24. Fame

Harry stumbled out of the kitchen fireplace, cursing the invention and trying not to fall flat on his face. To his surprise, there was no one in the kitchen and with a sinking heart that he realised that he couldn’t expect Molly to be in there. He was about to head up the stairs when raised voices from the living room caught his attention. He paused in the hallway, recognising Percy’s voice. At first, he couldn’t make out what the argument was about and so he decided to go on up the stairs but then he heard first his name and then Ginny’s. He stopped, one foot on the bottom step, straining to catch what Percy was saying.

“-well then, why is she in St Mungo’s right now?” Harry’s heart sank. He knew the answer to that question; because of him. It sounded like Percy knew it too. He took his foot off the bottom step and leaned back against the wall, tipping his head back to rest on it and willing the tears not to fall. He was jolted out of his self loathing by a new, louder voice.

“Because Goyle’s an idiot,” said Ron scathingly.

“Yes, but why did Goyle go after her?” insisted Percy. Harry knew the answer to that question too; because of him. He sighed heavily.

“What’s your point?” demanded George’s voice suddenly.

“Well if she wasn’t inv-”

“I can’t believe you’re blaming Harry for this,” Harry heard Hermione say quietly. He’d heard enough and stepped into the room.

“Hermione, can you help me with something, please?” he asked, watching with satisfaction as seven heads whipped around in surprise and Percy turned purple with embarrassment. “Mum sent me to get Ginny’s things. I think you’d have a better idea of what she needs than I do.”

“Does she need to stay in?” asked Ron, jumping up. Harry shrugged wearily.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, “maybe. Mum sent me home because they wouldn’t let any of us in to see her and I … sort of shattered three of the light fittings in the waiting room.” Harry ran a hand through his hair as he grimaced wryly. Ron smirked.

“So it could have just been an excuse to get you out of there?” asked Hermione gently. Harry nodded. He wasn’t so blind that he hadn’t worked that out. He had protested at first, not wanting to leave Ginny, however he soon realised that refusing to do something that helped Ginny didn’t look anywhere near as dedicated as it felt. And that was how he found himself pushed through a Floo by Molly Weasley. When he’d finished his musing he realised Hermione was still talking.

“Well, she’ll want something to change into in any case,” she muttered as she gathered up a pile of books. “And I expect a hairbrush will be handy.” Hermione kept talking as she left the room, patting Harry absently on the shoulder as she passed by him in the doorway, her pile of books teetering ominously.

“I will go and ‘elp ‘er,” said Fleur as she rose from her seat. Harry leaned against the doorway as she passed. She stopped and turned back to him, reaching up to touch his cheek. “She weel be alright ‘Arry. Teddy, ‘e ees fine and Andromeda sends Ginny ‘er love.”

Harry just looked away from her, staring into space and hoping he didn’t start crying, wishing desperately that he wasn’t there, that he could just see Ginny. He didn’t know how she was, he didn’t understand why he’d been unable to see her and the worry was growing in the pit of his stomach. Fleur was gone but Harry didn’t move. He was roused from his stupor only by Ron touching his arm.

“Come and sit down, mate,” he said softly and Harry let himself be led to a chair near the fireplace. He sank into it and dropped his head into his hands. No one said anything for a moment.

“How’s Dora?” Harry asked suddenly.

“She’s fine,” said Ron. “We got some kind of potion for her, but she’ll be fine.”

“Thanks,” muttered Harry.

“Having a dog is just not as simple as a Pygmy Puff,” said Percy officiously. Harry jerked his head up and looked at Percy as he once again began droning about responsible pet ownership.

“Why did you come anyway, Percy?” he asked, startling himself. He had not intended to voice his thoughts. Percy stopped talking and closed his mouth with a snap. “Was it just to debate whether or not Ginny and I can take care of a dog?”

The room fell silent and Harry suddenly regretted his outburst. Starting a war with Ginny’s brother was a sure way to mess things up. He fell silent. Percy, on the other hand, seemed to suddenly have a lot to say.

“Well, that’s just the thing, isn’t it?” he began. “Why do you and Ginny even have a dog? You don’t have any business having a pet together! She’s only seventeen and she’s obviously still a target for all sorts of nefarious characters! No doubt that was brought about by the reckless disdain for authority which she shows. I wonder where she learned that?” Harry just stared at him. Percy wasn’t subtle.

“Percy, I’ll see you outside,” interrupted Charlie. He looked dangerous, his burly forearms flexed as he jerked his thumb towards the door.

“I really don’t think-”

“No, you don’t,” said George as he pulled Percy to the door in one swift motion. Percy was flung about like a fish on the end of a fishing line and Harry couldn’t help noticing that George didn’t move quite the same as he used to. He rather fancied that if Fred had been there Percy would have been frog marched stiffly through the door, a twin on either side. As it was, George had him by one arm and hauled him ungracefully through the doorway, bumping Percy into the door frame on the way out.

“Be careful!” called Bill as Harry heard the kitchen door swing open. “Don’t spill any blood; Mum doesn’t need another child in St Mungo’s right now!”

“Sorry,” murmured Harry miserably to Ron and Bill.

“What for?” asked Ron. “It’s not like it’s your fault he’s still an idiot.”

“But it is my fault Ginny’s in St Mungo’s right now,” Harry said.

“Oh that’s rubbish,” Ron scoffed. “She’s there because she didn’t tell her secrets. She’s there because no one believed her when she said someone was watching her. If it’s anyone’s fault it’s ours. We could have listened to her. Perhaps if we listened to her more she’d tell us more of her secrets.”

“You believed her didn’t you Harry?” asked Bill gently. Harry nodded. “You believed someone was watching her.”

“Yeah, we thought it was just a reporter or something though.”

“You get her, Harry,” said Ron. “You get her in a way we don’t.”

“Do you know why she got that detention?” Harry asked them bitterly. Ron and Bill shook their heads. “Snape saw her with a picture of us, under a tree. It looks a bit like my Mum and Dad.”

“Oh, I’ve seen that one,” admitted Bill. “It’s a nice photo, until you start kissing her.” Harry blushed and Bill grinned at him.

“Shove off,” Harry muttered. “She got that three week detention because Snape saw her with that photo; because she was with me.”

“Well, you can’t blame yourself for that, Harry,” said Ron reasonably. “It’s not like you handed out the detention personally. I can imagine you with the power to give detention. Malfoy, you’re breathing! Detention, with Hagrid, in the Forest and whatever crazy animal he’s cooked up today!” Harry smiled in spite of himself and he wondered if he’d be able to give a detention in the course of his alleged supervisory duties. He’d have to ask McGonagall.

“You’re going to have to stand up to Percy, you know,” said Bill suddenly, breaking into his thoughts. “About Ginny. Charlie and George aren’t going to convince him.”

“Oh, and somehow I am,” snorted Harry.

“Well, you managed to convince me,” said Bill. “Last night, you pretty much told me to watch everything you did. So I did. You stood up for her, when she was upset she was your first priority. You apologised for holding things up; you thanked her for helping you. You treat her the way I want my sister to be treated; like she’s the most important person in the world.”

“You treat her the way Bill treats Fleur,” said Ron. “But you have got to shut Percy up.”

“But … I-”

“If it was anyone else but Percy would you have told him off by now?” demanded Ron.

“Probably,” muttered Harry.

“So why not Percy?” insisted Ron. “He’s being a right git.”

“Oh yes, that’s good form isn’t it?” said Harry sarcastically. “Hello, Percy, I think it’s great that you are willing to talk to your family again, so why don’t you shut up?” Hearing footsteps on the stairs he got up and strode to the door, running into Hermione who was carrying a small bag.

“Here you go Harry,” she said, handing it to him. “Anything Ginny needs should be in there.”

“Thanks,” Harry murmured. “I’ll just head back-”

“Talk to Percy first,” said Ron.

“Just leave it, Ron,” snapped Harry. “I’m not about to start a fight with Percy. It’s the last thing anyone needs right now.”

“It doesn’t have to be a fight,” insisted Ron. “Just tell him. That’s the end of it.”

“It won’t be the end of it though Ron,” said Harry miserably.

“What are you on about?” demanded Ron.

“Well, Percy isn’t about to let Harry tell him what to do is he?” interjected Hermione. “He’s older than Harry for a start and to Percy that means he’s got seniority.”

“Seniority?” gaped Ron. “Who cares about bloody seniority?”

“Language, Ron,” said Hermione mildly. Harry just watched as Ron and Hermione threw sentences back and forth. “He’s older and therefore he thinks he knows better than Harry and that Harry should look up to him.”

“Look up to Percy?”

“Yes, he’s probably convinced that he is wise enough to understand just about everything.”

“If anyone should be doing any looking up to anyone, Percy should be looking up to Harry!” said Ron rolling his eyes at her.

