Seeking Ginny

There were many streets weaving through the Parisian village of Lacasse. Some twisted and twirled into circles; some went over, under, or right through landmarks; some did all three; most however, met at one central place: Lake Christelle. The lake was an odd sort of shape. Many said it looked like a giant L; others said it fashioned a T; Ginny rather thought, from the map she'd had to pour over during her first year in Paris, that it leaned more towards a Z. In any event, the lake was the very heart of Lacasse, as was the famous Pier Benoit.

The great thing about Pier Benoit, named after the warlock who conjured it in 1609, was that it gave residents and tourists the opportunity to locate Merpeople's rock, an island located so far from shore that Merpeople often surfaced and lounged around it. Tourists had once flocked to Pier Benoit just to stand at the edge and peer towards the rock, waiting for the tiniest bit of movement or flash of green. Since the evolution of magical technology, however, new tools had been created to aid in viewing the rock and it was no longer necessary to wait in a long queue only to stand at the farthest point of the pier and squint out to sea.

All along the shore, there were stands that sold or hired out a thing called Spectaculars. These goggle-like glasses allowed people to position themselves anywhere on the Pier and view Merpeople's rock with stunning accuracy. Much of Lacasse's population owned several pairs of Spectaculars to save on hiring fees and avoid missing out on the biggest Merpeople parties should the hire period run out...and also to aid them in other things. Like spying on their neighbors. Spectaculars were everything the residents of Lacasse needed: a cheap solution to the need for gossip, an evening of entertainment at the pier and a gold-making tourist trap.

Or, if you were Harry Potter, they were merely insufficient imitations of every visual-aid instrument located in his office at home.

"Are you sure you can't see anything?" Ginny asked him, as he stood perfectly still, hands shoved into pockets and gazing out to sea through a pair of Spectaculars. "Anything at all?" she pressed.

"Nothing. I should have brought my X-Eyes."

Ginny smiled. "Perhaps these are defective. I can trade them in for another pair."

"I can see the rock okay, it's the Merpeople that seem to be missing."

"Oh, Harry, they're not there all the time," Ginny explained and propped herself up on the rail, hooking her ankles around the bottom rungs. The water splashed against the rocks below. "They're probably just... waiting or something."

"For what?"

"Well... perhaps the party doesn't start for another hour," she suggested, casting a glance over her shoulder at the open water.

Harry turned his head to look at Ginny, forgetting to take off the Spectaculars and swaying on the spot. He pulled them off, straightened his own glasses and grinned. "Too bad we'll be at the Eiffel Tower by then."

"All right, fine, we'll go. I just have to accept the fact that you don't like this place. I loved it when I first came here."

"I hate Merpeople."

"Yes, you've said," she commented dryly and hopped off the railing.

"You would hate them too, if they'd threatened to kill you," he reasoned.

"I suppose."

It was early Friday evening and Ginny's night off from work. The weather had remained quite perfect since the sudden drop in temperature earlier that week and after another downpour of rain, the evenings had actually been calling for a light cloak which Ginny currently held slung over her arm. Despite Harry's grumpiness toward Merpeople's rock, he seemed happy to be sightseeing after what he'd called "a stupid and pointless day".

As they stepped onto Rue Robertseau, Ginny told him about several landmarks they would pass on the way to the entrance of Muggle Paris.

"This street will take us all the way there; it follows through from one end of the city to the other." She hesitated a bit before stopping and pointing a thumb over her shoulder. "You can see l'Academie if you look down the opposite way."

Harry stopped and turned to look down the long, curvy street where the university's pale blue turrets and tall speared posts towered at the far edge of the city. He turned to Ginny, dark brows lifted, eyes surprised.

"That's your University?"

The startled and rather impressed look on his face made her smile. "Yeah... why do you look so surprised?"

"It's... bigger than I thought. From what I can see of it anyway," he said, gazing down the street in fascination. "It looks almost as big as Hogwarts."

"Oh, it's not," she said, shaking her head, although she felt a little twinge of pride at Harry's unabashed appreciation. "But it has just as many trick stairs."

"It looks really nice," Harry commented as they started walking again.

"It is," Ginny said, smiling. "I love it. Anyway, back to the tour. See where the street splits up there? Well, if we wanted to go into Muggle Paris right now, we would stay on, but we're taking a detour so we're going to go right onto Rue Legrand and following it all the way behind Legrand Manor and into the cemetery."

"What's Legrand Manor?"

"It's where all the ghosts live," Ginny explained, standing on tiptoe and trying to see the tops of the dark, massive castle in the opposite direction of l'Academie. "I think the occupancy is up to eight hundred and fourteen now... or is it nine hundred and fourteen...? I can't remember. Anyway, they give tours and all that. Most of the ghosts are very nice."

Harry smirked. "Made friends with any?"

"No," she grinned. "I'll have to add that to the list of things that I want to try to do before I go home. It's starting to grow quite long, actually."

"How many years have you been here again?"

"Hmm? Oh, five."

"You're not ready to go home, then?"

"Oh, but I am. I'm very ready to go back, I can't wait. It's just... there are things I wish I could have done while I'd been here... you know? I would have loved to travel round France a bit more. I mean, I did travel a bit, but the truth is, I didn't have much time for it. During my time off, I always tried to either work more or spend the time going back to England."

Harry looked confused. "Did you visit home a lot? I can't remember seeing you at all."

Ginny shook her head. "No, I really didn't. I would plan to. If I had a few days free from lessons, I would pack a bag and Apparate to the station, but since it was always during holidays, the lines would be so long that I'd just... turn around and come back. I couldn't risk not being able to get back in time for my lessons or work."

Harry nodded. "It's even worse than it used to be, Apparating. The waiting times for the public are horrendous."

"I know, I can't believe it's going to take me days to get back home. Are they talking about lifting the laws yet? Anytime before July?" she added hopefully.

