Title: "Seeking Ginny"

Author: Casca

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: When I imagine life after Hogwarts for the Weasley family, I rarely, if ever, picture Percy in the fold.  From early on, I always felt strongly that he would be a victim of the war and I never felt quite right about writing him into post-Hogwarts fanfiction.  For the sake of this story, I'd just have you assume that he died in the war.  I'm not sure if it will come up in the fic later on. I don’t have anything planned on that as of yet which could change, but in case it doesn't, I'd just like to settle any curiosity that may arise on the matter.

A/N: This chapter has been revised as of December 2005

Chapter Seven

There had been no order to the mess that Ginny called a life for weeks. What with all the packing that went into moving, the hassle to finish major assignments, the last-minute cramming for exams, the big leaving ceremonies at l'Academie, and her last day at work, the truth of actually leaving Paris for good had barely begun to sink in. Every so often she would pause while packing and look around the flat miserably. Her eyes would roam over the boxes that were stacked and scattered throughout the room, over the bare walls with nothing but shadows where paintings and mirrors had once hung, over the space where the sofa, chairs, and bed had been. Maurice, not knowing what was going on, would be flying confusedly from his perch near the window into Ginny's empty bedroom and back again while Brian would frantically pack towels into a carton as if his life depended on it. And there she would stand, bewildered as to how fast the day was approaching.

They were in the midst of packing up what was left of the living room when Ginny froze. She looked at Brian who was trying to pack Maurice's perch without getting bitten by the bird and the two of them seemed to be moving in slow motion. This can't be it, she thought desperately. There had to be more time. It must be a mistake… they still had one more year left…right? 

She sighed and walked wearily to the sideboard, the only thing in the living room left to pack. All of the furniture had already been taken by the Magical Moving Troupe early that morning.  The stacks of boxes that remained would be picked up in a few hours, filled with their clothing and some necessities they had left out during the week of packing. The drawer of the sideboard was a complete mess, full of old photographs and empty inkbottles, a quill or two and Brian's little black book of names and addresses.  She took it out and tossed it to him, watched a nostalgic look come into his eyes as he began flipping through and Ginny took a moment to study a photograph, feeling rather nostalgic herself. 

It was one of Ginny and Aurelie; they were seated at the bar, legs crossed, heads tilted and wide grins on their faces. That had been….her first year in Lacasse, Ginny realized, noting the straight hair that swung at her chin—the hairstyle she'd had done after her first few months of working.

Ginny absentmindedly lifted a hand to her hair, now back to its usual longish, wavy length.  Images began to come back to her as if her mind was flipping through photograph after photograph of the past five years. Haircuts and work shifts… lessons and professors… friends … parties… books she'd read… plays she'd seen… family who'd visited…five years…five years.

Term had officially ended one week ago, leaving Ginny and Brian seven days to pack those five years into boxes.  It hadn't been easy. Ginny hadn’t wanted to spend her last week in Paris inside the flat packing; she'd wanted to visit all of her favorite places one last time.  She wanted to see all of her friends and try to say goodbye to every single one of them. Though she'd been thinking about it for the last few months, leaving had caught up to her and after watching the Troupe members carry her childhood bed out of her room to be brought back to her old bedroom at the Burrow…. 

She'd finally realized what this truly meant.  A chapter in her life was closing.  This life, here in Paris, would eventually become just a memory.

"What are you doing?" Brian exclaimed and Ginny jumped.  "The Troupe will be back at five, it's—BUGGER, GINNY!" He swore again, louder and cruder.  "Look at the time!"

She looked.  It read quarter to four.  Something heavy fell into the pit of her stomach.  There was just over an hour to finish packing and they still had what was left of the kitchen.

"I know, I know," she cried, scooping up the photographs, using her wand to seal them and fitting them into her box. She made a mental note to put them into a great album when she got home. "Come on, we can do this."

And so, like all the other times she'd sat in despair this past week, Ginny became instantly numb to the fact that she was going to be leaving Paris for good—tomorrow—and forced herself to be busy.  Busy was the key.  Being busy made her not think that this was the very last night she would ever spend in her flat. 

After the box was finally full, Ginny grabbed the roll of industrial spellotape to close it.  She had a brief glimpse of Brian, Aurelie, Christian and herself grinning up at her in the photograph before shutting the flaps of the box.  She had tears in her eyes as she pulled the tape over the slit and Brian gave her shoulder a squeeze as he passed to his bedroom.

Six o'clock came quickly.  They had only just managed to shove the last of the kitchen things into a box and yank the spellotape over it when there was a swift knock on the door.  Ginny retreated into her bedroom while the Troupe, a group of wizards in gray uniforms and caps, legally shrunk the boxes and tossed them into a sack.  She lit the one candle that she'd kept out because the sun was beginning to set and looked around at the empty room.  There was her handbag on the floor and the blanket she was going to use to sleep on tonight, along with two sets of clothes—one outfit for tonight’s going-away party at the café and one for the Apparition trip tomorrow.  She grabbed the skirt and sweater she'd left out for tonight and walked into the other room.

