Journeying Beyond Words

Chapter Three

Rapturous

Ginny lay sprawled out on her bed, eyes closed, letter from Harry on her stomach. Her lips were curled in the happiest smile she had felt for a long time.

She rolled over and glanced out of the window. Clouds were floating lazily by, and her smile became even broader. She watched, grinning, as a garden bird landed on her windowsill, chattering away. She opened the window slowly, beckoning to the bird. Cautiously, the bird hopped toward her.

Still smiling, Ginny held out a finger. The bird hopped closer and closer, and finally, hopped onto her finger, chatting away at her.

Ginny giggled. "It is indeed a beautiful day! I agree!" She replaced the bird on the windowsill, and left the window slightly ajar.

Ginny snuggled back into the pillows on her bed with a contented sigh. Glancing down at the letter on her stomach, she contemplated opening it.

Taking the plunge, Ginny took an ornate knife from her desk that her father insisted that Muggles used to open letters. Ginny eased the blade of the knife under the seal and slit through it. To her surprise, it actually worked. She'd have to report that to her father at dinnertime, he'd be pleased. He was easily pleased with all Muggle contraptions that worked.

Ginny gently uncurled the letter and settled back into the pillows on her bed to read. She savoured the smell of the parchment and the not-quite-dry ink. She smiled at the hastily written date, and the script of Harry's first words, "Dear Ginny."

There came an abrupt knock at the door. Startled, Ginny shoved the parchment under her pillow, and, straightening her bedspread, she called, "Yes?"

The door opened slowly, and Ron poked his head around the doorframe.

"Hey, Ginny, what're you doing today?" Ron asked casually.

Ginny frowned at her brother.

"I'm busy today. Why?"

"What are you going to be busy doing?" Ron asked innocently.

"None of your business!" Ginny snapped, fully suspicious of Ron's motives for interruption.

"I was only asking!" Ron said hotly, before slamming the door and thumping all the way down the stairs, probably to complain to their mother.

Ginny heaved a sigh and retrieved Harry's letter from under her pillow. She smoothed the creases, muttering to herself about useless, interfering brothers.

Ginny took a deep breath, and read the letter aloud to herself.

"Dear Ginny. Glad to hear from you! Yeah, I'm having a fairly awful time at the Dursleys' this summer. They've locked me in my room with only Hedwig for company, and she's not even here half the time. Lucky bird! I'd like to be soaring all over the countryside without a care. Still, that means that it's been quiet and uneventful here so that's something to be thankful for. I haven't talked to Dudley in over a month, and that's always something to celebrate."

Ginny giggled to herself. She closed her eyes, remembering the time that Fred and George had given Dudley a sweet from their stock of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes collection. The poor boy didn't know what hit him!

"Aunt Petunia always puts some sort of food in here morning and night, so really, I shouldn't complain. I've got Hedwig, food, peace and quiet, regularly scheduled bathroom intervals and heaps of free time to study for next year at Hogwarts. Of course I'd rather be hanging out with my friends and having fun but at least the teachers'll be pleased that I've finally caught up on all the things that I should've known at the beginning of last year.

"You said that you broke your wrist - I was sorry to hear that, Gin, are you okay now? Breaking (or losing!) bones is never fun. Did your parents have to take you to St. Mungo's to get it fixed or can they perform healing spells? (A good thing you didn't have Gilderoy Lockheart there, much as your mum would've enjoyed it!). Muggles have to get their wrist put in a plaster cast and wait weeks for it to heal naturally so at least you got the wizarding option!"

Ginny smiled and rubbed her wrist ruefully. It was almost totally normal now. It still twinged occasionally, but the doctor said that was a side effect of healing with magic, and that it'd probably be worse if she let it heal naturally. She'd been quite interested to learn that some Muggles can predict the rain when their once-broken joints ache. She'd hoped that her wrist might demonstrate some weather forecasting abilities now but no luck yet.

"You mentioned Quidditch - now there's something I miss. I wish I could have been there with you, Fred and George."

"Oh, don't you worry, Harry, I wish that too." Ginny grinned cheekily to herself.

"I always worry that I will have lost my touch with Quidditch over summer break but my broomstick always remembers me and I need to only soar into the air to feel at one with it all again. Amazing how sometimes something can feel so right, isn't it?"

"Isn't it just," Ginny remarked to herself, glancing at her reflection momentarily as she looked at a picture of herself, Harry, Ron and Hermione at the train station before last summer break that she'd stuck in the frame of her mirror. She was surprised to see that she looked a little wistful.