“Besides, I don’t think it’s sunk in yet that Ginny’s an adult,” said Hermione, crossing her arms defiantly.

“She’s seventeen, how can he get around that fact!”

“Well, Percy wasn’t there, in fact he’s missed the last three years hasn’t he? As far as he’s concerned Ginny’s probably still fourteen!”

“So, she had a boyfriend then too!”

“Oh I think it was a bit different to the relationship she has with Harry,” said Hermione. “Besides, it’s not like you didn’t have a problem with that.”

“Well I only had a problem because it was Michael and not Harry!”

“Percy would have had a problem with Harry,” mused Hermione. Ron snorted.

“They’ve forgotten we’re here,” said Bill conversationally to Harry.

“They do that,” answered Harry, smiling. He had thought that the arguing would diminish once Ron and Hermione got together but he’d been witness to numerous small squabbles in the past weeks and now Harry wondered if it wasn’t something they enjoyed in a way he simply did not understand. Conflict was definitely not Harry’s thing.

“Getting back to the point-”

“Yes, Hermione, what was the point?”

Hermione huffed and put her hands on her hips.

“Percy will be offended if Harry tells him what to do-”

“Who cares?”

“- and it will start a fight,” continued Hermione as if Ron had not spoken.

“Who cares?” repeated Ron. “Percy’ll get over it, eventually.” Hermione looked sideways at Harry.

“Well, Ron, perhaps you are comfortable with family fighting but,” she paused and Harry stiffened and turned away.

“Yeah, it never lasts long,” said Ron carelessly. “Bit of a dust up, move on; clears the air in no time at all really. Unless you are Percy the git, takes a bit longer then.”

“Well, I’ve never had a sibling exactly,” began Hermione, “but I assume that’s how it is with most siblings, yes.” She stopped and Harry sensed she was biting her lip. Bill came to her rescue.

“How do you think Harry feels about fighting in his family, Ron?”

“Percy’s only been back for a couple of months, Ron,” added Hermione. Harry knew that everything Hermione and Bill said was true. He didn’t want to fight with Percy and not just because everyone was on tenterhooks at the moment. If he caused a rift with Percy and it made him leave, it would cause untold pain. Harry wasn’t comfortable with family fighting; it had never cleared the air at the Dursley’s. His mind wandered briefly to the Dursleys. They were another thing he needed to sort out before he went back to school. He should see Dudley at least. He forced his attention back to the conversation still going on in the living room.

“- but we’d back him up,” Ron was saying. “Perce’s lost his last ally.”

“Percy doesn’t back down without a fight,” insisted Bill. “He may seem a bit … ineffectual, but he’s as stubborn as the rest of us.”

“You told Harry to stand up to him!”

“I know that,” sighed Bill, “but Hermione’s got a point.”

“Look,” interrupted Harry. “I’m not doing anything about it right now. So just let it go.” He sighed and went into the kitchen to Floo back to St Mungo’s. Percy was sitting at the kitchen table, his arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Charlie was leaning against one of the sideboards and George was tilting a chair back on its back legs and drawing pictures in the air with the tip of his wand. All three were silent and appeared to have arrived at some sort of standoff. Harry didn’t say anything either, he only reached for the pot of Floo powder. Taking one last look at the scene in the kitchen, Harry stood poised to scoop up a handful of Floo powder when Ron came bursting into the kitchen.

“Harry! Wait!” Harry looked up questioningly and Ron brandished the small wallet containing the Auror medallion at him.

“Er, you left without this before,” Ron explained, handing the wallet to Harry.

“Thanks,” Harry mumbled, taking it and stuffing it in the back pocket of his jeans.

“What is that anyway?” asked George. “And why’d it make Malfoy look like he was about to wet himself?” Harry exchanged a look with Ron who raised his eyebrows as if to ask Harry if he was going to reveal its contents. Harry shook his head imperceptibly but before he could think of something to say to George, Percy spoke up.

“It’s an Auror medallion wallet,” he said. “Where did you get one of those Harry? They are highly regulated. Not something a person can go about liberating and using without authorisation. Not even you.”

“That’s a bit rich-”

“It’s Harry’s!” Ron interrupted George forcefully. “It’s got his name on it!”

“Harry’s?” Charlie sounded surprised and Harry could see the curiosity on their faces as he looked around the room. Bill and Fleur had come to stand in the doorway and George had sat up straight, the legs of the chair thumping to the ground. Percy broke the silence that had fallen.

“Honestly Ron, they don’t go handing out Auror medallions like sweets from the Hogwarts Express Trolley,” he said disdainfully.

“Are you calling me a liar?” demanded Ron. “You waltz out of our lives for years and then you waltz back in and think you can take up where you left off just because we’re all in a state of shock? You think no one will notice if you’re being a git?”

“Really Ronald-”

“Don’t you Ronald me!” shouted Ron. “You haven’t changed at all! You’re still calling Harry a liar! For Merlin’s sake Percy, you were there! You saw him with Hagrid, you saw him defeat that ugly bastard! What is it going to take with you?”

“You would hold past errors against me, Ronald?” Percy seemed irritatingly calm. Harry was feeling decidedly not calm but Ron gave him no room to express it.

“Past errors? That’s what you call them?” Ron said menacingly. “You called Harry unbalanced and violent!”

“Yes, well at the time-”

“Yeah at the time, well what about now, what is your excuse now?”

“I think I have just a little bit more experience with The Ministry than you do, Ronald, and I am telling you that access to those wallets is very stringent,” said Percy, starting to look a little bit irate. “I think it’s perfectly reasonable to ask Harry how he came by it.” All eyes in the room swivelled to Harry and he carefully put the pot of Floo powder back on the mantelpiece.

“Would it matter, Percy?” he asked quietly. “Would it matter if I told you or are you going to keep looking for a reason, any reason to question me about every little move I make?”

“Who cares, Harry,” said George. “Tell us, I want to know!”

“George?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Shut up.”

“Right you are Harry!” George fell silent but he was grinning from ear to where his other ear would have been and looking as though he’d been waiting for this all year. Harry put down the bag Hermione had packed for Ginny and crossed his arms, leaning casually against the kitchen table so that he towered over the still seated Percy.

“Do you remember The Minister?” asked Harry conversationally. “Big bloke, nice voice according to Witch Weekly? Very little hair?” Percy just looked at him stoically.

“I know him!” piped up George. “Lovely bloke, used to come ‘round for tea. Oh, but of course Percy, you missed that. Right about the same time you missed Harry here as he was proved trustworthy and Ginny, you know … growing up.” Harry did not notice the fireplace start to flare just behind him.

“George?”

“Yes, Harry?”

“Shut up.” George gave a salute with a cheeky little grin.

“Well, it just so happens that one of the people authorised to hand out Auror medallions, like this one,” said Harry as he pulled out the wallet and flipped it open under Percy’s nose, “is The Minster. At least I am assuming he is because he’s the one who gave it to me. So forgive me if I think I came by it legitimately.” Percy seemed determined to remain unimpressed and his face twitched only a little as Harry left the medallion swinging in Percy’s face.

“When did you see Kingsley, Harry?” said Arthur. Harry spun around with a start.

“Er, this afternoon, at Hogwarts,” he said quickly. “How’s Ginny?”

“She’ll be through the Floo any minute,” Arthur said, smiling. Harry stuffed the wallet back into his pocket.

“Is she alright then?” he asked and Arthur nodded.

“The Healer eventually cleared her; she’s more embarrassed than anything else. So you lot,” Arthur eyed his sons in turn, “just keep your thoughts to yourself.” Ginny’s brothers murmured and shuffled their feet in gestures that Harry took to mean they’d do as they’d been told. The Floo flared to life and Harry and Arthur took a step back to allow Ginny followed closely by her mother to step out. As soon as she was clear of the fireplace Molly started brushing ash from Ginny’s hair and shoulders and generally fussing over her daughter. Ginny stood stock still, her hands shoved in her pockets, studying the floor intently.

“I thought we’d never get out of there,” said Molly, moving to brush ash from Arthur. “Honestly the amount of paperwork those Healers can generate defies belief. They had me sign at least six pieces of paper before they realised Ginny is of age and then she had to sign them all again.

“Oh hello, Percy dear. It’s lovely to see you. George sit on that chair properly, legs down! Here Ron, you take this bag back upstairs and fetch Hermione and see if her parents would like to join us. Bill, stop slouching in that doorway and let your wife into the kitchen to sit down, let’s all have a cup of hot chocolate. Charlie, if you insist on leaning on the sideboard, get the cups out of it.” Molly spoke and moved like a whirlwind as she moved through the kitchen, ending up at the stove, her wand working frantically to pour milk and measure cocoa.

“Come on, everybody sit,” Molly said pulling out a random chair as if to prove her point. “We’ll have a cup of hot chocolate and then it’s bed for everyone I think, it’s been a long day.”

