The First Day

Ginny's stomach growled audibly in the library, sounding unnaturally loud in the quiet room. She glanced at her watch and her eyes widened at the time. She had slept through breakfast and worked through lunch. She was about to miss dinner entirely, if she didn't get down to the Great Hall. She stuffed her books into her bag, and ran out of the library, slinging the bag over one shoulder as she pelted down the stairs. Ginny skidded into the nearly-empty Great Hall, her trainers echoing through the threads of conversation that wound through the students still eating dinner. An eerie hush fell over them, and a few people snickered, while whispers rushed down the long tables like river currents. Frowning, Ginny slid into the Gryffindor table and spooned peas onto her plate. 'What's going on?' she asked Demelza.

'Nothing,' she replied quickly. Too quickly for Ginny's taste.

'How come I don't believe you?'

Demelza sighed and dug into her bag. 'This,' she said, holding out the Sunday paper. 'It's just rubbish from Skeeter.'

Ginny snorted. 'Then why did everybody get so quiet? It's just Skeeter. Not like she writes anything...' Her voice faded as she looked down at the paper. 'Oh... my....' she breathed. She turned the paper sideways, her head tilting in the opposite direction, gazing at the photograph. 'Hm.' She held it out a bit. 'That's... erm... ' A blush slowly rose up her cheeks. 'Had no idea Ron could do that...'

Demelza cleared her throat. 'That's not all...' She flipped the paper over, revealing the blaring headline: Golden Trio Torn Apart?

Ginny began to laugh. 'Oh, honestly...' She forked a piece of chicken to her plate.

'You really ought to read the article,' Demelza insisted.

Ginny shook her head. 'Nope. Not going to get pulled into that.' She reached for a bowl of carrots. 'It's all lies anyway.'

'How do you know?'

Ginny pulled her wand from her bag and pointed it at the paper. She whispered, 'Incendio,' and the paper burst into flames. When nothing was left but a pile of smoldering ash, she turned to Demelza. 'One, it's Rita bloody Skeeter. Two, I know how Harry feels about Hermione, and vice versa. Three, I know why Hermione went to Australia alone. Most people aren't going to believe that article.' She glanced around the Great Hall. 'Well, there are some who will, but Skeeter just writes stuff like that to get her name out there. She must be feeling neglected.'

'If you say so...' Demelza said doubtfully.

'I do.' Ginny speared a carrot with her fork. 'It's not the first time she's printed rubbish about Harry or Hermione. And it's not the first time she's been dead wrong.' She pushed a carrot around her plate. 'Besides, I have bigger things to worry about. If Dean doesn't come on as Keeper, I've got to try and find someone to do it, otherwise I'm going to have to do it, and I really don't want to do it.'

Demelza reached for a piece of apple tart. 'Why not?'

Ginny chuckled. 'Too much pressure.'

Demelza choked on an apple. 'Playing Seeker isn't enough?'

'You can catch the Snitch and still lose,' Ginny pointed out. 'Remember the World Cup before our third year between Ireland and Bulgaria?'

'Yeah...'

'Ireland won, even though the Bulgarian Seeker caught the Snitch,' Ginny said shrugging. 'If you let enough Quaffles through, anything can happen.' Ginny began to cut her chicken. 'Besides, it helps if you're somewhat taller. I don't have the reach for it.'

Demelza tried to visualize the other Gryffindor students. 'What about Connor?' Connor was one of the boys in their year. He was somewhat shy and reticent, rarely volunteering answers in class. He was also well over six feet tall with large, broad hands.

'Maybe... But I have a feeling he'd faint clean off his broom in front of the entire school at the first game.'

Dean slid into the bench opposite Ginny. 'Okay. I'll do it.'

Ginny's face split into a wide grin. 'You will?'

'Don't get so excited,' Dean cautioned. 'You haven't seen me yet. I did harbor fantasies of playing goaltender for a professional footie team before I came here. Even played on a recreational team during the summers until last year.'

'What's footie?' Demelza asked curiously.

'Muggle sport,' Ginny answered. 'Kick a ball around. Try to get it into a net past another player who's kind of like a Keeper.' She eyed Dean. 'Were you any good?' she asked, business-like.

'I was all right.' Dean fiddled with an empty goblet. He shot Demelza a look, casually tilting his head toward the door.

Demelza gazed at Dean for several moments, her brow furrowed. 'You all right, Dean? You got something wrong with your neck? You keep... Oh.' She hastily stood up. 'Erm. I've got to go to the library...' She all but ran from the Great Hall.

