Rating: PG-13
Spoilers: Through Goblet
Classification: Post-Hogwarts, H/G, Post-HBP AU
Summary: For years, Ginny Weasley has tried 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: Thank
you for waiting so long for this update. To quote Brian in this chapter:
"It's about to get good." So hopefully you won’t give up on me.
:D
A/N: This fic has
been revised as of December 2005.
Chapter Six
There were many streets weaving through the Parisian village of Lacasse.
Some twisted and twirled into circles, some went over, under, or right through
landmarks, some did all three. Most however,
met at one central place:
The great thing about Pier Benoit, named after the warlock who conjured
it in 1609, was that it gave residents and tourists the opportunity to locate
Merpeople's rock, an island located so far from shore that Merpeople often
surfaced and lounged around it. Tourists had once flocked to Pier Benoit
just to stand at the edge and peer towards the rock, waiting for the tiniest
bit of movement or flash of green. Since the evolution of magical technology,
however, new tools had been created to aid in viewing the rock and it was no
longer necessary to wait in a long queue only to stand at the farthest point of
the pier and squint out to sea.
All along the shore, there were stands that sold or hired out a thing
called Spectaculars. These goggle-like glasses allowed people to position
themselves anywhere on the Pier and view Merpeople's rock with stunning
accuracy. Much of Lacasse's population owned several pairs of Spectaculars to
save on hiring fees and avoid missing out on the biggest Merpeople parties
should the hire period run out…and also to aid them in other things. Like
spying on their neighbors. Spectaculars were everything the residents of
Lacasse needed: a cheap solution to the need for gossip, an evening of
entertainment at the pier and a gold-making tourist trap.
Or, if you were Harry Potter, they were merely insufficient imitations
of every visual-aid instrument located in his office at home.
"Are you sure you can't see anything?" Ginny asked him, as he
stood perfectly still, hands shoved into pockets and gazing out to sea through
a pair of Spectaculars. "Anything at all?" she pressed.
"Nothing. I should have brought my X-Eyes."
Ginny smiled. "Perhaps these are defective; I can trade them in for
another pair."
"I can see the rock okay, it's the Merpeople that seem to be
missing."
"Oh, Harry, they're not there all
the time," Ginny explained and propped herself up on the rail, hooking her
ankles around the bottom rungs. The water splashed against the rocks
below. "They're probably just… waiting or something."
"For what?"
"Well… perhaps the party doesn’t start for another hour," she
suggested, casting a glance over her shoulder at the open water.
Harry turned his head to look at Ginny, forgetting to take off the
Spectaculars and swaying on the spot. He pulled them off, straightened
his own glasses and grinned. "Too bad we'll be at the Eiffel Tower by
then."
"All right, fine, we'll
go. I just have to accept the fact that you don’t like this place. I loved it
when I first came here."
"I hate Merpeople."
"Yes, you've said," she commented dryly and hopped off the
railing.
"You would hate them too, if they'd threatened to kill you,"
he reasoned.
"I suppose."
It was early Friday evening and Ginny's night off from work. The weather
had remained quite perfect since the sudden drop in temperatures earlier that
week and after another downpour of rain, the evenings had actually been calling
for a light cloak which Ginny currently held slung over her arm. Despite
Harry's grumpiness toward Merpeople's rock, he seemed happy to be sightseeing
after what he'd called "a stupid and pointless day".
As they stepped onto Rue Robertseau, Ginny told him about several
landmarks they would pass on the way to Muggle Paris' entrance.
"This street will take us all the way there; it goes from one end
of the city to the other." She hesitated a bit before stopping and
pointing a thumb over her shoulder. "You can see l'Academie if you look
down the opposite way."
Harry stopped and turned to look down the long, curvy street where the
university's pale blue turrets and tall speared posts towered at the far edge
of the city. He turned to Ginny, dark brows lifted, eyes surprised.
"That's your university?"
The startled and rather impressed look on his face made her smile.
"Yeah… why do you look so surprised?"
"It's… bigger than I thought. From what I can see of it
anyway," he said, gazing down the street in fascination. "It
looks almost as big as Hogwarts."
"Oh, it's not," she said, shaking her head, although she felt
a little twinge of pride at Harry's unabashed appreciation. "The fact
that it's up on that hill and all the grounds surrounding it gives that
impression though."
"It looks really nice," Harry commented as they started
walking again.
"It is," Ginny said, smiling. "I love it. Anyway, back to
the tour. See where the street splits up there? Well, if we wanted
to go into Muggle Paris right now, we would stay on, but we're taking a detour
so we're going to go right onto Rue Legrand and following it all the way behind
Legrand Manor and into the cemetery."
"What's Legrand Manor?"
