Of Binding Spells and Chartreuse

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December 22^nd, 1997

Diagon Alley

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"Come to the back with me," said Ginny. Her eyes were feverishly bright, and spots of colour burned in her cheeks. George laid down his ledger book and followed her without a word. All of her brothers had learned that it was best not to oppose Ginny in even the slightest things when she was in this sort of mood. The sound of the Muggle radio that Fred had turned on before he left drifted to them as they walked into a back room.

Sweet dreams are made of these,

Who am I to disagree,

Travel the world and the seven seas,

Everybody's looking for something...

"Fred'll be gone for another hour at Gringotts, won't he?" she asked.

"Y--yeeees," said George cautiously. "You don't look like you're over that touch of flu you had, Ginny."

She turned to face him once they were out of view of the windows. "I didn't have flu," she said.

"Then why--"

"Don't ask. Please, George. I mean it. Don't."

"All right," he said.

She had known he would agree not to press her further, which none of her other brothers would likely have done, except perhaps for Percy. "I want you to do something for me," she said, without preamble. "It's something only you can do, and it's dreadfully important."

"I'll help if I can of course, but--"

"If you don't do this I'll have to-- to disappear! I mean it. I'll run away from home. I'll--"

George held up a hand. "I don't know if I like the sound of this, Ginny. Why don't we wait until Fred gets back, and then we can all discuss--"

"Don't you dare tell Fred!" Ginny exclaimed. "You can't tell him anything. Or Ron, or Mum, or--well, or anyone."

"What do you want?" sighed George.

"I want you to put the Fidelius charm on me, and I want you to be my Secret-Keeper."

George's eyebrows shot up to the roots of his brick-coloured hair. "And I thought that your plan to keep a pet dragon in your room when you were eight years old was a bad idea."

"It's the only way."

"To do what?"

"To--to hide from somebody. Well, from two people."

"But a Fidelius charm's a serious thing, Gin. I don't think you can possibly understand just how serious or you wouldn't ask me for it like that, like you were asking for a chocolate bar or something. I can't just--"

"Please!" burst out Ginny.

George put a hand on her shoulder. It was large and warm and calmed her a little. "We've been working on a new product for the shop," he said quietly. "It's a sort of temporary Fidelius charm. It is in the form of a chocolate bar, actually, and both the Secret-Keeper and the person who wants to be hidden have to take a bite from it."

"Oh." Ginny thought for a moment. It would probably work much better than a real Fidelius charm. She couldn't very well hide forever. "That would be wonderful, George."

"Well, don't thank me too fast. There's a bit of a catch to it," George said. "Once the whole bar is eaten by the two people involved, the spell's ended. And I should warn you that I'm going to finish it the day after tomorrow, because I want to go home for Christmas. So whatever your problem is, you've got to be able to work it out by Christmas Eve."

"I agree," said Ginny.

George hunted around on a shelf and took out a chocolate bar, peeling back the silver foil. Ginny reached for it.

"Wait," he said. "You have to tell me who you want to be hidden from, first."

Ginny squirmed. Still, there was really no way around this part of it. "Harry," she said. George did not react. "Aren't you surprised?" she asked.

"No," he said. "I'm not."

She smiled slightly. "I can just imagine what Fred would say if he knew."

"Well, then, we won't tell him, will we?" George grinned. "I'll try to get him to lay off you about Harry as well."

"He just doesn't understand," said Ginny. "But you do, don't you?"

"A bit," said George. "Understand, I know that Fred's clever, Gin. Much cleverer than I am. He's the one who comes up with all the ideas for the new products, you know? But I'm the one who got the lease for the shop, and kept the books, and ordered the supplies, and dealt with most of the tradeswizards. He's like lightning. Everywhere at once, flashing so brightly that even I can't look at him directly all the time. But it's like he's so bright himself that often he just doesn't see."

Ginny wondered how both the twins might react when it became clear that she wasn't going to marry Harry, even though that was what her mum wanted and was planning. Well, I'll just have to think about that later. Not now.

"Who's the other person?" asked George.

"Ummm... actuallyit'sDracoMalfoy."

"What?"

"Malfoy," repeated Ginny. "Draco Malfoy."

George's face darkened. "I've seen him talking to you, Gin."

"I didn't think anybody knew--"

"What did I just say? I'm the one who sees. I was thinking of asking you what you were doing even passing the time of day with that git. What's happened? Did he do something to you? You'd better tell me, Ginny!"

