For Your Love

Chapter 4 - Princesses and Dragons

Fairy lights twinkled in the garden and a warm breeze ruffled Ginny's hair as she sat in a comfortable wooden chair watching Ron, Hermione and Mrs. Weasley carry platters and bowls heaped with food to the outdoor table. Harry had been given the task of weaving streamers through the fruit trees, which apparently was not as easy as it sounded as the trees ended up looking rather like large balls of fluff, while Mr. Weasley conjured Japanese lanterns to hover over the table, lighting it with a soft glow.

Ginny smiled and closed her eyes, breathing in the fresh air. She preferred wearing more comfortable Muggle clothes normally, but on nights like this she liked dressing up in the pretty green robe her mother had insisted she have for special occasions.

The air stirred and a deep voice drifted over her shoulder. "Someone told me I could find a princess over here?"

Ginny turned in the chair and laughed. "No princesses here, just me." She leapt up and embraced her oldest brother, Bill, with a warm hug. He was still living in London with his wife, Fleur, working for Gringotts and, more importantly, the Order. But they hadn't seen as much of him around the Burrow this summer as Ginny would have liked.

"Look at you, all grown up," Bill said, standing back and studying her. "Have you been behaving yourself?"

"No, sir," she said with a smirk.

"That's my girl," he grinned and handed her a small gift box.

"Fleur not coming?" Ginny asked hopefully.

"No, she's stuck at work, so it's just me."

"Oh, that's too bad," she said.

"Yes," Bill smirked, "I'm sure you're heartbroken."

Harry, noticing Bill and deciding to give up on the trees, walked over and stood quietly to the side, not wanting to intrude.

"Harry," smiled Bill, holding out his hand.

"Hi, Bill," said Harry, meeting his firm handshake. Bill was always friendly, but Harry was still slightly in awe of him with his rugged clothes and rebellious looks.

"How are you?" Bill asked. "I hear you've got my old room."

"Yeah, thanks, it's great."

"Mum driving you crazy yet?"

Harry laughed. "Not at all."

"Well, give it time. So, what do you think of my sister turning sixteen?" Bill teased, winking at Ginny who rolled her eyes. "You have to watch her every second you know. We take turns."

Ginny listened to their conversation with a curious fascination. Of all her brothers, Bill was the most subtle in his role of protective big brother, perhaps due to their ten-year age difference. But she valued his opinion, and his tactfulness over the years had earned him a leeway that she didn't give to Ron or the twins.

Harry had better sense than to get into the middle of their well-established sibling pecking order. He grinned deferentially. "I think the job of big brother has already been taken. Several times."

"Good answer," laughed Bill, clapping him on the shoulder.

"Thank you," said Ginny, squaring her shoulders and casting a gratified look at Harry.

Two loud cracks nearby signaled the arrival of Fred and George who, upon spying Ginny, began bowing and curtseying, showering hails of "Your servants request an audience with the princess!" and "Oh princess, we bow humbly in your presence!"

"Excuse me, it's time to horsewhip the commoners," said Ginny, brushing past Harry with a sly smile. She walked over to Fred and George, grinning widely. "Sod off and give me my present."

They returned the smile, clearly ready for a sparring match. "Watch it," said Fred, "or we'll turn you into a real princess and lock you in the attic with the ghoul."

She drew herself up and pointed a menacing finger at them. "Try it, and I'll turn you both into toads and feed you to the ghoul."

"She would, too," Bill muttered under his breath, not taking his eyes off the scene. "You know, Harry, no matter how many big brothers she has, Ginny can take care of herself. Always has."

Harry watched her, standing tall and proud, her cheeks flushed with laughter. It was clear that her brothers adored her and only teased her because they knew she gave as good as she got.

Fred and George paused a beat before catching each other's eye, nodding slightly, and then rushed at Ginny, sweeping her off her feet in a two-sided bear hug. She shrieked in laughter and beat them with her fists in vain.

"Boys!" came the shrill cry of their mother. "Put your sister down, it's time to eat."

During dinner, Harry fell into a conversation with Ron and the twins about Quidditch while Bill and Mr. Weasley discussed the business of the Order. Harry tried to catch snatches of their discussion, but the most he could pick up was that they were still trying to determine a pattern for the seemingly random attacks that had happened recently. Other than the fact that all of the victims had been Muggle-borns, there was nothing that clearly tied them to Voldemort or his remaining Death Eaters.

