Chapter 7

Amy stepped out of the Floo, dropped her bags, and turned to help her young houseguest out of the cramped fireplace. Ginny ended up doing a sort of somersault- dive as she fell forward and turned in mid- air to keep her shopping bags off the floor. She landed on her back, head on the carpet, butt on the hearth, and feet still inside the fireplace, and both witches cackled with laughter. Somewhere between the shoe store and the drugstore, everything had become hilariously funny.

″Sorry, sorry!″ Amy tugged on Ginny's arm, but she was laughing so hard she couldn't get leverage. ″My fireplace is really too small for traveling by Floo, but I couldn't walk another step.″

They had started with an early lunch at McDonald's (Ginny chose Muggle over magical and requested someplace American) before heading to Khan al-Khalili. A couple of stores where Amy pretended to be looking for herself, constantly asking Ginny's opinion, a few casual comments about this or that looking good on the girl, and Ginny's reticence melted away. Amy gave her the choice between new uniform robes or new street clothes, and Ginny immediately opted for the latter, saying it was what everyone at Hogwarts wore outside of class. As Amy had suspected, Ginny had good taste limited only by a lack of knowledge and experience, both of which Amy happily supplied.

As far as Bill's request to "buy her whatever the other girls will have," Amy had no idea. She was from America, Ginny went to school in Scotland, and they were shopping in Egypt. Anything from the ancient magical cultures had always been popular at Amy's school, and it was a traditional souvenir, so they went to a wizarding jewelry shop to pick out a chain that Ginny liked. Amy was planning to suggest to Bill that he buy Ginny a charm with her name in hieroglyphics to wear on it. They had also purchased a wand holder for Percy (that Ginny paid for with her own money, saying she had been saving extra for Percy's seventeenth), and Amy lingered over a gorgeous pair of gold filigree earrings before realizing buying herself jewelry with Bill's money had too many connotations of permanence that didn't exist. That thought made her depressed, so they made a mid- afternoon stop for dessert, and Amy decided what she really needed was a new pair of shoes.

Ginny looked highly skeptical at the idea of shoes as a pick- me- up, but one hour and a new pair of boots later, she was a convert. Amy fell in love with a pair of peep- toe pumps in the window of the third store. They were red with a tiny black bow and very expensive. She was standing in front of the mirror admiring how long they made her legs look and trying not to imagine Bill's face when he saw the receipt when her mind suddenly wondered what his face would look like if Charlie saw her in these shoes, and she bought them on the spot. Amy and Ginny's final stop had been a Muggle drugstore where they examined every aisle, coming home with a selection of makeup, curlers, fashion magazines, and nail polish.

Ginny was still on the floor, surrounded by packages. Amy smiled down at her.

"What do you want for dinner, pizza or ice cream?"

"What's pizza?"

()()()()

Three slices of deep- dish pepperoni and mushroom later (she had walked a lot today), Amy was winding Ginny's long, silky hair around bendable curlers as Ginny flipped through a magazine.

"So, are there any cute boys at Hogwarts?"

Ginny shrugged. "I guess so."

"Any who've caught your eye?" She had rolled two sections of hair before Ginny answered.

"I think Harry is cute."

"What's he like?"

"He's kind of quiet and really nice. He plays Seeker for Gryffindor— we're all in Gryffindor too, it's the best house— and he's really good. Some people say he's even better than Charlie, and Charlie was recruited to play Seeker for the national team."

Really? And he chose to work with dragons instead. Interesting.

"He has really messy black hair— I don't think he even tries to comb it— and emerald- green eyes. I think he's tall, but—" the petite girl shrugged and grinned over her shoulder— "everyone is taller than I am. Even most of the girls."

Amy smiled and re- rolled the section that was loosened by Ginny's movement. "He does sound cute. What's his last name?"

"Why?" Ginny said suspiciously.

"Well, there's no point crushing on a boy whose last name doesn't mesh with yours, or whose initials turn yours into something ridiculous.″

Ginny blushed. "It's Potter."

Amy dropped the rattail comb she was using to separate Ginny's hair. "The Harry Potter?"

She nodded. "He's Ron's best friend."

