For Your Love

Chapter 7 - The Real Me

"Mum!"

Ginny slammed the cupboard door and opened another, rummaging through jars of pickled herring and canned vegetables.

"Where is that blasted potion?" she muttered to herself. "If she forgot to go to the chemist I swear I'll... MUM!"

Harry and Ron had just finished lunch when Ginny stormed down from her room; they watched her tirade with a mixture of amusement and trepidation. Ron leaned over to Harry and whispered, "Must be that time of the..."

Ginny rounded on him, shooting him a murderous glare. "Don't say it. Don't you dare," she seethed.

Ron considered for a moment before a mischievous grin spread across his face. "Month," he said.

Harry pressed his lips together to keep from laughing. Ginny's mood over the past day or two had grown steadily more sour, making Harry wonder if he had done something to upset her. It had never occurred to him that it might be because she was... well...

Ginny's face flushed red, and her eyes darted to Harry, then back to Ron. She clenched her fists.

"Ah, ah, Gin, no magic out of school," Ron taunted, waving his finger at her.

"Oh yeah? Magic this," she said as she came up behind his chair and put him in a full headlock.

"Hey!" Ron bellowed, "Geroff!"

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley reached the kitchen in time to see her children locked in a mass of flailing arms and flying red hair. "Let go of him! Why are you yelling?"

"I can't find my potion; I thought you were going to get some more!"

"I did get it, it's right here." Mrs. Weasley bustled over to a shopping bag on the counter and pulled out a box of small, glass vials filled with green liquid.

"Finally," Ginny breathed and made to grab the box. But her mother put a hand out and stopped her. Ginny looked up at her mother's raised eyebrows. "Sorry," she mumbled. "Thanks."

"Alright," Mrs. Weasley nodded and gave her the box. When Ginny disappeared up the stairs, she turned and began unloading the rest of the shopping bag, tutting, "That girl... I don't know... be the death of me yet..."

Harry was still wide-eyed with shock. He had seen Ginny determined, fired up, even brazen, but never quite so...

"Is she always like that?"

"Only if she doesn't take that potion," Ron chuckled. "But blimey, when she doesn't, I can really get her going." He picked up his wand and banished his plate and cup to the sink, narrowly missing his mother's head in the process.

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley warned, plucking the dishes out of the air and setting them down gently on the counter. "Well, she's got her potion now, and she'll be right as rain in a bit. You two just steer clear until then." She arched an eyebrow and pointed a finger at each of them in turn before leaving the room.

Just then a brown barn owl swooped into the kitchen through the open window and landed on the table, bearing three letters addressed to Ron, Harry, and Ginny, each with a Hogwarts seal. Ron tore open his letter.

"Book lists." Ron perused his list and then looked over Harry's. "I still can't believe you're taking Advanced Potions. Even if I had scraped a high enough mark on my OWL, I'm not sure I would have signed up for another two years with that wanker."

Harry snorted. "Yeah, but I didn't have much choice, did I? McGonagall said I had to have Potions if I wanted to train for Auror. Anyway, this is the last year and then I'll be free of Snape forever." Harry closed his eyes and groaned, "I can hardly wait." He turned to look at Ron. "So, any idea what you want to do next year?"

With Ron out of Advanced Potions, it was unlikely that he would be admitted into Auror training, though not impossible. He had chosen instead to take History of Magic, mainly because Hermione was taking it as well, and he knew he could at least count on her help even if he slept through most of the lessons.

"I dunno, probably go work at the Ministry somewhere. I was thinking the Department of Magical Games and Sports might be interesting. Could get in good with the Quidditch League, yeah?"

Harry nodded. He thought if there was actually a job that could make use of Ron's obsession with Quidditch, it wasn't such a bad idea. At times, Harry dreamed of what it might be like to play Quidditch professionally. He was a good Seeker, one of the best if he allowed himself to admit it, but he knew that his future lay down a different path. It was not a path of his own choosing, but the course that had been laid out for him nonetheless.

