The Music Box

Chapter Two: Secrets and Letters

 

“Harry? Harry!”

“Huh, what?”

“Harry, get up you’re going to miss breakfast!” said Ron, shaking Harry in his bed.

Harry looked at the clock on his night table. He had only been asleep for a few hours, and his head was still reeling from the events of the night before. Harry sat up and put on his glasses.

“Ron?”

“Yeah?” Ron said as he finished tying his tie and proceeded to tuck it into his sweater.

“I think I should tell you something,” Harry said, unsure of whether or not to tell Ron at all about kissing Ginny.

“Well you can tell me at breakfast. I’ll meet you downstairs. Hurry up!” Ron said, running down the stairs.

Harry got up out of bed. As he woke up, he realized that Ginny's dreams changed everything. He decided to write Sirius about it before he went to breakfast.

Dear Sirius, I don't know how to tell you this, but I have been having dreams about Mr. Weasley's death. I wasn't sure that Voldemort had something to do with it until last night. It seems that his daughter, Ginny is also having similar dreams and she too believes that Voldemort is behind it all. I'm not sure what all this means, but I would like to hear from you about this. Please let me know soon, I feel this is very important.

 

Harry

 

P.S. Say Hello to Moony for me.

 

Harry was on his way downstairs to the Great Hall when he heard a voice calling after him. It was Ginny.

“Good morning, Harry.”

“Oh, hullo Ginny,” Harry said smiling.

“Sorry I kept you up so late last night,” she said, looking curious.

“You have no idea.”

Ginny laughed. Even her eyes were smiling Harry thought.

Ginny stopped on the staircase. “Harry, will you do me a favor?”

“Sure, anything.”

“Please don't tell Ron about last night,” she said.

Harry didn't understand. “But why? Ron is my best friend, and your brother. He should know what is going on, and besides, I don't like keeping secrets from him.”

Except that Voldemort killed his father he thought.

“He will, just not yet,” Ginny said.

“Ginny, what's going on?” Harry said.

“Well, this is sort of embarrassing,” she said, starting to bite her lip.

“I think we are way past that now,” Harry said.

“Okay,” she said exasperated. “Last year, at the Yule ball, after Ron found out that I was going with Neville, well, he kinda had a little talk with him.”

“Really?” Harry said, surprised.

“Yeah, I have no idea what he said to him, but at the ball, I had to practically force Neville to dance with me!”

Harry held back a laugh. “Are you sure that wasn't just being Neville?”

“Fred and George told me. And when I confronted Ron, he all but confessed to me!” Ginny said, irritated by the thought.

By now it was too late, and Harry was rolling in laughter. “Wow, I had no idea that he was that protective over you.”

Ginny smiled sarcastically at Harry.

“Well me neither,” she said. “So if he could act like that with just Neville of all people, imagine what he would do if he found out about last night.”

Harry considered this for a moment. Ginny was making sense. Who knows how Ron would react to his best friend kissing his one and only little sister.

“Good point,” he said, picking up her hand in his. “And besides, we don't know where this is all going to go, ourselves.”

Harry felt nervous and sweaty holding her hand. And his stomach was in knots. But even through his own nervousness, he was surprised how easily she made him feel when he talked to her.

“So you won't tell him?” Ginny asked hopefully.

“No, I can wait,”

Ginny squeezed his hand. “Thanks for understanding.”

“No problem,” Harry said coolly, as they started for the Great Hall.

 

* * *

 

“What is up with you today?” Hermione asked casually as she reached for the toast in front of her.

Harry hesitated. “Nothin', er, restless night,” he said watching Ginny, who was sitting further down the table, talking to Fred, George and Ron.

“Oh really. How very interesting,” said Hermione with a slight giggle, watching her friend stare across the table distractedly. “Care to talk about it?”

“No, not really . . . “ Harry began, but slowly turned around to face her. She knew something.

And I promised that I wouldn't tell Ron?

Harry lowered his voice, “Don't . . . say . . . a . . . word,” he glared at her. “She made me promise! I can't believe she told you, honestly!”

Harry elbowed Hermione hard in the arm.

“OW! If you haven't noticed, I can keep a secret you know. I just thought it would be fun to give you a hard time, that's all,” she said rubbing her arm.

