Harry Potter and Unexpected Beginnings

Chapter fifteen

The doors to the Great Hall opened, and Professor McGonagall entered, followed behind by thirty very small witches and wizards, all in black robes and looking terrified. Harry's mind shifted to that fateful day, six years ago, when he stood there with Hermione, Ron and Malfoy; when the sorting hat had placed him in Gryffindor, and when his life began for the first real time. He felt like he was born on that day, beneath that same enchanted ceiling. He had found his home at last, the one true place where he belonged.

Harry watched the young children approach the sorting hat, hearing McGonagall telling them what was about to happen to them as she stepped into the center of the room, carrying the stool and sorting hat. After finishing her lecture, she stepped aside to allow the old, patched and tattered hat to say its piece.

"Words of wisdom have I now,

For those of faith and those of doubt,

Four have joined and one will soon,

Before the battle beneath the moon.

Secrets yet have been untold,

The future for us still unfolds.

So listen now, my rhyme's near spent,

The houses four, wisdom meant,

One will stand affront the five,

To live he must, fight or die.

So guard them well the five who've joined,

Anger and fear, the future points,

The walls of Hogwart's stand strong and sure,

For darkness there's one true cure,

When evil bangs upon the door,

Lend thee faith, to Dumbledore."

"I think that hat needs replacing," Ron grumbled as an awkward applause politely sounded.

"When I call your name, you will come forward," McGonagall was saying, and the sorting process began. Nine were chosen among the children for Ravenclaw, seven for Hufflepuff, three for Slytherin and eleven for Gryffindor. Harry looked down the table, seeing the many new faces that joined them glancing or outright staring at him. He knew they were looking at his scar, and eagerly talking about being in the same house as the famous Harry Potter. It was enough to make his skin crawl.

"For those new students, I would like to point out several school rules that must be obeyed," Professor Dumbledore said, as the room came to a reverent silence. He began issuing the usual orders, "the Forbidden Forrest is off limits to all students," and so on. The newer students looked on in interest and fascination as the old wizard gave his orders, while the older students fidgeted, having heard the same lecture every year since they were first given them.

"Now, I know you're all hungry, but before we begin the feast," Dumbledore said, looking over the rim of his glasses to where Ron sat, causing the young man to blush. "I would like to take this opportunity to welcome our new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Nymphadora Tonks. Professor Tonks comes to us from the Ministry of Magic, where she has served several years as an Auror. I'm sure we will all learn a great deal from our newest faculty member." The students applauded the woman, who blushed vividly, while Ron, Harry and Neville whistled loudly for her.

"Without further adieu," Professor Dumbledore said waiving his hand. "Let the feast begin." The newest students gasped as the tables and plates filled with a large amount of food, all different types and verities, the older students simply began eating, while the castle's ghosts appeared, making their usual first of the term rounds. The first years were fascinated with the Bloody Barren, the Fat Friar and the Gray Lady, but it was the appearance of Nearly Headless Nick that caused the most anxiety. One little Gryffindor, a little girl by the name of Sabrina Wagtail, became so overcome when Nick's head fell to his shoulder she passed out in her rice pudding.

"Students," Professor Dumbledore said, interrupting the many voices happily chatting around full stomachs and growing fatigue. "Your house Prefects will lead the first years to their dormitories, while the rest of you turn in. Tomorrow starts a new set of classes. Good-night."

Hermione nudged Ron's arm, shortly after his third helping of mashed potatoes, fried chicken, kippers, jammie dodgers and scones. He looked up at her, his mouth wrapped around the rim of a golden goblet filled with pumpkin juice. He had finally had enough to make him feel content, at least until breakfast.

"Come on," Hermione insisted. "We have to lead the first years to the dormitories." Ron stood up, but leaned down when Harry called his name.

"When you're finished, we have to get started on that potion for Neville," he whispered. "Meet us in Myrtle's bathroom." Ron nodded, hurrying behind Hermione who was already calling to the first years to follow her. Harry waited with Ginny until the Great Hall had cleared of new students, then stood and headed out the door. He looked across the main hall and saw Draco Malfoy walking silently with Crabbe and Goyle, who were snickering and pointing at the group of new Slytherins. Harry knew there was trouble brewing, no doubt a dirty trick to be had on the innocent children. He was about to head their way and put a stop to whatever it was the mammoth two were planning, when Malfoy intervened. He grabbed Goyle by the robes, his face merely inches from the larger boy. His face was angry and distorted, as he grabbed the small package hidden under his companion's robes. Harry could hear only a portion of what Malfoy was saying, but from the look on Crabbe and Goyle's face, he knew what he didn't hear was far worse then what he did.