His eyes glazed over as he remembered the weight of the prophecy on his shoulders. During the past year, Dumbledore had kept him informed of the Order of the Phoenix's actions and progress. He had asked to be more directly involved, itching to do something to avenge Sirius' death. But Dumbledore had felt that there was little he could do while still at school and assured him that the Order would support and defend him if and when the time came. Instead, he encouraged Harry to continue training his fellow students and recruiting as many allies as possible toward their cause.

He had told Ron and Hermione, and eventually Ginny, about the prophecy. They had been shocked and anxious, but swore their allegiance to him unconditionally. It was some relief to him that they knew, but the burden of being the one destined to kill or be killed still weighed heavily on him.

He had almost been able to forget about it all since he'd been at the Burrow. How simple it seemed, in the hazy summer days, just to be a normal teenager surrounded by friends and family.

If you can call having your picture plastered in the paper and being recognized by total strangers "normal", he thought.

A tension began to settle in his neck and shoulders as he looked over the supplies he would need for his final year. Only ten more days and then it was back... back to real life. He was looking forward to seeing his housemates again, to eating in the Great Hall and captaining his Quidditch team. But right now, it was just peaceful here...

"I'm going to owl Hermione and see when she can come to Diagon Alley," said Ron, breaking into Harry's thoughts as he disappeared up the stairs.

Harry sighed and rolled up his book list. He spied Ginny's envelope still on the table and after a moment's hesitation, grabbed it and turned toward the stairs.

* * *

Ginny lay on her bed, breathing deeply the warm air that was drifting in her window. The pain in her abdomen had already subsided, and she was feeling considerably better. Better, that is, except for the fact that she had made a complete fool out of herself in front of Harry. She knew better than to let Ron push her buttons before she took her potion on a day like this.

Well, she thought, he wanted to get to know me. So, here I am, warts and all. It couldn't get any more embarrassing than that.

She took some comfort in this thought as she reached to her bookshelf and pulled out the next Elena Bronwen book, A Portal to the Edge. A quiet afternoon of reading would be just the thing today. She snuggled down into her pillow and opened the book. Unfortunately, someone seemed to have a different idea because there came a soft but persistent knocking on her door.

"What?" she grumbled impatiently.

Harry peeked his head around the door. "Hey, how are you feeling?"

Ginny instantly regretted her gruffness and a flush crept up her face. "Fine, why?"

"Well, I just... before..."

She saw him eyeing the empty vial on her desk. "Oh. No, I took the potion; I'm fine."

"Can I come in?"

"Sure," she exhaled. She sat up and put her finger in the book to hold her place. "Come to see if I'm still being mental?"

Harry smiled. "No, though that was pretty impressive. Just came to bring you this." He held out the envelope.

"What's this?"

"Book lists. Just came."

Ginny opened the envelope as Harry pulled her desk chair over to the bed and turned it around so he could straddle it. He was restless and looked around the room for something to do. He picked up one of the green vials from the open box on the bookshelf and read the label. Menstrus Pain Reliever Potion, now with added Mood Enhancer! Ginny reached out and took it from him, giving him an even look and replacing it in the box.

"Ron said he can really get you going when you haven't taken that potion."

"Did he?" she replied coolly, looking over her list.

"I've never seen you like that before."

"Well, now you have."

"So, there's something else I know about you," he smirked.

She looked up from the parchment and cocked an eyebrow. "More than you bargained for, I'm sure."

He chuckled and rested his chin on the back of the chair. "Hermione doesn't get like that," he said thoughtfully.

"Do you think all girls are the same then?" she asked, amused.

He smiled and lowered his eyes. "I think that what I know about girls could fit inside a Snitch and still have room left over."

Ginny giggled. "I can't argue with that." She smiled for a moment before adding, "Hermione gets sulky."

Harry frowned. "How can you tell the difference between that and her regular sulking?"