'So...' Dean picked up a jug of pumpkin juice and poured it into the goblet. He traced around the rim with one of his fingers. 'How's... How's Harry?'

'He's all right.' Ginny replied. She picked up the jug and filled her own goblet. 'Started working a couple of weeks ago.'

'I heard. Everything just falls in his lap, huh?'

Ginny's eyebrow rose slowly. 'He earned it,' she said quietly. 'You ought to know that.'

Dean had the decency to look abashed. His cheeks darkened slightly. 'I suppose.'

Ginny pushed her plate away with a sigh. 'I am sorry about how things ended...' she began.

'Don't worry about it.'

'I didn't mean to hurt you,' Ginny said softly, remembering Dean standing in the common room, clutching a shattered glass. 'It wasn't...' She cleared her throat. 'It wasn't supposed to happen like that...' She looked down at the table. 'It wasn't supposed to happen that quickly.'

'D'you love him?'

Startled, Ginny's gaze flew up to meet Dean's. 'What?'

Dean leaned forward, his eyes fixed on Ginny's. 'Do you love him?' he repeated. Ginny's eyes closed and she bit her lip. 'You don't have to, you know,' Dean stated.

'What did you say?'

'You don't have to love him because he's the hero,' Dean said calmly. With that he pushed away from the table and left the Great Hall.

*****

Christianne Gibson set the report down on her desk and glared at Harry. 'What were you thinking?' she demanded.

'That there was a Death Eater we needed to capture.' A muscle in Harry's jaw twitched slightly as his teeth clenched.

Gibson's lips thinned in displeasure. 'So you felt it necessary to barge into the Abbey by yourself?'

'I didn't barge into anywhere!' Harry said hotly.

'You overrode your superior,' Gibson growled.

'And I captured Nott,' Harry retorted.

'You didn't follow department protocol.'

'Does it really matter?' Harry sighed in exasperation. 'We fulfilled our mission, nobody got hurt, and we didn't even have to bring Obliviators out to modify anybody's memory. So I took the lead. What's the problem?'

'The problem, Potter, is that there are rules and procedures. And you violated half of them. You follow the senior Auror's lead, not the other way around.'

Harry bit back the angry retort and exhaled strongly through his nose.

Gibson folded her hands together on the desk. 'I did not agree with Kingsley's decision to make you a full Auror. In fact, I strongly advised him against it, without putting you through some sort of training program like the others. I know your type, Potter. You don't think the rules apply to you and you can just push them aside when they're not convenient. We've lost more than one because of arrogance like that.' She opened the file and slid the report inside. 'You may go,' she said, in clear dismissal.

Harry pushed himself to his feet and stalked out of the Head Auror's office. He made his way to his cubicle and snatched up his bag, slinging it violently over his shoulder as he went to the lifts. Level Two was deserted, as it tended to be toward the end of the day on a Friday. He punched the button of the lift, muttering under his breath. When the lift arrived, he strode into it, nodding shortly in greeting to the people already inside. As soon as the lift arrived at the Atrium, Harry went to an Apparition point and reappeared outside Weasleys Wizard Wheezes.

*****

'You should go back to school,' Ron said, stretching his arms over his head. 'Doesn't seem right for you to be here every day...'

Hermione glanced up from the book she was reading behind the counter. 'I don't have to be here,' she replied. 'And what's that supposed to mean: "You should go back to school"?'

'Just that you ought to be doing something more... I dunno. Important, maybe?' Hermione smiled and reached for a Canary Cream. She unwrapped it and popped it into her mouth, to Ron's utter and complete surprise. She turned into a canary, sang a few notes, then molted, shaking bright yellow feathers from her hair. Ron gaped at her for a few moments, then burst into laughter. 'I can't believe you did that!' he gasped.

'Making people laugh isn't important?' she asked archly.

'Well, no... It is... But you're supposed to do something big... Change things.' Ron picked up the clipboard with his inventory list and scribbled a few things on it. 'Not man the counter when it gets busy. You should think about going back...' he repeated softly.

'Why do you want me to go back to school so badly?' Hermione asked. 'Are you tired of my company already?'

Ron began to stammer. 'No... I mean... It's just that... I thought... School... It's important to you. And I don't think you'd be happy here with George and me.' He looked down at his list. 'I just want you to be happy, hen.'

The door slammed open, making them both jump. 'She's completely out of order!' Harry fumed.

Ron glanced at Harry in bemusement. 'Erm... Who...?'

'Gibson,' Harry muttered, his teeth clenched. 'She's just spent the last half hour berating me for my behavior on the case last week.'