"It's where all the ghosts live," Ginny explained, standing on
tiptoe and trying to see the tops of the dark, massive castle in the opposite
direction of l'Academie. "I think the occupancy is up to eight
hundred and fourteen now… or is it nine hundred
and fourteen…? I can't remember. Anyway, they give tours and all that. Most of
the ghosts are very nice."
Harry smirked. "Made friends with any?"
"No," she grinned. "I'll have to add that to the list of
things that I want to try to do before I go home. It's starting to grow quite
long, actually."
"How many years have you been here again?"
"Hmm? Oh, five."
"You're not ready to go home, then?"
"Oh, but I am. I'm very ready to go back, I can’t wait. It's
just… there are things I wish I could have done while I'd been here… or done
more of, you know? I would have loved to travel round France more. I mean, I
did travel a bit, but the truth is, I didn't have much time for it. During my
time off, I always tried to either work more or spend the time going back to
England."
Harry looked confused. "Did you visit home a lot? I can't remember
seeing you at all."
Ginny shook her head. "No, I really didn't. I would plan to. If I
had a few days free from lessons, I would pack a bag and Apparate to the
station, but since it was always during holidays, the lines would be
outrageously long that I'd just… turn around and come back. I couldn’t risk not
being able to get back in time for my lessons or work."
Harry nodded. "It's even worse than it used to be, Apparating. The
waiting times for the public are horrendous."
"I know, I can’t believe
it's going to take me days to get back home. Are they talking about lifting the
laws yet? Anytime before July?" she added hopefully.
Harry smiled, but shook his head. "There are talks about lifting
the laws, but it's a terrible idea." At Ginny's incredulous look, Harry
continued, "Do you know how many travelers we've caught trying to smuggle
illegal items in?"
"Really? Still? Like
what?"
"Oh, all sorts of things. Dark potions…." Harry told her
several names, some of which Ginny recognized as ones Death Eaters had been
using in the war.
"They're still around, those? Who is brewing this stuff?"
"Who do you think?"
"Not…old Voldemort supporters?" she said incredulously.
Harry laughed sarcastically. "The war lasted only three years to
most people, but the Ministry will be dealing with the repercussions for much
longer."
Ginny shivered. Memories of those times came back all too clearly.
"Is it public knowledge, what goes on? Or is the Ministry still fond of
keeping everything cleverly concealed."
Harry shrugged. "They're not as bad as they sued to be, that's for
sure. Things like potion-smuggling never make the front-page headlines anymore.
I suppose people who really follow the news would know. But so far, every
time things like this surface, we catch it and stop it, and nothing really
comes of it."
"I suppose that's the only way to stamp it out for good," she
said, and then shook her head bitterly. "I just can’t get over it,
though—I mean honestly, will there always be people out there who insist on
practicing dark magic?"
"When the answer to that question is "no", I'll be out of
a job."
Ginny smiled. "Well… you probably wouldn't have very much to
worry about it if that happened. You're not a very big spender, Harry,"
she joked, steering the conversation away from the war. "Where are you
living now?"
He looked sideways at her. "Your… mum hasn't told you?"
For some reason, Ginny's heart skipped a beat. "No… why?"
"Er…" He cleared his throat. "Remember Order
headquarters?"
It took her a moment to comprehend it. "12 Grimmauld Place?"
she blurted, turning to him, unable to conceal her blatant shock.
Harry was half smiling. "Yeah…why?"
Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but had to close it and chose her
words carefully. "I just… it's a bit… surprising, that's all. I
mean, I never thought …well…" She blew out a breath. Apparently, choosing
her words carefully didn't mean anything at all. "It's unplottable
still, then?" she asked finally, using that as the reason she was so
shocked about it. Harry had once told her that he would never set foot in
that place as long as he lived.
"No, not anymore. I've actually refurbished it a bit," he told
her. "Given most of the old furniture away to charity… sold off a few…
portraits."
"Sold?" she asked with interest. "How did you
manage that?"
"Well, when you sell them for the right price to the right… er,
people…."
Ginny's brow shot up. "I don't think I want to know anymore,
thanks. Were any of them, erm, difficult to remove?"
Harry smirked. "Not after I announced that I was moving
in."
The cemetery was a bit creepy. Ginny had never visited Jacques the
Jaunty's gravestone after dark, so when they arrived and saw only a select few
tourists wandering the hundreds of tombs among a majority of mingling ghosts,
she and Harry exchanged looks before venturing forth. Nevertheless, it was
difficult not to laugh at the ghost who was trapped inside his own tomb and
amusing himself by giggling incessantly. Ginny asked another ghost, who
had paused to call hello to Jacques, exactly how he'd become trapped and this
caused a rather excitable group of ghosts to come together and reenact how it
had come about. Ginny found herself holding her side from laughing and even
Harry, who didn't understand one word of the story since the ghosts were
speaking in French, let out a bark of laughter when one broke apart from the
skit to gasp at his own tomb and fall to the ground, sobbing.
