Consequences of the Heart

Chapter 4 - Emotional Tie-ups

The next week, Harry spent his time pruning the twenty or so trees that dotted the front and back gardens. His favourite were the fruit trees, as he was forced to pick the ripening fruit before trimming the branches. Ginny took it upon herself to lug the baskets of fruit from the trees to the house where Mrs. Weasley was busy tinning peach preserves and pear slices. The extra help was a nice change in the working dynamic that, to Harry, indicated he had likely been forgiven for their end of term duelling debacle.

When Harry had confronted her about her sudden change in behaviour, she had become evasive and secretive.

"Hand me those clippers, please," asked Harry politely as he balanced on the rickety wooden ladder.

Ginny set her half-filled basket of apples down and handed him the long-handled pruning scissors with a smile.

He took the tool but did not immediately return to his task; instead, he gave the redheaded witch below him a calculating stare. "What's with you, Ginny?"

"What do you mean?" she asked innocently enough.

Setting the pruners down on the top section of the ladder, he folded his arms and continued to stare at her. "When I first started working for your mum, you told me you couldn't help me at all, and now here you are, pleasantly giving me a hand. How is that?"

Ginny smirked at him and picked up the basket again, slipping the handle into the crook of her elbow. "First of all, I said I wasn't supposed to help you directly but McGonagall never said I couldn't offer my services beyond what was in the letter. Second, nothing happened - exactly. I just...thought things would be better if I lent a hand here and there."

Her eyes fell to her feet when she said this and her free hand fumbled nervously with the delicate gold bracelet on her wrist, making Harry almost certain that she was being evasive. A notoriously good actress, Ginny had the ability to bluff her way through almost every situation and Harry couldn't help but wonder why she would be dodging the subject here.

"Well, whatever...I-- uh--I'm glad for the help." Harry wanted to be conciliatory, but couldn't quite make it work and settled for half a compliment. His own bracelet was oddly cool and this time, there was no charm or spell that could explain it away.

Ginny's head rose slightly, just enough for Harry to see the demure look on her face as she said, "You're welcome, Harry." The bracelet's odd behaviour left his mind and they finished picking apples together.

The day after the trees were picked and trimmed, Harry and Ginny finished their Transfiguration essays and began work on Herbology during their study session in his bedroom. She never mentioned his emotional outburst from the prior week, and for that Harry was grateful. Still, he couldn't help but think that having her there was exactly what he had needed, and strange as it sounded to him, that moment seemed to be the turning point in their friendship.

Just as odd, were the bracelets that they both wore. Harry wasn't the sharpest knife in the drawer, but even he was starting to put things together. On the first day, when Remus and Molly had explained their function and the way they heated up when they were feeling especially vicious towards each other, made it clear to Harry that they at least conveyed the hate that the other person had for them. Over the past couple of weeks, Harry was starting to see a trend that suggested that it worked the other way as well. They seemed to get cold when the other person's feelings were especially nice for them. What Harry was to do with this knowledge however, eluded him.

Harry and Ginny returned to the Burrow from Privet Drive that Saturday evening to have dinner and found Ron in a mood.

The Floo trip from Mrs. Figg's house was bumpy and dirty, and when they slid into the Burrow's kitchen, Harry had to wipe his glasses for a good five minutes before they came clean. Miraculously, Ginny didn't seem to have a speck of soot on her and slid through the grate with the grace of an Olympic gymnast.

Ron came charging downstairs, distracted and dishevelled, ploughing into his sister without a second glance and started rifling through the drawers of the secretary.

"Watch it," snapped Ginny crossly.

Harry was still trying to get his glasses clean, but the soot on his shirt wasn't helping.

When he finally put them on his face, Ron had dumped out the contents of half the secretary and was in the process of sorting through the pile of quills, paper clips and other random objects. Ginny had him fixed with an evil glare, but he was oblivious to it.

"That was rude of you, Ron," said Harry. "You should probably apologize."

Ron finally gave up on the pile and started as he looked up at them, obviously surprised to see them there. "What are you on about, Harry?"

Getting more and more annoyed with his best friend, Harry took a step towards him and pointed at Ginny. "You about toppled her over and didn't so much as blink. Apologize."

"Take it easy, mate," said Ron, his hands stretched out in front of him. "It's just Ginny; she's used to it by now."

Shocked by Ron's callous treatment of his sister, Harry barely noticed when Ron moved into the kitchen proper and began searching through the drawers and cupboards "You have the manners of a Troll," he said, letting his voice rise a notch. "Apologize!" Ginny's hand suddenly squeezed his shoulder and she sent him a pleading look, as if she didn't want him to press the matter.

Ron turned to face Harry and looked as if he were staring at a complete stranger. "What's your problem, Harry? She'll get over it. She always does."

Still being restrained by Ginny, Harry was at a loss as to what he should do.

Ron snapped his fingers. "I know what's the matter," continued Ron when Harry didn't say anything. "You're still upset about your punishment this summer, right? Holding over some of your anger from last year too, I'd wager. Well, knock it off, Harry. I'm sorry Sirius was killed, but you can't go on like this. You need to let your grief go and move on."

