Rating: PG
Spoilers: Through
Goblet
Classification:
Post-Hogwarts H/G
Summary: Ginny
Weasley has tried for years to bring to an end to her feelings for Harry
Potter… she's even uprooted her life… but what happens when it's time to come
face to face with him again? A post-Hogwarts tale revolving around Ginny's
discovery of herself…while coming to terms with her feelings for Harry.…
Disclaimer: This
story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic
Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no
copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: This chapter has been in-progress for two months. It would have been up two weeks ago, but
every night for the past two weeks of my life consisted of watching the Chicago
Cubs race to the World Series and having near heart failures game after
game. In the end, they didn't make it as
many of you know. But they put up a damn good fight. So, here's to next year
for our Cubbies and here's to getting chapter six out in a timelier manner.
A/N: This chapter has been revised as of November 2005
Chapter Five
It was a difficult task just to walk in the crowded
café on Sunday afternoon, much less work, but somehow Ginny was managing to do
it. She wound her way through the hordes of people waiting to be seated at the
entrance, sure that she would step on a foot or smash into a body, and
wondering whether or not she would actually have the energy to apologize.
It was hot. Aurelie's blonde hair was sticking
to her cheeks and Christian, with a very flushed face, looked as though someone
had cast a Speeding Charm on him as he ladeled drinks into glasses, stirred
bubbly cauldrons and shot goblets across the bar, all with several well-timed
charms. The unbearably hot weather was causing the residents of magical Paris
to either close themselves up in their houses with double-energized indoor
climate charms or, it seemed ironically, come to Le Papillon where the
temperature was a touch cooler than that of the wood burning oven inside the
kitchen.
Le Papillon's stucture was old, built in the late 12th
century, and did not handle indoor-climate charms very well… especially when
its walls were vibrating from the amount of people it currently held, which was
why Ginny couldn't understand their motives. She could only wish to be locked up in her flat with
magical climate instead of squashed against dozens of people in this boiling
curse of a place. Still the customers piled in, rushing first to the bar to
order one of Christian's frosty drinks, then waiting to be seated where they
would dawdle at their tables for hours and order refill after refill. It
was enough to drive anyone mad and Ginny had dealt with the same thing the
previous night, which had caused her to stay late, which had prevented her from
finishing her heaps and heaps of homework, all due tomorrow. Today was
the day that she'd made plans to show Harry around magical Paris and there
really was no way that she could do that unless they were to spend the evening
doing the rest of her homework, Ginny was now plagued with guilt about
canceling on him.
She could only imagine how extremely appalled her
mother would be if she knew what little effort she'd made in spending time with
Harry while he was here. It was a small comfort that these circumstances were
out of her control, but Ginny was sure that her mother wouldn't see things her
way.
During her shift, Ginny was able to take a short break
and rush over to the post office, which was just across the street from the
café. She sent an apology to Harry for having to cancel their arrangement
and inquired if they could reschedule at all, then grabbed a local owl and sent
Brian a quick message to let him know that she would be home to study with him
tonight.
After seriously considering stopping in the Quidditch
shop and buying a broom so she didn’t have to walk, Ginny arrived home later on
that night. Brian was indeed home, but instead of sitting at the table doing
homework, he stood in front of the fireplace looking wild-eyed.
"Third bloody letter this week!" he
bellowed, turning to Ginny and holding up the crumpled piece of
parchment. "Can't the bloody witch take a BLOODY HINT?!"
Ginny dropped her handbag on a chair and let the
wonderfully cold air of the living room wash over her.
"What?"
Brian held up the crumpled piece of parchment and
looked at her with wide eyes, "I have a bloody stalker."
Ginny blinked the sweat from her eyes and tried to
think of a response, "Well, it was bound to
happen eventually, the way you carry on."
"I've never even been OUT WITH THIS WITCH!"
Ginny winced as he shouted, wondering how she'd
managed to find herself a flat mate who was a combination of all her brothers
put together. It was like living with Bill and his witches, Ron and his
Godforsaken loudness, Fred and George and their jokes… all rolled into one
person. Only Charlie's persona seemed absent from Brian's character, but that
was probably because Charlie had shocked everyone with his normalcy in recent
years by getting married and having a family.
After reveling in the cool living room a few moments
more, Ginny went off to shower, leaving Brian in front of the fireplace,
mouthing soundlessly at the letter.
It was after her wonderfully refreshing shower, she'd
finally curled up in her armchair with a Gobbledygook novel, when there was a
sudden whoosh at the window meaning
post. Ginny was in the middle of trying to translate a very difficult paragraph
in her head, so she didn’t look up until she felt a flutter on her cheek and
saw a flash of pure white from the corner of her eye. She lowered the
book at once.
