Consequences of the Heart

Chapter Six - Black is the Colour of My True Love's Hair

A week after picking beans in the Weasley's garden, Harry found himself once again groaning in his bed from the exertions of hard labour. Molly had been soft on him in the days following his birthday, but more than made up for it with the next three after the weekend. He had been digging an irrigation ditch from the River Otter to the vegetable garden and yesterday, had nearly passed out from the scorching heat of the sun. Ginny saved him by keeping his water container full and held an umbrella over him while he worked. Still, his muscles ached in places he never dreamed of and even though the ditch was complete, the prospect of doing anything that day was quite unappealing.

Harry was face-down on his bed, his head pressed into his pillow so that the downy innards were pushed outward on both sides of his head, making the portion between his face and the mattress effectively cushion-less.

A sharp knock on his door announced a visitor, and Harry blearily wondered why Uncle Moony just didn't walk in like he normally did. He turned over slightly, letting his arm dangle off the side of the bed so he could get a better look at the door, which was creaking open.

Without his glasses, Harry couldn't make out the finer details, but several things caused bells to go off in his head. Instead of a taller man-shaped blur, there was a shorter blur with long red hair.

"Ginny?" said Harry with a start, pushing off his mattress to sit up and then felt around for his glasses. When she came into focus, he asked, "What are you doing here?"

She stood in the doorway, her eyes staring unabashedly at Harry's chest and a faint red tinge gracing her cheeks.

"I...um, I came to get you," she said breathlessly. Last weekend, the cat had finally come out of the bag and the remaining Dursleys became aware of the fact that Ginny was studying with Harry. To Harry's great shock, Vernon merely grumbled about the fact that another freak was in his home, but made no further protest. Significant glances to Harry's aunt were only met with subtle shakes of the head and he pursued it no longer.

Dudley's reaction however, was completely expected, even if Ginny's solution to his reaction was a bit...violent. After a few not-so-subtle innuendos as to the kinds of things Harry and Ginny might be 'studying' in Harry's room, Ginny had lost her temper and had given the Junior Heavyweight Inter-School Boxing Champion of the Southeast a large shiner on his left eye. Needless to say, Ickle-Diddykins had given them a wide berth ever since.

Bringing his thoughts back to the present, Harry watched Ginny fidget by the open door. "Is there something wrong with Moony?" asked Harry with sudden concern.

Ginny smirked and bent to pick up a tee shirt off the floor, not breaking eye contact with Harry's torso. "Nothing wrong, per se," she said as she flicked the shirt at him. "Put that on first, or I don't think I'll be able to have a coherent conversation with you."

Realizing that he hadn't put on a shirt after his shower last night, Harry cringed and pulled the shirt over his head obediently.

Once he was covered, Ginny shook her head slightly and her eyes finally found Harry's face. "After he dropped you off, he went back to headquarters like he normally does, but from what Charlie tells me, Tonks was waiting for him there."

Harry goggled at Ginny as he pulled on a clean pair of socks and pushed his hand through his hair. "Tonks?"

Ginny sat on the chair at Harry's desk while he proceeded to make his bed. "She's apparently been trying to get him to loosen up -- Charlie's words, not mine -- for quite some time and finally decided to try the direct approach."

"What are you saying?" Harry asked.

"Tonks thinks that Lupin would make a most excellent boyfriend," Ginny replied.

"But...but," Harry spluttered for a moment. "He's so old."

Ginny rolled her eyes and took Harry's hand when he finished with the bed. "At their age, the gap doesn't matter nearly as much as it does for us, Harry. He might be 'old', but he's not dead. One thing led to another, and he's nursing a werewolf-sized hangover right now."

Shaking the mental image of Tonks and Remus out of his head, Harry let Ginny drag him downstairs until they were in the kitchen. "We're alone for the morning. Remus said something about Petunia shopping and Dudley at a training match."

She pushed him into a seat at the table and without another word, began pulling out pots and pans to make breakfast. "I brought my own ingredients to make omelettes, so your aunt doesn't blow her top." she explained holding her bag up as evidence. Then turning to the stove, asked, "How do you light a Muggle stove, Harry?"

Standing once more, Harry walked up behind her and pointed to the knob protruding out of the front of the fancy, built-in unit the Dursleys had installed three years ago. "Push that in and turn it anti-clockwise. You should hear a clicking sound. When it lights, keep turning it to the left until you get the right-sized flame."

