Up until now, most of this story has been a little AU interspersed heavily with canon from the books. The ending of canon begins with this chapter; from here on out, this story is completely AU – straight from my brain to the page to your computer. This chapter also marks the beginning of Ginny’s awakenings of her feelings for Harry. Why this has taken so long is something only she knows; but we’ll start to see more things from her point-of-view. I mentioned before that I’ve been combining chapters to make the posted chapters longer; this chapter was originally like Chapters 23-27; so you can see how far I am ahead! So, this fic won’t have 52 chapters like I originally stated; it will probably be closer 30. Hey! Thanks for reading! I hope you continue to enjoy it!
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Category: Alternate Universe Characters:Harry/Ginny Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, Fluff, General, Romance Warnings: Extreme Language, Sexual Situations Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 725 Summary: Their nightmares and demons bound them together. Their love helped them to survive. Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley knew they needed each other; the trouble was in admitting it. Hitcount: Story Total: 277236; Chapter Total: 16028 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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Chapter 17 Ginny finished putting the Quidditch balls away in the school shed after the first practice of the school year and hurried through the rain back to the school. Harry was waiting for her, his black hair dripping with rain as he leaned casually against the wall just inside the door to the castle. “Thanks for helping me,” she glared at him. “It went much faster doing that all by myself.” Harry grinned at her. “You lost the bet fair and square, Fury. ‘S’not my fault you couldn’t find a Snitch if it pecked you on the ear.” Ginny grumbled something unintelligible, but fell into step beside him. A better idea soon occurred to her, and she went behind him, placing two hands on his shoulders to make him stop. When he’d stilled, she hopped up on his back, wrapping her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. “You can make up for it by carrying me back to the common room,” she said happily. Harry huffed, but grabbed her thighs and hoisted her up farther. “All the way back to the common room? I’m not sure I have the strength.” Ginny reached down and twisted his nipple. He yelped, reached back and pinched her on the bum. “Okay, okay!” she shrieked. “Truce!” Harry laughed and turned right towards Gryffindor Tower. Ginny hugged him tighter. “It feels like we haven’t seen each other since school started,” she said into his ear. “What’s up with that?” Harry shrugged. “You’ve been dating Dean. I didn’t think he’d really want me hanging around.” Ginny stiffened. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry sighed. “Ginny, you have to admit, any boyfriend you have isn’t going to appreciate the way…the way we are.” Ginny found herself agreeing with Harry in spite of the protest welling up inside of her. She’d known that dating Dean would put a barrier between her and Harry. Perhaps that was why she’d done it. The last conversation they had about their relationship had scared her more than she had been willing to admit at the time. She shifted her weight when Harry began to climb the stairs. “Want me to get down?” she teased. “No,” he said, curtly. “I like having you here.” Ginny’s heart fell. “Oh, Harry,” she whispered. She buried her face in the back of his neck and took a deep breath. What had she done? When he reached the top of the stairs she said, “Stop for a minute.” He stopped, and she slid down his back. When he turned around to face her, she looked up at him, biting on her lower lip. “I’m sorry,” she said. Harry’s brow wrinkled. “For what?” “For dating Dean?” Harry smiled and put his hands on her shoulders. “Ginny, you’re allowed to have a boyfriend. It was bound to happen sooner or later.” “Yeah, but it’s changed us. I don’t want that to happen. Especially after the fuss I raised when you dated Cho.” He stepped closer and slid his arms around her shoulders and down her spine to rest lightly on the small of her back. Ginny tried to suppress both the shiver it caused and the knowledge that Dean’s hands on her did not cause such a reaction. “How long did you think we could last like that?” he asked her quietly. “It was a nice, little bubble we were in but you’re the one who agreed to go out with him. He couldn’t handle it Ginny. He wouldn’t like it.” “You make our friendship sound wrong,” she argued. “Oh, Fury,” he sighed. She clutched his Quidditch t-shirt in her fists and Harry tightened his arms around her. Ginny tried to ignore the safety she felt in his embrace and pressed her forehead to his chest. “It isn’t wrong,” he assured her. “It’s just different. You know that. I’ve tried to stay away because I don’t want to interfere or for Dean to get the wrong idea.” Ginny nodded slowly. “Fine. But just because I’m dating someone doesn’t mean we can’t hang out.” She wasn’t going to beg him, but she felt a little panicked at the thought of not having Harry around. “Okay,” he smiled down at her. “We’ll both work on it.” She lifted her chin. “Kiss me,” she pleaded. Ginny knew she shouldn’t ask, but she needed the contact with him — even though it had been her decision to put distance between them. He lowered his head, but stopped a hairsbreadth away from her lips. “Dean wouldn’t like it,” he whispered. “Sod him,” she whispered and closed the distance between them. The kiss was different than the friendly kisses they’d shared in the past. Ginny had always tried not to analyze those kisses -- had always accepted them for whatever they were. But this kiss — this kiss was different. Harry pressed her against him with a moan and moved his lips against hers like he’d been starving for just a taste. Her hands reached up and fisted in his hair as she pressed back. Kissing Dean was nice, fantastic even, but kissing Harry like this — it stopped time. Her mouth opened underneath his, and his tongue darted forward. As soon she tasted him, Ginny knew she was in over her head. He was addictive. Her first instinct was to break the kiss and run for the hills. But hotter heads prevailed, and she whimpered as she tilted her head to deepen the kiss. No other kiss she’d ever had could compare; she felt sleepy and achy, almost swept out of herself. Harry’s tongue delved deeper into her mouth, sliding sensuously along her tongue until he finally wrenched his mouth away and pressed his forehead against hers. “Ginny,” he panted, “we can’t.” Ginny nodded, her forehead still on his. “Sorry,” she