"Hello," she said softly, then smiled as the
snowy owl landed gently on her shoulder and ducked her head to peck at Ginny's
ear. "You remember me, do you? Well, you're just as lovely as I remember
you… yes, you certainly are."
She took a few seconds to stroke Hedwig's soft
feathers before taking the piece of parchment from her. Harry had written in
response to Ginny's letter that afternoon, telling her that he would be free on
Tuesday morning as she had inquired. Ginny took a bit of parchment and scrawled
a time and place where they could meet. She'd just watched Hedwig sail out the
window with her response when the bathroom door opened and Brian came out.
"Who were you talking to?" he asked her as
he took his seat on the sofa.
"I had a letter."
"You often speak to your post?" he asked
mildly, picking up his book.
Ginny grinned and returned to her book.
~*~
The horrible temperatures continued into Monday and
any hopes that it would change by the next day were quickly squashed when Ginny
woke up on Tuesday and went over to the window. She poked her head out and
gazed down, feeling a rush of hot air assault her. The congested streets
looked slower—people seemed to travel at a stroll instead of the brusque walk
most took to work and many more were on brooms.
It was very lucky that she'd agreed to meet Harry near
the ice cream seller from the other night because it was legal Apparition from
her flat and the minute Ginny materialized there, she was so taken aback that
she had to pause for a second. It was like being inside a boiler and it
was only nine am. The temperatures were bound to increase even more as the day
progressed.
To her surprise, Harry was already waiting for her,
sitting on a bench and looking so typically Harry as he checked his watch and
looked around.
It had been so long since she'd had the chance to look
at Harry… really look, without him knowing. It was weak of her, she knew, but
something forced her to stand quite still and she chewed on her lip as she
studied the boy she used to know so well.
He was so very much the same. He could still sit
on a bench, with people all around and encompass that same Harry-isolation that
could occur when he was anywhere… like a busy corner in Paris with people
walking along, zooming past on broomsticks, even stopping to cast a look over
their shoulders to see if their eyes were playing tricks or if it really was Harry Potter sitting on a bench in
Lacasse, Paris.
But there was something different. Something she
couldn’t quite put her finger on. Perhaps she was just not used to seeing this
older version of Harry.
Harry chose that moment to look up and his eyes fell
directly on Ginny. Her cheeks grew warm and she felt that familiar, naughty,
embarrassed, damn, he caught me feeling
and found herself grinning at it almost fondly. Shaking her head at
herself, she gave him a small wave and went over.
"Something funny?" Harry
asked looking amused as she approached with a smile playing on her lips.
Ginny shook her head, letting out a much-needed
laugh. "I think I'm just delirious from this heat," she said,
throwing back her head and pretending to sob. "Harry, it's so hot!"
"It is, isn’t it?" Harry said, squinting in
the strong sunlight.
"Yes… it is," she said, "and I have
lovely work to look forward to this afternoon where climate charms won’t
work."
Harry looked surprised, "They won’t?"
She shook her head. "Place is too … bloody old. There's too much magic going on in the tiny little kitchen.
There's too many people packed into
the place. It's like… a nightmare. Honestly. You should be thankful the
Ministry is well-charmed. Tell me, are they looking for any waitressing
help?"
Harry grinned and was about to answer when a group of
young witches zoomed by on brooms all of which had paper fans attached to the
handles. He and Ginny looked after them for a moment before turning back
to each other and sharing a grin.
"I'm not certain about this Ministry," Harry
said, answering her question. "But at home, we'd love to have you—there's
never time to go out for lunch."
"Oooh, that's a great idea," she said.
"It can be my backup plan if I don’t find a job! I'm not the best waitress
in the world, but don’t worry, I won’t embarrass you in front of your co-workers."
"It's a deal, then. Is it usually this warm in
the summer?" Harry asked, wiping his brow.
Ginny sighed, peeling her long hair from the back of
her neck. "I've never actually experienced
temperatures this high before, but I don't think it's extremely rare. Happens
once in a while, just like everywhere." She paused and looked around for a
bit. "I suppose we shouldn't let it hinder us…?"
Still squinting, Harry gazed up and down the street,
contemplating. "No. No, I suppose we shouldn’t…" he trailed off,
looking none too excited about sightseeing.
Ginny looked at Harry and noticed small circles under
his eyes. He looked tired. "It's up to you, Harry," she said after a
moment. "Jacques the Jaunty's tomb is
outside and we would have to walk there…"
Harry bit his lip and turned back to Ginny. "Is
there anything we can do indoors?"
"Well… there's the Magical Creatures museum, they
have skeletons of all these ancient beasts, but…hang on, I
think they're closed for renovations."
