Backfire

CHAPTER 3

Bumbling Toward Friendship

It was several days after Ginny's birthday, and Harry looked terrible. Well, that wasn't so much a newsflash as it was unsettling that he still looked terrible. When he had first arrived back at Grimmauld Place, Ginny could tell he had been severely neglecting his own well-being. He had looked exhausted, strained, and hungry (in every meaning of the word).

And it seemed that being back in the wizarding world hadn't helped matters. Notwithstanding his strangely expressive behavior on her birthday, he had continued his downward spiral despite the initial comfort of being back with his friends and family.

He had almost entirely stopped eating.

Bloody Hermione. Ginny was quite sure that the process had been sped up considerably by the constant barrage of questions and impositions coming from Harry's female best friend. And she was not pleased about it.

At least at the End Harry had a good excuse for being alone because he could go exploring his house and all the family-related objects Ginny had found when she was decorating, though Ginny had a feeling that he took a much longer time doing it than he might have if Hermione wasn't being such a pest. Harry's subtle attempts at distancing himself from Hermione at meals had morphed into a policy of blatant avoidance at all times. And still Hermione would not let up.

Hermione had once said that Ron had the emotional range of a teaspoon. Ginny didn't think that was wrong, exactly, but she did think that perhaps Hermione wasn't in any place to be lecturing anyone about emotional maturity. Scolding your friends, badgering them relentlessly, and having very few of them in the first place wasn't a sign of confidence, wisdom, or mature self-awareness, as far as Ginny could tell.

She supposed that Hermione had read about "emotional range" in a book somewhere, probably a Muggle psychology book. Oh, she could label emotions clinically, but Ginny doubted that Hermione had ever been put through a very wide range of them herself. Not to mention her often infuriating ignorance of the lingering effects that resulted from intimate exchanges with Voldemort.

Not that Ginny would wish on anyone the pain that came with having Tom Riddle inside your mind and tearing at your soul. It just meant that there were some things that couldn't be understood by those who hadn't experienced them, and Hermione was going to have to face the fact that her brilliant mind and her books couldn't fix things this time.

For his part, Ginny could see that poor Ron hadn't a clue what to do. He plainly saw that Harry was looking worse by the day, and the pain he felt on his friend's behalf was evident, but he wouldn't stand up to Hermione to tell her to lay off. Ginny was growing increasingly impatient with this, of course, but ever since Harry had been at Spinners End, she had kept her distance. She felt she had no right or attachment that gave her leave to intrude, regardless of how much she might be able to help or understand.

Nevertheless, when Harry began to noticeably lose weight, Ginny decided that she couldn't hold back anymore.

Lunch had just been eaten, a usually somber occasion (due to the tension between Harry and his friends, and not aided by said friends constantly shooting worried looks at each other) mercifully made less uncomfortable by the arrival of their Hogwarts letters. Harry's despair was momentarily forgotten by Ron and Hermione as they tore open the envelopes addressed to them. Ginny took her own and opened it much more slowly, glancing at Harry as she did so. Harry opened his and glanced at his two best friends, just in time to see their Prefect badges fall out.

Suddenly recalling the possibility that she might have been given a similar badge, Ginny checked her own envelope quickly. Much to her relief, she found only folded parchment. She sighed comfortably at having that anxiety dealt with, and looked back to Harry.

He had turned to his own letter and looked up with a slightly brightened expression--there was no smile, but his eyes had a sparkle to them that he rarely displayed these days. However, in the commotion and shouting that emanated from Ron and Hermione's exclamations about O.W.L. results, no one noticed but Ginny. Harry frowned at his friends' neglect. Ginny lightly kicked his foot under the table and he looked up at her. She nodded at the parchment in his hand and mouthed, What is it?

He looked briefly back down at his letter before meeting her eyes again and whispering, "Quidditch." He almost smiled. Ginny did smile, her eyebrows raised in expectation. Sliding away from his seat next to Ron, unnoticed by the rest of the crowd in the kitchen, Harry came over and sat next to Ginny, handing her the letter and indicating for her to read it. She perused its contents and looked up at him with a small smile, though her eyes plainly expressed much more excitement.

"Your ban has been lifted!" she exclaimed, though in soft tones. She sensed that Harry didn't want to draw attention to himself. "And captain! Harry, that's brilliant!" He gave her a small smile and nodded in confirmation. At this point he noticed the parchment laying half-opened in her lap.

"So, are you a Prefect?" he asked, tentatively. Ginny shook her head, but smiled.

"Nope. I'm not really the type." She gestured with her head at Fred and George who were currently defending their O.W.L. results against those of their younger brother. Harry nodded. Not wanting the silence to become awkward, Ginny pressed on. "How're your O.W.L.s?"

Harry looked thoughtfully at the parchment with his results, and turned back to Ginny.

"O's in Defense, Herbology, and Care of Magical Creatures, E in Charms, A's in Transfiguration, Potions and Astronomy. And P's in History and Divination."

"Seven!" Then her face fell. When she spoke next, he could barely hear her. "But not an 'O' in Potions, huh?" He shook his head, but held her earnest gaze as he did so.

"Well, at least I'm rid of Snape, right?" Ginny's heart wrenched for him. She knew he had his hopes pinned on being an Auror. She went to say something, but just then, their quiet, pleasant discussion was interrupted as Ron's large hand plucked Harry's results from his grasp.

"Ron! That was rude!" Mrs. Weasley scolded, as Hermione shook her head. "Maybe he doesn't want his results read aloud to the whole world." Ron shrugged and shot Harry an apologetic look.

"Sorry, mate, but--" His attention was abruptly sidetracked as he saw Harry's actual scores. "Blimey, Harry! Mum, I wouldn't worry about Harry being embarrassed about these marks."

"How'd you do, Harry?" Hermione inquired, with undisguised curiosity and a hint of trepidation at the possibility that he had scored better than she had. Ginny snorted in amusement, but recovered when she saw that Harry was hesitating in his response. Noble git, he doesn't want to brag.

"He got seven," she answered for him calmly. Everyone in the room turned at the unexpectedly quietness of her voice. "And Quidditch captain, too." She grinned at Harry knowingly, as he blushed, and all the room's attention quickly fixated back on him with exclamation and congratulations.

Lunch concluded with an extra, celebratory pudding quickly whipped up by Dobby and Winky, to mark the occasion of Harry's Quidditch news, and Ron and Hermione's re-selection as Gryffindor Prefects. This celebration was briefly interrupted by Mrs. Weasley's blunt inquiry after Ginny's own Prefect status, and her scolding and disbelief at receiving a negative response. The twins beamed at Ginny with pride, and Remus nodded in support.

Eventually the meal ended, Ginny and Harry having been informed of Ron and Hermione's O.W.L. results. Ron had received one more O.W.L. than Harry--in History of Magic, which Harry had understandably failed--but received only one O (in Defense) and a more even distribution of E's and A's.

Hermione had received the maximum twelve, of course, earning an O in every one but Divination, which she brushed off as being a silly class in the first place. Curious, but by no means surprised, Ron had inquired after the tests she sat for in the subjects she hadn't taken as classes, to which she replied that she had studied for them on her own. At the revolting thought of extra homework and extra tests, Ron looked incredulous, while Harry and Ginny shared a look and shook their heads.

Later, as the adults drank tea or nursed something a bit more potent, Ginny noticed Harry slip out of the kitchen, presumably to escape the now routine questioning from Hermione. Ginny looked around to make sure no one was paying attention, and slipped out after him. She caught up to him as he was rounding the stairs to go up, and grabbed his arm.

"Harry."

