Friday noon
the Great Hall
Well, one thing was certain: Ginny didn't have to worry about gaining weight on the Hogwarts food as long as James was determined to shake her off. She had to jog to keep up, but keep up she did—through the packed corridors (where her smaller size was actually an advantage), down three flights of stairs at breakneck speed, and into the Great Hall. He almost lost her at the tables; she was heading for the one farthest from the door, but the boys turned down the aisle between the first and second tables and sat down at what had been the Ravenclaw table.
Fred's body had lain just feet from here….
Ginny shook off the memory and addressed her son. "You didn't tell me the Gryffindor table had moved."
James gave her a funny look. "It hasn't." He seemed to regret breaking his hour of silence and clamped his mouth shut again.
Of course. So some things had changed after all. Ginny allowed Cameron to sit between herself and James and scanned the pupils' uniforms to figure out the placement of the other tables. There was Lily, behind her and closer to the staff table, so the Slytherin table hadn't moved. Hufflepuff was the same too, Ginny realized, and Ravenclaw had taken Gryffindor's place at the far wall. So the snakes and the lions were side by side, she mused, plopping a large spoonful of mash onto her plate and looking over her shoulder again. She had to admire McGonagall's nerve; it was disconcerting to sit with hundreds of Slytherins out of sight right behind her.
How different from the night Pansy Parkinson had tried to turn Harry in to Voldemort and the Slytherins abandoned the school.
Ginny glanced over her shoulder at her daughter again, who was chatting animatedly with friends. Lily had always seemed happy in Slytherin House, but it felt good for Ginny to see the evidence for herself. It was hard to resist the temptation to go talk to Lily, but Ginny meant what she had said to McGonagall earlier: this was James's punishment, not Al's and Lily's. She had a letter for them in her pocket that she would give to Neville later this afternoon. They knew she was here, and Ginny's hair was as distinctive as her daughter's. Lily and Al would find her if they wanted to.
"… free period," Cameron said. "We'll lose her at the common room. She doesn't know the password."
Ginny smiled at Al as he passed her and clung to the tiny smile he gave her in return as he walked on by without stopping. She didn't belong here. This was her children's world, not hers. Not anymore.
"It's all right, Mrs. Potter."
Ginny looked up to see Cecelia Longbottom sitting down across from her.
"Al isn't trying to hurt your feelings. He's just trying to be cool, and you can't do that by having lunch with your mum instead of your friends."
"I suppose not," Ginny said, smiling at the girl. She was cute and bubbly just like her mother had been at fifteen, right down to the rosy cheeks and blonde pigtails. "How are you, CeCe?"
"Not very good at Vanishing Spells, apparently," she said. "We started on snails today, and I was partnered with Rose. Mine just went a little pale, but hers lost its shell. She's really good."
"You didn't choose a partner from Gryffindor?" Ginny said curiously. Rose, her niece, was a Ravenclaw.
"Sometimes, but most of the time Professor Burke mixes up the Houses. She says we can learn from each other's strengths and weaknesses."
"That's smart. How's Frank?" CeCe's older brother was a seventh-year Gryffindor, but Ginny hadn't seen him yet.
CeCe shrugged. "He's around here somewhere. I try to stay out of his way because he's always with Louis."
CeCe introduced Ginny to her friends, and she spent a pleasant lunch conversing with the girls and eavesdropping on James. His language was rather more … colorful … than she officially approved of, but he was a sixteen-year-old boy and enough like his father to indulge in small acts of defiance wherever possible. Ginny said nothing. This was not one of the battles that had brought her to Hogwarts.
()()()()
James and Cameron left the Gryffindor table while Ginny was still talking with the girls around her.
"Come on," James urged, shooting a glance behind him as they exited into the Entrance Hall. "We've got to get behind the first tapestry before she sees us."
Cameron lengthened his stride, and the boys took the marble staircase two at a time. On up to the second floor, down the hall, and behind the tapestry of a medieval fox hunt. Up and around, using shortcuts and passages they had found with the assistance of the Marauder's Map, they wound their way to the seventh floor. They were just congratulating themselves on their success when they turned the last corner and saw Ginny lounging against the wall beside the Fat Lady's portrait.
Both boys stopped short in surprise.
"Mum? How the—how did you get up here so fast?" James changed his phrasing at the last minute.
"I'll admit it's been a while, but I've spent more time in this castle than you have." She turned to face the Fat Lady. "May I come in?"
The Fat Lady beamed at her. "Ginny Weasley. Of course you can, of course."
"Actually, it's Potter now."