George was being extraordinarily restrained, Ginny thought. Fred or Ron would have charged into the streets with their wands out already. "Nothing happened," she said firmly.

"But--"

"Absolutely nothing. And you can't ask any more. I mean it, George."

"All right," he said resignedly, taking a bite of the chocolate bar. "Let's do this, then." He handed it to Ginny. It was unusually good chocolate, very bittersweet and dark-tasting, just the way she liked it. "Not too much," he cautioned her. "One more bite... all right, that's perfect." He rewrapped it and put it on a shelf.

"For the next two and a half days, then," said George, "you're protected. But that's it. So you'd better make up your mind, Gin."

"I will," she assured him. She wished that she felt half so sure as she sounded.

***

Ginny busily ran a feather duster over the merchandise at the very back of the shop, on the shelves set into the wall. A hand appeared, floating in the air next to her head. It was large and strong and lanky, and the knuckles were roughened from playing Quidditch. It tapped her on the shoulder. She ignored it.

A second hand popped up next to the first. It made itself into a puppet-and-mouth shape. "Why hello there, Mr. Right Hand," it said in a squeaky voice. "How are you today?"

"I'm all right, I reckon," the other hand sighed dramatically. "But I'm feeling soooo lonely, Mr. Left Hand!"

"That's terribly sad," said Right Hand. "But why?"

"Because Ginny won't talk to me," said Left Hand, slumping in a dispirited way against a shelf. Ginny rolled her eyes and kept dusting.

"But where's Ginny, Mr. Left Hand?" asked Right Hand.

"You don't suppose she's off somewhere by herself?" asked Left Hand.

"You don't suppose she's being... unhappy?" asked Right Hand.

"We'll have to cheer her up!"

"We'll sing a happy song!"

The two hands propped themselves on a shelf and began to dance, singing in falsetto.

"The wipers of the Knight bus go swish, swish, swish--"

The fingers moved back and forth.

"Swish, swish, swish--"

One hand grabbed Ginny's ponytail and began flopping it about.

"Swish, swish, swish!"

"Stop it," said Ginny between clenched teeth.

"There's Ginny!" chorused the hands. "Yay! She's the best little sister in the whole wide world!" They began to applaud.

"Oh, pull yourself together, Fred!" said Ginny.

The hands winked out into thin air. A few seconds later, Fred's head popped up from the side of the door. "Feeling better, Gin?" he asked.

Ginny dusted more energetically, and did not reply.

"Oh, Gin! Come on, Gin. Talk to me, Gin. I'll quit bugging you if you if you talk to me. I will. I'll shut up if you talk to me. When someone wants me to shut up, I always shut up. I'm the best hand at shutting up that you ever--"

"Is that head attached to the rest of you?" she asked, without turning round.

"Oh, all right," he sighed in aggrieved fashion. Fred walked into the room in his entirety a few seconds later. "The problem with those Floating Body Part lolly charms," he said thoughtfully, "is that if you use them too many times, it starts to get harder to reattach everything. See?" He pointed to a non-existent mark on his neck.

"If you lost your head, it might be an improvement," said Ginny, standing on tiptoe to reach a high shelf with the duster. Fred took it from her and began dusting.

"I think it would help if I sang another song," he said. "I heard one on the Muggle radio yesterday that I rather liked. I think it went like this... Sing with me, sing for the years
Sing for the laughter, sing for the tears, Sing with me, if it's just for today..."

Ginny ignored him. He cleared his throat and broke into a horrible falsetto.

"Dream on, dream on
Dream yourself a dream come true
Dream on, dream on
Dream until your dream come true
Dream on, dream on, DREAM ON..."

She clapped her hands over her ears.

"Have we been working you too hard?" he asked seriously--or, thought Ginny, as close to serious as Fred would ever get. "Is that what made you snap?"

"I haven't snapped. I just--"

"You seem so unhappy. I know!" He snapped his fingers. "I've been working on a little thing I like to call the 'Happy Happy Joy Joy Helmet.' You could test out the beta version!"

"No, Fred."

She snatched the duster back and kept working, not looking at her brother. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him shuffling his feet awkwardly.

"You had a fight or something with Harry, didn't you?" he asked.

"In time," said Ginny, "you may even be able to see things written in letters a foot high in red ink and shoved one inch below your nose."