Ginny rolled her eyes and reached out to swat him on the arm. "Been best friends with the girl for six years and you don't even know when she's on the rag," she mumbled.

Harry looked baffled. "Is that something guys are supposed to know?"

Ginny smiled at him sweetly. "Only the smart ones."

"Oh, that's nice," he said sarcastically. Changing the subject, he asked, "So, what did you decide to take for NEWTs?"

"Same as you, I think."

"Really? Even Potions?"

Ginny looked up from her list and smiled. "Yes, even Potions. I got an E on my OWL. Potions is an important subject. I'm not going to let some git of a professor stop me from learning what I can. Besides, he's not nearly so awful to my class as he is to yours. Even if I am a Weasley."

"I can't even imagine hearing the words 'Snape' and 'not so awful' in the same sentence," Harry muttered. Ginny gave a short laugh. "So," Harry continued, "do you want to be an Auror? That's the course I'm taking."

Ginny wrinkled her nose and shook her head. "No. Fighting the forces of evil alongside you is one thing, but I don't think I'd like doing it on a daily basis."

Harry stared at her. Suddenly, their easy conversation took an abrupt turn and something flared inside him.

"And you think I would? You think I'll enjoy having to chase down those pieces of filth for the rest of my life?" It was all well and good for her to choose whatever path she liked. Didn't she know that he didn't have a choice?

Ginny started at his sudden change of tone. She furrowed her brow and met his eyes. "No, I don't think you'll enjoy it. But Harry, you would never be content to sit on the sidelines while someone else took up the fight against Vol-" she stopped and took a deep breath, "Voldemort. I know that."

She was taken aback by the way his face had suddenly lost all of its humor, and her own face creased with concern. She laid aside the parchment and sat up on the edge of the bed, facing him. "But just because the rest of us aren't Aurors doesn't mean we wouldn't fight right beside you again if you needed us. You know we would. But that's not our calling," she said softly, "it's yours."

His eyes softened as he held her gaze. "Sometimes, I wish it wasn't."

Ginny reached up to slide her fingers through his hair. "I know," she whispered.

He let his eyes fall closed and rested his head on his arm, letting her touch soothe the tenseness in his neck. He wasn't sure why he had come up to Ginny's room in the first place, but now he knew. It was for this... this comfort of someone who knew him, who could share this burden.

"Have you heard from Dumbledore this summer?" she asked, letting her hand drop.

Harry shook his head and stood up, pacing the room. "I talked to your dad a bit last night, but he said they aren't any closer to finding a pattern to the attacks. I can't stand all this waiting around." Ginny watched him walking in circles, clenching his hands in his already messy hair. "How can we fight against something so random? Sometimes I wish that something big would happen, just so we would know what Voldemort is planning. And then I feel guilty for wishing that, because it will probably mean a lot of dead Muggle-borns and half-bloods."

"Has your scar hurt at all?"

"Little twinges now and then, but nothing like before. It's like he's just doing this for sport, killing people here and there, waiting until his next big plan is ready. I discussed that possibility with Dumbledore last year when he took over my Occlumency lessons. He thought that maybe I was blocking my mind well enough that I wasn't feeling Voldemort as strongly anymore. But I don't think that's it. I just get this feeling that he's waiting..." He stopped and gave a bitter laugh. "Or maybe he's just trying to drive me insane."

Ginny sat quietly and listened. She hadn't heard Harry talk like this since he came to the Burrow, and she wanted him to get it all out. He came over and sat next to her on the bed, resting his head in his hands.

"Sorry, I probably shouldn't even be telling you this," he said.

"Why?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know how much Dumbledore wants me to share. Besides, this is my stuff to deal with; I don't want to drag you into it."

"Harry, look at me." Harry looked up and saw a fierce determination in Ginny's eyes. She reached out and took his hand. "We are not going to let you go through this alone. Not me, or Ron, or Hermione, or anyone else who calls themselves your friend. This war affects all of us. We were there with you when it started and we will never leave you. So go ahead and drag us into it. Wild hippogriffs couldn't keep us away."