Harry stood uncertainly for a moment as Ginny continued to study the floor. He hadn’t seen Ginny since they’d arrived at St Mungo’s several hours earlier. Harry Potter arriving with a young woman in his arms had the distinct disadvantage of calling unwanted attention to them but also had the distinct benefit of having them whisked quickly through the reception area, bypassing the line in front of the Welcome Witch and heading straight to the Fourth Floor. Ginny had been levitated into a tiny room; the door banging shut on Harry and her parents with a finality that could not be denied.

Now, back at home, Ginny was still wearing the clothes he’d last seen her in and although she looked tired and rumpled she did not look as pale as she had then. But she looked so closed off that at first Harry was unsure what to do. Then she looked up at him and it was all the prompting he needed to reach out and pull her into a hug.

“Alright?” he murmured into her hair as she buried her face into his neck, sliding her arms around his waist. She nodded imperceptibly as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. They stood on the hearth in silence, the clang of a spoon stirring the hot cholcoate and the thud of Charlie setting out a row of cups the only sounds. When he heard the chairs scraping on the floor and the soft pop as the flame on the stove went out Harry knew that the hot chocolate was ready. Reaching a hand around his body he grasped one of Ginny’s hands and pulled her to the table. She sat down, letting her hair fall like a curtain around her face. It tore at his heart to see Ginny so unsure of herself and Harry reached out and gently pulled her hair back, tucking it behind her ear and trailing his hand down to caress the back of her neck. With his free hand he pushed a cup of hot chocolate into her hands and Ginny raised it to her lips, giving him a wan smile as she took a sip.

Letting out a small sigh of relief Harry picked up his own cup. No one had said anything for such a long time that Harry was startled when Ginny suddenly spoke.

“Is Dora alright?”

“Yeah, she’s fine,” said Ron, waltzing back into the kitchen and snatching a biscuit as his mother brought a large plate of them to the table. “The witch at the Magical Menagerie said that the adra … adri-”

“Adrenaline rush,” interjected Hermione from the doorway.

“Yeah that,” continued Ron, “helped protect her or something.” He stuffed the entire biscuit in his mouth as he sat down and pulled a cup towards himself.

“ ‘Mnotgonnap’tendIknowwhashmen’,” he mumbled, barely audible and spraying crumbs across the table.

“You’re disgusting, Ron,” said Ginny wrinkling her nose and flicking a crumb back at him.

“So, Harry,” said Charlie, “are you going to finish your story now?”

“What story is that?” asked Ginny. Harry felt all eyes in the room on him.

“Have you got your Hogwarts letter, Harry?” asked Hermione suddenly. Harry nodded and drank a mouthful of hot chocolate, wondering where to start.

“Well, have you opened it mate?” demanded Ron. “Where is it?” For one heart stopping moment Harry couldn’t remember what he’d done with it. Then he realised that it was still in the pocket of the rather ragged looking robes that he was still wearing over his jeans and T shirt. Hastily, he searched for the letter, finally pulling out a now crumpled parchment envelope. Harry deliberately placed the envelope carefully on the table in front of him.

“At this rate it’ll be time to get on the Express,” muttered Ron. “For Merlin’s sake Harry, open it or I will!”

“You seem awfully keen to see that opened, Ron,” said Harry with a cheeky grin.

“Well it’s just dragging it out, isn’t it,” stated Ron rationally. “Sooner you open that and put Hermione out of her misery, sooner we can get back to when you saw Kingsley and explain what’s in your pocket.”

“What on earth are you talking about, Ron?” asked Ginny irritably.

“Harry has an Auror’s medallion,” said Percy, looking as though he had just swallowed a lemon, “which is a curious circumstance.”

“Have you really, Harry?” asked Arthur sitting up sharply. Harry nodded and pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to Arthur.

“But I thought you were going back to Hogwarts?” said Molly frowning. Harry nodded and sipped his hot chocolate. He knew he was driving them all mad with curiosity and smiled slightly.

“I saw Hagrid today,” he began conversationally. “He and Grawp both looked well.” Ron growled at him.

“The Castle’s looking in excellent shape,” he continued. Ginny reached over and snatched his Hogwarts letter. Harry laughed. “Oi! That’s my letter! You can’t open my post!”

“Stop me,” she said as she stretched her arm out to put the letter out of his reach. Harry reached across her to try and grab the letter but she laughed and leapt out of her seat, darting across the kitchen. She stood breathless at the other end of the kitchen holding the letter and slowly running a finger towards the seal. Harry gave chase and, completely ignoring the rest of her family still sitting at the table, he pinned her to the edge of the kitchen sink with his body as she squealed and tried to get away, the letter hidden behind her back.

Harry reached both arms around her, his fingers closing on the letter and he could feel her breath on his neck. His eyes travelled up the length of her neck and along her cheekbone until he lost himself in her eyes. They were sparkling with mischief and he was acutely aware of the way her chest heaved against his own. His eyes travelled down to her lips and he felt drawn to them and bent his head to kiss her. He was inches from her lips when suddenly someone cleared their throat and Harry jerked his head up quickly, blushing as he remembered where he was. With a triumphant smirk he wrestled the letter from Ginny’s grasp and held it above his head.

Ginny put her hands on his chest and Harry thought he’d die from the exquisite torture as she stroked his torso where her family couldn’t see what she was doing to him. He twisted away from her with great difficulty and made a big show of opening the letter. Percy was scowling at him but he pretended not to notice as he pulled a sheaf of parchment from the envelope. As he unfolded it something fell from the folded sheets and sparkled as it spun its way to the floor. With lightning fast Seeker’s reflexes Harry snatched it out of the air inches from the floor and Charlie let out a low whistle.

“Those are some reflexes, Potter,” he said with admiration. “The Quidditch Cup is Gryffindor’s this year for sure!”

“Ah, finally admitting Harry’s the best Seeker we’ve ever had?” said George laughing but Harry didn’t join in as he stared at the shiny badge in his hand and swore softly.

“What’s wrong, Harry?” asked Ginny putting a hand on his arm. Silently Harry handed her the badge and Hermione must have figured out what it was because she tore across the room and engulfed him in a hug to rival one of Molly Weasley’s.

“Oh Harry!” she exclaimed. “Isn’t that wonderful? Oh I’m so happy for you!”

“I’m not,” grumbled Harry. “This is your fault.” He pointed an accusing finger at Ron.

“What did I do?” asked Ron indignantly. Harry plucked the badge from Ginny’s grasp and tossed it to Ron.

“If you were coming back that would be yours!” Ron caught the badge and smiled.

“No way mate,” he said, getting up and trying to pin the badge to Harry’s robes. “There is no way that Head Boy badge was going to anyone else this year.” Harry sighed heavily as he fought Ron off before eventually submitting to having the badge pinned to his chest.

“Yes, because I need extra attention,” he grumbled as Molly beamed at him.

“Look George,” said Ron, pushing Harry and Hermione together like he was setting them up for a photograph, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “We’ve got a matching set. Don’t they look all grown up?”

“How am I supposed to do all this?” said Harry exasperatedly. “Does McGonagall expect me to be Head Boy and Captain the Quidditch Team and-” he stopped abruptly.

“And what Harry?” Ginny asked quietly. Harry took a deep breath as he pushed Ron’s hand away from buffing the glittering Head Boy badge still pinned to his rumpled and stained robes.

“I know why there is no Seventh year Defence text,” he said heavily.

“Why not?” Hermione leaned towards him eagerly, clearly anxious to learn this piece of news.

“Because there’s no professor,” he said simply. Hermione studied him carefully but didn’t say anything.

“They don’t have a Defence teacher?” asked Ginny incredulously. “That’s got to be the stupidest thing I have ever heard. They haven’t been able to find anyone? Anyone at all?”

“Oh, there is a Defence teacher,” clarified Harry. “Just not for the Seventh Years.”

“Well, that’s not fair!” Ginny cried at the same time that Hermione gasped.

“It’s because of you, isn’t it?” she asked shrewdly and Harry nodded. “That’s why Professor McGonagall wanted to see you.”

“Lucius Malfoy has managed to wrangle his way back onto the Governor’s Board, and the Board, in its wisdom, has decided that only an Auror can be the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher,” Harry explained. “The Auror Department is a little depleted at the moment and finding one has been difficult. They found one but he refuses to teach me.”

“So either you drop Defence or none of the Seventh years can do Defence?” asked Hermione, frowning. Harry nodded.

“McGonagall and Kingsley are concerned about public opinion and the legitimacy of the course if Harry Potter does not take Defence Against the Dark Arts,” said Harry heavily.

“Well, I can imagine that would cause some surprise and yes the letters home would raise a few eyebrows,” murmured Hermione. “I’m sure we can trust Rita Skeeter to make up something outrageous to explain that.”