"Oh, hey Ginny." He looked startled and then relieved that it was her. And not Hermione, Ginny thought to herself. Ginny rounded the stairs and passed him, still holding his arm, and pulling him along behind her. She dragged him to her usual study room, and closed the door. She sat him down, and let go of his arm, taking a seat across from him. He looked a bit perplexed and a little amused at the way she was manhandling him.

"Listen, Harry, I've got a proposition for you." He looked slightly worried.

"Okay."

"Sorry to be blunt, but you look terrible." Harry blushed at this, obviously becoming self-conscious. "You've basically stopped eating, and I can tell that your two best mates are driving you crazy." He looked surprised that she had figured this out. "Look, I know that you're upset and trying to figure out a few things right now--" here Harry began to look anxious, probably thinking she was going to quiz him on his feelings "--and that the last thing you want to do is tell everybody about it." His shoulders unclenched, and he appeared visibly relieved. "I'm not going to ask you a million bloody questions. But I want to make a deal with you." He raised his eyebrows in surprise and then skeptical curiosity. Yes, Harry, I'm just full of surprises.

"What kind of deal?"

"I won't ever ask you about Sirius," he flinched, "or about the Department of Mysteries, or the prophecy, and you can hang out in here with me all day, if you like." She noticed that he had paled at the mention of the prophecy, but carried on as if she hadn't. "We can talk about anything else, or not talk at all if you don't want to. I'm usually in here studying, and only Remus knows that I come in here. No one will bother you, and you'll only have to face the Granger Inquisition at meals." Harry smirked at the expression, and then seemed to be considering the offer.

"And the catch?" Ginny looked him straight in the eye.

"You eat. Two good meals a day, at least. Otherwise I leave you to the wolves. And I don't mean Remus. That's my deal." He looked slightly embarrassed again, and then a mixture of surprise that she had noticed and amused respect at her no-nonsense tone. "You get company and freedom from cross-examination, and I get piece of mind from knowing you're not going to starve yourself to death. Do you think you can handle that?" He hesitated, still obviously surprised at her frank and assertive behavior, before nodding confidently.

"Alright. I'm going to do some homework." She turned back to the Defense book she had been working with before lunch. Harry, still appearing to be in a bit of shock at what had just transpired, left the room quietly.

Ginny didn't know quite what to make of this reaction, but she was reassured when he returned shortly after, with what looked like one of his own summer assignments. They sat and worked quietly until Dobby arrived to gather them for dinner.

Their arrangement became a ritual. Harry and Ginny spent the remaining days before September 1 working side by side in the study. Although Harry studied on the couch that first afternoon, he soon took to sharing the large desk with Ginny. For the first few days they worked in companionable silence, but the fourth day found them periodically consulting each other on various details of their activities.

However, they rarely engaged in small talk with each other. Ginny was not surprised by this. Since they weren't actually friends, they didn't have much to talk about anyway, and the one thing they did have in common--Voldemort--Ginny had promised Harry they wouldn't discuss. Occasionally Remus would interrupt their studies and stop in for a chat, or an update in the goings on of the house, but they were usually left alone to their easy but quiet camaraderie.

True to his word, Harry ate a full lunch and dinner every day, often glancing at an amused Ginny in a patronizing gesture for approval. She would respond by nodding, smiling, and rolling her eyes. After a week, Harry looked quite a bit better, and Ginny was extremely pleased with herself.

She wondered daily if Hermione and Ron had spent any time searching them out, and was usually gratified at meals to catch Hermione glancing at Harry as if she was thoroughly put out at his inexplicable disappearances. And every time, Ginny had to stifle a laugh, because it was obvious that Hermione had never even entertained the possibility that Harry was off studying with her.

But the positive effects of their deal weren't confined to healthy weight gain. Although the dark, haunted shadow still grazed Harry's features from time to time, it was markedly less often than before they had taken to quietly studying together. Ginny wasn't sure whether it was the simple distraction of his school work, or the noticeable lack of pressure and discomfort now that he wasn't constantly being prodded, but no one could deny that Harry looked better.

By the time she and Harry had begun to study together, Ginny had long since finished her required summer assignments. Since before her birthday, she had been working ahead in Transfiguration and Potions, and after receiving all those books from her professors, she added the study of Apparation and practice in meditation to her daily activities.

Occasionally Harry would glance at her books and Ginny began to suspect that he'd figured out that she wasn't working on the typical fifth year assignments. Ginny found herself quite glad in hindsight that she had told Harry about her wandless magic abilities; when it came time to actually practice Apparating, he wouldn't freak out at the fact that she didn't need a wand to do it.

Even better was the news Remus had delivered just the day before: that Bill and Dumbledore had discovered particularly strong wards around the End blocking the Ministry's tracking of magic usage, including the underage variety.

Between their study room and her bedroom, Ginny had a wonderfully concealed set of rooms between which she could practice Apparating. One morning, as she sat down to study with Harry in the usual manner, she decided she would finally try it out after lunch. She was brushing up on the instructions in her book (even though she had read them countless times already) when she noticed Harry looking at her books a little more than usual.

He went back to his assignment, but then glanced up at Rare and Dangerous Potions of the Middle Ages and stared at it. Then briefly back to his work, then over to A Study of Dark Enchantments. This continued for several more minutes, and Ginny sat watching him, amused that in the midst of his "surreptitious" investigations he never noticed she was staring at him. Then it started to be ridiculous.

"Harry!" He froze and slowly turned to look at her. "Why don't you just ask me about the books. You've been staring at them for a quarter of an hour. If you want to know what they're about, just say something."

"Alright then, what are those books about?"

"I got them from Professor Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape for my birthday." Harry's face gave the impression that he had been wondering about this for a while and that his suspicions had been answered.

"You know, I got some, too. For my birthday, I mean. Except I didn't get any from Snape." His face drooped at mentioning Professor Snape, and Ginny figured it was on account of his not getting the 'O' required for N.E.W.T. level Potions. "But I got some other ones besides for school."

"Harry, did you get Auror books?" His eyes went up in surprise and he nodded. Ginny held up the book in her lap. "And one for Apparation?"

He smiled and nodded again.

"Well, I guess I don't have to restrict my reading of those manuals to my bedroom late at night." Ginny smiled. "But why are you doing all this extra Potions, Transfiguration, and Defense? I know its your O.W.L. year, but this stuff--" he said, pointing to Rare and Dangerous Potions of the Middle Ages "--isn't exactly fifth year level, is it?" Ginny bit her lip in reluctance, but decided she might as well tell him.

"If I tell you, it's like the wandless magic thing, you can't tell a soul. Only Remus, Dumbledore, and the twins know." He nodded earnestly. "Well I guess it's not that big a deal, but I'm taking three of my O.W.L.'s early." His eyes went up in surprise and his mouth was open. He considered this new information for a moment and studied her thoughtfully. Ginny almost blushed at the scrutiny and felt an unusual compulsion to explain herself.

"Well, it's not like I've seen Death Eaters for the last time, is it? And if anyone bad finds out about my wandless abilities, that would only make me a bigger target. So I reckon I need some catching up in potions and spells and things. And for some insane reason I really like Potions, and I'm pretty good at mixing them, so why not learn more about them? It couldn't hurt. And I don't want to be in the same position I was in at the Department of Mysteries ever again. Knocked out and gimpy." She shook her head as if she were scolding herself.

"Fat lot of help I was to you lying on the floor, unconscious with a shattered ankle. It was bleeding luck that the Order showed up. But I don't think we should count on that anymore. I think we need to know how to get out of trouble ourselves." Harry looked astonished at what she had said, and was about to say something when he cut himself off.

Ginny guessed that he was probably going to say something like "You never would have been there in the first place if it wasn't for me." Idiot boy. And his idiot guilt complex.

"So Defense, Potions, and Transfiguration, then?"

"Yep."