Harry held her eyes for a moment and then, on impulse, reached out and drew her into a tight hug. He buried his face in her hair and whispered, "You don't know how good it feels to hear you say that... just to have someone who understands. If I ever lost any of you I..."

"Don't say that," she whispered, tightening her grip. "We're not going anywhere."

They held each other for a few seconds more until the awkwardness of their position set in and they became painfully aware of how close their bodies were. Harry pulled away with a slightly embarrassed flush in his cheeks, and Ginny avoided his eyes as she struggled to keep her pulse under control.

He moved away from her and stood up, clearing his throat. He was torn between leaving and finding an excuse to stay.

"Well, thanks for talking," he said with a nervous smile.

She nodded. "Thanks for bringing me my letter."

He paused, then took a deep breath and said, "Right."

When the door shut behind him, Ginny groaned and fell back onto her bed.

* * *

"Harry! Are you ready?"

Mrs. Weasley stood at the foot of the stairs, checking her large shoulder bag to make sure she had everything for their day in Diagon Alley. Ron and Ginny were already waiting by the fireplace.

Harry came down the stairs, his money bag jingling in his hands, and looked cautiously around at the Weasleys.

"Oh good," said Mrs. Weasley. "Let's be off, we have a full day ahead."

But Harry paused, his mouth working silently before he stammered out, "I don't think I'm going to go with you today. If... if that's alright," he added, noting Mrs. Weasley's surprise.

"What do you mean you're not going?" asked Ron.

"I was just in Diagon Alley a couple weeks ago, and I was thinking it might be nice just to spend the day by myself. And, you know, I'd rather not be..." He looked down at the bag in his hands.

"What is it, Harry?" asked Mrs. Weasley in a gentle voice.

He took a deep breath. "I'm afraid that people will recognize me, like that bloke in Flourish and Blotts last time. And there may be reporters lurking about; they'll know that all the students will be out buying their school supplies this week. What Dumbledore said about the Press... I just don't want to deal with it today, I guess." He avoided Ron's and Ginny's eyes, feeling utterly foolish.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out his Hogwarts book list. "I have enough money for my books and things from when I went to Gringotts before. Would you mind buying them for me? If it's not too much trouble..." He held out the list and his money bag to Mrs. Weasley, who took them with a kindly smile.

"Of course I will, dear. I think that's a wise decision. No use giving them an excuse to splash your picture around the paper again. You just have a nice day to yourself." She patted his shoulder and turned toward the fireplace.

Ron wore a disappointed frown. "Alright, I guess so," he said begrudgingly. "I'll give you a full report on anything new at Quality Quidditch when we get back. Oh, and don't start that essay for Flitwick until later, I want to work on it together."

Harry nodded. "Ok. Sorry..."

Ron waved him away and reached for the Floo powder. "That's ok, more Florean Fortescue's for me," he smiled. Harry chuckled.

Ginny, who had been contemplating Harry silently, caught his eye and smiled. It was a sympathetic smile and suddenly, he didn't feel so foolish. She raised her hand in a small wave and he smiled in return before she turned and stepped into the green flames.

Harry stood in the quiet house, listening to the whir of the grandfather clock as the hands moved from "Home" to "Traveling". He breathed in the silence, broken only by the creaking of pipes and the faint clunking of Gerald's chains high above.

He turned and raced up to his room, grabbed his Firebolt from the corner, and climbed onto the narrow windowsill. The trees beckoned him with their leaves swaying in the soft breeze. He straddled his broom and leaned forward, allowing himself to freefall for a second before pulling up and zooming off over the paddock.

Several hours later, Harry had finished a late lunch and was carrying his broom back upstairs when he paused outside Ginny's room. Her door was open, the curtains fluttering at the window. He leaned against the doorjamb, wondering what secrets she had hidden in there, because everyone hid secrets in their bedroom, didn't they? She hadn't included her room on the tour of the Burrow, and a curiosity rose in him. Not that he would go poking about in drawers or under her bed, because that would just be wrong. He just wanted to look, to glimpse into her inner sanctuary.