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't mean--maybe some of it was my fault. I pushed him on you too much. But Gin, I saw you with all those boys who weren't good enough to lick your boots, and that thick prat Harry ignored you for years. I was over the moon when he wanted to date you--he came and told me first, you know. I thought you'd finally got someone who deserved you." He looked so sad and hangdog, all the sparkle gone out of his sherry-brown eyes. Ginny felt a pang of remorse. She put the duster down and hugged her brother tightly.

"Don't worry about it, Fred. This is one I've got to work out for myself."

***

Ginny went straight back to the Leaky Cauldron that night, avoiding Colin, who was hanging around the entrance to the shop and peering into the windows at intervals. As she drearily munched toast by the fire in her room, she heard the feathery brush of wings at the door. She opened it to find a large snowy owl with a parchment tied to its leg. She gave it all the toast absently, and unrolled the letter.

Dear Ginny,

I'm having dinner with you tomorrow at six. I won't take no for an answer. This is not a request. I'll pick you up at the shop, and if you aren't there I'll hunt you down without mercy.

Your cuddly snuggle-pal,

Colin

***

December 23^rd, 1997

Diagon Alley

Weasley's Wizard Wheezes

As the clock struck five, Ginny heard the tinny tinkle of the back door bell. She was going over the ledgers with an abacus and a quill pen, and she laid them both down at the sound, her heart thumping. The door opened. She was sitting so close to it that she shivered at the cold breeze. When she saw Harry's dark head, her heart sank. Then she felt hideously guilty.

She studied him surreptitiously. He couldn't see her, of course, for all that he was only a few metres from her. He looked so terribly worried, his green eyes large and anxious, and she suddenly wished she could brush back the unruly strands of black hair from his forehead, and soothe him with her warm hands, and tell him that everything was going to be all right. That was the sort of thing she had always longed to do for Harry, and had been so happy to do once they finally started dating.

Fred was up front helping a huge group of Gryffindors pick out Frog Fondant and Maltese Pug Meltaways for the upcoming term, so George came to the back door.

"Hello, Harry," he said.

"Is Ginny all right?" Harry blurted out before George had even finished greeting him.

"Yes, she's all right."

"I can't find her anywhere. I went round her rooms at the Leaky Cauldron and she wasn't there. Where is she?"

"Don't worry about that." George picked up a large ledger and started leafing through it.

Harry got the bullheaded expression on his face that Ginny remembered from two nights before. "Something's happened to her."

"No, it hasn't. Oh, bloody hell. This ledger's got all sorts of mistakes in it. I swear, if I didn't work so hard on the books day and night around here..."

Ginny was rather glad it was one of those that Fred was responsible for, not her. But she also noticed that there seemed to be something queer about George's tone of voice, and the way he kept glancing at Harry. It's as if he's waiting for some sort of response from Harry, and if it's not the right one... yes, that's it. It's like a test.

"Yes," continued George, "more fiscal responsibility. That's what Weasley's Wizard Wheezes really needs."

"Oh." Harry blinked, owl-like behind his round black glasses. "Well, I suppose, if you say so. But, listen, Fred, you've got to help me find Ginny."

"I'm awfully busy just now, Harry." There was a perceptible icy tone in George's voice.

"But I'm worried about her, Fred. She hasn't talked to me since--well, not since yesterday. We had a bit of a fight. Nothing serious, I'm sure of it," Harry hastened to add. "She'll come round. But if I can't talk to her, if I can't even find her--Fred, she must have told you where she went."

George looked up at last, and sighed. "Yes, Harry, she did."

"Then where is she?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that just now."

Harry looked perplexed. "Fred, I don't understand."

"Yes, I know you don't." George unscrewed the top of a new bottle of ink. "And that's why I'm not going to tell you."

"But--"

"Close the door on the way out, would you, Harry?"

"Fred, listen to me--"

George smiled pleasantly at Harry. "And don't let it hit you in the arse."

"Fred, I don't understand why you're being so--"

"Oh. And by the way, I'm George."

"Sorry," said Harry faintly.

"You've never once been able to tell us apart in seven years, Harry. 'Bye now."

Harry got to the door, and then paused. "Will you at least take a letter for her?" he asked.

"I suppose I could."

Harry spent several minutes scribbling lines on a piece of parchment, and then gave it to George, looked at him hopelessly.

