Chapter 7 – July
Harry stayed a few days to help Hermione get settled but soon returned to the Burrow with a more official portkey courtesy of the Ministry. After a few days rest Harry accepted the Ministry's invitation to join the Aurors for the remainder of the Holiday. He had been assigned to Auror Ewan Duncan, Head of Trainee Initiates, who had concerns about Harry keeping up with the others. Duncan had explained to Head Auror Robards that while Harry had obviously done much more than any of the current trainees, they were nearly seven weeks ahead of the young wizard. Robards was unimpressed, "Bollocks, Ewan. The boy learned how to perform a Patronus his third year and then taught most of your trainees in their fifth. I'm told he's a quick study when he is properly motivated. Properly motivate him."
Auror Duncan decided he'd see what Harry could do. He placed him in the duelling arena with Ron and let him have a crack at his star pupil. Ron was rubbish with traps and wards but he could place any of the other trainees on their backs in a duel. Ron had taken to Duncan's lessons when it came to duelling or strategy and he easily passed the other trainees in skill within weeks. Now the teacher and trainee had become so close that Angelina would regularly wind Ron up, "Oy, Ron. You have a touch of brown on your nose. Let me wipe that off." One older trainee accused Ron of "Percying the place up" when he volunteered to help with broom duty to Azkaban. The comments bothered Ron but the annoyance was nothing compared to the joy he felt now that he was finally living his dream.
Duncan oversaw the duel and made notes, "Harry, you need to work on casting non-verbal spells. If you verbalise the spell it gives your opponents time to block and warning as to what's coming at them. Verbal spells take longer to cast." Ewan was paying close attention to Harry's wand work and form, "You notice how Ron is easily blocking your spells by simply whisking them away with his wand? A common wizard can do that Harry. You need to revise the chapters on non-verbal blocks and and practise with Ron daily."
After a half an hour Harry was winded and they took a break. Ron sat next to him looking as if he'd barely exerted himself at all and Harry couldn't help but comment, "You look good Ron. I didn't touch you once. You disarmed me any time it suited you." Ron looked very happy with himself, "Mate, Auror Duncan has made it easy. I don't know why but when I work with him I don't even feel like I'm revising. He taught us all in a month what I learned in a year at Hogwarts."
"Are they still insisting you return for your NEWTS?"
"Yes, they've promised that they will make it worth our while. They won't say who the Defence Against Dark Arts Professor will be but they've promised it will be geared toward the Auror Program and they are willing to count the year as a year of our training," Ron was playing with his wand and twisting it around his fingers like a baton. "In the past Aurors didn't go out in the field for most of the first year anyway."
"You're considering returning?" Harry and Ron hadn't chatted much alone in the past month and Harry was thankful to finally catch up with his best mate.
"I'm considering it. I've wanted to be an Auror since I was a boy. That and Keeper for the Cannons. The way they are playing this year I could have a chance. George has also told me that he'd be willing to take me on if I decided to pass on my NEWTS. Now that he's back at Wheezes I think he appreciates all the work I did there while he was in his drunken stupor. One weekend I came in and the entire shop was a wreck. I'd have thought he'd been robbed if I didn't know better." Ron made a quick glance at Harry, "If I returned next term, do you think you would too?"
Harry sat thoughtfully. Before he could answer Auror Duncan walked in ready to start, "Both of ya' up. I want to see your skills at dodging and blocking. I know ya' can take a curse Harry. Let's see how well you step out of the way."
Harry found out later that day that some of the new Auror Trainees met regularly at the Cauldron and tonight he'd been invited by Seamus. Ron was carrying the conversation at the moment, "So Zacharias is in the middle of the action. We all move to storm the door and he stands up only to duck behind a rock when a red streak passes nearby." Ron shook his head, "I still don't know why Shacklebolt invited the ruddy bleeder."
Dean answered, "Because Hermione gave him that list of DAs, that's why. None of us want to be paired up with him. Neville, Angelina, and Susan avoid him at all costs. Michael Corner is the only bloke that will voluntarily work with him. I heard Katie Bell went so far after her first time as his partnersto say that the next day she was partnered with him would be her last day as an Auror." Dean eyed Harry, "I heard you had a rough go of it today."
"My best mate was given permission to tear me apart and he took full advantage," Harry lamented as Ron gave a sheepish grin. "Little did I know that while I was recovering, Ron had made it his mission to learn every curse and hex he could."