"I have had enough of your foolish, thick headed antics," Malfoy was saying. "If you pull so much as one trick on any of those kids, you'll have me to answer to. You're just like your fathers, big, stupid and worthless. Get out of my way both of you, before I curse you straight to hell where the whole lot of you belong." Malfoy stormed off toward the Slytherin dungeons; leaving behind him two very stunned boys to stare after him.

"That didn't sound much like the Malfoy we've all grown to hate and despise," Ginny said, as she and Harry headed up to the Gryffindor common room.

"I'm just glad someone finally put a stop to those two's tricks, especially on first years," Harry told her, leading her to the fat lady's portrait, giving the password pickled toad livers and stepped inside. He could hear Hermione giving the first years the long list of rules, in her usual bookish tone, as he hurried up the stairs.

"I'll get the book, you get the ingredients. I'll meet you in the common room in a few minutes," he told her, heading toward the sixth year dorms. He opened the door to find Neville, Seamus and Dean all inside, pajamas already on and sitting on their beds exchanging stories of their summer.

"What's up Harry?" Seamus asked, watching Harry scavenge through his trunk for the spell book and his invisibility cloak.

"I have to take something to Ginny," he told them absently, wrapping his invisibility cloak around the book, and retrieving the Marauder's Map, his back to the room's occupants.

"We were just talking Harry," Neville said, stopping him from leaving the room. "Are you going to start up the D.A. lessons again, this year?"

"I don't know," he answered. "Dumbledore's back, and I'm not sure if there's a need for it."

"Dumbledore may be back, but Vol...Vol...You-Know-Who is still alive," Dean told him boldly. "We have to have all our senses and skills for when we confront him and his type."

"You can't give up, Harry," Seamus told him. "We need the D.A., and that weird looking Defense teacher doesn't look like she doesn't know much more about the dark arts, than Trelawney does about predictions."

"Don't worry about Tonks," Harry told them with a smile. "She's much better than she looks."

"You know her?" Seamus asked in surprise.

"We both do," Neville told his roommates proudly. "She helped us at the Ministry and she's great."

"That doesn't stop us from needing the D.A. back," Dean told them. "Harry, you have to start it back up, I learned more about dark arts in one year from you, than I have in five years here. With the exception of the fake Moody in fourth year."

"Third year was really good," Neville added, remembering how Lupin had taught him to stand up to the Bogart Snape.

"Yeah, well I'll think about it," Harry said remembering why he was in a hurry. "I have to talk to Ginny. See you later." Harry hurried out of the room and down the stairs to find the red haired girl waiting for him, caldron in one hand and her potions kit in the other.

"What took you so long?" she asked him.

"I'll tell you later. Got everything?" Ginny raised her kit to him.

"It was easier to sneak out of my room with this, rather than a handful of loose potion ingredients. Easier to explain too."

"Great, then lets go." He unwrapped the book, tossing the cloak over his head, hiding the two of them from sight. They stepped to the portrait hole and pushed it open, then slipped quietly out the door. Harry unfolded the map and touched it with his wand saying, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." Images of the school's halls and occupants immediately appeared on the blank sheet of paper, revealing the little dots of Harry and Ginny in the hall outside their dorm, Filch and Snape together in the Potions Classroom, Dumbledore on the stairs to his office, (which stopped then slowly continued up), McGonagall was in the Transfigurations classroom, Madame Pomfrey was in the hospital wing, and in a small room marked Main Hall Closet, were the two very small, very close dots of Ron and Hermione. Harry smiled at Ginny, folding his map again and walking quickly beside the red head, to the second floor girl's bathroom.

Inside, they set up the cauldron and opened the book, as Moaning Myrtle's spirit appeared from the U-bend of the toilet. Her cries echoed through the stone and porcelain room, and Harry glanced to the sink that led to the Chamber of Secrets, before turning back to see Myrtle emerging from her stall. She stopped with a gasp, and then giggled when she saw them.