“Hang on!” said Ron. “You’ve suddenly got an Auror medallion.” Harry stood waiting for the pieces to fall into place and it took only seconds for Hermione to figure out what had happened.

“You’re teaching Seventh Year Defence Against the Dark Arts!”

“In a manner of speaking,” he said, shrugging. “It’s just to get around the red tape. It seems to have been Dumbledore’s idea.”

Ron frowned at him.

“His portrait self was looking mighty smug,” continued Harry. “I got the impression that Malfoy was being difficult about the Auror stipulation. Personally I think McGonagall and Kingsley wanted to wave two fingers at Malfoy and the Board. Kingsley seems to have created a new Auror Division, of which I am currently the only employee but McGonagall says I don’t have to actually teach anything – apparently I already did all that back in our fifth year.” He smiled a little wryly.

The kitchen erupted and Molly soon had him in a bone crushing hug of congratulations. A short time later, when things had settled down and the dregs of the hot chocolate had been drunk, Bill, Fleur and Percy began to get ready to go home. Harry was sitting at the table tracing patterns on Ginny’s back as she leant against him. She had so far avoided her mother’s attempts to send her to bed but it wouldn’t be long before Molly started on her again. Harry was contemplating what it would take to get Ginny alone when Ron suddenly let out a shout of laughter.

“You know what this means mate?” he asked, reaching out and buffing the Head Boy badge again. “You do have the power to give Draco Malfoy detention!”

***************

When Harry came down to breakfast the following morning, he discovered that Ginny was still in bed. He endured stoically as Molly launched into a long-winded explanation of why Ginny should be allowed to have a lie in, until George beckoned him from the doorway. Grabbing a piece of toast and glancing at Molly sideways as she waved her wand in intricate patterns over the stove, Harry hurried to the backdoor.

“Come outside,” George hissed. “We’ve got time. Ron convinced Hermione to go up to your room for a snuggle after she heard you come down.” Harry frowned at George.

“What are you on about?” he hissed back. “Are you trying to lure me outside so you all can grill me about my intentions?”

“Oh sod your intentions, Harry,” said George, pulling on his arm. “I reckon you could declare your intentions to shag Ginny sideways right now and no one would care. ‘Cept maybe Percy. But he’s a git.” Harry flushed a deep shade of red at the implications and allowed George to drag him out of the house.

“Okay,” said George after he and Harry were standing several feet from the house. “I was thinking last night and I went down to the shop and dug up some old papers me and Fred drew up a couple years ago. I’d forgotten all about them. When we opened the shop we sort of wrote a will. It’s not official or anything so I need your help.”

“I don’t know anything about wills,” said Harry. “I don’t know anything about legal stuff. It’s not like I even made a will.” Now that he thought about it that was possibly quite short sighted of him. Then he sighed, there was another thing on the growing list of Things To Do before he went back to Hogwarts.

“Oh, don’t worry about official legal stuff,” George waved a hand impatiently. “I need your help because you’re the third share in Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.” Harry stared at him.

“I am?”

“Yeah,” said George, looking at him with one eyebrow raised. “Technically you and me each own half right now. Course, practically, we took your share and invested it back into the shop. It’s not like you’ve earned any money.” Harry rolled his eyes at George.

“According to these not legal, not official documents you and Fred wrote?”

“Yep, pretty much!” said George cheerfully.

“And apparently, also according documents of dubious origin, Fred left half his share to you and half to me?”

“Well in a manner of speaking,” shrugged George. “His third is dissolved and divided between us.” Harry nodded. He was fairly sure that he almost understood.

“So, what’s the plan?”

“Plan?”

“Yes, George, the plan?” asked Harry patiently.

“IwannagiveFredsharetoRon,” George rattled off rapidly. Harry blinked.

“You want to-”

“Give Fred’s share to Ron,” finished George, slower this time.

“Like an inheritance?”

“We didn’t write a proper will,” admitted George showing Harry a piece of parchment. “We should have. Bit short sighted of us really, but one night we wrote this.” Harry looked at the parchment. There was nothing on it. He turned it over several times before shrugging.

“There’s nothing here,” he said. George looked at him pityingly.

“Sometimes Harry, I wonder at your lack of resourcefulness.” Getting out his wand George waved it around for a moment.

“I solemnly swear that I’m allowed to read this,” he muttered and Harry burst out laughing. George looked offended. “Well, Fred did write the first one in invisible ink but we couldn’t remember which brand it was and which remedy would allow us to see it and which would permanently erase it.” Harry watched as iridescent purple ink began to scrawl across the parchment as if of its own accord.

If We’re Dead was sprawled across the top in loopy writing.

“That’s cheery,” muttered Harry as he watched the rest of the writing appear. George shrugged. The short note was written in two hands. One purple and one lime green.

“Fred had the purple ink,” murmured George. “We had a fight over that because I wanted it and he was being stupid and wouldn’t let me put my quill in that pot.” He fell silent and Harry turned his attention to the writing now complete on the parchment.

‘We need to decide what happens if we’re dead, Fred.

You or me?

We should cover every eventuality.

I’m not planning on being dead, George.

Well, neither am I, but these things happen.

Let’s give the shop to Harry.

Okay, did we give him a third?

Technically. Did we tell him that?

I don’t think so.

If it’s just me who’s dead, you can have half and Harry can have half.

Sounds good, Fred. Same if it’s me.

No way, George, I’m keeping the entire thing!

Let’s hope for Harry’s sake it’s you then, Fred.’

Harry smiled as he read it although his eyes were suspiciously wet when he got to the end.

“So you want to give Fred’s third to Ron instead?” he asked. George nodded.

“Yeah, it seems fair.”

“I disagree,” said Harry decisively.

“But he’s put in all this work and he’s got some really good ideas, Harry,” George looked shocked. “I thought you’d go for this!”

“I don’t need a share, George,” he said, before George really got going. “I didn’t even know I had a share.”

“Well, admittedly you’ve never had a say in your share or seen any of the profits but-”

“Exactly,” interrupted Harry. “I’m not going to miss it am I? And I think any debt for the start up money has been repaid.” They both fell silent. Harry studied his shoes intently.

“So if you don’t want to give Fred’s share to Ron, what do you want to do?” George asked eventually.

“Give my share to Ron,” said Harry raising his head to look at George. “You said we both have a half share right now, so give my half to Ron.” George nodded slowly.

“I should have known you’d say that,” he said, sighing. “I don’t know where my brain is at half the time these days. It’s just as well Ron’s around really, nearly blew myself up making a potion yesterday. He stopped me adding the wormwood too soon. Can you imagine having to front up to the afterlife and look Snape in the eye after that? Fred always used to stop me buggering up the potions. Without Ron, I might end up on the other side prematurely. Which I thought about, you know.” George had trailed off to a whisper and was staring over the horizon. Harry sensed how much that admission had cost him.

“Did you ever think about that, Harry?” George asked. “Just ending it?”

“Yeah,” admitted Harry. “Right after Sirius died. It didn’t last long though.” George shook his head.

“Nah, I don’t feel that way anymore,” he replied. The two of them stood in silence, watching the sun light up the garden. “So you’re giving half to Ron?”

“Yeah, but don’t tell him that,” said Harry. “No one knows I even had a third and Ron gets … funny about things like that.”

“Ginny knows you had a third,” interjected George. “Manipulative that one; can get all sorts of information out of you.”

“Just tell him he’s inherited Fred’s half,” said Harry, laughing. “He’s not going to argue with a will. He’s also not going to want to see it. Paperwork is not his thing.”

“What about explaining it to Ginny?”

“She won’t care,” shrugged Harry. “She knows what’s in my vault. I think she knows better than I do actually. Besides she would have made the same decision.”

“She gets to decide things with you, doesn’t she, Harry?” asked George suddenly and Harry nodded. “I don’t think Percy understands that.” Harry just growled.

“Percy thinks we’re too young and too involved,” he ground out.

“Just because he took six years to work up to a marriage proposal,” scoffed George. “He said last night that Ginny needed to take her time and explore her options. He’s completely off his rocker. Options? He thinks some bloke out there is going to understand her better than you? That there are better options than the man who worships the ground she walks on? He’s completely mental if he thinks she’s going to find someone who loves her more than you do.” Harry shoved his hands in his pockets and shuffled his feet in embarrassment.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Harry,” said George urgently. “You’ve got to stand up to Percy and tell him that. He’s about as perceptive as a cauldron bottom. Just tell him.”

“Last night, Ron and Bill said that I have to stand up to Percy,” said Harry slowly.

“There you are then,” said George impatiently. “It’s unanimous.”

“Well Charlie …” mumbled Harry. George waved an impatient hand.

“Do we really need to ask him?”

Harry sighed heavily. He didn’t want to cause a scene. He didn’t want to make Percy leave. He didn’t want to be the cause of any more grief. Why couldn’t Percy just see this the way everyone else in the family had? A shout from the back door roused him from his contemplation.