Harry smiled, but shook his head. "There are talks about lifting the laws, but it's a terrible idea." At Ginny's incredulous look, Harry continued, "Do you know how many travelers we've caught trying to smuggle illegal items in?"

"Really? Still? Like what?"

"Oh, all sorts of things. Dark potions...." Harry told her several names, some of which Ginny recognized as ones Death Eaters had been using in the war.

"They're still around, those? Who is brewing this stuff?"

"Who do you think?"

"Not...old Voldemort supporters?" she said incredulously.

Harry laughed sarcastically. "The war lasted only three years to most people, but the Ministry will be dealing with the repercussions for much longer."

Ginny shivered. Memories of those times came back all too clearly. "Is it public knowledge, what goes on? Or is the Ministry still fond of keeping everything cleverly concealed."

Harry shrugged. "They're not as bad as they used to be, that's for sure. Things like potion-smuggling never make the front-page headlines anymore. I suppose people who really follow the news would know. But so far, every time things like that surface, we catch it and stop it, and nothing really comes of it."

"I suppose that's the only way to stamp it out for good," she said, and then shook her head bitterly. "I just can't get over it, though--I mean honestly, will there always be people out there who insist on practicing dark magic?"

"When the answer to that question is "no", I'll be out of a job."

Ginny smiled. "Well... you probably wouldn't have very much to worry about it if that happened. You're not a very big spender, Harry," she joked, steering the conversation away from the war. "Where are you living now?"

He looked sideways at her. "Your... mum hasn't told you?"

For some reason, Ginny's heart skipped a beat. "No, why?"

"Er..." He cleared his throat. "Remember Order headquarters?"

It took her a moment to comprehend it. "12 Grimmauld Place?" she blurted, turning to him, unable to conceal her blatant shock.

Harry was half smiling. "Yeah...why?"

Ginny opened her mouth to respond, but had to close it and chose her words carefully. "I just... it's a bit... surprising, that's all. I mean, I never thought ...well..." She blew out a breath. Apparently, choosing her words carefully didn't mean anything at all. "It's unplottable still, then?" she asked finally, using that as the reason she was so shocked about it. Harry had once told her that he would never set foot in that place as long as he lived.

"No, not anymore. I've actually refurbished it a bit," he told her. "Given most of the old furniture away to charity... sold off a few... portraits."

"Sold?" she asked with interest. "How did you manage that?"

"Well, when you sell them for the right price to the right... er, people...."

Ginny's brow shot up. "I don't think I want to know anymore, thanks. Were any of them, erm, difficult to remove?"

Harry smirked. "Not after I announced that I was moving in."

The cemetery was a bit creepy. Ginny had never visited Jacques the Jaunty's gravestone after dark, so when they arrived and saw only a select few tourists wandering the hundreds of tombs among a majority of mingling ghosts, she and Harry exchanged looks before venturing forth. Nevertheless, it was difficult not to laugh at the ghost who was trapped inside his own tomb and amusing himself by giggling incessantly. Ginny asked another ghost, who had paused to call hello to Jacques, exactly how he'd become trapped and this caused a rather excitable group of ghosts to come together and reenact how it had come about. Ginny found herself holding her side from laughing and even Harry, who didn't understand one word of the story since the ghosts were speaking in French, let out a bark of laughter when one broke apart from the skit to gasp at his own tomb and fall to the ground, sobbing.

After the cemetery, they wound their way back down Rue Legrand and took Rue Robertseau into Muggle Paris and there, they went around and saw many tourists' attractions, using some well-known Apparition spots that were cleverly hidden from Muggles. Harry finally saw his Eiffel Tower and Ginny had to bite back a grin when the only comment he had for it was,

"Bit filthy, isn't it?"

When they finally became tired of sight-seeing, they agreed to start walking back to the entrance of Lacasse and did so at a slow pace, stopping to buy ice cream again at Ginny's insistence that she pay this time.

"So...what's new with Ron and Hermione?" she asked Harry, licking her scoop of chocolate, then grinning maliciously at him. "Any good fights lately?"

Harry's shoulder jerked on a laugh. There was a moment's silence, then, "You know how they are."

"Yes, I do. I know all too well how they are. I miss them." Harry looked at her and she allowed herself another grin. "Yes, I even miss Ron. Mad, eh?"

"Mad."

"Well... it's like, I hate missing out on all the little things, you know? It makes me think that I'll have been... I dunno, left out of everything and it will all seem different and--" she allowed herself a bit of a pout--"nobody will want to be my friend anymore because I'll have missed all the fun."

A reluctant grin spread across his face for a moment before silence slipped between them again. He tossed what was left of his cone into a bin. "Things have changed a bit, I suppose."

Ginny took a crunchy bite of her cone. "I'm sure. Everyone has jobs and their own places."

"Not Ron. He still lives at home."

"Yeah, but that's Ron. Lazy as always. Anyway, I hear he works lots of hours so he's never home. And the twins, too, what with that book they wrote - whatever that means, I doubt they actually did any writing - and the new shop opening and all that."

Harry nodded. "Everyone works a lot."

"Yes, well I hear you win that prize," she said, smiling. Harry looked at her sideways and lifted his brow. "For working the most," she supplied, her voice tinged with humor. "I remember Dad always talking about the hours that Aurors put in, that sometimes they could never even go home at night." She grinned then. "He used to say that to us when we complained that he worked so late and I would think how lucky I was that I wasn't the daughter of an Auror."

Harry smiled. "Your dad works hard. Always has."

"Yeah... Mum never complained about it, but I always knew that it bothered her a bit, you know? She hated seeing him work so much. So... do you still get to spend a lot of time with Ron and Hermione, then? Or does your work cut into that more often than not?"

"More often than not."

"Oh, I'll bet they're really annoying about it," Ginny said, grinning. "Do they pester you about working so much?"

"No. They get engaged."

It took a moment for Ginny to fully appreciate his words; he'd said them so easily and the conversation until then had been so uneventful that she'd merely started to nod in agreement. But then the impact of what he'd said hit her and something in her heart leapt as she whipped around to face him.

