This was the strangest summer of Ginevra Weasley’s life.

Actually, it had been a strange year. She expected to be lonely when Ron went off to Hogwarts and left her alone at The Burrow. Instead, she’d made a new friend. She hadn’t quite known what to make of the strange boy that walked up to her Mum, asking how to get onto platform nine and three quarters. Mum was busy watching Ron go through the barrier and hadn’t heard him, so she volunteered. The poor thing looked so lost and lonely.

He was also embarrassingly shy. His face went bright red as he agreed to follow her, which was kind of funny. It wasn’t like she was special or anything, but he was so polite it made her feel like she was. When she took his hand to lead him through the barrier, she felt him shaking a little. She didn’t see his family and wondered why they weren’t there to see him off.

She felt even worse when he asked her if she was coming to Hogwarts. Since she had to wait another year, he’d be sure to forget her by then. When he asked if he could write to her she felt incredibly flattered, even as she was saddened as her suspicions about his family were confirmed. He seemed almost sad that he had to get on the train.

She was still thinking about this when Fred and George ran back to Mum to announce that they’d just been pranked by none other than Harry Potter. She couldn’t believe that sad little boy was the hero she’d heard so many stories about. Why was he so lonely? Didn’t the people he lived with know who he was?

She edged a little closer to the compartment he’d entered while her Mum said goodbye to Percy and the twins. She could have sunk through the platform when she heard Ron start badgering Harry about talking to her. Her brother had gotten a little odd once he realized that he’d be starting at Hogwarts without her. On the other hand, she thought her face would catch fire when she heard Harry sticking up for her. When he called her pretty she thought her heart would stop.

Ginny had six older brothers, but she still understood the concept of ‘pretty’, and she wasn’t it. Not with her bright red hair, nonexistent figure, and bad temper.

Still he was smiling when he stuck his head out the window a minute later and she hastily looked away. Of course the twins immediately started teasing her about sending her a toilet seat of all things, and having Harry sign it. He must have really impressed them somehow, for them to even think about letting him in on one of their pranks.

Still, she couldn’t resist running after the train a few steps to wave goodbye. She wouldn’t see them for months! She was surprised when Harry waved - he had no family there, so it must have been her he was waving at. She barely remembered to wave back before the train moved out of sight.

It wasn’t until she got home that it really struck her. She was all alone.

Her Mum and Dad were there of course. But she’d gotten awfully used to having her brothers around. Ron alone was enough to keep The Burrow from being too quiet. With him gone she was left sitting in her room crying quietly. She tried to distract herself thinking about the boy she’d met today. It was hard to think of him as The Boy Who Lived. Her eyes didn’t latch onto his scar — it was his eyes that had captured her attention. They were a brilliant green, but something else… He looked so lost, which made sense she supposed, with his parents gone. No one was there to show him through the barrier. Thinking about that look in his eyes made her chest ache and she cried harder.

He’d seemed… happy somehow, to see her, which was quite odd. Of course, heading off to Hogwarts, he was sure to forget her. Though he did say she was pretty.

She muffled her sobs, mortified, when her Mum knocked on her door.

Fall got off to a very slow start. Ginny couldn’t help but mope a bit. Mum seemed determined to cheer her up, whether she wanted to be or not. Her first attempt at knitting had been a disaster, and she was quite relieved when it burst into flames. She tried to distract herself writing truly horrid poetry, but she was so embarrassed by the results that they were promptly banished to her sock drawer.

That all changed when she saw Hedwig.

Harry’s owl was a gorgeous creature, covered with soft, dazzling white feathers. Mum had been less than impressed when she couldn’t get the letter from the owl’s leg. However, the owl was docile enough when Ginny reached forward and untied the parchment.

Harry had written her a letter.

More than a letter, it was practically a diary of his first week at Hogwarts. She’d never had someone write to her like that before. Bill had sent her a couple of post cards from Cairo, and Charlie had sent her a couple of letters from Romania. But Harry had to have spent hours and hours writing this one, covering pages and pages of parchment. She didn’t understand why he’d gone to so much effort, but it gave her a warm glow. He really did want her to know everything that was going on at Hogwarts. Her brothers always promised to write, and they did… but they weren’t really letter writers. Judged solely on volume, Harry had sent her more in one go than Percy and the twins did in all of last year. She didn’t understand why he went to so much effort, unless he was terribly lonely.

Just like her, she supposed.

When she finished the marathon letter, she noticed Mum looking at her rather oddly. When she explained why Harry was writing to her, Mum just got very teary-eyed and hugged her tightly.

Mum was always after her about learning cooking and cleaning charms, which was sort of annoying since she didn’t seem to expect Ron or the twins to learn them. Harry’s letters gave her a chance to force the constant lessons into some type of structure, like when Mum taught her to read and write. The questions he asked seemed to break things down logically.

Mum also didn’t seem to be as eager to find things for her to do when she was occupied with writing a letter back to Harry. That was an extra benefit.

Ginny really enjoyed Harry’s letters, so she didn’t want him to feel short-changed when she wrote him back. The problem was that there wasn’t as much going on at home as there seemed to be at Hogwarts. She worried that if she responded back with a short letter, he might not include as many details in his next message.

So she told him more about herself and her family. She told him family stories that dated back to when her parents were young. Ginny learned at a tender age that she’d hear a lot more if she kept quiet when other people talked… and she had a very good memory.

She wrote about the twins’ first prank war with Bill and Charlie.

She wrote about their first year at Hogwarts and all the howlers Mum had sent them.

She wrote about the first time Bill came home with a pony-tail, and the fuss Mum made over it.

She wrote about the first time Charlie came home with a huge burn bandage on his arm and the even bigger fuss Mum made over that.

She wrote about her Dad’s fascination with Muggle technology, and how it sometimes drove Mum spare.

But she also wrote about how her Mum stayed up nights watching the family clock when Dad was working late.

Harry’s next letter to her was even longer. It was sort of funny how Mum started asking her how everyone was doing at Hogwarts. Ron did finally write her, but his letters were always rather short and to the point.

Halloween had been utterly horrible. She overheard the Professor telling Mum about the Troll, and that Ron was all right. But she didn’t know if Harry was hurt. She ran down the stairs but Mum had already locked the kitchen door. She pounded on the wood, even after she heard the fireplace roar from Floo powder. The waiting was one of the worst things she could ever remember. Her mind conjured up all kinds of gruesome things that could have happened to her friend. When Mum finally opened the door she’d been nearly hysterical.

It was a relief to know that Harry wasn’t badly hurt, though her stomach twisted as she wondered what ‘hurt arm’ really meant. Moreover, she was glad Harry and Ron’s other friends weren’t injured. She had a feeling from his letters that Harry would rather get hurt himself, than feel guilty about someone else’s wounds.

Harry didn’t know she already knew about the Troll, but she still felt special when he told her all about it, and asked her not to say anything to Mum until Ron had a chance to talk to her. It felt -- nice --to know he trusted her with secrets. It struck her that Harry had never treated her like a baby -- ever. Harry’s trust in her was really driven home when she was put in the odd position of reassuring Mum and Dad about Ron’s grades. He’d told her more about how they were all doing than Ron was willing to admit to his own parents.

When Mum and Dad told her they would get to go to Romania for Christmas she was excited about seeing Charlie. At the same time, she felt a little sorry for Harry with no family. With the timing of the conference and the end of fall term, Ron would have to stay at Hogwarts as well. She expected him to be upset at being excluded from the trip, but he wrote back that he was happy staying with Harry.

She sent Ron an especially big box of chocolate frogs for Christmas.

When Mum talked to her about giving knitting another go, and how home-made gifts mean more, she impulsively decided to make something for Harry. She didn’t imagine anyone had ever made anything for him before, so that would make it even more special.

Unfortunately, her knitting needles refused to cooperate. In the end, she did produce what could laughably be called a scarf. As long as one didn’t look too closely. Unfortunately, by the time she realized that, it was too late to try something else, and she didn’t have any present money left. Mum tried to reassure her it looked fine, but she knew she was just trying to make her feel better.

Romania was fun, but very, very cold. Unfortunately, she also had plenty of time to worry about Harry’s reaction. She knew he wouldn’t say anything mean about her pitiful gift, and that made it even worse. She’d confided in Harry that she wanted to play Quidditch when she came to Hogwarts, and even admitted to ‘borrowing’ her brothers’ brooms, something no one else knew. When he sent her that wonderful book on Quidditch she felt even worse about that stupid scarf. While Hedwig was thawing out near the fire, she gave in to her guilt and wrote a quick note to him apologizing for her awful gift. She hoped he didn’t burn the photograph she’d included of them.