Hermione closed her book and stuffed it inside her bag. 'What did you do?'

'Nothing.' Harry took a deep breath. 'Well, not so much nothing. I saw something odd and went to investigate without going through "proper" channels.'

Ron shrugged off the magenta robes and reached behind the curtain to hang them up. 'What does that mean in English?'

'It means I took the lead when it should have been the senior Auror.' Harry's shoulders slumped, his ire rapidly burning itself out. 'I wrote the report with Peter. He said that I saw something he missed and insisted it was worth looking into. And that he supported my decision to see what it was, provided I didn't put anyone into danger.' He ran a hand through his hair, making it stick out over his ears. 'She's made it perfectly clear she doesn't think I belong there.' Hermione opened her mouth but Harry cut her off. 'And I'm not going to Kingsley over it.'

'That's not what I was going to say,' protested Hermione. 'And why not?'

'Because that just proves she's right,' Ron said.

'Exactly.' Harry shifted his bag to the other shoulder. 'She already had her mind made up before I even started. 'I'm not going to give her an excuse to think Kingsley made the wrong decision about me.'

'But Harry,' Hermione began, 'she's creating something of a hostile work environment.'

'It doesn't matter,' Harry sighed. 'It's just one more thing to deal with.'

Ron slowly put his jacket on. 'What do you mean, "one more thing"?' he asked.

'It's nothing,' Harry said quietly. 'It's just normal stuff. Like Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder in my cubicle, or trick quills. Sometimes, they try to sneak some of the Snackboxes to me, but I've been looking at those for years now.' He glanced at Hermione, taken aback slightly by her indignant expression. 'They're just trying to see if I can handle it. Breaking in the newbie,' he tried to assure her. 'They'd do it even if I wasn't Harry Potter. Besides, it's a hell of a lot tamer than anything the twins ever did. These blokes are amateurs.'

'But still...'

'Leave it, Hermione,' Ron advised. 'It's what blokes do to each other. I heard Charlie once say that when he got to Romania, for the first few months, it seemed as if every day someone did something barmy, like putting dragon dung under the steps of his cabin, or replacing all the potions in his medical kit with colored sugar water.'

Hermione stared at Ron, then Harry. 'That is utterly ridiculous,' she pronounced. 'I'll see you tomorrow, Ron,' she added softly, her hand brushing against his. 'Good night, Harry.' She picked up her bag and slipped out of the shop.

When they heard the faint pop of her Disapparition, Ron turned to Harry. 'How bad is it really?'

Harry shrugged. 'Nothing I can't handle. Like I said, just amateur stuff. And after everything I've been through, like with the Triwizard, and the year afterward, anything those idiots just out of the training program can dish out is just silly. It's not outright harassment. Yet.' He didn't tell Ron about the snide comments made in team meetings - comments made by older members, as well as younger ones of the Auror department - that questioned Harry's ability to handle the work. Harry ignored it, or tried to, in the hope that it would all go away when he could prove himself. Certainly Avery Carmichael hadn't said anything else since they returned from Montrose. 'Don't worry about it, all right?'

'All right.' Ron poked his head through the curtain. 'Oi! George, come on! I'm starving!'

'Keep your hair on!' George yelled. 'Or go home without me. I won't be long.'

Ron exchanged a glance with Harry. 'Dunno what's eating him. He's been in a right state since last week,' he murmured. 'Come on, then. Mum ought to have dinner ready soon.'

George waited for the door to close before he emerged from the back room. He peered around the edge of the front door and watched as Harry and Ron Disapparated before he waved his wand in a large arc and all the lights dimmed in the shop. He slipped out of the door, and wound his way through the throng of people scurrying home at the end of the day and made his way to Katie's building. He tipped his head back and counted the windows until he came to hers. It was aglow with light and George darted into the building before he could change his mind.

He ran up the stairs and knocked tentatively on Katie's door, ignoring the voice in his head that told him to go home. 'Yeah, hang on,' Katie called in a distracted tone. George heard her stumble over something before she yanked the door open. 'Hiya,' she said breathlessly.

'Am I interrupting something?' George made a vague gesture toward the open door.

Katie tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. 'Not at all. Just doing some work.' She held the door open wider. 'Want to come inside?'

'Sure...' George sidled past Katie into the small flat. 'What are you doing?' he asked looking at the row of cakes on the postage-stamp sized table.

'Testing recipes. I do a sort of review column for Witch Weekly. I test things like recipes or products, then write up a report. We had witches send in their favorite cake recipe and narrowed it down to seven, and the winner has theirs printed at the end of the column,' she explained.

