Harry Potter and the Curse's Legacy

With a soft cracking sound, Harry appeared on the lane leading to the Weasley home. As he passed the worn sign declaring "The Burrow," he paused for a moment and took a deep breath. What am I doing? he asked himself. She's going to take one look at me and hit me with a bat-bogey hex. And I'll deserve it.

Remembering Hermione's words gave him some small degree of renewed resolve, so he steeled himself for the worst and continued his approach to his second-favorite building in the world.

As he raised his hand to knock on the door, it swung open to reveal the smiling face of Molly Weasley. "Harry!" she exclaimed. "What on earth are you doing here so early in the morning?" Without waiting for him to answer, she swept him into an enormous hug and began to admonish him for not eating enough. "Honestly! Don't those Muggles know how to cook?" she asked him as she steered him toward the scrubbed wood table.

Harry grinned sheepishly and said, "I'm fine, thanks, Mrs. Weasley. I already made breakfast this morning and ate before I came over." Mrs. Weasley eyed him skeptically but released her hold on him.

"What brings you here so early, Harry? If Ron needs something, you could have just sent Hedwig." She resumed scanning him from head to toe, looking for signs of malnourishment.

Harry cleared his throat and straightened the collar of his shirt and mumbled, "hereseeGinny," turning his toe on the kitchen floor.

"What was that, dear?" Mrs. Weasley asked, peering at him concernedly.

Harry sighed and stood straighter, looking Mrs. Weasley in the eye. "I'm here to see Ginny, Mrs. Weasley."

Her smile spread even wider on her face and she winked at him. "But of course you are, Harry, dear. I'll just go fetch her. You sit here and have some more breakfast."

Harry held his hand up before she could press him down into a chair. "If it's all right, Mrs. Weasley, I'd like to talk to her alone. Would it be all right if I went up to her room?"

Mrs. Weasley studied him for a moment before he gushed, "I mean, I'll knock and wait until she's, er, decent." His face colored and he looked down at his hands.

Her appraising eye turned into an indulgent smile as she replied, "Of course you will, dear. You're a nice young man. Go ahead on up, and would you tell Ginny that breakfast is ready when she wants it?"

He sighed in relief. "Sure thing. Thanks, Mrs. Weasley." He gave her a lopsided grin that looked more confident than he felt, and headed toward the stairs.

Outside Ginny's room, Harry paused before knocking, straining his ears to pick up any hint of sound from within. Hearing nothing, he raised his knuckles to the door and gave it a firm rap. He was rewarded with a grunting sound and a mumbled, "Mum, I'm up."

Clearing his throat again, and suddenly feeling it was far too hot in the house, Harry said, "It's me. Er, I mean, Harry. Not your mum. Can I come in?"

Faster than he could have ever imagined, her door flew open to reveal a nightgown-clad Ginny with her hair in a long plait down her back, looking pleasantly sleep-rumpled. "Harry! What are you doing here?"

"I, er, came to talk to you." He willed himself to look at her face and not at the floor, but his resolve was slipping again. She looks really nice in the morning, much nicer than Hermione, he thought. That's not really an appropriate thought, you tosser, he admonished himself.

"Well, I don't want to talk in the hall, Harry, come in and sit down." She opened the door further and waved her hand toward her bed. "Does Mum know you're here?"

"Um, yeah, she does. She wanted me to eat more, naturally." He grinned at her, feeling on more solid ground talking about Mrs. Weasley's tendency to push food on him.

Ginny snorted and said, "Wait here for just a minute, would you? I need to use the loo." Harry blushed and she rolled her eyes. "Honestly, Harry, I just woke up! Now go sit."

She walked across the hall to the bathroom as Harry surveyed the room. It was more grown-up than he remembered from his last visit to The Burrow over Christmas. Fewer stuffed animals, actually no stuffed animals, he noted. He idly wondered where they went and why she'd gotten rid of them. He quickly noted the absence of something else from her room: a chair. Not feeling quite up to sitting on her bed with her to talk about his intended subject, he pulled out his wand and conjured one for himself. Straight-backed and a bit rickety-looking, he thought wistfully of the squashy armchairs that Dumbledore summoned with ease.