"They... they're engaged?!" she shrieked. "What--how--when--why didn't they tell me?!" she blurted clumsily, a mixture of excitement and outrage coursing through her.

"Hold on," Harry said in a low voice, looking at once regretful. "Ginny--"

"Is it true? It is! Why didn't anyone tell me?! Just because I live in a different country does not mean--what is it?" she said impatiently as Harry continued to mumble incoherently.

"Look, the reason you don't know is because nobody knows," he said a worried voice. "I'm the only one and it can't get back to your family, so you can't say anything about it to them."

"But--but-- but--" she sputtered.

"It's a secret, Ginny, I wasn't supposed to tell anyone--"

"Well, why not, what are they waiting for? Is Ron getting cold feet?" she demanded.

"No," Harry laughed wearily, rubbing his eyes underneath his glasses. "I... don't know what they're waiting for, they just aren't telling anyone yet, so... please, you can't tell anyone you know. Not even your mother. Especially not your mother."

"Well, when are they going to--"

"I have no more information. Sorry."

Ginny blew out a huge breath and planted a hand on her hip. "I just bet you don't. You know everything. Tell me."

"Please, just... try to forget that you know. Please?"

"As if. Harry, please, just--" But she broke off with an exaggerated groan when he looked pointedly in the other direction. Honestly, what was he thinking, blurting it out like that and expecting to remain silent? After about twenty torturous seconds of staring at his profile as though she could will him to talk, Ginny rolled her eyes.

"Fine. Have it your way then. I, for one, cannot believe this. Do you know what's so amazing? That my brother actually asked Hermione to--wait, he did ask her, didn't he?" she demanded in a deadly voice, turning to look at Harry and almost tripping over a curb. "Oh, please tell me she didn't ask him, oh, that would be just so typical of Ron, wouldn't it? Harry!"

Harry gave her a pained look. "Ginny."

"Oh, go on with you, I won't tell anyone, I swear."

He shook his head and took a slow, deep breath.

"He asked her."

And that was the last bit of information Ginny could get from him.

~*~

It should have been easy to keep the secret. Since Ginny didn't see her family everyday, it should have been more than simple to just ... not write and share the news. However, since nearly every member of her family had decided to write to her that weekend, including Ron and Hermione, it was a challenge. As she scribbled a response to George's short note, it was all she could do not to gloat that she knew something he didn't and it was twice as tempting not to casually mention to Hermione that she would murder her if she even thought about choosing wedding robes without her.

After reading her rather uneventful letter to Hermione, Ginny dared to stop and wonder whether it would be all that bad if she were to just... tell Hermione that she knew. Hermione was probably dying to talk to someone else about it ...someone female, that is. Someone with whom she could giggle and talk about all the details and act like ... like a girl.

Chewing on her quill, Ginny slid back into her chair and thought very carefully about the consequences. It would be going against her promise to Harry, but really, he could be so dramatic at times. She wondered if he was just being stupid. Although he had been rather nervous about the entire thing. Perhaps it was something that her brother and Hermione really and truly wanted to keep quiet.

But so what if it was?

First of all, Ginny didn't understand that. Why keep the news hidden? Everyone had been waiting years for this very thing; it wasn't as though it would exactly be shocking or anything. If it were her wedding--but Ginny stopped that thought with a lift of her brow. If it were her wedding, she would probably refrain from telling her brothers for as long as possible to avoid the teasing. But that was the only reason--Hermione wouldn't tease, Hermione would be a wonderful person to share the news with. Hermione would be one of the first to know... probably.

Definitely.

Hermione was like her sister--

A massive grin spread across Ginny's face.

Sister.

Honestly, Harry was being so ridiculous--he knew, why couldn't she know? Ginny had wanted a sister for all of her twenty-three years; this event was as special to her as it was to anyone else. And besides, she had always been very talented at keeping secrets so it wasn't as though Hermione had reason to be worried that she would spread the word. After all, Harry hadn't been all that secretive... he'd blurted it out as though it was common knownledge.

But he had regretted it immediately and hadn't said another word for the entire walk to the flat, hadn't he?

Ginny gave a long and confused sigh as the door opened and Brian walked in.

"What's wrong?" he asked and Ginny made a noise in the back of her throat, still staring at the parchment and chewing on her quill.

"I know a secret."

"Does it involve me?" he asked at once.

"No, it--"

"Then don't tell me, you'll only regret it."

Ginny huffed out a breath. "I wasn't going to, I was-hang on. You've never met my brother... or Hermione."

"Hmm?"

"I mean to say, it's not like you know them at all--you just know them from what I've told you..." she reasoned.

Brian was looking at Ginny very peculiarly. "I... never said I knew them personally."

"I know, I'm just thinking that if I tell you the secret, it won't make a difference because--why are you shaking your head?"

"Because you shouldn't tell me."

"But, why?" she whined, almost stomping her foot. "I've got to tell somebody, Bri, and you're not important--"

"Stop, love, you're flattering me."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "I meant you're not important to them--well, you are of course, since you're my friend, but--well, you know what I mean--it won't make any difference to you--"

"That's exactly why you shouldn't tell me. I won't be properly outraged or excited or whatever, because I don't know the people involved."

"But, so what?" she laughed, thinking he was being ridiculous. This was clearly big news to her and since when did he care about such technicalities?

"Seriously, Gin, don't tell me," he said, his face absolutely impassive. He moved to grab a newspaper that was lying on the worktop and opened it up.

"Well," she said at last, thinking it wasn't worth a fight, which it quite oddly seemed to be turning into. "I suppose I don't need to tell you, that's all right. I don't know what's happening to me, though," she commented, setting down her quill and capping the ink- bottle. "I'm usually very good at keeping secrets."