"You know exactly where she is, don't you," he said.

"Yep," said George.

"And you're not going to tell me, are you."

"Nope."

"I--I really do care for her, you know," Harry said in a low voice.

"I know," said George.

***

Ginny curled up on the overstuffed couch next to Colin, legs tucked under her, facing him. The scent of roast beef and potatoes and gravy still hung in the air, and there were a few scraps of fruit tart and cheese left on the plates that were scattered across the low table near the fire. They'd eaten dinner in her room. It was an extra charge to have it brought up, but she knew that Fred and George would cover it. She and Colin had things to discuss that she wasn't going to talk about in the crowded taproom. Ginny supposed that she'd put off talking long enough.

"So, what's in that letter Harry left for you?" Colin asked, with the air of one who has shown great patience.

Ginny sipped at a cup of tea, curving her hands around its warmth. "I don't know," she admitted. "I haven't read it. I'll open it now, if you like."

"Er--are you sure? What if he mentions all the juicy details of--"

"There weren't any."

"Didn't you say he came up here the other night?"

"Nothing happened," Ginny sighed. "Well, all right, a bit happened."

"The plot thickens," said Colin.

But then I... um...didn't want to do what Harry wanted to do, and I sort of ran from the room and hid."

Colin shook his head. "I never would've believed that Harry would try to force you into anything."

"Oh, he didn't. Harry wouldn't do that. But it's just too hard to explain. Let's read the letter." Ginny slit the seal, and they both bent over the parchment as it unrolled.

Dear Ginny,

I'm thick about girls sometimes, you know that. Always have been, likely always will be.

But even I know by now that's something awfully wrong. George didn't have to tell me that you didn't want to see me--I figured it out on my own. But how can I understand what's wrong if you won't talk to me, Ginny?

Sometimes I think that maybe I've been going about this the wrong way. I suppose you didn't like my telling you that you shouldn't know the whole truth, and when I think about it, I can't really blame you. Please believe that I really did think it would be better if you didn't. The truth about these dark things, Voldemort and the Death Eaters and the rest--it can be so dirty, Ginny. You are one of the few things in my life that is clean and pure, all the way through. I just wanted to keep you that way, and if I was wrong, I'm sorry.

But then I remembered how I felt my fifth year, when nobody would tell me anything, when Dumbledore and the Order kept all those secrets from me. How angry I was... I'm going to tell you something, Ginny, that I've never told to anyone else.

"Should I be reading this?" asked Colin.

"Go on," said Ginny.

I'm going to tell you something, Ginny, that I've never told to anyone else. If they'd only told me the truth about everything they knew, I never would have gone to the Department of Mysteries the way I did. I wouldn't have brought you and Neville and Luna, and all the rest. And maybe... maybe Sirius would still be alive.

So when I thought about that, I knew that I had to tell you. Maybe I shouldn't. But I'm going to do it anyway, and then perhaps you'll forgive me for not telling you before.

There's a Binding spell placed on the two of us, as you know. But what you don't know is why.

You're the seventh daughter of a third son, and the first Weasley girl in three hundred years. You've been possessed by evil--Tom Riddle--and survived. There's so much potential magical power in you, the Order members are saying, power you haven't even dreamed of yet. And to protect that power, it has to be bound to someone we can trust. That's me, Ginny. And here's the really important part. This sort of bond is used from time to time for all sorts of reasons, but Dumbledore says that with you, it could create so much magical power that it could tilt the balance in the favour of the light side.

So that's why it's important. Now here's the part that--well, I really wish I could talk to you, Ginny, in order to explain it properly. I'm afraid that by just writing down the bare facts, it's going to look pretty dodgy.

These sorts of Binding spells aren't well understood. But as far as anyone can tell, they can only be cemented physically. Which means that we have to make love, Ginny, in order for it to work.

And sure enough, that came out all wrong. I sound like I'm just trying to jump you when that's not it at all. I reckon that's what you thought before, and why you stopped me that night. I respect you, Ginny, more than I could ever say. That's why I want to marry you after I graduate. I know we're so young, but we're not really all that much younger than my mum and dad were when they married. I want to show you that I don't just want you for your body. I want to prove that I do respect you, and--

Ginny crumpled up the parchment in a single motion and threw it into the fire. The flames blazed up and consumed it.

"Hey!" said Colin, startled.