Heart lurching from the invasion of memories of Dumbledore, he seated himself on the edge of the chair and pushed the thoughts from his mind, concentrating again on the contents of Ginny's room. He noted a new hair decoration on her dresser, or at least one he'd never seen before. Then, taking in her night stand, he noticed that a new picture stood among the ones of her brothers and parents: one of him and Ginny from their brief time together at school. Colin probably took that, he thought. We both look pretty happy.

"Nice picture, isn't it?" Ginny said from the doorway. "You didn't have to summon a chair, Harry."

He stood abruptly and grinned at her sheepishly. "There, um, wasn't anywhere else to sit, Gin."

She smirked at him and raised an eyebrow. "My bed's big enough for the both of us, you know."

Harry gaped at her for a moment before his mouth started working again. "Don't say things like that where your mum can hear!" he whispered harshly. "I'm shocked she let me up here at all!"

Ginny giggled in response and shut the door behind her. "Are you thinking impure thoughts, Mr. Potter?" She walked, far too slowly for Harry's taste, over to her bed and sat on the edge facing him. He could see the tops of her freckled knees from beneath the hem of her nightdress and lost himself for a moment wondering what it would be like to reach out and touch one of them. Talking first, or you'll never get it out, Potter, he reprimanded himself.

He shook his head to clear himself of the temptation and looked her in the eyes. She stared back at him with the same fiery intensity that he'd seen in the common room after the Quidditch final. Then, he'd just grabbed her and kissed her. I could do that again now, he fleetingly thought. No! Talking first!

"So. What are you doing in my bedroom at 7:30 a.m. Harry? I doubt it was just to show off your chair-summoning skills."

Harry stared at his hands for a moment, then took a deep breath and sat up straight. "Ginny, I, er, came here to tell you that, well, you see, I talked to Hermione and Ron and, er, IguessImissyou." He cursed inwardly at the total mess he was clearly making of things.

"You guess you miss me?" Ginny stared at him defiantly. "You came here at the crack of dawn to tell me that you guess you miss me? What in bloody hell is that supposed to mean?"

Thoughts of bat-bogey hexes flying into his mind, Harry stammered, "I – I'm no good at this, Gin, please don't get mad." She seemed to settle a bit with the knowledge that he realized he was not doing a very good job.

Might as well get it all out, he thought as he continued. "I'm sorry for breaking up with you, Gin. And not just because I miss you, but because I know it hurt you and I never wanted to do that. I talked to Hermione and Ron this morning, well, really Hermione talked and I listened and Ron nodded his head." He smiled, trying to lighten the mood a bit, but Ginny clearly wasn't rising to the bait.

"Well, that's not really true either. Hermione brought it up, but we both talked. She made me realize something, something important, I reckon. And that's why I'm here."

Ginny's eyes softened and she quietly asked, "So what did you realize?"

Harry rubbed at his eyes under his glasses and stood up, taking Ginny's hand and encouraging her to stand as well. He could feel his knees shaking slightly and hoped he didn't pass out before the words made it past his lips.

"I realized that I – I love you, Gin." He looked down at the floor and waited for the hex that he was sure he deserved. The next few sentences tumbled out in self-defense. "I know you probably didn't want to hear that from me after I broke up with you. I wouldn't blame you if you wanted to hex me until I can't walk. I'm sorry to burden you --"

She cut him off with a firm kiss on the lips. He wasn't sure how long it lasted, or how he managed to stay standing, or how his hands got from her hands to being wrapped around her back, but he didn't care. He'd told her, he'd been sure about it, and she clearly didn't hate him for saying it.

When they broke apart, he put his hands on her shoulders and looked into her eyes. "I'm sorry that was so hard for me. I almost mucked it up, didn't I?"

Ginny smiled softly at him. "You didn't muck it up at all, Harry. I wasn't sure where you were headed for a minute, but you didn't muck it up."