Brian was silent at this and when Ginny turned to look at him, she saw that one of his eyebrows was arched as he leaned against the worktop, scanning his article. All of a sudden, she felt something uneasy slip into the pit of her stomach. He hadn't said anything at all and the look on his face was more vacant than anything, but just as she'd felt the other night when she'd told him about Harry, Ginny could sense... something. Something not right.

When she'd first met Brian, Ginny had been trying with everything she had to forget that Harry Potter existed and it had been such a complete exorcism of her feelings that in the end, she had become almost immune to anything connected to him. Hearing his name on the street, reading about him from letters and seeing his photographs in the papers had stopped affecting her the way it once had. In fact, it didn't affect her at all--it was like hearing about what was happening with someone she'd been merely acquainted with in school... a distant friend or an old acquaintance. And so, when Brian had come along, reading his worldly newspapers and mentioning Harry Potter doing this and accomplishing that, she would comment with the detached interest that she'd truly and honestly felt.

Ginny stared unseeingly down at the parchment, her mind going in circles, trying to decipher if she was being overly sensitive. It was on the tip of her tongue to just ask him if there was anything wrong ... but something held her back.

Feeling suddenly out of place in her own home, Ginny slid her chair back from the table. "All right, so do you want to go out to dinner later?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Brian said, setting the paper aside. "I have homework first, though."

"As do I," Ginny nodded, and when he didn't say anything else, she gathered her parchment and ink. "Well...I'll be in my room... let me know if any post arrives?"

"Right."

And that was that.

***

The underlying feeling that Brian was angry with her continued to exist in Ginny's mind for the next few days even though Brian hadn't acted any differently at all after that initial conversation (or lack thereof) in the kitchen. But Ginny just couldn't forget his odd reaction to her secret and she found herself hiding the fact that she was in touch with Harry now. Part of her couldn't wait until they all went home so that Brian could see that as much as she and Harry were trying to pretend that they were great friends while he was in Paris, Harry was Ron's friend, not hers.

After the initial rush of letters from her family at the beginning of the week, Ginny received two more towards the middle of the week, one from Sarah and one from her mum.

Sarah's was thick with apologies and regrets that she wouldn't be able to visit France at the end of term as they had always planned. She had been promoted at her job (from receptionist to private secretary) and she was currently traveling with her employer who held "a very important position at the Ministry." Sarah didn't go on to specify which position that was--she'd been too busy apologizing for nearly four pages.

When Ginny finally finished reading Sarah's letter, she felt a stab of sadness. She had been very much looking forward to traveling around with her. What with being so involved in the lives of Brian and Aurelie and Christian and everyone, Ginny found herself feeling quite distanced from Sarah. She had truly wanted to get back the same bond they'd shared for so long and traveling round France had been just the thing Ginny had hoped for.

She started in on her mother's letter then, glad to have the flat to herself. Brian had gone to meet a date and Maurice was at his perch by the window as Ginny curled up on the sofa, sipped her cup of tea, opened the parchement. And nearly five minutes later, her mouth hung open in complete shock.

Three months. Three months. She stared at the words on the letter, ignoring Maurice's squawks for food. Apparently, Harry had been away from home for three months.

It wasn't so much that he hadn't made a physical appearance, Molly explained, but since he'd left three months ago (without telling anyone that he was leaving, mind) he hadn't been in contact with anyone. Not Ron, not Hermione... not anyone. The only reason everyone from home knew that Harry was in France was because the Daily Prophet had announced that he was to be attending the Auror's Convention.

Ginny's mum managed to finalize the over-wrought letter with a few words of reassurance to Ginny that Harry did do this often as his job required it, and he couldn't keep in touch most of the time anyway because it was often dangerous to send owls from his location. But three months was an unusually long time for him to be away without so much as a word and if Ginny was able to have contact with him, would she please ask him to get in touch with Ron or Hermione?

Ginny reread the letter again and sat on the sofa for a few good minutes before sending off a very brief note to her mother. She assured her that Harry was quite healthy and doing fine, that she didn't know when she would see him next due to her busy schedule, but she would definitely mention something to him if and when she saw him.

However, Ginny was not going to do anything of the sort. She was, in fact, rather angry. So she was supposed to be in the middle of this now, was she? She was, all of sudden, the connection everyone had to Harry. And it wasn't just any Harry. It was a Harry who hadn't been in contact with anyone for three months, a Harry who had failed to mention this to Ginny and who had actually probably lied about it in one of their dull conversations over the past weeks. And there had been many dull conversations, so many, in fact that Ginny couldn't possibly remember every pointless thing they had talked about. She was sure, however, that they had talked about home, which would have been a prime opportunity to tell her that he hadn't been there for three months, much less had any conact with the people in which they spoke about.

But he hadn't. He'd left it out. Or lied. Ginny couldn't remember which, but it was the same thing really. Harry was keeping something from everyone and she was right in the middle of it.

Actually, she wasn't right in the middle of it, she reminded herself firmly. Not for long anyway. Because she was going to completely remove herself from the middle and anyone who didn't find that convenient would just have to live with it. She was not going to provide her mother with information on Harry and she certainly wasn't going to play confidant to the Harry who was now before her and try to find out why he'd disappeared for three months and why he hadn't written, blah blah blah.

Her life was far too full without Harry Potter barging into it again - in any respect.

There was a knock on her door later that evening and since she'd put to rest her bitterness over Harry's problems and had thrust away the stabbing guilt because she was willing to just dismiss them, the thought that she would come face to face with the man himself at her threshold never dared to enter her mind.

"Hey," said Harry uncomfortably, as though someone had forced him to come.

Ginny regarded him with wary eyes. It wasn't enough that he had showed up in Paris, in her world, but now he was appearing unannounced at her flat as well?

"I didn't mean to intrude or anything," he said quickly, his eyes nervously darting to hers. "But I sort of needed to talk to you."

Her brow shot up. He sounded matter-of-fact and serious, and she almost sighed with resignation that he might just bring up the very news she'd heard from her mother.