After a delicious birthday cake with orange crème filling, Ginny set to opening her presents. She "oohed" and "aahed" over each gift until only Harry's was left. Reaching for it, she caught his eye and smiled as she tore off the plain brown paper. But her smile faded to open-mouthed surprise when she realized what it was.

"Oh, Harry!" she gasped. "Is this the whole set?"

"Is that Elena Bronwen?" said Hermione, craning her neck to get a better look. "Those are brilliant! Have you read them?"

"Only the first two, but I love them," Ginny exclaimed. "Oh, I can't wait to read them. Thank you!"

Harry's cheeks felt warm as everyone's eyes fell on him. "Well, I heard that you liked them, so..." His voice died away. Ginny and Hermione leaned together to examine the books, but Harry didn't miss the look that passed between Mrs. Weasley and Bill, raised eyebrows and knowing smiles. He suddenly felt very self-conscious; perhaps it was too extravagant of a gesture after all. He was grateful when Mrs. Weasley spoke up and turned the attention away from him.

"Ginny, there's one more. This came by owl for you. It's from Charlie."

She handed a heavy, square box to Ginny, who pulled out a clear crystal ball on a small, carved stone pedestal. Inside the ball, a miniature dragon flapped its wings fiercely against a dark sky while a knight in full armor stood bravely on the ground, brandishing a sword and lashing out at the dragon when he wasn't dodging its fire.

Ginny smiled inwardly as she fingered the smooth surface. She wished Charlie could have been here. They had always shared a special bond that she didn't have with her other brothers. He included a short note which she read as her mother got up and started clearing away plates, and everyone else returned to their own chatter.

Hey there Princess,

I'm sorry I couldn't be there today. I can't believe you're growing up so fast. Pretty soon you won't need us around to slay those dragons for you anymore. Not that you ever did. I wish all the happiness in the world for you today.

Love,

Charlie

Ginny smiled and tucked the letter into her pocket. The party divided into smaller groups, and soon quiet conversations and distant laughter could be heard throughout the yard. When the sky had grown dark, Bill said his goodbyes and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley excused themselves to bed. Hermione conjured a fire and she, Ron, and Harry settled around it, entertained by Fred and George and the descriptions of new products they were working on.

Harry relaxed into his chair, letting the crackling of the fire lull his senses. Hermione and Ron sat to his left and he watched them through half-closed eyes, his closest friends, the people who knew him best in the world. Ron had been his hands and feet, navigating him through the wizarding world and running with him from one adventure to the next; Hermione his eyes and ears, taking in everything that he missed, even thinking for him sometimes. He couldn't imagine a life without them; they were ingrained in his very body. But there was a deeper part of him that was still unclaimed. He felt that there was a hole somewhere, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was or why it should reveal itself to him now.

Perhaps he was missing his parents. They were with him always, in the back of his mind. But maybe now that he had really felt the love of a family, now that he lived and breathed it daily, their loss had become more acute. He stared into the fire, a loneliness washing over him. Instinctively, he turned to look for Ginny. She had not joined them around the fire, and he had a sudden urge to be near her. He scanned the yard and finally found her, sitting at the table in the garden, still lit by the Japanese lanterns overhead.

He rose and made his way through the darkness toward her. Hermione watched him go, her eyes following his retreating back with curiosity.

He found Ginny resting her head in her hand, one elbow propped on the table. She was staring sleepily at the dragon globe, mesmerized by the silent movements inside. Harry watched her for a moment before breaking the silence.

"I had that job once, and let me tell you, it's not easy."

Ginny looked up as Harry sat down beside her. He was watching the knight dancing back and forth in front of the dragon, sword blazing. She smiled and remembered back to the first task of the Triwizard Tournament three years before. He had seemed so small, flying around that horrible dragon's head, dodging its fiery breath. She had been so scared for him that day.

"Oh, you've been a knight in shining armor?" she teased. "Shall I start calling you Sir Harry?"

"No..." he laughed quietly.

"I'm just having you on," she said, and they fell back into quiet contemplation.

"Did you have a good day?" he asked after a while, resting his elbow on the table and turning to face her.

"Mmm," she smiled and nodded. "Your gift was so lovely, Harry, thank you. You didn't have to do that."

"I wanted to. I'm glad you like it."