Harry was visibly relieved and Ginny stifled a giggle. "Good. I've never said that to anyone, ever before, and I didn't want you to be mad at me for saying it to you." He sat down on her bed and drew her into his lap. One arm around her shoulders, he took another chance and rested his other hand on the knee he'd been wondering about earlier. It was warm and soft and smooth and freckled and everything he thought a knee should be.

Ginny leaned her head against his and wrapped her arms around him. "Never? To anyone?"

Harry shook his head as best he could without displacing her. "Never. I didn't even know what to call these feelings until Hermione hit me in the head with it. Wait, no, it was Ron!"

Ginny laughed out loud. "Ron? He identified love for you? I didn't think he'd know love if it pranced naked before him!"

"Well, Hermione made me think about it, but it was Ron who gave me the answer." He smiled warmly at her and kissed her forehead, resting his chin on top of her head. "I'm not surprised that Ron got it. You Weasleys have more love around you than anyone else I know. So much that you share it with me and Hermione."

Ginny looked up at him and took his face in her hands. "But I'm the only Weasley who gets to do this." She pressed her lips to his and, after a few moments, opened her mouth to his and they began exploring each other as if they'd never stopped. Harry flashed back to consciousness long enough to realize that his hand had slid from her knee up to the back of her thigh. She's not complaining, he realized, I guess that's okay.

When they finally broke apart, Harry grinned mischievously at her. "Are you sure you're the only Weasley who gets to do that? Ron was looking awfully nice this morning." He marveled at how quickly he'd gone from being tongue-tied in front of her to sliding back into the casual teasing banter they'd shared since his fifth year.

She whacked him on the shoulder in mock indignation before turning and placing one leg on either side of his and wrapping her arms around him again. This is new, he thought, as he suddenly found his hands on the outside of her thighs - and under her nightgown. He mentally shrugged and allowed her to push him back on the bed, enjoying the sensation of her mouth on his and the silkiness of her skin beneath his fingers.

Harry neither knew nor cared how long things had been progressing that way when Ginny pulled away and smiled at him. "I have something to tell you too, Harry." The twinkle in her eye reminded him forcibly of Dumbledore, but he pushed the emotion away before it could distract him from the lapful of girl leaning over him.

"Oh? I thought I was the one doing all the disclosing today." He grinned at her and lifted his head to kiss her again.

When his head rested back on the mattress, Ginny took one hand and placed it on the side of his face, caressing gently. Her chocolate brown eyes met his bright green ones as she leaned in to whisper, her voice huskier than Harry had ever heard it, "I love you too, Harry."

Harry blinked several times to keep tears from forming in his eyes. He moved his hands from Ginny's thighs and reached up to take her face in his hands. "I think I could produce the world's best Patronus right now." He finally stopped trying to hold it in and let the tears fall freely from his eyes.

"No one's ever said that to you before, have they?" Ginny said softly.

Harry shook his head and Ginny smiled. "Well, then I'm glad I got to be the first."

"The only," Harry whispered, wrapping his arms around her and drawing her close to him. He held her for several minutes before a thought occurred to him.

"Hermione and Ron have no idea where I've gone," he muttered. "They're going to kill me for disappearing like that."

"They'll have to go through me first," Ginny announced firmly. "Nothing's going to happen to you now that you're mine, Potter."

Harry laughed and squeezed her tightly before pushing them both up to a sitting position. He wiped his eyes and added, "We might have to add your mum to the list of people I need defending from, if we stay up here much longer."

Ginny nodded agreement and pulled herself off of him, helping him to his feet. Her eyes shone brightly as she took his face in her hands once more and kissed him soundly. "Head downstairs and I'll be down as soon as I've changed."

"Don't change, Gin, I love you like you are!" Harry teased.

"My clothes, git." She swatted him on the backside as he scooted through her doorway and closed the door behind him.

Outside Ginny's door, Harry leaned against the wall and breathed as heavily as if he'd just run a race. Once he'd slowed his breathing, he grinned to himself. I just told Ginny I love her. And she loves me, too! He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. I hope this was the right thing to do.

