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Oct. 26th, 2006 07:34 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
fics_by_mapleWithin You, Without You
Chapter Seven - Getting Better
~^~
She jutted out her chin and looked at him through squinted eyes, a suspicious look on her face.
“You mean, after these past few weeks together, you really don’t know?” Ginny didn’t look particularly angry, but there was a shift in her tone that set off a warning in his head.
He swallowed, and something in his throat felt twitchy. Where his fingers once had been making methodic circles along the backs of her arms, he now began anxious rubbing. “Well I didn’t think it was necessary to bring it up. I didn’t want you to, I dunno, be uncomfortable, or feel bad about it or anything.” There, he thought, relaxing. Avoided that mess.
But he felt her stiffen under his hands, and she pulled away sharply.
“And what would I have to feel bad about?”
“Nothing! Not at all – I didn’t mean that. I just meant that since you had been so great about me-” Harry ruffled the back of his hair and tugged on his collar. “ – about my, er, history, that I wasn’t going to say anything about your history. It’s really okay with me.”
But the look on her face told him in an instant that he had made things worse. Ginny took in a quick breath, and she seemed to grow twice her size.
“Oh you’re “okay” with it, are you?”
“Uhm.” Harry had thought he was doing the right thing, but he was clearly fouling this up. “Yes?”
Ginny abruptly pushed him away from her and hopped off the wall, and though she was a head shorter than him she looked none too small now. He felt his own defensive anger build in him.
“Well, you’ve got some bollocks, Potter. Telling me I’ve – and you – you.” She looked too angry to speak.
“Hang on. There’s no need to get your wand bent. I didn’t mean that it was something you should be ashamed of – ”
But Ginny gasped and Harry shut up, realizing he was only making things worse. He didn’t understand why she got so upset when he was being so understanding, but it also made him angry.
He hadn’t done anything wrong, he insisted to himself.
But it didn’t seem to matter. One minute he was laughing and snogging his girl, and the next minute she had walked away from him without a word.
~^~
Ginny sat rather ungracefully at the bench along the table, chin propped on her hand, poking the pulp of a watermelon repeatedly with a spoon.
A tense meal and a few hours had passed and Ginny’s anger at Harry had dissipated, and now she was left with guilt. It wasn’t really Harry’s fault after all.
Ron grabbed a strand of her hair, giving it a sharp tug as he straddled the bench facing her. She screwed up her face from the mild pain of the pull, but wouldn’t give Ron the satisfaction of hearing her wince about it.
“What’s going on, little sister?” he asked.
“Not a thing,” she said rubbing her head and giving him a shrewd look. Ron’s nose was slightly red, as were his eyes. “Ron …Are you drunk?”
“Nah,” he protested, trying to rest his chin on his hand and missing. “A little pissed, yeah – not drunk.”
Ginny shook her head and huffed at him.
“Come on, tell me,” he urged, reaching to pull her hair again.
“No.” She batted his hand away. “’S none of your business.”
“Oy. If there’s anything that’s my business, it’s you n’ ‘arry.”
“You really don’t want to know. I promise you,” she said, taking a napkin to wipe the mashed potato that he had just leaned into off his elbow.
“Yes, I do. I mean, unless it’s about, you know, the sex or something.”
Ginny snorted. “Well, it is.”
Ron winced and sucked breath between his teeth. Then he scrubbed his large hand over his face and rubbed his eyes hard.
“Okay then. What can I tell you? Is he rubbish? Do I need to give my mate some advice?” He had a wicked gleam in his bright eyes.
“Ron.” She giggled. “Shut up! We’re not having ‘the sex,’ so you’re off the hook.”
“Oh, good.” Ron looked relieved, but then frowned. “Then how can you be arguing about sex if you’re not having it? …Wait a minute – he’s not pressuring you, is he?” He broke into a very Fred-like grin. “Want me to wupp him? He’s scrappy, but I can do it.”
“Will you stuff it already? You know Harry better than that. Of course not.”
Ron appeared deep in thought as his bloodshot eyes darted back and forth for a moment before fixing on her again.
“I don’t get it then.”
Ginny sighed. “I said it was nothing. Harry was just being stupid.”
“Oh. Well, I’ve no doubt about that; he can be thick sometimes.” Ginny smiled, but Ron grew slightly more serious. “So, did you yell at him?”
“No. I didn’t want to be like that. I was very careful not to yell at him.”
“Ah, that’s it, then,” Ron said.
“What? I was trying to be nice and not fly off like Mum.”
“Yeah, but Harry doesn’t deal with ‘silent-angry.’ ‘Yelling-angry,’ that he understands. He’s good in a proper fight. You wanna yell and trade insults, he’ll meet you blow for blow, but if you give him the silent treatment-” Ron sighed. “Makes him nervous when people he loves don’t talk to him.”
Ginny met her brother’s earnest face with a wary smirk. Funny that Ron would say it before either of them.
“Yeah, he loves you. I’m sure of it.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded, giving her a gentle shove. “Love him?”
Ginny bit her lip, and crinkled her nose, but smiled. She couldn’t tell Ron what she hadn’t even told Harry himself yet.
Ron smiled and reached for her hair again, causing her to flinch. But instead of pulling it, he patted her head affectionately, and pulled her into his shoulder in an awkward half-hug.
~^~
Harry was throwing rocks at an old tree stump when Hermione joined him. He looked at her with a half-hearted warning, knowing she had come to talk, and she gave him an innocent look.
She picked up a stone and tried her turn at hitting the stump. It landed about eight feet away. Harry chuckled.
“You held onto it too long,” Harry said. “Let go when your arm is fully extended.”
Hermione pursed her lips and huffed, as though she couldn’t care less about learning how to toss a rock across a field, but she couldn’t resist the challenge either.
Her next rock almost made it.
“Quick study,” Harry noted, zinging another.
“Harry, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” she finally asked tersely.
“Nothing’s wrong. Why?” He had to at least make an effort to play it off.
“Because you are showing me how to throw rocks, instead of sitting back there with your girlfriend.”
Harry deflated a little. His landed with a thunk, well short of its target.
He looked at Hermione for a moment before speaking.
“Not much point in trying to keep anything from you, is there? I guess me and Ginny had our first row.”
“Only your first?” Hermione asked, sounding incredulous.
“Well, we argue about stuff all the time, you know, like about the Muggle Protection Act or the Auror’s Use of Force policy. Things like that. …This was different.”
“How was this different?”
Harry sighed, rolling the rock between his fingers. “This was personal, intimately personal. She didn’t even stand and yell at me; she just walked away.”