Harry's face lost its colour when Ron mentioned his dead godfather's name. Had this happened two weeks prior, Harry would certainly have punched him where he stood, but he didn't. Ginny did instead, knocking Ron down with one punch.

"How dare you!" she screeched as Ron held his eye protectively. "You inconsiderate, slimy little flobberworm! You've no idea what Harry's been through; what it's like to carry the load he's got on his shoulders!" Ginny was towering over her brother and Ron cowered under her mighty wrath. She reminded Harry strongly of Mrs. Weasley and it finally sunk in just how dangerous it was for him to have faced that same anger just two weeks ago.

"You hit me," Ron wailed. "I can't believe it!"

"Apologize," Harry and Ginny said simultaneously, sharing a wry glance before facing Ron together.

"I'm bloody sorry, all right!" Ron said miserably as he touched his face and winced. The area around his eye was puffing up like a balloon and he had to squint to look at them. "To both of you. I'm sorry for knocking you over, Ginny, and I'm sorry for yelling at you, Harry."

They looked around awkwardly for a moment as the tension in the room dissipated. Harry's breathing slowed and he stuck out his hand, the bracelet dangling from it not giving so much as a twitch. "All right, then."

Ron and Harry shook hands and Ron scuttled up the stairs to his room.

Beside him, Ginny let out a breath and sank onto the stool next to the kitchen counter. "Well, that was fun."

Harry considered his friend for a moment and said, "He just needs a good snog, is all."

Ginny snorted and nodded her head vigorously. "I can think of just the witch for the job, too."

"Oh," said Harry as his eyebrows shot up. "Someone we know? Prefect with brown hair?"

"You know," said Ginny as she stood and linked elbows with Harry, "I think she might be just the one."

The job assigned to him after that had been to re-build the fence around the garden. Pulling out the old posts turned out to be the most difficult part, as he wasn't allowed to use magic to Reductor them into splinters or levitate them out. Since he and Ginny were working together as a team, she had devised an ingenious method to pull them up involving a long iron pipe on a pivot and a large basket of rocks. The actual construction after that had been quite simple, if not easy.

With the fence done, the week after that had been spent re-paving the walk between the Burrow and the shed. It had taken longer than Harry initially thought it would, simply because the old bricks were wedged into the sand and grass so tightly that it took him three days just to pull them all out. Smoothing the path and adding more sand was simple by comparison, but Harry couldn't shake the feeling that something was odd about those old bricks.

When Ginny asked her mum about it, Molly confessed that there was a sticking charm placed on the bottoms, but that she had thought it had worn off by then. Since the bricks had mostly been removed by the time Harry had discovered this little secret, it simply didn't warrant a Finite Incantatum to the rest of them and Harry finished pulling out the stubborn bricks by hand.

It had rained off and on since that first thunderstorm three weeks ago and whenever it wasn't raining and Harry had finished a little early for the day, he would grab Ron for a game of Quidditch in the back paddock while Ginny made dinner. They would alternate from Seeking against each other to Harry playing Chaser while Ron defended a transfigured hoop. Even with the first week being as horrible as it had been, and the back-breaking work he was being forced to do, Harry found himself enjoying his summer more than at any other time in his life. So much so, that he cheerfully worked all day, just for the chance to be with Ron and Ginny, and not at his aunt and uncle's house.

*

Arriving again just outside the Burrow at the beginning of his fourth week of work, Harry waited in the still morning air while Remus walked into the kitchen to announce their arrival. As Harry looked around at the various improvements he had made, satisfaction swelled in his chest and he couldn't help but feel proud of his accomplishments, regardless of the reasons he had come to labour for the Weasleys.

A large pile of lumber lay to one side of the shed in the distance and Harry had a hard time imagining what it was he'd be doing that week. The fence had been re-built, the shed was in good condition, and the Burrow itself was so propped with magic that Harry doubted he could do anything to improve upon it with regular Muggle construction. So what was the wood for? More importantly, as Harry had been working the past few days, the question of where the money had come from to pay for the new materials had been niggling in the back of his mind. Not wanting to bring up a touchy subject, Harry had deferred making reference to it until he could come up with out a tactful way to do so. Still, he had to wonder if Mr. Weasley had come into some windfall at work or if the twins' joke shop had met with an unforeseen success.

Ginny appeared in the doorway and walked towards Harry, letting the screen slam noisily behind her. "Morning, Harry," she said brightly, almost skipping as she closed the distance between them. "Have a good day off?"

"So-so," he said wistfully. "Dudley's still trying to get me to sing more Fiddler for him, but I've managed to hold him off for now."

Ginny's smile inflated Harry's heart and he realized how much he'd missed her company and was more than a little cross with himself for feeling that way. "Well," she said, patting his hand lightly, before taking it in hers, "You'd better learn some more songs, or he might think you weren't being completely honest."

Harry guffawed and was joined by Ginny's tinkling laughter. She pulled on his hand, her mouth still turned up in delight, and Harry suddenly became acutely aware of the way her hand felt in his. The sensation was a strange blend of comfort, embarrassment, pleasure and nervousness, and he wondered why holding her hand now had such a profound effect on him, when he'd just have tried to grind her fingers together given the same chance a month ago. Adding to the confusion was the fact that his bracelet was now casting an odd glow.