If possible, the Fat Lady's smile widened. "Of course it is. I've been hoping you would come to see me since I heard you'd arrived in the castle. Come in, please."
James stuck out his hand to hold the portrait closed. "She can't. She hasn't given you the password."
The Fat Lady's smile vanished. "I am the guardian of Gryffindor Tower, Mr. Potter, not you, and I determine who may enter it. Not only is your mother a true Gryffindor in every sense of the word, if it were not for your parents, there wouldn't even be a Hogwarts. You, on the other hand, need a password. What is it?"
His mother was making a rather poor attempt to hide her smile.
"Bonfire toffee," James snarled, and the Fat Lady swung forward.
Among the pupils enjoying the last free minutes before afternoon lessons began were the rest of the sixth year boys, who had been waiting for their arrival. They waved James over to their table with such enthusiasm he could not pretend not to notice.
Evan Gwyther spoke up first. "Aren't you going to introduce us?"
"This is my mum," James said, dropping into the open chair beside the window and ignoring his mother's reproving look when he didn't name any of his classmates.
"Ginny Potter," she said, shaking Evan's hand and taking the seat across from him as Cameron took the last seat beside her.
"We know. Nate Towler. My dad, Kenneth, went to school with your brothers."
"Which ones?"
"Fred and George."
"I'm so sorry," Ginny said sincerely, and the boys laughed. James crossed his arms and stared out the window.
"And you are?" Ginny turned to the dark-haired boy on her other side.
"Sam Burton," he said quietly, not quite looking at her.
"Chaser, right? You scored seven goals in last year's match against Ravenclaw, including the one that created the lead that allowed Holly Jordan to catch the Snitch and win the Cup for Gryffindor."
Sam was so surprised he actually did look at Ginny. "Y-y-yes."
James scoffed. Bet she didn't remember any of his match statistics.
"Yes, Jamie, I know how many goals you scored in that match, and every other one you've ever flown in. Want to quiz me?"
He turned away from watching Hagrid in his pumpkin patch long enough to shoot his mother a dirty look.
"I'm sorry," she said to the other boys, and James's stomach gave a guilty squirm as she tucked her hair behind one pink ear. "He's rather mad at me at the moment."
"I thought it was the other way round," Evan said.
"Oh, it is," Ginny assured him. "But it's not possible to out-sulk a teenager. Besides, I'm here to harass Jamie, not interfere with the rest of you, so you boys just do whatever you normally do." She smiled, and all four boys smiled back at her. Even shy Sam.
James shot his mother another, longer, dirtier look. The last thing he needed was for anyone to think she was flirting.
()()()()
Ginny checked her watch and turned around to suggest to James that they get going, but his seat was empty. A quick glance confirmed he had left the common room without her. She entered the girls' dormitories, made a quick stop in the first floor bathroom, and climbed through the portrait hole. She paused at the end of the Fat Lady's corridor, considering going back to the guest quarters for her cloak, but she did not want to give James the satisfaction of being late to class.
It was cool but sunny as Ginny crossed the grounds towards the greenhouses. She couldn't really blame James for trying to ditch her, but forcing her to chase him all over the castle and grounds simply amplified her presence. The group of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors heading her way, first- or second-years by the looks of them, positively tripped over each other in their efforts to slow down and see where she was going. Which she didn't know herself; she knew James's timetable, and she had been able to find him in Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms because those classrooms had not changed locations since she had been a pupil, but she didn't know which of the five greenhouses he would be in. As the kids made their way across the vegetable gardens, Neville exited and crossed to greenhouse four.
Ginny focused on the glasshouse and the thought of her disobedient son inside, nurturing her anger and frustration to carry her past the spot where Voldemort had taunted them with Harry's dead body, past where Alice Tolipan had died as Ginny and Neville transferred her to a stretcher, past where the first Death Eater Ginny had stunned had been eaten by an Acromantula.
She pushed open the greenhouse door and sighed at the warmth. The sun heated the building to a comfortable temperature, and it was pleasantly humid and fragrant. Neville must be a popular teacher; there were no less than thirty pupils already assembled from all four houses. The room went silent for several seconds, long enough for James to look around and scowl at her, and then the buzz of conversation resumed in earnest.
"You might as well stop running away from me," Ginny said, shoving James's schoolbag off the bench and sitting down. "I know your timetable."
"McGonagall gave you a copy, did she?"
"No," Ginny said, looking up in surprise. "I have it memorized."
James frowned. "How did you do that?"
"You wrote it down for me. At the beginning of the year. I always ask for your timetable, remember?"