“I see. But, Harry, you didn’t find it …exciting, at all?”
Harry snorted and licked his bottom lip. “No. I felt like I might throw up.”
“Oh,” Hermione said simply.
Harry grinned. “You two really get off on the fighting, don’t you?”
“What?”
“You heard me. Perverts, the both of you! And I’m supposed to take advice from you?” Harry chided, nudging her with his elbow.
“Harry!” Hermione blushed and giggled, then added quietly, “Making up is fun too.”
He snorted as he put his arm around her shoulder, resting his head against hers. He was still a little light-headed from Charlie’s Romanian Whisky, and found that his heart was sitting right in his throat.
“Everyone here has their own dragons to deal with, Harry. Ginny’s no different than the rest of us.”
“Mmm, you might be right about that,” Harry agreed.
Hermione tutted, as though there could be any other possibility.
~^~
Harry and Hermione entered the garden hand in hand, and Ginny got up from the table where she was sitting with Ron.
As always, Harry was compelled to follow her. He was helpless against the magnetic force of nature that drew him towards her. It was simply in his blood.
He gave Hermione’s hand a squeeze as she went off to Ron, who was grinning at her with glazed eyes.
Ginny caught his eye, looking over her shoulder at him momentarily, and then she was gone from his view as she entered the house.
When he passed through the kitchen, he saw a glimpse of her hair swinging around the corner as she went up.
He passed the family clock, each family member’s hand quite unusually sitting in one location.
Climbing the stairs two at a time, his muscle memory started to take him all the way up to Ron’s room. But he stopped with his foot on the stair as he got to the third floor landing, a blaze of color in the open door catching his attention. Ginny’s room, of course: he wasn’t accustomed to going there.
He pushed the door open and paused for moment, by way of announcing his presence before entering, and then pushed the door shut behind him. Maybe another day he would take his time to enjoy what he saw in Ginny’s bedroom: the posters on the wall, the clothes on the floor, her treasures on the chest of drawers, all of which were insignificant when compared to the actual woman in front of him.
She was sitting in the window seat, with her back against one wall and her knees pulled up to her chest.
He took up a seat opposite her, mirroring her pose as well as his long legs would allow. With his elbows resting on his bent knees, his hands hanging in front of him, their fingers were nearly touching.
Just another hair closer and, there, their fingertips touched. Who knew that fingertips could communicate so much?
Ginny finally broke the silence.
“It’s embarrassing,” she said with a simple shrug, looking at him briefly before looking back out the window. “When you made that assumption, I got embarrassed.”
Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “I haven’t seen you get embarrassed in years.” Harry felt the defensive knot he had built up in gut begin to subside, and he shook her hand playfully.
Ginny snorted.
“No, really. You just laugh things off. You never get wound up about things like Ron does.”
“I suppose I grew thick skin to a lot of stuff.”
“What’d you need a ‘thick skin’ for? You were popular, and smart and pretty, and – ”
“Bah!” Ginny frowned and scrunched up her face. “What does ‘popular’ really mean anyway? I had people to sit with on the train? Who cares about that? So a lot of people knew me.”
“Well yeah, you always had friends.”
“I had people to talk to, sure. You know who my real friends were: Hermione, Luna. I was the last of seven Weasleys; I had a reputation before I even got to school. And you know the reputation we have, the male Weasleys in particular. Every one is randy and fertile or some shite. Which is all well and good for wizards, isn’t it? Good for a laugh with the blokes. And even a complete arse like Percy always had a girl on line, didn’t he?”
Harry snickered. If he had ever doubted this was true, the conversation led by Fred and Charlie earlier would have confirmed it.
“And not getting married ‘til late in life, like Bill, or not at all like the other boys who are still running around wild. At least Ron getting married young went a little ways to please the old fashioned types.”
Harry rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement.
“Well, the same reputation isn’t very flattering for a witch, is it? No, the same thing said about a girl makes her a slag. You add that to the whole thing that happened in my first year. Well…”
Harry squinted and puckered his lips, trying to reconcile her bearing the Weasley reputation with what happened to her during her first year.
Ginny sighed, and the sound turned into a quiet giggle. She leaned forwards and took his hand into hers and kissed his knuckles. “I got embarrassed and angry earlier, but then I realized you probably didn’t know about the trashy rumors, did you? You had plenty of your own distractions while you were at school.”
Harry smiled a weak apology at her, but he was still confused.
She shook her head and took a deep breath. “You see, so much was said about … about me and Tom… about him possessing me.” A flush crept up Ginny’s neck, and Harry felt a deep frown set in his forehead. “About what he supposedly did to me down in the Chamber – about molesting me and – ”
“What? Wait – what are you saying? Nothing like that happened! Oh shite, nothing like that happened, did it?” Harry felt sick and furious, unable to decide which was stronger.
“No. No.” Ginny comforted him. “I’m sorry, Harry, calm down. Nothing like that ever happened. But it didn’t keep people from talking, did it? Besides, believing rumors is less confusing than trying to understand what really happened.”
Harry’s eyes bugged; he had never thought about Voldemort and her like this before. “But you were just a little girl at the time. That’s, that’s just…”
“You know what thirteen year olds are like: any little bit of gossip to run off with.”
Harry stood and paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair. He knew these things happened, from hearing Muggle news reports. And he had heard stories about the dangers of Knockturn Alley, but he was positive he had never heard anything about Ginny.
“But, but how could anyone have found out about Riddle anyway? Dumbledore never told.” He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“He told Lucius Malfoy, didn’t he? And do you think he kept it to himself? Course not! He didn’t mind setting me up to get killed or opening the Chamber. Why would a little thing like the reputation of a twelve year old ‘blood traitor’ stop him? I’m certain he let it slip to Draco.”
He kneeled in front of her, wrapping his arms around her waist, hugging her tight. “I’m sorry, Gin. I never heard anything like that.”
“No one dared mention it around my brothers, and you were always with Ron, weren’t you? … Hermione knew about it though.”
Ginny looked at the very serious Harry in front of her. The little girl inside her could still see the cute boy she first fell in love with, who had pink cheeks and messy hair and good manners.
But now she saw him with a woman’s eyes. This man who had seen death, and known loss and here he was, on his knees and clinging to her, and he looked so hurt on her behalf.
God, she loved him!
“So, growing up bearing a questionable reputation changed my outlook on a few things. How many girls have to defend that they weren’t de-flowered by a Dark Lord at the tender of eleven? And when boys started taking notice of me, the family reputation set in. Everyone just knew Ginny Weasley had been around.”