said, breathing heavily. “Guess I got carried away. It just-” she let go of his hair and cupped his face with her hands. “It just feels like you’re saying goodbye.” “Not goodbye,” he said fiercely. “But you chose this, Ginny.” “Well, what else was I supposed to choose?” she asked him quietly. “I’m not making a choice between you or him, Harry. He’s my boyfriend and you’re my friend. I can have both. I need you both.” Harry shook his head ruefully, as if he knew something she didn’t. “Of course you can, Fury. But we can’t kiss like that again if you expect Dean to remain your boyfriend.” Ginny blushed and hit him on the shoulder. “Git. I can’t help it if I’m such a good kisser that you lose control.” Harry feigned outraged. “Excuse me; I believe you were the one who was whimpering.” Ginny hit him again, but he captured her hand and kissed the palm. “C’mon, let’s get back to the common room.” He motioned towards his back with his thumb. “Hop on.” Ginny grinned and climbed back up his back, and Harry carried her all the way to Gryffindor Tower. She chatted happily the whole way, but inside she felt like she was being twisted in two. Later that night, Ginny sat with Dean in front of the fireplace after everyone else had gone to bed. He put his arm around her shoulder and hugged her to him, but never noticed Ginny tracing her lips with her fingertips. She hoped that if he did, he would assume she was thinking of his kisses instead of Harry’s. ******** “You want us to what?” Harry and Ginny both stared at Professor Dumbledore in shock. Harry wasn’t sure he’d heard the Headmaster correctly. When the Headmaster had asked them to join him for tea on Saturday, Harry had figured he wanted to discuss what had happened in June at the Ministry of Magic. He never would have dreamed Dumbledore would be asking for them to continue the D.A. “Sir,” Ginny said doubtfully, “we just formed the D.A. because that toad Umbridge wasn’t teaching us any practical defence. Now that Professor Lupin is back, there’s no need for it.” “There is always a need to learn more Defence Against the Dark Arts,” Dumbledore said mildly. “Particularly in light of the way Voldemort has been amassing various dark creatures to his side. I would like to reinstate the D.A. with Professor Lupin as an official sponsor of the club, and I would like you both to lead it.” ”Are — are you sure?” ”Completely. Only, let’s change the name shall we? Cornelius Fudge’s tenure as Minister of Magic is tenuous at best; there’s no need to torture him further.” “I guess we could call it the Defence Association,” Harry said slowly. “But…why us? Surely there are some seventh year students who would be better equipped to-” “You think someone else other than you and Ginny could teach more to these students about defending themselves against Voldemort and his Death Eaters?” Dumbledore raised his eyes at him and lowered his tea cup. He peered at them over the top edge of his glasses. “I believe Ms. Granger’s original reasoning for asking you to teach the students was well thought out. Who better to teach than one who knows?” ”Professor,” Ginny began, “couldn’t you teach it? Wouldn’t that be better?” ”I would like this to be a student organization,” he reminded her. “Of course, this means you will have to open the club up to everyone, including the Slytherins. Shall we say, third year and above?” “That’s a lot of people to teach,” Harry commented. “I’m sure you can handle it,” Dumbledore smiled. “It will be less hands-on of course, but still effective. I will expect you to review things that Professor Lupin cannot cover in class.” Harry looked at Ginny, and she nodded at him. He turned back to Dumbledore. “All right, we’ll do it. Thanks for asking us, Professor.” Dumbledore gave him a slight nod. “It is I who should be thanking you.” He took another sip of tea before setting it gently on the desk in front of him. “I have another request.” Ginny stiffened, but Dumbledore only twinkled at them. “I believe it is time to take a more…personal interest in your education. I would like to begin private duelling lessons with you both.” His announcement dropped like a stone in the room, but Harry couldn’t stop the sudden grin that spread over his face. Private lessons…with Dumbledore? It was a like a dream come true. Finally, maybe he’d feel ready to take on Voldemort. He’d always escaped through sheer dumb luck before… “Why?” Ginny’s question came out more laced with suspicion, and Harry looked at her in surprise. Dumbledore also looked at her, but didn’t seem surprised at her question. “Voldemort is after you both,” he said bluntly. “And after what I saw in June, I realized I’d underestimated the lengths to which he would go to capture either one of you. Although I think you both really damaged him that night, he will come back with a vengeance, and I would like you both to be prepared.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Perhaps I’m being a bit egotistical but I don’t trust anyone other than myself to perform this task. You will, of course, be expected to pass on some of the more basic techniques to the D.A., but the majority of our lessons together will have to remain private.” Once again, Harry and Ginny looked at each other, asking silent questions through their eyes. In Harry’s mind, there was no question whether they should say yes. Ginny seemed unsure, and Harry remembered that she was always a bit paranoid about the power that Tom Riddle had left in her. Even during friendly duels with him last year, she’d worked to keep a tight control. “Don’t worry,” he hissed to her in parseltongue, “you won’t hurt anyone. I trust you.” Ginny sighed and looked at Dumbledore. “Okay,” she simply said. And just like that, Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley became Albus Dumbledore’s apprentices. ******* Two months later: Harry walked slowly around the DA room, his sharp eyes taking in the various duels around him. He nodded approvingly at Neville who was duelling fiercely with Luna and had just shot an excellent stunner at the Ravenclaw who had barely been able to sidestep it. Neville had really improved. His eyes shifted over to find Ginny who was working with a few of the Slytherins who had joined the group this year. They were working on Patronuses and Harry delighted in seeing Ginny’s lion Patronus run circles around the wisps of smoke and shapeless animals the rest of them were producing. Ginny chose that moment to glance up and when she saw him watching her, she smiled at him with a knowing grin. He smiled back. Things between them were good. It’d been two months since their kiss in the hallway after the year’s first Quidditch practice, and they’d managed to find some sort of balance. Ginny seemed genuinely happy with Dean, although it was