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Guilt and Innocence
By Cassie Payne

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Category: Post-HBP
Characters:Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Neville Longbottom, Ron Weasley, Severus Snape
Genres: Fluff, Drama
Warnings: Sexual Situations
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 49
Summary: Harry and Ginny spend a happy hour by the lake and Harry deals with his feelings of guilt over their deepening physical relationship. (The "R" rating is just being very cautious!)
Hitcount: Story Total: 9110







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Guilt and Innocence

Mid HBP. Contains spoilers.


All characters, settings, trademarks, etc are the property of J.K. Rowling. After carefully checking my bank account, I am, apparently, not her.


Harry Potter was staring out the window of the Gryffindor common room. He should have been using his free time more productively, but quite often these days he could be spotted waiting morosely for a certain redhead to finish her OWL testing for the day; waiting impatiently, and wishing wholeheartedly for just a few minutes alone with her. Today, however, Harry had expanded his thoughts to worrying about her. Ginny was showing signs of fatigue, and he wanted to do something special for her. A sort of celebration. For two.

He grinned as he remembered the last time they had been alone, just the previous evening. Ginny had asked him to quiz her for the Transfiguration OWL. They had ended up falling asleep together on a comfy couch in front of the common room fire. Harry had awoken in the middle of the night with something warm and heavy covering the lower two thirds of his body, and a discarded book jammed unpleasantly between his face and the back of the couch. He shifted to remove the book and heard her murmur sleepily, “Harry.”

Instantly awake, but unwilling to disturb her, he leaned to his left and pulled himself into a lopsided sitting position ending up with Ginny’s head in his lap, her face pressed against his…

No. That would not do. He shifted hastily, but she reached out to smooth her restless pillow, leaving him in a state of near panic, and something a bit more intriguing. If Ron happened to come down the steps and see them…

Harry made a last desperate attempt and slid slowly down the couch until he was almost on the floor. As her head fell from his lap and hit the couch, she awoke with a start.

“Harry, what on earth are you doing on the floor?”

“I... Erm… I didn’t want to wake you.”

Ginny yawned. “What time is it?” Her hair was mussed and her eyes not quite focused.

“Time for bed. I mean my bed and your bed. Separate beds,” he finished anxiously.

Ginny sighed. “Always the gentleman.”

“I… Er…”

“Pity.” Ginny stretched catlike then sat up, retrieving her book in the process. She laughed at the mingled look of curiosity and fear on his face. He stood up and she followed, reaching up to straighten his glasses. He smiled and smoothed her mane of red hair.

“I expect we’re presentable now,” he said quietly. Ginny turned away from him and led the way to the girl’s dormitories. At the doorway, she turned and lifted her face demanding, “Kiss,” before she stumbled sleepily up the stairs.

Harry had watched her go, wishing he could have followed, knowing that he wouldn’t have if he could.

Unable to fall back to sleep, he’d spent the better part of the early morning hours prowling the common room waiting for her to return, only to have to say good bye after breakfast as she went to take her Transfiguration exam. This left him currently wishing he could grab a nap, but knowing he’d rather go without sleep than miss one minute of Ginny’s free time.

But, how to get her alone? She’d be hungry (the girl had an appetite to rival a hippogriff) and wanting to head straight to lunch in the Great Hall where hundreds of students and dozens of teachers would be watching them. Then Hermione would suggest an afternoon study session that would force the two of them to spend their precious time with the bickering duo. Even though Ron and Hermione were his best friends, he’d much rather be alone with Ginny than referee another verbal match.

Ron, who was sitting nearby and watching Harry intently as he stared out the window, growled suddenly. “I’d really rather you not think about my sister that way.”

Harry jumped guiltily. “What way?”

“Dunno — took a stab — you had that look on your face again.”

“The one that makes you want to perform the Langlock curse on me.”

“And don’t think I won’t!”

“C’mon, cut me a break,” Harry complained.

“It would serve you right if I glued your tongue to the roof of your mouth.”