"Really?"

"Uh huh."

"When are you taking them?"

"Right before we leave for Christmas."

"And then what?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, what happens if you get high marks, I mean, you can't very well go back to the O.W.L. classes, can you?"

"Well, then, when we come back from Christmas holiday, I'll join the sixth year N.E.W.T. classes in the subjects I qualify for."

"Really." Harry's face was deep in thought, but then the corners of his mouth began to twitch upward.

"Really," she replied. He smiled and looked up at her.

"Hermione and Ron are going to go spare when you walk into class the first time." He chuckled to himself. "You have to promise me that if you get into any of our classes, you'll let me walk you to the first one, so we can see their faces when you sit down." Ginny shook her head and smiled. Can you walk me to class? Harry, mate, was Merlin a wizard?

"I promise." She hoped that it wouldn't be Potions, because it appeared that Harry and Ron wouldn't be in N.E.W.T. level Potions this year, and the effect just wouldn't be the same if Ron and Hermione didn't get blindsided together. Hmmm. Harry. Potions.

"Excellent."

"Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?" he said distractedly, probably still enjoying the mental image of Hermione being one-upped at school.

"You needed an 'O' to get into N.E.W.T. Potions, right?" Harry's face fell. Ginny cringed because she had been the cause of it.

"Yes."

"Well, I have an idea." He looked at her again.

"Is this like the proposition? Because that seems to be working out okay for me." And by his tone he wasn't joking. Ginny felt better.

"Sort of. Not so much a deal as a mutually beneficial arrangement. I just thought that maybe you could study Potions with me--since studying is all I'm ever going to be doing this year besides playing Quidditch--and even if I get into the N.E.W.T. class I'm still going to be behind, so we can revise together, and you can sit for the exam even though you aren't taking the class. It'll be easier to do the work on your own if you have someone to do it with, and you could learn it with me instead of with Snape." He sat there, pausing to consider her suggestion.

"I think I would definitely rather learn it with you than him." Ginny pretended to look scandalized.

"Well, I would hope so! Gosh, Harry, you really know how to make a girl feel special." He chuckled and shook his head. As he looked down to hide his grin, with his green eyes brightened by laughter, Ginny was struck by how much he didn't look like a kid anymore. He wasn't just taller, like Ron; he looked older. She wondered briefly if he looked like his dad when he did that, and that brought to mind the hand-me-down books she had received from the headmaster.

"Harry," she said quietly, before she could stop herself.

"Hm?"

"Your Auror books--did they belong to your dad?" She didn't have a clue whether James Potter had been an Auror, but she was operating on a hunch. Harry's face returned to the look of shock it so often wore around her recently.

"Yes, they did." He looked very unsure about this and furrowed his brow. "How did you know that?"

"Well, mine belonged to my uncle. He was an Auror, too, apparently. I don't know if he ever finished the training, though. He and his brother were killed by Voldemort. Bill told me that Moody said it took five Death Eaters to do them in, and even then they managed to take four down with them." As Ginny watched Harry absorb this information, she could see a light go on in his head.

"Your uncles were Gideon and Fabian Prewett?" Now it was Ginny's turn to be surprised.

"Yes. How did you know that?" Harry ran his hand through his hair. If Remus had been there, he would have been stunned with déjà vu.

"Moody showed me a picture of the Order taken back when my parents were still alive." And Sirius, Ginny thought. She could tell Harry was thinking it, too. "And he went through it, pointing out all the people in the picture, telling me their names and things, and about their families, and...." He paused here at what appeared to be an unpleasant memory. "....how they all died. And your uncles were in it." He looked up at her, and the subject they were discussing, coupled with the anguished look on his face strangled her heart. "Moody said they fought like heroes."

"Well, standing up for what they believe in and taking out two Death Eaters apiece sounds heroic to me." She added as an afterthought, "but it sure would have been nice to meet them."

"I know what you mean," Harry agreed.

They sat there for a while, Harry staring into space, Ginny staring, unseeing, at the Apparation book in her lap. They were so caught up in thoughts of family and Voldemort and the people they had lost, that they were both startled by the noise of footsteps pounding around upstairs. Ginny could hear her brother's voice yelling around for Harry, soon joined by smaller footsteps. Hermione. Hm. What to do. She looked at her book and then up to Harry.

"Have you reviewed all the material on Apparating yet?" Harry nodded. "Want to give it a go?" Harry looked at the door, up at the ceiling where his friends were making noise, and back at Ginny.

"Why not."

"Where do you reckon we should go? I say we try my room. I think they'd be less likely to check for you in there." Because obviously he'd never have any reason to be in there.

"Okay. When we hear them start down this hallway, we go." He looked around. "We should probably pack up our stuff. We don't want to let on that we study in here." They both took to that task quickly, and were finishing up when they heard Ron clomping off back down the hall.

"They should be heading down here any second. You ready?"

"Ready. You remember what my room looks like?"

"Well enough to get there, I think." They could hear voices. Ginny wandlessly unlocked the study door and looked at Harry.

"See you soon," she said, with a hopeful smile. She closed her eyes, grabbed her bag of books, and gathered her magic. Focusing on her bedroom, she mumbled the word Apparatus and disappeared. Harry followed a second later, just before the door to the study opened.

With an oof! Ginny landed on her bed, bouncing around so that her bag was thrown onto the floor. Harry arrived a second later, quietly cursing as he almost tripped over her trunk. Gathering themselves from the tumultuous trip, they looked at each other.

"Well, we didn't splinch," Ginny offered. "That's something."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Nice to know we can do this in a pinch. I don't think either of us even made a noise when we did it. That'll come in handy."

Just then, there was a noise coming from Ginny's bathroom. She got up off the bed and went to investigate, with Harry following behind her. What she found was not exactly surprising, but curious just the same.

It was the kitten who had been wrestling with her slipper the morning before Harry had arrived at Spinners End. The little beast had gotten a hold of the toilet paper and yanked it until it had unrolled almost entirely, and was currently playing in a pile of the white, fluffy tissue. Upon noticing Harry and Ginny in the doorway, it stopped its activity and looked at each one of them in turn, spending longer on Harry.

Appearing to come to some sort of decision, the kitten dropped a chunk of toilet paper from its mouth and trotted over to Harry, looking up and meowing quietly at him. Harry reached down and picked it up, and looked at Ginny with a very perplexed expression.

"Is this yours?" he asked her.

"I don't think so, although I've seen him before. I think he likes to come in here to play." Harry continued to study the cat and then remembered that he was the master of an estate with two very resourceful house elves.

"Dobby?" he called out, reluctantly. With a small pop the elf appeared in Ginny's bathroom.

"Yes, Harry Potter, sir?" Dobby turned and bowed to Ginny, who smiled at him and waved.

"Do you know whose cat this is?" Dobby beamed and nodded very quickly, glad to be able to help.

"It is Harry Potter's cat, sir."

"Mine?"

"Yes, sir. They has always lived with the Potters, sir. But they is special cats. Very special and very smart. They is smart like kneazles and they is magic like a house elf."

"They?" Ginny asked.

"Oh, yes. This is only the baby, Miss Wheezy. There once was mother and father cats, too. They was knowing the grounds very well, and knowing when things was not right. They was very helpful, just like Dobby is helpful." He beamed. Ginny forced herself not to chuckle at him.

While she was distracted looking at Dobby, she did not notice the kitten gear up on its haunches and leap across the space between her and Harry. Harry gave a yelp as the little grey fur ball sprang from the light hold he had on it and pounced on Ginny's shoulder. Ginny gasped, but caught it thanks to practiced Seeker reflexes. She looked at her new attachment, and its eyes looked like they were dancing in merriment. Then it cocked its head to the side and studied her thoughtfully.