“I never thought that of you,” Harry said to her stomach.
“I know.” She kissed his hair, taking note of how good he smelled. “And when I eventually started seeing Paul – ”
“Who?”
Ginny laughed. “The Ravenclaw.”
“Oh, right,” Harry grumbled, burying his head in her belly again.
“I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s important. He and I did do an awful lot together.” Harry made a quiet growling sound. “But I never did sleep with him. Almost did, a number of times, but after having defended my so called ‘honor’ for so long, I just didn’t want to do that with someone I didn’t love.”
“So, you didn’t love him?” Harry felt his spirits lift a little.
“No. He was nice, and decent and good looking and – ”
“Yeah, yeah, I get the picture.”
“But.” Ginny lifted his chin to meet her eyes. “He wasn’t you, Harry, and … I love you.”
Harry looked at her, feeling a peace settling between them.
Somebody loved him. No, Ginny loved him. There were no fireworks, and no magical sparks, just her quiet, simple, heartfelt words.
“I …” He tried to speak, but he was overwhelmed by how much he wanted to say and he didn’t know where to start.
“Shh.” She put her finger over his lips to stop him, and then leaned down to kiss him. “Don’t say anything right now, okay? I didn’t say it just to get you to say it right back. I just wanted you to know. You have my heart; it’s always belonged to you.”
Harry’s smile was so broad he thought he may not be able to properly kiss her, but he as sure as hell was going to try. Maybe he couldn’t manage to speak everything that he wanted to say to her, but his body certainly knew how to communicate with hers.
He stood, pulling her up from the window seat, and turned her around. Laying her back onto the bed, he planted his knees between her legs and lay on top of her as the old thing creaked and bowed.
He reminded himself not to get too carried away. There was, after all, a house full of protective Weasley men just downstairs.
She met his kiss with equal enthusiasm, pulling him closer. The previous hours of upset and anxiety disappeared as their hands roamed over each other in tandem with their amorous tongues.
Her warm mouth welcomed him, and his lips grew wet as they slid over hers. He loved tasting her. He wanted to taste more of her, to distinguish the likeness of her beautiful lips with the soft pink flesh hidden at her center.
Her fingers threaded through his hair as his kisses traveled down her neck, licking at the notch between her collarbones and settling at her cleavage.
“Want more,” he murmured over the swell of her breast.
“Yes, me too, anything.” She unclasped her robes, letting them fall open.
His body was begging him to continue as he rocked his hips against her, aching for release. She wrapped one leg over his backside and arched up into him, leaving no question that she wanted him too.
He boldly ran one hand along the inside of her leg and smiled against her skin when she let it fall open at his touch, the hem of her skirt falling to her waist.
He hadn’t intended to take any risks like this, not here, not today. “You’re impossible for me to resist.”
“Then don’t.” Her voice was breathy and tight, and one hand caressed down his side, teasing over his nipple before she tucked her hand into his waistband, digging her nails into his hipbone.
He wanted her, wanted to be with her, to join her body completely, and yet there was a quiet warning in his head. He felt he now bore some responsibility as her first lover – but he didn’t want to think about that now. She loved him and he had the capacity to give her pleasure, so that’s what he sought after.
As his fingertips trailed over the tendons at the crease of her thigh, so close, he arched his pelvis against the mattress, seeking pressure against the hard bulge trapped in his trousers.
Harry was vaguely aware of a shadow crossing the room and as he raised his head to seek out new freckles to kiss along the inside of her knee, he glanced sideways at the window.
George.
Due to battle tested defense techniques, Harry leapt back off of Ginny and landed hard on his arse on the other side of the bed.
“Fucking hell,” he snarled.
“Harry, what the hell are you -?” Ginny started.
“– George,” Harry groaned and pointed over the edge of the bed at the window.
“Oh for the love of – ” Ginny hopped off the bed and lifted the latch and pushed open the window. “What are you doing out there?” she demanded.
Harry looked over and could see George smirking, astride one of the family broomsticks.
Ignoring Ginny, he ribbed Harry instead.
“You okay down there, mate? Looked like you were doing all right, but falling off the bed, man, that’s poor form.”
“Very funny.”
“George?” Ginny demanded again.
He chuckled. “I’m sorry, but I’m heading home soon, and I just wanted to say ‘bye’.”
“Through the window?”
“More fun than going through the house, yeah.” He shrugged.
Ginny gave him a threatening look.
“Okay, so Fred dared me.”
“Ugh! We’ll be down in a minute.”
“Both of you? ‘Cause from what I saw, it looked like Harry was already headed dow– ” But Ginny slammed the window shut before George could finish, cursing epithets about ‘brothers.’
Harry stood and rearranged his now deflated and frustrated cock. “Splendid. This is all I need.”
“Oh relax, love. George isn’t gonna say anything; he’s got his own problems.” She put her arms around Harry and kissed him. “We’ll just pick up where we left off later, yeah?”
Harry nodded, the promise of continuing later and her declaration of love still strong in his heart as they went downstairs.
As they passed an old photo of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley on their wedding day, Harry decided to bring up something that he’d been thinking about since the morning he took her to see the sunrise.
“Fancy going on a short holiday together?” he asked.
“Really? Where to?”
“Godric’s Hollow. There are a few things I want to show you there.”
“Harry, I’d love to! When should we?” But they were interrupted as Remus and Tonks exited the first floor loo.
“Oh hullo, you two!” Tonks said, wiping her mouth with an extremely cheerful gleam in her eye.
“We were just, er- checking the plumbing,” Remus said lamely, wincing and shaking his head.
Tonks snorted. “Real smooth, Remus. I’m sure they don’t suspect a thing.” She rolled her eyes. “Marauder, my arse.” Tonks grabbed Ginny by the arm and took off with her, both laughing along the way.
The two men were left side by side and rather than making eye contact, they watched their women descend the stairs.
“So, are you and Ginny getting on all right?” Remus asked. Harry thought it interesting that he felt defensive whenever the other men in the house asked questions about their romance; but it made him feel good, and rather grown up, to be asked by his father’s friend.
“Yeah, real well, actually,” Harry said.
“Ah, I’m glad to hear that. I thought I might have detected some trouble brewing between you earlier.”
“Oh, you did,” Harry confirmed, adjusting his glasses. “I can bugger things up without even knowing it.”
Remus chuckled, and put a consoling hand on Harry’s shoulder. “We can all do that, lad. You’re not alone there.”