After the cemetery, they wound their way back down Rue Legrand and took
Rue Robertseau into Muggle Paris and there, they went around and saw many
tourists' attractions, using some well-known Apparition spots that were
cleverly hidden from Muggles. Harry finally saw his Eiffel Tower and Ginny
had to bite back a grin when the only comment he had for it was, "bit
filthy, isn’t it?" When they finally became tired of sight seeing,
they agreed to start walking back to the entrance of Lacasse and did so at a
slow pace, stopping to buy ice cream again at Ginny's insistence that she pay
this time.
"So…what's new with Ron and Hermione?" Ginny asked Harry,
licking her scoop of chocolate, then grinning maliciously at him. "Any
good fights lately?"
Harry's shoulder jerked on a laugh. There was a moment's silence, then,
"You know how they are."
"Yes, I do. I know all too well how they are. I miss
them." Harry looked at her and she allowed herself another grin.
"Yes, I even miss Ron. Mad, eh?"
"Mad."
"Well… it's like, I hate missing out on all the little things, you
know? It makes me think that I'll have been… I dunno, left out of everything
and it will all seem different and—" she allowed herself a bit of a
pout—"nobody will want to be my friend anymore because I'll have missed
all the fun."
A reluctant grin spread across his face for a moment before silence
slipped between them again. He tossed what was left of his cone into a bin.
"Things have changed a bit, I suppose."
Ginny took a crunchy bite of her cone. "I'm sure. Everyone
has jobs and their own places."
"Not Ron. He still lives at home."
"Yeah, but that's Ron. Lazy as always. Anyway, I hear he works lots
of hours so he's never home. And the twins, too, what with that book they wrote
– whatever that means, I doubt they actually did any writing – and the new shop
opening and all that."
Harry nodded. "Everyone works a lot."
"Yes, well I hear you win
that prize," she said, smiling. Harry looked at her sideways and lifted
his brow. "For working the most," she supplied, her voice tinged with
humor. "I remember Dad always talking about the hours that Aurors put in,
that sometimes they could never even go home at night." She grinned
then. "He used to say that to us when we complained that he worked
so late and I would think how lucky I was that I wasn't the daughter of an
Auror."
Harry smiled. "Your dad works hard. Always has."
"Yeah… Mum never complained about it, but I always knew that it
bothered her a bit, you know? She hated seeing him work so much.
So… do you still get to spend a lot of time with Ron and Hermione, then?
Or does your work cut into that more often than not?"
"More often than not."
"Oh, I'll bet they're really annoying about it," Ginny said,
grinning. "Do they pester you about working so much?"
"No. They get engaged."
It took a moment for Ginny to fully appreciate his words—he'd said them
so easily and the conversation until then had been so uneventful that she'd
started to nod in agreement. But then the impact of what he'd said hit her and
something in her heart leapt as she whipped around to face him.
"They… they're engaged?!"
she shrieked. "What—how—when—why
didn’t they tell me?!" she blurted clumsily, a mixture of excitement
and outrage coursing through her.
"Hold on," Harry said in a low voice, looking at once
regretful. "Ginny…"
"Is it true? It is! Why
didn't anyone tell me?! Just because
I live in a different country does not
mean—what is it?" she said
impatiently as Harry continued to mumble incoherently.
"Look, the reason you don’t know is because nobody knows," he said a worried voice. "I'm the only one
and it can’t get back to your family, so you can’t say anything about it to
them."
"But—but— but—" she sputtered.
"It's a secret, Ginny, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone—"
"Well, why not, what are
they waiting for? Is Ron getting cold feet?" she demanded.
"No," Harry laughed wearily, rubbing his eyes underneath his
glasses. "I… don’t know what they're waiting for, they just aren't telling
anyone yet, so… please, you can't tell anyone you know. Not even your mother.
Especially not your mother."
"Well, when are they going to—"
"I have no more information. Sorry."
Ginny blew out a huge breath and planted a hand on her hip. "I just
bet you don't. You know everything. Tell me."
Harry shook his head. "Please, just… try to forget that you know.
Please?"
"As if. Come on, Harry,
just—" But she broke off with an exaggerated groan when he looked
pointedly in the other direction. Honestly, what was he thinking, blurting it out like that and expecting to remain silent?
After about twenty torturous seconds of staring at his profile as though she
could will him to talk, Ginny rolled her eyes.
"Fine. Have it your way then. I, for one, cannot believe this. Do you know what's so
amazing? I just… can't believe my
brother actually asked Hermione to—wait,
he did ask her, didn't he?" she
demanded in a deadly voice, turning to look at Harry and almost tripping over a
curb. "Oh, please tell me she didn’t
ask him, oh, that would be just so typical
of Ron, wouldn’t it? Harry!"