He stepped onto the braided rug in the middle of the room. It was an ordinary room, small and cozy, and its scent reminded him of Ginny. His eyes traveled to her desk, where he imagined her scribbling an owl post. Who would she be writing to? Hermione, perhaps, or one of her dormmates. He didn't really know how close she was to any of the others in her year.

His gaze traveled to her bed tucked along the far wall, where they had sat together just a week before. The awkwardness of the hug they had shared seemed silly now, but he reminded himself that he would do well not to get too comfortable with Ginny. He was pleased with how their friendship had grown over the past few weeks, and was surprised at how close he felt to her. But if he wanted to remain friends, he had to be careful not to let... other things... get in the way.

He wandered over to her dresser where a few stray hair bands lay next to a carved wooden box. On the lid was a faded picture of a man and woman, dressed in ornate robes, dancing an intricate minuet. The woman paused to wink at Harry before returning to her gentleman. His hand reached out to touch the box when a voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

"She's quite right you know. You are adorable in a scruffy sort of way."

Harry started and whipped his head around, sure he had been caught. But by whom? There was no one there.

"Although you look like you might clean up nicely."

Harry turned back around and realized with relief that it was only the mirror over the dresser which had spoken. Glancing at his disheveled reflection, he ran a hand through is windblown hair and hastily tucked in his t-shirt, sweaty from his morning of flying.

"It will take more than that, I'm afraid," the mirror sighed.

Harry grimaced at his image and backed away, turning his attention to the bookshelf across the room. He clasped his hands behind his back, resisting the temptation to touch anything, and leaned in to look at the books, figurines, and much-loved stuffed animals.

A movement caught the corner of his eye. He looked to see a photograph propped at the end of the middle shelf. It was a picture of the Gryffindor fifth years. Well, sixth years now, he supposed, as he picked it up to get a closer look, forgetting his resolve not to touch anything. He didn't know all of their names, but recognized Sean Jacobs, who had played Chaser with Ginny and Katie for Gryffindor during the past year.

He smiled at the image of Ginny, who was smiling back and waving at him. And... who was that sneaking in the side? Oh yes, Colin. He must have taken the picture. Harry smirked. He knew Colin, of course, and Colin wasn't likely to let him forget it. But if he was honest, he had to admit that Colin was an alright sort of bloke. A bit overenthusiastic maybe, but a decent guy. He wasn't nearly so annoying now as when he first came to Hogwarts. Ginny got on well with him; he had seen them often together, revising or chatting in the common room.

He turned the picture over and was momentarily confused by the words he saw there.

Happy Birthday, Ginny! Love, Colin

Love, Colin? Colin Creevey? He didn't recall her opening a gift from Colin at her party; she must have gotten it separately. He frowned and looked back at the front, noticing for the first time that when Colin's head popped into the frame, Ginny laughed and leaned her head toward him a bit. He felt suddenly self-conscious, like he had invaded her privacy, and replaced the photo on the shelf. He shook his head and berated himself for the feelings of jealousy that he couldn't account for.

Hermione always signs her letters "Love from Hermione," he reasoned. It doesn't mean anything. Just that they're friends.

He took one more glance around before hastily grabbing his broom and heading up to his room.

After a warm shower, he dug out his Charms text and looked over the essay they were to hand in to Professor Flitwick at the first class of the new term. He knew that Ron wanted to work on it together, but figured that he might as well read up on "Deciphering the 12 Uses of Dragon's Blood." That way, at least one of them would be familiar with the material. Not that he would probably ever have a reason to use real dragon's blood, rare and expensive as it was.

He was halfway through the chapter when he heard a clattering downstairs. He set aside his book and descended the stairs to see Ginny and Mrs. Weasley brushing themselves off, having just emerged from the Floo.

