The Phoenix Chronicles, Volume I: Phoenix Dawn

The Phoenix Chronicles, Volume I: Phoenix Dawn

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor the characters associated with Harry Potter. I do not make money on this and am writing it purely for the entertainment of myself and all those who read this.

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Chapter 3: The Importance of Being Ginny

Ginny was numb the entire train ride back from school after the funeral. She wasn't paying any attention to her surroundings; she was hardly aware of Luna and Neville sitting in the compartment with her. She stared out the window, but she wasn't looking at the passing scenery. All she saw was raven-dark hair and emerald green eyes.

The funny thing about all this was that Ginny didn't blame Harry for what he did. She wasn't even angry about it. That silly noble streak of his was part of the reason why she liked him so much. And, if the tables had been reversed, she would have probably done the same thing. Maybe it was part of being a Gryffindor, but she couldn't find fault in him wanting to keep those he cared about as far away as he could.

Which does not mean that it still doesn't bloody hurt like hell, she thought miserably. It had been a dream of hers, since before she had met him, to one day be with Harry Potter. She had a hopelessly naïve crush on the legend of the Boy-Who-Lived, when she first met Harry. What she had found, once she had actually got to know him, was that the legend paled in comparison to reality. And she had found herself, little by little, falling out of love with Harry Potter the fairy tale and in love with Harry Potter the man.

Ginny shook her head and scowled. No, it wasn't love. She liked him a lot, but it took longer than three weeks to fall in love with someone. Ginny sighed. But it was the best three weeks of my life. When she had dated Michael Corner and Dean Thomas, it was great and it was fun, but it was never anything serious. She wouldn't let it get that far; in the back of her mind, she had still held out some hope for Harry. She knew she was being ridiculous, since he really never paid much attention to her the entire time they had known each other. But she always compared Michael and Dean to Harry, and they always fell short. They weren't quite as brave as Harry in the face of danger (as she had now witnessed on multiple occassions), they weren't as loyal as Harry was to his friends and loved ones, they weren't as kind or polite as Harry was to others, even those he didn't know, they hadn't saved her life from a possessed diary like Harry had saved her. In short, they were not Harry Potter.

Ginny closed her eyes. If the last three weeks were like living someone else's life, as Harry had said, then she had lived a fantasy from which she never wanted to return. It wasn't just about the snogging sessions, either (although they were better than she had ever imagined). In his arms, she felt safe and untouchable, so much so that the might of Voldemort and his Death Eaters could charge up to them in those moments and would fail to lay so much as a finger on her.

After Dumbledore's death, she knew what would inevitably follow. She actually was surprised, in a way, that he waited as long as he did to break up with her. She had held out hope that maybe he wouldn't, that he might think that the risk was worth taking. But it was a faint hope, she knew Harry too well, and when he started the conversation at the end of the funeral, she knew it was over.

Was it over? Would either of them let this be the end of it and go their separate ways, regardless of the outcome of the war? Ginny didn't know. She wondered, for a moment, how long she would wait for Harry Potter to do whatever it was he had to do. Another sigh escaped her lips. Probably a lifetime. But would he wait for her? She thought back again to his words. They could have had months, years even. Would he wait months or years for the chance of a lifetime with her? Would she?

Ginny felt the stirrings of a headache forming across her forehead. Deciding that she'd thought about this long enough, and vowing that she would not let this ruin her summer, she rested her head back against the seat and closed her eyes, clearing her mind and falling asleep shortly thereafter for the rest of the trip.

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After one month of her summer gone, Ginny knew that it was ruined.

It hadn't started well. When the Hogwarts Express pulled into King's Cross station, she was one of the first ones to get off. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley immediately pulled her into a hug, but she was struggling to look over her mother's shoulder at the departing students, searching for one in particular.

She saw him get off with Ron and Hermione. The three of them exchanged hugs, and Ginny watched as Ron and Hermione started towards them, while Harry seemed to start walking away. Ginny began to panic as she tried desperately to get away from her parents. She started to run towards Harry, but as she passed Ron, he grabbed her arm. "Ginny, don't," he warned. Ginny broke his grip and continued after Harry, but halted when he turned around and looked straight at her. Their eyes met, and she saw longing and regret in his. She wanted to go to him, and took a step, and that's when his eyes hardened. Not to hate, not to loathing, but to indifference.