Ginny laid head on her arm and closed her eyes. "I'm so sleepy," she said. Harry's eyes roamed over her face, so peaceful, her eyelashes fluttering with sleep, her hair slipping down over her shoulder, swaying in the slight breeze. A wistful smile turned up the corners of his mouth. Who was this girl? It was just Ginny, his mind reasoned, fun, headstrong, ordinary Ginny. So why did he feel like part of what he was missing was filled when he was near her?

"Come on, princess, I'll walk you upstairs," he said, putting his hand under her arm.

"Oh Merlin, Harry, please stop calling me that."

Harry let out a short laugh as he pulled her to her feet. They gathered her presents and trudged to the house, waving goodnight to the others as they passed. When they reached her room, he stepped inside briefly to set down his load. Ginny kicked off her shoes and turned down the covers of her bed.

"Night, Gin," Harry said, pausing at the door.

She padded over to him in her bare feet, resting her hand on the doorknob. "Good night," she said, a spark lighting up her drowsy eyes. "Sir Harry."

He smiled at her cheekiness. "Get to bed," he chided and closed the door with a soft click. A short time later, his head hit his own pillow and he drifted off into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

* * *

It was a sunny afternoon two days later and the Burrow was quiet. A warm light streamed through the window and onto Ginny, who sat on the couch in the living room, absorbed in her new Elena Bronwen book. The only sound to be heard was the ticking of the grandfather clock which showed Ron and Harry as "traveling". Suddenly, a movement out the window caught her eye. Hermione had appeared out of thin air in the yard. Ginny closed her book and ran outside, grinning.

"You passed!" she said, jumping up excitedly. The boys and Hermione had been at the Apparition Testing Center all morning.

"Yes," Hermione smiled, "it really wasn't that bad. But watch out, Harry's coming next."

A second later, Ginny heard a pop behind her and turned to see Harry wearing a very pleased grin. "Brilliant!" she smiled. "You did it!"

Harry walked over to her. "At least I didn't splinch myself getting back here. I was afraid I'd end up in a tree," he said with relief.

"What about Ron?" Ginny asked. Harry and Hermione exchanged a glance. "Oh no," she breathed, "he didn't..."

"No, he passed," said Harry. "He should be along any mo-" But he didn't finish his thought because at that moment, Ron landed squarely in front of Harry, knocking both him and Ginny backward onto the ground and falling unceremoniously on top of them in a heap.

"Bugger all," Ron mumbled, trying to extricate himself from the tangle of arms and legs. "Sorry."

"Congratulations, Ron," said Ginny sarcastically, pushing him off of her. "You win for best entrance."

"Alright, Ron?" Harry asked, helping him to his feet.

"Don't help or anything, Hermione," Ron said, brushing himself off and eyeing Hermione exasperatedly as she stood watching the scene.

"Oh, now you want my help," she replied, marching across the yard to the house.

"Uh oh," Ginny said under her breath.

The three of them followed Hermione into the house and found her in the living room, arms crossed and a fuming look on her face. Ginny raised her eyebrows at Harry, who closed his eyes and shook his head, resigning himself to the argument that was about to ensue.

"First you try to look over my shoulder during the written exam," Hermione said acidly, advancing toward Ron. "I told you I would help you revise for it yesterday, but no, you were 'all prepared' you said."

"How was I supposed to know they were going to ask what the procedure was for Apparating to foreign locations?" Ron shot back.

"Because it was in the test booklet!" she argued. She turned to address Ginny, who unconsciously moved closer to Harry, her eyes widening.

"For the practical test, they took us alphabetically, so I went first," Hermione explained. "Then Harry went. The first time, he ended up in the hallway and we had to let him back in. But the second time he got it alright. Then Ron..." She turned back to Ron, seeming to just remember that he was standing in front of her. "I tried to help you. I told you just to picture the Apparition point in your mind."

"Well, who can concentrate with you shouting directions the whole time! I can do some things on my own, you know, despite what you think."

"Oh yes, you were doing a bang up job." She turned to Ginny again. "Finally, the tester told Harry and me to wait outside. And then it still took half an hour before they would pass him. We went and ate lunch without him. It isn't my fault he couldn't keep his mind on something long enough to get from one side of a room to the other."

"And it isn't my fault that you think that anyone who can't do things as well as you isn't worthy to scrape the bottom of your cauldron," Ron said scathingly.

