Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Early the next morning, as Harry sat eating his breakfast, green flames erupted in the fireplace. Ron stepped out, and Harry quickly made a second cup of tea. Ron sat down next to Harry, who prompted him to begin talking immediately.
"Okay, so Mum's making dinner and I'm writing a letter to Charlie, right? And then George comes in (mind you, he's been living in the flat above the shop since he disappeared), so Mum starts asking him what's wrong; she was really worried, of course, he was really upset. And Mum's trying to get him to talk, but he wouldn't. And then he broke the dishes she was holding. I think he got annoyed or something, I dunno.I think Ginny was able to get it out of him, but I'm not sure."
A second burst of green flame came out of the fireplace and Ginny arrived, brushing soot out of her hair as she climbed through.
"Hi Harry. I actually did get George to talk. Apparently, he was making Skiving Snackboxes and something went wrong. He's not sure what, but there was an explosion. Bottom line is that he wants to quit. No joke shop. No pranks. No inventing."
"But he can't stop," said Harry. "I mean, he's hired people and everything. The shop's doing great. It was just one small mistake, I'm sure he can fix it."
"One small mistake?" Ginny asked sadly. She sat down in the chair across from Ron and slumped onto the table, her face in her hands. "It's the recipe," she said, after a moment's pause. "It's very exact, very fast paced. The timing has to be perfect. He showed me the parchment. Some ingredients have to be put in one after the other, but the second prepared only seconds before it's added. It takes two people to make."
There was a heavy silence as her words sunk in, broken only by the third eruption of green flames in the fireplace. Hermione stepped out this time, looking worried and holding a magazine in her hand.
"Mrs. Weasley said you two had come over here," she said, as though that explained everything. "I was just at Diagon Alley and noticed the shop's not open. Is there something wrong?"
They all nodded, and Ginny and Ron re-explained the entire unheartening situation.
"Oh no," said Hermione. "We've got to convince him to go back."
"We can't just convince him to go back," Ginny said, shaking her head. "It'll take at least a week for him to even want to leave the Burrow again."
"It's better than last time," Ron said, giving a slight shrug, and they rest nodded in agreement. Much to everyone's surprise, George had not completely isolated himself after the battle, but instead had certain set-offs that would cause him to refuse to do anything for awhile. The lengths were unpredictable and the severity of the reaction didn't often match what had caused it. The worse of these had been just after the war, when he'd hardly done anything for three weeks, and just before he'd gone missing and started living in the flat above the shop again, he'd had another bout that lasted two weeks.
"We should still go talk to him," said Hermione, but as she said this, Ginny began shaking her head furiously.
"That'll only make it worse. He's already talked about it once, we need to give him a break. From the looks of it, the shop's big enough of a commitment for him to have to return eventually. It might even be less than week before he goes back."
At this point, Harry realised that everyone was sipping tea expect Hermione, and stood up to get her a cup. Hermione saw this and followed Harry into the kitchen. As he poured the tea she held to magazine out to him. It was Witch Weekly. With mild curiosity, he scanned the front page.
"Just thought you ought to know," she said, gesturing toward the bottom-left corner. It featured a picture of him and Ginny walking past the Leaky Cauldron, holding hands. Someone must have been looking out the window and snapped the photo, judging by the grime that obscured part of the moving image.
"At least we can go to Diagon Alley," said Harry, shrugging.
"Ginny might not take it so well, just so know," said Hermione, and she took the mug from Harry, and they exited the kitchen.
"What's this?" asked Ginny politely pointing to the far corner of the table, where Harry had left the picture of Lily with the cat.
"My parents left a few pictures with the letters," he told Ron and Hermione, then explained what he'd found to Ginny, something he'd forgotten to do the day before. He passed the photo to them, and they all gave a small laugh at the humoring scene.
"That scarf looks really good on her," Ginny commented.
"I feel like I've seen it before," said Hermione.
"Me too," Harry admitted. "I just don't know where."
"Oh, woah. Hi everyone." Sirius had appeared in his portrait, grinning down at them from the wall. "What's going on?"
Harry told Sirius about the pictures and held up the photo.
"I remember that scarf! James gave it to her for Christmas in seventh year. She wore all the time. Such a shame when she lost it, though. I think it was when they were still discussing who to be Secret Keeper," he added, with a hint of bitterness in his voice at the distant mention of Wormtail.
"Maybe someone found and you've seen them wearing it," Ginny suggested. Hermione, however did not seem to have heard her.
"Hogwarts…? I don't think so. Where else?"
Hogwarts… that's where Harry had seen that scarf before. "Lucy!" he exclaimed. "Lucy has a green scarf just like that!"
"Her scarf is green?" asked Ron. "It's so dirty I could hardly tell."
"There must be hundreds of scarves like it, though," said Sirius.
"But it all fits so well," argued Hermione.
"It's still worth finding out. Kreacher?" The elf Apparated with a CRACK and bowed to Harry. "I want you to take the elf Lucy to St. Mungo's to see if her memory can be recovered. Do you understand?"
"Master is wishing that Lucy is remembering and Kreacher is having to take her to St. Mungo's," he repeated dutifully.