It was a dagger to her heart, and she forced a sob back down her throat. Without a word spoken, Harry turned and walked away. She stared after him as he left, for what felt like hours, and watched as the dream evaporated into nothingness. There would be no waiting. There would be no months or years. There was three weeks, and there was no more.

Ginny felt a tear run down her cheek as she turned and slowly walked back. She was in a daze; she barely remembered the trip home to the Burrow from the station. She barely remembered going up to her room after arriving home. She barely remembered throwing herself on her bed, sobs wracking her body as she buried her face into her pillow. All she remembered was raven hair and emerald eyes walking away from her.

Ginny did her best to try to forget about Harry over the course of the next month, but it quickly turned into a lesson in futility. Trips around the pitch on her broom only reminded her of flying with Harry at Hogwarts. Sitting down by the river reminded her of sitting by the lake with Harry at school. Even working on her summer homework served only to bring back memories of Harry sitting quietly with her while she revised for her O.W.L.s. No matter what she tried to do, everything always came back to Harry.

The sudden change in behavior did not escape the notice of her parents. While Mr. Weasley felt it better to let Ginny sort out her problems in her own time, Mrs. Weasley was of the opinion that the more it was talked about, the better it became. Ginny resisted her mother's efforts at first, but eventually relented. She told her what Harry said after the funeral, and the look they shared at the train station. Her mother comforted her and reminded her that if they were meant to be, it would work out, which Ginny responded to with a snort, followed by a sob.

To make matters worse, owls from Privet Drive were few and far between. When they did come, they were from Ron, and said little other than they were fine (considering where they were), and that they would see them soon, though he never said exactly when. He was careful (and probably coached by Hermione) in what he wrote in his letters, in case any were intercepted by unwanted eyes. In a couple, Hermione even wrote a few words, saying hi and how they all missed everyone terribly. Noticeably absent were any letters from Harry. Ginny couldn't decide whether she was upset by this or not. Regardless, it did very little to lift her spirits.

With about a week left in July, Ginny had just come into the house from a rather lengthy de-gnoming session out in the garden when she heard voices drifting in from the living room. Cautiously she approached the door between it and the kitchen, listening carefully to the ongoing conversation.

"Oi, Mum, you're squeezing the life out of me!"

"I'm sorry, dear, but I haven't seen you for a month, and you've barely written, and I've missed you, you're all skin and bones. Are you hungry, do you want me to fix you anything?"

"Seriously, Mum, I can't breathe!"

Ginny chuckled to herself, then burst through the door. Mrs. Weasley was busy hugging the life out of a soot-covered Ron, with an almost identically covered Hermione behind him, brushing herself off. Unable to help herself, she ran over to her brother, pulling him out of her mother's grip to give him a bone-crushing hug of her own.

Ron groaned. "Can't a guy breathe for three seconds?"

Ginny smiled and relaxed her arms. "I've missed you big brother!"

Ron smiled. "Yeah, good to see you too, Ginny."

Ginny let go and moved over to Hermione. "Hi, Hermione, how are you?" she asked, giving the older girl a hug of her own.

"I'm fine, Ginny." Hermione glanced over at the fireplace. "What is taking him so long?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe he's giving the place one last look over?" he suggested.

Hermione was about to respond when Mr. Weasley walked into the room. "Ah, Ron, Hermione, I'm glad to see your back." He gave Hermione a quick hug and clasped Ron on the back. "How was your stay with the....um....the Muggles?"

"The Dursleys, Dad, and it went all right, I guess, at least as much as can be expected," Ron answered.

Hermione huffed. "They are horrible people. I can't believe that Harry said that was them on good behavior!" She glanced at the fireplace again. "Maybe I should Floo back and check on him."

"He'll be along any second, just be patient," Mr. Weasley said reassuringly. "As many bad memories as it sounds like he's had there, it's still a part of his life. He might be looking for some sort of closure before he leaves."