“Say, do you have a second, Remus? I want to ask your help with something: I’ve been working on some alterations of the Cartography spell you lot used to make the Map.”
“Really?” Remus raised his eyebrows, looking like a professor again. “Now that sounds interesting. I’d be happy to help.”
~^~
After a half hour had passed, Harry and Remus emerged from the house. Remus was off to talk to Bill, and Harry caught sight of Ginny across the garden with the rest of the women.
She gave him a curious look, and he realized he was smiling.
He shook his head and indicated where he was heading; Mr. Weasley and Ron were sitting on the bench next to the table.
“Excuse me, sir,” Harry said, feeling his prior excitement give way to nerves. “I wanted to ask if I could take Ginny on an over night trip to Godric’s Hollow.”
Ron smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked positively bursting to say something.
Harry squinted at him, warning, daring him to say a word.
“Godric’s Hollow then?” Mr. Weasley said. “That’s an interesting choice for a mini- break.”
Harry smiled cautiously. “Yes, sir. I’ve got my land there, as you know, and Ginny has never been, so I thought I’d take her. There’s Mrs. Bentley’s B&B where we could stay.”
“Where you three stayed when you first went away there?”
“That’s the place, yes. She’s a real decent sort. She’d put us up, erm, you know, in separate rooms and all.” Harry felt his insides twist at the implications floating around them, but knew he had to stand his ground.
Harry wasn’t going to acknowledge how Ron’s face was twisting with the desire to make a remark.
“I see, I see,” Mr. Weasley said. “Godric’s Hollow isn’t that large a village. You really think you need two days then?”
“Well, no, you’re right about that. And if you’d rather, we could return at the end of the day. It’s just that there’s something I want to do with Ginny, and I think it may take all night.”
Mr. Weasley smirked. Ron snorted. And Harry crumpled onto the bench and buried his face in his hand.
“Blimey, Harry. You really are rubbish at this,” Ron finally teased, laughing.
“Shut up,” he groaned.
“I don’t think you should let him go, Dad. Sounds pretty dodgy to me.”
Mr. Weasley chuckled. “If he were a slick talker, I might not. But this is the fun part of having a daughter. I never got to see you boys acting like this.”
“I’m sorry, sir. What I meant was –”
“No, that’s quite all right, son. I have no doubt you intended for that to come out better.” They continued to snigger at Harry’s mortification.
“Come on, Dad. You’re letting him off too easy. Aren’t you gonna shake him down a bit more?”
Harry scowled at Ron.
“Should I? Ginny’s of age. I certainly can’t prevent her from going. I didn’t try to stop you from going when you left home the first time, did I?” Ron shrugged. “Harry, I do appreciate the sentiment you are showing in asking my permission, but I can hardly grant what isn’t mine to give. You two kids have a good time, but behave and stay safe, yeah?”
“Absolutely. Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”
“Git,” Ron chided Harry, still protesting.
“But Harry,” Mr. Weasley said, getting up from the table. “I might ask that you please be mindful of Ginny’s reputation? I dare say the girl’s had enough to live down in her life already, eh?”
Harry nodded solemnly. “Of course, sir. I promise.” Harry knew he might not have fully understood the weight of Mr. Weasley’s reference if Ginny hadn’t told him about what was said about her. He patted Harry on the arm and smiled at him. He hesitated, as though he wanted to say more, but seemed to think better of it and merely nodded as he walked off towards the ladies.
Ron was still smirking at him, with his arms crossed, looking fit to torment him further.
“Sod off, you,” Harry warned. “I can’t believe I said that to your dad…” He shook his head and sighed.
“That was great! I love it when you go tits up like that. You’ve been far too serious, mate.”
“I’ve been getting better,” Harry protested.
“Yeah, guess you have. Suppose my sister’s got something to do with that?”
Harry looked across the garden at her and smiled. “Might.”
“So, uh, what are you planning to do with my sister that’s going to take all night long?”
“Can’t tell you, mate. Sorry.”
“Whaddya mean? You tell me everything.”
“Not this time,” Harry said with conviction. Ron got a hurt look on his face. “It’s a surprise, Ron.”
“Come on, I’ve been really good about you two, haven’t I? Have I ever banged on your bedroom door when you two are locked in there for hours?”
Harry huffed and rolled his eyes. He felt Ron glaring at him, and he slowly turned to face him. “What?”
“You’re gonna do it, aren’t you?” Ron asked.
“What? Ron!”
“No! Not that - and you’d better not -I mean, you’re gonna ask her?”
Harry tried to pull his game face and not give Ron any expression; damn him, he always knew what Harry was up to. He was trying to think of a response, but was saved the effort when the screech of an approaching owl caught their attention.
A medium sized, smart looking black owl with a bright orange envelope attached to its leg had landed in the middle of the garden. Everyone had gone quiet. The owl looked around and made an annoyed hoot.
All of the family’s post was pre-sorted and brought by a familiar owl these days: a precaution put into place by the Ministry and the Order after Hedwig was murdered. No one in the family, Harry included, accepted post from an unknown owl.
Remus surreptitiously cleared his throat and moved forward with his wand out. Bill followed, and Mr. Weasley moved in as well. Remus circled his wand over the messenger and the letter and when the cautionary spell revealed nothing sinister, he freed the bird from its burden and it flew off, clearly offended by the treatment it had received.
“It’s for Ron,” Remus said, handing it out to him. “It’s safe.”
Ron took it in his hand and shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry, everyone.”
Hermione joined him on his other side as he tore the seal open, and she looked on as he read it.
Ron’s eyes went wide, and he gasped. Hermione let out a high-pitched squeak. They looked at each other, and Hermione threw her arms around his neck, laughing.
“All right, what’s goin’ on?” Ginny demanded.
“I’d like to know that myself,” Mrs. Weasley said from behind her, the rest of the family now moving in.
Ron and Hermione broke their embrace, and both had wet eyes and wide smiles.
Ron let out an awkward giggle before he spoke. “Erm, Redwald Blake has decided to retire.” He gestured with the letter in his hand. “ … I’m officially the first string Keeper for the Cannons.”
~^~ Continue to Chapter Eight
A/N - I’d like to thank my betas, MrsPadfoot, for the constant support and encouragement, and Belovedranger for her quick and very skillful work. This story is lucky that I have them!
I am so grateful for the comments and enthusiasm I’ve received. I’m really enjoying taking Harry and Ginny on this little adventure with all of you.
Stay tuned to find out what happens on their holiday – just the two of them!
Chapter Seven - Getting Better
~^~
She jutted out her chin and looked at him through squinted eyes, a suspicious look on her face.