“George! Are we opening before noon?” Ron called. “Stop interrogating Harry and eat something!” George turned to the house, grumbling.

“Who’s he channelling, Mum?”

“What were you guys talking about?” asked Ron as Harry and George sat down at the table. Molly was sipping a cup of tea, reading a recipe book and Charlie was reading the paper. Ginny and Hermione were nowhere to be seen.

“Percy,” said George quickly before Harry could dismiss it as nothing. Ron started grumbling.

“Dozy git. No idea that one.”

“Ronald Weasley!” exclaimed his mother. “I will not have you talking about your brother like that!”

“Even if it’s true?” asked Charlie looking up from the paper. Molly huffed and turned back to the recipe book.

“See, she agrees with us,” said Ron stabbing the air with a piece of toast in his mother’s general direction and turning to Harry. “You have to talk to Percy.”

“Just drop it,” said Harry tersely.

“Ginny will Bat-Bogey him if she hears what we heard last night,” warned Charlie.

“Not if Hermione gets to him first,” muttered Ron. “You should have heard her go off about it.”

“You will all leave your brother alone,” said Molly as she stood up, clutching the recipe book. “It’s his birthday on Saturday and I will not have it ruined by you lot. He hasn’t had a birthday at home with us for three years.”

“Guess we’d better get him a present then,” murmured George looking sideways at Ron. Harry saw them exchange a look that he would only describe as mischievous and decided he was looking forward to it.

“Yes, I think you should,” said Molly decisively as she went into the scullery. Charlie leaned forward urgently.

“You’ve got to speak to Percy before Saturday, Harry,” he whispered. “Ginny will hex him for sure by the end of the night if he is still being a git.”

“How?” asked Harry listlessly. “He’ll be at work.” Charlie shook his head.

“Honestly, they told me you were intelligent!” he said exasperatedly. George snorted and Ron grinned. “Make an appointment with him at work.”

“Who do you want an appointment with?” asked Arthur cheerily as he breezed into the kitchen.

“Percy,” chorused his sons.

“Ah,” was all Arthur said as he sat down and buttered his toast.

“Fine,” grumbled Harry, “you win.”

“I’ll catch him for you today, Harry,” said Arthur, “tomorrow alright? Probably best to set him straight before the party on Saturday. You don’t want Molly upset.” Harry sighed; even Arthur thought he needed to talk to Percy.

“Tomorrow’s fine,” he said morosely and Ron clapped him on the back soundly, making him drop his spoon into his cereal with a splash. Hermione swept into the kitchen.

“Good morning everyone!”

“See, she’s more cheery if we get to snuggle,” muttered Ron in an undertone.

“I don’t want to know,” Harry murmured back. He raised his voice to address Hermione. “Is Ginny up yet?” Hermione looked at him apologetically.

“No,” she said softly. “I think she’s awake though. But she didn’t answer me when I spoke to her.” Harry looked longingly at the kitchen door, willing her to appear. That didn’t sound like Ginny. She’d been up for breakfast every day even though it was the summer holidays; she hadn’t been a layabout in bed. She’d told him it was because she wanted to spend all her time with him. She had seemed alright the night before when he’d kissed her goodnight on the stairs. He forced his mind back to Hermione who was still talking.

“-because I really do think it’s not good enough that people can get away with just using Unforgivables,” she said, waving a fork as if to accentuate her point.

“But it was war, Hermione,” argued Ron. “Besides, you put every little Slytherin on trial you’ll have to put Harry right up there with them!” The room fell silent. Harry could hear his heart pounding in his ears. He hadn’t given much thought to the fact that he’d used Unforgivable Curses during the last days of the war and he looked up worriedly at Hermione who was biting her lip.

“But the Death Eaters have already been put on trial and I’m sure their use of Unforgivables has been examined,” she said. Harry could barely hear her over the rushing in his ears.

“What if they do want to do that to Harry?” demanded Ron. The room blurred and Harry dropped his spoon again. The clang as it hit the side of the bowl seemed loud in the stillness.

“No one’s putting Harry on trial,” said Arthur softly. “There’s no record of him performing Unforgivables. Amycus Carrow was accusing him but Kingsley could find no witnesses. Professor McGonagall seemed to think something had addled Carrow’s brain.” Harry forced himself to take a few deep breaths. The bile was rising in his throat.

“Bill said the goblins were a bit confused,” added Charlie. “They couldn’t quite remember what happened when Harry paid them a visit.”

“Technically Unforgivables were legal at the time,” Arthur said with a grimace. “I believe the prosecutors have had trouble having them admitted as an accusation.”

“Yeah, put the Death Eaters on trial, but you can’t do that to all the kids who were just doing as they were told,” Ron continued softly. “War changes things.” Harry wasn’t so sure that it did at that moment. At the time everything had seemed logical and right but now he was fighting the urge to throw up.

“Well they should be expelled,” insisted Hermione. “And Malfoy, he shouldn’t be allowed back in school! And making him a Prefect, what was Professor McGonagall thinking?”

“He never wanted to be a Death Eater, Hermione,” said Ron. “Oh he’s still a slimy git, but he’s no Death Eater; besides the Slytherins need a leader. If there’s a void there who knows what sort of twisted little antics those ferals will come up with. McGonagall knows exactly what she’s doing.

“Like Ginny said, too many of the little brats know how to use the Cruciatus Curse now. They need someone to keep them in line and Slytherins aren’t likely to look up to Harry here. Whether we like it or not, Malfoy still has some sort of influence.”

“Well I hope someone’s going to be very firm about the fact that the rules have changed back,” said Hermione firmly.

“That’s why you’re Head Girl, Hermione,” smiled Ron. “Who better? And that’s why Harry’s Head Boy. Everyone looks up to Harry, having anyone else would be redundant.”

“They shouldn’t,” Harry mumbled, stumbling to his feet, intent on getting some fresh air. He was losing the battle with the contents of his stomach as he struggled to the door, knocking over his chair as he stood. The memories of Bellatrix Lestrange in the Ministry and of Imperiused goblins and Amycus Carrow in the Ravenclaw Common Room were whirling through his head, at odds with Ron repeating ‘everyone looks up to Harry’.

“Harry, are you alright?” he heard Hermione say. Her voice sounded distant and he didn’t answer her as he clattered down the back step.

“Harry!” He knew Ron and Hermione were on his heels as he reached the lawn and promptly leaned over and vomited onto a biting rose bush. Ron pulled him back as the bush tried to bite him and he and Hermione led Harry to a bench on the edge of the lawn. Ron pushed him down onto the seat and Hermione conjured a glass of water and pressed it into his hand. He took a huge gulp and dropped his head into his free hand.

“Harry,” Hermione started. “You … it’s different.”

“How?” asked Harry miserably. “How is it different?”

“Well cause they were the bad guys,” said Ron simply as he dropped onto the seat next to Harry.

“It’s not that simple Ron.”

“Yeah, it is,” insisted Ron. “They did bad things first.”

“Do you know why I used the Cruciatus Curse on Carrow?” asked Harry bitterly. “Because he insulted Professor McGonagall. Cruciatus is pretty severe for an insult wouldn’t you say?”

“Yeah, but provocation mate,” said Ron. “They did much worse than that all year.”

“Does that make it better?” Harry asked, downing the last of the water and twirling the glass in his hands.

“Well, I think your reaction to it does,” said Hermione softly as she sank down on his other side. “You’re not exactly revelling in it are you? Anyway, I think if it came to it and anyone wanted to try you, there’d certainly be grounds to grant a pardon.”

“Yeah, for services to the community or something,” said Ron thoughtfully. “Bit of an understatement though isn’t it?”

“Pretty big service,” said Hermione. Ron snorted. Harry looked at him sideways and then glanced at Hermione who was trying to hide a grin.

“Thanks for saving the world, Mr Potter,” said Ron in an officious voice. “For that fine effort we’d like to keep you out of Azkaban. Here have a plaque, it’s self shining.” Harry started laughing and soon the three of them were chuckling helplessly as they tried not to slide off the bench and onto the ground.

“Thanks,” said Harry quietly when the laughter had subsided.

“It’s truly not the same Harry,” said Hermione.

“I’m not doing it again,” replied Harry quietly. “It’s hard enough to live with things as it is. I just don’t normally think about it.”

“I expect there’s a lot of things we’d all rather not think about,” mused Ron. The three of them sat in silence for a moment. Harry’s thoughts wandered to Ginny and he wondered what she was thinking and feeling.

“We’re leaving for the shop soon,” said Ron, breaking into his thoughts. “You coming or … Ginny?”

“I’ll just go up and see her,” said Harry, glancing up at the house. He started to get up and Hermione grabbed his hand. Harry turned around.