"Anything in Muggle
Paris?"
"Oh—how about the
Louvre?"
Harry lifted a brow, brightened by this. "Can we
Apparate?"
Ginny laughed. "Harry, are you mad? We've been
trained to think Apparition is a very bad thing around here. No, once we're in Muggle Paris, we can Apparate to
wherever we need to go, but from here
we'd have to go to Lacasse's entrance
to Muggle Paris and—well, wait a second… I think that's even further than the
tomb. Let's see, perhaps that's legal Apparition after all."
She pulled her wand, pointed it to ground where she
was standing, and muttered the incantation that would give her the distance to
any certain place from that point. Then she said, "Entrance to Muggle
Paris." The distance in kilometers rose in blue smoke… the number was just
beneath the legal limits.
"Sorry… we'll have to walk anyway," she
said, looking at Harry sheepishly. "It really is up to you."
Harry blew out a breath and looked around again. He
stopped his scan of the buildings suddenly and pointed over her shoulder.
"What's that?"
Ginny twisted around to look. "That's a
restaurant. I've never been there, I dunno if there's anything really
interesting about it…"
"Well… do you think it might be cool
inside?" he asked after a few seconds.
"I have no idea," she said on a laugh.
"Do you want to … go in there for coffee or something?"
"That's… fine with me. I haven’t had
breakfast," he said, wiping the sweat from his brow and glancing at Ginny
for the final decision.
"Breakfast it is. Come on."
They walked slowly down the row shops to the little
café called Massa, and when they stepped inside, a wonderful rush of cold air
assaulted them. Ginny and Harry exchanged looks of approval.
In terms of décor, Massa was the direct opposite of
Ginny's café. It was very bright, with orange and golden tones in the
walls and floor tiles, the windows were colorful glass blocks, the tables were
small and square, their tops made of colorful pieces
of glass under a smooth coating. It was adorable and cozy, but unlike Le
Papillon, the place was gleaming and new … and lacking any sort of historic
ambience at all. It was missing the very thing Ginny most loved about her café.
"This place is … different," Harry commented
after the waitress had taken their breakfast order. "The café you work in,
does it look like this?"
"No, not at all. The
building is much older and it's not so… bright. It has a sort of…charm
that I suppose is difficult to find in newer buildings like this." Then
she grinned, "But it's not so cool on hot days, so who cares about
charm?"
Harry smirked. "Has business been slow because of
the heat?"
She shook her head. "We're busy as ever. It's because
our bartender makes these really delicious cold drinks that are quite famous all across town. It's awful though. I
can’t wait for it to get back to normal."
At that moment, their waitress approached with their breakfast: a basket of bread, a
dish each of butter and jam, chocolate spread, a glass container of pumpkin
juice and coffee. As she placed each item on the table, Harry eyed the
basket of bread with an ironic lift of his brow.
"Haven't the French ever heard of bacon?" he
asked rather disdainfully after the waitress had left.
Ginny, who had been preoccupied when the trendy
waitress had glanced at Harry almost three times in quick succession before
dragging herself away, looked at Harry in confusion before breaking into an
understanding grin. "Tired of bread are you?"
Harry nodded, evidently more interested in scowling at
the food than the gaping waitress. "I'm beginning to miss your mum's
breakfast."
"Oh, I know.
Goodness, mum's breakfast… I haven’t had it in… over a year now! Honestly,
Harry, shame on you for bringing it up, you've only
gone—what, a few weeks without it?"
He smirked and took a croissant.
"So, anyway, excluding the breakfast, do you like
France at all?" Ginny asked him conversationally once she'd taken her own
croissant. Then she pointed to the bread he was about to lift to his mouth.
"Just close your eyes and pretend there's bacon in it."
Harry took a bite and shook his head while he
chewed. "Not working."
She shrugged. "I tried. Anyway,
Paris? What do you think so far?"
"It's all right, I suppose. I haven’t seen much
of it."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I know. I'm doing my best to amend that, but really, Mum will kill me
if she finds out that I haven't given you a proper tour already."
"She'll never know," he said, waving his
hand.
"Oh, you'll be surprised. So, anyway, Mum's
breakfast. Last time I was home, I slept right through breakfast on all three
mornings, including Christmas Day, and I didn’t forgive myself for weeks after
I got back here."
"You were home for Christmas?" Harry asked,
looking surprised. "When?"
"Yeah." She
pulled the coffee towards her and poured a cup. "I went home the Christmas
before last."
Harry looked confused. "Did I… was I
there…?"
Ginny took a sip. "You were on assignment
somewhere, I think."
"That's right," he said at last.
"Africa."
She smiled sympathetically. "Sounds very exotic,
Harry, but… Christmas in the desert? That had to be …
dreadful."