weird for Harry to watch her with someone. He’d told her as much several times, and she would heartily agree with him every time he said it. Sometimes the kiss they’d shared haunted him, and Harry fancied his lips were still burning. Harry wondered if Ginny would ever acknowledge the attraction between them. If he’d understood Ginny any less, he would have been hurt, confused and angry by her actions. Instead, he understood all too well. The Wednesday evening lessons with Dumbledore were, as Ginny put it, “fucking awesome.” Harry had laughed with shock when Ginny had put it that way, but he’d had to agree; they were both learning more than they ever thought possible. The only drawback, and Harry wasn’t entirely sure this was a drawback, was that duelling with Ginny was – to put it bluntly – a turn on. He’d been embarrassed more than once when at the end of a duel, he’d wanted to throw down his wand and snog the living dead out of his best friend. The attraction he felt for her usually simmered pleasantly under the surface, but when they duelled, the adrenaline amplified those feelings until Harry’s gut was a churning mass of lust and desire. Usually he settled things by going for a fly, but more often than not, he’d wished he had his own girlfriend. He would have been even more embarrassed if he hadn’t suspected the duels did the same thing to Ginny; he’d caught that same glitter in her eyes many times. “Day dreaming, Professor Potter?” He shook his head and turned with a smirk to see Ginny grinning at him. She’d taken to calling him that lately because he was so “authoritative” with the D.A. members. He closed the few steps between them and ran a hand through her red silk hair, tugging playfully on the ends. “You look tired, Gin. Been getting enough sleep?” She had dark circles under her eyes, and she’d been a little grumpy lately. After three years of friendship, Harry was remarkably tuned to Ginny’s moods. It was her turn to shake her head. “Not enough,” she said ruefully. “Nightmares. And since I can’t come and sleep with you…” her voice trailed off helplessly, and she shrugged her shoulders. Harry reached for her hand. ”Sorry, Fury.” They’d agreed that Ginny sleeping in Harry’s bed while Dean was in the same room would just be cruel. But they both suffered for their nobility. Just as Ginny needed Harry to keep away her nightmares, he needed her to keep away his. Last year, they’d spent a least one night a week together – this year they hadn’t spent any. “Me too,” she said ruefully. “But it makes me feel guilty to say that. Does it make me a bad girlfriend?” “Nah. Just…conflicted. It’s not wrong to want a decent night’s sleep.” “Anyway, it’s Christmas in a few weeks,” Harry added, as they both turned back to the room, their eyes wandering over the active club members. “Dean’s going home, isn’t he? You can sleep with me then if you need to.” Ginny’s face lit up. “That’s right! Oh, thank Merlin.” Ginny did not consider this to be cheating. She and Harry just slept in his bed; this simple act stopped the nightmares most of the time, and she’d be damned if she was going to spend the Christmas holidays fighting Tom Riddle and whatever horrors he deemed to send her way. And if Dean found out and didn’t understand that, then she’d chuck him. When they’d first started dating, she was pleased that he respected her independence; lately it seemed like he was trying to…conquer it instead. Christmas holidays soon arrived and Harry, Hermione and the Weasleys were the only ones left in the tower. Harry was looking forward to a relaxing vacation and had forgotten all about Ginny being able to share his bed until the night after everyone had gone home. Ginny woke him up about 2 a.m. and despite her pale, sweaty appearance, Harry sat up in bed and looked stupidly at her. She smiled weakly at him, but he grabbed her around the waist and dragged her over him and down to the mattress. He rolled onto top of her and settled his weight on her happily, laying his cheek on the red hair strewn across his pillow. “Harry-“ “Ssshhh,” he silenced her with a brief kiss on the lips and tried not to linger. “Go back to sleep.” She shoved at him weakly. “Harry, get off. I can’t sleep with you on top of me.” He huffed and shifted his weight so to the side so that he was still mostly on top of her but not so heavy. “Let me hold you,” he begged sleepily. “It’s been so long, Ginny…” his voice trailed off and Ginny sighed exasperatedly when she heard his deep breaths as he lapsed into sleep. She tried to wriggle out from underneath him but he just tugged her closer and buried his face in her neck. “Stop moving, Fury,” he mumbled and dropped back off to sleep. Ginny sighed heavily, amazed that she could take such a deep breath, and resigned herself to sleeping underneath him. She let sleepiness overtake her and soon, Harry’s weight felt comfortable pressing her into the mattress. She just hoped he didn’t drool on her neck. Harry awoke when the morning sun finally pierced through a gap in the curtains surrounding his bed. He lifted his head from his red pillow and was surprised to find Ginny still sleeping soundly underneath him. He vaguely remembered her coming to his bed the night before and being so happy to see her that he’d insisted on trapping her to the bed, afraid she’d leave. Harry shifted his weight to his elbows on either side of her head and looked down at her. She looked so peaceful, so content, lying there in his bed, her gorgeous hair covering his pillow. He felt his body begin to react to her warm body underneath him and stifled a groan. He’d have to move now; this usually happened when he woke up with Ginny, but he always managed to move before she realized what was happening to him. He fought the instinct to move against her, but when she arched up a little and breathed his name softly in her sleep, he couldn’t stop himself from lowering his head and placing his open mouth against her bare collarbone. His tongue flickered out and tasted her skin as he rubbed his lips back and forth softly, determined not to let his mouth travel further. He had no business doing this to another guy’s witch. With a muttered oath, he tore himself away and rolled off of Ginny for the first time in hours. His body immediately felt cold and he sat up on the edge of the bed, facing away from her. “Harry?” Ginny’s head lifted from the pillow and she looked around for him through bleary eyes. “Go back to sleep, Gin,” he said, looking at her over his shoulder. “I’m gonna go take a shower.” “M’kay,” she stretched like a cat and rolled to her side, snuggling down into his pillows and curling up underneath his blankets. She hadn’t needed a blanket last night because he, Harry, had lain on top of her. He showered quickly and dressed as silently