"You're not intruding at all. Come on in. It's messy," she said unnecessarily as she stepped back to let him in. It wasn't a record-breaking mess, but it was well on its way. "I haven't had the chance to do much today."

Harry looked as if he'd just realized he was in a place he'd never been before. "Oh... it's nice," he said lamely. "You've got a lot of room."

"Yeah, we--" She bit down on her tongue. Hard. "--do." She really didn't want him to question just who 'we' consisted of.

But he seemed not to have heard her. "Listen, what I wanted to talk to you about is... well...."

Ginny stood, pretending to look curious, while rapidly trying to think of what her response was going to be.

"I wanted to tell you," Harry continued gravely, "how very important it is that you don't tell Ron and Hermione that you know about the engagement."

He'd said it so bluntly, looking so completely honest that Ginny opened her mouth to respond to something else.

"What?" she asked in confusion a moment later.

"It's just... very important that they don't know I've told you, Ginny," he said seriously. "Even after they've told you themselves. I know it's awful of me to ask you to lie, but I wouldn't do it if it wasn't extremely important."

Ginny shook her head and searched for something to say. "I--it's fine. I told you I wouldn't say anything--"

"No, really, I need to have your word on it."

"Harry," she said on a sudden laugh. "I'm sure you're making more of this than you need to. I don't think they would be as angry as you make it seem."

But Harry started shaking his head before Ginny had even finished. "I knew you'd say that," he said impatiently. "You have to understand, Ginny..." he trailed off and she looked at him peculiarly.

"Well, what is it then?" she asked at last.

Harry stood for a moment, looking torn. Then he ran his hand slowly through his thick hair and Ginny's eyes strayed absently to his forehead and suddenly-revealed scar.

"Look," he said, his voice suddenly sharp, "The reason they haven't told anyone about this yet is because they're waiting for you."

Ginny's eyebrows shot up. "Me?"

"They didn't want everyone else to find out before you did and rather than send you a note with the big news, they decided to wait until you were home to announce it to everyone. That's why you can't tell them that I told you," he pressed, his eyes looking directly into hers. "It... it was an accident and I didn't mean to say it, it just sort of came out, but if they knew I'd told you, they would go mad."

A minute ago, Ginny didn't think she could be more confused, but her bewilderment seemed to multiply. For a minute, she stared at him in complete loss as to what to say. And then, because she just couldn't leave well enough alone, she demanded,

"Does this have anything to do with why you haven't been home in three months?"

Harry's brow shot up. Ginny stared in horror. Why, why, why had she said it? Her mouth opened, then closed... then opened again and closed again. As she stood there like a gaping fish, she saw a tiny window of escape--it was small, but she could probably crawl through by insisting that she was stupid for bringing that up and her mother was worried and overreacting in a letter and he could just forget that she'd said anything at all.

Yeah, right.

"I've just received a letter from Mum," she explained, looking at him squarely, trying not to jump to conclusions, but failing. She knew damn well this wasn't some big mistake and now it was going to be blown up. Because, as she knew all too well, she couldn't leave well enough alone. "She mentioned how worried she was, seeing as it's been so long since anyone's heard anything from you."

The expression of utter confusion on his face became slowly mingled with suspicion. "You...wrote to her about me?"

"Yes," she said carefully, "I was writing to her after we'd had breakfast that morning and I told her about it. But she already knew you were here from the Daily Prophet."

Harry looked bewildered. "So... if she knows I'm here, why is she so worried?"

"Well, it's not just Mum. Ron and Hermione, too. Apparently, they thought that you couldn't keep in contact with anyone but when they found out that you'd been in contact with me, well..." she trailed off, looking at him closely. "I suppose they were a bit ... curious why you hadn't written."

Harry breathed through his nose. "I wish they'd stop... doing this. My job has restrictions. There are things I can't do and..." He shook his head in frustration.

Loyalty to her family had Ginny narrowing her eyes, "I'm sure they're just concerned about you, Harry. Obviously if you've been owling me, then they see no reason why you can't owl them. Is it some sort of distance problem; you can't send post to a different country, or...?"

"Look," he said in a patient voice, as if he was going to explain something that she probably wouldn't understand, "It's complicated, all right? There are reasons I can't keep in touch and reasons I have to be away for so long. Do they think I want to be away? Is that it?"

"I don't know what they think, Harry," she said, lifting a hand and letting it fall back to the cushion. "All I know is that it's rather odd to just leave and not write for months."

Harry shook his head impatiently, as if it was pointless to argue with her because she wouldn't understand. Then he stopped suddenly, as if realizing something. "You did it for years."

Ginny's lips parted in surprise. "What...I've kept in touch with everyone."

His eyes met hers in a dull challenge. "I don't remember ever receiving a letter from you."

There was a moment where they simply looked at one another while she thought of a response. "You never wrote to me, either," she finally managed, completely taken aback.

"A bit of a difference, there."

"How is that?" she demanded.

"I don't write to anyone," he said dryly. Then he shrugged. "Look, I'm not trying to accuse you of anything, but you're nobody to talk about keeping in touch when you clearly didn't make an enormous effort."

"If you wanted to know how I was doing, all you needed to do was ask my family. Or write to me yourself. Nobody has heard from you. They can't ask anyone how you are and they thought they couldn't write to you."

"Right, it's my life, Ginny," he said in a final sort of way. "I don't have to explain anything to anyone."

"When people care about you, you have an obligation to them, you can't just--"

"What? Not write? You're a bloody hypocrite telling me this when you never bothered to write a goddamn letter to me in five years."

Ginny opened her mouth to respond when a discreet cough announced another presence in the room. She and Harry both turned, startled, towards the front door that was open. Brian was standing inside the room, looking from one to the other warily. Ginny felt her heart sink slowly.

"Sorry."

Brow arched, Brian walked passed the two of them into his bedroom and closed the door sharply.

"Right," Harry said shortly and pulled out his wand. With a pop, he was gone.