"Oh, hello Harry," she said in a little girl's voice. "How are you?"

"I'm good Myrtle," Harry said, hoping his voice didn't sound as uncaring as he knew it had. "How are you?"

"Dreadful," she moaned. "You haven't been to see me, in ages. I thought you'd forgotten about me."

"Never," Harry lied. "You've been a friend too long, to just forget." This caused the ghost to giggle until she saw Ginny sitting on the floor.

"Who's that?" Myrtle asked bitterly.

"This is Ginny Weasley, she's my...very good friend," Harry told her, smiling at Ginny who blushed in response.

"Friend, huh? You mean girlfriend?" Myrtle said, sounding worse then she had. "I should have known you'd find a girlfriend. Forget about Myrtle, she's dead, why would anyone want to have Myrtle as a girlfriend? What fun would miserable, ugly, Moaning Myrtle be?" With this said, Myrtle began wailing, turning and disappearing back into her stall.

"She's a little sensitive," Harry told Ginny, then set out to create the potion. He began reading off the ingredients, as Ginny carefully measured and mixed each one.

"In one liter of Dragon's blood, add a pinch of Graphorn, mixed with the juice of the hellebore plant. Stir together six times, with the feather of Jobberknoll. Add seven tubeworms and a pint of bubotuber pus," Harry grimaced. "It's a good thing Ron isn't here yet, he'd be joining Myrtle in her toilet. Next add two peeled Abyssinian shrivelfigs, a tablespoon of ginger for taste, and bring to a boil, then reduce the flames beneath the caldron to simmer. Once the potion has thickened, approximately ten hours, it will turn to a clear brown liquid. At this point add a piece of whatever the person is afraid of, mix until dissolved and return to a boil. Allow to cook two hours, before administering. When properly stored, this potion will last up to twenty-four months. Well that should do it," Harry concluded, as he watched Ginny add the ginger, using her wand ignited a fire beneath the cauldron. They leaned back and watched the mixture as it began steaming. The smell was nauseating, causing even Myrtle to complain, splashing her way back down to the U-bend of the toilet.

Harry moved with Ginny to the sidewall, wrapping his arms around her, as she took the book and began flipping through the many pages. Harry watched her scan across page after page, knowing what it was she was truly looking for. He sighed deeply, leaning in and kissing her neck. He had to make her understand his feelings, but he was afraid of hurting her, of chasing her away.

"Don't rush it, okay?" he whispered into her ear, as he teased the tender lobe with the tip of his tongue. Ginny sighed, leaning her head back against the wall, giving him better access to her throat, which he quickly took full advantage of.

"How can you ask me to go slow, when you kiss me like this?" she asked, his arms wrapping around her waist.

"Do you want me to stop?" he whispered against her ear as he came back from planting hot kisses along her throat and collarbone.

"That's my point Harry," she told him. "I don't want you to ever stop."

"But I'm not ready for the full extent of this. This part is fun, really fun, and I don't mind going further, but not all the way, not yet."

"Usually it's the girl who says this, not the guy," Ginny smiled, sensing his sudden tension. Harry laughed, hugging her to him.

"Please understand Ginny," he told her a few moments later, looking into her eye, his hand cupping her cheek. "You have grown up in a wonderful, loving family. You've known what it's like to be happy and laugh, and know that you're wanted and loved. I have never known any of that until I met your family."

"You're a part of that family now, Harry."

"It's not the same thing. Years of pain and despair can't be washed away with only a few hugs and kisses, no matter how marvelous they are. I just need time to get used to these feelings."

"Are you afraid of loosing me?" Ginny pushed back, looking into his deep green eyes, seeing the passion and confusion echoing in their depths.

"Every day I wake up, I'm terrified I'll find out it was all a dream, or you've fallen out of love with me."