as possible, determined not to wake her since she’d not been sleeping well lately. He closed the dorm room door quietly behind him and headed down to breakfast. ******* Ginny slept through breakfast and when he went back up to get her for lunch, she was already gone. Still feeling weird about the night before and the morning, Harry didn’t actively seek her out until she didn’t show up for dinner. Then he sighed in exasperation, slapped a couple of sandwiches together and went immediately to the Room of Requirement. Harry entered the room to find Ginny in her usual black sports bra and pants using a punching bag. She’d obviously been at it for quite a while because she’d sweated through the stretchy cotton material and sweat ran in rivulets down her chest and back. He asked the room for a table and set one sandwich down on a plate that appeared and ate the other one while he watched her. Something was upsetting her; that much was obvious by the way she was pummelling the bag. She didn’t give any indication that she knew he was there, but he didn’t think his arrival had gone unnoticed. After several minutes, she gave a final, half-hearted punch and the bag disappeared. She didn’t look at him as she undid her gloves with her teeth and shrunk them with her wand before shoving everything back into a nearby bag. Only then did she turn to him, still wiping her face with a towel. ”Thanks,” she said, reaching for the sandwich he’d left for her on the table. He let her chew a few bites in silence and then: “Want to tell me what that was all about?” “Not really,” she shrugged. “Want to tell me why you disappeared all day?” ”No,” she said flatly. “Okay. What do you want to do?” She finished her sandwich and brushed the crumbs from her hands with a flourish. “How ‘bout a duel?” He looked at her thoughtfully. “Aren’t you already tired?” “Nope.” She bounded out of her chair and walked over to her bag along the wall. As she retrieved her wand, the room they were in lengthened and expanded until it looked like the D.A. room. Harry gave in and stood up, pulling his jumper over his head and removing his shirt until he stood in an undershirt and jeans. He pulled out his wand and stood about ten paces from her. ”You’re not going to tell me what’s going on until we do this, are you?” She shook her head. “Maybe not even then.” “Is it bad?” He threw a weak Stunner at her, just to get things started. She countered with a tickling jinx that he dodged. “It was just another nightmare.” “How bad?” He tried a disarming spell, but he hadn’t put enough power behind it, and she managed to hold onto her wand. “It’s the same one I’ve had for weeks. Basically, Voldemort kills everyone.” She went into a series of spells that distracted him, and the friendly duel suddenly morphed into a high-powered, intensity-charged fight that took every ounce of his concentration. Ginny looked exhilarated as she dodged and fired spells. Harry felt his adrenaline rise until the tension between them was almost a physical thing. Unsaid feelings and desires sparkled like electricity in the air. This was probably a really bad idea; normally they would be duelling in front of Professor Dumbledore whose presence kept things from getting out of hand. "She’s Dean’s girlfriend, she’s your best friend," Harry chanted to himself over and over again even as he fired hexes at her. He finally hit her with a tripping jinx, and she stumbled around. Before he could fire the counter spell, she’d tripped into him and they went crashing to the duelling mat. Ginny landed on top of him, breathing heavily; each breath she took sent her chest into his, and he felt like moaning in pleasure. She panted on top of him, her eyes boring into his, her pupils glittering. Harry couldn’t look away, couldn’t stop himself from digging his fingers into the sides of her waist and lifting his chin. Ginny shook with the struggle to contain herself on top of him, and he sensed she was losing. He wasn’t stupid, he knew what that look meant – he’d seen it on her face before. Her hand let go of her wand, and it fell to the floor with a clatter as she reached up and fisted her fingers in his hair. Hesitatingly, as if she hadn’t quite made up her mind but was powerless to stop, Ginny lowered her mouth to his. Their open mouths met. Lips touched lips and stopped. They exchanged breaths, and Harry couldn’t stop his tongue from inching forward to meet hers and stopping just past the threshold of her lips. She hovered over him, her mouth open over his, the tip of her tongue touching his. They hung there suspended in the beginning stages of a kiss. Harry knew that if she moved, even a little, he would roll her over and grind his hips into hers to show her exactly what she did to him. With a tortured gasp that was more of a sob, Ginny dragged her lips across his and opened her mouth on his jaw, her teeth biting gently into his skin. She stopped there, not trusting herself to move more. Harry could feel her mouth poised to nibble on his jaw; each one of her teeth a tiny pulse point in his skin. He waited with bated breath for her to decide; he wasn’t going to be the one to move things further. The desire between them had been building for years. It swirled around them, pushing them closer together. Finally with a moan, Ginny gathered the strength to roll off of Harry. She collapsed on her back next to him on the mat and muttered, “Fuck” beneath her breath. Exactly, Harry thought. He didn’t look at her but sat up, resting his forearms on his bent knees and hanging his head in his hands. They didn’t speak. Finally Ginny cleared her throat and said, “Maybe we shouldn’t duel alone anymore.” Harry nodded, his head still in his hands, “Agreed.” “Harry? Are you-” “I just need a minute,” he said hoarsely. Harry urged his body to return to normal; he forced the adrenaline back down and said the earlier chant over and over again in his head. He tried to replace the memory of the look of sheer desire on Ginny’s face with one of Dean Thomas’ smiling one. Eventually he stood up and asked the room for a drink of water that he gulped down. He walked over to where he’d flung his jumper and shirt and busied himself with putting them back on. He stiffened when he felt a small hand on his shoulder. “Dammit, Ginny,” he said, running a hand through his hair. “Do you have any idea what you do to me sometimes? How far you push me?” She took her hand off his shoulder, stung. “What about how far you push me?” she demanded. “What was that this morning, huh? You think I didn’t feel that?” Harry turned around, his face guilty. “Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “I didn’t think you were awake.” “I wasn’t,” she retorted. “Until I felt you lick-” she broke off and ran a hand over her face. “Look, I’m