When she got his reply, she didn’t really know whether to feel elated or embarrassed. Harry basically agreed with Mum, and said that this was the best Christmas he’d ever had. Later on, she’d realize that this was really the first time he’d ever gotten to properly celebrate the holiday, and that knowledge left her feeling hollow inside. He was so nice! And his aunt and uncle treated him so awful! She sat in her long awaited hot bath back at The Burrow and couldn’t stop crying for some reason.

Things seemed to get better over the spring, and she began looking forward to seeing him again at King’s Cross. But his last letter was very disturbing, at turns cryptic and terrifying. He’d actually confronted He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named inside of Hogwarts! The idea of that Dark Wizard actually penetrating Hogwarts was awful -- it felt like a rug had been pulled out from under her perception of what should be unquestionably safe and secure. She knew better than to say anything to Mum. Despite her parents’ faith in Professor Dumbledore, she didn’t want to chance them having second thoughts about letting her attend next year. Harry’s closing remarks were even stranger. With all he’d told her over the year, she couldn’t imagine what he was still keeping back from her -- and a scared voice in her head said maybe it was better if she didn’t know.

But she couldn’t ignore the plea woven through his words. He seemed to be afraid of alienating her. Why was he so worried about what she thought?

Seeing Harry again at the train station had been a shock. He’d worn that ruddy scarf, no matter that it was summer. He said he’d picked up a cold, but she didn’t really believe it, and that made her feel -- well, it was hard to describe, really. Nice was a good word, but rather vague.

Harry’s aunt and uncle hadn’t shown up to collect him. She felt a flash of guilt that she’d been happy about such a thing, but it did mean that she got to spend a little more time with him than she would otherwise. The ride back to The Burrow on the Knight Bus seemed to be over far too quickly. She didn’t understand the panicky feeling she got as the bus zoomed off and disappeared.

Mum was quite irate about Ron breaking his wand, and even more so when he showed her the money Harry had given him to replace it. The story about Harry accidentally breaking it seemed a bit off, but her brother was a terrible liar — one look at his ears and you’d know the truth. He hadn’t made it up.

But when Mum asked Ron why Harry dressed so raggedly when he obviously had money, her big brother, her Ronnie, almost broke down crying when he started ranting about Harry’s legal guardians -- the people he was returning to as they looked at each other.

She couldn’t stand it. She wasn’t going to let them see her cry so she ran up to her room before she broke down.

She didn’t like crying. She didn’t like how she felt before, during, or after bawling her eyes out. But it seemed like every time she’d broken down during this strange, strange year, it was related to Harry Potter. She ought to resent the emotional upheaval he’d brought into her life, but somehow she couldn’t.

That little seed of resentment would soon come back to haunt her. Hedwig didn’t return to The Burrow. She and Ron sent letters with Errol, and even the twins got into the act. Errol always returned with empty talons and no replies were sent with other owls.

Errol wasn’t always the most reliable owl -- he’d been in the family for decades, and he’d gotten a bit disoriented in his old age. After two weeks though, Ginny was getting really worried. Harry hadn’t gone more than a week between letters, even when he had a badly broken arm. Something was wrong. Something was dreadfully wrong.

She talked to her parents, but they were a little uneasy about talking to Muggles who might not take kindly to an inquiry about their nephew. She always had the feeling that Mum didn’t really believe things were as bad as Harry admitted. It wasn’t that she thought he was dishonest -- it was more like she didn’t want to believe it.

When she realized that, Ginny gained a new perspective on her Mum. She’d always wondered if Mum felt bad about having so many children. As the youngest, Ginny sometimes wondered if she’d really been wanted. Realizing that Mum couldn’t even imagine having a child and not loving it was reassuring. Just because they didn’t like the same things didn’t mean Mum would stop caring about her -- however much she might roll her eyes if her daughter took up the unladylike sport of Quidditch.

Dad did promise that if they hadn’t heard from Harry a week after his Birthday, he’d make an official inquiry at work. He explained that it was a little touchy, interfering with a Muggle household, and even more since Harry was the famous Boy Who Lived.

As the days counted down to Harry’s birthday with no word, Ginny felt an increasing anxiety. Something was wrong. Even if Harry didn’t want to write to her anymore, she couldn’t imagine him not telling her so. When she shared her fears with Ron, she was pleasantly surprised that he didn’t dismiss or question her. They both went and talked to the twins, who surprisingly carried on an entire conversation on a serious topic without making a single joke. Soon Fred and George were trading significant glances and moving things about the house. She wasn’t sure what preparations they were making, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know.

She should, however, have known that they would make their move when Dad didn’t come home for dinner. She’d gone to bed that night and vague dreams of Harry in trouble plagued her rest. She woke up in the morning to complete pandemonium.

She was about to lay one on Ron for roughly shaking her awake, but when she saw his face; her hand fell limply to the covers. “Harry,” he said roughly. “Mum Apparated him straight to Saint Mungo’s.” She wasn’t even aware if Ron left her room while she dressed.

She was downstairs hearing the full story from Ron and the twins when Dad stepped out of the fireplace. His timing was good, because if Percy said one more word about how that flying car was going to get everyone in trouble the consequences would have been dire. Her father asked her if she’d rather wait with the Lovegoods, but he didn’t sound like he really expected her to take him up on it. She liked Luna, and she’d been over to see her a few times, but the girl was so quiet and withdrawn that it was hard to carry on a conversation. As anxious as Ginny was, she’d probably be ready to strangle someone within the hour. She shook her head at her father and followed them through the Floo network.

It was days before she got to see Harry, and he still looked awful. He looked so small lying there, yet he still made jokes. Why was he so happy? Ginny wasn’t lying when she told Mum she didn’t really want any lunch. Her stomach was rolling over like a wheel from looking at her best friend, covered in bruises and bandages.

When Ron tossed Harry his scarf, she was confused and embarrassed. Something passed between her brother and his friend, but she didn’t really understand it. Her brothers had rescued Harry, and she felt almost cheated that she hadn’t been there to help. Reading that stupid newspaper to him was a poor substitute, but at least he was able to laugh a few times before Mum returned to collect her. He even managed to tease her about chewing on her hair.

She didn’t really understand why he still wanted to read the letters she’d written. Something about the way he described it -- ’I just like knowing what you were thinking when you wrote it. There’s a little piece of you in there, you know.’ It made her shiver a bit, even as she blushed.

She had no idea why he kept doing things like that to her.

After dinner that night, Dad called a Family Meeting. Usually that means that they will be discussing something of major importance to the entire family. His announcement certainly qualified.

“Well, your Mother and I have talked things over with Harry, and we’re filing paperwork with the Ministry to become Harry’s legal guardians. He’s coming here when he’s discharged from Saint Mungo’s.”

The dead silence that followed that announcement was broken by the scrape of Ron’s chair on the kitchen floor. Her brother, who wasn’t big on public displays of affection, was standing next to his seated father, hugging him around the shoulders. The twins might have said something, but they were a little choked up as well. Percy was frowning, but didn’t say anything. Her mum was staring at her husband and youngest son when Ginny got up from her chair and walked over to her as well. She whispered “Thank you,” as she hugged her mother.

“I didn’t do it for you, dear,” Mum whispered back, returning the hug.

“I know,” Ginny said, sniffing.

Of course, the twins put on a big show when they returned to Saint Mungo’s to visit Harry. She’d brought her letters as he requested, but her brothers brought the rest of the mail as well. Percy hadn’t expressed much interest in coming, which puzzled her. When she asked Ron about it, her brother shrugged and explained that Percy wasn’t terribly fond of Harry. He’d broken a lot of rules at Hogwarts, he didn’t get along with some of the Professors, and he and his friends had cost Gryffindor a lot of house points.

“But that’s silly!” she exclaimed. “Besides, you still won the house cup, didn’t you?”

Ron shrugged. “That doesn’t matter. You know how Percy is about rules.”

While she agreed that was in character for the third Weasley son, the fact that he’d carry that antipathy outside of school made her see him in a different, less flattering, light.

When Harry opened the letter from Gringotts, she started to see him a little differently too. The grin on his face would have done the twins proud. This was only confirmed when they told Mum about the dragon. Ginny was furious that they told on Harry though, and let them know in no uncertain terms.

That was when Fred and George decided to play dirty. She wanted to die on the spot when they said she didn’t want to have Harry as a ‘brother’. She knew very well what they were implying, but she was too young for that and it was horribly embarrassing and HOW COULD THEY SAY THAT IN FRONT OF HIM?