“I don’t think she slept well last night,” she said softly. “I – I didn’t want to say anything before, in front of everybody.” Harry nodded tightly a lump forming in his throat. He squeezed Hermione’s hand.

“Thanks,” he whispered around the lump and let go of her hand to go back inside.

*******************

Moving boxes and stocking shelves at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes gave Harry’s mind plenty of time to think about Ginny. She had locked her bedroom door after Hermione had left for breakfast and wouldn’t let anyone in – not even him. He could still feel the smooth wood under his forehead as he leant against it, straining to hear her through the door. She had eventually told him she just wanted to sleep and to go to the shop with Ron and so he had let Ron drag him out the door, but he’d been so distracted all day that he’d been precious little help.

“Oi! Potter!” he heard George call from the front of the shop. Harry was in the store room looking for some fake wands and he had no idea how long he’d been in there. Grabbing a box randomly he wandered back out to the front of the store and listlessly handed it to George who was standing near the counter which had been moved to near the window during the refit he and Ron had done.

“You want to go get some lunch, Harry?” asked Ron. Harry shook his head. “You have to eat; Mum’ll kill us if we don’t feed you.”

“I’m not hungry,” answered Harry dispiritedly, slumping into a nearby chair behind the counter.

“That’s just a travesty, mate,” answered Ron, shaking his head. Harry paid little interest as George pushed Ron out the door. He was too consumed with thoughts of Ginny. Why wouldn’t she talk to him that morning? How was she feeling? Would she let him in when he got home? His thoughts were interrupted by George pushing a packet into his hands. The shop was quiet with only two boys who looked like they might be starting Second Year whispering to each other and pointing at Harry while Verity served them.

“Can you write some price tags?” George said. Harry looked up. He got the distinct impression that George was searching for things to keep him occupied. George dumped a pile of something grey and shapeless on the counter. “Four Sickles each.”

“What are they?” Harry asked his interest suddenly piqued.

“Vanishing handkerchiefs,” said George. “Anything under them disappears. Downright useful if you’re trying to hide little things.” He rummaged about under the counter and pulled out a stack of small bags with ‘Vanishing Handkerchief’ printed on them.

“Does seem useful,” murmured Harry putting a quill, then a coin and then the packet of price tags under a square of fabric. He watched as the fabric blended in with the counter.

“Here, put them in the bags and label them,” said George. He paused for a moment before he spoke again, in a completely different tone. “She loves you. Don’t think she doesn’t.” Harry looked up sharply.

“I know she does. It’s not that. I just – she … we talk about things,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what to do when she doesn’t talk at all. She doesn’t talk about some things. She thinks I haven’t noticed but stuff to do with last year, she doesn’t talk about it. But she’s never shut herself away before. She lets me hold her. We talk about something else until she smiles. I tell her how much I love her and I can tell she feels better. I want to help her feel better. If I can’t do that, I feel useless.”

“I don’t know why Percy can’t see it,” muttered George, shaking his head. He sat down next to Harry. “Ginny’ll probably be ready to talk when you get home. Verity reckons sometimes girls need space or something. I dunno I stopped listening after about thirty seconds. Besides, you’re not useless. You’ve been a very good box carrier today … even if we do have six boxes of puking pastilles out here and no fake wands.”

“Sorry,” muttered Harry, writing ’14 Galleons’ on one of the labels. George took the quill away from him.

“Why don’t you go and help Verity?” he said, shaking his head again. Harry got up and wandered over to where Verity was dusting a shelf behind the register. A large neon sign proclaiming the re-opening hung in the window behind her. Ron and George had spent an evening with their father in his shed trying to get it to flash using magic. Arthur had been fascinated but Molly had just asked why they didn’t just charm a sign to flash. The three wizards had just shaken their heads at her ruefully. The sign now flashed in the window of number ninety-three. Harry gazed out at Diagon Alley, past Verity’s duster and the flashing sign.

It was busier than it had been last time he was here. Witches and wizards hurried up and down the crowded street, he could see small children darting between the shoppers and Hogwarts students with packages of books and robes. Harry leaned on the windowsill and watched as three boys approached, each carrying shiny new cauldrons and assorted packages that Harry knew were books and robes. He thought they must be first years. The boys stopped in front of the window, perhaps lured by the flashing sign. Harry watched in amusement as the blond boy in the middle made eye contact, his jaw dropping.

Without breaking the eye contact, the boy nudged each of his friends with his elbows. Soon all three boys were staring, open mouthed at Harry who smiled and tipped his head towards the door. The boys looked at each other uncertainly before they shuffled as one to the door and pushed it open cautiously. As the last one timidly stepped inside Ron came barrelling through, knocking the smallest headfirst into a large bin of trick wands. The child’s legs waved helplessly in the air and his muffled shouts rang through the shop. Ron grabbed the back of his robes, tossing the parcel in his hands to Harry who caught it with ease. Hauling the small boy out, Ron set him on his feet.

“Sorry about that!” he said cheerfully. “Didn’t mean to upend you.” The boy looked up slowly at Ron, who towered above him. Harry chuckled quietly imagining the boy’s reaction to Hagrid when they stepped off the train at Hogwarts. The noise drew the gaze of the other two boys and they looked at him solemnly for a moment. Finally the blond child who had first noticed Harry seemed to shake himself out of his stupor and he took a step towards Harry and held out his hand, offering it formally for Harry to shake.

“Good afternoon,” the child intoned, in what he had probably been taught were good manners. “My name is Othello and it is a pleasure to meet you.” Harry stuck his hand out in return.

“Harry Potter, good to meet you too,” he said. “You shopping for your Hogwarts things?” The boys nodded.

“Just need to get our wands now,” volunteered the third boy. He had mousy brown hair and mischievous glint in his eye. “Dexter’s still got his birthday money though. I’ve been trying to talk him out of getting a toad. No one has toads anymore.” He rolled his eyes expressively. Dexter was obviously the one Ron had knocked into the bin of wands because he scowled as he turned to his friend.

“How do you know that!” he scoffed. “For all you know, everyone might have a toad!”

“No, they really don’t,” said Ron carelessly. “Only Neville’s got a toad. I don’t think anyone else ever had a toad. You should get an owl. Dead useful, an owl.” The boy’s face fell.

“I don’t think I can afford an owl,” he said. Ron squatted down in front of Dexter and looked him straight in the eye.

“Well having a toad isn’t such a terrible thing and Trevor might like a friend,” he said.

“Who’s Trevor?”

“Neville’s toad,” volunteered Harry. “I can introduce you when we get to Hogwarts if you like. Neville must know heaps about looking after toads.”

“Are you going to Hogwarts this year?” asked Othello, his eyes wide. Harry nodded.

“Wicked,” breathed Dexter. Harry didn’t get a chance to answer because at that moment a heavily made up and finely manicured woman, her arms bristling with parcels, burst through to door of the shop.

“Hamish! There you are! What are you doing in here? I have been looking for you everywhere!” she shrieked. The mousy headed boy grimaced. “And what have I told you about talking to strangers?” She eyed Ron rather distastefully and he hurriedly stood up and straightened out his robes.

“We’re not talking to strangers Mum,” sighed Hamish, rolling his eyes. “And the war’s over now you can stop panicking like, every five seconds.” Hamish’s mother was not placated.

“I have been entrusted with the care of your little friends and I take that responsibility seriously, young man,” she said firmly. “I don’t care if you are talking to Harry Bloody Potter himself; you do not just wander off like that!” Harry stifled a snort and Ron turned blue as he held his breath in an effort not to laugh. The boys went red with embarrassment and glanced sideways at Harry who was managing not to laugh, barely. Hamish’s finely manicured mother went on.

“Just five minutes, I ask you to wait while I visit the facilities and do you stay there? No, you wander off,” she ranted. “You had me absolutely sick with worry, I was about to find an Auror and file a missing persons report! You mark my words, your father is going to hear about this little escapade and you two, your mothers will be told. There will be something to say about this! Now come along. We’re getting your wands and going straight home.” She strode to the door and held it open imperiously. The three boys shuffled their feet and gathered their packages.

“Seeya,” said Hamish softly. Ron grabbed at something on a shelf hastily and dropped three small items into Dexter’s cauldron as he passed by.

“Use those on Filch, the caretaker,” he whispered and the three boys grinned at him as they moved to the door. Ron grinned back, “or the Head Boy. I heard he’s a real stickler.” The door shut after them as they were hurried out the door and down the street. Harry watched through the window as they went and Dexter and Hamish turned to wave. Harry waved back and then chuckled as Hamish’s mother turned around to berate them but caught sight of Harry instead. Her eyes widened and a flush stained her cheeks. Harry waved at her cheekily and she returned the wave timidly before turning and hustling the boys away.

The afternoon was a blur to Harry. He stayed behind the counter to help Verity and was clearly visible from the street. A number of people came in to see Harry Potter and left with a purchase.