"Maybe leave a few well placed hexes as well," Ginny murmured. Mrs. Weasley gave her daughter piercing look.

"Well whatever he's doing, he worrying us sick. This is so inconsiderate." Hermione was starting to fume.

At that moment, Harry came tumbling out of the fireplace, soot flying everywhere. He stood up, brushing himself off, then looked up and noticed everyone staring at him. "Umm...hi?"

"Harry James Potter! What in the bloody hell took you so long? Did you think that we wouldn't be worried if you didn't come tumbling out right after Ron? Are you completely and utterly daft?" Hermione yelled. Seeing everyone staring at her, she muttered, "Well, it could have been serious."

As Ginny watched her parents greet Harry, she began to have doubts about being in the same house as him. She thought, with time away from him, that the pain would lessen, that her feelings for him, whatever they were, would ease and die. But with one look at him, everything that she had felt for him during those three weeks at Hogwarts came rushing back from a tidal wave. She wanted to talk to him, to run over and throw her arms around him, but the little bit of rationality still in her was enough to hold her back. She focused her attention back on the conversation.

"...but decided to leave the Dursleys a parting gift," Harry was telling Ron and Hermione. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had already left the room.

"Harry, what did you do?" Hermione was seething. Ginny braced herself for an explosion.

"Well, I was thinking about all the times I seemed to turn their life upside down, and I thought it would be horribly inappropriate if I didn't leave them something to remember me by, as a way of showing my gratitude."

"What did you do?"

"I rearranged their furniture."

"What?"

"Oi! I know what you did! Brilliant, mate!"

"What, exactly, did he do?"

"I put their furniture on the ceiling."

Ginny couldn't help herself. She had been trying to stay quiet, though she wasn't sure why. Part of her wanted Harry to notice her, the other part hoped he'd walk away without giving her a second thought. In the end, she made the decision herself, albeit involuntarily. She giggled.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion as Harry turned towards Ginny. "Hi, Ginny."

Ginny felt blood rushing to her head and her heart pounding in her ears. Bloody hell, she thought to herself. "Hi Harry, glad to see you're finally here."

"Um, sure, thanks, Gin. How are you holding up?"

Ginny's tempered flared, the slight smile disappearing from her face. "Don't worry about me, Harry. I'll survive The-Boy-Who-Lived," she retorted before spinning in place and marching out of the room.

Ginny stormed through the kitchen and out the the door. How dare Harry think that I am incapable of surviving without him! Who does he think-

A scream from inside the house interrupted her thoughts. The anger was replaced by fear. She knew who it was before she burst back through the kitchen. She knew who it was before she ran back into the living room. What she found confirmed the fear in her heart.

"Harry!" she screamed. He was shaking uncontrollably. Ron and her father were trying to hold him down; Mrs. Weasley was trying to stabilize his head, to keep him from snapping his neck. Hermione was struggling with his legs. Their combined effort, however, seemed to do very little to stop him. Tears sprang from Ginny's eyes.

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed. "Help us hold him down!" Ginny just stood there, staring. "Ginny!"

Ginny glanced at her mother. She snapped out of her shock and rushed to Harry's side, grabbing his hand and sobbing. To everyone's surprise, the seizure stopped. Ginny dropped his hand in surprise. He started to shake again.

"Ginny, grab his hand!" Mr. Weasley exclaimed. Ginny just stared. "Ginny, do it!"

Ginny grabbed his hand again and Harry stopped convulsing. Tears streamed down her cheeks but this time she held on tightly. "Harry!" she cried.

Harry's eyes fluttered open. They didn't move around; they were staring straight into Ginny's. "Ginny," he whispered. "Ginny...I..." His eyes closed and he fell back into unconsciousness.

"Harry!" she sobbed, holding tight with one hand and caressing his forehead with the other. She felt her mother's hands on her shoulders.

"Ron, go Floo Professor McGonagall, tell her we need Madam Pomfrey here immediately," Mr. Weasley said. Ron jumped up and dashed to the fireplace. Mr. Weasley turned to his wife. "Molly, go fetch a washcloth and water. Bring it upstairs to Ron's room. Hermione, go help her." As they stood and ran into the kitchen, Mr. Weasley pulled out his wand.