He stared at her, and Ginny was puzzled by his confusion.
"Every year, James. I feel closer to you if I know where you are and what you're doing when I think of you." She smiled. "Surely you didn't think I just put you on the train and forgot all about you?"
"Pretty much," he muttered, picking up his bag and pulling out his dragon hide gloves.
"Jamie," she said, stricken.
"Stop calling me that!"
Ginny swallowed her hurt and faced forward as Neville walked in front of a large table, and the class gave him their attention.
"Let's go ahead and talk about what everyone wants to know, shall we? We have a guest with us today, Mrs. Ginny Potter."
Ginny didn't need to look at James to know he was glaring at Neville; she could feel the resentment radiating off James and was relieved he had a different target, however briefly.
How could he think she didn't miss him?
"Yes, she played Chaser for the Holyhead Harpies—"
A few cheers and Ginny smiled automatically.
"Yes, she's a Quidditch reporter for the Daily Prophet, and yes, she holds an Order of Merlin as a founding member of Dumbledore's Army and defender at the Battle of Hogwarts—"
A murmur of interest passed through the group, and she heard one boy ask his friend about Dumbledore's Army.
"But today she's just here as James's mum. Even if she was my date to the Yule Ball."
The class laughed and appraised her with fresh curiosity. Caught by surprise, Ginny felt herself blushing as Neville winked at her. He knew. He knew James was being dead awful, and he was trying to cheer her up. She gave him a small smile.
"Now." Neville clapped his hands together and indicated a line of gnarled stumps along one side of the greenhouse. "Mrs. Potter, I seem to recall you achieved a N.E.W.T. in Herbology. Can you identify these plants for us, please?"
The rest of Friday dragged interminably. Ginny continued to follow James but made no further efforts to talk to him. She sat alone in the common room after dinner, watching as each of her sons visited with his friends. Normally she would have found it interesting, watching James and Al in separate social groups when they teamed up so often at home, but the boys remained united in their Let's Pretend Mum Doesn't Exist campaign. While she certainly hadn't expected to be welcomed with open arms, she hadn't expected to be so thoroughly shunned, either.
Maybe she was too used to being famous.
Her Gryffindor nieces and nephews—well, niece and nephews; Roxie was the only Weasley girl in Gryffindor now that Victoire had left—stopped by her chair to say hello, but it was obvious they were only responding to their friends' demands for introductions. Ginny smiled politely but didn't involve the kids in conversation as she usually would, and group by group, the Gryffindors wandered off to their own pursuits. When curfew arrived, Ginny said goodnight to James (who ignored her, even though his friends looked up uncomfortably) and climbed out of the portrait hole to make her way to her guest room.
Anticipating that James, who liked a good lie-in as much as Ron always had, would rise early on Saturday in an attempt to avoid her, Ginny set her alarm for half an hour before breakfast began and was waiting in the common room when James left his dormitory. He followed her without protest, and they ate the entire meal in silence—an echoing, oppressive silence that was only broken when two Ravenclaw girls entered the otherwise empty Great Hall, their rucksacks already stuffed for a visit to the library.
Ginny had brought her handbag with her this time, and when James returned to the boys' dormitory, she chose her favorite table by the window and spread out her work. James woke from his nap in time to join his friends for lunch but did not follow them onto the grounds, and he declined Al's offer to play Quidditch when they met him on the way back to Gryffindor Tower after dinner. James disappeared to his dormitory for the third time, and Ginny was about to despair of spending any decent time with him today when he returned with an armful of books and sat down at the opposite corner of her table.
Ginny abandoned her notes (she had three articles outlined, but she could only write so much when she hadn't observed the team practices) and studied James instead. He was a good pupil, having earned eight O.W.L.s and even scraping an Acceptable in History of Magic. She wondered what had caused him to botch the essay for Neville last week.
"Stop staring." He didn't look up or even stop writing.
"I miss you," she said quietly. "It's horrible having you right here and not talking to you."
He spared her a cold glance. "It's horrible having you here at all."
"Well, good!" Ginny snapped, slamming her hands on the table as she stood up. "It's supposed to be horrible, James, but I have to say, your immense immaturity is not helping!"
People were staring. She took a deep breath and sat back down, gathering her notes into a stack.
James's quill scratched on. Ginny's fingers itched to snatch it out of his hands. He was so like Harry, and in the most annoying ways….
a/n: Thanks to Hippothestrowl for pointing me to the DA signature list in the OotP movie as a source for the name of the girl Ginny is assisting when Harry passes her on his way to the Forbidden Forest.