“We should have put you in the window this morning mate,” said Ron as he wrapped up a package of Wonderwitch products for a young girl who was staring avidly at Harry. The shop was crowded and she stumbled into four display bins, two other customers and a stuffed dragon that George had enchanted to breathe fire at shoplifters, before making it to the door.

“Yeah and have half the customers so star struck they can’t walk in a straight line?” asked Harry sceptically.

“Well, that is an unfortunate side effect …”

Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes did a roaring trade all afternoon and Verity taught Harry how to ring up the sales. He found the hustle and bustle and the people distracted him and kept his thoughts from dwelling on Ginny too much and how she was doing. He still couldn’t wait to see her, to find out if she was alright, but the wait was easier now that his mind was occupied.

******************

George, Ron and Harry Apparated into the garden at The Burrow shortly before tea time. Hermione was sitting in a lawn chair reading a book and looked up at the sound of Ron’s barking laughter.

“I thought that old man was going to faint when you put his stuff through the till,” said Ron. “I loved watching people’s faces today. It was fabulous.”

“Yes, Ron,” said Harry. “It was bloody wonderful. You aren’t the one with squashed fingers from the hand shaking.”

“It’s a good job Fred and I had stocked up on bruise paste,” said George. “Although I think the first order of business tomorrow is to move that rack of punching telescopes from next to the counter. If people would just look where they are going, they wouldn’t get smacked in the face. That never used to be a problem.”

“Harry never used to be standing there distracting people,” smirked Ron. “How many marriage proposals did you get today, mate?” Harry rolled his eyes as Hermione made her way over the grass to meet them as they wandered towards the house.

“It was only one,” he protested. “And I don’t think you can take marriage proposals from four year olds seriously, Ron.”

“Her mother looked mighty interested however,” laughed Ron.

“And hot,” added George.

“And I didn’t see a ring on her finger,” continued Ron as Hermione reached them and he snaked an arm around her waist.

“Well, she’s not going to get very far with me,” said Harry grumpily as he watched Ron and Hermione greet each other and wondered where Ginny was.

“She might get somewhere with me,” answered George, puffing out his chest. “Or should I say, I might get somewhere with her.” Harry shook his head.

“You got a date, with her, didn’t you?”

“Sure did!” said George proudly. “With her and another with a sweet, sweet witch named Felicity.”

“You’re incorrigible,” said Hermione, as they pushed open the door and entered the kitchen.

“I do try,” was all George said as he greeted his mother with a kiss and headed to the pantry.

“George, tea’s nearly ready!” Molly scolded at his retreating back. George mumbled something indistinguishable from the depths of the pantry before popping his head back out.

“Mother, your feats in the kitchen render me unable to wait,” he retreated back into the tiny room and Molly turned to Ron.

“He’s in a very good mood,” she whispered.

“Women,” Ron whispered back. His mum looked more worried than mollified by this but she didn’t comment.

“How did it go today, dears,” she asked instead as she resumed directing knives with her wand.

“Oh it was brilliant mum,” George said re-emerging from the pantry and picking up two of the potatoes lying on the table and beginning to juggle them. “Mind you, it doesn’t hurt to have Harry Potter sitting in the window!” Molly levitated the potatoes back to the table and directed them under the knives. Soon they were peeling and chopping with precision.

“I can’t believe you,” said Hermione shaking her head. “Harry is not a window decoration!”

“Tell that to the single witches,” muttered Ron as he grabbed a piece of carrot.

“Shut up,” mumbled Harry as he swiped a piece as well.

“You boys just wait for tea!” Molly scolded, but she was smiling as she slapped at their hands. Harry just grinned at her and George reached over to grab a piece as well.

“I was working, I’ll have you know, Hermione,” said Harry smugly. “The counter is near the window at the present time.”

“Well …” Hermione trailed off she seemed to have no argument for that and Ron slipped his arms around her and pulled her close.

“We would never exploit Harry,” he said as he nuzzled her cheek. “And you know it. You just like to have an argument.” Hermione blushed.

“I do not,” she protested weakly.

“Yeah, you do,” said Ron as he kissed her. Harry and George groaned in unison. Molly just sighed wistfully.

“Come outside for a walk with me,” Ron said to Hermione as he tugged on her hand. A flushed Hermione agreed and George took a seat at the table, smirking.

“Sure, you go for a walk,” he said. Harry watched as Ron gestured rudely at George behind Hermione and his mother’s back and left.

“Where’s Ginny?” Harry asked. Molly’s face fell.

“She’s in her room,” she said. “She hasn’t been out all day.” Harry’s eyes darted involuntarily upwards and his stomach clenched.

“All day?” he asked faintly. Molly nodded.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said softly, directing the vegetables into pots on the stovetop. “She’s of age now and she’s warded that door with who knows what. Where does anyone learn that sort of privacy charm?” Harry swallowed. He knew exactly where she’d learnt them. The charms Hermione had used in the forests and on the moors when they were camping had come in very handy for stolen moments in The Burrow’s garden. Ginny must have been watching him pretty closely.

“I’ll just go up and see if she’s … ready for tea,” he muttered. Molly caught his eye and she smiled at him as if she expected Harry to succeed where she had failed. He hoped he could because he had no idea what he was going to say.

Harry stood uncertainly on the landing and wondered if Ginny would hear him through the enchantments she had cast on the room. He reached out and touched the door. The wood felt smooth under his fingertips. He knocked and then hesitated, his hand reaching for the doorknob. Would he be able to go inside?

His fingers closed around the battered doorknob and it rattled in his hand as he turned it. The hinges let out a protest as Harry pushed on the door and he winced at how loud the sound was in the stillness. He heard a faint rustle from inside the room as he stepped through the doorway.

“Ginny?” he called softly as he looked around the door. Ginny was sitting on her bed, her knees drawn up to her chest and she was staring into space. Harry stepped further into the room. “Can I come in?”

“You already are,” replied Ginny. She didn’t look at him but kept staring into space.

“Mum said you warded the door,” he said as he closed the door behind him.

“Not against you,” she whispered. “Never against you.” Harry stood in the middle of the room, unsure what to do next. He watched as she tilted her head back and leant against the headboard, staring at the ceiling.

“I guess you picked up a few things watching those charms I’ve been casting,” he said eventually. Ginny shook her head and let out a sharp bark of laughter.

“I looked them up last year,” she said bitterly. “Death Eaters can get through regular locks. I needed something a little more sophisticated. Something Alohamora couldn’t undo.” Harry swallowed hard.

“Why did you need-”

“Because they came after me!” Ginny suddenly screeched. She leapt off the bed and stood in front of Harry, her face flushed and her eyes sparkling with tears.

“After you -”

“Yes, they came after me!” Ginny said. “I could hear them stalking me in the hallways. They knew Neville was covering for me and they came after me anyway! Because I was yours; I’ve always been yours,” she finished in a whisper. Harry didn’t know what to say or what to do but she held his gaze and he couldn’t look away.

“And I know healing charms because someone had to heal the first years when they weren’t allowed to go to the Hospital Wing,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself. Harry reached out to her but she shrugged him off and turned away to stare out of the window.

“Ginny …”

“And you left me. You weren’t there,” she whispered. Harry felt like she’d just wounded him as surely as if she’d plunged a knife into his heart.

“I didn’t want to,” he said. “It was the last thing I wanted to do.”

“I know,” she replied, her voice cracking. “I knew it wouldn’t be easy going out with Harry Potter. I just didn’t know what sort of hard it would be not going out with him.”

Harry reached out to her again and this time she let him hold her.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m so sorry.” Ginny turned in his embrace so that her face was buried in his shirt and he felt her let out a sob.

“I missed you,” she said. “So much.”

“I know,” replied Harry as he stroked her hair. “I missed you too.” Ginny looked up at him, her brown eyes searching his.

“And everyone thought I knew where you were and what you were doing,” she said softly. “They all wanted to know. So I learnt privacy charms.”

“Why today?” Harry asked. “Why did you use them today?”

“To keep Mum out,” Ginny said simply. Harry didn’t believe her.

“Or the demons?” he asked quietly. “You felt safer behind those charms, didn’t you?”

Ginny looked away. She didn’t say anything so Harry sat down on her bed, pulling her with him. Ginny leaned against his side and he held her close.

“It’s been like a dream,” she said quietly. “Having you home. I didn’t want to tell you – anyone, about school because then I’d have to think about it. Remember it. At first, it was like I was floating on air. Even while I was crying over Fred I was walking on air because I was walking with you. And there were too many things going on with you. I pushed it all aside to deal with that. To help you-”

“Ginny-”

“No,” she shook her head forcefully, turning to face him. “Don’t you dare apologise. I wanted to. I couldn’t have done anything else. You needed us, needed me and your need was definitely greater than mine. Don’t be sorry. Please, don’t be sorry that you let me help you.”