"Ginny, let go so I can levitate him upstairs."

"No."

"Ginny, do as I say."

"No."

Mr. Weasley studied his daughter for a moment. He sighed, and waved his wand. "Mobilicorpus." Harry's body raised up into the air and began floating towards the stairs. Refusing to let go of his hand, Ginny stayed by his side the entire way to Ron's room. Mr. Weasley eased Harry into bed. Ginny pulled a chair up to the bed and sat down.

Ron ran into the room. "McGonagall said that Madam Pomfrey will be here as soon as possible," he said, breathing heavily.

Mr. Weasley nodded, just as Mrs. Weasley came into the room with a bowl of water, Hermione following with a cloth. She looked at Harry's soot-covered clothes, pulled out her wand, and transfigured them to loose pajamas. She moved next to Ginny. "Ginny, dear," she began, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"No," Ginny replied, her eyes never leaving Harry.

"Please, hun, he needs looked after."

"Then I'll do it."

Mrs. Weasley regarded her daughter for a moment, then set the bowl down on the nightstand by the bed. Hermione handed Ginny the cloth. With her free hand, Ginny dipped it into the water and wrung the excess out, before proceeding to dab it across Harry's forehead. She rinsed the soot out of the cloth, wrung in again, and pressed the cloth across his forehead.

A few minutes later Madam Pomfrey burst into the room. "Everyone clear out, now." All but Ginny made a move toward the door. "Miss Weasley, move. I'm not asking."

"I'm not leaving."

"This is not a request."

"This is not an option."

The two stared each other down, neither one backing off. Mr. Weasley cleared his throat. "Poppy, perhaps you can examine Harry around Ginny."

Madam Pomfrey gave him a look, then pulled out her wand as she walked beside the bed. She waved it across Harry as she muttered different incantations, his body glowing different pale shades of color with each one. Madam Pomfrey's frown worsened with each color. Finally she put her wand away and stepped away from the bed.

"Physically, he's fine. I can't find anything wrong with him," she told Mr. Weasley.

Ginny frowned. "Then why won't he wake up?"

"I would surmise," Madam Pomfrey explained, "that his ordeal, whatever it was, probably taxed his energy extremely, and his body is simply trying to recover."

Ginny looked over Harry's face. "So he's just sleeping?"

"A very deep sleep, and one that we probably should not wake him from until he's ready." Madam Pomfrey made towards the door. "I'll leave a couple potions downstairs for him to take, in case he wakes with any pain." She turned towards Mr. Weasley. "Arthur, if there's any complications notify me immediately, but I daresay all he needs now is rest." She looked at Ginny. "I imagine, after the stress you all have been through, he is not the only one needing it." Ginny stiffened slightly, but made no move of turning around.

Mr. Weasley put his hand on Madam Pomfrey's arm. "Thank you, Poppy. We'll let you know when he wakes up. I think Molly has tea waiting downstairs, if you care for a cup."

Madam Pomfrey smiled. "Thank you, Arthur, I think I'll shall." She looked over towards Ginny. "Miss Weasley, I apologize for being, well, gruff with you earlier."

"S'kay." She didn't move from the chair.

"Here, Poppy, I'll walk you down. Ginny, call if you need anything." Mr. Weasley waited for an acknowledgment from his daughter. Receiving none, he sighed and walked downstairs with Madam Pomfrey, leaving Ginny to her bedside vigil.

Hours later, Mr. Weasley walked back upstairs to find his daughter still seated beside the bed. Her head was nodded forward, and her breathing was regular. He quietly walked to the foot of the bed, and saw her hand was still firmly gripping Harry's. A faint smile tugged the corner of his mouth. Gently he shook her shoulder.

Ginny's eyes slowly opened and looked up to her father. "Hi, Dad," she said, groggily sitting up straighter and rubbing her stiff neck. "What time is it?"

"Late." He looked at Harry. "He hasn't woken up yet?"