She stared down at her own hand. "I didn't mean to do that," she said. "But I couldn't bear to read another word."

Colin grimaced. "Well... it's true that it wasn't exactly the most romantic love letter the world has ever seen, Gin. But the rest... Jesus! Rather a lot of responsibility to put on the two of you, isn't it? I wonder if Dumbledore's going dotty."

"So do I." Ginny put her head in her hands and stared into the fire.

"And I didn't think you were still a virgin," Colin said thoughtfully. "That is a bit of a surprise. I didn't think anybody could possibly date Seamus Finnegan for more than fifteen minutes and keep it intact."

"Yes, well, I spent most of the relationship fighting him off me, which is why it didn't last."

"Is that what you had to do with Harry?" Colin asked, his voice suddenly going serious.

"No. I told you, it wasn't like that. He really does respect me, you know." Ginny struggled for words. "But in a way that almost makes it worse."

"How so?"

"Would you want to sleep with someone because they respected you?"

"I see your point," Colin admitted. "It's sweet that he wants to marry you."

"But, Colin, think about it a moment. It doesn't make sense. How on earth am I supposed to be able to decide who I want to spend the rest of my life with when I'm only sixteen and a half years old?"

"You used to think you knew," said Colin softly. "Remember what you told me about the plans you used to make when you were eleven? You had your entire wedding to Harry mapped out in your head, right down to the bridesmaids' robes."

"I did. Once. I don't blame Harry. Not entirely, anyway. It's probably all my fault, really," Ginny said miserably. She wished she could tell Colin about what she had done with Draco Malfoy. If she told someone else, the awful weight on her chest might lighten a bit. But she already knew that she couldn't. And if she couldn't tell Colin, she would never be able to tell anyone.

"Colin, will you tell me something?"

"If I can."

She turned to face him. "Do you think it really is me? I mean--" She stopped. She was putting her darkest fears into words now, and she had to force the words past a lump in her throat. "Is there something wrong with me?" she blurted out.

"Not a thing. Remember when we studied the Continuum of the Endless in History of Magic class? Remember that painting of Desire in the book? I always thought she looked like you, all dark gold eyes and tawny hair." He reached out and tweaked one of her braids. "If I were straight, I'd go for you myself, you know that."

"Well--thank you, Colin, but I don't mean that! I mean, I'm still a virgin, you know that now. I've had plenty of chances to change that. And I haven't taken any of them. I always told myself it was because I was saving myself for Harry. Well, now Harry wants what I've saved, and I can't give it to him." And I ran from Draco Malfoy, too, she thought, knowing she could never say the words. "What if there's something wrong with me--really wrong? What if I can't ever have sex?"

Colin looked back at her silently. He bit his lip.

"You think I'm right, don't you?" she said in a very low voice.

"No!" He shook his head vehemently. "No, I don't."

"You do. I can tell by the way you're looking at me, like you're trying not to say something."

"It's not that."

Ginny wiped at her eyes. Tears were welling up in them in spite of everything she could do to stop them. "Well, what is it, then?" she asked, her voice quavering.

"I can't believe I'm going to tell you this," muttered Colin. "I am, though. You have to know. But after I get through with this story, you might pour all the cold tea over my head. Or possibly beat me to death with the poker." He took a deep breath. "Last month, on the last Hogsmeade weekend before the holidays, do you remember how Harry just sort of disappeared for hours on end? And I did too?"

"Yes," sniffled Ginny. "I wondered where you went."

"Well, while Luna dragged you and Hermione to that little bookshop to see that book about Stonehenge, I went with Harry and Ron to the Hog's Head. They'll sell firewhisky to anyone there, you know. We all got pretty pissed and lost track of the time, and Ron started talking to some Beaters from the Ravenclaw team that were there, and then we lost of track of him... and I got an idea, it seemed like a really good idea at the time..."

Ginny looked at Colin suspiciously, wondering where all this was leading.

"Harry mentioned that there were rooms upstairs, and I said I'd never seen them and they might be interesting. So we went. We weren't either of us walking in a straight line by then, so it took us awhile, but we did make it to a room. Now, understand, Gin, that I think I knew even then that deep down, you really didn't want to be with Harry. So I really did this for you," Colin said piously.

"What on earth happened?"

"I said that the bed in the corner looked awfully interesting."

"Then what?"

"I asked Harry if he wouldn't like to look at the carving on the headboard more closely."