“Probably,” Harry retorted. They exchanged grins (Ron’s looked a little half hearted) and fell back to a comfortable silence.

Finally Harry decided the best way to have some private time with Ginny was to pack a picnic lunch and head to their favorite spot on the far side of the lake. He headed down to the kitchens, where Dobby immediately greeted him with an enthusiastic “Harry Potter! What can Dobby do for Harry Potter today?”

“Er, a picnic lunch for two.”

Kreacher, who had shuffled over reluctantly wheezed, “Master, would like a lunch packed. Oh, I have some fine food for Master and his blood traitor friends.”

“Dobby will pack the lunch for Harry Potter! Dobby knows what Harry Potter and his Wheazy like to eat. His Wheazy will eat anything!”

“Er, Dobby, I’m not going with Ron. I’m taking a girl. Can you make it sort of, er… nice?”

Dobby’s orb like eyes grew even larger. “Harry Potter is taking a girl for a picnic lunch?”

“Yeah, Ginny, you know her, I think…”

“Harry Potter was kissing a girl by the lake! She is a Wheazy too?”

“Yeah, she’s a Weasley...”

“Harry Potter has two Wheazy’s?”

“Yeah, I mean no. I don’t have any Weasley’s. I mean… Dobby, just the lunch and no questions, please.”

“Yes, sir, Harry Potter, sir!” The elf disappeared, returning a few moments later with a heavily laden basket, Kreacher shuffling behind him.

“Master has a special surprise in the picnic basket…”

“Dobby has tried to remove it, but Kreacher is Harry Potter’s servant and Dobby can not undo...”

“That’s all right, Dobby.” Harry lifted the basket from the elf with a groan. “Thank you.”

“Dobby is happy to do Harry Potter’s bidding! Harry Potter is a great wizard…”

“Dobby,” Harry interrupted firmly, “In the future when I say ‘Thank you’, I want you to say, ‘You’re welcome’.”

Dobby’s eyes swam with tears, “Dobby is being treated like an equal. Harry Potter is good, and kind, and generous…”

Harry cleared his throat. “Thank you,” he said loudly.

Dobby trembled on the spot, his large bat like ears quivering with excitement as he said carefully, “You’re welcome.”

Harry left the kitchen, the sound of Dobby’s happy tears receding as the door closed behind him. He heaved the basket over to the steps, wondering how Dobby had managed to lift it at all. He was eyeing the steps unhappily when a cold voice said from behind him, “If one was a wizard, one would think one would use magic.”

If there was anything Harry hated more than Professor Snape, it was Professor Snape being right. But the basket was heavy, so Harry muttered “Levicorpus” . The lid gave a feeble wiggle as something in the basket tried to rise, but the collective weight remained right where it was.

“It looks like the items in your picnic basket were never corporeal to begin with,” Snape said scornfully. Harry swore under his breath. “It’s a pity you don’t have detention. A certain young lady,” and he paused deliberately, “might think you had stood her up.”

Harry had had plenty of practice dealing with bullies. The years in Uncle Vernon’s household had taught him to hold his tongue when he wanted something desperately, and he certainly didn’t want detention this afternoon, so he simply stared at the basket, trying not to think that Snape must surely be jealous of Harry’s newfound intimacy. After all, there was no Mrs. Snape, was there?

Snape muttered icily, “Correct for once. The odds dictate that will happen occasionally.” Then he swept away with a sneer.

Still no closer to moving the basket up the stairs, nonetheless outside, Harry sat down dejectedly on the bottom step and racked his brain for a levitating spell. Suddenly, he remembered one of Ron and Hermione’s first fights, and jumped to his feet. “Wingardium Leviosa!” he roared triumphantly, and the basket rose obediently into the air.

He followed the basket up the stairs, grinning happily, thinking only of Ginny, when he heard a small “Oh!” before the basket crashed to the ground. Harry double stepped the last of the stairs and turned on the landing to see Cho Chang lying on the ground, the picnic basket on top of her.