Amy did the math. She had been thirteen when He Who Must Not Be Named was defeated by a baby boy during an attack on his parents, so, yeah . . . that fit. Wow.

"What's your middle name?"

"Molly, like my mum."

"Hmm, GMP . . . no, I think GWP is better. And Ginny Potter has a certain ring to it, don't you think?"

The poor girl was almost as bright as the curlers now.

"It doesn't matter. He doesn't like me."

"Why the hell not? I'm sorry. . . ."

"Please. Brothers." Ginny shrugged again, apparently her favorite gesture. "I'm just his best friend's little sister. And—" She bit her lip. "I did something really stupid last year, and I got him into loads of trouble. There's no way he could like me after that."

Amy steered her by the shoulders, and Ginny shifted her position on the coffee table.

"Did you do it on purpose?"

The secured curlers flopped wildly as Ginny shook her head. "No, not at all. I didn't know— I didn't mean to hurt anybody—" She swiped her hands across her cheeks.

Gods, the girl really had had a bad year. "Well, boys have crappy memories. You keep being nice to him, and he'll see what a great girl you are."

"You think so?"

"Sure."

"No, I mean—"

Ah. Amy leaned around so Ginny could see her face. "What's not to like about you?"

"I get on better with boys than with girls. I know you only did this because Bill asked you to."

Amy sighed. Dumb boys and their clumsy attempts to fix things. "I took you clothes shopping because Bill asked me to, but I called in to work before he told me you were spending the night. I spent the whole day with you because I like you. And I don't curl hair for just anyone."

Ginny turned slightly, studied Amy's face for a moment, and then returned to her magazine. "Libby wanted to curl my hair last year, but I wouldn't let her."

"Why not?"

She shrugged again. "I thought it was silly. Why do all that when I can put my hair in a ponytail in about five seconds?"

"Well, I wouldn't take this much time with my hair every day, but there's nothing silly about wanting to look beautiful, no matter what your brothers say. Libby was trying to make friends with you by sharing something she liked."

Ginny turned another page. "Will you show me how to do it, so maybe I could offer to curl hers?"

"Of course I will. There." Amy twisted the last curler into place. "Go take a look."

She ran into the bathroom and came back laughing. "I look ridiculous."

Amy grinned. "That's the fun part. Wait, let's add some lip gloss. Where's your bag from the pharmacy?"

Ginny rummaged through the bags still piled around the fireplace and emerged with a tube in each hand. "Which one?"

"Let's try both and then we'll decide which one's prettier."

They occupied themselves with makeup for a while and then Amy let Ginny roll the front of her hair.

"What if it doesn't look good in the morning?" The young witch frowned in concentration, adjusting the curlers just so.

"Then I'll brush it out and put it up. That's the great thing about long hair— that, and it helps with flirting."

This time, Ginny grinned back at her, tossing her curlers theatrically. "I'm hungry," she announced.

Amy laughed. "Me too. Pick out a movie and I'll make popcorn."

()()()()

A sharp knock echoed into the kitchen.

"Bill's here!" Ginny dropped the glass they were using to cut biscuits and ran for the living room.

Amy caught the glass before it rolled off the counter. "Don't open that door! I'm not dressed."

"Bill won't care."

No, she was sure he wouldn't. "Boys believe what they see, Ginny, not what they hear," Amy said, passing through the living room. "Remember that. Give me two seconds."

Amy pulled on a pair of pajama shorts and added a bra under her shirt. Come to think of it, she should have taken her own advice and not dressed up on Saturday, but she had thought they would go out for lunch. Was part of her still trying to attract Bill's attention?

Ginny was crowding the door, but she had waited for her. Amy opened it.

There were not one, but six red- headed wizards on her doorstep, all neatly dressed with hair combed and faces shining. And they smelled amazing. Amy restrained the impulse to close her eyes and inhale deeply.

"Let me guess," she said, leaning against the door. "You haven't eaten yet."

"Bill said you and Ginny were probably having biscuits for breakfast," Ron said eagerly.

Amy didn't need Bill's wink to catch the joke. She opened the door wider and stepped back.

"Merlin, what happened in here?" Bill stopped dead a few feet into the room, and his brothers spread out around him.