Hermione's eyes narrowed dangerously and her voice shook. "You know that's not true."

"Isn't it? Face it, Hermione, you can't stand the thought of anyone being as good as you because that would mean they didn't need you around showing them how to do everything."

Harry had listened long enough. He moved to step between them. "Ron..." he began.

"Don't bother, Harry. I'm through with this conversation," Hermione spat. She ran past them and up the stairs, followed by the distant sound of a door slamming.

"Sometimes, Harry, I just want to..." Ron squeezed his fists tight and made a throttling motion in the air. He turned and strode through the kitchen, slamming the back door.

"Wow," said Ginny, finding her voice.

"Yeah," Harry echoed.

"Was he really that bad?" Ginny asked. "I haven't seen them fight like that for ages."

Harry shrugged in bewilderment. "I didn't think so. Lots of people don't pass on their first try. But Hermione can never keep her mouth shut if she thinks that someone isn't trying their best." Harry wandered over to the window and watched Ron outside, flinging gnomes over the garden wall.

"Those gnomes sure get a workout, don't they," he said absently. "I don't know why everyone is worried about me dying. Those two will kill each other way before Voldemort finds me."

Ginny gasped in horror, and Harry realized that he hadn't meant to say that out loud.

"That is not funny," she said sharply.

"Sorry."

Ginny moved to stand beside him at the window, trying to shake the unwanted image of a dead Harry from her mind. She watched the gnomes soar through the air.

"I really thought they'd worked it out this time," she said with a sadness in her voice.

"Who?" Harry asked, his eyes resting on her pensive face.

"Ron and Hermione. They've been owling each other all summer. He was so excited for her to come. I thought maybe they would..."

"What do you mean 'all summer'? We always owl each other over breaks." Harry, Ron and Hermione had never lagged in their correspondence when they were away from each other. Though now that Harry thought about it, he had only received two owls from Hermione this summer, and she had owled Ron with the news of her becoming Head Girl and not him.

Ginny turned to look at him. "No, I mean steadily. Ron's been sending Pig with letters to her at least twice a week since term ended, and he always comes back with a reply. I've never seen Ron so happy as when he got her letters."

Harry's eyebrows furrowed. "Really? But why?"

Ginny looked at him with a mixture of marvel and pity. Boys really were dense sometimes, though she supposed Harry had better excuses than most of why he had not noticed the recent shift in his friends' behavior.

"Harry, last year was really hard on them. It hurt so much for us to watch you going through all that you did, pushing us away. All of us," she added with emphasis. "You probably didn't notice, but they became a lot closer last year. They really leaned on each other. They didn't want to let you down, they were worried about you. You were off on your own a lot of the time and they had to learn how to get on as friends without you there to act as a go-between."

Harry felt very thick. Had he really been so blinded by his own problems that he had failed to see what was brewing under his nose? "So, if they're getting along so well, why the big fight today?"

"I don't know." Ginny shook her head.

"Do you think I should talk to them?" A familiar weight of guilt settled on Harry. His friends had always been there for him; he should have sensed that something was up.

"No, they need to work this out on their own," Ginny said. Then, sensing his uneasiness, she added, "This isn't about you, Harry, it's about them."

Harry nodded and turned back to the window. "Anyway, they'll be fine, right? They always bounce back after a fight."

"I'm sure they will," she agreed. They stood in silence until a smirk lit up Ginny's face. "You ended up in the hallway?"

Harry smiled. "What, I was nervous."

Her shoulders shook with quiet laughter as she elbowed him in the side. He crossed his arms over his chest.

"Sod off," he chuckled, which made her laugh even harder.

* * *

It was late afternoon when Ron finally came inside. After degnoming the garden, he had taken a walk up to the paddock to clear his head and think. Why was it that they always resorted to shouting matches? They had gotten under each other's skin from the beginning, but things were different now. In the past few months, they had not only been civil to each other, they had been really, truly friends. Just the two of them, apart from Harry.

Adrift and on eggshells around Harry for much of the year, Ron had found a comfort and stability in Hermione's routine and her unswerving loyalty. She had brought him down from the brink of hysteria over homework and Quidditch and speculation about the war several times. In turn, he had given her a shoulder to cry on, and laugh on, when things got to be too overwhelming. He played chess with her and made sure she didn't stay up working too late. And when the world pressed in too closely on them and they did lash out at each other, it was brief and quickly forgiven.