Ginny thought that, for a cat, it acted an awful lot like a person.

"Does it have a name?" she asked Dobby.

"No, Miss Wheezy. He is not having a name because Mr. Harry Potter has not named him."

"What about his parents, did they have names?"

"Yes, because Mr. James and Miss Lily named them." At hearing his parents names, Harry froze, and in anticipation of Harry's discomfort, Ginny did, too. Seeing them both uneasy, Dobby explained himself. "You see, Harry Potter, sir, these is special cats. Very rare and very special. They is connected to the family who owns them, like house elves, but there is one for each wizard. One for Mr. James, and one for Miss Lily, and now that you has come home, one for Mr. Harry Potter." So he's an orphan like Harry, she thought sadly.

Harry still looked dumbstruck by this new information, while Ginny was distracted by the kitten nuzzling her affectionately. She smiled and tugged at him when he began to alternately lick her hair and swat at it. Holding him with both hands to keep him just out of reach of her red tresses, she looked at Harry.

"So, what are you going to name him?"

"I don't know. Why don't you name him?"

"Me?"

"Yeah. You named Pig, didn't you? I think that worked out pretty well. Why don't you give this one a go." Ginny shrugged and looked back at the kitten, who was still batting its paws at her hair. She held him up to look him in the eye, and he cocked his little head again, as if trying to figure out what she was doing.

Ginny thought of the small category of things that she and Harry had in common, which inevitably brought her to the Chamber of Secrets. Her mind leapfrogged through names and words associated with that harrowing experience, until she unexpectedly landed on something that made her smile.

"Herpo." Harry's eyebrows raised in uncertainty.

"Herpo?

"Yes."

"Like Herpo the Foul?"

"Yes."

"As in, Herpo the Foul who invented basilisks?"

"Yes." He paused before responding, his face a model of utter confusion. Ginny smirked.

"Why on Earth would I name my cat after the nutter who invented the gigantic snake that almost ate us?"

"Hey, you were the one who said I could name your damn cat. If you recall, Ron wasn't exactly thrilled with what I named his owl." Harry considered this, and then shook his head as if it would clear things up. Running one hand through his hair while the other was perched on his hip, Harry was the spitting image of his father. But of course, neither of them knew this. Ginny turned to the kitten and brought it up close to her face.

"How do you feel about the name 'Herpo'?" she asked it. It meowed and licked her face. Triumphant, Ginny looked up at Harry and smiled at him. Putting his hands up in defeat, Harry sighed and conceded.

"Alright, Herpo it is. But seriously, why that particular name? Why not 'Smokey' or 'Fuzz' or some normal cat name?" Ginny was slightly taken aback by his serious tone.

"Well, I couldn't very well name your cat after something that had nothing to do with you, could I? So I thought of what we have in common, and basically that comes down to Quidditch and Voldemort." Harry's face went quickly through a series of emotions, beginning with shock, moving on briefly into anger, then to thoughtfulness, and ending in realization.

"You said his name."

"Yes, well, obviously not saying his name didn't keep us from being attacked by Death Eaters, did it?" Ginny countered, hoping that her voice sounded more confident than she felt. Old habits died hard, it seemed. "Besides, I've been on a first-name basis with that git for years. And Voldemort isn't any harder to say than Tom Riddle, as it turns out. Three measly little syllables. You'd think my idiot brother would be able to handle that. But no, he's six-foot-four and bloody huge and afraid to death of things like words and spiders." Harry smiled at the last part.

"Well, I can't say I blame him for being afraid of Acromantulas. I'm afraid of Acromantulas. They are scary, especially when hundreds of them are chasing you and trying to eat you. Noticing a theme, here? Hey, maybe I'll name my next pet Aragog. Or wait, who invented Acromantulas? If I had a pet for every time someone tried to kill me we'd have a bleeding zoo at Spinners End."

Ginny took one hand off of Herpo to punch Harry in the arm, though she could not help chuckling. Herpo immediately took advantage of the opportunity and returned to batting at her hair with gusto. It was nice to see Harry smile. Standing there, talking casually about the Chamber of Secrets and Acromantulas, of all things, with this riot of a cat and toilet paper strewn everywhere, he was almost. . .playful. And now they had an inside joke, one that Ron and Hermione didn't know about.

As if reading her mind, Harry added, "Bugger, can you imagine what Hermione would say if she heard me joking about that?" Ginny laughed at the notion. And then went into an eerily perfect imitation of the girl.

"Harry! How can you joke about that! Dark wizards are trying to kill you, so there's no time for laughter! I'm going to the Library." She smiled as Harry chuckled. They fell into silence, and Ginny did not want it to get awkward. She suddenly remembered that they were standing in her bathroom of all places, and noticed that somewhere in their conversation, Dobby had disappeared. She motioned to Harry to walk back into her room and continued with her explanation of Herpo's name.

"Anyway, the biggest thing we have in common is Voldemort, and all that started with the Chamber of Secrets. The basilisk was a big part of that and I thought 'Herpo' sounded cute." He shot her a patronizing look.

"Well, as long as it's cute, I don't see how I could possibly complain." She smirked.

"Potter, it's a bloody cat, not a bulldog. I don't think your masculinity is going to implode because I think your cat's got a cute name. Most people will probably get stuck on the bit about basilisks and never even get to the innate cuteness." She smiled and looked at Herpo, as if addressing him. "Let's go see if lunch is ready."

The cat meowed in agreement, and Ginny passed Herpo back to his owner, who, despite his earlier protests against cuteness, could be caught nuzzling the small grey kitten on his shoulder as they trekked down for lunch. Ginny felt she could have kissed him right then, but quickly thought better of it.

***

Dinner that night had been a lively affair, as the twins had dropped in for some home-cooked food. Harry sat next to Ginny, and she tried desperately not to laugh when Hermione resumed the persistent inquiry she had started at lunch about where he'd been all morning. His answer was that he had been studying, which technically wasn't a lie, and though that answer mollified her a bit, she was still keen to know where Harry had been.

Ginny thought she was really getting to be obnoxious and--with confidence born of their conversations that morning--for once, didn't think twice about intervening, and promptly blurted out: "Well, why do you care so much where he goes? You don't see me all day and you don't feel the need to ask me where I go and what I do. It's his bloody house. He doesn't need to get your bloody permission just to use the loo."

At this outburst, Hermione had reddened in embarrassment, Mrs. Weasley glared at her daughter with disapproval, Remus attempted to cover a smirk, the twins snickered, and Harry looked down at his plate to hide his smile. Ginny apologized without much sincerity, and there were no more questions about Harry's whereabouts after that.

Before going to bed that night, Ginny sat down to write Percy a note to thank him for his part in getting her broom. Thinking about Percy naturally led to thinking about the Ministry and the war against Voldemort, and Percy's estrangement from the family brought to mind his personal flaws and the extent to which others might share them.

Ginny knew that Hermione had always gotten along better with Percy than Ginny herself had, not to mention better than Ron or the twins. Harry had been relatively indifferent toward Percy until last year when Super-Git had written that absurd letter to Ron and acted like such a prat. But Ginny could see that the difference between Hermione and Percy was simply a matter of degree.

Ginny suspected that if Hermione hadn't been so starved for friendship when she first befriended Harry and Ron, things might have worked out differently with her. Not that Ginny thought Hermione would ever in a million years betray Harry, but she couldn't escape the fact that, like Percy, Hermione was ambitious and obsessively concerned with high marks and approval from authority figures.

In Ginny's humble opinion--and, she guessed, Harry's as well--both Percy and Hermione put far too much faith in the adults around them, assuming the near infallibility of figures like Dumbledore and McGonagall. And in Percy's case, Cornelius Fudge. Ron was always ready and willing to break the rules, of course, but he was usually quick to put faith in what adults said.