They walked together down the clean brick path, as had been their ritual, and paused when they spotted a tall young man with red hair pulled into a short ponytail and a fang dangling from one ear.

"Bill!" exclaimed Ginny, who tore down the remainder of the path and jumped into her brother's arms. Harry found himself staring at his hand as he continued to ponder the odd feelings swirling through him. "I didn't know you were coming," she said excitedly.

"That's only because Charlie beat me at 'Rock, Paper, Scissors'," said Bill sardonically.

Ginny's countenance fell as she slid back to the ground. "You mean...you're not here just to see me?" Her lower lip jutted out spectacularly and started to quiver so convincingly that even Harry, who had intimate knowledge of her acting ability, was almost convinced she was genuinely sad.

Pausing for a second, Bill pulled a face and said evenly, "Of course your favourite brother is always up for a visit with you, midget." He ruffled her hair affectionately and she harrumphed, obviously put out that he hadn't been fooled. She seemed to accept the explanation however, even though Harry noticed that she had never confirmed Bill's favourite brother status.

Turning to Harry as Ginny hooked her brother's arm with hers, Bill said, "You know what you're up against today?"

When Harry shook his head, Bill continued. "You," he said pointing to Harry's chest, "are going to be re-building the dock."

Harry choked, "What dock?"

"The one at the pond," interjected Ginny, as if he was supposed to have intimate knowledge with that particular body of water.

"What pond?" Harry persisted. "I've never seen a pond here."

Ginny gaped at him and Bill chuckled low in his chest, and then said, "Well, I can guarantee that your ignorance won't last out the morning."

Bill walked over to the large pile of lumber, then pulled out his wand and waved it in the air in front of the wood. The top stack levitated and began to trail behind him as he walked back up the path, motioning for Harry and Ginny to follow.

*

Harry followed Bill and Ginny around the outer edge of the Burrow's property line, listening to them banter back and forth about Bill's work with Gringotts, his dating experiences with Fleur and Ginny's prospects for the O.W.L.'s this year. When they walked through a small glade and crested a hill on the other side, a relatively large body of water appeared before them.

"Wow," said Harry reverently, admiring its seclusion and resisting the urge to jump in to enjoy the coolness of the water. He turned to Ginny as Bill continued down the foot path. "How come you've kept this a secret from me, Weasley?"

Ginny looked appropriately contrite. "Because it never came up?"

They continued to where a dilapidated wooden structure protruded into the water like a wrecked ship. Bill set the pile of new lumber down on the flat area near where the dock met with earth, then turned to survey the area.

"I'll need to pull out the old support beams after you remove the deck planking and cross ties," said Bill as he highlighted different sections with his wand as he spoke. "When you're done ripping out everything but the pilings, let me know and I'll come dig them out with magic. It's too much work for one person to do without it."

Harry nodded sheepishly, trying to wrap his mind around the enormity of the task in front of him, while not looking like he was intimidated by it. He must have been unsuccessful however, because Bill clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Stiff upper lip there, Harry. It's not as bad as it looks."

Then he pointed his wand in the general direction of the Burrow and said, "Accio toolbelt!" A moment passed and a crashing sound met their ears just before an impossibly-large leather belt with a hundred pouches filled with various metal and wooden instruments broke through the trees and flew to the spot where Bill stood.

"You should have everything you need here." He set the oddly-shaped belt down and before he left, said, "I'll be back after lunch to check on you. Right now, I've more important things to take care of."

"Bye, Bill," sang Ginny, giving him another hug. "Say 'hi' to Fleur for me before you start snogging; I'm sure you'll forget once you get started."

"Ha, ha," Bill answered with a fake laugh. "No snogging for me today," he said with an oddly-furtive glance at Harry. "Or for you either."

"What are you..." started Ginny as Harry spluttered incoherently beside her.

"Bye," said Bill and then Apparated away with a loud crack.

Harry stared at the spot he had just occupied before Ginny turned to him and said, "So what's first?"

Strangely ruffled by Bill's comment, Harry shrugged and said, "I suppose pulling the planks off would make the most sense." He bent down and turned the heavy belt over until he found a couple of pry bars and hammers. Grabbing one of each, he took a breath and walked out onto the dodgy-looking dock to begin tearing off the ancient wood.

*

As the day wore on, Harry had removed his shirt in favour of letting the slight breeze cool his skin in the face of the scorching heat. Ginny had cast another sunscreen charm and promptly left for the Burrow, muttering something about a cold shower.

The rotting wood came off easy enough, but the rusty nails that vainly attempted to hold them to the cross beams required quite a lot of force to come out. The pry bar was too large for the nails, but the claw-end of the hammer provided a perfect tool to remove the stubborn fasteners.

The work was dull and boring, but a mounting stack of old wood and pile of bent and rusted nails testified to Harry's progress. The planks were off just after noon and Ginny was waiting for him with a basket of food, which they ate under a swaying birch tree.

Ginny had changed clothes; her dress replaced by a large baggy tee shirt with a wildly-coloured sash tied around her waist.

"What's with the new outfit?" questioned Harry as he polished off his plate of potato salad and dabbed at his mouth with a paper towel.

Ginny pulled at her shirt and with a questioning look, said, "This? I've got my bathing suit on underneath and was going to cool off in the pond for a bit after lunch."