He shook his head. "Christmas
in the rain forest. Nigeria."
"Do you often get sent away during holidays, then?"
He lifted a shoulder again. "It happens. Was that
the only time you've visited home?"
"No… actually I've been back a few times. We just
kept missing each other, I suppose. You were always on assignments, always away
somewhere exotic and beautiful."
"Probably not exotic and beautiful," he
added.
Ginny tsked. "Yeah, right.
So where've you been? Tell me about the exotic places you've seen."
Harry made a face. "Er…I don’t really get to see
much when I'm on assignment, it's always just a lot of
work."
Ginny waited for him to add something, but he didn't.
"Oh," she said at last, trying not to be disappointed that he didn’t
seem eager to discuss his travels. She knew it was all probably top
secret and everything, but that only sparked her interest further.
"Will you be happy to finally go home,
then?" Harry asked after another sip of coffee. "Er—" he looked
up at her, eyes narrowed. "Did I ask you that already?"
"Mmm… yes, actually, I think you asked me the
other night after the interview."
"Right.
Sorry."
She waved her hand. "Don't worry about it. I'm so
used to people asking me that all the time, I've actually memorized the answer
by now."
He lifted a brow. "Really?"
"Yes." She lifted her chin and recited,
"I'm happy to be going back, but I'll be very sad when I have to say
goodbye. It's become my home here."
Harry nodded thoughtfully, smiling and buttering his
bread. "I think you did say something like that."
"Sometimes I change a word here and there."
A smile played on his lips as he sipped his coffee,
looking like he was deciding whether or not to say what was on his mind. Then,
as if he'd come to a decision, his face relaxed into an easy smile and placed
his cup back down. "It's a bit like people wanting to know all about
the exotic places I've seen."
She started to laugh. "Ugh…well, at least I
was polite and answered you properly," she retorted, tossing a
piece of bread towards him.
He grinned. "So…magical Paris—it's really quite a
big city, isn't it?"
"Lacasse is big," Ginny agreed,
nodding. "Doesn't compare to the size of all the other
arrondisments, though, but…."
Harry's brow furrowed as he poured another cup. "All the other… what?"
"Arrondisments," she said, pulling a off a
piece of croissant. "They're like towns, or small cities. Paris is
made up of twenty-one arrondisments, although if you said that to the average
Muggle, they'll tell you you're mad and that there are only twenty of
them. However, Lacasse is the twenty-first, only visible to the average
witch or wizard," she added with a grin. "Anyway, I can’t believe I'm
giving you a lesson on magical towns when you've been all over the world."
"I've not been all over the world," he
corrected. "Just… a few places."
"A few exotic places," she corrected.
Harry groaned. "They're not exotic when you're
working."
"I know, I know." She took a sip of coffee,
glad for the relaxed tone of this breakfast in comparision to the first half of
the interview the other night.
"I would love to travel all the time," she
said a few minutes later, after she and Harry continued to eat their breakfast
in comfortable silence, "Even if it's for work."
"Even with a group of aurors all over the age of
one hundred?"
She waved that matter aside. "I can make friends
with anyone."
Harry nodded, looking quite amused all of a sudden.
"What? Why are you smiling?"
He cleared his throat, setting down his cup.
"Just thinking how true that is—about you making friends with
anyone." Ginny looked at him, confused for a second until he grinned
at her. "Luna Lovegood."
Ginny suddenly became quite stern. "Don't get
started on Luna, I'll have you know that her magazine sells almost two times
the copies Witch Weekly does, according to the statistics in the Prophet. She
has a huge following, the public finds her a
riot."
"Alright, I was just kidding!" he exclaimed,
looking put in his place like he and Ron always did when Ginny would yell at
them for making fun of Luna. "I like Luna!"
"Have you seen her lately?" Ginny asked,
interested to know how Luna was doing and when Harry shook his head, she
continued, "We wrote to each other a few times while I was here, but it's
been awhile." She sighed. There were so many people she hadn't kept in
touch with over the years. "How is Neville?"
"He's about to become a healer."
"I know!"
Ginny exclaimed. "I forgot who told me that. Have you seen him
recently?"
"A while ago. So, what
about you? Have you ever run into anyone here?"
"Just you," she chuckled. "I've
had lots of visitors from the family, of course. Mum, Dad, Charlie and his
family, Bill. I've begged Ron for years to come and he never did. The
twins were always too busy, although I don’t see how they couldn't just leave
the shops to someone else while they took a holiday to see their little
sister. And now it's too late, I'm coming home in a few months.
Although Sarah is supposed to visit after term ends to travel round
France."
"Sarah Murphy," Harry nodded thoughtfully.