Needless to say, Harry and Ginny did not. If they had one personality trait in common, it was that they held the opposite assumptions. At a young age they both had learned the hard way that adults--even the most powerful wizard of the age--are not infallible, that they ultimately could not protect them from Voldemort (even at Hogwarts), and that authority figures are prone to making mistakes in judgment almost as much as teenagers.

But as the summer wore on, Ginny could see that Harry had actually become distrustful in addition to being more independent-minded like Ginny was. Not that she could blame him, especially after learning that Dumbledore had been holding out about Spinners End. The main exception to Harry's general cynicism toward adults was Remus, though she thought that Harry held a certain respect for Tonks and Mad-Eye Moody as well.

At any rate, Ginny had detected in Harry a decidedly cool attitude toward Dumbledore, and even toward her own parents, particularly when her mum treated him like a child.

As to her parents, Ginny was pretty sure she understood why. First, Harry wanted to be left alone, or at the very least he didn't want people to treat him differently because of what happened. Ginny knew all about that feeling, which was why the only people she could stand to be around following the events in the Chamber of Secrets were Fred and George.

Plus, Harry had never had a mum to fuss over him during his entire life, and while it might have been a welcome comfort in the aftermath of the Triwizard Tournament, it would not be now that the one true parent figure Harry had allowed himself to love and trust completely had been taken away from him. Especially given her mum's history of rocky collisions with Sirius on matters concerning Harry.

And Ginny would bet her new Cleansweep Retro that every time her mum went to fret and fuss over Harry, he wasn't remembering the time she referred to him as practically being her son. Instead he was recalling (and resenting) all the implicit statements and digs she ever made about Sirius being in Azkaban or being an unfit guardian.

For her own part, Ginny knew where Harry was coming from with respect to her mother, and couldn't say that she disagreed one bit. She remembered hearing her say those things to Sirius, and it had made her angry as well. Obviously, Ginny wasn't too pleased with her mother if she was keeping all these secrets from her. A mother who doted on the Prefects and Head Boys in the family above the others would certainly want to know that her daughter might skip ahead in three classes.

As for the headmaster, Ginny trusted Dumbledore to keep her confidences and to provide advice based on his extensive experience, but she knew, just as Harry did, that when it came to Voldemort and Death Eaters, they would inevitably have to fend for themselves. Likewise, she did not tell Dumbledore everything, and assumed that Dumbledore would not impart any knowledge that he felt the need to withhold.

Ginny firmly believed that knowledge is power, and she wondered if Harry's coldness toward most adults, particularly Dumbledore, had developed as a consequence of learning that lesson.

Ginny remembered quite clearly how Sirius had argued for Harry to be given the opportunity to ask questions about Voldemort and the Order, while her mum had wanted to keep him in the dark. With all that had happened, it was not hard to understand why Harry's countenance darkened whenever Mrs. Weasley tried to be attentive, or why he might believe that the only advocate he could ever trust completely with his life had been Sirius.

While all these thoughts ran through her mind, Ginny finished the note to her brother:

Dear Percy,

I hope this note finds you well. Are you still seeing Penelope? If so, I hope she is also well. Thank you very much for the broom. It was a brilliant present, better than I ever would have imagined a birthday present could be. I know that you are not as Quidditch-obsessed as the rest of them, but that just makes it a more thoughtful gift on your part. Mum and Dad were very happy to see your name on the wrapping, and I think you'll find that responding to Bill and Charlie's olive branch will be the best thing in the long run. The twins and Ron are going to be tough to make up with, and you still have some issues to work out with me as well, but the important thing is that you made the effort. I have grown up a bit since you last saw me, and I would strongly recommend that you not underestimate me--or Harry--when (not if) you renew your relationship with the family. I know pride is very important to you, but it should not have outweighed your loyalty to people who never would have been disloyal to you. It will take you a long time to regain the trust of the youngest of us, so you better come home and start as soon as possible. It's nice to have Bill and Charlie home, but it would be better if all my big brothers were here.

I was not made a Gryffindor Prefect, and I am quite relieved not to be. You know I have always taken after the twins that way. Mum is displeased, of course, but my marks are top in my year, so I don't see why she's bent out of shape if I'm not. Ron and Hermione are Prefects again, and Harry has been made Quidditch captain, so we're all relatively pleased with ourselves. Hopefully we'll hear from you soon, and thanks again for the wicked broom. You should try to come to a match this year, as I think our team will be decent despite losing Angelina, Alicia, and the twins. It will help a lot that Harry will be back in his old spot. Stay safe.

Love,

Ginny

She hoped it conveyed the right mix of willingness to reconcile and caveat that reconciliation would not be easy. Although the twins might hold out just to punish him, Ginny knew that, realistically, she and Ron would just find it hard to trust Percy again. He would have to earn it back, and it would not be easy going.

She suspected that, to Harry, Percy was simply another wizard who made his life harder than it had to be. The fact that Percy was a Weasley would probably end up being the difference between toleration and enemy status where Harry was concerned. With that task completed, she went to bed, mind still humming with thoughts of the day's events.

***

The remaining days before September 1 were spent studying and Apparating. And playing with Herpo, who had quickly discovered where their study room was. At this development, Dobby, Winky, and Remus no longer had to worry about going upstairs to call them down for meals, since Herpo would always let them know when it was time to eat.

The first time he took a flying leap onto their workspace (disturbing every last page of Transfiguration notes that Harry and Ginny had accumulated over the course of the summer, as well as a bottle of ink) the two teenagers were quite at a loss for the reason behind Herpo's antics. However, when they noted the time and announced a break for lunch, he calmed down immediately and they began to rely on their furry little alarm clock for study breaks.

Herpo spent their study sessions exploring the study, pestering Remus when he was in his room, or curled up on Harry's lap. The only exception to this pattern was the occasional outburst of fascination with Ginny's hair. Batting it around and playing with it had become Herpo's favorite pastime, it seemed.

Whenever Harry would whine or complain, or be otherwise annoying, Ginny formed a habit out of picking up Herpo and talking to him instead of his owner, calling Harry names and generally mocking him until he grudgingly laughed, got the hint and took back possession of his kitten.

About the fourth or fifth time this happened, Harry had voiced his chagrin that Herpo seemed to be a willing accomplice. Ginny told him that his cat liked her better. Harry stuck out his tongue at Ginny, and she laughed, which made Harry smile. Ginny liked it when he did that.

After the two of them had become proficient at Apparating throughout the house, they had devised a game, sort of like tag, where they Apparated all over the house trying to find each other. The point of the game was to improve their Disapparate-Apparate turn around time. Figuring that the situation would eventually arise where they Disapparated somewhere that was not safe or desirable, they wanted to make sure they would be able to Apparate away again immediately.

This skill was encouraged in the game by the fact that they might accidentally Apparate to a room where Ron, Hermione or Mrs. Weasley was situated, and would have to avoid being seen at all costs. It would not do to reveal that they had been illegally practicing Apparation all summer.

The primary side affect of this game (besides tiring them out enough to make them sleep very soundly at night) was that Herpo would go tearing through the house, scampering through all the rooms trying to catch them Disapparating, at which point he would pounce, and then tumble to the ground as Harry or Ginny disappeared again. Remus thought this particular behavior was hilarious, while the others, not knowing about the game, simply figured that the Harry's kitten was, in Ron's words, a nutter.

Hermione eventually chilled out a bit, though she would still occasionally shoot suspicious looks at Harry, and once in a while, at Ginny, too. In return for the decreased pestering, a week before they went back to Hogwarts, Harry started splitting his time between hanging out with Ron and Hermione and studying with Ginny. Ginny was a bit disappointed, but remembered that the situation would have changed anyway when they went back to school.

