or two ("Slimy git!" "Knock it off you freckled little pillock!" "Oh you're one to talk, Charlie! You have so many you're practically tan with them!" "You need to learn some respect for your elders, little brother!" "Old is right!" "That's it!"). Poor Ginny just barely managed to escape with her life, scooting back so fast she just knew she'd have rug-burn in some very awkward places and clambering desperately to her feet near the door of the entryway. Despite her speed, Ron's flailing foot still caught her behind the ankle and would have sent her to the ground again if a pair of strong hands hadn't caught her and pulled her securely back against a warm body. Startled, she turned to glance at her rescuer and found her gaze caught by a pair of amused green eyes (way too!) close to her own.

Harry chuckled. "Hello Ginny," he greeted warmly, smiling that wide genuine smile he saved for people he really liked. Unreasonably, Ginny felt her breath catch, and, mentally scowling, silently reminded herself to get her lungs checked out the next time she visited the mediwitch. Clearly there was something wrong with them.

"Harry," she replied, desperately fighting the foolish grin she felt spreading inexorably across her face. Try as she might, she was unable to stop herself (despite the voices screaming protests in her head and demanding to know what she thought she was doing with this boy she most definitely was not interested in thank-you-very-much-Charlie-Weasley!) from turning around to face him fully before leaning into the unexpected (not to mention horrible, awkward and not at all nice or warm or heart stopping—and no Harry Potter did not smell good) hug he was suddenly offering. Settling (completely un-) comfortably against him, Ginny sighed in ridiculously unexplainable contentment and, smile still in place, whispered softly, "Welcome home."

What else could Harry do but hug her back and smile too?

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I know, I know; it's rather short for all that you had to wait so long for it. But give me a break! I wrote it, despite persistent writer's block, in two hours, when I should have been writing one of the four papers I have due very very all too soon (It was, however, obviously more enjoyable to write this than my paper—any of them—would have been!). It might be a couple of weeks before I manage to update again—I have to get through the last few weeks of the semester, which include finals as well as a million papers, before I can really afford to work on this again. But the upside is that I'll have three and a half glorious weeks of Christmas break to write to my little authorial heart's content. In the meantime, reports of my progress can be found, as always on my profile page. Now review, review, review!