"Then what?"

Colin looked down at his feet. "I, er, jumped on the mattress and dragged Harry down onto it and tried to kiss him."

Ginny gave a great whoop of laughter through her tears.

"Well," said Colin, "that's certainly not the reaction I expected to get."

"Did he let you?" she asked, sitting up and drying her eyes.

"No," said Colin. "He punched me. Then the bed collapsed." He winced and put a hand to his nose, obviously reliving the memory.

"Oh." Ginny felt curiously deflated.

"So the big seduction scene didn't go too well." Colin grimaced. "I can safely say that Harry's not queer."

"Can I tell you something awful?" asked Ginny.

"Worse than what I just told you?"

"Maybe. It's that I actually thought--for just a moment--that it might be easier if he was. I think I almost wished he was."

"That's not awful," Colin said cheerfully. "After all, I wished it, too."

"But I knew he wasn't. You see, when we... well, when he came here the night before last, and we were on the couch, and we almost..."

"You really need to learn how to finish your sentences, Gin."

"You know exactly what I mean! Anyway, when all that happened, I knew that he wanted it, or sort of did, anyway. He wanted sex; he just didn't exactly want--well, I'm not even sure what it was that Harry didn't want. But the point is, if he had been queer... Colin, you shouldn't have done that."

"Because Harry's your boyfriend? Or at least he was when I tried it?"

"No, because I think that we both have to be virgins for this Binding spell to work," said Ginny dully. "You know. The one that's going to save the wizarding world? That's how these sorts of spells always work, Hermione told me."

Colin looked uncomfortable.

"What?" demanded Ginny.

"Uh... I really hope not," said Colin.

"Don't tell me you're offering to do the deed with me," Ginny said dryly. "And Harry already turned you down."

"That's not what I'm talking about. I mean that if that really is true, then I wouldn't give much for the hope of the wizarding world."

"Look, I've had a few boyfriends, Colin," said Ginny. "But I never got anywhere near that far with any of them, so what's the problem?"

"The problem is that there are two people involved."

"But Harry--"

"Isn't any virgin," finished Colin.

She stared at him. "What on earth do you mean? Cho never did more than kiss him. Luna didn't get any further; we talked about it, and I know she was telling the truth."

"I'm sure she was, but-- Ginny, there's something else I have to tell you about Harry. I wouldn't, except that you need to know. I didn't find out about it until long after I'd tried to... you know... with him. Actually, it was just this week... which is the main reason I didn't want to tell you..."

Ginny gulped. She had a bad feeling about whatever it was she was going to hear. "All right," she said.

"Two days ago, I was in Hogsmeade, in a part where the students usually don't go. It's at the other end of the road from the Shrieking Shack. That's where... you know... the Crystal Palace is. D'you know what that is, Ginny?"

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I have six older brothers, Colly. I've heard all about the Crystal Palace. What were you doing there?"

"Applying for a job next summer as the bookkeeper."

Ginny giggled.

"I don't think there's anything funny about that," Colin said in a dignified way. "I'd make more money than I could in the Muggle world at Burger King or McDonald's, and they really like to hire bent boys for the job--they don't bother the girls. Anyway, the point is that I saw Lupin there."

"Maybe he was applying for some sort of work as well."

"I doubt it. He was going upstairs with a woman."

"Well, that's none of our business," said Ginny primly. "I suppose it must be dreadfully hard for him to have girlfriends--with his problem, I mean--although he's so sweet and kind, I'm sure he'd be a wonderful--"

"I don't need to hear about your crush on Remus Lupin just now. I wanted to tell you about something else."

Ginny blushed. In her second year, she had indeed had an awful crush on Professor Lupin when he had taught at Hogwarts, although it was long over with. She decided to hold her tongue on that subject. "Well, what is it then?"

"It's who I saw him come in with." Colin hesitated. "He brought Harry."

"No!"

"Yes. And then I asked around. Apparently, that was far from the first time Lupin's taken Harry there. I heard that was over the summer after his fifth year."

"Oh." Ginny leaned back against the cushions of the couch, pondering this new development. "Why?"

Colin smirked. "I thought you knew what sort of house that was, Ginny..."

She slapped his arm lightly. "I do! But then why didn't he--oh, I don't know. I'm not even sure what I mean." She tapped a finger against her chin. "So we definitely know that Harry likes girls, but he doesn't like me?"