"Didn't your mum ever tell you not to swim right after eating?" asked Harry cheekily.

She smiled warmly and packed away their plates. "Yeah, but Bill will be here in a bit and I wanted to interrogate him for a few minutes anyway, so I don't reckon I'll die of a stomach cramp today."

Reluctantly, Harry pushed himself off the blanket they had been sharing and walked slowly over to the dock, lingering in the shaded area for as long as possible. He had just begun to pull off the cross braces when Bill showed up, a grumpy look on his face, muttering under his breath.

"Everything all right?" asked Harry tentatively. Bill was an unknown quantity to Harry; someone who was to be looked up to for his achievements as Head Boy and job successes and to be feared as the oldest brother of the witch Harry had recently duelled into the hospital.

Bill snorted and started to rifle through his tool belt. "Nothing a nosey sister couldn't make worse," he said with some disdain.

Focusing again on his work, Harry pulled more and more supports off the structure until it resembled a precarious collection of large grey sticks. Bill waved his wand at the discarded wood until it had been completely banished; to where, Harry didn't know.

A loud splash caused Harry to stop midway through prying one of the cross beams and crane his neck to see what had caused it. His eyes caught a flash of red as Ginny's slim figure kicked along the surface of the water. Arriving at a large rock, she pulled herself onto it and proceeded to wring out her wet hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail. Her one-piece swimsuit was red and blue with a swipe of white across the front and Harry's face heated as she leaned back on the rock, unaware of his close inspection.

The prybar in Harry's hand slipped and fell. Just as it hit his foot, the two by four he had been working loose swung around and smacked him in the head. Harry howled indignantly, trying to grab his injured foot and head at the same time, even as Bill's accusing laughter rang in his ears.

"It's not all that funny, you know," said Harry, checking his forehead for blood with a tentative finger.

"Yes, it is," said Bill with a crooked smile. "It's especially funny because I saw what caused your lapse of brain power."

"I just dropped the prybar, Bill. It's not like I cut my hand off or something," Harry said, annoyed and embarrassed at being so clumsy.

"That you did." Bill's smug look was oddly unsettling and Harry couldn't help but feel annoyed by it. "Girls tend to be hazardous on the job site, you know, causing that sudden loss of blood to the brain when other things take over," Bill said suggestively.

Again, Harry's face heated. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure you do," Bill countered with another knowing chuckle. "Just remember that she's my baby sister and I won't have just anyone ogling her in her bathing suit."

"I wasn't ogling her," Harry protested hotly, sure that his voice had carried over to where Ginny was still sunning on the rock. Then as he picked up the prybar from the wet ground, he muttered quietly to himself, "She's not a baby - babe, yes, baby no...."

*

Once all the support structure was removed and the pilings were all that was left of the old dock, Bill took over. Harry sat off to the side, under the shade of the nearby trees, to watch an impressive display of magic. First, Bill cast a water repulsion charm on the three sides of the wooden columns, and evaporated the trapped portion with a drought spell. Once they were exposed, he Reducted them into a million tiny splinters and bored out the holes with a spell Harry had never heard of. Harry mixed cement and Bill levitated the new columns into place before they both pushed the mix into the holes.

"That should do it," said Ginny's older brother as he rotated the last column to make sure it was secure in the still-wet concrete. "We'll let this set overnight and I'll cancel the repulsion charms in the morning once we've made certain it's secure."

With the sun setting on the horizon and his stomach grumbling, Harry slung the discarded shirt over his shoulder and followed Bill to the Burrow. Once inside, Harry leaned heavily against the doorframe while Bill went to put the tools away for the night.

Ginny appeared in front of him, wearing a plain white dress and matching cotton jumper. She wrinkled her nose and smirked. "You stink, Potter. Take these and go shower before we eat dinner." She shoved a pile of clean clothes at him that he recognized were from his chest of drawers on Privet Drive.

"When did you get these?" he asked with wide eyes. She didn't answer however, and only smiled more enigmatically before pushing him up the stairs.

"Get clean, and then we'll talk."

Perplexed but definitely ready to scour the dirt and sweat off his body, Harry trudged up the stairs until he came to the only bathroom in the house. With a curious glance at Ginny's partially-open door, he wondered about the person that slept there and then walked into the loo to start his shower.

*

Clean and dressed in a fresh set of clothes, Harry stepped lightly down the stairs and into the kitchen. Ginny was waiting there by the sink with another basket of food on the counter, her legs crossed, one bouncing lightly on the other.

"You ready, then?" she asked patiently as she straightened up and took the basket with both hands.

"Lead the way," he said, motioning towards the door.

*

They walked back towards the pond and Ginny led them to a small picnic table under a large willow tree on the other side of the unfinished dock. Harry dusted off the leaves and dirt that had accumulated on the rough-hewn seats before Ginny took her seat with an appreciative smile.

"So what's for dinner tonight?" asked Harry sincerely. She could tell he was quite hungry and had grown to anticipate the different meals she had been preparing for them to eat each night.

"Beef Wellington, asparagus spears sautéed in garlic butter and a pound of fresh rolls," deadpanned Ginny as Harry goggled at her. She paused for a beat, then allowed the smile she had been holding back to turn her lips upward. "Just kidding, Harry. I can't cook things like that, yet."