"Where are the towels you left out?" she asked Brian who was staring around the room, his brow furrowed in confusion.  He looked as though he was having the same realization that Ginny had been faced with earlier. 

"Huh?" he asked, finally.

"Where are the towels you left out – I need to take a shower before we leave."

"Towels?"

"Yes, Brian, the towels," she said patiently.  "You packed them, remember?  What did you do with the two I told you to keep out?"

He looked around again.  "Uh….."

"Right, did you pack them?"

"Yeah," he exclaimed.  "Why didn’t you remind me?"

"I did.  Five-hundred times."

"Well, just use magic, what's the difference?"

The difference was having a soft, fuzzy towel to wrap around herself after the last shower she would ever take in her flat, but Ginny didn’t expect him to understand that. "No difference," she sighed and grabbed her wand from the sideboard.

An hour later, they stepped out. 

"You're very … yellow tonight," Brian commented.

Ginny looked down at her clothes as they came to the landing and pushed open the door.  "I'm trying to brighten my mood by wearing a bright outfit," she said over her shoulder.

"Is it working?"

"Not a bit."

Brian sent her a smile as they turned down the cobblestone street.  "Just think… after tonight, the next party you'll go to will be at your house."

Ginny tried to focus on that, but it didn't help that every building they passed… every shop and restaurant made her want to weep.  She gave a small wave to the flower seller who had always had a bit of a crush on her and heaved a sigh.

"Little does he know," Brian said in an amused voice.  "That you're walking out of his life forever."

"You are not making me feel better."

"Oh, come on, will you?  It's our last night in Paris! We have to make it memorable!"

"You can make it memorable, I'd like to just go to bed and wake up after I'm home; that way I'll have already said goodbye to everyone and… "

"That's a great attitude to have when you're walking to a party being thrown in your honor."

Ginny sighed again. Aurelie had refused to tell her one detail about the party, only that she was not to arrive early and Ginny had agreed, although she secretly wished that her friend hadn’t insisted on it. 

As she walked along the pathway, her mind wandered to her last going away party, the one her parents had thrown for her before leaving five years ago.  It had been quite awful. She'd been so worried that she was making a huge mistake but too ashamed to admit it to anyone as they all surrounded her, laughing and drinking and wishing her well.  She expected tonight would be much of the same although she knew that going back wasn't a mistake. It was just a bit terrifying.

"I'm awful," Ginny admitted to Brian in a low voice. "Aurelie has been so excited about this all week, but I wish we didn’t have to go.  I just don’t feel like pretending that we're having a good time and not dreading the end when we have to all say goodbye—"

"Ginny, it's not goodbye, you'll see them again—"

She shook her head impatiently.  Why didn't he understand what this truly meant? "It won’t be the same, Brian, you have to know that it won't.  We're going to get real jobs and we won’t come back as often as we say we will."

"Of course it's not going to be the same. But that's why I plan to make this night unforgettable." He spread his arms out, threw back his head and yelled in French, "Paris! Tonight will be our last love affair together. Let's make it a good one!"

"You're mad," Ginny said, but he did manage to make her smile.

When they approached the café, however, there was no loud music to be heard. There were no bright lights coming from the windows or the hum of chatter from crowds of people. She looked at Brian quickly before they made their way up the path and through the doors.  Her brows lifted. 

The crowds of people from University that Ginny had been expecting were not there.  In fact the only person in the room was Christian, behind the bar, of course, and mixing a bubbling cauldron. There were no streamers or party crackers or balloons or fairy lights.  There was just one big, round table in the middle of the floor, finely set for four people with tons of waxy candles and bottles of wine.

Ginny took it all in and breathed a grateful sigh. She looked at Christian who was smiling at her.  "She's going to be very angry that you’re here before it's all finished."

"It's not finished?" Ginny asked and was left with a moment of disappointment that perhaps she was getting the wrong impression after all, when on cue, Aurelie walked out of the kitchens and stopped short when she saw Ginny and Brian.

"You're early!"

But Ginny didn’t pay any attention to that – her focus was on the vase of flowers that Aurelie was holding, overflowing with gerbera daisies. 

"I love gerbera daisies," she said. 

"I know," said Aurelie, not meeting her eyes and placing the vase in the center of the table. Then she looked up and she and Ginny stared at each other. At that moment, Ginny missed her friend so much it was as though there were miles and miles between them instead of just a few feet.

"Right," Brian said after a few seconds, breaking the silence.  "No crying until after the party. So when does it start?"

"It just did," Aurelie said. "I didn’t think you lot would be up to a big bash, so I thought a quiet dinner with just us?"