Harry gave her a pained look. "Ginny."
"Oh, go on with you, I
won’t tell anyone, I swear."
He shook his head and took a slow, deep breath.
"He asked her."
And that was the last bit of information Ginny could get from him.
~*~
It should have been easy to keep the secret. Because Ginny didn’t see
her family everyday it should have been more than simple to just … not write and
share the news. However, since nearly every member of her family had
decided to write to her that weekend,
including Ron and Hermione, it was a challenge. As she scribbled a response to
George's short note, it was all she could do not to gloat that she knew
something he didn't and it was twice as tempting not to casually mention to
Hermione that she would murder her if she even thought about choosing wedding
robes without her.
After rereading the rather uneventful letter to Hermione, Ginny dared to
stop and wonder whether it would be all that bad if she were to just… tell
Hermione that she knew. Hermione was probably dying to talk to someone else about it …someone female, that
is. Someone with whom she could giggle and talk about all the details and
act like … like a girl.
Chewing on her quill, Ginny slid back into her chair and thought very
carefully about the consequences. It would
be going against her promise to Harry, but really, he could be so dramatic at
times. She wondered if he was just being stupid. Although he had been rather nervous about the entire
thing. Perhaps it was something that her brother and Hermione really and truly
wanted to keep quiet.
But so what if it was?
First of all, Ginny didn’t understand that. Why keep the news hidden? Everyone had been waiting years for
this very thing; it wasn't as though it would exactly be shocking news or
anything. If it were her
wedding—but Ginny stopped that thought with a lift of her brow. If it were her
wedding, she would probably refrain from telling her brothers for as long as
possible to avoid the teasing. But that was the only reason—Hermione wouldn’t
tease, Hermione would be a wonderful person to share the news with.
Hermione would be one of the first to know… probably.
Definitely.
Hermione was like her sister—
Ginny's thoughts broke as a good feeling spread into her heart.
Sister.
Honestly, Harry was being so ridiculous—he knew, why couldn’t she
know? Ginny had wanted a sister for all of her twenty-three years; this event
was as special to her as it was to anyone else. And besides, she had always
been very talented at keeping secrets so it wasn't as though Hermione had
reason to be worried that she would spread the word. After all, Harry hadn't been all that secretive…
he'd blurted it out as though there was no secret at all….
But he had regretted it
immediately and hadn't said another word for the entire walk to the flat….
Ginny gave a long and confused sigh as the door opened and Brian walked
in.
"What's wrong?" he asked and Ginny made a noise in the back of
her throat, still staring at the parchment and chewing on her quill.
"I know a secret."
"Does it involve me?" he asked at once.
"No, it—"
"Oh, well don’t tell me, you'll only regret it."
Ginny huffed out a breath. "I wasn't going to, I was–hang on.
You don’t even know my brother… or Hermione."
"Hmm? You're brother's girlfriend?"
"Yeah… but it's not like you know them at all—you just know them
from what I've told you…" she reasoned.
Brian was looking at Ginny very peculiarly. "I… never said I
knew them personally."
"I know, I'm just thinking that if I tell you the secret, it won’t make a difference because—why are you
shaking your head?"
"Because you shouldn’t tell me."
"But, why?" she
whined, almost stomping her foot. "I've got to tell somebody, Bri, and you're not important—"
"Stop, love, you're flattering me."
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I meant you're not important to them—well, you are of course, since
you're my friend, but—well, you know what I mean—it won't make any difference
to you—"
"That's exactly why you shouldn't tell me. I won’t be properly
outraged or excited or whatever, because I don’t know the people
involved."
"But, so what?" she laughed, thinking he was being ridiculous.
He wasn't making any sense at all. This was clearly big news to her and since
when did he care about such technicalities?
"Seriously, Gin, don't tell me," he said, his face absolutely
impassive. He moved to grab a newspaper that was lying on the worktop and
opened it up.
"Well," she said at last, thinking it wasn't worth a fight,
which it quite oddly seemed to be turning into. "I suppose I don't need to tell you, that's all
right. I don't know what's happening to me, though," she commented,
setting down her quill and capping the ink- bottle. "I'm usually
very good at keeping secrets."
Brian was silent at this and when Ginny turned to look at him, she saw
that one of his eyebrows was arched as he leaned against the worktop, scanning
his article. All of a sudden, Ginny felt something uneasy slip into the
pit of her stomach. He hadn’t said anything at all and the look on his face was
more vacant than anything, but just as she'd felt the other night when she'd
told him about Harry, Ginny could sense… something. Something not right.