“Merlin, Cho, I’m sorry!” Harry lifted the over loaded basket with a grunt, and Cho sat up shakily. “Are you OK? Here let me help you.” Harry wrapped an arm around her and heaved her up as well.

“I’m fine. I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“No. I should have been paying attention to the basket. I’m really sorry.”

“Forget about it.” Cho was smiling at him, and he realized this was the first conversation they’d had the entire school year. It was funny because he used to spend most of his waking hours wondering where she was and what she was doing. He found he had missed her company, and was curious what she’d been up to.

“So, NEWTS done yet?”

“Just about. I have one in Defense Against the Dark Arts tomorrow.”

“You’ll do great. I’m sure of it.”

“So, how have you been, Harry?”

“Good. Real good.”

“Going on a picnic this afternoon?”

“Yeah, I thought I’d surprise Ginny,” he stopped short, not sure if he should continue the sentence.

“It’s OK, Harry. I like Ginny. She’s really sweet. You two make a good couple. Way better than you and me.”

“Yeah, that was kind of a disaster, wasn’t it?”

Cho laughed prettily, and Harry was surprised that his stomach did not swoop at the sound.

“So, are you seeing anyone?”

“Oh, a few, here and there. Nobody serious.” She turned somber then admitted softly, “There just isn’t anyone who can compare. I thought maybe you could make me forget. He was very special.”

Harry, who was relieved to see she wasn’t crying, nodded sympathetically.

“But, I’m leaving Hogwarts soon, and hopefully the memories will stay here so I can move on.” She peered at Harry thoughtfully then announced, “Ginny’s very lucky.”

“Nah, I’m the lucky one. Ron reminds me every morning.”

They were interrupted by a voice squealing from the top of the stairs. “Harry! Harry!” and a tiny redhead launched herself into his arms.

He swung her around then set her on her feet. “How’d Transfiguration go?”

“Pretty good. My turtle had china patterns on its belly, but Colin’s kept breaking every time he picked it up.”

“Mine had a tail that looked like a tea cup handle,” Harry remembered out loud, but he wasn’t really thinking about his turtle. He stared happily at the girl in his arms, quite forgetting the one who had slunk gracefully away into the Great Hall. “So, this afternoon…”

“All free. I’m at your disposal.” Ginny tilted her head and looked at him brazenly while she fiddled with the long end of his neck tie.

“I was thinking we could go on a picnic.”

“But we need food!”

Harry gestured to the basket, and Ginny turned pink as the other fifth year girls that had followed her down the steps chorused “Awe,” and “How sweet!”

Luna separated herself from the crowd and wandered over to them. “Ginny. Harry,” she said simply.

Harry kept one arm slung across Ginny’s shoulders as she turned to address Luna. “How’d your turtle come out?”

“Blue, but I’m sure the teacup was made by the Goblin Conspiracy.”

“The what?” Harry choked.

“The Goblins Against Mandatory Testing. They plant defective teacups at testing sites.”

Harry clapped his hand over Ginny’s mouth to smother her giggle. “That’s quite interesting.”

“Yes, well, my father says the testing is just a way for the Ministry to keep tabs on us.”

Harry’s brow furrowed in thought. “Your father may be onto something there.”

“Speaking of onto something, I’m really glad you two are dating. I wish I had a handsome and brave boyfriend.”

He could feel a blush creeping up his neck. “Er…”

Ginny pulled Harry’s hand away from her mouth. “Sorry, Luna, this one is all mine. But you can borrow him for Christmas parties if you like.”

“No. I quite think he’d rather go with you next year.”

As usual, Luna had hit on the blatant truth, and Harry and Ginny exchanged happy smiles thinking about next Christmas, presents, and mistletoe.

“Well, don’t let me keep you from your picnic.” Luna turned to go into the Great Hall. “Remember to watch out for Lofginels!”

“Do I wanna know what Lofginels are?” Harry asked idly.

“Probably not.” Ginny beamed at him fondly. “Thank you for being friendly with Luna. People usually aren’t nice to her.”