It was… perfect, Ginny thought to herself and had to pause before speaking so that she didn’t start crying.  "That's perfect."

"Okay," Aurelie said, turning slightly businesslike and peering around. "Coconut Concoction almost ready?" Ginny made a noise of delight and clapped her hands together.

"And Pierre's just about done with the food," Aurelie muttered. She winked at Ginny.  "You'll never guess."

"Lobster bisque…?" Ginny asked faintly, and when Aurelie nodded, Ginny pressed a hand to her heart. Pierre only made it for special occasions.

"Among other things, but yes," Aurelie said mysteriously.

Ginny merely stood with her palm pressed against her heart, a bittersweet feeling spreading through her because she was actually starting to look forward to tonight's dinner - her last in Paris.  Brian was looking at her with a smirk.

"It doesn’t take much to make you happy, does it?" he asked, switching to English and pulling out a chair for her.

"No," she sighed, sitting down. Aurelie had even dragged the old cushioned chairs that they used for banquets out from the storage room.  Ginny looked apologetically at Brian. "I know this isn't exactly what you had in mind for tonight."

"Eh, it's all right," he said, sitting down next to her. "I have a date later anyway."

Ginny shook her head on a laugh.  At least some things would never change.

The evening became memorable at once when Pierre himself walked out of the kitchen to serve.  Ginny stared at him like he'd grown an extra nose as he ladled the bisque into her bowl.  Never, in all her years of knowing Pierre, had the chef left the kitchen—ever—for anything at all.

Dinner was a bit quiet.  Ginny and Brian told Christian and Aurelie about their last lessons and exams and the leaving ceremonies at l'Academie.  They ate more food than was proper and when Pierre brought out desert, Aurelie pulled a big box from under her chair and handed it to Ginny. 

"A little present."

Ginny grinned wistfully and lifted the top to reveal a handsome book… a photograph album. 

"Oh, this is excellent, I found all sorts of photographs today," she exclaimed. "I can put them in—" she broke off when she opened the book and gasped.  "Oh! Oh, wow, you've got some in here!  Oh…" she grinned, flipping through, noting that almost three quarters of the book was filled with photographs and other little things like receipts and letters and menus and brochures from places all around the city.  There were even some of Christian's famous recipes, although they had to be unlocked with a charm, she noticed and sent him a grin.  "Oh, oh, I do love this. It's everything! You've got everything in here!"

Aurelie grinned.  "I also left some spaces so you can add stuff," she explained.  "I stole things from your bedroom and went through your handbag a couple of times this week."

Ginny laughed.  "I didn't even notice."

"Hey, look," Brian said, stopping Ginny on a page in the middle.  "Halloween… last year, was it?"

"The year before," Ginny said, still flipping through.  "Oh, no!" she cried, laughing at another photograph. "I can’t believe you kept that one, I look terrible!"

"I look great in that one, I had to keep it," Aurelie said, leaning over.  "Turn to the second or third page, there was a really funny one of the Maquine sisters from the night we saw them in that pub…."

They spent the next few hours passing the album back and forth around the table, drinking and eating. Every photograph was a story to tell and they spent hours and hours reliving old times.  It turned out that Christian had saved all of the letters Aurelie had ever written to say she would be late to work and Ginny held her side laughing when she saw that every scrap of parchment put together totaled almost ten pages. 

"I know how much it costs you to give them to me," Ginny giggled, looking at Christian.  "I mean it's your proof what an awful cow she is."

"He would never use them against me," Aurelie argued.  "Because you love me, right?" she teased, grinning at Christian who lifted an amused brow and sipped his Guinness. 

"No comment," he said after a moment and they all laughed.

As much as Ginny wanted time to stop right then, it ticked on and after a while, when the candles had reached their stubby ends and the excited laughing and talking had begun to slowly drift into lazy conversations, Ginny found herself leaning back in her chair flipping slowly through the album on her own and listening with half an ear to Aurelie and Brian talk about the one and only date they'd ever had.

"I can’t believe I set that up for you," Ginny muttered, although she was sure they didn’t hear her – they were too busy bickering over what had ended the evening—Aurelie's ego or Brian's "your place or mine" query.

Ginny turned to the next page and found a photograph taken at the café a few years ago of about ten people.  They were posing and grinning at the camera, all huddled together to fit in the shot. Ginny's eyes wandered slowly over the faces, landing on Aurelie who had wrapped her arms playfully around Christian's waist and was snuggling against him. It wasn't odd, that; there wasn't a photograph in the album where Aurelie wasn't touching someone in some fashion or other; it was just her personality. But Ginny found herself looking closely at the two of them.  Aurelie had a wide grin plastered across her face and looked no different than usual and Christian had tilted his head close to hers, smiling.