When she'd first met Brian, Ginny had been trying with everything she
had to forget that Harry Potter existed and it had been such a complete
exorcism of her feelings that in the end, Ginny had become almost immune to
anything connected to him. Hearing his name on the street, reading about
him from letters and seeing his photographs in the papers had stopped affecting
her the way it once had. In fact, it didn’t affect her at all—it was like
hearing about what was happening with someone she'd been merely acquainted with
in school… a distant friend or an old acquaintance. And so, when Brian
had come along, reading his worldly newspapers and mentioning Harry Potter
doing this and accomplishing that, she would comment with the detached interest
that she'd truly and honestly felt.
Ginny stared unseeingly down at the parchment, her mind going in
circles, trying to decipher if she was being overly sensitive. It was on
the tip of her tongue to just ask him if there was anything wrong … but
something held her back.
Feeling suddenly out of place in her own home, Ginny slid her chair back
from the table. "All right, so do you want to go out to dinner
later?"
"Yeah, that's fine," Brian said, setting the paper
aside. "I have homework first, though."
"As do I," Ginny nodded, and when he didn't say anything else,
she gathered her parchment and ink. "Well…I'll be in my room… let me
know if any post arrives?"
"Right."
And that was that.
***
The underlying feeling that Brian was angry with her continued to exist in
Ginny's mind for the next few days even though Brian hadn't acted any
differently at all after that initial conversation (or lack thereof) in the
kitchen. But Ginny just couldn’t forget his odd reaction to her secret and she
found herself hiding the fact that she was in touch with Harry now. Part
of her couldn’t wait until they all went home so that Brian could see that, as
much as she and Harry were trying to pretend that they were great friends now
as it was the only thing to do while he was in Paris, Harry was Ron's friend,
not hers.
After the initial rush of letters from her family at the beginning of
the week, Ginny received two more towards the middle of the week, one from
Sarah and one from her mum.
Sarah's was thick with apologies and regrets that she wouldn’t be able
to visit France at the end of term as they had always planned. She had
been promoted at her job (from receptionist to private secretary) and she was
currently traveling with her employer who held "a very important position
at the Ministry." Sarah didn’t go on to specify which position that
was—she'd been too busy apologizing for nearly four pages.
When Ginny finally finished reading Sarah's letter, she felt a stab of
sadness. She had been very much looking forward to Sarah coming to France and
meeting all of her Paris friends and traveling around with her. What with
being so involved in the lives of Brian and Aurelie and Christian and everyone,
Ginny found herself feeling quite distanced from Sarah over the past months.
She had truly wanted to get back the same bond they'd shared for so long and
traveling round France had been just the thing Ginny had hoped for.
She started in on her mother's letter then, glad to have the flat to
herself. Brian had gone to meet a date and Maurice was at his perch by the
window as Ginny curled up on the sofa, sipped her cup of tea, opened the
parchement and started to read….
Three months. Three months.
Ginny stared at the words in utter confusion, ignoring Maurice's squawking to
be let out. Apparently, Harry had been away from home for three months.
It wasn't so much that he hadn’t made a physical appearance, Molly
explained, but since he'd left three months ago (without telling anyone that he
was leaving, mind) he hadn’t been in contact with anyone. Not Ron, not
Hermione… not anyone. The only reason everyone from home knew that Harry was in France was because the Daily Prophet
had announced that he was to be attending the Auror's Convention.
Ginny's mum managed to finalize the over-wrought letter with a few words
of reassurance to Ginny that Harry did do
this often as his job required it, and he couldn’t keep in touch most of the
time anyway because it was often
dangerous to send owls from his location. But three months was an unusually long time for him to be away without so much as a
word and if Ginny was able to get in contact with him, would she please ask him
to get in touch with Ron or Hermione?
Ginny reread the letter again and sat on the sofa for a few good minutes
before sending off a very brief note to her mother. She assured her that Harry
was quite healthy and doing fine, that she didn’t know when she would see him
next because school was keeping her very busy right now, but she would
definitely mention something to him if she did run into him again.
However, Ginny was not going to do anything of the sort. She was,
in fact, rather angry. So she was supposed to be in the middle of this now, was
she? She was, all of sudden, the connection everyone had to Harry. And it
wasn't just any Harry. It was a Harry who hadn’t been in contact with anyone
for three months, a Harry who had failed to mention this to Ginny and had
actually probably lied about it in one of their dull conversations over the
past weeks. And there had been many dull conversations, so many in fact that
Ginny couldn’t possibly remember every pointless thing they had talked about.
She was sure, however, that they had
talked about home, which would have been a prime opportunity to tell her that
he hadn’t been there for three months, much less been in contact with any of
the people that they had spoken about as well.