"So, you said that Hermione will be coming to stay with you guys a week before you go to London. That's great. I'm sure that'll be a lot of fun for you all. I'm not sure how I'm getting to London yet. Uncle Vernon is never too pleased when I have to ask him to take me, but I guess as he hasn't seen me for most of the break, he'll be a bit more lenient.

"I have to say that I've been feeling really homesick lately for Hogwarts and for all you guys. I can't wait until it's time to go back. Well, less than four weeks to go, which is always a bonus. I was really pleased to receive your letter just now, Ginny; it's been so boring and lonely here without someone to talk to properly. Write back to me soon, will you? I'd really appreciate it. Thanks, Ginny. You're a pal. Cheers. Love Harry."

Ginny sighed rapturously, clutching the letter to her chest. Soon, she opened her eyes and reached for her quill. A thought occurred to her.

"Surely I won't seem to eager if I write back straight away?" Ginny asked her reflection. "I don't want to seem desperate or as if I've got nothing better to do than sit around and wait for Harry's letters. I mean, I don't, but he doesn't have to know that. Oh--I don't know..."

Ginny's reflection yielded no answers. Ginny stared at it longer, hoping it'd speak out and tell her that it wasn't too soon to reply.

Ginny gave up and picked up her quill decisively.

"It won't be too early to reply. He said he's bored and lonely, and I'll be doing a charitable thing, to ease his boredom," Ginny reasoned. "Yes. He'll be thankful, not suspicious."

There came a thump at the door. Ginny dropped her quill in fright at the sound. She sighed in annoyance at the interruption.

"What?"

"It's only me!" Ron's response came. "Mum wants you to help her in the kitchen!"

"I'll do it later!" Ginny hollered back.

"You won't!" Ron threatened, banging against the door. "Mum said to get you to help NOW!"

Ginny got off her bed and stalked angrily to the door, whipping it open and glaring at Ron.

"Why can't YOU do it?" Ginny roared at her brother.

"Because YOU HAVE TO DO IT!" Ron roared back.

"Ronald! Virginia!" Molly Weasley's voice came drifting up the stairs. "Stop it at once!"

Ron poked his tongue out at Ginny and walked down the stairs, singing softly, "You have to he-elp, you have to he-elp..."

Ginny slammed her door in disgust.

"NOW!" Ron hollered.

"ALRIGHT!" Ginny screamed back. She slumped back against the door, fighting tears, her throat aching. She wanted so badly to write back to Harry. She rubbed her eyes and winced as a tear slipped down her cheek. She swallowed shakily and wanted to scream at the throbbing ache in her throat.

"Alright..." Ginny whispered, her voice thick. She turned, opened the door and left the room.

~ ~ ~

Chapter Four

Tickled Pink

Three days later, Harry was sprawled on his bed, frowning over his Potions essay.

"... Cite three different potions in which wolfsbane is used and describe the positive and negative effects that it has on the potion, from where it originates and how much of it is considered excessive."

Harry groaned. "Surely that has to be the single-most boring and mundane essay topic Snape's given us yet, the old bat." His brow creased as he remembered a particularly nasty one from third year. "Ugh. Maybe not."

Harry yawned and stretched. He looked at Hedwig's empty cage.

"Gone still! Wretched, lucky bird," Harry muttered. "If only to spread my wings and fly all over the night sky..."

Glancing out at the window, Harry noticed that the clouds had darkened and the sky seemed foreboding. He shivered and started to draw the curtains before noticing a speck in the sky, gradually coming closer towards him.

Harry frowned, and squinted, trying to make out the shape. Snowy white and moving quickly... Hedwig! Back! He opened the window quickly and quietly, trying to contain his excitement. Hedwig back so soon could only mean one thing; mail!

Hedwig swooped into the room and landed on Harry's bed, chattering away quietly. Harry shut the window, turned and grinned at Hedwig.

"You got something there for me, old girl?" Harry asked her.

Hedwig ruffled her feathers, shaking off some beads of water she had acquired during the journey and extended one leg. Harry knelt beside her and gently untied the roll of parchment. Hedwig gratefully stretched her leg before hopping into her cage and settling in for the night.

Harry unrolled the parchment and smiled. Ginny. He lay back on his bed, squashing his Potions notes and not really caring. He absently wound some hair around his finger as he read, smiling occasionally. Hedwig observed all this from her cage and decided not to bother.