As Ginny peered closely, she noticed the look on Christian's face… there was something rather familiar behind the eyes that kept falling down to gaze at the blonde head… and the frozen, rather tense smile that appeared on his face whenever Aurelie laughed. Ginny turned her focus to another snapshot, one with only Aurelie and Christian, behind the bar.  There was nothing out of the ordinary there, Ginny thought, and was about to look back at the group one again to make sure, when in the second photograph, Christian ever so slightly darted his eyes to the left—where Aurelie was standing. Ginny flipped the pages again, stopping at another which featured the two of them and in this one, it was next to obvious: Aurelie was propped on the bar for an individual shot that Ginny remembered taking herself… and Christian was in the background, his eyes steady on the back of the blonde's head as he wiped a goblet.

"I mean, you just assumed that I would follow you back to your flat, not even bothering to try and get to know me at all—"

"As if you didn’t do anything during dinner to warrant it," Brian said on a crack of laughter that had Aurelie huffing. 

"Like what?"

"Well… for one, that dress."

"What was wrong with it?!" she shrieked.  "It was a perfectly suitable dress."

"Yeah, for a veela," Brian said dryly, tipping his Guinness back and taking a swallow.

"Shut up!" Aurelie exclaimed, laughing.

Ginny dragged her focus from the book and looked up at Christian, but saw that his attention was on the stem of his goblet.

"I can’t believe it's nearly two o'clock," Aurelie exclaimed, glancing at her sleek silver watch.  "Time flew, didn't it?

"Yes it did," muttered Brian glancing at his own watch.

"I wonder if your date will have waited," Aurelie grinned slyly, cupping her chin on her hands and grinning saucily. 

"Oh, she's counting the minutes," Brian assured her.

Aurelie sighed.  "If you didn’t insist on being so in love with yourself, Brian McGuire, you'd be going home with me tonight."

Ginny's eyes flew to Christian, who had stood from the table and was carefully piling goblets onto a tray, his eyes focusing unwaveringly on his task.  She recognized that carefully concentrated task and concealed expression – looking at Christian was like seeing herself … she was eighteen years old and trying to ignore Harry and Rebecca. 

"Oh, leave it, Christian, I'll clean it all when I come in tomorrow," Aurelie said, pushing her chair back and standing.

"You'll be late," he said, sending her a sideways look. 

"I won’t, I promise," she grinned, sending him a wink.

Because of the sudden realization over Christian, there was already a heavy feeling in Ginny's heart as she stood, but when she looked at Aurelie, her insides twisted nervously.  This was it. There was nothing left to do but say goodbye.

Ginny watched Brian wrap his arms around Aurelie and tell her in a surprisingly serious voice to take care of herself. 

"You'd better write," said a voice in Ginny's ear and she turned to Christian, grinning. 

"I promise, I will," she said, reaching up on her toes to hug him. 

Tell her.

The words wanted to tumble out of Ginny.  She wanted to plead with Christian that if he had feelings for Aurelie, he should tell her… that it would be so much more difficult to get over if he didn't.  But she couldn’t.  She just couldn't. Instead, she smiled up at him when they pulled apart. 

And then it was time to say goodbye to Aurelie. The two held each other tightly for a very long minute before finally letting go.  They muttered that they would write several times a week and before Ginny knew it, she was stepping out of the café and walking down Bertrand Street for the very last time.

She'd sent Brian off to his date, insisting that she would be fine to walk home alone, that it was almost daybreak after all.  The truth of it was Ginny wanted to make the journey home alone.  She knew that she would be too nervous to sleep once she got back, so she took the walk slowly, looking at everything as if she would never see it again.  She wanted to memorize it – not the way it looked in particular because she was carrying a book filled with photographs of most of the places—but the way it felt to be here.  She knew that would be lost very soon and she was desperate to keep it with her.

After a short walk, she found herself heading straight for her bridge. Her bridge made her the most sad.  It was like saying goodbye to a friend.  She leaned her arms on the stone wall and peered out and below, her thoughts traveling to the day she'd found this place and everything she'd thought about there over the years. 

So many of those thoughts had been of Harry. 

Water splashed against the pillars way below.  Ginny abandoned Harry in her mind and began to daydream that the splashing was Merpeople come to bid her farewell. Then she rolled her eyes at herself. 

Her eyelids were drooping. She was daydreaming about Merpeople. It was time to sleep.

She made her way wearily back to her building and trudged up the stairs slowly.

'It's the last time I walk up these stairs,' she thought, but she was too tired to feel sad. 

She blinked when she stepped inside – it was very dark, with candles lit and at once, Ginny was wide awake, her mind snapping to the realization that she was sure she hadn't left any candles alight. Her entire body froze at a noise in the other room.

My last night here, and I'm about to get murdered, was her mad thought before Brian came through the bathroom door.