Ginny shook her head. "No, at least as far as I know. I'm not sure how long I've been asleep, though."

"You need to get some rest. You're doing Harry no good if you're exhausted."

"I'm not leaving, Dad. I can't."

"Have you tried letting go?" he asked gently.

Ginny looked at Harry. "I...I don't want to let go," she whispered.

Mr. Weasley suddenly was stuck with a feeling that what they were talking about was more than simply letting go of Harry's hand. "Ginny," he said, "I know it's hard. Letting go of things we care about always is. But sometimes it's for the best."

Tears streamed down her cheeks. "It hurts."

Mr. Weasley walked behind his daughter and wrapped his arms around her. "Of course it does. It wouldn't mean so much to us if it doesn't."

"I don't want to lose him."

"Who says you will? Who says that letting go now doesn't mean he won't come back?"

Ginny sniffed. She looked at Harry's hand, still in hers. "Do you think he will, Dad? Do you think he would come back?"

"After what we've seen today, do you doubt it?"

Ginny sighed. Gradually, she lessened the pressure on Harry's hand, and watched it slide out of her hands. Harry didn't stir. The sobs wracked her body, and she turned out of the chair and threw herself into her father's arms. "I'm scared, Dad," she whimpered.

"It'll be all right, hun. In the end, it'll be all right." Mr. Weasley kissed her on the top of her head. "Go clean yourself up and get some rest."

"He...he shouldn't be alone."

"He won't be," Mr. Weasley promised. "I'll stay with him."

"Thanks, Dad." She slid out of his arms. She looked at Harry once more. She wiped her arms across her eyes, then turned and walked out the door.

Mr. Weasley closed the door, then sat down in the chair beside Harry. He looked at Harry a long time in silence, lost in thought, before breaking down in violent sobs.

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Ginny awoke the next morning with only one thought in her mind. She jumped out of bed and ran to Ron's room, and found Harry's bed empty. She smiled and raced to the stairs. She heard voices down in the kitchen and she stopped to listen.

"...I'm just glad you're okay, Harry," she heard Hermione say. "You really had us scared."

"Seriously, mate, are you all right?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay, just...tired, is all," Harry said. Ginny smiled at the sound of his voice.

"Good. Reckon some Quidditch after breakfast?" Ron asked. There was an uncomfortable silence following the question. Ginny guessed it was probably due to Hermione. "Well, um, maybe some Wizard's Chess, then?"

"Sounds good."

Ginny decided she'd done enough eavesdropping, and descended the rest of the way down the stairs. She stopped upon entering the kitchen, her eyes on Harry. The noise of breakfast almost stopped when everyone else saw her. Harry noticed this, and looked up at her. Brown eyes met green, and for a moment, Ginny felt a spark that had been a major part of their relationship. But Harry's expression changed to indifference, and he quickly looked back down to his food.

It would have hurt less if a spike had been driven through her heart. She quickly fled outside and didn't stop until she was by the river. She sat down on the bank against a tree, and cried until she fell asleep.

For the entire week leading up to Harry's birthday, Ginny decided it was best to avoid him as much as possible. This meant that, during the days, most of her time was spent away from the house and the Quidditch pitch, and the evenings were spent in her room with the door closed. During meals she ensured that she and Harry were seated at the opposite ends of the table. When they did happen to cross paths, the extent of the conversations were a cordial "Hi" and they went on their way. By the end of the month Ginny was convinced that any future involving Harry Potter was long dead. The two days leading up to Harry's birthday she rarely left her room, just staring out the window and thinking what could have been. Tears usually accompanied these thoughts.

Ginny awoke early the morning of the 31^st of July. She dressed quickly but quietly doing her best not to awake Hermione (who had arrived the day before). Once she was dressed, she headed out of the room and walked down the stairs and into the kitchen. Her mother was already up making breakfast.

"Ginny, dear, would you mind helping me cook breakfast?"

"I'm not terribly hungry, Mum, I actually thought I'd do some chores outside." Ginny was a bit hungry, but she had very little desire in helping to prepare Harry's birthday breakfast.

"Nonsense, that can wait. I have a household to feed. Please?" Mrs. Weasley asked.