“You mean, after these past few weeks together, you really don’t know?” Ginny didn’t look particularly angry, but there was a shift in her tone that set off a warning in his head.
He swallowed, and something in his throat felt twitchy. Where his fingers once had been making methodic circles along the backs of her arms, he now began anxious rubbing. “Well I didn’t think it was necessary to bring it up. I didn’t want you to, I dunno, be uncomfortable, or feel bad about it or anything.” There, he thought, relaxing. Avoided that mess.
But he felt her stiffen under his hands, and she pulled away sharply.
“And what would I have to feel bad about?”
“Nothing! Not at all – I didn’t mean that. I just meant that since you had been so great about me-” Harry ruffled the back of his hair and tugged on his collar. “ – about my, er, history, that I wasn’t going to say anything about your history. It’s really okay with me.”
But the look on her face told him in an instant that he had made things worse. Ginny took in a quick breath, and she seemed to grow twice her size.
“Oh you’re “okay” with it, are you?”
“Uhm.” Harry had thought he was doing the right thing, but he was clearly fouling this up. “Yes?”
Ginny abruptly pushed him away from her and hopped off the wall, and though she was a head shorter than him she looked none too small now. He felt his own defensive anger build in him.
“Well, you’ve got some bollocks, Potter. Telling me I’ve – and you – you.” She looked too angry to speak.
“Hang on. There’s no need to get your wand bent. I didn’t mean that it was something you should be ashamed of – ”
But Ginny gasped and Harry shut up, realizing he was only making things worse. He didn’t understand why she got so upset when he was being so understanding, but it also made him angry.
He hadn’t done anything wrong, he insisted to himself.
But it didn’t seem to matter. One minute he was laughing and snogging his girl, and the next minute she had walked away from him without a word.
~^~
Ginny sat rather ungracefully at the bench along the table, chin propped on her hand, poking the pulp of a watermelon repeatedly with a spoon.
A tense meal and a few hours had passed and Ginny’s anger at Harry had dissipated, and now she was left with guilt. It wasn’t really Harry’s fault after all.
Ron grabbed a strand of her hair, giving it a sharp tug as he straddled the bench facing her. She screwed up her face from the mild pain of the pull, but wouldn’t give Ron the satisfaction of hearing her wince about it.
“What’s going on, little sister?” he asked.
“Not a thing,” she said rubbing her head and giving him a shrewd look. Ron’s nose was slightly red, as were his eyes. “Ron …Are you drunk?”
“Nah,” he protested, trying to rest his chin on his hand and missing. “A little pissed, yeah – not drunk.”
Ginny shook her head and huffed at him.
“Come on, tell me,” he urged, reaching to pull her hair again.
“No.” She batted his hand away. “’S none of your business.”
“Oy. If there’s anything that’s my business, it’s you n’ ‘arry.”
“You really don’t want to know. I promise you,” she said, taking a napkin to wipe the mashed potato that he had just leaned into off his elbow.
“Yes, I do. I mean, unless it’s about, you know, the sex or something.”
Ginny snorted. “Well, it is.”
Ron winced and sucked breath between his teeth. Then he scrubbed his large hand over his face and rubbed his eyes hard.
“Okay then. What can I tell you? Is he rubbish? Do I need to give my mate some advice?” He had a wicked gleam in his bright eyes.
“Ron.” She giggled. “Shut up! We’re not having ‘the sex,’ so you’re off the hook.”
“Oh, good.” Ron looked relieved, but then frowned. “Then how can you be arguing about sex if you’re not having it? …Wait a minute – he’s not pressuring you, is he?” He broke into a very Fred-like grin. “Want me to wupp him? He’s scrappy, but I can do it.”
“Will you stuff it already? You know Harry better than that. Of course not.”
Ron appeared deep in thought as his bloodshot eyes darted back and forth for a moment before fixing on her again.
“I don’t get it then.”
Ginny sighed. “I said it was nothing. Harry was just being stupid.”
“Oh. Well, I’ve no doubt about that; he can be thick sometimes.” Ginny smiled, but Ron grew slightly more serious. “So, did you yell at him?”
“No. I didn’t want to be like that. I was very careful not to yell at him.”
“Ah, that’s it, then,” Ron said.
“What? I was trying to be nice and not fly off like Mum.”
“Yeah, but Harry doesn’t deal with ‘silent-angry.’ ‘Yelling-angry,’ that he understands. He’s good in a proper fight. You wanna yell and trade insults, he’ll meet you blow for blow, but if you give him the silent treatment-” Ron sighed. “Makes him nervous when people he loves don’t talk to him.”
Ginny met her brother’s earnest face with a wary smirk. Funny that Ron would say it before either of them.
“Yeah, he loves you. I’m sure of it.” He raised an eyebrow and nodded, giving her a gentle shove. “Love him?”
Ginny bit her lip, and crinkled her nose, but smiled. She couldn’t tell Ron what she hadn’t even told Harry himself yet.
Ron smiled and reached for her hair again, causing her to flinch. But instead of pulling it, he patted her head affectionately, and pulled her into his shoulder in an awkward half-hug.
~^~
Harry was throwing rocks at an old tree stump when Hermione joined him. He looked at her with a half-hearted warning, knowing she had come to talk, and she gave him an innocent look.
She picked up a stone and tried her turn at hitting the stump. It landed about eight feet away. Harry chuckled.
“You held onto it too long,” Harry said. “Let go when your arm is fully extended.”
Hermione pursed her lips and huffed, as though she couldn’t care less about learning how to toss a rock across a field, but she couldn’t resist the challenge either.
Her next rock almost made it.
“Quick study,” Harry noted, zinging another.
“Harry, are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” she finally asked tersely.
“Nothing’s wrong. Why?” He had to at least make an effort to play it off.
“Because you are showing me how to throw rocks, instead of sitting back there with your girlfriend.”
Harry deflated a little. His landed with a thunk, well short of its target.
He looked at Hermione for a moment before speaking.
“Not much point in trying to keep anything from you, is there? I guess me and Ginny had our first row.”
“Only your first?” Hermione asked, sounding incredulous.
“Well, we argue about stuff all the time, you know, like about the Muggle Protection Act or the Auror’s Use of Force policy. Things like that. …This was different.”
“How was this different?”
Harry sighed, rolling the rock between his fingers. “This was personal, intimately personal. She didn’t even stand and yell at me; she just walked away.”
“I see. But, Harry, you didn’t find it …exciting, at all?”