She was about to run out of the room when Harry, of all people, got angry and yelled at them. Well, he didn’t yell, but he looked angry and his voice was very direct. And the twin terrors apologized. Would wonders never cease? She had to sit down after that as Harry began going through his accumulated letters. She couldn’t imagine why some crazy house elf was stealing his post, but she was glad he’d gotten it back. She also noticed that Harry was saving her letters in a different stack. She wondered if that meant he wasn’t interested in reading them, or was he saving them for later?

When Harry got out of hospital, he tried to fit in at The Burrow, but it was a little odd. He didn’t act like a guest, but Ginny had never known a boy who would help in the kitchen without being dragged by the ear. No sooner did he get settled than he was back down there helping her peel potatoes. He was so weird.

She started working again, but she was a little distracted by his presence. He whispered to her to be careful, because Ron would tease her if she cut her thumb. She got a warm glow from that. In their letters, she told him how her older brothers tended to always treat her like a helpless baby. Now Harry was siding with her on that issue, just like in his replies. He didn’t think she was a baby, and he wanted to help her prove it to Ron and the rest.

If someone told her a year ago that the Boy Who Lived would become such a good friend, she’d have thought they were mental. It was almost uncanny how Harry always knew the right thing to say. Maybe she’d said more in those letters than she realized, but sometimes he seemed to know her better than she knew herself. It should have made her feel weird, but it didn’t.

There was, however, no confusion regarding her feelings for Harry’s aunt and uncle. She hated them with every fibre of her being. Harry didn’t like them too much either, but he seemed to almost regard them as not worth worrying about, now that he was shed of them. But they’d hurt him so badly… he almost died… just thinking about that made her want to throw up. Overhearing that they might have done something to keep Harry from coming to live at The Burrow was even worse.

Ginny awoke instantly that night when she heard the stair below her landing creak. The twins were probably up to something, and the lack of subsequent noises meant it wasn’t her parents. She wondered if they were already returning from their mischief so she carefully checked her door for pranks before opening it. She was light enough that her weight wouldn’t make any of the steps creak, not to mention her visits to the broom shed had given her a lot of practice at being quiet. The door to the twins’ room was shut, but she could hear harsh breathing coming from the sitting room.

Seeing Harry leap from the couch with his wand out almost made her scream... but he was so embarrassed that she couldn’t get angry. She wondered what kind of dreams could make a boy who faced Voldemort unable to sleep, but she knew she couldn’t press him. Not with the anguish on his face and in his voice.

Ginny tried to reassure him before she went back to her room, but she wasn’t sure how effective she was. She was a long time getting back to sleep.

She was a little surprised when Harry agreed to her joining them on their morning runs like it was the most natural thing in the world. She was especially gratified when Harry argued with Ron on her behalf. Normally, that would irritate her, but it didn’t when Harry did it. She also realized that he could convince her brother a lot easier than she could. Some of his arguments were a little ominous in their implications… Harry seemed to consider Hogwarts to be a dangerous place. While that argument convinced Ron, it sent a chill down Ginny’s spine.

She wanted to ask Harry about that, so she dressed quickly and volunteered to help Mum run errands at Diagon Alley. They’d barely gotten started when Percy’s owl found them. Mum was torn, but she agreed to let Ginny wait for Harry while she sorted out the trespassing reporter.

Harry looked so grim when he entered the lobby that she couldn’t help but tease him about his language. At least it got the frown off his face. When she agreed to go shopping with him, she felt very mature. They were going to take care of things for Harry without Mum having to do everything. She didn’t, however, expect Harry to buy her a wand. She honestly tried to talk him out of it, but he was so adamant that she needed to have a wand attuned to her magic.

That gave her chills as she remembered what he’d implied about Hogwarts not being safe. It also made her realize that breaking Ron’s wand wasn’t really an accident. She laughed at Harry’s cajolery, but part of her began to wonder what secrets Harry had to save for later.

Clothes shopping for Harry was quite fun, even though his tastes were a bit dark for her. Anything would be better than those ragged cast-offs he’d gotten from those awful Dursleys. Her happy thoughts came to an abrupt halt when Percy started yelling at them. Harry, however, wasn’t at all cowed by her prefect brother. As much as Percy seemed to be cool toward Harry, Harry seemed to be unimpressed by the most accomplished of her brothers.

Of course, as soon as they got home, Percy immediately tried to get them in trouble. For all that Harry wasn’t intimidated by Percy; he seemed to wither when Dad used his serious voice. When Harry flinched away from the hand on his shoulder she wanted to be sick. He’d been afraid of getting hit.

After he went upstairs, Mum started in on her. It was worse when Mum didn’t yell. When she spoke quietly, but intently, you knew she really meant it, and that she wasn’t just on a tear. She talked a lot about how Harry must be feeling, and how lonely he had to be. Ginny had thought about this a lot, and she agreed with most of it. When Mum started in about how insecure Harry had to be, and how he’d do anything to keep his friends, she started wondering where this was going.

“Now Ginny, I know some people would be tempted to let Harry buy them things, or spend money taking them places. I know Harry has a lot of money left to him by his parents, and he doesn’t really care that much about it. But whether he wants to spend it or not doesn’t matter. Only an awful person would take advantage of all the bad luck Harry has had. Only a really selfish person would let Harry buy them things or take his money. Your father and I had to agree to some things before Harry would agree to come home with us. The poor dear has had it beaten into him that he’s such a bother that he… well he insists on contributing toward the grocer’s bill. But I don’t want you or your brothers bothering him for presents! Do you understand me, Ginevra? I know your birthday is coming up, but I want it to be a surprise to Harry so he won’t feel awkward about not having a gift for you.”

She nodded dumbly as her stomach rolled over. Harry didn’t want her to say anything about the wand, and she wouldn’t betray his confidence, but Mum was going to kill her. She could barely keep her lunch down.

She’d never dreaded her birthday before.

She distracted herself that afternoon by getting a potion from Fred and using it to get Percy back for embarrassing Harry. But she still felt awful as she pretended to read a book and watched Harry and Ron play chess. That night she tossed and turned, wondering if Mum was right and if she’d actually become an awful person. Had she maybe hinted in one of her letters that she wanted a new wand? Had she looked enviously at Ron when he talked about his wand? Finally, she gave up after a nightmare about Mum screaming at her and kicking her out of the house.

She pulled some clothes on and crept down the stairs. Sometimes flying would clear her head. At least the moon was bright enough to see by. She was finally starting to calm down when she saw motion near the garden. She thought she’d been caught by her brothers, but when she flew closer she saw Harry.

All the pent up guilt and worry boiled over when he offered to let her use his racing broom. Surprisingly enough, he knew exactly what was bothering her. She couldn’t help but tell him what Mum said. That got him very angry. When he asked her if she was a -- one of those women, she wanted to hit him.

Then he proceeded to rant about how wrong Mum was, and how she was nothing like that. As he wound down, she realized he was actually complimenting her, and saying he knew she would never take advantage of him. He knew it like he knew the sun rose in the East. By the time he finished talking, she was calm again. They would handle Mum and Dad if they needed to.

As she helped Harry cook breakfast for everyone, she thought a lot about his words. When Mum gave her that talking to, her words were like caramels with fish hooks imbedded inside. They were nice, friendly, and polite, but it wasn’t until the implications sank in that they really started to hurt. Harry’s words to her in the garden were like a snowball thrown at your face. They were cold and shocking at first, to get your attention. But there wasn’t any lasting ache or injury.

Making breakfast together was almost therapeutic. Harry was a good cook, though he tended to do things the Muggle way. By the time Mum came down the stairs, Ginny was able to face her without a scowl.

Of course, Fred had to be a prat, and Ron started nagging Harry about how much sleep he was getting. But the highlight of the meal was when Percy got his comeuppance. It was a relief to get outside before she lost her temper and spoiled things.

It was also a relief to understand why Harry was keeping things secret, even if the Occlumency exercises were hard to do. She got a bad shock when Harry talked about transferring to Beauxbatons, and she was glad that he was only bluffing. She almost wished Harry wasn’t teaching the twins how to defend their minds, but that was a mean thought. And after she explained about Percy’s underwear, her brothers didn’t look anxious to cross her again.

Her birthday party went better than she expected, probably because she made a point of opening Harry’s present last. The brooch Bill sent her was probably more expensive, but that didn’t matter to Mum. The look on her mother’s face made Ginny want to sink into the floor.

Her brothers all left under that glare, but Harry wouldn’t. After the way he reacted to Dad after they returned from Diagon Alley, Ginny did not expect Harry to stand up to her parents the way he did. He was never disrespectful, but he was… very firm. He explained why Hogwarts wasn’t always safe, though her parents required more details than she had. Oddly enough, while Mum got angry, Dad stayed very calm. He looked at Harry thoughtfully and asked if he’d thought it all out ahead of time.