"Right, she was normal."
"All of
my friends are normal." Then she thought of Brian and his stalker. "Well, most of them anyway. Besides, lets
not judge each other because of our friends—you do call my brother your
best."
Harry grinned and polished off his croissant.
They sat in the trendy little café for almost two
hours after that and when Ginny looked at her watch, she was startled to see
that her shift began in only twenty minutes. She couldn’t believe she'd
lost track of time, but it was nice, sitting with Harry and talking about old
times. It made the people in those memories become familiar to her again,
almost as though she was seeing them herself after all this time.
After Ginny bade Harry goodbye with the promise to owl
shortly about sightseeing, she couldn’t help but feel a twinge of
accomplishment as she walked to work.
The café was still quite the madhouse, but not due to
people seeking cool drinks from the heat. It seemed as though Lacasse was
finally tired of the hot weather, and during the first hour of Ginny's shift,
just as she was serving a tray of frosty drinks to a table outside, the sky
opened up, sending rain pouring down in sheets. And one hour after that, as though by magic, the downpour
slowed and cleared, leaving a picturesque sky and temperatures as fresh and cool as a typical summer night.
Ginny, Christian and Aurelie exchanged almost gleeful
looks at this news.
"Perhaps people will want to spend the evening
outside then," Aurelie said hopefully, and no sooner had the words left
her mouth than a wave of customers rushed in, all looking as though they had
been freed from some prison.
"We haven’t left the house for three days because
of the heat!" exclaimed a frantic looking woman in such rapid French that
Ginny almost didn’t catch what she was saying. "We'd like to sit at a
table outside, please!"
"So would we!" chimed a different couple.
The two waitresses and the bartender exchanged another
look, but this one had no signs of glee whatsoever.
However, as they worked through the afternoon and into
early evening, things weren't as bad as they could have been. It was busy and
it was hectic, but the work was so much easier now that it had cooled down.
Most of the occupied tables were outside and it had turned into such a lovely
evening that every time Ginny set foot on the cobblestone patio to handle
another order, her mood brightened. The sunset was one of the most
colorful ones she'd ever seen; the entire sky lit up with pinks and oranges and
dark purples all swirling into each other like the surface of a potion brewing
in a steaming cauldron.
The customers' high spirits rubbed off on the staff.
Every time Ginny and Aurelie passed each other serving their tables, they
laughed at some joke or whispered about a particular customer and Christian
could be seen talking amiably with the customers at the bar.
A group of very good-looking wizards about Ginny's age
sat at a table that was between the end of Ginny's station and the beginning of
Aurelie's. Though normally, the two fought over which would be stuck serving
that table, it was an entirely different matter this time around. Over the
heavy chatter of dozens of diners, Ginny's brown eyes met Aurelie's hazel ones
and the challenge was issued. Whoever made it there first would clearly win the
opportunity to serve the eye-catching group.
"No Speeding Charms," Ginny warned Aurelie
as the tall, blonde waitress banished a drink order to Christian with such
speed that the piece of parchment slapped him in the face. When one of the men
from the table in pursuit flashed a grin at Ginny, she rushed her tray to her
other customers, blushing foolishly and almost spilling soup onto someone's
lap.
But alas, it was Aurelie who made it first in the end
and pouting, Ginny slumped onto a barstool inside.
"Wait… could it be… is everyone served?"
Christian asked mildly as he sent a Guinness down the bar.
"Yeah, my table for ten is happily eating their
bouillabaisse."
"Aurelie?"
Ginny sighed. "She's still… working."
A very high, feminine laugh issued from outside and
Ginny grunted. "That's her. Working."
The bells chimed for the hundredth time, causing Ginny
to draw in her breath and prepare for another group of ten—then she sighed in
relief as she recognized the woman who entered.
"Ginev-ra?"
sang a high, earsplitting voice. "Is that you over there?"
"Yes, it's me, how are you Genevieve?" Ginny
called out as the brightly dressed regular descended on the bar, glittering
shawl flowing behind her.
"I have photographs from my granddaughter's
honeymoon in Greece! Aurelie told me to bring them in—where is that girl?"
"She's outside. Is your granddaughter back
already?"
"Of course she is! It's been two weeks."
"Ugh, time has been flying lately."
"That is has, Ginevra," she said, peering at
Ginny through her rhinestone-rimmed glasses that magnified her heavily
lashed-eyes. "You have a minute to look, then? Greece is
magnificent."
"In a moment Genevieve, just let me seat these
customers." For another couple had just walked in.
"Okay, you go on, then. Aure-lie! Come here and look at these photographs!"
Ginny lead the couple outside, passing Aurelie who was
carrying her table's order. Ginny grinned at her. "Genevieve's
waiting."