Her eyes bored into his and her tiny hands reached up to caress his neck. Harry knew that he probably wouldn’t have made it without her and he shook his head.

“I’m not sorry,” he whispered, pulling her towards him until she was in his lap. “Thank you.”

Ginny leaned forward and kissed him and he wanted to give himself up and just kiss her back but not until she talked first. He wanted to know what demons were lurking, pushed down in her soul. Physical affection might banish them for now, but they’d still be lurking, waiting. Harry pulled away.

“What did you push aside, Ginny?” he asked. “What haven’t you told us?”

“Nothing,” she muttered. “Everyone knows everything now. I was at school, I was rebelling, I got in trouble and I got hurt. Neville and Seamus had to cover for me and then I went home.”

She withdrew her hands from around his neck and wrapped them around her own body and Harry felt suddenly cold.

“Sure those are the facts,” Harry tried again to get her to open up. “But how did you feel? Heck, how are you feeling now?”

Ginny looked up at him, her hands dropped to her sides.

“How did I feel?” she asked blankly. “How do I feel now?”

Harry nodded, willing her to continue. She gazed at him solemnly, perched on his lap, her legs straddling his, and suddenly her mouth was on his and her hands were on his chest, pushing him onto her bed. Harry could feel her body against his and the urgency in her kiss and his arms came around her and he responded almost involuntarily, his mind screaming at him to stop and his traitorous body urging him on.

He knew this wasn’t going to help, that losing herself in him wasn’t the answer she was looking for but her tongue was doing such wonderful things in his mouth and her hands were everywhere and it felt so good that he didn’t stop her. Something new erupted from somewhere deep inside and then it was no longer her need, but his. His hands snaked under her clothing and he rolled over so that he had her pinned beneath him. Harry was acutely aware of the way her fingers were trailing up and down his back and the way she was shifting underneath him. He felt all rational thought draining away and the only thing in his world was Ginny. He groaned and tore his lips away from hers to press them to her chin, her jaw, her neck, his body pressing against hers urgently, betraying his desire.

But when he felt tiny fingers on his belt, pulling at it, undoing it, it was as though Ron had slammed open the door like he did last summer and all the feelings vanished in a moment. Harry pulled away from Ginny and caught her hands with his own.

“Stop,” he rasped, still feeling his body ache with desire as she lay there, hair strewn on the pillow, cheeks flushed and lips swollen and bruised. She was so beautiful and part of Harry cared little for the fact that this was not how he wanted to become her lover. But the larger part cared for her too much to let that happen. “Not like this. Not because you want to forget. Not because you’d rather give me your body than talk. Not when there’s a chance we’ll regret it.”

“I could never regret it,” Ginny said fiercely. “I will never regret a single moment that I am with you.”

“I would,” said Harry softly as he raised the hands he still held in his own to his lips and kissed them softly.

Ginny made a noise of protest.

“Oh I would never regret that it was you, but I would regret that I stole a moment when you were weak and vulnerable and willing to do anything. I would regret breaking your trust like that.”

Ginny closed her eyes and Harry climbed off her, pulling her up to stand next to him in the middle of her bedroom. He held her carefully and kissed her forehead gently.

“I don’t want to make you cry again,” he whispered. He tucked her head under his chin and caressed her back gently as they stood in her bedroom the curtains drifting in the slight breeze that came in the window.

“I was so alone,” she said eventually. “So lonely.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry whispered feeling like it had all been his fault.

“When I got on the Express I realised,” Ginny said. “I realised I was all alone. For the first time I was away from all my family. I might have pretended for years that nothing would make me happier but really, not having Ron on that train for the first time; it hit me so hard. I waved to Mum and Dad with this big cheesy smile plastered to my face but I just kept hoping they were too far away to see the tears. I was so mad. So mad at them. How could they do this to me? Didn’t they know? Didn’t they know what was going to happen? They must have known the Carrows were Death Eaters. They just sent me off to Hogwarts. All alone.”

“Attendance was compulsory,” Harry murmured into her hair. “You’re Pure-Blood, they had no choice.”

“Neville came along and found me standing at the window,” she continued. “I was just watching the scenery go by in a blur and thinking how every clack of the train was taking me further away from them, and you. Neville dragged me into a compartment and shoved me into a seat next to Luna just before Malfoy came swaggering down the corridor declaring that everyone had to sit down. Talk about a power trip.”

“I thought you’d be with Neville and Luna,” said Harry. “I hoped you were with them.” Ginny looked up at him.

“You were thinking of me?” she asked. Harry nodded.

“Every spare minute,” he replied.

“We started planning then,” Ginny continued, laying her head on Harry’s chest. He pulled her closer. “But at night, when it was just me, alone in my bed, I was lonely. And during the day when I was trying to dodge the Carrows I was lonely.

“Hagrid and Professor McGonagall kept looking at me sadly but they could never tell me anything. They didn’t know where you were any more than I did. Everyone else was convinced I knew something. Goyle was so pleased when he finally got to torture me.”

Harry winced.

“Oh there’s no point prettying it up, Harry,” said Ginny as she pulled away from him. “He thought he’d be able to torture it out of me, where you were, and earn points with Malfoy … or Snape or whoever, I don’t know. That’s what he kept asking me. ‘Where’s Potter? Famous Harry Potter; I bet he’s told his little whore where he is.’ Every day, for three weeks.”

Ginny had backed away from Harry and was leaning against her bedroom door with her arms crossed over her chest, tears glittering in the corners of her eyes. Her voice was getting louder, harsher. Harry wanted to take her in his arms and kiss the pain away but he knew he had to hear it, he couldn’t silence her. It was like a knife twisting in his gut but he owed it to her to listen.

“And after that detention finished Neville and Seamus started taking the fall for anything I said in the hallways or at meals and they made the sixth year boys do the same in class, I had to live with the fact that they did that for me,” she shouted, the tears pouring down her cheeks. “They took that for me! I was running during the day and healing everybody else by night and all because they wanted to get to me, because I love you! And you weren’t there! You weren’t there …”

She finished on a sob and Harry could stand it no longer. In two strides he was gathering her in his arms, trying to soothe away the pain and the hurt. Ginny struggled, resisting his embrace, beating feebly at his chest and the arms encircling her.

“I was all alone,” Ginny cried. “Nobody was there. You weren’t there. I kept seeing you, in my dreams. You were dead, always dead. Every time I closed my eyes I saw you in a crumpled heap and you were dead.”

She stopped struggling and wound her arms tightly around his neck, sobbing into his shoulder. Harry suddenly knew why she’d burst into tears that day on the Roobus and heard her protesting in the Room of Requirement during the Battle.

“I can’t go home! My whole family’s here, I can’t stand waiting there alone and not knowing-”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” Harry held Ginny close, stroking her hair and whispering to her. “I’m not going to leave you again. I promise. You won’t be alone.”

It was some time later that Ginny unwound herself from his neck and reached for a tissue.

“I’m sorry,” she said as she blew her nose. “I just-”

“It’s okay, Ginny,” Harry replied. “I want to know. I need to know. You can always talk to me. You can tell me anything.”

“I know I can,” said Ginny shredding the tissue into tiny pieces. “It’s just … yesterday brought it all back and I’ve been so happy the last few months, with you. I put it out of my mind. I had bad dreams all night and I kept looking over my shoulder every time I went to the bathroom. I just felt … paralysed, so I protected myself the way I was used to doing.”

“That sounds perfectly reasonable to me,” said Harry, levitating the shredded tissue into the wastepaper basket. He reached for her hand. “Thank you for letting me in.” Ginny smiled at him and turned to look at herself in the little mirror on the wall and began fixing her hair.

“You look a fright, dear,” said the mirror. Ginny scowled at it.

“I think you’re beautiful,” Harry said. Ginny arched an eyebrow at him as their eyes locked in the mirror.

“I rather think the tear streaked, puffy, red eyed look is stretching beautiful a bit far.”

“You are always beautiful,” said Harry seriously as he slid his arms around her waist. He bent to kiss her, trailing wet open mouthed kisses along her jaw and down her neck.

“Better not let her mother see that,” said the mirror. Harry growled and pulled Ginny away from it and towards the bed. He wanted to kiss her and touch her, their earlier encounter still fresh in his mind.

“Harry,” Ginny protested, “I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten all day.” Harry raised his head and gazed at her seriously. Her eyes were wide and dark and he was very aware of her curves under his hands. He let out a ragged breath and pressed a last kiss to her nose before letting her go and entwining his hand with hers.

“Ginny?” he said, stopping with his hand on the doorknob.

“Yes?”

“Next time you go for my belt,” he said looking down at her seriously. “I’m going to let you undo it. I’m not going to be able to stop next time.”

Harry hadn’t seen her blush like that in a long time, but he didn’t miss the calculating smile either.