Harry levitated the basket with a swish of his wand. “I like Luna. She makes me laugh.”

“I thought I was the only one who could make you laugh.”

“No, you’re the only one who can make me…” But he couldn’t finish because the blush was creeping up his neck again.

Ginny made googly eyes at him, causing the blush to find its way to his hairline, and they headed out the front doors, Harry grateful for the diversion.

The sun was high in the sky and warmed the grounds of Hogwarts with an almost unmerciful heat. They removed their school robes as they walked to the lake, and Harry undid his already loosened neck tie. They settled into their favorite spot soon after, Harry conjuring a blanket and Ginny conjuring some cushions before they turned their attention to the picnic basket. Dobby had, as expected, packed a marvelous feast, but Harry was determined to check the food carefully before he’d let Ginny eat anything, worried that Kreacher had indeed packed something foul. He finally found a loaf of moldy old bread.

“Aha!”

“Now what?”

“I found it. I knew Kreacher had packed something disgusting.” Harry eyed it contemptuously before tossing it into the lake for the giant squid.

“So does that mean I can eat now?” Ginny asked petulantly.

Harry leaned over the basket and kissed her. “After you, m’lady.” He had taken to calling her that after he’d noticed her habit of watching the castle portraits of the fair maidens in need of rescue, and the dashing young men ready to rescue them. He found he liked teasing her almost as much as he liked kissing her, and he did both as frequently as he could. No stranger to this type of abuse, Ginny poured out her own dry humor on him as often as she could, finally dubbing him “The Boy Who Chose To Live Under the Bat Bogey Hex”, or Bogey for short.

“You know, my Aunt Petunia used to like an American muggle actor whose name was Bogey.”

“That’s mad.”

“Yeah, I don’t know if that’s just Americans or muggles in general.”

“Was it a nickname or did his mother actually name him “Bogey”?”

“Dunno,” Harry said as he pulled out a bottle of butter beer.

Ginny dove into the basket, forgetting the crazy American muggle, and came up with a drumstick and an apple. “Heaven,” she murmured around a mouthful of chicken.

Harry grunted in agreement then dribbled some butter beer down his chin and onto his shirt. Ginny sighed, set down her lunch, and reached over to wipe his face clean. Harry grinned. “You know I do this on purpose so you will take care of me.”

She swatted him playfully. “I wouldn’t doubt it.”

“Hey, I have a question. How did you know about the Hungarian Horntail?”

“How did I know about the what?”

“The Horntail. My tattoo.”

“You really have a Hungarian Horntail tattoo?”

“Uh huh.”

“Where?”

“On my chest. You were the one who told Romilda Vane about it.”

“You do not!”

“I do too!”

Ginny jumped over the basket and tackled Harry. “Let me see it,” she demanded, sitting on top of him and pulling at his shirt buttons. Intent on her mission, she failed to notice that Harry had gone quite still beneath her. “See? Nothing!” she declared triumphantly as she thrust the edges of his shirt aside.

Harry sat up halfway and muttered, “That’s not what a guy wants to hear after a girl rips his shirt off.”

Ginny, who was straddling him in a most unladylike way, made a soft “Oh,” with her mouth. Harry took advantage and claimed her mouth with his own, all thought of teasing long gone. He rolled her onto her back and kissed her thoroughly, a frustrated hand skimming up her belly and stopping short. He pulled back reluctantly and managed to whisper hoarsely, “You mean everything to me, Gin. Everything.” Then he wrenched himself away and sat with his head in his hands.

“Harry?”

“I need a minute.”

She knelt beside him, a hand hovering uncertainly over his head, before dropping to smooth the jet black hair. She stroked his head, then bent to kiss the rumpled locks. His resolve crumbled and he wrapped her up in his arms, one hand skimming her back, the fingers of the other hand twisting into her hair. He kept his face buried resolutely in her shoulder while she crooned shushing noises at him. “It’s OK. Whatever it is, it’s OK.”

“No, it’s not. When I touch you I want… I feel… I’m not sure I’ll be able to stop,” he admitted with a note of desperation in his voice.

“Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”

He pulled back in alarm. “You… you…” He cast his eyes to the ground and swallowed thickly. “You want me to touch you?”

“Harry, look at me.” When he didn’t comply, she simply placed both hands under his chin and raised his unwilling face. His green eyes were deeply troubled. “I…” she started, then stopped. She tried again. “I’m not sure what I want. But I know when I ask you to stop, you will.” She leaned in and kissed him softly.

He groaned and pushed her back to the blanket, covering her again with his body. “I promise I will never hurt you,” he managed to choke after another long kiss.

She smiled softly and pulled his hand up her body. He raised his eyes to hers in surprise. Her eyes were blazing again, and, heart thumping, Harry lowered his hand to the tiny button at the top of her blouse. His fingers felt thick and clumsy, but he managed to undo it. He checked her eyes again. She was smiling still, her breath soft and shallow. One of her hands had slid down his neck and was lightly brushing its way across his chest. He resumed his task, working slowly down to her belly, exposing freckled skin and a bit of white lace. When he was finished, he looked to her again, not sure how much more was allowed. “Now what?”

She shook her head and asked softly, “How would I know?”

“You mean you haven’t either?”

“No. It never felt right before.”

“Does it feel right now?”

“It feels perfect,” she whispered as she raised her hand and stroked back his hair.

Harry’s heart had beaten its way into his throat. Unable to reply, and desperately trying to control the trembling in his hands, he gently pushed one edge of the blouse aside exposing more white lace and a soft mound of skin. Mesmerized, he watched one of his fingers trace a pattern from one enticing freckle to the next.

“Ginny? Harry! Where are you?”

Ginny jumped, muttered an expletive, and pushed an equally startled Harry off of her. He repeated her choice of word for good measure while they hurriedly buttoned themselves back up.

“Hold still.” Harry commanded as he picked a leaf out of her hair.

“Wait!” she implored reaching up to straighten his glasses.

They quickly righted the basket that Harry had unknowingly kicked over earlier, and Ginny set about a drying spell on the spilled butter beer she had knocked out of Harry’s hand when she tackled him. Finally, breathless, but no longer disheveled, Harry answered Ron’s query. “We’re over here!”

“Your hair!” Ginny moaned desperately.

“Meh, it always looks like this.” Harry said with a complete lack of concern and leaned over to give her a quick kiss. “Remember where we left off,” he whispered.

Ginny was still smiling when Ron and Hermione rounded the large tree. “There you two are. We’ve been looking everywhere. We thought you’d missed lunch.”

“Harry packed us a picnic lunch. So we could be alone,” she told her brother firmly.

“Excellent!” Ron declared helping himself to some chicken.

Hermione smiled patiently and settled down next to Ron. “Honestly, don’t you ever quit eating?”

“Iwuzn eet nile wewok dere.”

Ginny and Hermione exchanged glances that clearly said “Boys!”

Harry, who hadn’t taken time to eat yet that afternoon, joined Ron in emptying the basket. “And he doesn’t eat while he sleeps,” he added in defense of his friend before taking a large bite of sandwich.

Ron motioned with the chicken leg. “Mphfulibome.”

“Onatulona,” Harry replied, and they high fived each other as if they had completely understood the exchange.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “The reason we’ve been looking for you is that Fred and George are here for a visit.”

“Oh, yeah. Ginny, they want to talk to you about something.”

“Ron, did you tell them about me and Harry?”

“Might’ve. Dunno.”

Harry was suddenly no longer hungry. He knew he’d have to face the Weasley brothers eventually, but he’d rather not so soon after he had almost…

Ginny waved her wand and the food repacked itself. She and Harry made the cushions and blankets disappear, then they grabbed their discarded school robes and began the trek back to the school, leaving Ron and Hermione alone on the secluded lake shore.

Fred and George were waiting on the front steps with thunderous expressions on their faces. Harry tried to hang back, after all this was family business, but Ginny grabbed his hand and drug him with her to meet the twins. “What is the meaning of this?” she demanded.