"I heard," she grumbled.
"She's coming Genevieve!" Ginny called back.
Then to Aurelie, "You'd better hurry, before she gets loud."
"Too late," she laughed.
After seating the couple and taking their drink order,
Ginny went back and peered over Aurelie's shoulder at the photos.
"Those beaches are beautiful," she whispered
in awe. "Why can’t Paris have beaches?"
"You have to go south for that," Genevieve
said matter-of-factly. "Jean and I went to the Mediterranean for our
twenty-fifth anniversary. Nice, Cannes. We went to all the islands on the
Mediterranean. They were spectacular. You girls should have a holiday down
there! All those fine-looking young men with muscular
chests."
Aurelie and Ginny exchanged wide-eyed, mirthful
looks. Ginny had the sudden mental picture of Genevieve harassing the men
on the beach – in her long, beaded dresses and feathered hats.
"Is this real, Genevieve?" Aurelie asked,
lifting up Genevieve's shimmering green bag.
"Why, of course it is! That's the hide of a
Common-Welsh Green. My other granddaughter Cécile bought that for my birthday a
few years back! Speaking of Cécile, Christian," she said, snatching the
bag out of Aurelie's hands. "She has just had her heart broken by her
beau. "
"Oh, I'm sorry," Christian said, his eyes
becoming amused as he filled a goblet with Genevieve's usual red wine.
"Sorry! Don’t be sorry! Her own fault if you ask
me. He's an auror for the love of
Merlin! She should have known
better."
Ginny choked on her water.
"But that gives you sufficient opportunity!" Genevieve said, slapping Ginny on
her back. "I am going to tell her to come in here tomorrow."
"She's lovely, I'm sure," Christian said.
"Have a glass, Genevieve."
"They are so much in love," Aurelie
sighed. She was gazing at a photograph, her chin propped in her hand.
"They're not kissing or anything, they're just posing, but you can
tell. You can just tell, can’t you?" she asked, shoving the shot in
Ginny's face.
Ginny peered at the rather handsome couple who were on
the beach waving at the camera arm in arm; the waves of the sea foamed and
crashed at their feet. "They look beautiful together."
"He's so handsome,"
Aurelie roared suddenly, peering closely at the photo. "Where did she find
him, Genevieve?"
Genevieve launched into one of her usual hour-long
stories and by the time she was finished, the sun had set completely and the
tables outside twinkled with soft pixie lights, which fluttered in the trellis
and bushes surrounding the patio.
"Turned out to be a lovely evening, didn't
it?" smiled a lady, as Ginny set her drink on the outdoor table.
Ginny smiled. "Yes, it did. Did you need to
see menus?"
"Oh, no," said the lady's companion, a burly
man with a dark mustache, lifting the drink Ginny had just served him.
"This is just what the healer conjured." They all laughed and Ginny
told them to signal if they needed anything else. Her smile was still on
her face when she caught the eye of the man at Aurelie's table—the one who had
grinned at her earlier. However, after a very brief look, his attention was
reluctantly turned toward his friend who had asked him something.
Blushing yet again and smiling a bit stupidly, Ginny
walked back into the café only to have her arm grabbed roughly as she passed
the bar.
"There you are, I need
help."
"What is it?" Ginny asked in surprise as
Brian, a huge roll of parchment under his arm, jumped off the stool he'd been
sitting on and steered her away. "When did you get here?"
"You have to help me with this,
I can't do it on my own. Bloody Mermish—" he swore so obscenely that
a British couple seated nearby gasped and twisted around in their chairs.
"Would you kindly not use that language in my
place of business?" Ginny asked him.
He snorted. "Place of business."
Ginny watched him with growing irritation. "Did
you say you needed my help with something? Because I don't know that laughing
at me is the way to go about asking."
"Sorry, look, it's that dialog thing for Mermish
Composition. You finished that already, didn't you? I need you to tell me
exactly what you wrote—"
"Hang on, I'm off in two hours, I can help you at
home—"
"Has to be now love, I have way too much work to
wait. Can't you take a small break—ten minutes?"
Ginny sighed. "I suppose. Here, let's sit at
a table."
Ten minutes turned into thirty and thirty turned into
her entire dinner hour, which consisted of a frustrated Brian and no dinner.
Ginny had no qualms about helping Brian with his homework since he always did
the same for her, however, every time she helped him, she found it extremely
difficult not to scream her head off when he disagreed with every single
suggestion she gave him.
"I can't do that," he said, irritably, as
thought she'd been stupid for even suggesting such a thing. "If I did
that, then I would have to change all
of this, and then that would make
this entire section obsolete. Because
look…" As if to make her understand better, Brian slid his chair closer to
her as he explained and Ginny tried to listen, but she suddenly became
distracted at a very strong presence to the left and her eyes darted there out
of instinct.