He made his way downstairs and was shocked to see that there were three faces staring up at him when he rounded the corner into the kitchen. Ron and Hermione were sitting alongside Mrs. Weasley, apparently drinking tea and waiting for him to return.

"Mischief managed, Harry?" Ron asked, grinning broadly.

Hermione lightly smacked the side of his head. "This is serious, Ronald!"

Mrs. Weasley smiled fondly at the two of them before returning her gaze to Harry. "Did you and Ginny have a good talk, dear?"

Harry swallowed and nodded, in response to both questions. He was distracted enough by Hermione's cheer of approval that he didn't hear Ginny come up behind him and was startled when she wrapped her arms around him from behind.

He laughed out loud at his own squeak as the others joined in and turned inside the circle of Ginny's arms to face her. "I didn't know girls could get dressed that quickly."

Hermione huffed behind him. "If I weren't so happy to hear you laughing again, I'd smack you, Harry."

He looked over his shoulder and stuck his tongue out at her. "We should get back – I'd like to pack up and move over here, if that's all right with you, Mrs. Weasley."

"Of course, Harry – if you think you've been there long enough." Mrs. Weasley rose and began bustling around the kitchen. "I'll need to get lunch started if you're all going to be here!"

He surveyed Ron and Hermione and asked, "Do you think we can be back here that soon?" They both nodded in response.

Ginny turned to her mother. "Can I go help, Mum?"

"Of course, Ginny. But be polite to Harry's aunt and uncle." Mrs. Weasley sniffed and threw her arms around Harry and Ginny. "I'm so glad you two have worked things out!"

Ginny smiled at her mother and returned her hug, leaving Harry pinched awkwardly between the two Weasley women and not quite sure what to do with his hands.

Ten minutes and five hugs later, Harry was standing at the entrance to the Burrow again, this time with his arms wrapped around Ginny comfortably. "Have you apparated before?" At her nod, Harry continued, "Just hang on to me and we'll be there in a second, then." Still grinning at each other, the pair disappeared with a crack and appeared in the back garden of four Privet Drive.

Harry's Aunt Petunia looked up from the bench seat in the back garden, startled by their arrival. "Harry!" she exclaimed. "Who is this?"

"Aunt Petunia, this is my girlfriend, Ginny Weasley. Ginny, this is my Aunt Petunia Dursley." He was surprised to find himself in such a normal situation with his aunt, simply introducing her to his girlfriend.

Aunt Petunia sniffed, "Weasley? So you're related to Harry's friend Ron?"

Ginny smiled, "He's my brother, ma'am."

"Well, get yourselves inside before the neighbors see you." She was then startled again by the arrival of Ron and Hermione. "I'll never get used to that," she muttered.

Did I just hear her correctly? Harry wondered. Talking about magic without curling her lip in disgust?

"Before we go inside, Aunt Petunia, I need to tell you that we're packing to leave. Er, I'll be leaving for good." As Aunt Petunia smiled, he felt Ginny tense slightly in his arms and squeezed her in what he hoped was a reassuring fashion.

Petunia sniffed again, "Ah, well, come down to the kitchen before you go."

Harry nodded his puzzled agreement and led his friends upstairs to his bedroom.

"She doesn't seem that bad, Harry," Ginny commented after they'd reached his room. "A little rude, but –"

Hermione laughed out loud and Ron snorted. "Believe me, Ginny, that's the most pleasant she's ever been, "Ron continued, "Positively cheerful."

Ginny shrugged and surveyed Harry's room. "To save some time, why don't we pack and you go find out what your aunt wants?" she suggested. "Besides, I want to get a good look at your underpants." She tugged out the back of his baggy jeans and exaggeratedly peered down. Harry swatted her hand away and grimaced at her, not at all sure that he was ready to face Petunia alone. How horrid is this going to be?

He almost yelped in shock when he entered the kitchen. Petunia was sniffling, almost on the verge of tears, looking at a box on the table. "Come – come sit down, Harry." She patted the chair beside her.