Amy knew it was the messiest Bill had ever seen her apartment, by far. Empty Coke cans, scattered chocolate wrappers, a few stray curlers, tissue paper from Ginny's new underwear, shoes spilling out of their boxes, two bowls with kernels in the bottom, her plate of pizza crusts, most of her movie collection, and several magazines were splayed over every surface.

"I wasn't expecting company. Ginny was going to Floo home, remember?"

Bill had the good grace to look ashamed. "We'll help."

"Yes, you will. You can start with the trash. Percy, get the dishes. The rest of you, come help me in the kitchen. Wait a minute— Ron, where's that rat?"

He patted the lump in his chest pocket. "I fed him already, so he won't bother you."

Amy gave the boy a stern look. "See that he doesn't."

"I'm glad to see you decided not to get dressed." Charlie looked her up and down— slowly, deliberately, intensely— from the curls around her face (Ginny had done a good job) to her fire- engine red toenails. By the time his eyes made it back to her face, Amy was flushed and breathless and super- conscious of every inch of exposed skin.

"I— I wasn't expecting company." She even sounded breathless. She turned quickly, looking for a distraction, and it arrived in the form of the youngest Weasley brother.

"I think you look great." Ron looked surprised at his own boldness (she could just imagine Charlie's expression over her shoulder), but the genuine compliment— without the sexual heat— calmed her. Amy sent the boy a wide smile, and his blush spread from his ears to his face.

"Thank you, Ron." She leaned close and whispered in his ear. "Bill's trying to prank you. You should know that the American word for 'biscuit' is 'cookie.' "

He looked at her, startled, then a slow grin developed. This one was going to be a charmer too. "Thanks." Then Ginny came into the kitchen and he ruined it. "What happened to your hair?"

"We curled it," Amy said quickly, fanning the girl's hair across her back. "Doesn't she look pretty?"

Percy crowded in with an armful of dishes, and he had found the ice cream bowls too. "Very nice, sis." He set them in the sink and reached out to ruffle Ginny's hair.

Amy slapped his hand away. "Hey, we worked hard on that. It's not exactly comfortable to sleep with a bunch of rods all over your head, you know." She had put a Cushioning Charm on them, but the boys didn't need to know that.

Amy had to hand it to Mrs. Weasley. It seemed all her boys, as well as her daughter, knew their way around a kitchen. Fred and George had found the food and were frying eggs and bacon, and Percy was washing last night's dirty dishes. Ron was collecting cutlery, and Charlie was setting milk and juice on the table while Ginny finished cutting biscuits and slid them in the oven.

"Hey, Percy, are you legal yet?" Amy said.

"Not for another three weeks," Bill called from the living room.

There hadn't been that much trash. Amy hoped he was re- alphabetizing her movie collection. Percy sent Bill a dirty look. Amy was sure it would have been much more mild had Bill actually been able to see it.

She wedged her way between Percy and the twins. Her kitchen was barely big enough for two, much less all this testosterone. "Let's have some fun anyway, what do you say?" She smiled up at Percy and flipped her loose hair over her shoulder, ignoring the suggestive comments from Fred and George.

"Er— well— I—" He swallowed. "Okay."

"I don't have nearly enough food to feed all of you. Do you know how to conjure more?"

It was a trick question and Percy didn't disappoint. "You can't conjure food. It's one of the five exceptions to Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. You can increase the amount if you already have some, though."

"Can you?"

"Er . . . what about Geminio?"

"Even I know that's a curse, Percy," Charlie said. "Do not curse my breakfast."

"You're on the right track. It is Transfiguration magic," Amy said. "Like an Engorgement Charm where you're expanding an object's boundaries. Try it on the eggs first."

"Amy, if he ruins those, you're buying." Bill and Ginny were watching from the doorway.

"He's not going to ruin them," Amy said, but she backed toward George— she thought it was George— to give Percy more room. Shorter than all of his brothers, the twin rested his hands on her hips and his chin on her shoulder.

"Knock it off, George."

"He's all right." Actually, he would have an excellent view down her shirt from that position, but anything that annoyed Bill was all right with her today.