"Hello, Harry," Mrs. Weasley smiled. "Did you have a nice day?"

"Yes, thanks."

She lifted the bulging canvas bag at her feet, charmed to be light as a feather, and carried it over to the stairs. "I've got everything you need here... books, parchment, quills. Oh, and," she lowered her voice, "I picked up some other things I thought you might need as well." She opened the bag to reveal packages of underpants and socks.

Harry blushed and grinned. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley."

She smiled and patted him on the back. "Well, I'll just send these up to your room and then I'll whip up something for tea. Oh, I almost forgot..." she rummaged in her cloak and pulled out Harry's money bag, handing it back to him. It was considerably lighter.

She bustled up the stairs as Harry continued down and joined Ginny on the couch. She had taken off her shoes and was rubbing her feet.

"How was Diagon Alley?"

"Oh, Harry, you should have come! Everyone was there; we saw Seamus and Dean, and Neville's Gran let him come shopping by himself this year. He was so sorry he missed you."

"Where's Ron?"

"He stayed to have dinner with Hermione."

Harry looked disappointed. "Hermione was there, too?"

"Of course, we told her to meet us there. She wished you were there too, but she said it was probably best that you stayed here. We did see a few photographers prowling around Flourish and Blotts. Hermione reckoned they were waiting to see if you would show up. They tried to ask us if we'd seen you, but she spoke right up and said you weren't with us today and that she didn't know where you were. You should make her your personal spokeswoman, she handled those photographers like nobody's business."

"Can't believe I missed everyone," he grumbled. "But I suppose it was worth not having to dodge reporters all day." Harry rubbed the back of his neck.

He's tired, Ginny thought.

He leaned back on the sofa and closed his eyes. Ginny stole glances at him until Mrs. Weasley called, "Time for tea," and they followed each other into the kitchen.

* * *

The end of the summer holidays had finally come, and Harry, Ron, and Ginny were enjoying their last day of freedom. They played Quidditch in the paddock and talked about Harry's strategy for the upcoming year, they raced their brooms daringly over the tops of the trees, and now they were sitting under the large oak tree just past the field of flowers.

Ron lay on his back, chattering about the upcoming year. "I can't wait to get on the train tomorrow. It will be great to be back at Hogwarts, won't it? Hasn't the summer seemed longer this year?"

Harry and Ginny caught each other's eye and grinned. They knew exactly why Ron was anxious for school to start, and it had nothing to do with school.

"I think I'll go and start packing," Ron said, standing up and brushing himself off. "You two coming?"

"Mmm, not yet," said Ginny, "it's too nice of a day."

"We'll be along soon," said Harry.

They missed the knowing look that Ron passed between them as he mounted his broom. "Alright, see you."

They sat in companionable silence for a while before Ginny shifted and looked up at the tree.

"Race you to the top?"

"Of that?" Harry said, looking up and shielding his eyes. "You're on."

"I have to warn you, I learned to climb on this tree. None of the boys has beaten me to the top since I was ten."

"Records are made to be broken."

They stood and positioned themselves on either side of the massive trunk, grasping at the low branches.

"Ready, set, go."

Harry's long arms reached past Ginny, but her speed and familiarity with the tree allowed her to reach the top easily and she waited for Harry, who hauled himself up to meet her at last. They sat there, swaying gently, looking out over the landscape.

"I can't believe we're going back tomorrow," Ginny said wistfully.

"I know. But I'm ready to go. Aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. But... but I like being here, too. I like being here with you." She leaned her head against a thick limb and smiled softly.

"I like being here with you, too," he smiled. "You know, I've been friends with Ron and Hermione for so long, I've never really let myself get that close to anyone else. I'm glad we've had so much time together. I need more friends like you. Ron and Hermione, they're a good balance for me and we've been through so much together. But you... you seem to know me in a way that they don't. I'm not sure how to describe it. It feels really... nice," he finished lamely.

She held his eyes, letting the feelings that he couldn't put into words swirl around her heart. Happiness, contentment, affection, friendship.