just going to say what we’re both thinking, okay. Save us some time.” She took a deep breath. “I’m attracted to you. I always have been. And even though we’re just friends, when we duel…well, all that comes out. Dueling with you-” she broke off and shook her head. “It’s a bloody turn-on,” Harry finished. “Yeah,” she smiled in relief. He took a step closer. “I’m attracted to you too, Ginny. I don’t think I’ve made a secret of that. But I’m damned if I know what to do about it.” “Do about it?” she looked at him warily. “Why should we do anything about it?” He stopped short. “You don’t think we should do anything about this.” He gestured between them. “No,” she said defiantly. “No?” “No.” “Well, that’s just the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said angrily. “You can’t just sweep something like that under the rug and ignore it.” “We can,” she said stubbornly. “We have to.” “We’ve been doing it for three years!” Harry exploded. “It isn’t working, Ginny! It keeps coming back up! And it’s going to keep coming back up until we deal with it.” “What do you want me to say, Harry? I’m with Dean, and I care about him.” Ginny crossed her arms in front of her chest. “We can’t just snog and hope it gets out of our system.” Harry stared at her. The truth was he didn’t know what he wanted her to say. Was he prepared to ask her to chuck Dean over on the chance that they might be able to have something beyond friendship? What if it didn’t work out? Then he’d have lost Ginny. Harry waged an internal war with himself. Part of him wanted to fight for her, for what he suspected they could have. There was something looming in the back of his mind, but he couldn’t identify what it was; it was a reason, he was sure of that. The other part realized that Ginny gave him more than she gave everyone else; he was happy with that, and the knowledge that Dean would never have all of her. “You’re right,” he sighed. “I don’t want to jeopardize our friendship, Ginny. You mean everything to me.” “Oh, Harry, me too,” she swallowed. “What’s wrong with us? Why do we keep doing this?” Harry wisely kept silent. He knew there was more between them than this; but he was too much of a coward to admit it without a guarantee she felt the same way. Despite the intensity of their duel and the near-snogging incident afterwards, Harry and Ginny fell back into their old routine. Privately, Harry moped for a few days but eventually he realized that if he wanted things to remain the same between them, he would have to suck it up and learn to be happy with the status quo. If only he could figure out what the status quo was. They were friends? Yes. With something more? Maybe. They were attracted to each other? Yes. Were they going to do anything about it? No. What they had was enough. Wasn’t it? The whole thing was damned confusing and, not for the first time, Harry wished Sirius was there to hash the whole thing out with. He’d gladly have talked to Ron about it if he hadn’t been Ginny’s brother. He nearly discussed it with Hermione, but decided that wouldn’t be fair to Ginny. Two weeks of nightmare-free nights went too fast, and the first night the rest of the school returned found Harry cold and alone in bed. He missed Ginny. Missed her warmth, missed the way she smelled, missed the feeling of her small frame against him. Angrily, he sat up and punched his pillow. He really needed to get a life…get a girlfriend…something. ******* Ginny studied the cards in her hand and carefully hid her smirk. It really was too easy sometimes; like taking a chocolate frog from a baby. “I’ll raise you two,” Ron threw a couple of sickles into the pot in the centre of the table and looked inquiringly at Seamus. “I’ll see your two and raise you,” Seamus counted under his breath, “five.” Dean groaned and tossed his cards down. “I fold.” Lavender tapped a perfectly manicured fingernail on the table. She was a decent poker player, but she got bored easily and never lasted very long at their games. Boredom made her reckless, and she would either win large pots or lose all her money in one fell swoop. With a dainty sigh, Lavender also folded, and it was Colin’s turn. “I don’t like the look on her face,” he said, motioning to Ginny. “Me?” Ginny asked innocently. “What look?” “No look,” he retorted, “that’s the problem. You look too innocent. I fold.” He threw his cards to the table and sat back in his chair. Ginny shrugged and all eyes turned to Harry. Realizing it was his turn, he stopped shuffling the cards in his hand and looked up. Ginny felt a familiar swoop in her stomach when she saw the competitive glint in his eye. “Seven to me?” he asked mildly. His eyes shot briefly to Ginny’s, and he casually tossed seven sickles into the pot. “I’ll raise ten,” he added, and tossed ten more sickles into the pile at the centre of the table. Ron huffed, looked down at his cards and with a tortured sigh, folded. Seamus followed, leaving Harry and Ginny the only two players left. The entire table groaned. “Not again,” Lavender complained. “Why does it always come down to those two?” She waved a hand at Harry and Ginny. “It’s the way of the world,” Seamus explained. “All things come down to Harry and Ginny…especially poker.” “We’re going to be here all night,” Ron grumped. “They’ll go on for hours now and Ginny’ll wind up betting all the clothing on her back and my parents’ house again.” “Oh please, Ron,” Ginny scoffed. “I was six years old the last time I did that. And if you’ll recall, I won that hand.” Harry shifted in his seat to face her. “It’s your bet, Fury.” Carefully maintaining her expression of disinterest, Ginny selected ten sickles from her pile and met Harry’s raise. She studied him carefully. He was almost as good as she was by this point, but he still had a few tells. If he was bluffing, he usually took a swig of Butterbeer every few minutes. If he had a good hand, he looked impatiently at the person who sat to his right. She watched, waiting for him to take a sip or to look at Colin. He did neither; she had no idea what that meant. Shrugging mentally, she raised the pot by two galleons. “Are you bluffing me, Fury?” Harry met her raise and added five galleons. Her eyebrows lifted at the steep raise, but she gave no other indication of emotion. “Probably,” she answered. “Should we make this interesting then?” Ginny added eight more galleons to the pot. “That isn’t interesting enough for you?” Harry saw her bet with his galleons; it was time to show the cards, but he wanted to make one final bet. “If I win, you have to teach me that spell that Fred and George taught you last summer that you kept such a secret.” Fred and George had been very mysterious about the whole thing and ever since Harry had found out that Ginny had been sworn to secrecy, he’d