"And one more thing," Harry added before the elf could leave. "Make sure they know I'm paying." He might not enjoy being famous, and certainly did not enjoy abusing his power, but he wasn't entirely sure if house-elves were allowed at St. Mungo's, and thought it best to give the healers more incentive.
"I have to leave," said Ron, standing up. "But I'll see you later." It was Saturday again, so the three were going to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch.
"I do too. Bye Harry, see at lunch," Hermione said cheerfully, already scooping Floo into her hand. Once they were gone, Harry turned to Ginny. He held out the magazine that Hermione had left and let her see the cover.
"Now you won't want to date me," she said sadly, drooping.
"Why do you think that? And don't tell me what you did yesterday, you didn't look like you believed it."
Ginny seemed to droop even lower, though Harry doubted that it was possible.
"It's the nightmares," she said through a sigh. "You'd think it'd be something from the actual war, the Battle of Hogwarts, but no!" She waved an exasperated hand in the air. "It has to be from the stupid Chamber of Secrets!"
Harry placed his hand on her shoulder in what he hoped was a consoling manner. He too had experienced the teenage Voldemort. He was oddly charming by character and far too easy to believe. Though he didn't know what he had said to her, he could imagine it.
"He just kept saying, again and again, 'He won't come back. Harry Potter won't come back.' But you proved him wrong. You did come back. Again, and again, and again. Harry Potter always comes back. And you know what? I'm gonna figure out this whole lucid dreaming thing and hex off his face next time he tries to sneak in." She drained the last of her tea and stood up. "I should probably leave too."
"Want to go to Diagon Alley on Monday?" Harry asked, catching his chance while he still could.
"Oh, sure." She turned to the fireplace, but as Harry was standing right there, she bumped into him. She stopped walking, but did not back away, and Harry found himself mere inches from her, their toes almost touching. With little else to do, he wrapped her into an awkward embrace that lasted a few seconds too long. As Ginny made to walk around him, he pulled his arms around her once more, causing their faces to become level.
"Thank's for telling me," he said. She studied him for a moment, as though deciding what course of action to take. Then, with little warning, she closed the distance between their faces and kissed him. She pulled away too quickly for Harry to fully respond, leaving him bewildered but pleased.
"That was for yesterday," she said, before being swept away in a swirl of green flames.
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"It took you soooo long to pick up on that," said Sirius, for what seemed to be the hundredth time. As soon as Ginny had left, Harry had endured a full lecture about every single thing he had done wrong. "She clearly bumped into you on purpose."
"You've already said that."
"Maybe I should give you lessons."
"Please don't."
"There are several ways girls communicate that they want to kiss. The least likely option is, of course, verbal, because that can come off as desperate. Therefore, most girls refer to body language such as…"
"I'm going to read the next letter now," Harry called over his shoulder as he set off for his room.
"I'm up here, too," Sirius reminded Harry as he walked through the door.
"That can easily be remedied." Harry pulled the canvas off the wall and walked back into the hallway.
"No! Wait! Where are you taking me? I'll stop talking, okay?"
"Thank you," said Harry, turning back into his room and replacing the portrait. He took the top letter from the stack and quickly counted the remaining envelopes. There were eight.
Dear Harry,
Merry Christmas! You're halfway done with Hogwarts! Which means you really have to pay attention in class now. The second half is more important, what with OWLs and NEWTs.
Don't forget about the snowball thing. It is pretty cool. As long as you don't make a giant snowball with it. I didn't do that on purpose! I'm not saying you did. I'm just saying that you should recognize how heavy it is and not throw it at someone. You were fine. Physically, yes, but emotionally? I'll never look at a snow drift the same way. And I'll never look at a lily the same way again. You're right, you feel the unnecessary need to bring one home anytime you see it, even though you know I'm allergic to pollen. It's kind of ironic… No, it's not. I shouldn't have to take the potion in the middle of winter because of you randomly conjuring them in the front yard to add a touch of color. It looks nice. My nasal passageways would beg to differ. I'm sure they would. Oh wait, we're still writing this letter. You forgot? It is just like a normal conversation. It is.
We love you, Harry. Don't you ever forget that.
Love,
Mum & Dad
Harry looked up from the parchment, intrigued. Sirius was still in his portrait, dead silent for fear of being taken out of the room.
"Did my dad ever hit Mum with a giant snowball?" he asked. The letter certainly made it seem that way.
"Oh, yes," said Sirius jovially. "And just after she'd seen us first transform, too. It was quite funny." And Sirius recounted the story of how James had once tried to start a snowball fight by throwing one at Lily, but from a distance, which proved a mistake. "She woke up early and took his glasses the next morning, but James always had an extra pair somewhere, so he was fine," finished Sirius.
Harry studied the parchment again, rereading certain bits. Even though the charmed quill hadn't shown their laughter on the page, Harry could hear it clearly. The laugh in Lily's voice as she recalled the memories, James chuckling between phrases. It was all there, on the parchment, and Harry couldn't have asked for better presents.
2,118 words! This is the longest chapter! Gime'SS and ragsweas, thanks for the reviews. delia, this chapter should have answered your questions. Thank you all for reading, and please review.