When Harry confirmed that he was worried about their safety and asked if they still wanted him living there, Ginny could barely keep herself from yelling at him to stop. She didn’t want Mum to send him away, but she didn’t think Harry would want her to interrupt. Mum got very weepy and hugged both of them. Ginny froze when Harry hugged Mum back and one of his arms went around her waist as well.

Ginny thought about how Harry had spoken after they left for his guardianship hearing. Anything was better than sitting around with her brothers worrying. She’d never seen anyone change Mum’s mind once it was made up. The key, she was sure, lay in his composure. He didn’t get mad, he didn’t get upset. Well he got upset the time before, but that was because he felt guilty when he figured out why Dad was upset. This last time, Harry thought he was doing the right thing, so he just calmly explained his reasons -- and then Dad calmed Mum down. Mum was used to dealing with the famous Weasley temper, wasn’t she? Being logical seemed to catch her off balance. Ginny filed that idea away for future reference.

The look on Mum’s face when she emerged from the Floo alarmed Ginny. She was smiling and crying at the same time. Ginny felt like crying herself when Mum grabbed her and Ron into a bone-breaking hug. What had the Ministry done with poor Harry?

When her mother said they’d been granted guardianship of Harry, Ginny’s knees almost buckled.

“Why are you crying then?” Ron asked.

“Well, because I am so proud of my children,” Mum replied. “Harry had to speak to the court, and all he could talk about was what good friends you two were. Harry went on an on about how you saved his life and helped with his studies and didn’t care about his money or his fame or, or… I’m just so proud of you, all of you. I know I don’t always say it, but I am. The Malfoys and the Diggorys went on about how they had so much money, or big houses with security, or all that rubbish. And little Harry got up and talked about what great people the Weasleys were, and how wonderful his friends were. I could just burst!”

Mum squeezed them again and Ginny thought she was going to start seeing spots before she let go.

Of course, when Mum told them that Harry and Dad were still filling out paperwork, that was their cue to begin preparing a special lunch with as many of Harry’s favourites as Ron could remember from Hogwarts. There must have been a lot of paperwork, because they were done well before Harry and Dad returned.                                                          

When the twins began dancing that ridiculous jig, Ginny couldn’t help but grab Ron and join in. Harry’s relieved laughter was more than worth a little embarrassment. Ginny seemed to find herself doing more and more ridiculous things lately.

Still, she wasn’t prepared when Harry grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the house to go play Quidditch. She didn’t have a broom, other than the toy one the twins had given her for her birthday. She didn’t fancy sitting around watching her brothers play like some useless tag-along. But Harry was so happy, and he wanted her to come, so she gave in. Besides, his fingers wrapped around her elbow were so warm…

When Harry landed, holding his shoulder, she was concerned he’d hurt himself. But his eyes were smiling as he held out his broom to her. When he stepped forward and taunted her about showing her brothers, his smile was kindly, not mean. She still hesitated. If anything happened to his broom…

Oddly enough, it was Ron warning Harry about that very thing that made up her mind. She grabbed the broom from Harry’s hands and took off into the air as fast as she could. It felt really… good… to fly loops around her brothers, leaving them gobsmacked. She knew she had a faster broom than they did, but as Ron had once reminded her when he refused to let her use his: “The better the broom, the better the flyer has to be to handle it”. Making him eat those words was a delicious experience.

Ginny had never gotten to compete with her bigger and stronger brothers on an even playing field before. But on a broom, being smaller meant the broom would accelerate faster. She’d likely never play beater, but for a chaser, speed and manoeuvrability were everything.

In short, she kicked all their arses. And it felt good.

She did feel a twinge of conscience when they all landed for dinner. Harry probably hadn’t meant for her to use his broom the whole afternoon. But when she tried to apologize, he just laughed it off. He said he’d rather watch her play chaser than play himself. She wondered if Harry was coming down with something.

It had taken some cajolery the following day to get Dad to explain why Harry wanted to go to Azkaban. Ginny could have asked him herself, but she had a feeling it was painful for Harry to talk about. She wanted to ask her father why the Ministry didn’t want to free Sirius if he was innocent, but she had a feeling the answer wasn’t one she wanted to hear.

Not knowing what else to do, she just focused on the training with Harry and Ron. She didn’t want Harry worrying about her, either because he thought she couldn’t defend herself, or because he didn’t think she could keep his secrets. She thought she was going to cry when Harry couldn’t stand to watch her spar with Ron anymore. That made her work even harder. There was no way she could become stronger than her big brother, but she could definitely become faster.

When Harry and Dad returned, they were accompanied by a tall black man with a shaved head. Ron was upset when they stunned his rat Scabbers and carried him out in his cage, but that was nothing compared to the bomb Harry dropped.

That rat was a wizard, one responsible for his parents’ murder.

Harry slipped out the back door while everyone was staring at each other. He evidently didn’t want company because Ginny had to check almost every tree in the orchard before she found him near the back corner. He was sitting cross-legged, staring downward. She didn’t even want to think of how upset he had to be.

Harry barely noticed when she sat down, but he started violently when she touched his knee. He seemed so… wrapped up in his misery that she could hardly stand to watch it. At least he laughed a little when she said she’d be hexing people in his shoes.

She tried to draw him out a little, get him talking, by listing all the valid reasons he had for being upset, but something still made him freeze up. She reluctantly stood up, wondering if he’d rather be left alone. At that point she decided that she’d rather irritate him by being there when he didn’t want it, than leave him alone when he might possibly need her.

So she took her courage in her hands and sat down in his lap.

He didn’t protest. He didn’t shove her away. He didn’t even flinch back. He shook a little when she pulled his head down onto her shoulder. The back of his neck was hot under her forearms. He shook again, and she wondered if he was on the brink of crying.

Then he wrapped his arms around her. She was so surprised she had to rebalance herself. Harry started to pull back, but she tightened her arms around his neck to let him know it was all right.

It was a powerful feeling, sitting there holding each other as the afternoon slipped away. She listened to Harry’s ragged breathing calm down little by little. By the time Ron called them in for dinner, she’d almost been dozing in the warm august evening. She felt a warm glow spread over her body as they stood up and Harry thanked her.

Maybe her friend needed her as much as she needed him.

Such a wonderful, but strange, year.

~+~

Harry could barely look at Ginny during dinner that evening. If they’d been older, he knew that they would have gotten some odd looks when they returned to The Burrow. For a couple of hours, he was sixteen again, and Ginny was holding him the day after Dumbledore died -- before he stupidly tried to protect her by pushing her away. It seems that Ginny always instinctively knew how to make him feel better.

Molly seemed to sense his turmoil, because she simply set out plates for them without asking questions. Ron, on the other hand, looked a bit ill.

“Harry, mate, I’m sorry I-“

“Ron, if it’s about Scabbers, you have nothing to apologize for.”

“Still, if I-“

“Ronald,” Arthur Weasley cut in, “none of the rest of us thought his lifespan was anything to be suspicious about. Stop blaming yourself, son.”

“He even put one over on the twins,” Harry added.

Fred scowled at that, but George elbowed him and nodded. “That little rat fooled a lot of people, o’ brother of mine.”

“Like the entire Wizarding world, and his best friends,” Harry added darkly. Ginny frowned, so Harry took a deep breath and tried to smile. “Look mate, when we go to Diagon Alley for our books, we can check out Magical Menagerie, yeah?” Their school letters had arrived almost unnoticed the day of the guardianship hearing.

“Just no more rats,” Ron said with a shudder. “Maybe an owl…”

Harry shrugged. “If you like, but I don’t think Hedwig will ever turn you down.”

“True,” Ron agreed, then began grinning. “With Ginny at Hogwarts she won’t be constantly in use, will she?”

Ginny’s face went a little pink as she took a bite of her pudding. Harry just smiled. “I suppose not,” he agreed affably. “That means you can write to your Mum more often, now doesn’t it?”

Ron coughed while his mother beamed.

The following Monday, Neville wrote to say that the greenhouse was completed and his Gran let him invite everyone over to see it. Hermione had just returned from holiday on the continent, but her parents weren’t prepared to take any more time off until Wednesday, when they were going to Diagon Alley for her school supplies. It took a bit of arranging by owl, but Hermione’s parents agreed to come to the Leaky Cauldron a bit earlier than they planned and Flooing up to Lancashire to join the Weasleys. Harry remembered a grief-stricken Hermione reminiscing about how her parents always felt a bit excluded from her life in the magical world, so he was glad she was bringing them along on this visit. Neville’s Gran was a bit forbidding, but the friendly Weasleys were exactly what the Grangers needed to see.