Amy could feel Bill's stare on both of them but didn't look at him until she felt George straighten up. Then she met Bill's eyes and raised one eyebrow. So what? We're just friends. She turned back to Percy and warmed her demeanor considerably.

"Perfect. Now do it again, and we'll be ready to eat."

()()()()

Breakfast had gone as smoothly as could be expected with eight people in her tiny kitchen. Amy and Bill were arguing about his ability to magically expand the space without alarming the Muggles on either side of her when Charlie performed the spell and started conjuring extra chairs. She turned to yell at him instead, but he had conjured her a throne— a gold chair complete with red cushions— and he looked so pleased with himself, she had to laugh. She placed Ginny in it, much to her delight. Both Bill and Charlie commented on Ginny's curls (without messing them up), and Amy was pleased to see Ginny remain as relaxed and talkative with her brothers as she had been the day before. But as far as Amy was concerned, the best part of breakfast was the biscuits.

Amy folded the dish towel over the biscuits and set the basket on the table at Ron's elbow. He took three for himself and, instead of passing the basket to Fred, who was sitting beside him, Ron extended it across the table to his oldest brother.

"Biscuit, Bill?" Bill's face fell at Ron's lack of disappointment, and Ron played it up. ″You weren't expecting cookies for breakfast, were you? Amy is an American witch!"

Bill's eyes shot to her immediately, and she did her very best mysterious female smile— which was superb, if she did say so. Bill had taken the biscuits, and his defeat, with his usual good humor. At least until he looked at the clock.

His oath was muffled by his last bite, and he swallowed without appearing to chew. "I was supposed to be at work fifteen minutes ago! Out, out, let's go, all of you!"

Amy and Ginny rushed around the apartment, collecting Ginny's belongings and throwing the new ones in her backpack as the boys started Flooing back to the guest cottage. Amy shrunk the bigger packages and tucked them inside too.

"Thanks for everything," Ginny said, shouldering her bag.

"You're very welcome," Amy said, hugging her. "I had a great time."

"Me too. Would you— would you like to come to my birthday party next week?″ she said shyly. ″It won't be anything fancy, just Mum's cooking and chocolate cake, but I'd like you to be there.″

"I'd love it. I'll see you then." Amy watched her disappear in a whoosh of green flame, and then she was alone.

Or not. "You're late for work."

"I know," Bill said, "but I wanted to ask you to come over tonight."

Amy sighed. "Bill—"

"I want to talk to you about Ginny, find out if she told you anything."

"She didn't." Certainly nothing worth repeating to her big brother.

"Please, Amy, I could use your help. I don't have time to tell you what happened last year, but I want to get Ginny into the Core, and I can't do it by myself."

"The curse breakers' training course? That place will eat her alive! You can't—"

But he had already stepped into the flames and disappeared.

()()()()

Amy chose her clothes carefully, pulled her hair into a plain ponytail, added tinted lip balm, and reviewed her appearance in the bathroom mirror. Nothing special: no makeup, no jewelry, no extra skin, just relaxed fit jeans and a Quidditch t- shirt. She closed her eyes, turned on the spot, and Apparated just outside Bill's door.

"It's open!"

Amy reminded herself she was only here for Ginny and entered his apartment. "Hey."

Bill looked up when she entered the kitchen. "Hi. Help yourself." He waved his hand over the table, and Amy picked up a carton of lo mien and a fresh pair of chopsticks.

"You can't live on takeout, you know."

"I had a great breakfast this morning." He grinned at her.

Amy smiled back. They were friends, right? "What's all this?"

"Research." He marked his place and closed what looked like a dark magic textbook, stacking his notes on top of it. "I can't tell you the whole story, not because I don't trust you, but because it's really not my place to tell."

Amy nodded.

"Ginny was writing in a cursed diary last year. It got dropped in with her schoolbooks without anyone knowing, and she didn't realize what it was. I don't know what the curse was, exactly, but the diary wrote back to her, and she had some periods of time where she didn't know what she was doing."

"What do you mean?"

Bill hesitated. "Like the owner of the diary was controlling her actions."