Ginny remained where she was, staring at the spot where Harry had been, her mind absolutely reeling.

"What was that about?"

She whirled around to see Brian standing at the door to his room.

"I... have no idea," she said wearily, shaking her head and pushing off from the back of the sofa. She tossed the cushion aside.

"Why didn't you tell me that you used to go out with him?"

Ginny's eyes flew to his and when she deduced that he was serious, she blurted, "I've never gone out with him."

Brian's brow went up even farther, obviously suggesting otherwise.

"I haven't," she exclaimed.

But Brian narrowed his eyes, a mixture of confusion and aggravation playing over his face. "Why do you feel you have to lie to me, Ginny?"

"I'm not lying to you, I did not go out with him," she said between her teeth.

"But you were good friends with him," he said, looking at her suspiciously.

"Not really," Ginny snapped, furious at the way he was looking at her. "And what if I had? Gone out with Harry? What's it to you?"

"I don't give a damn if you did, Ginny, I just don't understand why you lied to me."

"I didn't lie to you!" she exclaimed, completely frustrated. "I never said I didn't know him."

"Oh, don't give me that."

"No, don't start with all of this, Brian. I know you've been angry about that, but really--"

"No, really, Ginny," he interrupted her. "We've had conversations about him--long ones. Ones in which I've spoken at length about the sort of work he's done and it never crossed your mind to mention that you knew him personally? My God, he's Harry Potter!"

"Right, shut up with that, won't you!" she yelled, her temper exploding.

"It's the TRUTH!" he shouted. "It's important enough for you to mention it, so why didn't you?"

"Have you told me every single stupid thing about your life?" she shot at him, panic and fury and shame all skidding to a halt in her chest. She would not let this turn into a conversation about her history with Harry. That was none of Brian's damn business. "It's a little detail of my past that I didn't feel like sharing."

"Your past," he pressed, looking at her closely, but she refused to say another word on it and snapped her gaze to the window. "Right," he said sarcastically. "You know, don't tell me the truth, then. Write to Sarah about it."

Ginny didn't have the chance to respond--Brian left the flat, sending the door crashing into its frame.

~*~

It was completely horrible, spending an entire day anticipating telling your best friend your deepest, darkest secret. Ginny knew that she had to tell Brian the real reason she'd kept Harry a secret at first and it was a testimony to how long it had been since she'd truly thought about it that she dreaded bringing it all up and feeling that shame and humiliation again. Not to mention the fact that she would have to share it with Brian, whose opinion, Ginny admitted to herself, meant a lot to her.

It made her slightly bitter as well--not towards Brian, but towards the entire situation... and towards Harry. If he hadn't bloody shown up here, in her world, she wouldn't be in this predicament.

And she did feel cheated. Harry coming here had cheated her out of so much. Granted, it had been awhile since she'd actually thought about it, but in the beginning, playing over the scene in her mind--her grand homecoming as a changed woman and Harry witnessing every minute of it - had been such a huge thing to hold onto. Somewhere very, very, very deep inside of her had always dared to think that her return would be it--the change, the drive, the push Harry needed in order to finally see her. And she would be so triumphant because she would have stopped caring about him that way and she would be able to live her life and finally be happy and Harry would be the one wanting. Oh, it had been such a fantasy back then, such a good place for her to go when she felt positively miserable and alone and so far away from home.

But that was shot to hell now. There would be no grand entrance, there would be no triumph for her. Hadn't she realized back then, that where Harry was concerned, she would never come out on top? And even though she harbored none of that stupid, pathetic hope anymore, he was here to remind her, wreaking havoc on her life without even knowing it. How bloody predictable.

She and Harry were not friends. They'd shared something of a closeness when there had been a war going on, but that had been very long ago and things had changed so drastically that Ginny was now in a place where she could admit that it was time to stop pretending. It was the pretenses that always destroyed her where Harry was concerned and she couldn't believe that after all this time, she was still participating in it.

It didn't take a mastermind to figure out that Harry had problems right now. He needed something Ron and Hermione and the rest of the family obviously couldn't give him. It had happened so many times over the years, and in the old story it was she who would always step up and try to be that something he needed. But she couldn't do that now; it wasn't merely that she didn't want to; it just wasn't possible anymore. She wasn't the same person. Harry wasn't the same person. She didn't know him like she used to, and she didn't harbor any pretense that she could help him.

And if she had to drag everything up again, if she was going to tell Brian the entire truth, then it was the perfect time to remember, for her own sake that she could never be what Harry needed, simple as that.

"Ginny."

She nearly jumped out of her skin. The tray of dirty glasses she was balancing on her hip wobbled.

There he was again, appearing out of nowhere in the middle of her life, like a ghost. Or a thief. In his formal work robes, he looked so out of place that Ginny had to look around to make sure she hadn't accidentally Disapparated somewhere.

"How did you know I worked here?" was all she could think of to say.

"You told me," he said, drawing his brow. "At the Ministry, remember?"

"Oh." It seemed like an age ago, that day. "Right. Sorry."

"I didn't mean to interrupt your shift, but your... friend said that you were working, so...."

Friend? He'd been to the flat. Brian had spoken to him. Ginny tried not to think about how that conversation might have been.

"I thought we might... talk, if you're not too busy...." Harry looked around the café.

"Right," she said again, looking around herself and noting that all of her customers were happily eating. "Erm... I suppose I can take a break, let me just take this tray up to the bar."

"I'll wait outside," Harry said, ducking his head and Ginny noticed a couple at a nearby table gawking at him.

She agreed and, handing the tray to Christian, muttered to that she was taking a short break. Christian was frowning impatiently at Aurelie who was sitting atop the bar flirting with a customer so Ginny assured him that she wouldn't be long.

She met Harry outside, a short way down the trellis-lined path. He had his hands shoved into the pockets of his robes and he was staring at the ground, pacing slowly back and forth. Seeing him there, looking so much like himself, on the path that she'd walked up hundreds of times over the past few years was so strange to her... like a quick flash of the past in a present day setting.