“Oh, hello Harry!” George exclaimed.

“Would you excuse us?” Fred chimed in.

“We need to speak to our sister,”

“In private.”

Ginny tugged Harry, who was attempting to escape, back to her side. “He’ll stay right where he is.”

“He probably already knows.”

“He’s as bad as Ron.”

“Not keeping us informed.”

“She is our sister!”

“Er,” Harry stammered nervously.

“So, who is it?” George demanded of Ginny.

“Who is what?” she parried defiantly.

“Your new boyfriend.”

“Ron told us you were shot of Dan.”

“His name was Dean, and just because I’m shot of him doesn’t mean I have a new boyfriend already.”

“Harry, you have to know.”

“Tell us, or we’ll jinx you.”

“Er,” Harry managed, now seriously alarmed.

“Harry, why do you have a red hair on your robe?” Fred asked curiously.

“Er,” Harry looked down at the robe in his hand, which, indeed, had one long red hair in the folds contrasting brightly with the dark color.

“No…” George gasped.

“Yes!” Fred cried.

“But this is excellent! Mum will have kittens!”

“And she will leave us alone.”

“Bill won’t be too happy.”

“But it’s Harry. He’ll come around.”

And they paused to beam at Harry.

“You’re not going to kill me?” Harry asked hesitantly.

“Oh, we will kill you,”

“If you ever hurt her,”

“Make no mistake,”

“Her Bat Bogey Hex will seem mild.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief, and started to wrap his arm around Ginny’s shoulder, but stopped short when he saw that the expressions on the twins’ faces contrasted mightily with their earlier words.. “I’ll just l-leave you three…” he stammered, but Ginny firmly grabbed his arm, pulled it around her waist, captured his face between her hands, and tugged him down for a kiss.

“There,” she said firmly.

Fred and George were staring uncomfortably at their feet.

Harry pulled away guiltily. Ginny allowed the separation this time. “Fred?” she queried, “George? It’s OK. You can look now.”

“Bloody hell,” Fred said weakly.

George said nothing, he just looked from Harry to Ginny, and back to Harry again.

“Bloody hell,” Fred repeated.

Ginny turned to Harry with a playful glint in her eyes. “They’re speechless. I don’t think this has ever happened before. I wonder if we could render them permanently mute?”

“Gin, no, they outnumber me.”

“Chicken,” she snorted derisively.

George waved a hand feebly and muttered, “Ron.”

Fred followed suit and managed, “Hermione.”

Harry turned to see what he should have heard; Ron and Hermione crossing the front lawn, arguing loudly.

“Honestly, Ron, they were only kissing.”

“Does he have to kiss her in broad daylight on the front steps?”

“Well, if you’d stop looking for their hiding spots and leave them alone...”

“ALONE?” Ron bellowed. “You want me to leave her ALONE with him?”

Harry jammed his hands into his jeans pockets and watched their approach with a grin. “Now there are two people I’d like to render mute.”

“Oh, not permanently. Who’d do your homework for you?”

Stung, Harry retorted, “I do my own homework. Mostly.”

Yet another intrusion exploded from the oak front doors.

“If you d-don’t give me back m-my toad…”

“You’ll do what, Longbottom? Stutter at me?”

Harry heard Crabbe and Goyle’s deep laughter. With a sigh, he trudged up the steps, leaving the befuddled Fred and George to come to terms with his betrayal, and to see what Malfoy was up to now. “Neville, what’s up?”

“Malfoy took Trevor.”

Malfoy turned his hands up innocently, “I swear I don’t have a toad on me.”

“Then where did you put it?” came a familiar voice from above and behind Harry. In spite of Neville’s dilemma, Harry smiled. Ron still had his back.

“Why? Does your mother need it to make dinner?”

“Ron, don’t,” Hermione scolded quietly.

Ginny joined the fray. “You do not want me to hex you, Malfoy.”

Luna emerged from the Great Hall and asked vaguely, “Oh, are we having a DA meeting?”