Feeling very wrong-footed, Harry joined her at the table and had to repress the urge to pat her on the back or offer some other token of comfort. Not after sixteen years of the way she's treated me, he decided.

"Dumbledore was right last year, Harry. We did not treat you the way Lily would have wanted, much less the way you deserved." Petunia swiped at her red eyes with the back of her hand and offered a weak smile. "The best I can say is that at least you seem to have turned out well in spite of us."

Harry's decision to withhold comfort was tested by this new confession, and he raised a hand to touch her shoulder, then reconsidered and placed it back in his lap. No. One confession does not make up for sixteen years of torture and abuse.

"Why are you telling me this now, Aunt Petunia? If you'd said that ten years ago and changed your behavior, maybe things would have been all right between us. But you can't expect that I'm just going to forgive you for swinging frying pans at my head and locking me in a room with a cat flap, or worse, the cupboard under the stairs, on the day that I'm leaving."

Ginny burst into the kitchen, looking every bit like an angry cat. "You did what to him?"

Harry buried his head in his hands. "Merlin, Gin, I didn't want you to hear that."

Ginny glared at Petunia as she put her arm protectively around Harry's shoulder. "This is not something you should be embarrassed about, Harry. She should be. Do you want me to go get Ron and Hermione? I came down to tell you that we're done packing."

Harry shrugged. "I don't think so, Gin. I think this a conversation Petunia and I need to have alone."

Petunia looked startled. "You're done packing already? It's barely been three minutes!"

Ginny sneered at her. "It's magic."

Harry was privately thankful that he wasn't on the receiving end of Ginny's temper. He wasn't sure, however, how he felt about having her take it out on Petunia. "Gin, please. Let me finish talking to Petunia so we can go."

"I'm not leaving you alone with someone who would lock you in a cupboard or hit you with a frying pan, Harry." The set of her jaw made it clear that she would brook no argument, and she sat down in the chair beside Harry, arm still wrapped around his shoulders. "Anything she has to say to you she can say with me here." She looked back at Petunia again and added, "Oh, look! I've brought my wand!" as she brandished it menacingly toward Petunia, who shrank back in horror.

I am definitely glad she's on my side, Harry concluded.

"You were saying that some things aren't forgivable, Harry?" Ginny looked expectantly at Harry, who straightened and faced Petunia again.

"Er. Right. You were horrible to me for sixteen years, Petunia." When did I drop the "aunt" honorific? he wondered vaguely before continuing, "What makes you think that a few tears and an explanation, which, I noticed, was not an apology, will make everything better?"

Petunia looked stricken. "I know it can't, Harry, and I should apologize, but I know it's not enough. When we began our horrible treatment of you, we really were hoping that we could keep you from becoming magical by making you miserable. We thought that if your magic was punished, you'd stop doing it." She sniffled again and searched her pockets for a handkerchief, and, finding none, rose to get a dishtowel from the immaculate kitchen counter.

After she resumed her seat, she continued, "Vernon, naturally, took to it a bit more enthusiastically than was really necessary," Harry snorted, but otherwise remained silent, "And after a while, it just became habit to do the things that we did to you."

Harry's glare almost matched Ginny's at this pathetic explanation. "Why did you want to keep me from doing magic, other than an obsessive need to look good for the neighbors?" he sneered at her.

Petunia's face crumpled and she wiped her eyes and nose with the dishtowel. "My sister died because of magic. She became magical, and she left, and then she was dead. I was trying to keep the same thing from happening to you, but it didn't work, did it?" Her voice was on the brink of hysteria.

Harry and Ginny were both caught off-guard by Petunia's admission of some feeling for her sister, and even more strangely, Harry. Harry was again struck by the same realization that he had when the dementors attacked him and Dudley, that for all her flaws, Petunia was his mother's sister and had at least a relatively decent idea what Voldemort could do to destroy a family.