"Harry. You're right, we probably haven't spoken so much in our entire lives before but hey, it gives me something to do and surely it gives you a good excuse to get away from icky essays. I've got a pretty bad one from McGonagall at the moment that I just can't seem to start. I s'pose I'd better start soon or I'll run out of holidays in which to do it. I got a letter from Hermione yesterday saying that she'd finished her all homework and was going over it with a thesaurus, trying to figure out which words she could substitute for more intelligent sounding ones. I replied and suggested that she get a hobby. Bet she won't take too kindly to that one..."

Harry reached out and tickled Hedwig under her chin, his cheeks unusually flushed.

Hedwig opened her beak and tried to nip at him in annoyance.

"Sorry!" Harry laughed.

Hedwig closed her eyes, ignoring Harry.

Harry contemplated the letter in front of him. He reached for his quill.

~ ~ ~

Nine days later at The Burrow

"But, Mum!" Ron protested loudly. "He hasn't replied! I vote we go get him."

Molly hung up her coat on the peg in the hall with a sigh. She turned to look at an irate Ron.

"Ronald. How many times must I repeat myself? You're making a mountain out of a molehill." Molly took off her boots and walked briskly toward the kitchen. "Really, from the way you were acting, you'd think that Harry had committed a cardinal sin."

"He hasn't replied to my letter!" Ron replied in an injured tone.

Molly rolled her eyes and went to check the oven. "Hmm..." She opened the door and gingerly tested the top of the cake with a skewer. "Another ten minutes, I think."

Ron had followed Molly into the kitchen, glowering. "I'm beginning to think that he needs to be rescued so he can have some fun during the holidays."

Molly opened the fridge. "Why? Just because he hasn't replied to your letter? Where has George put the milk?"

Ron cast his eyes around the kitchen before replying. "It's on the sink. And yes, because he hasn't replied. He might be stuck doing chores at the Dursleys' house or something! Or... or... maybe he's being forced to hang out with his cousin, and hasn't had a moment to himself to reply! Or..."

"Why is it on the sink? Oh, George!" Molly took a great whiff of the milk and wrinkled her nose. "I'll have to throw that one out. That's disgusting. GEORGE WEASLEY! GET IN HERE NOW!"

"Don't you think?" Ron asked persistently.

"What?" Molly looked at Ron tiredly. "Ron, I'm sorry, I just don't think that there's any great rush to go and rescue Harry just because he hasn't replied to your letter. He doesn't seem to be in any great danger."

George entered the kitchen. "Umm... yes, Mum?" he asked politely.

Molly jabbed a finger toward the milk bottle. "What is the meaning of this, George? Why did you leave it on the sink so that it could go off?"

"Um..." George looked behind him for support from Fred but found none. "Uh... well, Fred and I read about this charm which stops milk going off, so I thought I'd, uh, cast it on the milk and see if it worked."

Molly frowned. "You were trying to be helpful?"

George nodded emphatically.

"I don't believe it," Molly said bluntly. "But I have no evidence otherwise so I'll let you off for now."

"Thanks Mum!" George skipped out of the kitchen.

Molly picked up the milk bottle and threw it in the garbage can. "Ugh."

"Mum..." Ron said.

"Yes, dear?" Molly was busy adding "milk" to her shopping list on the refrigerator. "I wonder what else we've run out of..."

"How do you know that Harry's safe?" Ron asked petulantly, toeing his shoe across the linoleum.

"Don't do that to the floor, dear," Molly said absently, chewing on her quill as she thought of missing items from her pantry.

"Well? How do you know Harry's okay?" Ron repeated.

"Oh!" Molly turned to Ron, surprised. "Well - because he's been writing to Ginny, of course. I'm sure she would have said something if he wasn't alright."

Ron frowned. "That letter a couple of weeks ago?"

"No," Molly said, her attention drawn to the twins discussing Quidditch techniques in the backyard through the window. "The letters she's been receiving every couple of days or so. I think she got one this morning, actually."

Ron's mouth fell open. "But..."

"Don't ask me!" Molly said, frowning a little as she watched Fred demonstrate a highly illegal move to George. "What on earth are they doing?" Molly opened the window. "FRED! That's not allowed!"

Ron leaned back against the doorframe, thinking quickly. So Harry and Ginny had been writing letters back and forth for the past couple of weeks, while he, Harry's best friend, got nothing. It was time to pay his sister a little visit.