Amy set down the lo mien. "Bill, that's more than a curse. That sounds like a—"

"Don't say it." He scrubbed his hands over his face, then sighed. "You think it sounds like one too?"

"If she has memory loss and unexplained activities? Yeah, I do. Those are signs of possession. And it wrote back to her intelligently?"

"Apparently. I've been trying to figure out what would destroy it."

Amy frowned, picking up the noodles again. "Ginny still has it?"

"No. At least, I don't think so." He looked startled, as if he'd just now considered the location of the diary. "But I can't imagine Dumbledore— the headmaster— letting her keep it. Dad said it was destroyed, but he won't tell me anything. He's treating me like a child." Bill toyed with his chopsticks, standing them on end and letting them fall, over and over.

"I know they're really difficult to destroy. It takes more than the usual magical means."

He let the chopsticks fall twice, then three times, before he spoke. "Do you think basilisk venom would do it?"

"Basilisk—" She dropped her next bite, then swallowed and tried again. "I think basilisk venom would destroy anything except a basilisk. But where on earth are you going to get that?"

"I shouldn't have to. I don't think Dad would lie to me about the diary being destroyed. I just want to be certain it is permanently destroyed."

"You said something yesterday morning about Ron telling you what happened?"

He nodded, still standing the chopsticks on end and turning them over. Bill always fiddled with whatever was in his hand. Chopsticks, a quill, her hair. . . .

"But he didn't say anything about its destruction?" Amy bit into an egg roll.

"We didn't get that far."

"Well, it would explain a lot."

"Like what?"

She poked some stray pieces of cabbage back into the roll. "I noticed at Thebes that she was afraid of the dark, and I thought it was weird because it didn't fit what you'd told me of her. And she said something last night about getting someone into trouble and not meaning to hurt anybody."

"She's been having nightmares. Ron has been really worried about her."

"Yeah, I finally put some Dreamless Sleep potion in her drink when she wanted to start a third movie at 1:30 this morning. You're thinking about taking her into the Core and confronting the fear head- on."

"She's really smart, Amy, and talented. I want to show her there are ways to recognize and fight dark magic so she doesn't have to be scared of it."

"I think it's awesome. Who are you going to bribe? And with what?"

"It has to be Donerk. He's the goblin with universal access to the Core, and I need to make sure the rooms are set correctly and no one will interrupt us. I've already turned over everything from my last assignment, though. I'll have to use my next one as collateral."

"I don't have anything because I turned it all in anticipating inventory today, but I should get a new assignment this week." Amy Summoned a butterbeer. Goblins were greedy creatures, and to reserve the entire training center? That wouldn't come cheap. Bill needed her next bonus more than she did. Plus what she and Ginny had put on his line of credit yesterday. . . .

He dropped the chopsticks. "You don't have to do that. I mean, I wasn't asking—"

"I know you weren't. I offered. Just because I don't have siblings doesn't mean I don't know what it's like to love someone. And he'll want at least half of your cut, especially if it's sight unseen."

He tossed her a fortune cookie. "That's okay. She's my baby sister."

Amy smiled. "She idolizes you."

Bill made an awkward motion that was half shrug, half squirm. "What does it say?"

Amy squinted at the script. Her ancient Egyptian was much better than her Arabic.

"Don't be afraid to take a big— something about two and small." She held out the slip of paper.

" 'Don't be afraid to take a big step. You can't cross a chasm in two small jumps.' " He broke open his own cookie. "Nice. 'Romance could divert your attention from money matters today.' "

Amy stood up. "That's my cue."

"Don't go. Please? Play a game of chess with me."

Amy sighed. She really shouldn't. The longer she stayed, the more likely she was to— well, stay. "But I suck at chess."

"I know. I haven't beaten anyone all weekend. Percy has been playing Ron and he's excellent."

Amy didn't miss the pride in his voice, and a reluctant smile tugged the corners of her mouth. "One game.″

"Best two out of three," he countered.

Her stomach dropped, and she watched Bill's blue eyes darken. He remembered too. The last time he had suggested two out of three, they'd been playing strip chess, and— then they hadn't. She broke eye contact.

"Just chess, Amy."

It was a bad idea; she knew it was a bad idea. She should just take her wand and go home.