Their frequent exchange of letters over the summer had only fueled the feelings that Ron had squashed down time and time again out of embarrassment, or denial, or both. But now she was here, and he wasn't going to let his stupidity get in the way of what they could have together. He was going to have to make the first move, which was a terrifying thought. But he reckoned that he should just be a man and do it and hope she didn't throw him out on his arse.

He entered the kitchen quietly, grabbing a chocolate biscuit from the jar on the counter and downing it in lieu of his missed lunch. A glance into the living room revealed Harry and Ginny playing a game of Exploding Snap, but Hermione was nowhere to be found. He stole up the stairs and knocked softly on Percy's door.

"Hermione? It's me. Can I come in?" He heard nothing, but he didn't know where else could she be. "Hermione, are you in there? Listen, we need to talk." Still nothing. He felt his blood rising again. She was not going to ignore him. Not this time. "Alright, I'm coming in. I mean it." He placed his hand on the doorknob.

"Ron?"

Ron started and spun around to the voice coming from the landing above. Hermione had just stepped out of the bathroom, her face still showing traces of the blotches she had tried to wash away.

"What are you doing?" she asked.

A flush crept across Ron's face. This was not going like he had planned. He clenched his fists and marched up the stairs, grabbing her hand. "Come on. My room. We're going to talk."

She wrenched her hand from his grip and stood on the stairs, her look of confusion replaced by a steely glare. "Don't order me around."

He closed his eyes and drew a steadying breath. "Please," he said.

Her glare softened and she nodded, sweeping up the stairs past him to the top of the house. Ron followed, and when he closed the door to his room, she turned to face him, her arms crossed over her chest.

"I don't want to fight, Ron."

"I don't want to fight either. I was trying to find you so I could apologize," he said tightly. "I was embarrassed and I took it out on you. I'm sorry."

"You don't look very sorry."

Ron leaned against the closed door and hung his head, running his hands over his face and through his hair, letting them rest on the back of his neck. "You have no idea how sorry I am," he groaned.

"Those were some nasty things you said down there. I really was just trying to help at the Ministry today. I could see that you were having trouble, and trying to Apparate when you're agitated only makes it harder. I just thought..."

Ron closed the distance between them and took her hands in his, his face now full of contrition. "I know. I'm sorry."

She looked into his eyes and saw that he really meant it. Her anger slowly dissolved. "Why do we have to be so nasty with each other? Why can't we work out our problems like normal people? We were doing so well last term and now..." Her voice faltered and she dropped her eyes.

Ron lifted her chin. "We are doing so well. I meant what I said in my letters. I still think we could be good together."

Hermione remembered the letter in which he had broached the subject of them being together as a couple rather than just friends. At the time, she had been surprised that he had even brought it up. It showed how comfortable they had become with each other. In her heart, she wasn't sure that the progress they had made with their friendship would so easily carry over into a romantic relationship, but she couldn't help but be curious. What would it be like? Separated from him, with only his words on parchment to connect them over the past two months, she had seen a more thoughtful, more tender Ron than she had thought possible. But now it was clear to her that she had romanticized the situation, because she had only been at the Burrow for two days before they had degenerated into the bickering, quick-tempered people they had always been with each other.

"How can you say that?" she said, full of doubt. "Writing romantic letters is one thing, but to actually be involved... I mean, look at us; we can't get through two days without hurting each other. I think we need more time."

"Six years isn't enough time for you?" He drew her closer with one hand and brushed her messy curls behind her ear with the other, his fingers coming to rest on her cheek.

"Well, it hasn't been six years of this," she whispered, letting her eyes fall closed and leaning into his hand. "Maybe we only do well when we're not face to face." She opened her eyes with a regretful smile. "That's depressing, isn't it."

"That's not true," said Ron, "It's been months since we had a fight like that one today."

"Do you really think that about me, that I think I'm better than everyone else?"

"No, no, of course I don't. You know how I get when I'm angry, I say things I don't mean."

"I just don't know, Ron," she said desperately. "Half of me wants to believe that we could make this work, and the other half feels like we're just asking for disaster."

Ron very much wanted to reassure her, to wipe the doubt from her eyes. He leaned in close to her temple and whispered, "We can do this, I know we can. I can't just be friends with you anymore, I can't stand being close to you like this and not being able to kiss you."