Harry held his gaze. “Just remember, I have stuff on you too, you know,” he said, giving her a sly smile.

“You wouldn't dare!”

“Oh really?” Harry said with a smirk, as if being dared.

“Alright, okay, I wasn't gonna tell him anyways.”

“Tell him what?” Ron asked, walking over to them.

“Er,” Hermione started, but lost the words.

Harry saved it luckily. “My scar was hurting me again last night from another dream.”

Hermione dropped her toast.

Harry continued, “She was just telling me that I should write to Sirius about it. But as I was just about to say, I have already written a letter, and I'm going to send it after breakfast.”

“Yeah, that’s right!” said Hermione, feeling a bit off guard, but going along with it; not even knowing if it was true or not. “He needs to know about it!”

“I see,” said Ron, stuffing a sausage into his mouth. “So, do you remember what the dream was about better this time?”

Harry lied. “Nah, I can vaguely remember it.”

“Attention please, students!” Professor McGonagall shouted above all the noise in the Great Hall. “I have an announcement,” Professor McGonagall waited patiently for the noise to die down until she continued.

“The village of Hogsmeade is having their annual spring festival this weekend. So, for those of you who have Hogsmeade privileges, there will be several arts and craft exhibits. There will also be an afternoon picnic followed by an informal dance,” she said as The Hall cheered at the exciting news.

“Oh man, not again,” Ron whined under his breath, at the same time, avoiding any eye contact with Hermione.

“I don't think they expect us to take dates like at the Yule Ball, Ron,” said Harry, already noticing the angry frown on Hermione's face.

Without even thinking, Ron said in relief, “Good! I would hate to go through that nightmare again!”

Hermione lost it at this point and spat out, “Well, if you hadn't acted like such a stupid prat, it wouldn't have been such a nightmare, now would it!”

Ron rolled his eyes as he watched her get up from the table and storm off, and turned back to Harry. “Do you ever think we will ever understand women?” he said, before he got up himself and ran after her.

“Hermione! Wait! I didn't mean it like that!”

Harry answered to himself, “Doubtful,” and started laughing to himself. He wasn't even sure himself if he was ever going to understand why they just didn't get it over and done with anyway. Harry looked back over to Ginny, who was also watching the scene that just occurred. She flashed him a smile and went on with her breakfast. He held his breath for a moment, and sighed.

* * *

 

Classes for the rest of the week were full of talk about the upcoming weekend. But it was late Friday afternoon when Harry received his answer from Sirius. He excused himself early from dinner so that he could read it alone in the common room.

 

Dear Harry, I'm glad you decided to write me about this. There have again been all sorts of rumors going around about what really happened in the death of Mr. Weasley. If you can, I would like to meet with you in the usual place on Saturday at dusk. Hope you are well.

 

Until then,

Sirius

 

P.S. Please give my condolences, albeit late, to Ron and his family.

The portrait hole opened, and Ron and Hermione climbed through. Harry folded his letter up quickly and put it in his pocket.

“I just don't see why you would want to sit through a boring poetry reading anyway!” Ron said to her, sounding irritated.

Hermione stopped, “It just so happens, that Gilbert Appleby is only one of the most important, most respected writers of his generation!"

Ron sat down in front of the fireplace on the couch.

“Harry, tell her how absolutely boring it would be to sit and listen to some old guy reciting poetry about love and flowers,” Ron looked back to Hermione and said sarcastically, “The idea of us going to Hogsmeade is to get away from school, not go back to it!”

Harry agreed. “Ron's right, it just doesn't sound all that great to me.”

“Well fine,” Hermione feigned a grimace. “Then would you two mind if Ginny came along with us tomorrow. She’s fond of his work too.”

“That's fine with me! So long as I don’t have to,” Ron said, turning back to Harry, who was sitting on crossed fingers himself. “Do you mind if she tags along?”

“I don't mind,” Harry said casually, but in his mind he was too excited for words. Now he could practically spend the entire day with Ginny; it was almost too easy. “Then it's settled, I'll go tell her now,” Hermione said triumphantly. “Goodnight my uncultured friends,” she said getting up, as she headed for her dorm, winking at Harry as she passed by him.