Harry realized that he wasn’t the only one who found Neville’s grandmother to be a bit intimidating. Molly fussed over his and Ron’s clothes and absolutely forbade the twins from accompanying them. She didn’t seem inclined to let Ginny come either until Harry pointed out that she’d likely be joining their study group at Hogwarts to get a head start on her own classes. She finally agreed after extracting a rather alarming oath from her daughter to be on her best behaviour.

Finally, after leaving detailed instructions with Percy on when to bring the twins to Gringotts, Molly threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fireplace and announced “Longbottom Manor” in a loud voice.

When Harry’s turn came, he found himself skidding on his knees across the polished tiles that surrounded a massive fireplace. As he awkwardly climbed to his feet he resolved to re-hem his plain robes at the earliest opportunity. Then he looked around and fought the urge to whistle out loud.

The sitting room had a ceiling well over twelve feet high. The walls were lined with expensive-looking portraits in gilt frames and the furniture looked very old and very expensive. Although it was kept very neat, Harry nonetheless got an impression of brooding age from the elaborate fixtures. It reminded him uncomfortably of number twelve Grimmauld Place, minus the filth.

Thinking about that place reminded Harry of Sirius. He’d checked the Daily Prophet each day, but didn’t see any announcements regarding his release or even getting a new hearing. His letter to Remus Lupin had not been answered either. Harry took a deep breath and shook his head. He brushed a few wisps of ash from his robes and focused on their hosts.

Madam Longbottom was in her customary green robes, but Neville wore faded trousers with dirt permanently ground into the knees and a button-up shirt with the sleeves rolled up over his forearms. His round face was ruddy from the sun and even his hair seemed lighter in colour. He also appeared to have lost weight, even though his shoulders seemed a bit broader.

“Wow, Neville, you look good, mate,” Harry exclaimed.

His friend’s face became redder, seeming to be both pleased and embarrassed at the compliment. “I, er, well I kept up with my running and such.”

“That he has,” his Gran said in a regal voice. “He looks more like his father every day.”

Neville’s eyes looked like they wanted to pop completely out of his face.

The fireplace roared again, disgorging the Grangers into the sitting room. Hermione’s parents looked a little disoriented from spinning through the Floo network, with which Harry empathized. Ron remembered his manners and introduced Ginny, who curtseyed shyly, while Hermione introduced her parents around.

While the adults settled down for a cup of tea, Neville led the rest out onto the grounds. Along the south wall of the main house was a huge glassed in greenhouse, easily the size of one of the Herbology classrooms at Hogwarts.

“Neville, this is amazing!” Hermione gushed. She was looking very tan as well. Her letters said her parents had taken her to Spain on a tour of the old castles there. Her dad was evidently a bit barmy about old historical sites and such. Of course, everything Hermione was learning about Wizarding history was turning a lot of his preconceived ideas inside out, but he seemed to enjoy debating with his daughter on any topics that came up. Hermione came by her peculiarities honestly, Ron confirmed to Harry after reading her letter.

When he opened the door to let them in, Harry noticed the air inside was noticeably warmer than the air outside. Neville confirmed this. “Part of it’s the glass letting the sunlight in, and part of it is some low-powered warming charms placed on the individual panes.”

The tables inside were full of pots, sprouting an amazing variety of vegetation. “I can see why this took most of the summer to set up,” Harry said. “This is really impressive.”

Neville shrugged. “My Grand-uncle Algie gave me a lot of cuttings to get these started. He was nearly out of space anyway, and he’s going to use this to expand his plantings while I’m off at school. I didn’t think my Gran would go for something this big, but she got an owl from Professor Sprout at the end of term…” his voice trailed off and he seemed a little embarrassed.

“What did the professor say?” Hermione asked eagerly. As competitive as she was in most of her subjects, she was very supportive of Neville taking the lead in their Herbology revision. Some of it was probably due to their friend’s shyness, but she was also more than aware of his genius with regards to plants.

“Well, Gran said… she said I was the best student she’d had in her greenhouse in ages, and it was a sheer crime that I wasn’t one of her Hufflepuffs.” Harry and Ron burst out laughing while Hermione clapped her hands with glee. Ginny smiled uncertainly, but joined in the congratulations. Harry wondered if Neville had done that well the first time around, but just didn’t think they’d care. He felt ashamed that he didn’t really know.

“Nev here,” Harry said to Ginny, using the nickname that made his friend grin, “is the guy that helped us get outstanding marks in Herbology. If you’re nice, he might let you borrow his first year notes.” He turned to Neville. “Ginny is starting this year and will probably be joining our merry little band of blood-traitors.”

“Harry!” Hermione scolded.

“Hermione, how would certain people near and dear to your heart describe a bunch of purebloods, half bloods, and muggleborns hanging out together?”

“I don’t want to define myself in Draco’s terminology,” she said primly.

“Ah, but what if it’s meant sarcastically?” Harry asked, wiggling his eyebrow.

Hermione let out a giggle and swatted him on the shoulder. “You are incorrigible! But it’s good to hear you laughing, Harry. ”

Harry shrugged. “Things are going well.” He pointed his finger at Ron, who was opening his mouth, “I’m staying at The Burrow now and I may never have to see another Dursley again. That’s a cause for celebration. I got to see my godfather and he knows I believe in him. And I’m just bloody happy to see all my friends again, yeah?”

Ron rolled his eyes but laughed along with everyone else. Hermione smiled at Ginny as the noise died down. “So you’re starting at Hogwarts this year?”

Ginny nodded, flushing a little.

“Good, if you want to study with us for other subjects, I have most of my notes from last year.”

Ginny smiled shyly. “I have Harry’s letters talking about the classes you took as well.”

Hermione gave Harry an odd, almost calculating look, and he decided to change the subject. “Neville, do you have any friends around here starting Hogwarts?”

Neville shook his head sadly. “There really aren’t any magical children around here, at least none near my age. Gran says the younger families tend to move to the Southlands, mostly looking for work.”

“Luna Lovegood should be starting this autumn,” Ginny said, “She’s a bit shy, but she’s nice.”

“Loony Lovegood?” Ron asked. “She’s a bit off if you ask- Ow!”

Ginny rather neatly interrupted him by stomping on her brother’s instep. “Ronald Bilius, if you can’t say something nice, I’ll render you incapable of saying anything. Don’t forget what happened to Percy.” Hermione looked up curiously at this but didn’t say anything.

Ron’s face went from red to white rather quickly. “She is kind of strange though,” he said defensively.

”That may be the case, but she did lose her mum a couple of years ago when a spell backfired on her,” Ginny said, scolding her brother.

Ron looked a bit ashamed and Harry sought a way to change the topic of conversation. He reached into his bag and brought out the Occlumency book. “Hey Nev, Hermione figured out what Snape was doing during potions class that was giving me a headache.”

“Really?” Neville asked with a grin. His friend’s antipathy toward the potions master had never lessened after their first class, when he concluded Snape to be a ‘sorry excuse for a wizard’. Neville was absent-mindedly moving a tray of pots with clippings stuck in the dirt and paused between tables. Harry couldn’t help but notice the muscles standing out on the boy’s forearms.

“I see you’ve been doing more than just running,” Harry said.

Neville blushed. “Well, I wanted to keep up. You know, on everything. But I didn’t have anyone here to spar with. So I tried to help as much as I could with the construction and did a lot of lifting. I also did a lot of katas, but I’m worried about my timing.”

“It’s all good, Nev. We’ll get it sorted out when we’re back at Hogwarts. Ginny’s barely started and she’s getting to be faster than me and Ron already.” Neville and Hermione looked with some surprise at the youngest Weasley, who promptly turned bright red.

Neville stowed the tray of pots and gave them a tour of the greenhouse. Harry couldn’t recall the properties of more than a third of the plants Neville pointed out. Hermione seemed to be doing a little better, but she was clearly impressed by the variety as well as the condition of the plants. When they were done, Neville’s face was glowing with pride. Even Ron, who found Herbology to be ‘right boring at times, mate’ was congratulating his friend.

“You know,” Harry said, “Muggles who have a gift for growing plants are said to have a ‘green thumb’. I think Neville has a ‘green thumb’ that runs all the way up to his shoulder.”

Hermione laughed at this, while the others looked a little confused.

They settled down on a stone bench out on the grounds while Hermione explained to Neville the basics of Legilimency and Occlumency. Harry watched him pale at the thought of Professor Snape sifting through his memories. Neville had always been a very private person. He only talked about his parents after someone else brought it up, or the time Harry had walked in on them at Saint Mungo’s. And Harry was, in all modesty, probably one of Neville’s best friends. The idea of the hated potions master reviewing his memories of them must have been intolerable.