"It won't happen, Harry Potter." Ginny leaned into him, kissing him so hard, he fell back on the cold stone floor, his arms still wrapped around her waist, her arms securely around his neck. Her kiss was hard, passionate, and as she lay on top of him, she could feel his response pressing against her thigh. When she realized that she was bruising his lips, she eased up slightly, feeling the tip of his tongue easing between her teeth, teasing and tasting the dark recesses beyond. He moaned deep in her mouth, as she shifted against him, allowing him to press against her tighter. Rolling her to her back, he found an even more convenient position, as she spread her legs for him to lie between, her heels entwining around his knees. He could feel the heat radiating from her lower torso, as he pressed against her. Within him was a full raging battle, his mind was telling him to stop, slow down, back off, while his heart was telling him to love her, take her, make her his. He couldn't believe how much he loved her, and yet how afraid he was all in one instant. It wasn't until he felt her hands pulling his jumper up, exposing the tight skin of his back to her delicate fingers, that he could no longer hear the voices in his head. With very little persuasion, he was able to duplicate her actions, his hands slipping beneath her jumper, feeling the slight protrusion of her ribs against her sides. He was amazed at how his fingers actually itched, forcing him to move them upwards to rest beneath her breasts.

"Harry," Ginny whispered, when he released her lips to kiss his way down her throat. "I love you." Harry found his way back to her lips, kissing them thoroughly before placing his mouth next to her ear, whispering, "I love you, Ginny, with all my heart."

"Please Harry," she whispered again as his fingers began to caress the under band of her lacy bra. "Please." Harry couldn't bare her pleads, his hands pulled at the lacy material, pushing it out of his way and gently cupping her firm breasts in his hands. He was amazed at how she felt as though she had been made just for him, how she fit perfectly in his hands, her legs and arms matching him, easily fitting against every one of his own curves. He couldn't believe it would be possible for him to want her more, or to become any more aroused, but when his hips began to push against her, he realized how wrong he was.

With actions that seemed out of his control, Harry kissed his way down her neck, moving down to her flat tummy, kissing every inch of it, his hands caressing her warm breasts, his fingers playing with the hardened nipples. His tongue licked around her tiny navel, making a hot, moist path up and across her ribs to the dip between her breasts. He pushed her jumper over her breasts, relishing in the sight of her exposed body. He loved the moan she offered as he again began to kiss her delicate skin, smiling at the sensations her body gave him in the form of goose bumps. He couldn't believe he was actually feeling her beneath him, or in his hands. She was beautiful, soft, delicate, her skin felt like satin beneath his touch. Slowly he led his lips and tongue across the few inches to her firm breast. He kissed the swollen globe, licking his way around the underside, up the front to the pebble hard nipple. He paused for a moment leaning up and looking into her eyes, wondering if the gasp she had just offered was one of pain. She smiled at him, her eyes a dark chocolate brown, as passion consumed them. With a smile, he leaned back down, resuming his tender assault against her delicate flesh.

His tongue gently caressed the hardened peak, feeling her arch against his lips. He felt eager, brave, and slowly played with the delicate nub, nipping it gently, licking and kissing until her hips were pressing harder against his loins. He could barely stand it; he had never known such a deep, carnal feeling. He wanted more, needed to feel more. He moved his mouth to the other breast, paying it the same homage, as his right hand slowly moved to her hips, pulling them closer to him, pressing against them savagely. He reached the hem of her skirt and was about to pull it up, when he heard an audible gasp from the other side of the room.

"What the...bloody hell!" Ron exclaimed, as Harry's head popped up, moving quickly off Ginny, blocking her near nakedness from her brother's view. Harry felt momentarily stunned. He couldn't remember or think of anything, other than the feelings still raging inside him. All he could do was stare blankly at Ron and Hermione standing by the entrance of the bathroom.

"Ronald Weasley," Ginny snapped, adjusting her clothes. "Next time, give a person some warning before you barge in on them."

"From the looks of what I saw, you wouldn't have paid attention to anything I said, regardless of warnings. Now, care to explain yourself Potter?" Harry swallowed hard, trying to get his throat to work, but no sound would come out.

"Do you want to explain what the two of you were doing in the main hall closet, first?" Ginny demanded, standing up and confronting her brother, watching the blushed expression cross his face and the girl's next to him.

"We sure as hell wasn't doing what I saw you two doing?" Ron exclaimed bitterly.

"Enough," Harry said, finally reclaiming his voice. "I won't apologize for what happened...or nearly happened, all I can do is explain that it was totally unexpected and unplanned. Now, if we can get this potion finished, we can get back to our dorms, or we'll all end up in detention before the term officially begins."