been dying to know what the spell did. She eyed him shrewdly, but she did not look back down at her cards. “Fine,” she agreed. “But if I win, you have to wear a girl’s uniform to classes every day next week.” The boys hooted and Lavender giggled. “I’ve got a green hair ribbon that would go lovely with your eyes, Harry.” He ignored her and scowled at Ginny. “You can’t make that bet. I’ll get detention.” She shrugged. “Well, if you’re too scared…” His eyes narrowed. “I know what you’re trying to do, it won’t work.” “So you won’t make the bet?” “No,” he said stubbornly, “pick something else.” “Fine.” She smiled evilly. “All right, if you lose, I get to cut your hair.” “You want to cut my hair?” He looked at her doubtfully and not, Ginny noticed, without a small amount of suspicion. She nodded. “I know this is probably some sort of trick but…all right.” He laid down his cards and Seamus whistled. ”Blimey, a flush.” Ginny sat up in her chair and looked tragic. “That’s an excellent hand, Harry.” Her face broke into a slow, evil smile. “I promise this hurts me more than it hurts you.” One by one, Ginny laid her cards on the table. When she was done, she was showing a Royal flush. Harry swore impressively, and Ginny stood up and took several bows as her fellow Gryffindors clapped and cheered. “Hermione!” she called, “Go fetch the scissors!” The next morning, Harry walked into the Great Hall amid the cheers and jeers of his classmates. Ginny had done more than cut his hair, she’d shaved it into a buzz cut, dyed it blond, and then used magic to carve her name in the back. Ginny waved merrily as admirers congratulated her on Harry’s new hairdo. She took her seat at the breakfast table next to a scowling Harry and rubbed the fuzz on his head fondly. “Stop it,” he hissed, jerking his head away. “I’ll get you back for this, Fury.” “Oh, stuff it,” she said, reaching for the eggs. “You lost and I won, fair and square. Besides, I wanted to write, “Ginny Weasley is the superior poker player” on the back but your head isn’t big enough. I’m the one who should be upset.” “Dying it and carving your name into the back wasn’t part of the bet,” he said through gritted teeth. “Artistic license,” she said airily. “Here, have some eggs.” She plopped a spoonful onto his plate and added some bacon. Harry grumpily ate his eggs and bacon, ignoring Ron’s snickers. Not used to being so bare, his head was rather cold. He would have complained about that too, but there was no telling what sort of hat Ginny would conjure up for him. Ginny’s triumph over Harry was short-lived; his hair grew back practically overnight leaving him with blond tips at the end of his usual black shaggy hair. He considered retaliation, but decided to be a good sport about losing the game and left it alone. “I need a girlfriend,” Harry announced one evening. He and Ginny were working on their lesson plans for the next month’s D.A.; they had to submit the lessons plans to Dumbledore well in advance. “What?” Ginny looked up from the chart she’d been drawing. “I need someone to snog, Ginny, and you’re unavailable,” he said plainly. “I need someone else to hang out with. I’m sort of pathetic right now.” “Well, I knew that.” A smile quirked at the corner of her lips. “But don’t you think you should date someone because you like them, not just because you need a good snog?” “Although,” she added, “if you simply wanted someone to snog, there are probably lots of girls who would be happy to-“ “No,” he said hastily. “I don’t want that kind of girl. I want someone who’s more serious than that.” “Okay,” she said crisply, “what kind of girl do you want?” "Someone like you," he thought. Out loud he said, “Hell, Ginny. I don’t know. I just want someone I can talk to; who likes me for me and not for all that Boy-Who-Lived crap.” Ginny thought for a moment. “So probably a Gryffindor then…” her voice trailed off. Ginny knew she didn’t want to have this conversation with Harry. She had no right to feel that way – she was with Dean –and she felt like a complete bitch for even thinking it. Harry was her best friend, and she had never wanted to jeopardize that; but she’d be lying if she said the thought of Harry dating someone didn’t give her insides a funny squirm. With an inward sigh, she allowed herself to admit what she’d secretly known for some time: There was something more between her and Harry than just friendship. She had no idea how far it could go and no willing desire to confess it. But it had always been there, lurking in the background. If Tom hadn’t broken into her dreams so often to show her what he could do to Harry, she might have pursued things a bit more. The truth was that Harry had been more than a friend for a very long time. Ginny wasn't stupid, even though she pretended to be about such things. She'd known something deeper existed between them since the summer after Sirius died. But she'd kept the secret to herself and never let on that she suspected. The knowledge had washed over her in one bright, sweet moment the same morning her mother had caught them in Harry’s bed; she had been alone in the Quidditch pitch, cleaning up the sticks from the grass as a punishment. But that moment of clarity was forever ruined by Tom's sudden awakening inside of her. He had gripped her soul and her mind with such fierceness that she'd cried out in terror and collapsed to the ground. She had lain there, spread-eagled, wide-eyed at the sky and panting while Tom hissed to her. He'd threatened Harry, her friends, her family, everyone she'd ever loved -- but most of all Harry. The pain of the memory washed over her and she resolved once again, to keep Harry safe...especially from herself. Harry dropped his quill on the floor and Ginny took the precious seconds while he bent down to pick it up to close her eyes in defeat. When he sat back up, she had a smile on her face; hoping he couldn’t see what was hidden beneath it. ******* Ginny tried not to frown at her boyfriend’s hand wrapped around her own. It wasn’t that she objected so much to the handholding; it was the WAY he was holding it that irritated her. He grasped her small fingers in his larger palm and she couldn’t help but compare it to the way Harry had always held her hand. When Harry took her hand, he held it with confidence and assurance, always lacing their fingers together so they were equally participating in the intimacy. Dean held onto her as if she would soon escape from him. It made her feel trapped. Lately Ginny had found herself comparing everything about Dean to Harry. The way he stroked her hair was not done with the same reverence as Harry; the way his eyes flashed when he was aroused or angry, or both, was less sexy on Dean; the way he almost never fought with her – always giving in even when