Ginny called him something that would make her brother Ron blush.

"Bloody hell," Brian muttered, walking to the middle of the room and sitting down on the floor, propping himself against the wall, and picking up a book.  "I should wash that mouth out with soap, young lady."

"You scared me, I thought you were out."

"I was."

"Well, what happened?" she asked, setting her handbag and the photograph album aside and carefully sitting down on the floor.

He shrugged.  "Wanted to come home. Last night and all that."

Ginny smiled. "Yeah…" She looked around at the empty flat, at the quivering shadows cast by the candles. 

"Did you enjoy your party?" he asked, lowering the book slightly.

"Oh… yeah… it was great, wasn't it?" She thought of Christian and Aurelie suddenly. "Hey, Bri," she started to ask him, but stopped herself.  She shouldn’t talk about that, she realized.  It wasn't her place to tell anyone about that. 

"What?" he asked after a minute.

"Erm… where's that blanket?  I have to sleep on something."

"I put it in your room.  You can have it."

"Thanks," she said, standing.  She took a candle and went into her room, but as she started to arrange herself on the floor, she realized that she didn't want to be alone in the huge empty room that was once her bedroom.  She stood again, and dragged the blanket into the living room.

"Will you be up reading for a while?"

Brian nodded. He'd switched from the book to a local newspaper. "I'm not sleeping.  We only have a few hours, not worth it."

She nodded. "Well, I'm sleeping in here, if you don't mind," she said as she spread the blanket out and sank down, folding up a sweater to use as pillow.  "This is uncomfortable," she said after trying to find the right angle on which to lie.   

"You should just stay up."

She sighed, "I can’t," and tossed some more.

"Are you going to be doing that all night?" he demanded mildly.

"So what?  You're not trying to sleep or anything." 

He sighed again and there was silence as he continued to read and Ginny lay flat on her back, trying to see if it was comfortable enough. She quickly decided it wasn't and turned onto her stomach.

"Your friend is in here," Brian said.

"What?" she managed, yanking her shirt out from where it was pulling against her from rolling over.

"Harry Potter."

"Oh?" she said, pausing.

"Yeah…he left Paris on 'more important business.'  The article is speculating why he was even here at such a pointless gig when most of his jobs hold the highest level of importance normally."

"Hmm," said Ginny, rolling onto her left side now.  "I don’t know, he really didn’t talk too much about why he was here—that convention and lots of meetings was all he said about it. Anyway, I knew he'd gone. Mum told me in her last letter."

Brian nodded and turned his page.

Ginny gave up and crawled into her bedroom for her wand, to use it on the blanket to make it softer. 

"Dunno why you didn't just do that in the first place," Brian muttered and Ginny threw him a dirty look before settling down on the much-improved blanket. 

"I thought I could rough it for one night," she snuggled into the blanket but exhausted as she was, she just couldn’t fall asleep.

"That photograph album was such a wonderful gift," she said on a yawn.  "I'm going to add all my things to it once I get home.  I'll have lots of time on my hands with no job or anything."

"You'll get a job," Brian assured her automatically.

"It's okay if I don't," she said seriously.  "I'll just be a farmer.  I've always wanted to have a farm."

"Are you sure there wasn't any Firewhisky in your drink tonight?"

She giggled.  "Yes. I'm like this naturally, didn’t you know?"

She heard him chuckle.  "Hey, you know what I was thinking about before? Our first Christmas in the flat."

Ginny made a happy noise in her throat.  "Oh, yes…remember my gingerbread cookies?"

"I'd rather not.  Remember my tree?"

"Remember the carols I charmed to play whenever someone knocked at the door?"

"Remember when the spell backfired and the carols never stopped?"

"I remember I was scared of you for the first time when that happened," she muttered on a laugh, which turned into a yawn.

They went on with the 'remember when's' for a while until Ginny felt her eyelids drooping and, more than a little reluctantly, she gave in to sleep.

Five Years Earlier

It was a Friday evening.  The summer was drawing to a close and the aura at the pub in Hogsmeade was that of relaxation mixed with lazy anticipation for the weekend that stretched out ahead.  Kids packed the tables in the back while the bar was studded with witches and wizards sipping their drinks, engaging in laughing conversations and simply having a good time.  It had been quite a while since these walls had sustained such a relaxed attitude from their occupants within and the customers themselves knew what a privilege it was simply to be there.

Ginny sat in the midst of it, having been laughing herself with a small group of her friends, who had just gone off to the witches loo together.  Ginny had opted to stay put.  She didn’t feel much like hearing the tales that were no doubt going to come up within the cubicles of the loo.  New boyfriends and potential boyfriends and old boyfriends coming back to complicate matters weren't the sort of things that she felt like listening to, much less searching for words to comment on.  She was trying too hard to disguise the anxiety that was taking place in her abdomen right now. 