Ginny exhaled, and relented. Soon, the twins, Bill, and Fleur arrived and were seated at the table as Ginny and Mrs. Weasley finished cooking. By the time the food was set on the table Ron and Hermione had come downstairs and sat down, Mr. Weasley following close behind.

"Ron, dear, would you be so kind as to wake Harry? I don't want the food to go cold before he has a chance to eat."

"Sure, Mum," Ron replied, jumping up and dashing back up the stairs.

Ginny sighed and sat down at the table, loading up her plate with some eggs and sausage links. After a moment, Ron came back down the stairs grinning. "He's on his way," he announced, sitting down by Hermione. Ginny studied the two of them. They seemed to be sitting rather close to each other, and each one had a sort of glow about them.

Ginny looked around the table and suddenly realized that the only other empty chair was beside her. Her heart raced, and she glanced around trying to think of what do. She ran out of time as soon as Harry walked down the stairs. Bloody hell, she thought. They caught each other's looks briefly, before Ginny turned away. She did her best not to look up as he walked up and sat down beside her.

Mrs. Weasley came up, wishing Harry a happy birthday and setting a plate piled high with food in front of him. Harry's stomach growled at the sight, provoking laughter and causing a smile to form on Ginny's lips. Harry caught this, and Ginny caught him catching her. The smile disappeared and Ginny looked away.

After breakfast, the boys headed out for a game of Quidditch. Ginny and Hermione remained behind to help Mrs. Weasley with cleanup and some outdoor chores before the party began. Ginny did not speak much, and Hermione came close a few times to commenting on this, but seemed to decide to not say anything, for which Ginny was grateful.

When they finished de-gnoming the garden and setting up the tables and chairs, Ginny retreated back to her room, locking the door behind her. She watched from her window as the rest of the guests arrived, taking amusement in Tonks' unusual, yet typical, entrance. She saw Harry and Kingsley Shacklebolt disappear around the corner of the house, away from the other partygoers. She wondered what they were up to, but dismissed the thought as being none of her business. After a time, they reappeared and Harry began to open his presents.

He was just finishing opening up his last gift when there was a soft knock on Ginny's door. "Ginny?" a voice called.

"Come in," she replied. The door opened and Hermione stepped into the room. "Oh, hi Hermione," greeted Ginny.

"Hey, Ginny, you okay?"

"Straight to the point, huh?" Ginny grumbled, turning back towards the window.

Hermione sat on the edge of Ginny's bed. "Sorry, I guess I've never been one to beat around the bush."

Ginny laughed softly. "Yeah, you're right."

Hermione smiled. "So, how are you doing?"

"I'm okay, I guess," Ginny replied. Hermione just stared at her. "All right, I could be doing better, but I'm okay under the circumstances."

"I wish you'd come down to the party. Everyone is missing you right now."

Ginny snorted. "I doubt everyone is."

"Yes, everyone is, including Harry," Hermione retorted.

Ginny scoffed. "Excuse me if I find that hard to believe."

"Why is that?" Hermione asked.

"Have you not noticed the looks he gives me? Oh, on the rare occasion we're in the same room, I might add."

Hermione frowned. "First, don't pretend he's the only one playing the avoiding game. Second, do you know why he did what he did?"

"Break up with me? Yeah, he was pretty clear on the whole thing at the funeral. Noble spirit and all that."

"Do you think it's been any easier on him than it's been on you?" Hermione asked.

"Must be, he's done a fantastic job of avoiding me so far."

"Like I just said, he's not the only doing the avoiding, from what I'm told."

Ginny looked over at Hermione. "Your source is probably a little biased, being best mates with Harry Potter."

Hermione laughed. "Maybe, but I doubt it. His baby sister is also involved in this. I don't think he'd take sides."

Ginny allowed a smile to escape. "Believe me, I think he would." She turned back towards the window. "I just need to forget and move on from Harry."

"Do you really want to?"

Ginny sighed. "No. But I don't seem to have a choice, do I?"