"It had better not happen again, or I'll..." Ron tried to threaten his friend, who stood and confronted him, but was interrupted with the slender frame of his little sister pushing between them.

"Back off Ronald," she ordered. "I will do what I want and when I want, and you will not stop us. I love Harry, get it through your head, and just for the record I was the one who started that whole thing, and if you hadn't interrupted, Harry would have..."

"Ginny!" Harry snapped, as Ron gasped. The girl stared a warning glare at her brother for a moment, and then turned back to the very frustrated young man behind her.

"Do you regret what happened?" she asked him, watching the blush creep up his cheeks. "Do you, Harry?" she asked when he didn't answer.

"I don't regret it, Ginny," he told her honestly. "But I still mean what I said before. Regardless of how wonderful it was, and how much I wanted it, or still want it, I'm not ready."

"But Harry, we almost..."

"And I would have regretted it." Harry reached out, caressing her cheek. "I love you, but it has to be when we both want it. Please, Ginny? Just give it time."

"Do I have to stop trying all together?" Harry chuckled, wrapping her in his arms tightly, his mind still felt her body beneath him, and the sensation of heat and passion coursing through his veins.

"I won't object to a little persuasion," he told her, as she kissed him briefly.

"Let's get finished," Hermione told them, a slight frown on her delicate features. "What do we have to do now?" Harry retrieved the book, rereading the potion's instructions.

"All we have to do now is reduce the flame, and let it cook for ten hours, that should make it just about breakfast time. Then we have to add the hair and cook it for two more hours."

"Lets just hope Potions isn't first on the schedule tomorrow," Hermione told them, leaning down and issuing the proper spell, watching with the eye of an expert to make certain the flames were just the right height.

"Lets get out of here," Ron said, still glaring at Harry as he turned and led the way through the door.

"You two can't be out after curfew," Hermione told them, watching as Harry received the invisibility cloak, picking up the book of spells and wrapping the cloak around himself and Ginny. "Good, now be quiet." Harry and Ginny walked behind Hermione and Ron, until they reached the portrait of the fat lady. They waited until Ron issued the password, stepping in behind them. He slipped the cloak off and held Ginny's hand.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he told her, kissing her tenderly.

"Sleep well," she whispered, as Ron snorted his disapproval, heading straight up the stairs without saying a word to any of them. "Good luck," Ginny told her boyfriend, as they separated on the top of the stairs. "Just remember, he's weird."

"He loves you, Ginny, and he's worried about you. You should feel proud he cares so much," Harry felt like he was scolding her, but knew she had to try and at least understand Ron's side.

"I know it, but I can take care of myself, and I don't need protecting against you," Ginny told him.

"I think Harry needs protecting against you, Ginny," Hermione told her, pulling her by the arm away from Harry. "Now both of you, get to bed or I'll have to report you for being up past curfew." Harry chuckled, turning and walking to his own dorm.

Inside Harry found the room silent; the soft snores from Seamus, Dean and Neville alerted him to the fact that they had long since fallen asleep. Ron had already changed, his clothes lying scattered across the floor near his bed, the drapes to his bed pulled shut. Harry sighed, replacing his cloak and book to his trunk, pointing his wand at the map and saying, "Mischief managed," before returning it to his trunk as well. He quietly undressed, pulling on his pajamas he'd bought in Diagon Alley a few weeks ago, then crawled into bed, glancing across the room to where he knew his best friend lay awake. He desperately needed to talk to him, to explain things to him, to get his advice, but didn't' know how to separate his friend from the brother of the girl he loved.

With a heavy sigh, he pulled the drapes shut and closed his eyes, rolling to his side. He knew things were going too fast, he had only been dating Ginny for a few weeks, but he couldn't help it, he loved her. The first time their lips met he felt reborn, he knew they were meant for each other. He felt as though they had known each other their whole lives. The first time he held her, she was his, and they both knew it. If only he could make Ron understand how he felt, if only he could get her to slow down until he felt emotionally ready for the next step. Pulling the blankets over his head, Harry sighed again, feeling the pain beginning to pound behind his eyes as he slipped his glasses off and tucked them under his pillow. Forget Voldemort, he thought. This love thing was going to kill him long before the Dark Lord ever got a chance.