“This, this Occlumency will stop him?” Neville asked in a quavering voice.

”Once we get good enough at it,” Hermione assured him, squeezing his hand.

Surprisingly enough, it was Ron who also reassured the boy. He slung his gangling arm across the stocky boy’s shoulders. “I know how you feel, mate,” he said seriously. “Thinking about that greasy git poking around in my head makes me want to spew.”

“Ronald, that was a bit crude,” Hermione objected.

“Accurate though,” Harry said thoughtfully.

Neville chuckled in spite of himself. “It’s going to drive him spare if he can’t get into any of our minds, won’t it?”

“More than likely. He’s hated my guts since day one, at least partially for that reason,” Harry agreed. “He probably will also treat you even worse at that point,” he warned.

“It will be more than worth it,” Neville said firmly. “It will be nice once we can talk to each other and know our conversations will remain private, won’t it Harry?”

Harry nodded slowly. Longbottom was never really slow on the uptake, was he? he mused. “I’ll leave this book with you until start of term. Ron and Ginny already know the meditation exercises they need to work on, as do the twins.”

“You’re helping them learn how to hide their thoughts? Snape will lose his mind then.” Neville didn’t look at all displeased by the prospect. “I’ll get started on this right away.”

“You may want to do the exercises in short sessions; otherwise you might get a headache. We found alternating them with the more physical practice was a good contrast,” Harry advised.

“Yeah, but by the end of the day you’ll be utterly knackered,” Ron groused good-naturedly.

“A little hard work won’t kill you,” Hermione told him, but smiled when he started to object. Harry bit back a laugh. Hermione teasing Ron about homework? Ron not blowing his stack? Would wonders never cease?

Neville accepted the book from Harry, promising to return it back at Hogwarts, then led them back inside. Harry noticed Ginny hanging back a little as they walked across the well-manicured lawn.

When they arrived in the dining room, the Weasleys and the Grangers seemed to be getting along quite well with Madam Longbottom. They were all laughing at some story that Arthur Weasley had just told, apparently related to his job.

“Ah, back already?” Arthur said, rising to his feet. “Well, we do have some books to pick up. We do appreciate your hospitality, Augusta!”

Neville’s Gran waved her hand in a shooing motion. “Oh, think nothing of it,” she said, “Neville’s been anxious to show off his new greenhouse since it was completed. He deserves some time in the limelight, as hard as he’s worked.” Harry wondered if she’d been hitting the cooking sherry as he watched a pleased blush creep up Neville’s neck. Where was the extremely severe woman who made Professor McGonagall look like an old softie?

Neville asked if he could accompany them to Diagon Alley to pick up a tonic for Trevor, his toad. Mrs. Longbottom opened her mouth, but paused, looking from her grandson’s eager face to his friends and back. “Very well, Neville, but put a robe on and make sure you return by dinner time.”

The party began Flooing to the Leaky Cauldron while Neville got changed. Harry watched Ginny out of the corner of his eye. She seemed unusually subdued, but he didn’t want to say anything to her in front of the others. Harry knew she was very self-conscious about appearing immature in front of her family, admittedly with some good reason.

He followed her through the Floo and she grabbed his arm as he stumbled out, keeping him from tumbling to the mucky floor of the pub. He gave her a rueful smile, which she returned. He hoped that meant she was all right. Gringotts had owled him a couple of days ago about the ward upgrades, and Harry had one suggestion. He hoped Ginny and the others appreciated the surprise.

Neville was the last one through and they all marched through the archway into the alley proper. Their first stop was Gringotts, where Molly took a cart down to the Weasley vault and the Grangers exchanged some pound notes for galleons.

Harry had already withdrawn sufficient funds, and he remembered how uncomfortable it had been seeing the Weasley vault and them seeing his own. Percy and the twins were waiting for them in the lobby, the older brother looking quite put out.

At that point, everyone separated after receiving strict instructions from Mrs. Weasley to meet back at Flourish and Blotts in one hour. The twins left with Harry’s favourite Quidditch announcer, Lee Jordan. Percy went off by himself. Molly led Ginny toward the second-hand robe shop down the road from Gringotts where Harry had purchased his clothes. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville went to several shops together. At Quality Quidditch Supplies, Harry replaced one of his shin-guards that had a badly frayed strap. It had been reparo-ed so many times that it had more magic holding it together than leather, and Oliver ordered him to get it replaced at the team’s last practice. Hermione had been working on her parents about getting a familiar, but they hadn’t consented yet. She did, however, closely examine the breeds of owl available at Eeylop’s Owl Emporium, writing down a few notes on a piece of parchment she tucked into her pocket.

Neville picked up a tonic for Trevor at Magical Menagerie, while Ron looked at the creatures available. His Mum had slipped him a couple of sickles to find a replacement for Scabbers, but a lot of the pets were priced well out of his reach. Harry was wondering if he could do something when Ron asked the clerk something about kneazles.

“Well, yes, that’s correct, they are good at that. We don’t have any pure breeds though, and they are frightfully expensive. But we do have… well. Come on back with me. The poor dear isn’t very attractive and we haven’t gotten a single offer in the fortnight we’ve had him here…” her voice trailed off as she led Ron around a display of self-walking leashes.

Harry got a queer feeling as he worked his way through the aisles, detouring around Hogwarts students stocking up on pet treats. He heard voices dickering, one of which was Ron’s.

“Done!” Ron said amiably. A moment later he came back around the corner, face to face with Harry, his arms full of a very disagreeable-looking ginger tom.

Harry felt the blood drain out of his face.

“The clerk says his name is Crookshanks. He’s part-kneazle, so he’s ruddy smart, and they’re supposed to be good at sniffing out suspicious characters. If that bloody rat ever escapes and tries to come back, you’ll eat him for breakfast, won’t you?”

The cat cocked its mashed-in face up at its new owner as if to say “yeah, whatever”. It did, however, begin purring like a mini with a broken muffler when Ron’s fingers scratched the back of its neck.

“I didn’t know you were a cat person, Ron,” Harry said in what he knew had to be an odd tone.

“Well, I’m not going to be a rat person after what happened, am I now? Are you all right, Harry?”

Harry nodded and led Ron back to the others who were in front of the store now.

“Oh Ron, he’s gorgeous, isn’t he? What’s his name?” Hermione gushed when she saw the cat. She immediately began scratching behind its ears and the bottle brush tail began switching back and forth.

“Clerk said his name was Crookshanks. Got a deal on him on account of him being so ugly. You’re a great ugly ball of fur aren’t you?” Ron said in an affectionately amused tone.

Crookshank’s tail drooped and then shot upward to smack the side of Ron’s head with surprising force. Hermione let out a snort, but Ron just smiled. “Told you he was a smart bugger.”

When they made their way to Flourish and Blotts, there was a large crowd gathered in front of the store. With a mental groan, Harry remembered the book signing being conducted by that monumental fraud, Gilderoy Lockhart.

Harry’s academic career had been marred by the appearance of some spectacularly bad Defence Against the Dark Arts professors, Remus Lupin being the sole exception. Technically, the Death Eater masquerading as Mad Eye Moody had done a decent job of preparing his students… but that whole resurrecting Voldemort and getting Cedric killed thing sort of ruined any chance of Harry giving Barty Crouch Jr. a good recommendation.

While Dolores Umbridge was undoubtedly the most loathsome of the lot, edging out Snape by a hair, none of them seemed to irritate and embarrass Harry quite as much as the grandstanding poseur he’d had his second year. He learned next to nothing that year and Harry wondered how many people died because a year’s worth of preparation had been squandered on the man’s raging egotism.

So Harry was moderately disgruntled as they settled into the line with the Weasleys and the Grangers. Hearing Molly and Hermione gush about the fraud didn’t improve his mood. Harry had actually already purchased the Standard Book of Spells, Grade Two, last year; so all he needed to do now was just buy all seven of his books that Lockhart required his students to purchase.

Harry made an effort to stand behind some of the Weasleys, but when the photographer knocked Ron out of the way, Lockhart still picked Harry out of the crowd. “It can’t be Harry Potter!” the man shouted.

When Lockhart dived forward and seized Harry’s arm, Harry twisted his arm around the man’s wrist, rotating his arm within Lockhart’s grip until his fingers popped open.

“Har-ry,” Lockhart said in a stage whisper. “You and I together are worth the front page!”

Harry tried to back into the crowd, but while they parted to make room for Lockhart, they closed behind Harry. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mr. and Mrs. Weasley straining to push through the packed aisle. The pushy photographer shot another picture from behind Harry and to the side, no doubt so it would look like he was standing next to the smiling Lockhart. It probably also meant that Harry’s scowl was mostly invisible as well.