"Ironic, but that seems to be what Harry feels right now." Ginny gave Hermione a confused look, so she explained, "Harry is doing what he thinks will keep you the safest, which is far away from him. And it's slowly killing him."

"Killing him how?"

"He's been having a dream each night since we left Hogwarts. A nightmare, actually. In it, Voldemort beats him."

"What's that have to do with me?" Ginny asked.

"He kills you, not Harry."

Ginny stared at Hermione. Hermione continued, "Did anyone tell you what happened when Harry had his episode a week ago?" Ginny shook his head. "Voldemort spoke to him."

Ginny paled. "What did he say?"

"'I can see you, and I can see her.'"

Ginny took a moment to process this. "He can see us?"

Hermione shook his head. "I don't think so, and neither does Harry. I think it's more likely that he found about you two from Snape, so it's probably more of a bluff of sorts."

"But can he see where we are?"

Hermione sat there a moment. "I don't think that, either. Voldemort's been very guarded the past year, trying to keep Harry out of his head. He probably would be afraid that Harry would be able to see where he was, as well."

"With Dumbledore gone, why would he be afraid?"

"A good question, and honestly I don't know, but this is the first 'attack' on Harry since Dumbledore died, which leads me to believe that Voldemort is still being shy on the attack."

"Even if he can't see us, he can still put two and two together and figure out where we are."

"You're right, of course. Harry thought of the same thing and talked it over at great length with your dad the next day."

"Well, since we're still here, I'm guessing that they didn't decide to do anything."

"It was your dad's decision to make, and I don't think he's made it yet. They don't feel that an attack is imminent, it'd be like showing your cards before the hand's over." Ginny gave her a blank look. "It's a Muggle thing, sorry."

"You know, no one's even bothered to ask why I was able to...well, calm Harry during his episode."

Hermione shrugged. "I think it was pretty much assumed that no one involved, including you and Harry, would have any idea why you were able to do that. No one's asked Harry, either. And honestly, who would we be able to turn to for answers? Dumbledore's dead. All we'd be able to do is make guesses, but it wouldn't get us anywhere, you know?"

Ginny shrugged and look back out the window. "So he's been having that nightmare since the funeral?"

"Yes. Silence charms are put on his room each night."

"Why?"

Hermione frowned. "So no one else wakes up from his screams."

Ginny closed her eyes. She was struggling to keep control of her emotions. "I...didn't know," she whispered.

Hermione put her hand on Ginny's shoulder. "Of course not. You know Harry, it was a struggle to get him to talk about it to me."

Ginny chuckled. "Yeah, sounds about right." They sat in silence. "I don't want to lose him, Hermione."

"I know, Ginny. He feels the same about you."

"Yeah, right."

"Do you doubt that? After what I've just told you and what you did last week?"

"After seeing how he reacts whenever I'm near him, yeah, I do."

"How much of that is in response to how you react to him?" Hermione asked. She was starting to tread on dangerous ground, and didn't want to get Ginny riled up.

"How I react to him? Are you kidding?" Ginny asked, her voice getting louder.

"No, I'm not, and don't get angry about this, I'm trying to help both of you," Hermione responded. "Think about it, though. What would Harry think if he saw you acting like you can't stand the sight of him?"

Ginny thought a moment. "That I didn't care about him," she answered.

"Do you?"

Ginny was taken aback at this question. "Of course I do. You know that, probably better than anyone."

"Do you care about him a lot?"

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

"I...don't know." Ginny was starting to feel uncomfortable. "How can I, it was only for three weeks."

"It was for longer than that. Just because you two were 'official' for only three weeks, doesn't mean that you're only allowed to fall in love during that time."

Ginny was starting to become very uncomfortable, so she decided to try to go on the offensive. "Do you love Ron?"

"What do you-I mean, where did you-who told-" Hermione sputtered. Ginny started giggling. Hermione sighed. "Touché," she said.

"Does he know?"

Hermione snorted. "Does he know? The prat told me that I did."

Ginny gaped. "He told you that you loved him?"

"Yeah, after a good row that found me locking myself in the bathroom for three hours and him waiting outside the door for every single minute of it."

"He did? Ron's usually not that patient. What were you arguing about that made him tell you that you loved him?"