"Hey," she called.

"Hey," he said, straightening a little. There was a brief silence as Ginny stopped in front of him and for a moment, they regarded each other a bit warily. Then they both began speaking at once.

"About yesterday--"

"Harry--"

They broke off and Ginny waited.

"Look, Ginny....I didn't mean to... say those things," Harry stammered. "I just... I get frustrated when everyone acts like this about my job and--"

"Harry," she interrupted, holding up a hand, "you don't have to explain anything to me. The truth is I had no business asking you about any of it."

"No... obviously you were curious because of what your Mum wrote and--"

"No, Harry wait," she interrupted before he could go any further. "Mum was wrong for writing to me about you. I'm not... you and I are not... really... friends anymore."

He looked up quickly and Ginny squeezed her eyes shut.

"I most certainly did not mean that the way it sounded. Five years is a really long time not to speak with someone. Look, we just... we just lost touch over the years and it was nobody's fault or anything, but... it just happened."

She paused a minute. "The past few weeks have been fun, haven't they? Sightseeing and everything. I mean, we are friends, you know that. It's just, after all this time, it's--it was stupid of me to act like you've lied to me about not writing home... or ... or even demand to know why. The truth is, it's none of my business and... it was really rude of me to jump to conclusions about what Mum said in her letter."

He shook his head. "I should have said something, I...well...five years is a long time. I suppose I just... forgot that I could, you know... that I could talk to you."

Ginny swallowed. "Well, we've both changed a lot, haven't we?"

"You have. I ... wouldn't have known you if I didn't... know you," he finished, looking rather confused at his own statement and Ginny let out a laughing breath.

"Okay. Good. I'm glad you're not... angry or anything."

He shook his head. "No. Not angry." A look of recollection came to his face. "Oh... I hope your... friend, er...doesn't think I'm a git."

Ginny looked at him with confusion before it dawned on her. "Oh. Oh... right. That was Brian McGuire, my flat mate."

Harry nodded, smiling a little. "Another thing I didn't know that I'm sure someone must have mentioned to me--or... does your family know about that?" he asked in a low voice.

"Brian? Yeah, they know him, they've--oh." She broke off and sighed. "Right. Brian is my friend, Harry. Just friend."

She watched the oh, so familiar look come into his eyes, the same look that everyone had when she told them that she and Brian weren't a couple. She was so tired of explaining about Brian to everyone and it was only going to get worse when they got home.

"Seriously," she protested. "He's my friend. I wouldn't be... living with him if he was more, which is ironic, but the truth."

Harry's eyes changed from slight suspicion to dawning realization.

"Right," he said quickly. "Right, of course."

Ginny shook her head. "Don't worry, you're not the first to draw that conclusion. And you will not be the last."

He nodded, looking uncomfortable and they lapsed into silence for a few moments. Then, once again, they both began speaking at the same time.

"Well--"

"I suppose I should--"

They broke off and Ginny forced a grin. "I suppose I should get back in there."

"Yeah," Harry said hastily. "Well... I expect I'll... see you..."

"Right...listen, why don't you stop in before you leave Paris? To say goodbye?"

"Sure," he said quickly, looking relieved that she had taken that matter into her hands. "I will. Thanks for everything, Ginny, really."

"You too," she smiled.

Then they parted ways, Harry down the long path to where the street began and Ginny back to her café.

***

It wasn't long before the night ended and after the last customers had gone and Christian had bolted the door, there was a knock. Ginny turned in surprise. There was really only one person who would knock after hours and as Christian was silently wiping down tables and Aurelie was counting her tips at the bar, Ginny went to open the door for Brian.

"Ready?" he asked, not meeting her eyes. He'd come to walk her home.

Ginny had been counting on the walk alone to think about how she would begin to explain everything when she got back to the flat. But there he was, and Ginny's heart felt heavy as she grabbed her handbag and turned to the others.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?" she said to her friends, receiving only a distracted smile from Aurelie and a nod from Christian. She frowned, thinking that everyone was in a rather foul mood today and followed Brian out.

"They seemed a bit weird tonight. Did something happen?" Brian asked her, sounding only semi-interested. Ginny knew he was only asking for something to say and she was glad that he'd spoken first.

"I don't know," Ginny said honestly as they fell into step outside. "I really didn't have the chance to talk to them tonight."

Brian nodded and they lapsed into silence. It was up to her now, she realized. She would have to explain it all to him and the thought suddenly made her feel like she was being smothered. She didn't want to bring it up. Not here. Not now, when she was finally in the position of never having to relive it again. But she had to.

"Look, Bri, about yesterday," she began.

But Brian shook his head. "You don't have to explain, Ginny. It's none of my business."

"Yes it is," she said, feeling suddenly and completely miserable. "Because I did lie to you. I just... I didn't know that... that we would wind up being such close friends. I didn't think it mattered if I told anyone about Harry because I never imagined that..." She shook her head. "I don't know. I just don't know. Harry...."

"Gin, you don't have to tell me," Brian said firmly. "It's not my business. No," he interrupted when she started to protest, "It's not. I was being selfish. I do that often," he said, sending her a sideways smirk. "And you've put up with a lot from me so... we're even, love, don't worry about it."

A hot lump lodged itself in her throat. She was afraid to speak, afraid of how weak her voice would sound and even though she wanted to be bigger than this and tell him everything because she owed it to him, she found that she was willing to take the out that Brian offered. She supposed a worse friend would demand to know.

There was a long silence as they walked and Brian began to talk about Quidditch and who was likely to wind up in the world cup this year. Ginny commented back, but just couldn't get excited about it. There was something still between them and Ginny knew it would never be okay, at least not with her, until she put it right.

"I don't like to talk about Harry."

There was a brief pause before Brian said in a hurried voice, "You don't have to."

"I know," she nodded. But maybe I need to.