"I don't think that's it at all," said Colin. "I think that Harry loves his friends. He saved your life once, Ginny, and that creates a bond that nothing can ever break. In that way, he loves you, and he always will. And he's a straight teenage wizard, so he likes to shag girls. I'll tell you something I've thought for a long time, though. I could be wrong, I suppose. But I think that those are the two tracks Harry's emotions can move on. He doesn't have anything else to offer anyone."

The two of them sat silently for a moment. On the table, the kettle was beginning to hiss.

"Colin, you really have a gift for making a girl feel better," said Ginny.

"But do you think I'm right?"

"Yes. I do."

Ginny poured herself a cup of tea, glumly. "But I have to do it, don't I," she said in a monotone.

Colin shrugged. "Why?"

"Because if I don't sleep with Harry and then marry him, the wizarding world will go down in flames. And it'll be all my fault."

"That seems a bit much, Gin."

"But you read that letter! This entire thing was Dumbledore's idea." Ginny shuddered. "That seems so wrong, somehow."

"Dumbledore making decisions about your sex life? Yes, it does."

She sipped her tea. "You're taking all of this rather lightly, Colin. But it really is serious. I honestly don't see that I have any other choice."

"I don't know about that," he said. "Of course, I'm not really like you, or your family. I lived in the Muggle world until I was eleven years old."

"So did Harry," Ginny pointed out.

"Yes, but his life was so miserable that he's tried to forget all about it, as much as he could anyway. Mine was happy. So I still think like a Muggle in loads of ways, and I don't think that's a bad thing at a time like this. I don't see why you have to be doomed to this thing, and I wouldn't just accept it. You might have other options, Gin."

"I don't know..."

"Just think about it." Colin dropped a lump of sugar into her cup.

After Colin left, an owl tapped at Ginny's door and batted her head about with its wings when she opened it. With a sinking heart, she recognized Pallas, the dotty new owl that her mother had got at half price. She opened the parchment a little way, peeping at it.

Ginevra,

Ginny groaned. Whenever her mother addressed her by her full name, it was an extraordinarily bad sign. She skipped down to the middle of the page.

-- your little spat with Harry. He didn't tell me anything directly, but the poor boy is devastated. And to be honest, I thought I'd raised you better than that. I'm dreadfully disappointed that you'd even consider allow something like that to stand in the way of the salvation of the entire wizarding world. Young people simply have to learn to work these things out, and--

She crumpled the parchment up and threw it into the fire. That seems to be happening to all of my letters lately.

Then she sat on the couch in front of the fire in her room, staring into the flames. There was a little spot of black moving in the very midst of each tongue of fire. Ginny imagined curling up safely within that dancing darkness, surrounded by flame. No-one would ever find me then...

She shook her head. The randomness of her own thoughts was beginning to frighten her. Tomorrow. She would have to make up her mind tomorrow. But how could she?

"There's nowhere left to hide," she said aloud.

Finally, she went to bed, banking the fire carefully first to a warm glow. She fell asleep quickly and slipped into a dream that seemed to have been waiting for her.

She was walking naked in a lush garden filled with fruit trees. The yellow sun beat down on her head, warming her hair, the soft long grass was cool under her feet, and it seemed perfectly natural for her to wear no clothes. She stopped in front of an enormous tree covered with gold and silver apples. How delicious they look, she thought. She reached up her hand for one. A long snake dropped down from a branch and slithered towards her. It was a lovely enameled yellow-green colour.

"Do you know what it issss that you would eat, human child?" it asked her in a hiss.

"No," she said truthfully.

"These are the applessss of knowledge. They are dangeroussss to the taste."

"I want to try one anyway."

"It is easier to remain ignorant. Safer, some would ssssay."

"I cannot bear to live in ignorance any longer," Ginny said.

"Assss you wish." The snake undulated all along its coils, and an apple dropped to roll along its shiny skin. It lifted its triangle-shaped head to her, the fruit balanced upon it, and Ginny saw that the snake had a human face, although she could not have said whose it was.

She bit into the fruit. The taste was sweeter than all the apples ever grown in all the orchards of the world, and the sweetness spread through her body in ripples of divine pleasure. Ginny was still shaking with them when she awoke.

She rolled over and stared up at the canopy of the bed for a long time. The taste of the dream still stayed with her when she fell back into sleep, a smile upon her lips.