Harry Potter and the Elemental Heirs

Harry Potter and the Elemental Heirs

Chapter 1:

"Not all who wander are lost." ~JRR Tolkien

Ginny somehow managed to stifle a yawn as Hermione continued her seemingly endless lecture on the finer points of wizarding history. She had never quite understood how Hermione managed to find things such as the Goblin Rebellion even remotely interesting, yet there she sat, chatting animatedly and gesticulating wildly as if it were the most important topic ever to grace the presence of the earth.

Hermione had been at the Burrow for almost the entire summer. The truth was she couldn't bear being away from Ron for so long, though she claimed that her parents had decided to go on an anniversary cruise in the Bahamas, whatever that was supposed to mean. Fred and George were off in Diagon Alley finishing the preparations for the new shop they were building there, to add to the one in Hogsmeade. Percy was, of course, at the Ministry burying himself in work.

Ginny took the time to look around her room, comforting in its familiarity. It was decorated in soft and muted pinks, with cherry wood furniture. Small and cozy, it smelled faintly of jasmine and rosemary, and Ginny breathed in the scented air gratefully. She sighed and laid back on the bed, spreading her arms as if she were falling.

Hermione finally seemed to notice Ginny's scarcely concealed boredom. "Oh, I am sorry Ginny. I do tend to get a little worked up when it comes to these things, don't I?"

"Well, that's the understatement of the year..." Ginny muttered, rolling over on her side to look up at Hermione. Her fiery hair cascaded down her shoulders and fell into her face, and she pushed it away impatiently. "Let's just find something else to talk about before I fall asleep ok?" A sly grin crossed her face suddenly, and a devious light shone in her eyes. "Sooooo...how is my brother doing these days? You haven't happened to have seen him around lately? You know you two are usually so preoccupied doing homework, writing letters to Harry, talking about the weather, or just doing your every day, run of the mill snogging in secluded areas. It's really a wonder you have time to talk to little old me."

"Wha-I-how?" Hermione spluttered, her immaculate vocabulary failing her. She picked up a fuzzy pink pillow and hurled it at Ginny, who merely laughed. "How on earth did you find out about that?"

"Oh, as if it weren't completely obvious. You two walk around making eyes at each other all day long, randomly sighing and being all around lovesick puppies. You are about as obvious as, oh say, a stampeding hippogriff herd raging through the Burrow. That and the fact that I walked in on you two the other day in Ron's room." She grinned brightly at Hermione, who's mouth was slightly open and was rapidly turning crimson.

She finally laughed, still slightly pink, and made a face at Ginny. "Oh all right. You win. We were going to announce it tonight at dinner anyways. We are officially a couple," she said proudly.

"Well all I have to say is it's about time! I'm so happy for you!" Ginny said, a genuine smile gracing her features as she threw her arms around the older girl.

Hermione suddenly noticed how much Ginny had changed over the past year. It was now her 6^th year at Hogwarts and all traces of her 1^st year self were long gone. She had an inner confidence that shone brightly from her soft brown eyes and rarely belied the scrawny 11 year old who had been controlled by Tom Riddle. Her sunset-colored hair was now down to her waist and shone brightly in the soft morning light. But it was her calm and mature demeanor that was the most defining thing about her. Of course underneath the exterior, Hermione knew there lay a passionate and fiery core, invoking fear in even Fred and George when she was angry. But she seemed so incredibly beyond her years, and Hermione suspected this was because of Tom. So many things about Ginny were. Sometimes, in an unguarded moment, Hermione would see the lost and empty look, full of so much pain, and knew that she was thinking of him. But it always flickered away quickly, replaced by her usual bright spirit.

Hermione shook these thoughts away and smiled back. "Now, speaking of relationships, about Harry.."

But Ginny suddenly paled and a shadow passed over her features. "No, Hermione. I can't think about him. Just don't." She became very interested in her hands and Hermione sighed.