"I imagine he brushed up in case you began snogging his sister again," quipped Seamus. Harry's face clouded over and Ron shook his head. Seamus looked around the table, "What?"
"I need to use the loo," Harry grumbled as he got up and stepped away. When he was out of earshot Ron whispered, "They haven't spoke since...he woke up. I think he thinks it's because of him but she feels guilty about running out of his room or some other nonsense. Hermione hatched a plan to get them together but she's likely to spend the rest of her holiday surfing with her parents."
"Why don't you do something? He's your best mate," Seamus asked.
"Right. I'll ask my best mate, 'Harry, have you thought about taking my lil' sis' out to the pond to have a good snog and paw?' Shh...He's coming back."
Harry returned to a silent table, "I imagine you were talking about that table of young witches and my sudden appearance embarrassed you? It must have been something lewd – Seamus, are you inventing new limericks again?" The table broke into a few nervous laughs and as Harry sat down Ron ruffled his hair.
"No, mate," answered Ron. "By the way, did you see Neville? If he gets any larger he's going to have Shacklebolt running for cover. He can't be an inch shorter than me and his shoulders are huge. He looks like he could play for one of those American football clubs."
"Speaking of football, did you see the match last night between England and France? Brutal, absolutely brutal." Dean was shaking his head in despair, "Beckham was red carded for kicking Simeone. England was a man down nearly half the match. That bleeder Beckham won't amount to anything..." Seamus was busy getting the barkeep Tom's attention while Dean was complaining, "...I doubt he'll stick around long after embarrassing himself like that. Campbell still almost won the match but the goal was ruled out." Dean stared into his pint, "And now the ruddy French are..."
"Aye, aye" interrupted Seamus. "Such a sad day. At least bloody England advanced out of match play. We didn't even get in. But all the same, let me buy you another pint, Mate. You can nearly see the bottom of that one." He pointed to himself and Dean so Tom understood, "Could we get a pint of Guinness? And two Butterbeers for the ladies here."
"Har Har, Seamus. What are you going to tell Auror Duncan when he finds out a lady pummelled you?" asked Ron with a touch of sly menace.
"I'll tell him that I expected you to back me up but when the lady pulled out her wand you went and hid behind a rock with Zacharias and the two of you have since become very close." That drew another round of laughs, including Ron. Seamus made an effort to change the subject, "Harry, did I hear right? Do you have your own flat? I heard that a few of the Aurors dropped by yesterday and checked the place out?"
Harry figured eventually the secret would get out, "Yes, I inherited it from Sirius. I was there yesterday to look at the damage and see what it would take to make the place liveable. Auror Duncan came by with two Aurors and checked for traps or wards and make sure there weren't any Death Eaters hiding out. I also had the wards replaced and cleaned up some."
Dean and Seamus grinned at Harry, "Party?"
"You think if he was to clean the place up he'd invite you lot for a party?" Ron's question earned a snigger from the barkeep Tom as he set down the pints. "Honestly, my best mate has better judgement than that. He'd have to wipe up the floors behind you as each of the girls took turns tossing drinks in response to your creepy come-on lines."
"No bird's ever thrown a drink in my face, mate," laughed Seamus, "Knickers, yes, drink, no."
"Your lil' sis throwing her laundry to you doesn't qualify," countered Ron. Seamus blushed proving Ron had hit the mark.
Dean thought it'd be good to change the subject again. He stood up and raised his fresh pint. "To the month of July. May each day be as good as this first one." The group answered, "Cheers!"
Harry and Ron slipped into the Burrow as quietly as they could. They weren't snoggered but they were cheerful. Each misstep caused the two of them to erupt in a fit of laughter followed by either Harry or Ron exclaiming, "Sshhh!" even more loudly. They both thought they were caught when candlelight could be seen from the stairs and they comically froze like statues. At first they stood silently but as one would lose balance the other would lose composure.
The light flickered as the sound of socks padding down the steps was occasionally overcome by the creak of a step. As the candle itself came into view Harry realised it was Ginny and not Mrs. Weasley making her way down. Ron quietly announced, "I'm off to bed," and slipped up the steps as quietly as he could manage.