"Refill?" asked the barmaid, giving her a warm smile.

Ginny returned it.  "No, thanks… still working on this."

"Just holler when you do," Rosmerta said, giving her a wink and Ginny smiled back. She sat there quietly, surveying the room for a while, before turning her unsettled attention on the surface of the bar, where she began drawing circles with her forefinger in the small puddle of spilt butterbeer.

"Having fun?"

Ginny turned in surprise at the voice that cut through her thought trail. Harry had appeared next to her and was bent over the bar, leaning his arms on the surface, his head tilted in her direction. Ginny took in the wide grin that was plastered across his face, the pink color that was tainting his cheeks and the brightness in his green eyes. A glance downward had her spotting the bottle in his hand, a bottle that she was willing to bet contained something much stronger than butterbeer.

Normally, she would have felt the urge to laugh—she'd seen Harry pissed before and if he reacted to the alcohol in the same fashion as last time, he'd be falling asleep on his feet very shortly. 

His sleepy drunkenness was usually the sort of thing that made him endearing to her… but not now.  Now, a strangled sense of anger clouded her vision and made her want to turn her head from him. Or walk away. 

But she forced a smile.  "Of course."

Harry nodded and cast his head down, studying his bottle, the sarcasm in her voice seemingly lost on him.  After a moment of contemplation, he lifted his drink and sent Ginny a sideways glance. "I have no idea what this is. George offered it and I took it. D'you think that was a mistake?" There was a bit of humor that touched the surface of his eyes, but there were other things in the green depths… other, much deeper emotions that usually only shone in brief flashes when his control was not in check. He was being haunted tonight, Ginny decided as she studied his eyes boldly, by the demons that never left him alone. 

Hurting, Harry? She found herself thinking nastily, turning her head, and resenting him. She would be drawn to him when his eyes looked like that for the rest of her life, whether she spent five years in Paris or twenty. 

"Where's Rebecca?"

Harry glanced around the room. "I'm not sure," he said after a minute.

Ginny made a noise in her throat.  A dozen responses rose in her mind, each more biting than the next. 

Easy, Ginny. 

She drew a deep breath. "Lost her already, have you?" she asked lightly, after a moment.

Harry heaved a sigh.  "Yeah… she wants me to dance… and I'm pissed enough to do it, I think."

Ginny's shoulders jerked. "Well, if you avoid her a little while longer, you'll be asleep, so try that," she said, veiling her sarcasm once again and patting his forearm.  An electric current shot from her fingertips, up her arm and straight to her heart.  Suddenly numb, she drew her hand away and turned her barstool so that she was facing the crowded floor, twirling her butterbeer in her hands. Her eyes wandered the crowd, searching for one of her friends so that she could excuse herself. 

But Harry was laughing.  "Are you trying to tell me… Ginny…" he was having difficulty thinking of the words, "that I can't… hold my liquor?"

She looked at him and in a brief moment could tell that he was trying very hard not to wallow in whatever was making him grieve. He wanted to laugh.  He was trying.  Ginny felt the corners of her mouth tug.  How was it that he could melt her resentment in a heartbeat?  "No, Harry," she said, allowing her lips to turn up.  "Not at all."

"Good, because I can, you know," he said on a yawn.

"Where's Ron?" she asked him, giving in to the little twinges in her heart as he set his elbow on the bar and propped his chin on his hand, his glasses becoming slightly askew. His eyes were slowly glazing over as they surveyed the stacks of goblets and glasses against the mirrored backing of the bar. In answer to her query, he lazily tilted his head in the direction of a group of people and Ginny's gaze followed his gesture.  Ron was among the group of dancing people, as was Hermione. Ginny watched Hermione laugh as Ron held her close and danced sloppily, whispering something in her ear.

Ginny's smile faded slowly as she looked back at Harry, who was now fighting with his drooping eyelids.  From absolutely nowhere, tears sprang into her eyes. 

"Hey, you two!" the distinct, throaty voice of Rebecca Stephens said laughingly.  She linked her arm through Harry's as he sat up straighter and smiled sleepily at the brunette.  "What are we drinking?" she asked, looking from Ginny's bottle to Harry's.

"Just butterbeer for me," Ginny said ducking her head and thanking the heavens that the place was dark. She hopped off her stool, blinking, a dull pressure rising in her chest.  "But keep an eye on him," she said lightly to Rebecca.  

"Oh, I will," Rebecca said, pulling Harry's bottle towards her and sniffing it. 

"Hey," Harry said, then called something to Ginny that sounded like a playful 'thanks', but the only thing Ginny could hear was the roaring in her head. Sliding silently through the crowd, she made it to the bathroom and, praying that it had been vacated of her friends, pushed the swinging door open.  To her immense luck, the few people inside were complete strangers; she went through a cubicle, locked the door and took a deep breath.