But he hadn't. He'd left it out. Or lied. Ginny couldn’t remember which,
but it was the same thing really. Harry was keeping something from everyone and
she was right in the middle of it.
Actually, she wasn't right in the middle of it. Not for long anyway.
Because she was going to completely remove herself from the middle and anyone
who didn't find that convenient would just have to live with it. She was not
going to provide her mother with information on Harry and she certainly wasn't
going to play confidant to the Harry who was now before her and try to find out
why he'd disappeared for three months and why he hadn't written, blah blah blah.
Her life was far too full without Harry Potter barging into it again –
in any respect.
There was a knock on her door later that evening and since she'd put to
rest her bitterness over being in the middle of Harry's problems and had thrust
away the stabbing guilt because she was willing to just dismiss them, the
thought that she would come face to face with the man himself at her threshold
never dared to enter her mind.
"Hey," said Harry uncomfortably, as though someone had forced
him to come.
Ginny regarded him with wary eyes. It wasn't enough that he had
showed up in Paris, in her world, but
now he was appearing unannounced at her flat as well?
"I didn’t mean to intrude or anything," he said quickly, his
eyes nervously darting to hers. "But I sort of needed to talk to
you."
Her brow shot up. He sounded matter-of-fact and serious and she
almost sighed with resignation that he might just bring up the very news she'd
heard from her mother last night.
"You're not intruding at all. Come on in. It's messy,"
she said unnecessarily as she stepped back to let him in. It wasn't a
record-breaking mess, but it was well on its way. "I haven't had the
chance to do much today."
Harry looked as if he'd just realized he was in a place he'd never been
before. "Oh… it's nice," he said lamely. "You've got
a lot of room."
"Yeah, we—" She bit down on her tongue. Hard.
"—do." She really didn’t want him to question just who 'we'
consisted of.
But he seemed not to have heard her. "Listen, what I wanted
to talk to you about is… well…."
Ginny stood, pretending to look curious, while rapidly trying to think
of what her response was going to be.
"I wanted to tell you," Harry continued gravely, "how
very important it is that you don’t tell Ron and Hermione that you know about
the engagement."
He'd said it so bluntly, looking so completely honest that Ginny opened
her mouth to respond to something else. "What?" she asked
in confusion a moment later.
"It's just… very important that they don’t know I've told you,
Ginny," he said seriously. "Even after they've told you themselves. I
know it's awful of me to ask you to lie, but I wouldn’t do it if it wasn't
extremely important."
Ginny shook her head and searched for something to say.
"I—it's fine. I told you I wouldn't say anything—"
"No, really, I need to have your word on it."
"Harry," she said on a sudden laugh. "I'm sure you're
making more of this than you need to. I don’t think they would be as angry as
you make it seem."
But Harry started shaking his head before Ginny had even finished.
"I knew you'd say that," he said impatiently. "You have to
understand, Ginny…" he trailed off and Ginny looked at him peculiarly.
"Well, what is it then?" she asked at last.
Harry stood for a moment, looking torn. Then he ran his hand
slowly through his thick hair and Ginny's eyes strayed absently to his forehead
and suddenly-revealed scar.
"Look," he said, his voice suddenly sharp. "The reason
they haven’t told anyone about this yet is because they're waiting for you."
Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "Me?"
"They didn't want everyone else to find out before you did and
rather than send you a note with the big news, they decided to wait until you
were home to announce it to everyone. That's why you can't tell them that
I told you," he pressed, his eyes looking directly into hers.
"It… it was an accident and I didn't mean to say it, it just sort of came
out, but if they knew I'd told you, they would go mad."
A minute ago, Ginny didn’t think she could be more confused, but her
bewilderment seemed to multiply. For a minute, she stared at him, a complete
loss as to what to say. And then, because she just couldn’t leave well enough
alone, she demanded,
"Does this have anything to do with why you haven't been home in
three months?"
Harry's brow shot up. Ginny stared in horror. Why, why, why had she said it? Her mouth opened,
then closed … then opened again and closed again. As she stood there like a
gaping fish, she saw a tiny window of escape—it was small, but she could
probably crawl through by insisting that she was stupid for bringing that up
and her mother was worried and overreacting in a letter and he could just
forget that she'd said anything at all.
Yeah, right.
"I've just received a letter from Mum," she explained, looking
at him squarely, trying not to jump to conclusions, but failing. She knew damn
well this wasn't some big mistake and now it was going to have to be blown up.
Because, as she knew all too well, she couldn’t
leave well enough alone. "She mentioned how worried she was, seeing as
it's been so long since anyone's heard anything from you."
The expression of utter confusion on his face became slowly mingled with
suspicion. "You…wrote to her about me?"
"Yes," she said carefully, "I was writing to her after
we'd had breakfast that morning and I told her about it. But she already knew
you were here from the Daily Prophet."