"I wouldn't put it past you," he said, eyeing the basket as she played with the cord that kept it closed. "You're an amazing cook."

Knowing that her cheeks were tinged with pink, she opened the basket at last and pulled out two covered platters. "I wasn't kidding about the rolls, but the main dish is London Broil with a side of mixed vegetables from the garden."

Uncovering the dish, she was grateful to see him inhale deeply and stab a roll with his fork before swallowing it in two large bites. "Mmm," he said as he chased the yeasty bread with a swig of chilled pumpkin juice.

They ate in relative silence, each content to enjoy the food Ginny had prepared. When the meal was finished and Harry had eaten his fill, Ginny began to clear the table. She started when Harry's hand touched hers and she looked up to see him staring back at her.

"I'll get it," he said simply. "You've helped me out these past few weeks, so I...uh, think I should help you too."

"Are you feeling all right?" she asked with mingled concern and disbelief.

"I'm fine," he said peevishly, but Ginny could tell there wasn't any force behind it. "Can't a bloke help clear the dishes every now and again?"

"Well, you haven't exactly been generous towards me lately," she explained, hoping that they could finally put their past behind them.

"I know," he said quietly. "I'm sorry about that. It hasn't been easy to forget what happened, though I've got the forgive part down pretty good."

He finished putting their plates and service dishes away and Ginny didn't press him further. Instead, she asked him a question she'd been meaning to ask for the last three weeks.

"Harry?" she ventured carefully. When he looked up at her, she continued, "What kind of girl would you be interested in...romantically?"

He put the last fork in the basket and closed it slowly. Ginny's bracelet cooled considerably and she jiggled her wrist to keep it from chilling too much of her skin.

"I don't know," he said finally, taking his seat again across from her. "I don't guess I'm really ready for a relationship right now."

Ginny's face fell a little and she picked at a spot of paint that had come loose on the table. "You...you don't?"

Harry suddenly became very interested in his hands and every now and then, pinched at something on them with the tips of his fingers. "Going out with Cho was an unmitigated disaster," he began. "You know, hindsight and all, it was stupid of me to believe that she could see me and not think of Cedric."

She wanted to reach across the table and strangle him until he told her everything he was feeling, but knew she would have to be patient with him. He was just a thick boy, after all.

"What about now?" Ginny prodded gently. "You both learned something from that, didn't you?"

Pausing with whatever he was doing with his hands, he looked up at her. "What possible interest could you have in this topic?"

Fighting back the flush that was threatening to paint her face, Ginny took a deep breath and tried to act as nonchalant as possible. "I care about you, Harry. I think it would be good if you had a girl in your life."

He nodded and resumed picking at his hands.

"What are you doing to your hands?" she asked, suddenly interested.

He froze instantly and guiltily shoved them under the table where she couldn't see them and refused to meet her eyes. With an impatient sigh, she stepped around to his side of the table and straddled the bench, her long, loose dress gathering below her knees. "Give them to me," she said, holding out her hands.

Reluctantly, he extracted them from under the table and still avoiding her gaze, let her take them. "Harry," she gasped. "What happened?"

"It's nothing," he temporized. "I've had worse."

They were dotted with scores of blisters and hundreds of splinters. His fingers were particularly bad, with blood seeping from little cracks in every joint. "Why didn't you come to me sooner?" she said, whipping out her wand from a pocket in her dress.

"I didn't want to bother you," he said when a familiar blue light caressed his fingers and palm. The splinters disappeared with miniscule pops and the cuts healed over. It took a few minutes for her to cover all the problem areas, but eventually, his hands were whole again.

"Thanks," he said sheepishly, staring at the bench between them.

"Harry," she said sternly, pushing his chin up with a finger. "Next time, come to me before it gets this bad, all right?"

He nodded hesitantly and folded his healed hands in his lap, taking a sudden interest in the table.

Ginny sighed and said, "You never did answer my question."

"Didn't I?" he said, the confidence returning to his voice.

"No," she said with a slight laugh. "What kind of girl is going to be the object of your affection next?"

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, nervously. "I'm not ready for another relationship, Gin."

"What do you mean?" she asked, both surprised and pleased at his use of her shortened name.

He ran a hand through his hair, leaving it messier than before. "Voldemort," he said simply. "Until Voldemort's dead, I can't...I can't risk being with anyone that way."

Gathering her courage, Ginny took his hand and said, "Listen, Harry. First of all, Tom shouldn't dictate how you live your life. Second," she said taking a breath, then continuing before Harry could mount a protest, "you've got to find someone that makes you happy. If you don't, this year will be worse than last year. You'll be moodier -- if that's possible -- angrier, and if you don't get in a good snog or two before the end, you'll be so stressed that Lord Stinky Britches will have no problem hexing you into next week."

Harry sat back against the trunk of the willow, gaping at her in surprise. "What d'you mean moodier and angrier?" he said once he had regained his composure. "I'm not moody or angry!" he snarled.

Ginny sent him a pitying stare and folded her arms primly across her chest. "Then what do you call what you're being right now?"