“Ladies and gentlemen, what an extraordinary moment this is! It’s a perfect opportunity for me to make an announcement I’ve been wanting to make for some time now!”

“When young Harry here stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography — which I shall be happy to supply free of charge!” This got scattered applause from the crowd and a sneer of distaste from Harry. Gilderoy must have been a very accomplished liar, Harry decided, because the man seemed a bit disconcerted by the irritation and distaste Harry was displaying. Had he never encountered someone who saw through his act? Harry wondered. He must have been awfully quick with the memory charms.

“He, er, Harry had no idea he would soon be getting more than just my book, Magical Me. He and his schoolmates would soon be getting the real magical me! Yes, ladies and gentlemen, in September I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

He then handed Harry the entire collected works of Gilderoy Lockhart as the photographer took his picture again. That flash caught Harry’s eye again, giving him another blind spot and adding to his headache. That probably contributed to what happened next.

“So you’re giving me these? That’s fine for me I suppose, but what about all the other Hogwarts students who have to buy seven defence books this year instead of one? Are you that desperate to boost your sales?”

The crowd got suddenly quiet as Lockhart’s smile became a trifle forced. “Now run along Harry, I’m sure you have plenty of things you need to pick up.” He turned Harry around, and gave the boy, his arms full of books, a little push to get him moving down the aisle slowly opening in the crowd.

Harry purposefully let his feet tangle and fell heavily to the floor in front of Lockhart. He got his arms out from under the heavy books and let himself land on them, reflecting that he’d already gotten more use out of them this time around than he did the entire year previously.

Mrs. Weasley was scowling at Lockhart as she helped Harry to his feet. The photographer continued taking pictures, but Gilderoy’s smile had lost a bit of its lustre.

As they collected themselves and made their other purchases, Hermione nudged Harry. “That was very rude. Pratfalls again?” she whispered in a very disapproving tone.

“I’m not happy about having a fraud teaching defence this year.”

“Harry, you don’t know that! He could be very-“

“Hermione, I know. I’ve read some of his books before. Check the dates he gives for some of those anecdotes and construct a timeline. Some of his stories overlap. There’s no way he could have done everything he says he did. He’s a liar.”

She raised her eyebrows at that, but didn’t say any more. Others, however, were not as forbearing.

“I bet you loved that, didn’t you Potter?” Draco Malfoy snarled from behind him. “Famous Harry Potter, can’t even go to a bookshop without making the front page.”

“Leave him alone, he didn’t ask for any of that!” Ginny snapped, glaring. Harry suppressed a smile. The more some things changed, the more they stayed the same. If that was the case he knew what came next.

“Potter, you’ve got yourself a girlfriend!” Draco drawled in obvious delight.

Harry ignored Ginny’s blush. “Why Draco, are you jealous? Or maybe not…” he leered in a suggestive fashion. “That’s right, you must miss Crabbe and Goyle so very much… ruddy poofter.”

Draco’s face went scarlet and he suddenly reached into his robes.

“Just try it, Malfoy!” Ron hissed from beside the Slytherin’s left elbow. Neville glared at him as well.

“Now boys,” Arthur’s voice cut in. He was struggling through the crowd with Fred and George behind him. “Let’s get out of this madhouse.”

“Well, well, well — Arthur Weasley,” Lucius said in his mocking tone as he laid his hand on Draco’s shoulder. The pale boy straightened and sneered at Ron and Neville. Harry’s eyes locked onto the serpent-headed cane in the senior Malfoys’ hand. The blade hidden inside was poisoned, and once upon a time it had taken Arthur Weasley’s life before he could be evacuated to Saint Mungo’s. Harry heard books around him start rattling on the shelves and forced himself to take a deep breath.

“And young Harry Potter,” Lucius continued, “It’s very sad about that hearing. I could have taught you some… proper manners. Ones those Muggles evidently failed to beat into you when they had a chance.”

Mr. Weasley leapt forward, knocking Ginny’s cauldron to the ground and brushing Draco aside; his hand made a distinct crack as it connected with Lucius Malfoy’s jaw. Harry hooked his foot behind the Death Eater’s ankle as he staggered back and he fell heavily to the floor, pulling Arthur with him. Draco pulled out his wand, but Ron and Neville grabbed his arms in a flash. Lucius brought his knee up into Arthur’s side, but Harry’s attention was riveted to the man’s right hand as it fumbled with his cane. He threw himself down on top of the man’s arm, pinning it to the floor. He began prying the cane out of his fingers when he felt something seize the back of his robes and lift him into the air.

Hagrid set Harry down next to Molly, then grabbed Arthur and Lucius, one in each hand, separating them. “Break it up, this isn’t th’ place to be doin’ this.” Harry wondered if Hagrid had come to Diagon Alley to buy flesh-eating slug repellent this time as well.

Lucius glared at the groundskeeper until he let him go. A massive bruise was already beginning to show on the pale skin under his jaw. He picked up Ginny’s cauldron and thrust it at her. “Here girl,” he sneered, ignoring the glare she shot back at him. “Enjoy your second-hand books and Mudblood friends as long as you are able. It won’t be long for such disgraces to catch up to you.”

Harry heard a gasp from the Grangers and his hands shook from the effort it took to not pull out his wand. Evidently Hermione had told them what that word meant. Molly’s hand on his shoulder was the only thing keeping him from screaming at the filthy Death Eater to shut his mouth. When they finally stalked out, muttering threats the whole time, Harry wanted to sink to his knees.

Hagrid brushed Arthur off, muttering about the Malfoys under his breath. Eventually they made their way out of the store, but the mood of the day had been quite thoroughly poisoned. Harry hung back and helped Hermione explain the whole concept of blood-prejudice to her shocked parents. Mr. Granger gave Harry a hard look as if blaming him for the situation he was explaining. Harry was a little fed up and scowled right back. “Look,” he said, “some of the berks pushing that pureblood philosophy killed my parents. That’s one of the reasons we have for hanging out together. Gryffindor House doesn’t put up with that garbage. It’s ugly, it’s nasty, but most importantly it’s not tolerated by decent folk.” Mr. Granger nodded curtly as his wife squeezed his arm. Hermione smiled gratefully at Harry.

A much subdued group made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron. Molly had been quite upset at Arthur for ‘public brawling’, until her husband whispered something into her ear. She looked sharply at Harry for a moment, but said no more.

Harry pulled Hermione aside for a minute before they took the Floo back to their home and the Grangers went to where their car was parked on Charing Cross Road. “You might want to come by on Friday,” he said quietly.

Hermione shook her head. “My father was really upset about what happened at Flourish and Blotts. I told him Mudblood was one of the worst… anyway. I’m afraid he didn’t like some of what he saw today.”

Harry sighed. “I suppose I can’t blame him. If you can come by The Burrow, we’re having the wards upgraded over the weekend. It should be fairly interesting to watch.”

Hermione’s eyes lit up. “Really? I’ve always wondered what was involved in that. Is it just spell work? Are there a lot of material components? Do they just weave the spells or are there significant arithmantic preparations first?”

Harry chuckled. “I have no idea. But if you want to find out, you might want to work on your Dad. You know, this would be easier if we could get your house hooked up to the Floo network.”

“I know,” Hermione sighed. “We do have a fireplace. I just have to convince them that it’s safe. Today probably helped in that regard.”

“I hope so,” Harry agreed. “Owl me if you can come.” When she nodded, Harry squeezed her hand and followed the last of the Weasleys through the fireplace.

While everyone was sorting themselves out in the kitchen, Harry volunteered to help Ginny carry her school things upstairs. As the only new student, she had the most things to purchase that day. Harry made a point of snagging the cauldron stuffed with books and quickly jogged up the stairs to the third landing.

Ginny’s room was surprisingly feminine, with powder blue walls and a butter-yellow comforter on the bed. He quickly set the cauldron down next to the trunk at the foot of the bed and riffled through it. Sure enough, he found a thin book with a worn black cover, the sight of which chilled his blood. He flipped it open, and as soon as he saw ‘T. M. Riddle’ on the first page he slammed it shut again.

He held the diary close to his side as he exited Ginny’s room and went up the stairs to the one he shared with Ron. He put the diary in his trunk, under his cauldron and some old socks. As he did that, his fingers brushed against the pistol he’d placed in there last week. I ought to do something about this, he mused before pulling it out and sticking it in his pocket.

He ran into Ginny on the stairs as she was bringing up the rest of her purchases. She thanked him for hauling her books and cauldron upstairs and he just smiled and nodded. When he reached the first floor, everyone was still talking excitedly and no one noticed him slip out the back door.