Now Ginny was frozen in place as well. The two of them watched as the flame flickered and danced and gave a nearly surreal look to each of them. Harry did not want to cause Ginny any more discomfort. He looked down and mumbled out "I guess I should be getting on to bed too."
As he walked past she whispered "Wait..." Her voice froze him on the spot. Her eyes never left his as she stepped up in her white socks and pyjamas. After what seemed like days, or even centuries, she set the candle on a nearby table and placed a hand on his cheek. She took his hands and arms and looked them up and down as if checking that all was in order. Then, without warning, she unbuttoned his shirt and stared at his chest and stomach. He'd healed and gained the weight back but the faintest of scars still made a web from his ribs to his trousers where the skin had been regrown. She tilted her head and traced her fingers along the scars with such curiosity that his fear was overcome by something else that made him wish she'd never stop.
She unbuttoned the rest of his shirt and pulled it off his shoulders letting it flutter to the ground. He watched her as she studied each inch of his chest and neck and arms. He imagined she were like a curator at a museum poring over her most precious piece but it was more intimate than that. He felt naked in front of her though he was still half clothed. When finally her gaze again finally met his, her eyes smouldered in the candlelight.
This was not the Ginny he remembered from a month past. She reached for him, pulled him into a furious hug, leaning into him as she held him tight. He stood there flabbergasted and a little drunk, hardly believing what was happening. He wrapped his arms around her and held her as if he never wanted to let go. Before he knew it she'd pulled him into his room and closed the door.
Ginny pressed her lips to his ear and breathed, "Will you just lie with me tonight and let me look at you?" He couldn't make his mouth work so he nodded. She carefully pushed him onto the bed. As she crawled onto the bed after him, he caught a glimpse of the silhouette of her body through her pyjamas. As the blue and orange flame continued to dance a slow tango on the wick across the room, the vision of her silhouette burned itself into his mind and made him wish that he could banish the thin layer of silk that stood between him and her. As she nestled next to him she quietly traced her fingers over the scars from his chest to the tops of his trousers. Ginny had always owned a quiet fierce passion but never had her touch created the breathlessness that this evening's caresses were responsible for.
"I'm sorry Harry," she sighed as she continued to run her fingers along the scars. "I consider myself brave. I promised myself for months while you were gone that no matter what happened I would be there for you and love you. I had these fantastic visions of you coming home broken and I'd be there to make it all better."
"When you struck him down I was so happy and proud. I just knew you were going to come to me and tell me how much you loved me and that it was all over." He was having a hard time concentrating. As she stroked the scars he felt his anticipation grow. She seemed unaware of the power she now held over him. Her touch along with the alcohol made it nearly impossible to listen. He knew what she was saying was important so he used every ounce of resolve to force his attention to it. "...I tried to find you all afternoon. I was sure you'd be wandering the school grounds."
"Then Mum raced to me and explained what the Death Eaters were doing and we went to help. By the time I was home Hermione was there and she looked so worried. When Madame Pomfrey came out of my room and hugged her I knew something was very, very wrong." Harry felt a tear drop onto his chest. It was warm and it began to slowly roll down his chest until it met her cheek. "I was so determined to sneak in and help. I had this fantasy in my head that you were hurt and that only I could take care of you the way you needed. And when...when..." Harry felt the tears fall to his chest more quickly but she made no effort to wipe them off. She just let them pool near her cheek. "...when I saw you lying there in the bed you looked like a wraith. I once read Lord of the Rings, Hermione gave it to me, and you reminded me of this creature that was alive but nearly a walking corpse. I had nightmares for days. I had dreams that you would just die in here and be all alone." He wrapped her tighter in his arms when he felt the tears begin to come as a stream.
"It's so easy to be brave when you see the one you love whole. Bleeding? Yes. A boneless arm? Yes. The gashes and bruises and concussions were all there but you were always Harry. When I saw you on that bed scorched and torn, though, I felt like I'd lost you. You were not just hurt but you were absent. Your eyes were vacant. It reminded me of someone at St. Mungo's in the Mental Ward. And I couldn't take it."
All this time, Harry lied there silently listening - taking in the flicker of the light, the touch of her skin and the scent of her hair. He didn't know if she was waiting for him to say something but he was taking it all in and his senses were overwhelmed. He was caught between feelings of joy and regret. He'd been so worried about what she might think about him that he didn't consider she'd worry about what he thought.