"And what about tomorrow? Will we still be as close then?"

Harry's smile faded into a puzzled look. "Why wouldn't we?"

"Well it's not like we'll have time to just lie about and chat all day, is it? Back to real life and all that. I'll miss this."

"But we'll still see each other. And don't forget, I'm your captain now. After a few practices, you'll be wishing you could get rid of me," he teased.

She flashed a brief smile before turning serious again. "But if you ever want to just hang out, you know, and talk or, I don't know..."

He reached out and took her hand, bringing her eyes up to his.

"Same here."

She nodded and squeezed his hand in agreement before letting it drop. The shadows were lengthening across the field.

"It's getting late," Ginny said, and they started their descent down the tree.

Harry arrived at the bottom first and jumped down to the ground, reaching his arms up to help her. He grasped her around the waist and lowered her down in front of him. Ginny tensed at the nearness of him; she turned and faced him, but he didn't let her go. He wore a playful smile on his face and glanced up at the tree and then back down at her.

"I guess you won then."

She laughed. "What do I win?"

Her smile faded as he didn't answer but continued to look at her, searching her eyes. Her heart raced and she felt herself being lost in him. Unconsciously, she reached up and touched his cheek, caressing it. Tilting her face up to his, her lips parted.

Harry caught his breath and backed away, leaving Ginny standing with a mortified look on her face. A panic spread through him as he fought to form words that would sound reassuring.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm not..." Not now, not yet, his mind screamed. He felt terrible, like he had knocked the wind out of her. "I didn't mean to..."

"No. No, it's my fault, I'm sorry." Ginny raised her hand to her mouth; she wanted to crawl into a hole and die of embarrassment. "You said you just wanted to be friends. I should have..."

She should have what? Pushed away all those years of loving him when he had finally noticed her and actually wanted to be with her? Ignored the way her heart crashed in her chest whenever he touched her? Her eyes pricked in anger at the injustice of it. She turned and walked blindly through the grass, swiping at her tears with the back of her hand.

"Damn it," Harry swore under his breath. He cursed himself for letting this happen. He should have seen how she felt about him; he had thought he was being careful. But he couldn't let her walk away. Running to catch her up, he called for her to wait, but she ignored him. When he reached her, he touched her arm gently, but she stopped and jerked away from him.

"What," she sighed, her head beginning to ache from the stinging in her eyes.

"You're angry with me."

"I'm angry with myself. I thought I could do this, be friends with you. Now, I don't know."

"Don't say that," Harry pleaded. "Does it have to be all or nothing, Gin? I asked you if you still had feelings for me like that, and you said no."

She looked up with hurt in her eyes and then dropped her head. "I didn't say no."

She hadn't? he thought. Well, she certainly hadn't said yes. "I can't... I'm not ready for that kind of relationship with you. I like what we have now. We're so much closer, can't we just..." he tried desperately to explain. "I don't want to go back to just being some bloke who's friends with your brother. Is... is that what you want?"

The misery in her eyes made him afraid, for one terrible moment, that she might say yes. But she shook her head.

"No, I don't want that."

He exhaled in relief. "Good."

"But, Harry?"

"Yes?"

"Just be careful, okay? I mean, what you said back there, it made me feel... and if you don't want..." She heaved a sigh. "You need to give me some space if I'm going to be able to do this."

He backed away a step further and held up his hands in surrender. "Okay."

She exhaled and her posture relaxed. "Okay."

They returned to the house without talking. Ginny ran up to her room, and Harry slumped on the sofa as Ron came in from the kitchen. He sat down next to Harry and offered him a biscuit, taking another bite of his own and glancing toward the stairs.

"You two were gone for a long time."

"So?"

"Everything alright?"

Harry stared at his biscuit without answering. He didn't want to talk to Ron about this, not yet. He needed time to think first. Finally, he stuffed the biscuit into his mouth wearily and said, "Let's play chess."