She didn't know exactly what had transpired last year between Harry and Ginny last year. She knew they had become much closer as Ron and Hermione had started spending more time together. Harry had leaned on Ginny after Sirius' death, and for some odd reason she had been the only one he could really talk to about it. He had become a bundle of contradictions after that summer, withdrawn and haunted one moment, and falsely cheerful the next. She knew he had tried to cover up his feelings for their sakes, but Harry simply could never truly conceal his emotions.

But Hermione did not want to think about that year either. It gave her a strange sense of foreboding in its complete lack of significant activity on the part of Voldemort. It was as if he had simply vanished and they weren't on the verge of the Second War. The Order had been on its toes all year long, but soon realized that either Voldemort was building up his forces and plotting something truly horrible, or he had decided that being evil involved far too much work and entered the business of rescuing kittens and puppies and visiting old folk homes. The latter seemed to be very wishful thinking.

She did know that one day Harry and Ginny had simply stopped talking altogether, Ginny wearing a pained and hurt expression, on the verge of tears, and Harry.... Harry had frightened her that day. So cold and removed and...resolute. That fiery determination had burned in his eyes and Hermione had wondered why. What did he hope to accomplish by fighting with Ginny. She had a worried feeling that she already knew, but could do nothing about it. Always the hero, that was Harry, but she wondered if it was worth it. Could he afford to lose Ginny?

Her thoughts were interrupted by an insistent tapping at Ginny's window. As she leapt up and opened the window, a snowy bundle of feathers fluttered in and settled on a chair. "It's Hedwig!" she exclaimed, surprised. Harry had rarely written so far over the summer. She suspected memories of Sirius were flooding over him, as they tended to do when he had too much time alone. That was why Mrs. Weasley was so eager to get Dumbledore to allow Harry to come to the Burrow, but so far he had not relented. Hermione happily snatched the letter and gave Hedwig a treat, ripping open the envelope. Her eyes greedily scanned the page and then she gasped in excitement.

"Oh! Harry's coming today! He'll be here this afternoon!"

She stopped as she turned and saw the look on Ginny's face. Several expressions flitted across her features in rapid succession: shock, fear, realization, and finally anger.

"Well isn't that just bloody front page news," she said sharply, leaping up from the bed. She knew she shouldn't be angry, that she should be happy for Hermione and Ron, and even Harry. He was finally escaping the Dursleys and coming back to his real family. But she just couldn't seem to muster the cheerful emotions that radiated from Hermione at that moment. The anger simply boiled in her blood, frothing angrily and threatening to burst out in a furious tirade. But she couldn't unleash it on Hermione. She refused to be so cruel.

"I'm sorry Hermione," she whispered faintly. The color drained from her face and she plopped back onto the bed resignedly. "I can't take this out on you. I'm only angry at Harry. I think I just need a walk."

"It's alright," Hermione said calmly. "I understand."

Ginny smiled gratefully at her before leaving the room and walking down the stairs. They creaked with age and use. How many Weasley feet had tromped up and down these stairs, leaving behind a footprint and a memory?

Fred and George, scrambling to escape their latest product gone awry, explosions resounding behind them, their mother's screeches filling the air. Percy, sauntering importantly off to write some letter of great importance, dignified. Ron, dashing lankily and good-naturedly downstairs at the smell of his mother's cooking. Bill and Charlie racing each other in happy sibling rivalry, pounding into the floorboards and leaping into the air, fists pumping.

As the memories overtook her, Ginny felt her anger melt away. She sighed and wondered at her questionable family, laughing to herself. She knew she would feel better after a good walk. If anything could prepare her for facing Harry, it was a stroll around the Burrow, the sights, sounds, and smells seeping into her, clearing her head and giving her a wonderful sense of clarity. She always could think best on a walk. She turned the doorknob and almost stepped through, but something made her gasp and stop. There, standing in her doorway, all lopsided grin and untidy hair and brilliant green eyes, was Harry Potter.