"I don't know," he yelled, jumping to his feet and pacing around in front of the picnic table, a hand rubbing impatiently at the back of his neck. Then more calmly, he said, "I'm no good at that kind of stuff, Ginny. Being raised by people who hated me and kept me in a cupboard didn't exactly prepare me for the complicated nature of relationships. I like things simple and direct, you know, with a bow tied on it to make sure I know it's for me. I - I just - I'm not good at talking to girls, and I can't figure out what they're on about most of the time. I just don't exactly have the skills to have a girl in my life right now."

"No," she agreed, "you don't. But you've got to do it anyway, or there won't be a Harry Potter left for any girl to snog when you are ready."

With that, she left him goggling after her again and walked with the basket back to the Burrow, all the while, humming an old English tune.

*

That night, Harry spent most of his time thinking instead of sleeping, despite the fact that he was bone tired. Ginny's words had struck a chord in him and he couldn't rationalize them to fit any scenario but the one she had given him. He needed to relax; to prepare himself for the inevitable conflict with Voldemort and according to Ginny, the best way to do that was to find a snogging partner and a broom cupboard. Yeah, right. Pigs will fly before that happens, Potter.

The next morning hadn't come with any flashes of insight or witty ways with which Harry could deflect Ginny's next enquiry into his love life. It was inevitable, really, that she would bring it up again, so Harry spent his efforts on trying to come up with a way to distract, confuse, or otherwise get her to stop being so bloody insightful.

Remus was as prompt as ever, knocking politely on the front door at eight forty-five. For some odd reason, his aunt insisted on answering it every morning and when she did, it was with the strangest looks at the werewolf.

"Getting along all right, Harry?" asked Remus as they began their regular morning banter.

"Just peachy, Uncle Moony," replied Harry, using the Marauder's nickname as both a term of endearment and as an attempt to rankle the normally unflappable wizard. "Tomorrow I'll be sixteen, one year closer to freedom," he said with a significant glance at his eavesdropping aunt.

"Yes," said Remus as he motioned them to sit on the settee. "About that.... Mrs. Weasley has asked that we have a small get-together at the Burrow tomorrow in lieu of you working on the dock." He held up a hand as Harry opened his mouth to protest. "It is, of course, on the condition that you finish the dock today."

Harry was torn. On the one hand, he most certainly didn't want anyone making a big deal for his birthday. On the other hand, deliberately stalling his efforts to finish the dock today, admittedly a short time for such a large project, was completely out of the question. Harry simply didn't work that way.

"Fine," said Harry, suddenly coming up with a plan of his own. "I'll agree to your condition if you agree to mine."

Remus eyed Harry warily. "What have you got up your sleeve now?"

"First tell me how Mr. and Mrs. Weasley are paying for all the wood and things I've been using over the summer?" he asked cagily.

"Ah," Lupin said as he rubbed his slightly-whiskered chin with a thumb and forefinger. "I was wondering when you'd ask about that."

"Well, I'm not privy to their entire financial status, but I've got an idea what lumber, paint, and cement cost and I know that they can't have won another lottery like they did three years ago."

"Indeed," said Remus, still sizing up his younger companion. "I'll tell you, but you can't tell anyone with red hair that you've heard it from me, all right?"

Harry nodded his head, grateful that he didn't have to push to get this information from Remus. He had a feeling that the pushing would come later.

"As of right now, they're securing store credit in both the Muggle and Magical worlds," Remus said without preamble. "They've also asked me to help them get loans to cover the costs until they can save enough to pay the balance."

Having suspected something like this, Harry was ready to move forward with his plan. "I have an idea," he said. "I've been on the receiving end too many times when it comes to the Weasleys; Molly's treated me like a seventh son, Arthur was brilliant with the trial and everything last year, the twins...well, let's just say they've never let anything bother them, Ron's been my best friend for ages, and Ginny..." He stopped suddenly as her face floated into his mind.

"Yes?" asked Remus, a bemused expression on his face. "What about Ginny?"

"She's...different. She's very special to me," he forced out.

His face twitching oddly, Lupin leaned forward in his chair and pinned Harry with his most controlled stare. "Is that right?" he said, lips still trembling. "Like the sister you never had or merely the girl that you've been dreaming about snogging for the past two weeks?"

"I have not!" said Harry hotly. "There's been no snogging in those dreams!" He was about to say more but he realized, too late, that he had revealed enough already and had to scramble to divert the conversation back to its original destination.

"Look, what I'm trying to say, is that I love the Weasleys. They've given me too much and I want to pay them back for their kindness."

Sitting back in his seat, Remus sobered and asked, "So what do you have in mind?"

"I want you to take money from my vault in Gringott's and pay the balance on their store credit accounts, then," he said with the most pleading look he could muster, "make sure they don't get their loan."

Remus blew out a breath. "That's a tall order," he said as he resumed playing with his long whiskers. "I can probably pay the accounts off, but I'm not sure about the loan. They've gone through three Muggle banks already so I don't think my word will have much sway."

Harry's face fell. "Well, do whatever you can. I don't want them in debt just because I hexed their daughter."

Remus stood and checked the watch hanging from his robe pocket. "I will, Harry." Harry stood and prepared for their Portkey trip to the Burrow. "You know," Remus said, his hand pausing in mid-air with the lime green telephone receiver. "Sirius was right about you."