The subject of returning to Hogwarts finally forced Ginny to think past the safe cocoon that Spinners End had become. During the days she had spent there, it was easy to put Voldemort and Death Eaters out of her mind by focusing her attention on Potions, Defense, and Transfiguration, especially since they were no longer at the hub of Order operations. It was much easier to overlook the constant threat to their safety when Dumbledore and Snape weren't showing up at night and Tonks wasn't bantering with Moody about safety precautions.

But with the school year fast approaching, her thoughts were inevitably led to the war, her place in it, and the dangers they would face the minute they stepped out of Spinners End. It made her worry about how calm it had been all summer (at least as far as they knew, cooped up inside the house). It made her think about her friends, her family, and what she intended to do with the abilities she'd been hiding.

When her mind inevitably latched onto the subject of O.W.L.'s, she remembered that she would soon be forced to sit down with Professor McGonagall and talk about her career plans. Ack. This was not an issue she enjoyed rehashing.

With a war going on, it seemed a bit ridiculous to think about a normal career. She knew Harry had his heart set on being an Auror, but she wondered that maybe he'd much rather play Quidditch if there wasn't a Dark Lord to fight and Death Eaters running about killing all the people he loved. Of course, he might just want to follow in his father's footsteps, which was completely understandable, given that Harry didn't have much of his father to latch on to.

On the other hand, Ginny had the opposite problem, what with being the only girl, and being the baby, and having ridiculously overprotective parents. And a mother who had her life already planned out for her. Ginny had to admit that the defiant-teenager in her had been glad to see the first part of her mum's grand life plan overthrown when Ginny hadn't been named a Prefect. This was followed by a little bit of guilt, because she did love her parents, a lot. She was just really sick of having her life managed without her input.

Her mum wanted--nay, expected--her to be a Healer. Bleh. Ginny had no desire to work at St. Mungo's. She seriously doubted that she would be good enough to play professional Quidditch--and knew that, even if it was a viable option, McGonagall would hardly take that suggestion seriously in their career advice meeting. So she would have to come up with another appealing option. Unfortunately, there were very few posts at the Ministry of Magic that even came close to piquing her interest.

She had no desire to be an Auror. Extra years of training and inhumane work schedules did not appeal to her. And the only other jobs at the Ministry that seemed the slightest bit interesting, and where her abilities wouldn't be wasted, were in the Department of Magical Catastrophes and the Department of Mysteries.

Being an Obliviator was definitely out. The thought of erasing someone's memory, even if it was just a small portion, made her queasy. Her own experience with lost memory--during her possession by Tom Riddle--made her aversion to that line of work vehement indeed.

But being an Unspeakable....now that had potential. Having had somewhat of a tour of the Department of Mysteries (in a manner of speaking), Ginny found that she was curious about several of the rooms they had encountered along the way. She wasn't going to lie to herself; there would definitely be a personal motivation to working there. Too many personal things had happened there for it not to be.

What had those brains done to Ron? She wanted to know. Where did Sirius go when he fell through that veil? Were there any other prophecies about Harry or Voldemort, or even herself?

Potions research was also an attractive option, but she felt like it would be too far away from the action, at least until Voldemort was defeated.

Her first choice, quite frankly, was to teach at Hogwarts. Preferably Potions. She loved Hogwarts more than any other place she'd ever been. She loved The Burrow, and she had come to love Spinners End as well, but no place had done more to make her the person she was, or been responsible for happier memories, than Hogwarts.

She wondered if Snape would quit teaching if he was ever free of Voldemort's quasi-enslavement. He certainly didn't seem to enjoy teaching Potions, and she thought he would be much happier (as happy as it was possible for Snape to be, anyway) doing independent research, tucked away in some laboratory with a bunch of other grumpy Potions geniuses, far, far away from the wizarding world's young and impressionable.

Or, god forbid, teaching Defense.

Professor Snape intrigued her more than any other person she'd ever met or heard of. Harry didn't intrigue her exactly, as she generally could figure out what he was feeling and understood why he acted a certain way. She had the goods on Voldemort, too, and Dumbledore's inner workings frankly didn't interest her. But Snape, now there was an interesting man. So many mysteries about the guy.

He was basically a prodigy at Potions, which made it impossible for Snape-haters (i.e., non-Slytherins) to challenge his cranky arrogance. And Snape was undoubtedly an arrogant bastard, but he could back it up three times over. She actually wished that he would get the Defense job before she graduated, because if he was that good at Potions, and it wasn't even his first area of expertise. . .bugger, how ridiculous must he be with the Dark Arts and Defense? And they could definitely do worse in choosing a Defense teacher, after all they'd seen. At least they could be confident he wasn't trying to do Harry in.

After getting over her fear of him as a second year, Ginny had come to think of Professor Snape as the wizard equivalent of a shark or a crocodile--around since the beginning of time, a bit nasty, and probably going to survive us all. Then again, he was a Slytherin, so a reptilian comparison regarding base survival instinct wasn't monumentally out of line.

Ginny smiled to herself, thinking of Andy, who had perfected an imitation of the Snape Glare. Of course, the result wasn't quite as horrifying, seeing as Andy McGrath was ridiculously good looking and generally the most easy-going bloke you could hope to meet. But he had the gist of it, and he would break it out at both appropriate and random times, to Ginny's endless amusement.

Thinking of Andy made her curse for the millionth time the rule against owling from Spinners End. She desperately wanted to write Luna, Kerney, Andy, and Neville. A quick note to Nadine would be nice, and she was dying to write Katie Bell and her Quidditch friends from other houses about her new broom. Roman Keselica, the Keeper for Ravenclaw, would have kittens if he knew she a brand new Retro.

Another player from her year, Jamie Bowen (the only female Beater at Hogwarts in twenty years) would be excited for the challenge. Jamie and Ginny were both looking forward to the Gryffindor-Hufflepuff match this year, seeing as they would be playing directly opposite each other once Harry resumed his rightful place at Seeker and Ginny moved to Chaser. Jamie rode a Nimbus 3000, the newest of the Nimbus models, sturdier than Ginny's Retro, and perfect for a Beater.

With Fred and George gone, Hufflepuff undoubtedly had the best pair of Beaters in the school. Bruce Healy (who had taken over as captain from Cedric Diggory) would be in his seventh year, and had played with Jamie for two years already. Ginny hoped to Merlin that Harry would be able to find a replacement for at least one of their own Beaters, or that Jack and Andrew had made dramatic improvements over the summer.

Ginny's musings on Quidditch were interrupted when Herpo, who had been curled up in her lap, lifted his head and stared at the door to the study room. Ginny followed the kitten's gaze to the door, and sure enough, moments later, Harry poked his head around the door.

"Hey, Gin," he said.

"Hey, Harry." He took a look to make sure the way was clear and slipped into the room, sitting down in his usual spot at their table. Herpo climbed up Ginny's shoulder, presumably to give himself a better view of his owner.

"Okay, I wanted to ask you about the D.A."

"What about it?"

"Well, Hermione's been pestering me about whether I'm going to keep it up this year." Ginny nodded. "So, what do you think?"

"What did Ron say?" Harry smirked knowingly.

"He agreed with Hermione, of course. He's not going to disagree with her, so his input doesn't really count." Ginny nodded in agreement. And seeing as there was no way to get Ron alone for a private conversation, to find out what he really thought, it seemed a lost cause for the moment.

Truth be told, Ginny was beginning to wonder whether their orchestrated seclusion from Ron and Hermione had been affecting Ron's usually outspoken personality. He had rarely been one to hesitate at speaking up in the past, and of all times for him to back down from Hermione's authoritative manner, this was not the best time for him to start practicing conversational decorum.