It was the wizard from Aurelie's table; only he was
standing at the doorway, leaning through and looking directly at Ginny. His
friends were gathered further back, obviously finished with their meal and
waiting for him. Ginny watched his eyes flick to Brian and the arm that was
slung casually across the back of Ginny's chair.
As if in slow motion, his handsome smile turned
regretful; he lifted his hand in a gesture of defeat and made to leave. Ginny
wanted to either shout across the room for him to WAIT or push Brian off the chair—anything to make it known that he
was clearly mistaken.
"…And then I can put that up there—are you even
listening to me?"
"What?" She turned to stare at Brian dimly.
Then she chanced a glance back at the door. Gone.
"Ginny?"
"Of course I'm paying attention," she
snapped finally. "I don’t agree with anything you've just said."
It was Brian's turn to stare at her. "Well,
why NOT?"
"I told you."
And, mourning the lost opportunity, she went on to explain.
"Will you two stop the fighting," Aurelie
said, leaning over and resting her arms on Brian's shoulders. "It's time
for celebration. Aurelie has just made a date."
"Don't tell me. One of the blokes from the table
outside?" asked Ginny.
"No—they were all a bit too eager. It's the
one over there, see him?"
They all turned to look.
"Looks like his taste is a bit mature,
love," Brian said to Aurelie.
"That's his mother
with him. Isn't that sweet? He's taken her out to dinner for her
birthday."
"Sweet," Ginny and Brian echoed.
"So—are you all set with this, then?" Ginny
asked Brian a few minutes later when Aurelie had gone off to take another table
and Ginny had finished explaining everything.
"Yeah," he sighed. "I can’t wait
until all of this—" he swore again—"gets finished and we never have
to worry about homework again."
"I know," Ginny said, though she was
assaulted with a little nervous flutter.
"Bloody buggering
hell!" Brian exclaimed and Ginny blew out an annoyed
breath.
"Will you stop—"
"Sorry. I'm late." He winked at Ginny.
“Dominique doesn't like to be kept waiting."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I can only imagine. Glad
I could be of help," she said sarcastically, then stopped. "Hang on—I
thought you had all sorts of work to do at home!"
"I do. After Dominique."
Ginny mouthed soundlessly. "So in other words,
rather than have me help you when I got home, you forced me to take an hour out
of my work just so you could go on a date? BRIAN MCGUIRE, YOU—"
"No foul language in your place of business,
love. Have to run, thanks!"
Ginny was left fuming and trying to figure out a way
to ruin his date since he had most certainly ruined her chance of having one.
The evening passed rather quickly after that as the
after-dinner crowed rushed in and by the time the last customers had finished
dawdling, Ginny rushed to lock the doors. Aurelie left soon after that
for her date, with Ginny assuring her that she and Christian could handle the
cleanup and by the time they finished, it was nearing midnight and Ginny felt
more energized rather than tired. They stepped out into the absolutely perfect
evening and Christian nudged her arm.
"Walk to my place with me so you can Apparate
home."
Ginny heaved a sigh—she often walked home with Christian
at night because he didn't like her walking home alone and his flat was legal
Apparition to hers.
"Actually, I think I'll go to the bridge—catch up
on some owls."
He nodded. "Whom are you writing to
tonight?"
Ginny smiled as they walked leisurely down Le
Papillion's walkway, which led to the street's path. "Too
many to list. I've been skiving off lately."
"Well, it's a nice night for it."
"Yeah," she sighed. "How
about you? What will you do when you get in?"
Christian shoved his hands in his pockets.
"Probably sleep." He sent her a sideways smile. "Double
shift tomorrow—have to be there to open for breakfast."
Ginny nodded, her smile becoming pensive. There was
always something so lonely about Christian. He had no family and no
friends that Ginny knew of and he spent so much of his time working. It was
almost as though Le Papillon was the main focus of his life—in both work and
social aspects. While Ginny would never think less of him for it, and
although Christian always seemed perfectly content with his life, she couldn’t
help feeling sorry for him just a little.
They chatted a bit before saying goodnight and soon
after that, Ginny found herself curling up on the floor of her bridge and
listening to the splashes of the water below. After seeing Christian walk off
alone, knowing that he was he was going to an empty apartment only to wake up
and do the same thing again tomorrow, Ginny couldn’t help but feel grateful and
more than a little guilty when she counted the number of letters she would have
to write tonight.