He was going to marry her.

She squeezed her eyes against the tears.

He was going to marry Rebecca. 

She chanted the words over and over again, like a mantra in her head. She knew if she said it enough, she could force herself to believe it and therefore be okay when it actually happened.  Because it would happen.  There was nothing for it – she, Ginny, was giving up.

Not that she would have ever had him. Oh, no, she knew that.  But if she did this, if she left tomorrow, it would be the end; there would be no thinking that there might be a chance later, down the road.  This was it. She was giving up. Giving him up. 

Tomorrow, it ended.  Well, not for her, of course. Ginny was no fool. She knew she would never really get over Harry.  This feeling, right here, would never go away—it couldn’t.  It was too much a part of her, it was too big… so much bigger than her.  There wasn't anything that she could do to end it, but perhaps, with time, it wouldn’t be so bad.  She could hide it, and maybe even… maybe even find someone else and then Harry would be something that she would just… regret.  Just regret.  And he wouldn’t cause all of this shame and humiliation and hurt in her life … and she wouldn't be forced to think about him because there would be someone she could love who actually loved her.

Desire hit her so quickly and went so deep; Ginny winced, and then hung her head in shame.  She felt pain on her palms and she looked down to realize that she'd curled her fingers into such tight fists that her knuckles were white and her nails dug into her flesh…. 

Would she ever, ever stop wanting Harry to love her? 

~*~

"…Ginny… Gin!"

"What?" she demanded, and then opened her eyes.  She was standing up, leaning against a pillar and… sleeping.  She blinked twice.  "I fell asleep."

"Really?" Brian said sarcastically. "Come on, we only have a little more time left, look—"

Ginny looked… and her heart nearly sang.  She could actually see it… the front of the queue.  There were about twenty people between herself and a long row of desks where Ministry officials stood inspecting traveling papers and travelers themselves. Standing on tip-toe, Ginny watched a tall wizard clad in purple robes being searched by the officials before passing through the huge door behind them.  Ginny saw a glimpse of light as the door closed behind the man and a little jolt of excitement raced through her.  Bill was standing behind that door.

They had arrived at England's Apparition station about fourteen hours ago.  Ginny had to admit that it was much more difficult standing here in England's queue than it had been in France because of the fact that she was technically home already and it seemed pointless to be standing in a queue to Apparate such a short distance from here.  It had been over a day since they'd left Paris, having spent fifteen hours in France's station, and now just under fourteen hours in England's.  They had made rather great timing according to some seasoned travelers they'd met who said that the last time they'd traveled from France, it had taken them nearly three days.

Ginny heaved a sigh and hooked her arm around the pillar that she happened to be standing next to and leaned her head against the cool surface of it. She thought of her farewell party at the café, which seemed like a lifetime ago already. 

"… don’t bloody believe this!  I should have taken those Muggle airplanes, I should have!"

"Shut up, Earl, you know the Ministry doesn’t look kindly on that—"

"Bugger the Ministry, I've been standing in a bloody queue for TWO DAYS!"

Over the bickering couple behind them, Ginny exchanged weary smiles with Brian before closing her eyes again and listening with half an ear to Earl and his wife.  She gathered that they had arrived from outside of Europe so it had taken them much longer to get to this point of the line than Ginny and Brian.  Ginny continued to listen until Brian nudged her when the queue began to move and she looked fondly at the pillar she had to leave behind – she'd been so lucky to have it beside her. 

Ginny didn’t have to wait very long without the column, however. Whether it was her mild interest in the bickering couple (they reminded her distinctly of a bickering couple she knew very well who were waiting for her at home) or the fact that she could actually count down the number of people ahead of her, but the time seemed to be going very fast and before long, a very short hour had passed and Ginny found herself standing at one of the desks, scrambling to hand over her traveling papers. She sent Brian an uneasy look as a wizard began to perform some complicated searching spells on her, but he was busy raising a brow at the official who was approaching him. 

"Okay! Go!"

Ginny's eyes widened as the man abruptly stopped his search and waved an arm at her.

"What?" she cried, thinking she'd done something wrong.  She glanced to where Brian was being searched but found herself looking at somebody else.

"Don’t just stand there, go on, do you know how long the line is, lady?"

Ginny quickly noted some of the people standing in the queue looking at her impatiently.  "Oh, you mean, I'm done?!  I can go?"  

The wizard lifted a brow at her and Ginny didn't wait for a response.  She grabbed her handbag from the table where they'd searched it and pushed through the door.

Fresh air was suddenly upon her and bright, beautiful sunlight. She took a deep breath and adjusted her eyes to the vivid colors.  It was a huge courtyard with tall trees casting speckled shadows over the elegant stoned patio and smooth, round patches of bright green grass surrounded by a thin edging of flowers. There were people all around her, hugging and greeting the travelers, and Ginny listened with a bit of a thrill as they spoke her own language. She hadn’t been outside in more hours than she wanted to count and the light summer breeze was incredibly refreshing to her sleep-deprived body.