"Well, I think you should keep it going. And not just because I want to pass into the N.E.W.T. Defense class." Harry smiled.

"Alright, now if I do stick with it, what are your thoughts on letting more members in?" Ginny had a feeling that Harry had already decided to continue the D.A., and that this was the real question he wanted answered.

"Let me guess, Hermione thinks it would be unfair and terrible if we limited it to last year's members." Harry smiled grimly.

"I was scolded for even suggesting it." Ginny sighed.

"Well, I think that's pretty short-sighted of her, considering. I mean, wasn't she the one who put the hex on that paper we all signed? I don't think we should make it an official school club. If Dumbledore gave it school sanction, we'd have to let everyone in, and some people might want to join just to interfere with our goals." Ginny was sure Harry knew who she was talking about.

"And Hermione doesn't have the best judgment when it comes to these things, does she? I mean, last year, she organized that meeting at the Hog's Head and it practically turned into a sideshow attraction of the Boy-Who-Lived. She really should have known better than to put you up there for everyone to have a go at you. I don't want to have the first meeting of the year turning into a free-for-all of asking you questions about Voldemort. Or Sirius."

"Yeah, I don't want that either."

"I think we could still let in new members, but only by invitation, like the Order does. If we keep it secret, make up another one of those lists, and have each new member sign it, I think we'd have a good system. There are a few people in my year who are definitely on our side and I'd like to get them in as soon as possible."

"All right. That was basically what I thought. If we're going to be doing more difficult spells and things and if we're going to be able to trust each other, I want to know personally every single member. I want to be able to rely on them, and know that we all have each other's back."

"Sounds good to me," Ginny replied. At that moment, Remus came through the door connecting his room to the study. Herpo sprang from where he had been resting on Ginny's shoulder, hopped across the desk, and leapt at an amused Remus, who caught and cradled him deftly as he spoke to the teenagers. Ginny suspected that Herpo knew Remus was a werewolf, and was basking in their kinship as animals.

Smiling at Herpo's obvious affection for him, Ginny said, "Hi, Remus."

"Hello. Harry, I was told by a very insistent witch that I am sternly to instruct you that under no circumstances are you to limit membership of the D.A." Ginny and Harry shared a look of exasperation.

"Well, this witch insists that you instruct that witch very sternly to sod off," Ginny replied. Remus and Harry smiled.

"I thought as much," Remus said.

"We were just talking about that," Harry added. "What do you reckon?" he asked Remus.

"I think it is completely up to you, but I would agree that limiting membership to invitation-only is probably the wisest course of action. Harry, no one has suffered from the betrayal of secret organizations more than you and I, and if you pointed that fact out to Hermione, I think she'd shut her mouth about it." Harry nodded somberly at this, his thoughts obviously on the three people he had lost from those betrayals.

"Okay, good," he said finally.

"That means you two are going to be quite busy this year, what with secret Defense clubs, secret extra studies, and Quidditch on top of your O.W.L. and N.E.W.T classes."

"Speaking of secret Defense clubs, do you know who our new Defense teacher is going to be?" Ginny asked. Remus shook his head.

"Unfortunately, I do not. I'd actually like to know, myself."

Classes and teachers reminded Ginny that they were leaving for Hogwarts the next day and she still hadn't shown Remus--or Harry--James Potter's Transfiguration book. She figured this was as good a time as any.

"Hey, guys?" she said, with an uncharacteristically tentative voice.

They turned their attention to her, and she swallowed as she bent down to retrieve the book. Remus' eyes lit up ever so slightly as he caught sight of it.

"I don't really know how to say this, but you might want to have a look at one of the books I got from Professor McGonagall." Harry looked at Remus, presumably to find out whether Remus knew what this was about. Remus nodded for Harry to take the book from Ginny, which he did.

As he opened it, and glanced at the inside cover, his eyes widened and his mouth gaped. He began flipping through the pages, and stopped every once in a while when he saw handwriting in the margins. About halfway through, he halted and looked up at Ginny with an unsure expression.

"Have you had it all this time?" Ginny had the courtesy to look abashed at this question. She shrugged.

"Well, I felt very strange when I first got it. You and I weren't really friends until the last couple weeks, and I felt terribly awkward about bringing it up. Now that we've talked a little and have gotten more comfortable with each other, I figured I could give it to you." Feeling the need to make him understand that she wasn't trying to keep it from him on purpose, she continued, more hurriedly.

"I haven't looked at it yet. I don't even know why they gave it to me. I mean, McGonagall wrote it, right? You'd think she could get her hands on another copy. I didn't mean to keep it from you, I just....didn't know how to give it to you. Please don't be mad." Remus and Harry both looked slightly surprised at Ginny's less than confident tone. Then Harry looked unsettled.

"You don't think we were friends before the last few weeks?" Oh no, Ginny thought. Please don't let this add to the massive guilt complex. Frick. She really needed to learn to think before she spoke. She glanced briefly at Remus before settling her gaze back on Harry as she began to speak. What could she do but be honest with him? If no one else would be, that was the least she could do.

"Well, to be honest, I think before last year I could count all of our conversations on one hand. And even last year we didn't exactly talk much. Except for the D.A., I guess. But it's fine, you know. It's not a big deal," she tried to assure him as his scowl continued to grow. "I mean, why would we? You have all these ridiculously huge problems to deal with and I used to have this incredibly embarrassing crush on you. Those two things didn't exactly make for a brilliant combination. We're not even in the same year." She hoped her emphasis on the words "used to" hadn't been too obvious. But the next words almost killed her to say.

"And I'm your best mate's little sister." Harry flinched at this, and Ginny rushed on, not understanding why he was so jarred by that fact or why she was losing her composure like this. She had never spoken to Harry frankly about their relationship (or lack thereof) before. It was becoming increasingly obvious that she hadn't known what she was getting herself into.

"My parents adore you. My brothers adore you." Well, not Percy, she reminded herself. "Plus, you saved my life. You've got my loyalty without question. I never expected that to make us friends. And it's okay, I have friends. Lots of them. I don't want you to feel like you have to talk to me out of some sense of guilt or duty to Ron or my parents. That's not how friendship works, Harry. Friendship requires effort and investment.

"But family is different; family is automatic. It's duty and brotherhood and unconditional support. At the very least you're part of our family by now, so even if you hadn't freed me from Tom, I'd still be behind you. You're my brother's best mate. You're the inspiration to defeat the Dark Lord. And after what he did to me, after what he did to my uncles, and what he did to Sirius, I would still be as angry and as ready to fight Voldemort as I am now, regardless of whether we're friends or not."

Ginny was straining for control at this point, both to keep the emotion out of her voice and to keep her magic under control. As she slowly took deep breaths to calm herself down, she saw that Remus' eyes were shining, mysteriously wet, and Harry looked stricken. Ack. That was not the reaction she had been trying to get from Harry. She cleared her throat and tried to fix it.

"But like I said, the last few weeks have been great. We are friends now, I think. We've talked quite a bit, we've been playing a secret game, and your cat likes me." She smiled a small smile. "So don't worry about anything. What matters is that we are mates now, and you have your dad's book. Quidditch will be that much more fun because we're friends, and Potions will be bearable. Why are you looking at me like that?"

Oh, Merlin.

Harry looked as though her words had rubbed him raw. She had never seen such untempered emotion and distress on his face and in his body language, with the exception of his reaction to his letter from Sirius. Remus was quite obviously becoming uneasy at witnessing what was ostensibly a very personal conversation. Ginny could see him standing behind Harry, trying to keep his eyes on the tiny grey kitten he was holding.