Harry looked bewildered. "So… if she knows I'm here, then why is
she so worried?"
"Well… it's not just Mum. Ron and Hermione, too. Apparently, they
thought that you couldn't keep in contact with anyone but when they found out
that you'd been in contact with me,
well…" she trailed off, looking at him closely. "I suppose they
were a bit … curious why you hadn't written."
Harry breathed through his nose. "I wish they'd stop… doing this. My
job has restrictions. There are things I can’t do and…" He shook his head
in frustration.
Loyalty to her family had Ginny narrowing her eyes, "I'm sure
they're just concerned about you, Harry. Obviously if you've been owling me,
then they see no reason why you can’t owl them. Is it some sort of
distance problem; you can't send post to a different country, or…?"
"Look," he said in a patient voice, as if he was going to
explain something that she probably wouldn’t understand, "It's
complicated, all right? There are reasons I can't keep in touch and
reasons I have to be away for so long. Do they think I want to be away?
Is that it?"
"I don’t know what they think, Harry," she said, lifting a
hand and letting it fall back to the cushion. "All I know is that it's
rather odd to just leave and not write for months."
Harry shook his head impatiently, as if it was pointless to argue with
her because she wouldn’t understand. Then he stopped suddenly, as if realizing
something. "You did it for years."
Ginny's lips parted in surprise. "What are you—I've kept in touch
with everyone."
His eyes met hers in a dull challenge. "I don’t remember ever
receiving a letter from you."
There was a moment where they simply looked at one another while she
thought of a response. "You never wrote to me, either," she finally
managed, completely taken aback.
"A bit of a difference, there."
"How is that?" she demanded.
"I don’t write to anyone," he said dryly. Then he shrugged.
"Look, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, but you're nobody to talk
about keeping in touch when you clearly didn’t make an enormous effort."
"If you wanted to know how I was all you needed to do was ask my
family. Or write to me yourself. Nobody has heard from you. They can't ask anyone how you are and they
thought they couldn’t write to
you."
"Right, it's my life, Ginny," he said in a final sort of way.
"I don’t have to explain anything to anyone."
"When people care about
you, you have an obligation to them, you can’t just—"
"What? Not write? You're a bloody hypocrite telling me this when
you never bothered to write a damn letter to me in five years."
Ginny opened her mouth to respond when a discreet cough announced
another presence in the room. She and Harry both turned, startled, towards the
front door that was open. Brian was standing inside the room, looking
from one to the other warily. Ginny felt her heart sink slowly.
"Sorry."
Brow arched, Brian walked passed the two of them into his bedroom and
closed the door sharply.
"Right," Harry said shortly and pulled out his wand.
With a pop, he was gone.
Ginny remained where she was, staring at the spot where Harry had been,
her mind absolutely reeling.
"What was that about?"
She whirled around to see Brian standing at the door to his room.
"I… have no idea," she said wearily, shaking her head and
pushing off from the back of the sofa. She tossed the cushion
aside.
"Why didn’t you tell me that you used to go out with him?"
Ginny's eyes flew to his and when she deduced that he was serious, she
blurted, "I've never gone out with him."
Brian's brow went up even farther, obviously suggesting otherwise.
"I haven't," she exclaimed.
But Brian narrowed his eyes, a mixture of confusion and aggravation
playing over his face. "Why do you feel you have to lie to me,
Ginny?"
"I'm not lying to you, I did not go out with him," she said
between her teeth.
"But you were good friends with him," he said, looking at her
suspiciously.
"Not really," Ginny snapped, furious at the way he was looking
at her. "And what if I had? Gone out with Harry? What's
it to you?"
"I don’t give a damn if you did, Ginny, I just don’t understand why
you lied to me."
"I didn’t lie to you!" she exclaimed, completely
frustrated. "I never said I didn't know him."
"Oh, don’t give me that."
"No, don't start with all of this, Brian. I know you've been angry about that, but really—"
"No, really, Ginny,"
he interrupted her. "We’ve had conversations about him—long
ones. Ones in which I've spoken at length about the sort of work he's
done and it never crossed your mind to mention that you knew him
personally? My God, he's Harry Potter!"
"Right, shut up with
that, won't you!" she yelled, her temper exploding.
"It's the TRUTH!" he shouted. "It's important
enough for you to mention it, so why didn’t you?"
"Have you told me every single stupid thing about your life?"
she shot at him, panic and fury and shame all skidding to a halt in her chest.
She would not let this turn into a
conversation about her history with Harry. That was none of Brian's damn
business. "It's a little detail of my past that I didn’t feel like
sharing."
"Your past," he pressed, looking at her closely, but she
refused to say another word on it and snapped her gaze to the window.