He took a deep breath of the fragrant evening air as he walked out to the orchard. The back corner of the grove was the farthest you could get from the main house and still be on the property. When he reached his destination, Harry made sure he was completely concealed by the trunk of a tree and pulled out the pistol. He held it carefully away from his body and pointed it at the ground about ten feet in front of him and pulled the trigger.

There was a sharp noise, not entirely unlike that of a Christmas cracker exploding. The gun jerked back in his hand, but nowhere near as much as Harry expected. The rich forest loam about three yards in front of him jumped. Harry froze, listening for some sort of outcry. He didn’t think the sound would carry that far, and if it did the Weasleys probably wouldn’t even know what it was. He knew it didn’t sound like the guns he’d heard used on television.

Smiling at the lack of reaction, he pulled the trigger again and again. With the magazine empty, the weapon was harmless. It was after almost a solid minute of firing that Harry paused. Looking down at the spent and ejected cartridges on the ground, Harry counted well over thirty rounds fired. There was no way the clip could hold that many rounds!

Then he recalled Arthur’s words about cleaning charms and a conjuration enchantment in the handle… Was this thing conjuring new bullets as they were fired? Is such a thing even possible?  He looked at the pistol in his hands with new respect. This could prove more useful than I thought. I’ll just have to keep a close eye on it.

That evening, Harry noticed Ginny was still quiet as they set the table for dinner. He decided to ask her what was bothering her after they ate. The conversation around the dinner table was subdued as well. Harry got the impression Mrs. Weasley was still upset at her husband regarding the altercation at Flourish and Blotts.

“Well Harry,” She said suddenly in a bright voice. “What do you think of your new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor?”

Harry carefully chewed and swallowed a mouthful of steak and kidney pie. “I think he’s a photogenic fraud with good teeth,” he replied.

Molly reared back like she’d been slapped and the twins snickered.

“You’re in for it now, ickle Harrikins,” one began.

“Mum fancies him a bit,” the other finished.

“Shut it you two,” Molly snapped. “Now Harry, you shouldn’t be so quick to judge. I know it was a bit, er, much today.”

“Actually, I read some of his books before, and his stories don’t add up very well. Either he’s incredibly sloppy with dates or he made up a lot of it.”

Molly blinked, frowning. “I see. Well, hopefully his classes should be all right.”

Harry shrugged. “If they aren’t, Hermione and I can put together some independent study topics to keep us all busy.”

Ron looked at him in utter horror.

Harry smirked at his friend. “And we know just the person to practice on, don’t we?”

Ron let out a bark of laughter but still looked uneasy. Harry noticed him palming some meat scraps off his plate and letting his hand drop out of sight. A loud purring erupted from under the table.

“Ron, I don’t know what possessed you to buy that cat. I thought maybe you’d get a nice trained rat, or perhaps —“

“No rats!” Ron snapped. “Er, sorry Mum. I just really don’t want to see another rat again. Besides, the clerk told me Crookshanks is a kneazle cross, so he’s dead smart and can sniff out suspicious types.” Harry noticed Ron’s eyes cut toward him as he said this.

“Yes, well, I suppose you did get a good deal,” Molly allowed. “But make sure you look after him.”

“I will Mum. He even stayed outside Flourish and Blotts when we went in, and waited for us to come out. He seems to understand what we say as well as a person.”

“Then I sincerely hope-“

“He doesn’t get offended-“

“When people wonder-“

“If he’s a very large cat,”

“Or a very small tiger.”

The twins snickered until a very cranky meow echoed from under the table and everyone else laughed out loud.

“I know who’s getting hairballs on their pillows,” Ginny said in a knowing voice, sending Harry into gales of laughter again.

They were gathering the dinner dishes when a plain brown owl arrived and landed on the half-cleared table looking expectantly at Harry. He unfolded the parchment curiously.

Dear Harry,

I apologize for not replying to your letter sooner, but I was temporarily indisposed. Your news was quite a shock. In the space of a single letter, I learned that a friend I mourned as a hero was both alive and a traitor. Another man who was once closer than a brother, but I had come to hate… he was innocent of all wrongdoing. I suppose, all things considered, I have come out of this experience with one more friend than I had going into it — and that is what I shall concentrate upon. I have petitioned to be allowed to see Sirius at the earliest possible opportunity, so I can apologize to his face for doubting him.

I would like to thank you, Harry, for giving me this chance to regain one of my oldest friendships. I was not aware that you had left your relatives’ care. At Dumbledore’s request, we were not to disrupt your cover. Now, however, if there is anything you wish to know about your parents or the past, I place myself entirely at your disposal.

Sincer ely and with gratitude,

Remus J. Lupin

Harry smiled as a knot in his chest loosened a little. Ginny looked at him curiously, so he handed her the letter. She gave a slightly embarrassed smile, but took it delicately from his hand. Her grin widened as she read it, but she sniffed loudly as she handed it back to him. She blushed and quickly rubbed at her eyes. “That’s really nice, Harry!” she said quickly as she brushed past him and ran up the stairs.

In the sitting room, Harry helped Ron and the twins get settled into their Occlumency exercises. He waited as they began to meditate and clear their minds, but Ginny did not come back down the stairs. Once he was sure the three boys were settled, Harry got up and quietly left the room.

Ginny’s door was closed, so he knocked lightly.

“Yes?” Ginny’s voice was clear, but a little subdued.

“May I come in?” he asked, trying to ignore his own nervousness. He was rubbish at all this touchy-feely business. So why was he doing this to himself? His conscience reminded him of a girl who waited five years for him to notice her and he stopped complaining.

“Um, sure Harry,” she replied, a little unevenly.

He opened the door and stepped inside, leaving it open behind him. Ginny was curled up at the head of her bed, looking somewhat miserable. She wasn’t crying, but her eyes were still red.

“Ron and the twins are working on their Occlumency,” he said slowly. He remained standing, but leaned his elbow on her dresser. “I’m not sure you’re in any state to meditate, but I’d like to know what’s bothering you.”

“I, er, it’s nothing,” she said. “I’m just being stupid.”

“I rather doubt that,” Harry said seriously. “But something bothered you at Neville’s, didn’t it?”

Ginny’s head snapped up and she momentarily got a trapped expression on her face. Harry just looked at her steadily, a faint smile on his face, but didn’t push her at all. He just waited. Finally, Ginny sighed and shook her head. “You’re impossible sometimes, you know that don’t you?”

Harry smiled ruefully. “Well, I’m glad you put up with me then.”

She actually smiled at that. It was small and fleeting, but genuine. “All right. I just never realized how close the four of you had gotten while you were at Hogwarts. Seeing you together today, it was hard. You practically completed each others’ sentences like the twins. I felt a little envious… and, and excluded. Like a fifth wheel on a cart. But I didn’t want to say anything and spoil it for anyone.”

Harry felt a bit like he’d been punched in the stomach. Ginny was talking like she sometimes wrote to him in letters… an older, more direct Ginny. This was the Ginny who’d always felt a little excluded by her brothers, even as she had no doubt of their love for her. The littlest. The youngest. The one left behind.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I think we were all so happy to see each other that we were a bit thoughtless.” He raised his hand as she started to object to his words. “Hear me out. It never has been, and never will be my intention to exclude you from anything. I firmly believe Hermione and Neville will be as much your friends as mine when you get to know them. Ron’s known you longer than he’s known me, Hermione, or Neville. I’ve known you longer, technically, than I’ve known anyone else at Hogwarts besides Hagrid. You’re one of my best friends in the world.”

She blinked, and her face had gone pink again. “D-do you really mean that, Harry?”

“Absolutely. And the next time you start feeling left out, I want you to say something to me. I won’t think you’re just a tag-along.”

“Thank you,” she whispered.

Harry frowned. “You look a bit tired, and I’m not sure you’re in a mood to meditate. You want to turn in early?”

“I think I’ll get some sleep. It’s been a tiring day.”

Harry smiled and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him. He turned and found Molly Weasley standing on the landing, looking at him. He was extremely glad he’d left Ginny’s door open, even if it did mean her mother heard every word of their conversation. The Weasley matriarch didn’t say a word. She just patted Harry on the arm as she resumed her march up the stairs with an armful of fresh linens.

Harry felt a little jittery as he went down the stairs to test Ron and the twins’ progress.

++++++++++

Insert stock beta comment — Disclaimer is in chapter one.

Space for mundane author muttering — Well, I’m finally getting into Chamber of Secrets territory for real now. Hope you enjoyed taking a look through Ginny’s eyes as well.

If you have questions or issues with the plot you’d like to debate (is Harry too vindictive with the Dursleys, or too hard on Dumbledore? Etc…) outside the reviews, please visit my yahoo group, Viridian Dreams. Link is in my profile.