Harry snorted and licked his bottom lip. “No. I felt like I might throw up.”
“Oh,” Hermione said simply.
Harry grinned. “You two really get off on the fighting, don’t you?”
“What?”
“You heard me. Perverts, the both of you! And I’m supposed to take advice from you?” Harry chided, nudging her with his elbow.
“Harry!” Hermione blushed and giggled, then added quietly, “Making up is fun too.”
He snorted as he put his arm around her shoulder, resting his head against hers. He was still a little light-headed from Charlie’s Romanian Whisky, and found that his heart was sitting right in his throat.
“Everyone here has their own dragons to deal with, Harry. Ginny’s no different than the rest of us.”
“Mmm, you might be right about that,” Harry agreed.
Hermione tutted, as though there could be any other possibility.
~^~
Harry and Hermione entered the garden hand in hand, and Ginny got up from the table where she was sitting with Ron.
As always, Harry was compelled to follow her. He was helpless against the magnetic force of nature that drew him towards her. It was simply in his blood.
He gave Hermione’s hand a squeeze as she went off to Ron, who was grinning at her with glazed eyes.
Ginny caught his eye, looking over her shoulder at him momentarily, and then she was gone from his view as she entered the house.
When he passed through the kitchen, he saw a glimpse of her hair swinging around the corner as she went up.
He passed the family clock, each family member’s hand quite unusually sitting in one location.
Climbing the stairs two at a time, his muscle memory started to take him all the way up to Ron’s room. But he stopped with his foot on the stair as he got to the third floor landing, a blaze of color in the open door catching his attention. Ginny’s room, of course: he wasn’t accustomed to going there.
He pushed the door open and paused for moment, by way of announcing his presence before entering, and then pushed the door shut behind him. Maybe another day he would take his time to enjoy what he saw in Ginny’s bedroom: the posters on the wall, the clothes on the floor, her treasures on the chest of drawers, all of which were insignificant when compared to the actual woman in front of him.
She was sitting in the window seat, with her back against one wall and her knees pulled up to her chest.
He took up a seat opposite her, mirroring her pose as well as his long legs would allow. With his elbows resting on his bent knees, his hands hanging in front of him, their fingers were nearly touching.
Just another hair closer and, there, their fingertips touched. Who knew that fingertips could communicate so much?
Ginny finally broke the silence.
“It’s embarrassing,” she said with a simple shrug, looking at him briefly before looking back out the window. “When you made that assumption, I got embarrassed.”
Harry’s eyebrows shot up. “I haven’t seen you get embarrassed in years.” Harry felt the defensive knot he had built up in gut begin to subside, and he shook her hand playfully.
Ginny snorted.
“No, really. You just laugh things off. You never get wound up about things like Ron does.”
“I suppose I grew thick skin to a lot of stuff.”
“What’d you need a ‘thick skin’ for? You were popular, and smart and pretty, and – ”
“Bah!” Ginny frowned and scrunched up her face. “What does ‘popular’ really mean anyway? I had people to sit with on the train? Who cares about that? So a lot of people knew me.”
“Well yeah, you always had friends.”
“I had people to talk to, sure. You know who my real friends were: Hermione, Luna. I was the last of seven Weasleys; I had a reputation before I even got to school. And you know the reputation we have, the male Weasleys in particular. Every one is randy and fertile or some shite. Which is all well and good for wizards, isn’t it? Good for a laugh with the blokes. And even a complete arse like Percy always had a girl on line, didn’t he?”
Harry snickered. If he had ever doubted this was true, the conversation led by Fred and Charlie earlier would have confirmed it.
“And not getting married ‘til late in life, like Bill, or not at all like the other boys who are still running around wild. At least Ron getting married young went a little ways to please the old fashioned types.”
Harry rolled his eyes, but nodded in agreement.
“Well, the same reputation isn’t very flattering for a witch, is it? No, the same thing said about a girl makes her a slag. You add that to the whole thing that happened in my first year. Well…”
Harry squinted and puckered his lips, trying to reconcile her bearing the Weasley reputation with what happened to her during her first year.
Ginny sighed, and the sound turned into a quiet giggle. She leaned forwards and took his hand into hers and kissed his knuckles. “I got embarrassed and angry earlier, but then I realized you probably didn’t know about the trashy rumors, did you? You had plenty of your own distractions while you were at school.”
Harry smiled a weak apology at her, but he was still confused.
She shook her head and took a deep breath. “You see, so much was said about … about me and Tom… about him possessing me.” A flush crept up Ginny’s neck, and Harry felt a deep frown set in his forehead. “About what he supposedly did to me down in the Chamber – about molesting me and – ”
“What? Wait – what are you saying? Nothing like that happened! Oh shite, nothing like that happened, did it?” Harry felt sick and furious, unable to decide which was stronger.
“No. No.” Ginny comforted him. “I’m sorry, Harry, calm down. Nothing like that ever happened. But it didn’t keep people from talking, did it? Besides, believing rumors is less confusing than trying to understand what really happened.”
Harry’s eyes bugged; he had never thought about Voldemort and her like this before. “But you were just a little girl at the time. That’s, that’s just…”
“You know what thirteen year olds are like: any little bit of gossip to run off with.”
Harry stood and paced back and forth, running his hands through his hair. He knew these things happened, from hearing Muggle news reports. And he had heard stories about the dangers of Knockturn Alley, but he was positive he had never heard anything about Ginny.
“But, but how could anyone have found out about Riddle anyway? Dumbledore never told.” He took his glasses off and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
“He told Lucius Malfoy, didn’t he? And do you think he kept it to himself? Course not! He didn’t mind setting me up to get killed or opening the Chamber. Why would a little thing like the reputation of a twelve year old ‘blood traitor’ stop him? I’m certain he let it slip to Draco.”
He kneeled in front of her, wrapping his arms around her waist, hugging her tight. “I’m sorry, Gin. I never heard anything like that.”
“No one dared mention it around my brothers, and you were always with Ron, weren’t you? … Hermione knew about it though.”
Ginny looked at the very serious Harry in front of her. The little girl inside her could still see the cute boy she first fell in love with, who had pink cheeks and messy hair and good manners.
But now she saw him with a woman’s eyes. This man who had seen death, and known loss and here he was, on his knees and clinging to her, and he looked so hurt on her behalf.
God, she loved him!
“So, growing up bearing a questionable reputation changed my outlook on a few things. How many girls have to defend that they weren’t de-flowered by a Dark Lord at the tender of eleven? And when boys started taking notice of me, the family reputation set in. Everyone just knew Ginny Weasley had been around.”