"Harry," she raised her head so he could look into her eyes. "I understand why you've done what you've done. I love that you love those around you so much that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for them. I wonder though, is there any way eventually that you could sacrifice a little less of yourself and perhaps we could try to live a somewhat normal life?"
The question took him by surprise.
"You've played the hero so often I just fear that one day I will be sitting at home with our children and I'll receive a very sombre knock at the door. I don't want to sound greedy but I'd like to spend many, many happy evenings with you," the last part was a whisper.
"I understand. I love you Ginny. I realised while we were on the run that I didn't want to live without you. Leaving you here last August was one of the hardest things to...Ginny?"
He could hear her breathe in and out softly. He fell asleep soon after. His head was buried in her hair. With each breath before he finally nodded off he happily took in the fresh scent.
The next morning was a bright one and it was made even more so by the wide open curtains in Harry's room. He woke up to find Ginny still draped across his shirtless body. She was still in her pyjamas...actually a nearly sheer gown that was probably more revealing than she realised in the direct sunlight. Also hanging nearby was the shirt he wore the previous evening. He didn't know who had hung the shirt on the wardrobe but he imagined none of the options were good. What was worse was that he needed to use the loo immediately if not sooner and he'd have to wake Ginny to do this.
"Ginny," he whispered, "I need to get up."
"Hmmm? Amm Nom Night Non..." She rambled incoherently in her sleep.
"Ginny," he said more loudly. This time she batted her eyes open contentedly, "Good morning," she purred.
"Good morning. I hate to ask you to move but I really, really need to get up."
"Oh," she said. She jumped up so quickly she nearly took the breath out of him. Suddenly she became frightfully aware that her pyjamas were not nearly as modest as she was. Harry's mouth hung in a perpetual "Oh." She instinctively grabbed a sheet from the bed to cover herself and once she did she regained some of her cheek, "Show's over. Now go up while I figure some way to sneak back to my room with some portion of my dignity."
Breakfast was mostly quiet. Harry found himself nursing a headache and Ron was fairing no better. Ginny quietly buttered her toast and then covered it with a healthy portion of jam. When she caught Harry's eye she winked, hypnotising him with her beautiful brown eyes and her ginger hair that he just wanted to run his fingers through and...
"Harry. You will be at the Ministry all day for training?" asked Mrs. Weasley as she sat next to Ron and prepared her plate.
"Yes, ma'am," answered Harry. He still had his eyes on Ginny as she was smiling with those beautiful lips.
"Excellent. Harry? Was the training extremely tiresome yesterday?" asked Mrs. Weasley.
"Yes ma'am."
"I can imagine. Which is why I didn't mind so much when I found your shirt on the floor of the sitting room this morning." The same thought must have flashed in both Harry's and Ginny's heads at once because Molly now had their undivided attention. "I'd really appreciate it if you could take your clothes to your room, though, from now on, because it helps keep the Burrow clean. I went ahead and hung it on the wardrobe this morning for you."
Harry nodded, "Yes ma'am," and he paid particular attention to his eggs hoping she wouldn't notice the flush of his cheeks.
And Harry? When I was in your room I found something that is very important to me that had made its way in there...probably by mistake." Mrs. Weasley's eyes travelled from Harry to Ginny and then back to Harry in such a way that he had no doubt what she was referring to. "Harry, you know that you are like family but I consider some things in my house to be treasures. I don't mind you holding them on occasion, if you love them as much as I do, but I'd appreciate if you'd make sure that the treasure in question stays in its package and that you don't take it into your room in the future. If you show me that you love it as much as I do and you can treat it with respect then maybe one day Arthur and I will give it to you as a gift," she said the last part with a smile. "Is that ok?"
He smiled and from across the table he took her hand, "Thank you."
As Mrs. Weasley's eyes began to mist over Ron was still trying to get a grasp of what had just been discussed, "What is she talking about mate? You weren't reading one of her books were you? She hates it when you take the dust jackets off the covers. Don't understand why you'd read that rubbish anyway...it's all lovey dovey witch drivel..."
Ginny was less dense and more flustered. Under her breath no-one heard her complain, "And now I'm an it? A gift to be given?" She decided at that moment that Harry would have a more difficult time keeping Mrs. Weasley's greatest treasure in its package than either he or Mrs. Weasley bargained.