she was being a total prat. When he kissed her, although it was very nice, it never made her knees buckle or her heart pound with the same intensity it had last year when she and Harry had frantically made out at Grimmauld Place. Ginny knew she was in trouble. Every time Dean kissed her, she flashed back to that moment over Christmas when she had almost kissed Harry again after their duel in the Room of Requirement. To make matters worse, they were duelling on a regular basis as a team against Dumbledore. The way she and Harry moved together in opposition to another opponent was like what Ginny imagined sex would be. They anticipated each other’s movement and glided around each other until Ginny was panting, but not from the effort of the duel. Many times after a duel, Harry would excuse himself quickly and exit the room; leaving Ginny breathing heavily and looking sheepishly back at Dumbledore. Their mentor never said anything about the obvious tension in the room, but his eyes twinkled merrily. Only one time had Harry lost a little bit of his control. Dumbledore had snuck out as soon as the duel was over and Ginny had been wiping the sweat from her face with a towel when Harry finally threw his own towel to the floor with a fierce growl. He’d stalked over to her and grabbed her around the waist, lowering his mouth to her neck with a groan. He’d sucked the tender flesh into his hot mouth hard enough to leave a mark and just when Ginny had felt her knees do that damned buckling thing again, he’d pushed her away with a snarl and left the room. Ginny had been forced to cover the mark he’d left on her with a concealing charm; they hadn’t spoken about what had happened, but the next day, Ginny had found a single white rose on her pillow when she’d woken up. It was an apology and she accepted it without question. She knew she should be mad at him, but since she’d enjoyed the moment too much, she punished herself by quickly forgiving him. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand what was happening to her; the issue came when preparing to fight her growing attraction to her best friend. Besides the obvious issues, her nightmares about Tom had made it clear that he did not approve of such feelings. When they weren’t duelling on a regular basis, Ginny enjoyed their friendship. It was a lot easier to run from her feelings without any unresolved sexual tension to cloud the issue. Harry was making good on his plan to get a girlfriend and had already chatted up every fifth year girl and above in Hogwarts. He was searching, he claimed, for the perfect woman. He hadn’t had much luck though and was discouraged enough to ask Parvati Patil out for the final Hogsmeade weekend of the year. Ginny had flinched when he told her, but had pasted on a smile she was sure he’d been able to see through. Ginny’s nightmares were changing slowly over time. She dreamt more and more of the Chamber of Secrets and a desire to see the place where she’d lost so much began to take shape. It was ridiculous that she was still having nightmares about something that happened over four years ago and although she figured she’d always have the dreams about Tom Riddle possessing her, perhaps a visit to the Chamber of Secrets would lay to rest some of the other nightmares. “Do you ever think about going back down to the Chamber of Secrets?” she asked Harry late one night in the common room. They’d both been unable to sleep and had happened to come down the stairs around the same time. Harry stroked a gentle hand down her hair. She was curled up against his side on the couch, her legs tucked underneath her. He was a lot more affectionate with her when Dean wasn’t around – they both were – and although she tried to feel like she was doing something wrong, it was impossible when she and Harry were so used to being this way with each other. “No,” he said finally. “I don’t. I have nightmares about it, but I’ve never thought about going back down there.” They were quiet a little longer and Ginny felt her eyes grow heavy; the warmth of Harry’s hard chest under her cheek and the security with which his arm was wrapped around her lulled her closer to sleep. ”Wait a minute, do you think about that?” Harry sounded more awake than he had a few minutes ago. She yawned. “Yes of course. I’ve been wondering if seeing it again would stop some of the nightmares.” His arm tightened around her. “Ginny, promise me you won’t go down there. It’s…it’s dangerous and scary and I’m pretty sure it would only add to the nightmares.” She laughed. “I’m not going to make a promise like that, Harry. Who do you think you are? My mother?” Harry gripped her by her forearms and lifted her torso off his chest so he could look her in the eyes. “I’m someone who cares for you very much,” he said firmly. “And I don’t want you to get hurt by going down there. It’s not worth it. There’s nothing left for you there.” “I see that damn place in my dreams two or three times a week,” she explained quietly. “If seeing it again will put those memories to rest-“ “It won’t,” Harry said forcefully. “It couldn’t.” “How do you know?” ”I just do,” he said helplessly. “Please, Ginny.” She shook her head and stood up. “I can’t make you any promise, Harry. I’m sorry. I don’t have plans to do it right now, maybe I never will. But if seeing it helps get past the nightmares then I’m willing to do just about anything.” “Then take me with you,” he demanded from his seat on the couch. Ginny took a step back. “I think this is something I have to do by myself,” she said cautiously. “Ginny,” he said sharply. “You cannot go down there by yourself!” She sighed and looked away, gathering her thoughts. “Fine,” she said, looking back at him. “I’ll tell you before I go. I promise.” Harry seemed mollified by this and she kissed him softly on the cheek before going back up to bed. Whether it was because he refused to accept it or because he genuinely forgot the conversation, the idea that Ginny wanted to visit the Chamber of Secrets again eventually slipped Harry’s mind. His date with Parvati was in a few days and he wasn’t quite sure what it meant that he was more apprehensive than excited. Weren’t guys supposed to look forward to dates? “Why did you ask her out if you don’t want to go?” Ron asked reasonably. Harry just shrugged. “She doesn’t giggle too much and she’s reasonably intelligent.” ”She’s not too bad looking,” Ron commented. “Yeah,” Harry said dully. “She’s got a sort of exotic look about her. Only-“ “Only what?” Ron asked shrewdly. He sat down on his bed and faced Harry in their dorm room. “Well…I just go for a different-looking sort of girl,” Harry told him. ”Partial to redheads are you?” Ron lifted his eyebrows, but Harry scowled back at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?” It