George eyed her figure, dressed in pajama bottoms and a loose t-shirt. 'How do you stay so slim if you test food?'

'I'm hardly slim,' Katie hooted. 'But I don't eat the whole thing, gumby. Just a few bites. I go run a bit, though. Or play a few pick-up games of Quidditch with a recreational league. If I didn't, I'd never fit into my trousers.' She glanced at the cakes. 'Want to help me out?'

George glanced at the cakes and grinned. 'Yeah.'

Katie Summoned another fork from the drawer in the kitchen, and handed it to George. 'After you.'

George took the fork and dropped into a chair, digging a forkful of cake from the one in front of him. He squinted dubiously at the layer of raspberry jam between layers of chocolate cake, before shoving it into his mouth. 'So... What's new?'

'Nothing much,' Katie replied, taking a bite of the same cake as George. 'Mmm. That's not bad.' She swallowed it and took another bite. 'I'm sort of seeing someone...'

'Summerby?' George made an effort not to spit the name out.

'How did you know?'

'Saw him leaving here one morning. Last week, I suppose.' George moved on to the next cake. It was luridly pink inside. 'What in Merlin's name is this?'

'Strawberry.' Katie tasted the cake. 'Yeah. Strawberry. But you saw him...?' She nervously toyed with her fork.

George saw the movements of her hands, and shoved a bite of cake into his mouth to gain a few moments to gather his thoughts. 'It's your life, Katie.' He took another bite of the surprisingly good cake, in spite of its color. 'No judgements here.' George put the fork down. 'As long as you enjoy his company and he's not mistreating you. Then, I might have an issue with it.'

Katie poked at another cake, the frosting studded with sherbet lemons. She gave George a look. 'Ever been interested in anyone?' she asked.

'Nice way to keep it neutral,' George quipped, making a face at the overwhelming lemon flavor of the next cake. 'Never really dated anyone,' he said. 'I have been interested in someone,' he admitted, keeping his gaze on the cake. 'A girl,' he clarified with a sideways glance at Katie. 'But we were just friends.' He shrugged. 'She wasn't interested.'

'She sounds like an idiot,' Katie sniffed.

George shook his head. 'No. She's not...' He meditatively drew the tines of the fork through the thick frosting of the lemon cake. 'I never told her. That would make me the idiot.' He stuffed a bite into his mouth, forgetting how tart the frosting was. 'Besides, it's probably too late now.'

Seeing that she was treading on thin ice, Katie changed the subject. 'How's the shop?'

'Going great. Poor Hermione's been spending the days with us. I think she's a bit bored, but won't admit it. Ron's been trying to talk her into writing McGonagall to see if she can go back to school, but she won't do it. Insists she's fine where she is. Ron's keeping the front organized, and we spent an entire day one Saturday debating about what to keep and what to stop selling.'

'But you don't like that...?'

George sighed. 'It's not that I don't like it,' he began. 'It's just... I feel like we're pushing Fred out of the equation. I mean, the whole thing was his idea to begin with, and now it doesn't even feel the same...'

'You can't keep things the same,' Katie said gently. 'It would have changed without Ron, wouldn't it?'

'I suppose...' George said reluctantly.

'Look, George. Nobody's saying to have to forget Fred. But you do have to let him go.' Katie reached across the table, and touched the back of George's hand.

'I know...'

*****

Ginny pushed her Charms textbook aside. She tore the end of the parchment off her notes and began to scribble a short note to Hermione.

21 September 1998

Dear Hermione,

I was pleased to hear you got back from Australia in one piece. I have to tell you that photograph in the paper was something else. Didn't know Ron could do that - especially after being forced to watch him with Lavender two years ago. Seems he's learned some finesse. You two were quite the topic of conversation for a day or two, I tell you. Well, at least until Skeeter tried to print that rubbish about Shacklebolt.

I have a question for you...

It's about Harry. Well, not really about Harry, but it sort of involves him. When I was younger (and a lot more foolish, it seems...) I had a crush on the idea of him. You know that. Like he was the prince in those Muggle fairy tales Dad read to me when I was small. But it turned out the prince could be a surly git, who suffers from crushing guilt, and ended up being a real boy after all...

I guess I just need to figure out if I'm still in love with the idea or the person.

Or even at all...

Ginny threw the quill on the table and crumpled up the letter, lobbing it into the fireplace. 'Bugger it,' she muttered, opening her textbook once more. It wasn't as if they were getting married next week. It could wait.