Harry gulped, unprepared for his godfather's name to be brought up so suddenly.

"You are an awful lot like James," Remus said with a twinkle in his eye. "I just can't seem to sort out what it is about Potter men and redheads..."

Before Harry had a chance to reply, the plastic phone touched his finger and Privet Drive spun away in a whirl of colours and a rush of wind.

*

When they landed next to the pear trees by the shed, Harry hit the ground and fell on his knees, giving his escort time to Apparate away without being lambasted for his previous comment. Grumbling about meddlesome adults, Harry walked to the Burrow's kitchen, and found Bill sitting at the table, reading from the Prophet and sipping on a cup of coffee.

"Morning, Harry," said Bill as he cradled the mug in his hand and folded the paper over with his fingers to look at the sports section.

"Hey, Bill," said Harry tentatively, wondering if he should sit down at the table, or wait down by the dock before getting started. "I'll just meet you down at the pond, then?"

"Sure, sure," Bill said, waving a hand absentmindedly in Harry's general direction.

Grateful to be outside again, Harry quickly made his way down the narrow path and heard the sound of someone singing in the distance. He couldn't make out the words, but he recognized both the tune and the voice. Ginny was singing the song she had been humming endlessly over the past few weeks. Excited to finally hear what it was that had occupied her mind for so long, Harry sprinted over the small rise, but just as he was about to break free of the trees, he stepped on a branch on the ground, sending a jarring crack into the air. Ginny instantly stopped singing and turned to see Harry fumble down the path.

Foiled in his attempt to eavesdrop, Harry walked the rest of the distance and sat next to Ginny in the dirt. "Whatcha singing?" he asked, still breathing heavily from his run.

Ginny glanced at Harry from the corner of her eye and smiled. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

In her hands was a stick that she was using to busily scratch out something in the wet earth. "You've been humming whatever that was for weeks," he said, still anxious to find out the tune's name.

Dropping the stick, she got to her feet and offered her hand to him. "Yes I have, Harry," she said enigmatically. "And before you ask," she continued as she pulled him up. "I'm not going to tell you what it's called just yet."

"W - why?" he said as she walked north, following the curve of the pond.

"Walk with me," she beckoned and Harry ran to catch up with her as they made their way around the shore.

Shooting him another inscrutable grin as he continued to try to figure out what was going on in her head, she said, "It's nothing salacious, just a little silly."

"Silly, eh?" he asked as he kicked a pebble into the water, sending a gaggle of water bugs scurrying away from the waves it generated. "So silly you can't tell me about it?"

Ginny let out a happy sigh. "I'll tell you, but not today. I've got to work some things out, remember?"

Comprehension dawning slowly, Harry nodded and they continued walking in silence. In the cool of the morning with the activity of the birds at its peak, Harry was content just to be outside and grateful that he wasn't alone. Leaves crunched merrily under their feet and the tall grasses on the shore rustled in the wind, filling Harry's lungs and heart with a lightness that he couldn't explain but didn't ever want to end.

As they rounded the pond's far side and started to walk back towards the dock, they spotted Bill levitating more wood behind him, the tool belt held firmly in his other hand.

"Guess it's time to get busy," said Harry matter-of-factly but slowed his pace, causing Ginny to turn around and question him with her eyes.

"What is it?" she asked softly.

Shuffling his feet a little, he looked down to where her ankles appeared from underneath her dress. "Thanks for the walk... I - I really needed that."

Raising his eyes to meet hers, he saw an infections grin splitting her face. "Come on, then," she said, jutting her elbow out. "The sooner we start, the quicker we can finish this project."

Linking his arm in hers, they set off for the dock, both happily humming the same tune and both ignorant of the glow emanating from their wrists.

*

Once Bill had verified that the cement had cured and that it was safe for Harry to attach the new support structure, Bill released the water repelling charm. Harry set to work with an eye towards finishing his work that day, suddenly motivated to celebrate his birthday with the Weasleys.

Ginny was there with him, handing him nails, tools and pieces of wood, seemingly as determined to help him finish as he was.

Harry nailed in as much of the cross bracing as he could while still staying on land, or on various parts of the dock's skeleton. When there was nothing left to nail from dry land, he pulled his trouser legs up as far as he could and waded out into the water, a bag of nails stuffed into a pocket and several more pinched between his teeth.

The last board was almost in place when Harry felt a sharp tug on his ankle, almost pulling him into the water. Dropping the nails from his mouth, he cried out, "What the...."

Another sharp tug convinced him that it wasn't going away and he kicked out with his other foot, connecting with whatever it was that had a hold of him, but also giving it a chance to pull his leg until he toppled into the water.

Flailing madly in an attempt to right himself, Harry vaguely heard Ginny calling his name before he went under again. Harry held his breath and opened his eyes to see the blurry form of a Grindylow attached to his ankle, its thin, bony fingers surprisingly strong as it pulled him deeper into the water. Without a wand, Harry was at a loss, but kept kicking at his with his other foot, only making contact every other time.

Spots started to cloud his vision and the burning in his lungs threatened to overwhelm his sense to not breathe in the deepening water. Just as he was about to succumb, but still kicking weakly at the creature pulling him down, a hand appeared out of nowhere and pried the fingers loose from his ankle, a faint cracking sound filtering through the water. Another hand grabbed his arm and pulled upward with an almighty wrench. His head broke the surface and Harry took in a lungful of the sweet, refreshing air.