Hermione sighed. "What else? Viktor."

"Vicky?"

"Yes, Viktor. I'll give you the short version, since we've seemed to somehow get off subject here," Hermione said, giving Ginny a pointed glare. Ginny smiled innocently. "I got a letter from Viktor yesterday, and it would just have to be delivered in front of Ron. When he found out who it was from, well, you know how Ron gets." Ginny nodded. "Well, after a few rounds of arguments and some name calling, Ron kissed me, and then I-"

"He kissed you?" Ginny was shocked.

"Yes, and I was so shocked that I slapped him and locked myself in the bathroom for three hours. He said he wasn't leaving until I came out, which is why I was in there for so long. Finally, I had enough and opened the door, to find Ron falling backwards onto the floor. He starts muttering about a headache, so I go to look up a potion for it."

"Hermione, tell me you didn't."

Hermione laughed. "Yes, well, anyways, he grabs me before I have a chance to run off, and kisses me again. I didn't know what he was trying to do, so I started crying, hoping that would get him to stop."

"You wanted him to stop?"

"Not really, but I was panicked. He stopped and asked what I was crying about, so I said that he was only kissing me to keep me away from Viktor."

"Valid point."

"I thought so, but he said that if I was, well, 'too bloody daft' to see that he loved me and I loved him, then I would be better off with Viktor."

Ginny gasped. "Then what?"

Hermione shrugged. "I kissed him."

"Oh, Hermione!" Ginny exclaimed, throwing herself onto her friend. "I can't believe it! I'm so excited for you two!"

Hermione smiled as she hugged Ginny. "Thanks, Ginny. It feels, well, it's like I'm seeing everything in a different way. It's hard to describe."

"Like suddenly the future is clearer than it has even been before?"

Hermione nodded, and started to smirk. "I'm glad you know what I'm talking about."

Oh, bloody hell, Ginny thought. She sat there awhile longer. "I can't say what I'm feeling, Hermione. It really doesn't matter, does it?"

"It does, and if you want there to be hope for it when this is all over, then you have to do something important about it."

"What's that?" Ginny asked.

"Be yourself."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Ginny, when you first met Harry, how did you act? Actually, more importantly, how did you not act?"

"Like myself," she answered.

"And all Harry saw then was some crush-induced girl who sent him awful Valentine's," Hermione said. "Now what did you that made him start to notice you?"

"I started acting like myself." Ginny sighed. "Do you know how hard that will be?"

Hermione nodded. "Do you feel he's worth it?"

Ginny looked out the window. Harry was standing in the garden talking to Bill as he ate some of his birthday cake. "Yeah, I do."

"Then maybe you can start by finding something to give him for his birthday," Hermione said as she stood up.

Ginny gave her a hug. "Thanks, Hermione. I needed this."

Hermione smiled sadly. "I know, Ginny. I'm sorry I didn't talk to you about it earlier." Hermione let go. "You okay, then?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine. Go enjoy the party." Hermione gave her a pat on the arm before leaving the bedroom.

Ginny gazed out the window a little longer, than stepped away and opened her trunk. Reaching inside, she pulled out a package, addressed to Harry. She held it for a moment, then quietly slipped out of her room and to Ron's bedroom. She walked over to Harry's nightstand and sat the package down on top of it. With a sigh, she walked back out of the room.

Returning to her bedroom, she watched the rest of the party from her window, most of her time spent gazing down at Harry. After the party had retired indoors, she watched the sky darken and gazed at the stars well into the night, until her eyes felt heavy and she fell asleep. Moments later, a boy streaked off into the night on his broomstick.

A/N: Again, I wanted to thank everyone who's reviewed so far. I never really thought about it before, but now I can see how much it means to have someone tell you what they think about what you've written. I'm not begging for reviews, but I promise to do my best to respond to any review given. If I haven't, please don't hesitate to email me and let me know the error of my ways. In case it's not conveyed easily, my email is [email protected], if there are any questions you have or want to discuss anything in particular. Also, feel free to share some of your favorite stories; I always enjoy reading fan fiction. -JB