“I never thought that of you,” Harry said to her stomach.
“I know.” She kissed his hair, taking note of how good he smelled. “And when I eventually started seeing Paul – ”
“Who?”
Ginny laughed. “The Ravenclaw.”
“Oh, right,” Harry grumbled, burying his head in her belly again.
“I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s important. He and I did do an awful lot together.” Harry made a quiet growling sound. “But I never did sleep with him. Almost did, a number of times, but after having defended my so called ‘honor’ for so long, I just didn’t want to do that with someone I didn’t love.”
“So, you didn’t love him?” Harry felt his spirits lift a little.
“No. He was nice, and decent and good looking and – ”
“Yeah, yeah, I get the picture.”
“But.” Ginny lifted his chin to meet her eyes. “He wasn’t you, Harry, and … I love you.”
Harry looked at her, feeling a peace settling between them.
Somebody loved him. No, Ginny loved him. There were no fireworks, and no magical sparks, just her quiet, simple, heartfelt words.
“I …” He tried to speak, but he was overwhelmed by how much he wanted to say and he didn’t know where to start.
“Shh.” She put her finger over his lips to stop him, and then leaned down to kiss him. “Don’t say anything right now, okay? I didn’t say it just to get you to say it right back. I just wanted you to know. You have my heart; it’s always belonged to you.”
Harry’s smile was so broad he thought he may not be able to properly kiss her, but he as sure as hell was going to try. Maybe he couldn’t manage to speak everything that he wanted to say to her, but his body certainly knew how to communicate with hers.
He stood, pulling her up from the window seat, and turned her around. Laying her back onto the bed, he planted his knees between her legs and lay on top of her as the old thing creaked and bowed.
He reminded himself not to get too carried away. There was, after all, a house full of protective Weasley men just downstairs.
She met his kiss with equal enthusiasm, pulling him closer. The previous hours of upset and anxiety disappeared as their hands roamed over each other in tandem with their amorous tongues.
Her warm mouth welcomed him, and his lips grew wet as they slid over hers. He loved tasting her. He wanted to taste more of her, to distinguish the likeness of her beautiful lips with the soft pink flesh hidden at her center.
Her fingers threaded through his hair as his kisses traveled down her neck, licking at the notch between her collarbones and settling at her cleavage.
“Want more,” he murmured over the swell of her breast.
“Yes, me too, anything.” She unclasped her robes, letting them fall open.
His body was begging him to continue as he rocked his hips against her, aching for release. She wrapped one leg over his backside and arched up into him, leaving no question that she wanted him too.
He boldly ran one hand along the inside of her leg and smiled against her skin when she let it fall open at his touch, the hem of her skirt falling to her waist.
He hadn’t intended to take any risks like this, not here, not today. “You’re impossible for me to resist.”
“Then don’t.” Her voice was breathy and tight, and one hand caressed down his side, teasing over his nipple before she tucked her hand into his waistband, digging her nails into his hipbone.
He wanted her, wanted to be with her, to join her body completely, and yet there was a quiet warning in his head. He felt he now bore some responsibility as her first lover – but he didn’t want to think about that now. She loved him and he had the capacity to give her pleasure, so that’s what he sought after.
As his fingertips trailed over the tendons at the crease of her thigh, so close, he arched his pelvis against the mattress, seeking pressure against the hard bulge trapped in his trousers.
Harry was vaguely aware of a shadow crossing the room and as he raised his head to seek out new freckles to kiss along the inside of her knee, he glanced sideways at the window.
George.
Due to battle tested defense techniques, Harry leapt back off of Ginny and landed hard on his arse on the other side of the bed.
“Fucking hell,” he snarled.
“Harry, what the hell are you -?” Ginny started.
“– George,” Harry groaned and pointed over the edge of the bed at the window.
“Oh for the love of – ” Ginny hopped off the bed and lifted the latch and pushed open the window. “What are you doing out there?” she demanded.
Harry looked over and could see George smirking, astride one of the family broomsticks.
Ignoring Ginny, he ribbed Harry instead.
“You okay down there, mate? Looked like you were doing all right, but falling off the bed, man, that’s poor form.”
“Very funny.”
“George?” Ginny demanded again.
He chuckled. “I’m sorry, but I’m heading home soon, and I just wanted to say ‘bye’.”
“Through the window?”
“More fun than going through the house, yeah.” He shrugged.
Ginny gave him a threatening look.
“Okay, so Fred dared me.”
“Ugh! We’ll be down in a minute.”
“Both of you? ‘Cause from what I saw, it looked like Harry was already headed dow– ” But Ginny slammed the window shut before George could finish, cursing epithets about ‘brothers.’
Harry stood and rearranged his now deflated and frustrated cock. “Splendid. This is all I need.”
“Oh relax, love. George isn’t gonna say anything; he’s got his own problems.” She put her arms around Harry and kissed him. “We’ll just pick up where we left off later, yeah?”
Harry nodded, the promise of continuing later and her declaration of love still strong in his heart as they went downstairs.
As they passed an old photo of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley on their wedding day, Harry decided to bring up something that he’d been thinking about since the morning he took her to see the sunrise.
“Fancy going on a short holiday together?” he asked.
“Really? Where to?”
“Godric’s Hollow. There are a few things I want to show you there.”
“Harry, I’d love to! When should we?” But they were interrupted as Remus and Tonks exited the first floor loo.
“Oh hullo, you two!” Tonks said, wiping her mouth with an extremely cheerful gleam in her eye.
“We were just, er- checking the plumbing,” Remus said lamely, wincing and shaking his head.
Tonks snorted. “Real smooth, Remus. I’m sure they don’t suspect a thing.” She rolled her eyes. “Marauder, my arse.” Tonks grabbed Ginny by the arm and took off with her, both laughing along the way.
The two men were left side by side and rather than making eye contact, they watched their women descend the stairs.
“So, are you and Ginny getting on all right?” Remus asked. Harry thought it interesting that he felt defensive whenever the other men in the house asked questions about their romance; but it made him feel good, and rather grown up, to be asked by his father’s friend.
“Yeah, real well, actually,” Harry said.
“Ah, I’m glad to hear that. I thought I might have detected some trouble brewing between you earlier.”
“Oh, you did,” Harry confirmed, adjusting his glasses. “I can bugger things up without even knowing it.”
Remus chuckled, and put a consoling hand on Harry’s shoulder. “We can all do that, lad. You’re not alone there.”