Ginny was desperate to know what was going on inside Harry's head, and was frantically wondering what in the name of Agrippa had possessed her to say all of those things to him. While they may have been true, she figured she could have used a bit more tact. The silence was starting to be unbearable and Ginny wondered if Harry would ever say anything. Finally he did, but it was in a small, almost strangled voice.

"Was it really that embarrassing to have a crush on me?" Well that sure wasn't what she was expecting. He looked miserable, while her face and neck burned with self-consciousness.

"Of course it wasn't. I just meant that you hardly needed some silly little girl sending you singing cards and knocking things over all the time when you had much bigger things to deal with," she explained. And then she sighed and closed her eyes, leaning her forehead into her hand. "I meant it was embarrassing for you."

Merlin, Ginny had never felt so humble in her life. She couldn't decide whether to be completely humiliated on her own account, or upset that Harry looked so distressed. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. Harry continued to ponder what she had said, and finally nodded (whether to himself or to Ginny, she did not know). When he made no motion to speak, Ginny's restlessness prevailed and she stood up.

She cleared her throat at the sudden urge she felt to cry, and quickly packed up her books as Harry watched her. "I need to go pack my trunk," she choked out. "Mum will kill me if I don't get it done today." She smiled weakly. "See you at supper."

And with that she closed her eyes and Apparated to her room. Dropping her bag of books on the floor, she fell on her bed and somehow managed to fall asleep without crying. She slept through dinner, and woke later that night to find a tray of warm food, and a table and chair that must have been conjured by Dobby or Winky. After eating, she packed and fell asleep at Spinners End for the last time until Christmas.

***

There was a certain comfort to putting on a pleated skirt, knee socks, an oxford shirt, and worn-in Dr. Martens again. It was the same comfort she found waking up in her four-poster in the girl's dormitory of Gryffindor Tower, where she could turn to her left and know Nadine would be there, still asleep like the dead, or she could roll back over to her right, knowing that Kerney would already be awake and probably in the shower. She smiled at the thought. Just a few hours and she'd see her friends again.

She could really use some of that comfort now, Ginny thought to herself. She still didn't know what had gotten into her yesterday, but was not excited about the prospect of spending the whole day traveling with Harry. And Hermione and Ron would be busy with Prefect duties all day. Great. She really hoped Neville and Luna sat with them again.

With a crimson and gold striped tie hung loosely around her neck, Ginny rolled her sleeves up to just below her elbows, put her hair into a ponytail, and turned to her trunk. As she ran through her last-minute checklist and locked her trunk one last time, she could hear her mother yelling up for everyone to hurry downstairs or they were going to be late. Grabbing her trunk in her right hand and her Retro's box in her left, she dragged her school things out into the hall to be levitated down the stairs.

Harry appeared next to her, trying to negotiate both Hedwig and Herpo, but the wily kitten was not making it easy. While things were still more than a little awkward after their conversation the day before, when Harry shot her a weary look, Ginny attempted a small smile and took Herpo off his hands. They headed downstairs and were ushered to the fireplace by a predictably frazzled Mrs. Weasley, who told them to floo right away and not wait for Ron and Hermione.

Harry motioned for her to go first, but Ginny thought it was more because he wanted to put off having to floo for as long as possible, than because of any feelings of chivalry. Harry hated to floo. Come to think of it, Ginny didn't like it very much either.

Stepping into the fireplace, she threw down her floo powder and yelled, "Grimmauld Place." She was just starting to contemplate that she had forgotten exactly how much she disliked flooing, when she was tossed unceremoniously through the fireplace at her destination, colliding with someone in the kitchen. That someone had caught her awkwardly around the waist, and managed to do so without the two of them falling over.

Head still looking down and checking to make sure she still had Herpo in one hand, she used the person's arm to steady herself with the other. When she did, she looked up to see that her helper was Draco Malfoy.

Starting at this realization and backing away, she inadvertently squeezed Herpo a little too hard and he let out a small yelp. This briefly drew her and Draco's attention to the kitten, but they were soon drawn back into eye contact again. Ginny gulped as she tried to make out whether she was more curious at his presence in Order headquarters or distressed at having been in his quasi-embrace.

For his part, Draco looked uncharacteristically baffled and, upon noticing that her Gryffindor tie had flung itself over his shoulder when they collided, Ginny snorted with amusement. At his questioning look, she stepped forward and plucked the tie from his shoulder and hesitated before backing away again completely.

"Um, thanks," she offered tentatively. "Er. . .sorry for running into you." Draco didn't respond except for a nod to convey his recognition of what she had said.

At that moment, Harry came tumbling out with Hedwig's cage (and a screeching Hedwig), knocking Ginny over again, but all the way to floor this time.

When they had finally ceased moving, she looked at Harry, who quickly must have realized he was lying completely on top of her, because he blushed crimson and looked down to where their bodies met, snapping his head back up when she said his name.

"Harry," she said quietly to get his attention. He looked her in the eye and when she raised her eyebrows in expectation, the light bulb went on and he clumsily tried to pick himself up.

"Erm, sorry, Ginny." Once he was up and Hedwig's cage was righted, he leaned down and offered her a hand to help her up, which she took, trying (she hoped not in vain) to keep her skirt covering what it was supposed to. Harry's face was still flushed and he did not seem able to decide whether to stare at her or avoid her eyes completely. Feeling someone staring at her from her other side, Ginny turned back to Malfoy, but he had already turned to look at Harry, smirk back in its usual place.

"Bet you enjoyed that, didn't you, Potter," he drawled, his familiar sneer back in all its arrogant brilliance. If it was possible, Harry turned even more red, and then his brow furrowed.

"Bugger off, Malfoy," he responded, clearly annoyed. Then a perplexed expression took over his face. He turned to find Tonks standing behind them, and promptly asked, "What the hell is he doing here?" Tonks' whole body sagged a bit to express what Ginny thought was weariness, and the Auror sighed.

"Aunt Cissa owled my mum to ask if I could help my dear cousin. Seems he's decided he's not cut out for Tom's little troupe of terror. Didn't want that nasty black skull mucking up his beautiful Malfoy complexion." Draco scowled as she spoke, but made no move to interrupt her. Ginny and Harry looked back and forth between them, plainly surprised that he had not snapped back with some type of nasty response. Tonks saw this and grinned in a manner Ginny thought was a bit too much like Fred and George.

"Oh, he won't say anything back, he's learned his lesson about crossing me. He must have forgotten that his only cousin spent her free time after Hogwarts training to be an Auror. I don't think he likes Aurors very much, but he may have just learned that from his old man." To Ginny and Harry's continuing shock, Draco didn't flinch with anger or lash out at Tonks. They shared an incredulous look and turned back to Draco, whose shoulders had slumped. His face was tired and carried little of its usual resentfulness.

Just then, Ron came sliding out of the fireplace with Pig, not falling since he was already half on the ground as he arrived. Ginny snorted and Harry smiled. Draco rolled his eyes.

Soon after, Hermione landed softly and easily on her feet, Crookshanks nestled in one arm. Remus followed, explaining that their luggage had been taken straight to Hogwarts.

Then Ron noticed Malfoy standing next to Harry and Ginny. Hermione must have sensed the coming explosion, because Ron had barely started to yell when he was promptly shut up with a well-placed elbow to the ribs. It looked like Hermione had actually knocked the wind out of him, and the four of them--including Draco--couldn't help but chuckle at Ron's surprised breathlessness. Tonks unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile.

"Ready to go?" Remus asked the group. Adjusting her hold on Herpo, Ginny nodded and watched as the werewolf pulled a fork out of his pocket. Portkey, yessss. "Everybody get a hand in, quickly now." They all reached in and Ginny held onto Herpo tightly as a whirlwind jerked behind her navel, whisking her off to King's Cross.