Harry wasn't quite sure how he made it to shore, but he opened his eyes and looked over to his rescuer and saw Ginny also gasping for breath as they lay in the sun, his shoes already pulled off of his feet. "Thanks," he managed to say as their breathing slowed.

"Not a problem," she answered back, propping herself up with her hands, wet dress clinging to her heaving front as if it had been vacuum-sealed. Harry's mouth went dry and he had to force his eyes up to hers. An evil grin crooked across her face and the gleam in her eye sent his heart beating rapidly just as it had begun to slow. The water on his face evaporated from the heat he knew was radiating off his cheeks and although she never said anything, he felt abnormally guilty for ogling her after she had just rescued him.

Someone cleared their throat menacingly from behind them and Harry whipped his head around to see Bill glaring at them. "What's going on here?" Bill asked, his eyes darting back and forth between them.

"A Grindylow attacked me when I was nailing up the supports on the end of the dock," explained Harry, trying to fight back the redness on his cheeks. Ginny wasn't helping matters as she continued to look at him like he was a piece of meat and she a feral lion.

"There haven't been Grindylows in the pond since I was twelve," said Bill suspiciously.

Ginny broke herself out of her reverie and looked up to Bill. "Then how do you explain these bites?" she asked, taking Harry's foot and jerking it toward her brother, nearly toppling Harry again. "I had to break the thing's fingers before it would let Harry go."

Still looking sceptical, Bill bent to examine the bites before pulling out his wand. "Well," he said, shooting an odd pink light from his wand into the water around the dock. "If there was anything in the water, that charm will keep them away until nightfall."

Without another word, he Apparated away, leaving Ginny still clutching Harry's foot and Harry still on the ground, trying not to roll back into the pond.

"Um, Ginny?" said Harry tentatively. When she turned to look at him, he said, "My foot?"

"Oh, right." Ginny sat down, offering Harry more leverage to sit up properly. She held his foot gently with one hand, setting it into her still damp lap and prodded around the wounds gently with her finger.

"Hold still," she said softly, removing her wand from her dress pocket to apply a healing charm. But Harry didn't see the glow that infused his ankle, or feel the warmth that seeped into his skin and muscles. All his attention was on the girl that had just risked her life for him, that was even now taking tender care of his wounds.

An odd flutter in his stomach caused him to take in a sharp breath.

Ginny stopped the healing charm. "Did I hurt you?" she asked concernedly and the flutter increased. He barely noticed as she pushed at the gold jewellery on her arm.

"N - no," he said quickly. "It feels fine." But Harry knew that he wasn't fine. The feeling in his stomach was something that he'd felt before and he knew exactly what it meant. When Ginny was done fixing his foot, he put his shoes back on and waded out to finish his job.

From the looks Ginny gave him for the remainder of the day, Harry knew she suspected something, but he wasn't about to tell her that he was becoming attracted to her. Lunch was quiet and the rest of the day went quickly as Harry threw himself into his work, desperately trying to ignore the burning in his heart every time he caught a glimpse of red or heard Ginny's soft voice.

For her part, Ginny didn't press him, and for that, he was grateful, but he knew that with their conversation about relationships yesterday, it was only a matter of time before things came to a head and would need to be resolved, one way or the other. Determined to put that day off for as long as possible, Harry finished his task and walked wearily back to the Burrow, glancing at the sinking sun as Ginny walked silently beside him.

*

Harry was right. His strange behaviour was not lost on Ginny, and as she watched him fly around the makeshift pitch with Ron after dinner that night, she desperately went over the events of the day to see if she had done or said something wrong that would have caused him to change so suddenly.

Her own feelings about Harry were so muddled, that Ginny couldn't figure out where hers ended and his began. With a frustrated sigh, she leaned back on her blanket and watched the two boys zooming around the paddock in the waning light, focusing on her memory of Harry's wet face as she held his foot in her lap.

The picture of Harry's face changed. In its place flashed an image of Ron, diving for a Quaffle as his mouth formed words she could not decipher. At the exact same time, she heard Ron's voice, "What kind of throw was that, Harry?"

Shocked, Ginny's eyes sprung open, but the vision remained. Ron flew down to catch the red leather ball and back up to where Harry was hovering. Ginny could see Ron toss the ball to Harry, but Harry's arms did not move to catch it. Instead, the ball arced through the air and smacked Harry hard in the nose.

"Ahh," yelled Harry and Ginny simultaneously, Ginny reaching up with a hand to check her nose for blood.

"I'm sorry!" said Ron forcefully. "I thought you were paying attention. I'm sorry."

When she was satisfied it wasn't her that Ron had hit with the Quaffle, Ginny sat up and locked eyes with Harry. His face mirrored the shock and surprise that she felt and they continued to gape at each other. Ron was still apologizing to Harry, before Ginny gathered her wits and her blanket, and set off for the Burrow. She was confused and just a little frightened that she had quite possibly been channelling Harry's thoughts just then and on top of sorting through her feelings for the black-haired boy, she needed to find out what in the world had just happened between them.