“Say, do you have a second, Remus? I want to ask your help with something: I’ve been working on some alterations of the Cartography spell you lot used to make the Map.”
“Really?” Remus raised his eyebrows, looking like a professor again. “Now that sounds interesting. I’d be happy to help.”
~^~
After a half hour had passed, Harry and Remus emerged from the house. Remus was off to talk to Bill, and Harry caught sight of Ginny across the garden with the rest of the women.
She gave him a curious look, and he realized he was smiling.
He shook his head and indicated where he was heading; Mr. Weasley and Ron were sitting on the bench next to the table.
“Excuse me, sir,” Harry said, feeling his prior excitement give way to nerves. “I wanted to ask if I could take Ginny on an over night trip to Godric’s Hollow.”
Ron smirked and crossed his arms over his chest. He looked positively bursting to say something.
Harry squinted at him, warning, daring him to say a word.
“Godric’s Hollow then?” Mr. Weasley said. “That’s an interesting choice for a mini- break.”
Harry smiled cautiously. “Yes, sir. I’ve got my land there, as you know, and Ginny has never been, so I thought I’d take her. There’s Mrs. Bentley’s B&B where we could stay.”
“Where you three stayed when you first went away there?”
“That’s the place, yes. She’s a real decent sort. She’d put us up, erm, you know, in separate rooms and all.” Harry felt his insides twist at the implications floating around them, but knew he had to stand his ground.
Harry wasn’t going to acknowledge how Ron’s face was twisting with the desire to make a remark.
“I see, I see,” Mr. Weasley said. “Godric’s Hollow isn’t that large a village. You really think you need two days then?”
“Well, no, you’re right about that. And if you’d rather, we could return at the end of the day. It’s just that there’s something I want to do with Ginny, and I think it may take all night.”
Mr. Weasley smirked. Ron snorted. And Harry crumpled onto the bench and buried his face in his hand.
“Blimey, Harry. You really are rubbish at this,” Ron finally teased, laughing.
“Shut up,” he groaned.
“I don’t think you should let him go, Dad. Sounds pretty dodgy to me.”
Mr. Weasley chuckled. “If he were a slick talker, I might not. But this is the fun part of having a daughter. I never got to see you boys acting like this.”
“I’m sorry, sir. What I meant was –”
“No, that’s quite all right, son. I have no doubt you intended for that to come out better.” They continued to snigger at Harry’s mortification.
“Come on, Dad. You’re letting him off too easy. Aren’t you gonna shake him down a bit more?”
Harry scowled at Ron.
“Should I? Ginny’s of age. I certainly can’t prevent her from going. I didn’t try to stop you from going when you left home the first time, did I?” Ron shrugged. “Harry, I do appreciate the sentiment you are showing in asking my permission, but I can hardly grant what isn’t mine to give. You two kids have a good time, but behave and stay safe, yeah?”
“Absolutely. Thank you, sir. I appreciate that.”
“Git,” Ron chided Harry, still protesting.
“But Harry,” Mr. Weasley said, getting up from the table. “I might ask that you please be mindful of Ginny’s reputation? I dare say the girl’s had enough to live down in her life already, eh?”
Harry nodded solemnly. “Of course, sir. I promise.” Harry knew he might not have fully understood the weight of Mr. Weasley’s reference if Ginny hadn’t told him about what was said about her. He patted Harry on the arm and smiled at him. He hesitated, as though he wanted to say more, but seemed to think better of it and merely nodded as he walked off towards the ladies.
Ron was still smirking at him, with his arms crossed, looking fit to torment him further.
“Sod off, you,” Harry warned. “I can’t believe I said that to your dad…” He shook his head and sighed.
“That was great! I love it when you go tits up like that. You’ve been far too serious, mate.”
“I’ve been getting better,” Harry protested.
“Yeah, guess you have. Suppose my sister’s got something to do with that?”
Harry looked across the garden at her and smiled. “Might.”
“So, uh, what are you planning to do with my sister that’s going to take all night long?”
“Can’t tell you, mate. Sorry.”
“Whaddya mean? You tell me everything.”
“Not this time,” Harry said with conviction. Ron got a hurt look on his face. “It’s a surprise, Ron.”
“Come on, I’ve been really good about you two, haven’t I? Have I ever banged on your bedroom door when you two are locked in there for hours?”
Harry huffed and rolled his eyes. He felt Ron glaring at him, and he slowly turned to face him. “What?”
“You’re gonna do it, aren’t you?” Ron asked.
“What? Ron!”
“No! Not that - and you’d better not -I mean, you’re gonna ask her?”
Harry tried to pull his game face and not give Ron any expression; damn him, he always knew what Harry was up to. He was trying to think of a response, but was saved the effort when the screech of an approaching owl caught their attention.
A medium sized, smart looking black owl with a bright orange envelope attached to its leg had landed in the middle of the garden. Everyone had gone quiet. The owl looked around and made an annoyed hoot.
All of the family’s post was pre-sorted and brought by a familiar owl these days: a precaution put into place by the Ministry and the Order after Hedwig was murdered. No one in the family, Harry included, accepted post from an unknown owl.
Remus surreptitiously cleared his throat and moved forward with his wand out. Bill followed, and Mr. Weasley moved in as well. Remus circled his wand over the messenger and the letter and when the cautionary spell revealed nothing sinister, he freed the bird from its burden and it flew off, clearly offended by the treatment it had received.
“It’s for Ron,” Remus said, handing it out to him. “It’s safe.”
Ron took it in his hand and shrugged sheepishly. “Sorry, everyone.”
Hermione joined him on his other side as he tore the seal open, and she looked on as he read it.
Ron’s eyes went wide, and he gasped. Hermione let out a high-pitched squeak. They looked at each other, and Hermione threw her arms around his neck, laughing.
“All right, what’s goin’ on?” Ginny demanded.
“I’d like to know that myself,” Mrs. Weasley said from behind her, the rest of the family now moving in.
Ron and Hermione broke their embrace, and both had wet eyes and wide smiles.
Ron let out an awkward giggle before he spoke. “Erm, Redwald Blake has decided to retire.” He gestured with the letter in his hand. “ … I’m officially the first string Keeper for the Cannons.”
~^~ Continue to Chapter Eight
A/N - I’d like to thank my betas, MrsPadfoot, for the constant support and encouragement, and Belovedranger for her quick and very skillful work. This story is lucky that I have them!
I am so grateful for the comments and enthusiasm I’ve received. I’m really enjoying taking Harry and Ginny on this little adventure with all of you.
Stay tuned to find out what happens on their holiday – just the two of them!