"Right," he said sarcastically. "You know what, don’t tell
me the truth. Write to Sarah about
it."
Ginny didn't have the chance to respond—Brian left the flat, sending the
door crashing into its frame.
~*~
It was completely horrible, spending an entire day anticipating telling
your best friend your deepest, darkest secret. Ginny knew that she had to
tell Brian the real reason she'd kept Harry a secret at first and it was a
testimony to how long it had been since she'd truly thought about it that she
dreaded bringing it all up and feeling that shame and humiliation again.
Not to mention the fact that she would have to share it with Brian, whose
opinion, Ginny admitted to herself, meant a lot to her.
It made her slightly bitter as well—not towards Brian, but towards the
entire situation… and towards Harry. If he hadn’t bloody shown up here—in
her world—she wouldn't be in this
predicament.
And she did feel cheated. Harry coming here had cheated her out of so
much. Granted, it had been awhile since she'd actually thought about it, but in
the beginning, playing over the scene in her mind—her grand homecoming as a
changed woman and Harry witnessing every minute of it – had been such a huge
thing to hold onto. Somewhere very, very, very
deep inside of her had always dared to think that her return would be it—the
change, the drive, the push Harry
needed in order to finally see her. And she would be so triumphant
because she would have stopped caring about him that way and she would be able
to live her life and finally be happy and Harry would be the one wanting.
Oh, it had been such a fantasy back then, such a good place for her to go when she felt positively miserable and
alone and so far away from home….
But that was shot to hell now. There would be no grand entrance,
there would be no triumph for her. Hadn’t she realized back then, that
where Harry was concerned, she would never
come out on top? And even though she harbored none of that stupid,
pathetic hope anymore, he was here to remind her, wreaking havoc on her life
without even knowing it. How bloody predictable.
She and Harry were not best friends. They'd shared something of a
closeness when there had been a war going on, but that had been very long ago
and things had changed so drastically that Ginny was now in a place where she
could admit that it was time to stop pretending. It was the pretenses
that always destroyed her where Harry was concerned and she couldn’t believe
that after all this time, she was still participating in it.
Harry had once been something huge to her and now that he wasn't… well,
there was just nothing left. No friendship. Nothing. Their entire
relationship had probably existed only in her mind… and her heart.
It didn’t take a mastermind to figure out that Harry had problems right
now. He needed something Ron and Hermione and the rest of the family
obviously couldn’t give him. It had happened so many times over the years, and in the old story it was she who would always step up and try to
be that something he needed. But she couldn’t do that now—it wasn't only
that she didn’t want to—it just wasn't possible anymore. She wasn't the same
person—Harry wasn't the same person.
She didn’t know him like she used to, and she didn't harbor any pretense that
she could help him.
And if she had to drag everything up again, if she was going to tell
Brian the entire truth, then it was the perfect time to remember it, for her
own sake.
She could never be what Harry needed, simple as that.
"Ginny."
She nearly jumped out of her skin. The tray of dirty glasses she was
balancing on her hip wobbled.
There he was again, appearing out of nowhere in the middle of her life,
like a ghost. Or a thief. He stood there wearing his formal work robes
and his glasses and looking so out of place that Ginny had to look around to
make sure she hadn't accidentally Apparated somewhere else.
"How… did you know I worked here?" was all she could think of
to say.
"You told me," he said, drawing his brow. "At the
Ministry, remember?"
"Oh." It seemed like an age ago, that day.
"Right. Sorry."
"I didn’t mean to interrupt your shift, but your… friend said that
you were working, so…."
Friend? He'd been to the flat. Brian had spoken to him. Ginny
tried not to think about how that conversation might have gone.
"I thought we might… talk, if you're not too busy…." Harry
looked around the café.
"Right," she said again, looking around herself and noting
that all of her customers were happily eating. "Erm… I suppose I can
take a break, let me just take this tray up to the bar."
"I'll wait outside," Harry said, ducking his head and Ginny
noticed a couple at a nearby table gawking at him.
She agreed and, handing the tray to Christian, muttered to that she was
taking a short break. Christian was frowning impatiently at Aurelie who
was sitting atop the bar flirting with a customer so Ginny assured him that she
wouldn't be long.
She met Harry outside, a short way down the trellis-lined path, which
led to the walkway. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his robes and
he was staring at the ground, pacing slowly back and forth. Seeing him
there, looking so much like himself, on the path that she'd walked hundreds of
times over the past few years was so strange to her… like a quick flash of the
past in a present day setting.
"Hey," she called.
"Hey," he said, straightening a little. There was a
brief silence as Ginny stopped in front of him and for a moment, they regarded
each other a bit awkwardly. Then they both began speaking at once.
"About yesterday—"
"Harry—"
They broke off and Ginny waited.