And maybe she did. Maybe the getting over Harry process wasn't as complete as she'd thought. Maybe she needed Brian, her strongest link to life after Harry, to know about it.

A fresh breeze washed over them. Ginny watched the ground as they walked, their dark shadows moving along the pebbled path.

"I came to Paris to distance myself from Harry. I couldn't talk about him... or think about him. My first year here was not fun."

He nodded. "I remember."

She looked up at him quickly. "Remember what?"

"I knew there was something wrong with you at first," he said slowly. "But after a while, I just figured that it was a mental illness."

It took her a moment to realize it was a joke. She broke into a grin. And then, after a moment, her smile faded.

"I was in love with him."

The words hung in the air. Ginny realized that she had never said them out loud before.

"We never dated," she was quick to say. "I didn't lie to you about that."

Brian looked at her and there was confusion there. "Right. Sorry."

Ginny shook her head. "It's okay. I'm used to people assuming that I'm dating blokes that I'm friends with."

Brian grinned, but was very quiet as they continued to walk and Ginny sighed a bit after a few minutes.

"Look, Bri, don't ... don't think that Harry... I mean to say, I would hate to think that your image of him is changed--what?"

Brian had arched an eyebrow aimed at her in disbelief. "Ginny. The only image I have of Harry Potter now is the one where I punch his bloody lights out for whatever the hell he did to you."

Ginny clasped a hand to her mouth in horror. "Brian. Don't say that."

"Why?" he demanded.

"Because," she said, shaking her head miserably. She was moved by his loyalty, but terrified over what he must be thinking. "He's never done anything wrong--"

"Really?" he asked mildly. "Sounds like he broke your heart to me."

Ginny's throat went dry. "No. No. You can't think that... he...he didn't do anything wrong, Bri," she insisted in a low voice. "He doesn't even... know... about any of this...so, please." She ended the sentence on a rather desperate note and then looked up at him.

The look in Brian's eyes as he stared at her made Ginny's heart sink. He knew. It really was rather simple, wasn't it?

"I see," he said quietly.

Ginny let her gaze fall to the ground again, wondering if she would ever not feel those twinges of shame. "Look... it's all over and I am so completely fine now, and ... and so... bloody grateful to Harry. Because if I hadn't wanted to leave home, I would never have come here. And you would never have the pleasure of cleaning up my dirty socks if I hadn't," she joked, linking her arm through his, trying to lighten things up.

"Please, Bri," she pleaded in a low voice when he was still quite silent. "I don't think about him anymore. It doesn't... matter anymore."

"All right," he said at last. "I won't ... punch his lights out."

Ginny's lips twitched in amusement. "Okay. Thank you," she said, managing to keep a straight face, tugging on the sleeve of his shirt. "So, what's been happening at home? You know I've been avoiding you all day?"

"Yeah, I noticed. I killed the bird while you were at work. He was getting on my last nerve."

"Well, then I'll have to challenge you to a duel and kill you--"

"Come on, love, be serious. I'm bigger than you."

She heaved a sigh. "Obviously, you didn't know me in my childhood years. I was a force to be reckoned with."

"Oh, yeah?" he asked.

"Yeah," she tossed at him. "I was taught by the best."

"Well, then, name the time and the place and I'll be there."

"All right." Ginny waited a beat. And then, feeling somewhat elated by their conversation and needing to bring things back to familiar ground, she grabbed her wand and whirled around, just as Brian yanked out his. They stood face to face, pointing their wands at each other, waiting for the other to make a move.

"I'll give you the first one, love, go ahead," Brian offered.

Ginny was no fool. She tossed her hair back and opened her mouth to shout her curse, when Brian called out his first. In the knick of time, Ginny switched her spell to deflect his Tickling Charm.

"That was well done, I'll give you that," Brian commented casually, as if they were simply conversing and didn't have his wand pointed at Ginny's chest. Or have one pointed at his own.

"You cheat," she retorted, jerking her wand higher. "I shouldn't even continue with this duel on principle."

"Then bow out."

"Never."

The words that Ginny shouted next were so quick and her wand swish so practiced that Brian didn't have the time or the knowledge to deflect her spell. The jet of yellowish light hit him right where she'd aimed and Brian doubled over clasping one hand to his nose to stop the stream that suddenly burst from it.

Ginny couldn't stop laughing for the life of her. She clung to a nearby lamppost, holding her side as Brian managed to reverse the hex and clean it up. She was holding her breath, tears blurring her eyes, her wand hand shaking, but still raised slightly just in case.

"That... was the most childish thing you have ever done, Ginevra."

Ginny tried to respond, but all that came out was a high-pitched squeak-like sound. "You cheated," she managed finally. "You de-de-de-deserved it!"

Brian nodded, looking at her very intently. Ginny straightened and held her wand at the ready, her shoulders still trembling with laughter. "Well," he said abruptly, tucking his wand into the waistband of his jeans. "You won, then."

Ginny stared at him. "What?" she said, her voice still shaky from all the laughing. "What do you mean? You're not..."

"You won," Brian said simply.

"You never let me win."

"I will this time."

Ginny stared at him, grinning. "If you think you're going to get me later, when I least suspect it--"

"Now that's an idea," Brian said thoughtfully and Ginny let out a cry of outrage.

"You can't do that!"

"I can't?"

"No! It's not fair."

"I don't play fair," Brian said, grinning wickedly.

Ginny stood in amused fury with the urge to simply hex him again for the hell of it. But she let her arm drop to her side. "I hate you."

"Glad to hear it," he said, taking her arm and starting back down the path towards the flat.

"If you retaliate, the next time you have a woman in the flat, I'll cast my bat-bogey hex on her," she threatened as they stepped into the round courtyard and up the stone footpath to the building.

Brian sent her a sideways smile as he opened the door. "You started it, love. It's about to get good...and you won't even know when it's coming."

Huffing out a breath, Ginny followed him inside.