She could feel his warm breath on her face, clouding her reason. "But what if..."

"Hermione," he breathed, "for once in your life would you stop talking and just..."

His lips found hers and he realized with a sweet satisfaction that they were exactly as he had imagined them. He moved his hand around to the back of her neck, pressing her closer, his thumb running over her jaw line below her ear.

Finally, she relaxed into him, letting her hands slip down over his chest and around to his back. But even though he had silenced her lips, her mind was still racing. So, this was what it was like to let him invade all of her senses and thoughts, this boy who had been at her left hand with Harry on her right for so long, who she had fought with and cried with and laughed with. Was she really doing this? His lips felt dry and he tasted of chocolate. That seemed about right, Hermione thought. Rough around the edges and full of bitter sweetness.

* * *

Harry stopped into his room to put on a sweatshirt before dinner. Hermione's door had still been closed when he passed it. It wasn't like her to sulk for such a long time, but as Ginny had said, this was between her and Ron. He didn't want to get in the middle of it.

He heard the springs of Ron's bed squeak above him and decided he might as well go up and tell him to come down and eat. Eating always made Ron feel better.

Harry climbed the stairs to Ron's room. He opened the door without a thought, but stopped abruptly at the sight in front of him. Ron and Hermione were sitting on the bed locked in a deep kiss, oblivious to the world.

"Aagghh!" Harry yelled in shock. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought he'd imagined the scene, because they broke apart so fast they might as well have Apparated to opposite sides of the room. Harry stared from one to the other. Of the three of them, he couldn't tell who was blushing more furiously. Regaining his voice, he held up his hand in apology and said, "I'm sorry." They continued to stare at him, lost for words, so he quickly stepped back out onto the landing and closed the door. Hearing footsteps coming up the stairs, he hurried down to head off whoever it was. It was Ginny.

"Mum said to come up and get you lot for dinner."

"You can't go up there," Harry said, catching her.

"Why not?" she frowned, looking at his hand on her arm. He glanced up the stairs before dragging Ginny to the landing below and into his bedroom, closing the door.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Ron and Hermione are up there."

"So?"

"So, they're..." Harry waved his arms around helplessly, "doing stuff... together."

"Oh no," Ginny sighed, "are they fighting again?"

"No... not fighting..." Harry lifted his eyebrows, trying to convey his meaning.

Ginny looked at him with a blank stare. Then her whole face lit up in understanding. She covered her mouth. "Oh! Are you sure? How do you know?"

"I walked in on them." Harry screwed his eyes shut and tried to block out the mental picture.

Ginny was beside herself with delight. "How bad was it? Were they just kissing, or were they..."

Harry's eyes flew open. "Just kissing!" He shook his head and began pacing in front of Ginny. "First I find out they're writing letters all summer, and now... Of course, I knew he liked her, he's always liked her even if he was too stupid to admit it. But...I mean they're..."

Ginny chuckled at his indignation. "Oh, poor Harry," she said in mock seriousness. "Your two best friends are finally snogging and here you are, don't know what to do with yourself."

He stopped and folded his arms. "Go ahead and have a good laugh why don't you."

"Okay." She gave in and dissolved into a fit of giggles. Harry rolled his eyes and waited for her to finish. After a minute, Ginny regained her composure and strode purposefully toward the door.

"Where are you going?" Harry frowned.

"To call them for dinner," she said deliberately.

"No!" Harry stepped in front of her.

Ginny stood with her hands on her hips. "I supposed you'd like to be the one to tell mum why they're not coming down then?" Harry scowled before stepping aside.

Ginny tiptoed up the stairs to Ron's door, listening for a moment. Then she raised her fist and banged loudly on the door, yelling, "Ron! Dinner!" She dashed back down to Harry's side on the landing and they stood, waiting.

The door opened and Hermione stepped out, smoothing her hair. She came down the stairs and caught Ginny's smiling face and raised eyebrows. She paused to give Ginny a small smile, but it faded as she turned to Harry, caught short by an unreadable expression in his eyes, before she continued down the stairs to the kitchen. They followed her down and seated themselves at the table. After a moment, Ron came down as well and slipped into the seat next to Hermione. He cleared his throat nervously and glanced across the table at Harry, who was eyeing him with raised eyebrows.

"Well," said Ginny, suppressing a smile and looking between the three of them. "This should be interesting."