was Ron’s turn to shrug. “Thought it was pretty self-explanatory.” He stood back up and flicked Harry on the forehead before leaving the room. Harry remained on his bed, wishing that Ron would stop talking in riddles. He seemed to be implying something about Ginny, but if he wished Harry and his sister would start dating then he should just come out and say it, instead of beating about the bush the whole time. With a sigh, Harry pushed himself off his bed and made his way downstairs. It was time to take Parvati to Hogsmeade. As it turned out, the date wasn’t half-bad. Parvati seemed extremely nervous, and he had a hard time getting her to say what she wanted to do in the village, but as it didn’t end in tears and accusations that Harry was two-timing her with Hermione, Harry considered the date a success. They said an awkward goodbye in the front hall, and Parvati left to go meet some friends in the library. When Harry made it back to Gryffindor Tower, he was shocked to find Ginny and Dean arguing loudly in the common room. “I was not!” Ginny was saying hotly. “I didn’t mean it that way!” “So what did it mean then, Ginny?” Dean asked in a hard voice. Ginny’s jaw worked furiously. “It’s none of your business.” “I see,” he said in a flat voice. “Well, when you decide to let me know why my girlfriend was saying someone else’s name in her sleep, perhaps you’ll be kind enough to let me know.” He turned and stomped back up the stairs. “Ginny?” Harry looked at her in shock. “What’s he talking about? Whose name did you say?” Ginny threw her arms up in the air, and she exploded. “Oh, don’t flatter yourself, Potter!” She stormed up the stairs and didn’t come down the rest of the night. The next day, when Ginny slaughtered him in duelling practice with Dumbledore, Harry knew she was still upset about her fight with Dean. They’d sat apart at breakfast and lunch and although Harry had sat with her, she’d pretended like nothing was wrong. However, the anger and power with which she duelled that afternoon was a dead giveaway. When it was over, she stomped out of the room before Harry could ask her what was bothering her. He turned to Dumbledore apologetically. “I think she’s had a bad week.” “Really?” Dumbledore lifted his eyebrows questioningly. “Er…she and Dean had a fight,” Harry said, not sure if he should be telling his professor this. “I don’t know what it was about though.” Dumbledore nodded and walked over to Harry, conjuring a hand towel along the way. He handed it to Harry who took it gratefully and wiped the sweat off the back of his neck and face. “Harry,” Dumbledore said abruptly. “I’m about to give you some advice. Normally I would never presume to interfere in anyone’s life in this way, but you and Ginny both seem to be so blinded as to the truth that I cannot in all good conscience keep silent any longer.” He stood in front of Harry and laid a fatherly hand on his shoulder. “Please heed what I am about to say: Right or wrong, scary or not, difficult or easy, relationships like the one you share with Ginny only come along once in a lifetime…and sometimes not even then. If you don’t act soon and do something about those feelings you are struggling with then you will regret it the rest of your life.” Harry was taken aback. “What are you talking about, Professor?” “I’m saying if there is anything in this life that is worth taking a risk for – it’s love. Take the leap, Harry. It’s time.” He patted Harry on the shoulder and walked out of the room leaving Harry to stare in shock after him. ******* Harry barely had time to contemplate Dumbledore’s advice; although it did not escape his notice that both Ron and Dumbledore had now alluded to something neither one of them was willing to just come out and say. It was vexing, to say the least, and Harry shoved it aside to deal with at a later date. Final exams were fast approaching and Hermione had made out very strict revising schedules for herself, Ron and Harry. After six years of Hermione’s tutelage, Harry knew better than to deny that the schedules helped. It occurred to Harry that it was nearly May and they hadn’t heard out of Voldemort all year. Dumbledore thought it was because he and Ginny had damaged him so badly when they forcefully ended his possession of their bodies. But that had happened nearly a year ago; surely he was recovered by now? He found himself growing more apprehensive as the end of the school year approached. He hated the feeling of waiting for Voldemort, but he’d learned not to underestimate the dark wizard; he always had a plan. Ginny and Dean continued their mutual cold shoulders until one evening a fiercely whispered conversation in the corner of the common room both broke the silence and brought things to a head. Dean had apparently had enough and after ignoring Ginny for an hour while revising for his exams, he threw his textbook down in disgust and marched over to where Ginny was sitting and sat down. Ron, who had stiffened when Dean sat down next to Ginny, hissed, “He’d better not be yelling at her again.” “What happened anyway?” Harry asked. Ron looked at him strangely. “You mean you don’t know? Ginny didn’t tell you?” “No, Ron, she didn’t,” Harry said impatiently. “What happened between them?” Hermione looked worried. “I’m not sure we should-“ “She said your name in her sleep,” Ron interrupted abruptly. Hermione shot him a dirty look, but he continued. “She was taking a kip on the couch down here and started mumbling your name.” Harry was astonished, but he didn’t know if it was because Ginny had said his name or because Ron knew something about Ginny that he didn’t. “She told you that?” “No, of course not,” Ron waved a hand. “She told Hermione.” “And I told you in the strictest confidence,” Hermione whispered angrily. “You weren’t supposed to tell!” “I DREAM ABOUT DEATH, OKAY!” Ginny had launched herself off the couch and was shouting at Dean. “Is that what you want to hear!?!? They aren’t dreams, Dean; they’re bloody nightmares! And Harry dies in nearly every one of them! That’s why I said his name! It wasn’t romantic! I was begging Voldemort not to kill him!” Dean stared up at her in shock. Harry, Ron and Hermione watched as realization followed quickly by regret came over his face, and he stammered to apologize. “Ginny…I-I’m so…please-“ Ginny drew herself up and looked down at him haughtily. “We’re through. I won’t be with anyone who doesn’t trust me.” She turned on her heel and walked stately up the stairs. “Ginny!” Dean’s cry was desperate. She didn’t turn around and he fell back against the cushions in frustration. Harry, along with the rest of the Gryffindor Tower, watched her go and wondered if Dean knew exactly what was walking away from him. |
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