Ginny started walking slowly, looking all around for a familiar face.  She spotted Brian a short distance away, standing with his mum and Ginny stood on tip-toes again, trying to see over the heads of a huge crowd that was assembling in front of her.  Sure enough, after a few seconds of searching, she spotted the bright red hair a distance away and it was all she could do not to push people over to try and get to him.  As she neared, however, and started to call out his name, she saw that it wasn't Bill.

"Your favorite brother couldn’t make it," Ron called dryly, his mouth twisting into a sarcastic smirk.  "So I came instead."

A grin spread wide across Ginny's face and she couldn't help herself. She threw her arms around him.

"You get shorter every time I see you," Ron said after a few seconds, pushing her away and messing her hair. 

"That's nice," Ginny said, grinning and realizing how much she'd missed being insulted by him. "Have you been waiting long?"

"Not too long," he said, taking the bag she shoved at him. "Dad kept getting updated times from somebody at the office, so it all worked out.  Bill had to work, that's why he's not here, but he's probably home by now anyway and Charlie is at home helping Emma with the kids and Fred and George had to work, but they should be home by now, too. Mum's cooking a huge dinner and Dad is—well, he's setting up your surprise."

"My surprise?" she asked, biting her lip.

"Yeah," Ron said, shaking his head in annoyance.  "He's been bloody manic about it for months—pieces of it all over the damn place – Julian was playing with them the other day and nearly cut his hand off. Charlie had to come home from work to take him to St. Mungo's just in case—"

"Oh, no," Ginny moaned on a laugh, burying her face in her hands. 

"But not to worry!" Ron said in an irritated voice. "The bloody thing is all put together now and… well, you'll see," Ron grinned deviously.

Ginny tried to think what it could possibly be.  "You have to tell me."

"Ginny, Mum would disown me. The family would break up." 

"Would not," she laughed and pulled his sleeve. "Come on, you haven’t met Brian, have you?"

~*~

The first thing that met Ginny when she materialized at the Burrow was the very distinct smell.  It was a mixture of spices and burning firewood and Madam Lola's Floor Cleaner and something unrecognizable.  But it was the same scent that had greeted her every summer when she came home from Hogwarts and it was the most wonderful scent in the world. 

The next thing that greeted her was a five-year old Charlie running towards her at full speed.

"Julian!" Ginny cried happily, crouching down and holding out her arms. But instead of receiving a hug, her nephew thrust two chubby palms into her abdomen and pushed hard.  Ginny toppled sideways, her weight falling on one knee and she slapped her own palm against the floor to stop herself from tumbling over.

"JULIAN!" roared both Charlie and his wife Emma as the boy continued to run past Ginny as if she'd only been a mere obstacle in his path.  She heard Julian's small footsteps on the stairs behind her followed by several unmistakable adult ones thudding after him. 

"Taken down by a five-year old!" laughed another voice.

"It's good a thing she's home, George, she's been without our influence for far too long." 

"Not long enough," Ginny commented, still getting over having been pushed to the ground in the first seconds of her return. But she couldn't help grinning as she gripped the back of a kitchen chair to pull herself up.  "Don’t help me or anything, I'll be all right."

"Don't worry, Gin, you were here before Julian, he has nothing on you," said Fred.

"He takes after us," George grinned.

"I see that," Ginny said, flinching as huge crashing sounds came from upstairs.

"Just like you did, oh, so long ago," Fred tutted.

"But now you're out of practice, we'll have to give you a crash course."

"Later," she said, holding up a hand as identical grins sprung up on their faces.  "Right now, I'm just too tired.  Where's—"

"Have a nice Apparition, then?" It was a voice from behind and Ginny whirled around to see Bill grinning at her. Something about seeing her oldest brother, the brother she'd looked up to her entire life made her want to cry. "Sorry I couldn’t make it to pick you up," he said, and then grunted when she threw her arms around him.  

"We didn’t get a hug like that," she heard Fred tell George disdainfully.

"That's all right, Ron was there," Ginny told Bill.  "It didn't take as long as I thought it would, Apparating."

"You must have been lucky, they say the times have become even worse lately."

"Really." Ginny wasn't too interested in talking about Apparating since she'd just spent the entire day doing it.  "Hey, were you upstairs?" she asked Bill. "Was Mum—"

"Is she here yet?" another familiar voice called from the staircase, this one female. It wasn't the voice she'd been waiting for, but it made Ginny's heart leap with excitement nonetheless.

"Hermione? I'm in here, where are you--?"

Hermione appeared in the doorway, grinning madly and nearly jumping up and down. "Hi, at last! Finally, you'r