“Potter is this the best help you can drum up? Weasley, Longbottom, and a bunch of girls?”

“Yes, Malfoy, this is the best help I could ever ask for.”

They glared at each other for several tense moments before Malfoy said, “C’mon Crabbe. Goyle. There’s a stench coming from this group of Mudbloods and blood traitors.”

Harry watched them retreat with his heart full of hate. He would take Malfoy out some day.

“Harry?” It was Ginny’s voice.

“Yeah?”

Ron answered for his sister. “Mate, we’re going to hunt down Trevor. You coming?”

He shook his head to free himself of the hatred. “Sure.”

The six students headed for the marble staircase, the girls leading the way.

“Where do you think we should start?” Neville asked eagerly.

Harry sent a sly look in Ron’s direction. “Ginny and I can search all the broom closets.

“What!”

“All right, you and Hermione can search the broom closets then.”

“Why would… What does… What is wrong with you Potter?”

“Nothing,” but his eyes were wandering over the source of his problem.

“I’m warning you…”

“All right, all right, I promise to behave the rest of the afternoon.”

“I don’t,” Ginny piped up and cast a wicked glance over her shoulder at Harry.

Ron stomped up the stairs, the tips of his ears burning. Hermione sent Ginny a dirty look and followed him. Ginny spared another glance at Harry, this one helpless, and she followed her brother. “I’m sorry, Ron. And stop being a prat to Harry. He’s really been quite a gentleman. It was my idea to kiss him on the front steps. He was pulling away the whole time.”

“What, my sister not good enough for you, Potter?”

“No, Weasley , apparently I’m not good enough for her!”

Ron sank to the steps and buried his head in his hands. Hermione followed him, her hand rubbing his shoulder, her bushy hair creating a curtain that blocked the others from view. “What am I doing?” Ron moaned quietly. “I wanted this for her. For both of them.”

“You have to let her grow up, Ron. And who could you ever trust more than Harry?”

Ron raised his bleary eyes. “You’re right, Hermione. You are always right.” He stood up and offered a hand to Hermione, who accepted it without quite meeting his eyes.

Harry, Ginny, Neville and Luna had retreated to the top of the marble staircase. Ron approached them with a resigned sigh as he apologized to the floor. “I’m back. I’m sorry. I promise not to blow up again.”

Harry raised his and Ginny’s clasped hands and said simply, “We’re sorry. We promise. Just this.”

Ginny nodded solemnly. “Are we OK?”

“Yeah, we’re OK. I don’t think Fred and George are though.” They looked out the castle window down to the front steps to see Fred and George, who were gesturing wildly.

“Planning my slow and painful death, no doubt,” Harry said with a grimace.

“I wouldn’t eat any wrapped candies you find laying around,” Ron advised.

“Six older brothers. Six!” Harry exclaimed in frustration. “I’m a dead man.”

“Oh, look!” Luna interrupted. “Did someone loose a frog?”

“Trevor!” Neville exclaimed. The frog leapt gratefully into Neville’s hands and Harry could see suspicious scratches on Trevor’s legs. They exchanged nervous glances, each wondering about the depths Malfoy and his cronies would sink to. “Hagrid will know what to do,” Neville said firmly, and turned to head back down the staircase.

Harry watched Neville go, glad to have at least one problem resolved. Luna made an excuse to go study, leaving Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Harry alone again.

“We do need to study,” Hermione said predictably. The others agreed, and they headed for Gryffindor tower. After just a few steps, however, Harry tugged at Ginny’s hand, indicating they should fall back.

“Harry, no!” Ginny hissed. “We promised Ron we’d behave.”

“Yeah, but…” he pointed to her brother with his free hand, and she swallowed a giggle.

Ron was still holding Hermione’s hand.


Author's note. Thank you for taking time to read my story. I hope you enjoyed it. If you haven't yet, please check out my version of what happens after Harry and Ginny climb through the portrait hole that first night. It's called The Seekers. Thanks again!



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