Harry blinked at her owlishly, and then got angry. "Don't try to convince me that you let Vernon and Dudley beat me, and you starved me, to protect me, all for love of your sister!" He regretted his words as he felt Ginny flinch beside him, but if he was leaving, this would be his only opportunity to confront his aunt and her rationalizations, so he continued. He tugged on his oversized t-shirt and waved a hand absently at the jeans he was wearing, which could easily have fit him and Ginny together. "How did keeping me from having decent clothes keep me safe? How did barring my windows keep me safe? How did calling me, and my mother, I might add, a freak, keep me safe? How did referring to my father as 'that awful boy' keep me safe?" Petunia looked confused but Harry ignored her and continued to rant, feeling like sixteen years' worth of anger and resentment was finally being given license to let loose. "Voldemort has tried to kill me," he paused to count, "four times since I left for school, and all your upbringing did for me was to make me doubt myself enough to almost lose to him every time." His voice had taken on a cold edge, and Ginny began to rub his back absently. "I lost my godfather, and Dumbledore, all because of him, and half of why I couldn't do what I needed to do has to do with you." It wasn't until the words left Harry's mouth that he realized the truth of them.

Petunia suddenly looked very small to Harry. "You're right. I can't hide behind Lily entirely. I'll admit I was jealous – yes, jealous!" she said at Harry's incredulous scoff, "that Lily was so special, and I was so plain! It was bad enough she was prettier and smarter than me, even though she was three years younger! Vernon almost left me when I told him about her, he was so appalled! What was I supposed to do?" Harry's aunt began shaking like a leaf and covered her face entirely with the dishcloth. Harry saw Ron's head peek through the window on the kitchen door, but he shook his head at him, and Ron backed away.

Regaining her composure after a few minutes of almost-silent sobbing, Petunia looked up again. "And I wasn't talking about your father when I mentioned 'that horrible boy' – I always thought your father was very handsome, much like you are now." She smiled a thin, watery smile at Ginny, who responded by grasping Harry's shoulder almost painfully.

Harry turned to Ginny and touched her cheek, a silent thanks for standing by him through this. She leaned in and kissed his forehead, right on top of his scar, and he felt a shiver go down his spine that had nothing to do with Voldemort. Her support gave him the strength he needed to carry on with his aunt.

"So who were you talking about, then, if not my dad?" Harry was genuinely interested in this answer, feeling that he was on the verge of the second breakthrough of the day.

Petunia met his eyes with hers. "Some friend of hers from school. He had black hair, long, and a biggish nose. She never introduced us." She resumed dabbing her eyes with the now-sodden rag in her hands, twisting it nervously.

Harry took a moment to ponder this, then forged ahead with his questions. "What did Dumbledore mean when he sent you that howler two years ago?"

Petunia looked even more stricken. "He was reminding me of my promise to allow you to live here, to provide you protection."

Harry shook his head. "No, I figured that out for myself. I mean, he said 'remember my last' – that implies that there was more than one letter. How much communication did you have with Dumbledore?"

With a sigh, Petunia began. "That's one of the things I wanted to give you today." She gestured weakly at the box on the table. "There are the letters from Dumbledore in there, as well as some from your mother. There are even some pictures of you that she sent me when you were born – the kind that move. I kept it all hidden from Vernon in the back of my wardrobe. I'm not sure why I kept them, but I don't have any use for it anymore."

Harry eyed the box speculatively. "I'll look at this stuff when I have time. Thank you for giving it to me. If I have questions about any of it, can I write to you?" Petunia took a sharp breath, so Harry hurried on, "I promise I'll use Mugg – er, regular post, and I'll leave off the return address so Vernon won't know it's from me."

Petunia nodded her assent and slid the box across the table to Harry. With one last look at Harry and Ginny, she rose from the table and left the room.

Harry sighed, feeling entirely worn out from the day's events so far, and laid his head on top of his arms on the table. Ginny kissed the top of his rumpled head and muttered, "Well, at least that's over now. You ready to go?"

Harry nodded, not picking his head up from the table. Ginny rose and started to leave the kitchen, then turned back to Harry and planted another kiss on the back of his neck. "I'll go tell Ron and Hermione that we're ready."

How does she know just what to do just when I need her the most? he wondered as the door closed behind her.