Ginny always saved her mum for last when she wrote to
everyone in succession because she was the easiest. After answering all of her
mum's questions from the last owl, Ginny found herself going on a bit in her
letter. She wasn't the least bit tired and the weather was perfect as she
listened to the water splash beneath her. She detailed her day and week
and went into how she'd run into Harry at the Ministry, how he'd saved her
interview and how they'd come to sit for hours in some café this morning.
Because their conversation at breakfast had steered towards Ginny's old
friends, she found herself thinking more about leaving Paris and going home. It
was a reality now that she had her interview and while some parts of her were
so excited, there was the other side that was just plain scared to leave.
It's good
to see Harry, Mum. It really is. I find myself thinking about all the
other people that I've "forgotten" while I've been here. Not
that I've truly forgotten anyone, it's just when you don’t hear their names, I
suppose it's easy to sort of forget that they're a part of your life.
Harry
does seem different, and I don’t know why that's surprising to me. I
suppose I thought that I would be the only one to change in all this time and I
would come home to surprise everyone. Now I wonder what it will be like
when I do get home. Will everyone be different? Will I feel out of
place? Because to me, I haven't changed at all, but I know everyone else
thinks I have. Or perhaps that's the other way around. It makes coming home
seem even more foreign a thing.
Ginny stopped and reread the last paragraph of her
letter and thought of how much it sounded like something she might write in a
journal. It made her remember another letter she'd written to her mother—just
about four years ago at the end of her first year in Paris. Her heart had been
light as she'd sat on the bridge and wrote paragraph after paragraph. Ginny
absently leaned her head back against the stone wall and let her eyes wander
over the dark sky as the past floated around in her head.
I've
found a flat mate, Mum. Now I don’t want you to overreact, because this person
has been a great friend to me all year. His name is Brian McGuire.
The very thought of it made her laugh out loud.
But then her smile faded when she thought about the
rest of that old letter. It had started with her trying to explain just
why Brian McGuire would be a good flat mate and had ended with her heart
positively tumbling out of her chest and onto the page. She'd written so
much that she'd had to cover both sides of the long roll of parchment, so much
that her hand had cramped and her ink had almost run out. In trying to
defend Brian to her mother, she'd admitted that he had probably saved her from
quitting university and going back to England… that in being her friend, Brian
had made her laugh for the first time since she'd arrived.
After a long time, she'd finally stopped writing and
while reading the letter, she wondered why she didn’t just quit the façade and
go home if it was that painful. But the letter itself was her answer—it
helped her more than she could say and in the end, when her heartache had
finally passed into a quiet sort of peace, she'd tacked a few extra sentences
onto the end.
I'm sorry
about going on like this, Mum. I'm not miserable, despite how this may
sound. I'm happy now, I'm learning to love it here and I'm going to love
getting a job and having my own place. I feel so good right now, though. Like I don’t need to feel these things anymore since I've written
them down. It helped to write them down.
She'd paused there.
It's
ironic, isn’t it, but I really am the type of girl to keep a diary.
Ginny remembered having waited for her mother's
response to that letter and every time the post had arrived, she would swear it
was going to be a Howler. ("WHAT DO
YOU MEAN YOU'RE LIVING WITH A MAN?!") But it hadn’t been any such
thing. It had, actually, been the shortest letter her mum had ever written to
her.
Ginny,
For as
long as you need me, I can be your diary.
Mum
Even now, thinking of that letter made her feel such a
strong ache for her mother and it was only consoled by the fact that she would
see her very soon….
***
Brian was sitting on the armchair in the living room
when Ginny stepped into the flat later that night. He glanced briefly over his
shoulder before turning back to his book and Ginny went over to Maurice to
attach the letters to his leg.
"Take them to Mum, all right?" she
instructed her bird. "She'll distribute them properly."
Maurice squawked in agreement and with a swish of wings, flew out the
window. Ginny watched him disappear into the night, then
turned to Brian. "You're home early."
"Mmm," Brian muttered, his eyes never
leaving the pages of the book. She might have started a fight then about his
forcing her to waste her dinner break on him earlier, but she wasn't in the
mood.
"You've finished your Mermish, then. Did it go
alright?"
His answer was delayed, as he was seemingly unable to
tear his eyes from the book. "Yeah. It was
fine, thanks for that."
Ginny nodded. "What are you reading?"
Brian made an absentminded noise in the back of his
throat. "Er… one of your Muggle novels…."
"Oh, which one?" Ginny
asked curiously. It was a pastime of hers, reading Muggle literature. She
found it fascinating, and her father had always made sure she was never without
Muggle books as a child.
"Author is… Harper Lee?" he muttered,
showing her the cover.
Ginny bent over the back of his chair, settling her
arms over the top and peering at the pages over his shoulder. "I haven’t
read that one yet. Good?"
"Very."
"What's it about?"