So intent on explaining the process to Ginny, Harry hadn't realised that his arm was around her waist and his chin hovering a mere inch over her left shoulder. She turned to look at him when he finished speaking and they locked eyes. A brief surge of panic welled inside him and Harry had to wonder if it was entirely his own dread that he was feeling, because he felt a slow surge of other emotions: anticipation, longing and something that he couldn't quite characterize apart from saying that it felt like an urgent wanting.

The fear intensified and Harry took a step back, tearing his eyes from her to look at the pan. His bracelet was ice-cold, but he made no move to touch it. "Give it a try," he said softly.

Ginny placed the bowl of beaten eggs on the counter and soon had a nice blue flame dancing on the hob. Harry continued to watch her as she diced up onions, peppers and mushrooms from a bag she had at her feet and he appreciated for the first time how much alike they were.

Even discounting Hogwarts, Quidditch, and their mutual run-ins with Voldemort, they were remarkably pre-disposed to be able to relate to one another. Harry was an only child, living under the oppressive thumb of the Dursleys. Ginny, the only female Weasley in six generations, constantly trying to break out of her brothers' shadows.

Harry's fame had branded him as someone unreachable to many people and therefore, his friendships were few and far between. Ginny's experience with the Chamber in her first year sullied any chance she might have had to be 'normal'. As a result, her friendships tended to be one-sided, or at best, stemming from her association with Gryffindor or her brothers.

Harry continued to ruminate, as Ginny turned one omelette over and began working on the toast; on the flip-side, there were things about their personalities that exactly complimented each other. Ginny never let Harry go too long being a git before she pulled his head out of his arse for him, sometimes forcefully. She was bold, headstrong, and independent and Harry found himself more and more willing to let her take charge of the part of his life that he didn't understand: the part that involved believing in himself and the future.

When Ginny turned from the stove, Harry had to blink, not realising he had been thinking they whole time she'd been cooking and that breakfast appeared to be done. "Ready to eat?" asked Ginny, holding out two plates as she walked over to the table.

Harry nodded, pulled the pitcher of orange juice from the fridge and retrieved two cups from the dish rack, still lost in thought.

They sat opposite one another and eyed each other warily before Ginny grinned and said, "What? Have I got something on my nose?"

"No," said Harry with a smile of his own. "Just thinking."

"Well, thinking requires food as much as anything, so let's get eating before Mum Apparates over to find out what's taking us so long."

*

Upon arriving at the Burrow, Harry found Ron pulling one of his school robes on and shoving a piece of toast in his mouth.

"Off somewhere?" Harry asked his friend.

Ron pulled the bread from his mouth once his robes were on straight. "Fred and George need a hand at the shop," he explained. "Huge sale. All Hogwarts students get a thirty percent discount until September First."

Thinking about how uncomfortable it would be for The-Boy-Who-Lived to be stuck in a shop with hundreds of his peers milling about, Harry said, "Better you than me."

"Right. Well, I'm off." Then poking his head upstairs, Ron yelled, "See you at dinner, Mum!"

Harry barely heard Mrs. Weasley's muffled reply from somewhere upstairs when Ron threw a handful of Floo powder into the kitchen fireplace and yelled, "Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes!"

Rubbing his sore arms pitifully, Harry glanced at Ginny and said, "What have we got to do today? I hope it doesn't involve a shovel."

Ginny laughed at Harry's obvious distress and mournful expression. "Poor, Harry," she soothed. "How about a job that requires you to lie down in the shade all day?"

Harry's ears perked up. "Really?"

"Yep," she confirmed, a twinkle in her eye that spoke of mischief.

Instantly sceptical, Harry grabbed her arm. "What's the catch? You wouldn't pull a bloke's leg, would you?"

Ginny just turned on a megawatt smile and patted his hand. "You'll see, Harry. You'll see."

They waited in the kitchen for a while and Harry was about to ask what they were waiting for when Mrs. Weasley came downstairs.

"Sorry for making you wait, dears," she said, dusting her apron off with one hand. In her other hand, she held a strange device that had a small net on one side and a spray bottle on the other. "It took me longer than I thought to find the de-bumbler."

Harry raised an eyebrow and glanced at Ginny, who only smiled mysteriously back at him. "Um...what's a de-bumbler?" he asked.

"It's what you're to use when you get rid of the Glumbumbles under the house, dear," Molly explained patiently. "Didn't Ginny tell you?"

Ginny's smile faltered for a moment and Harry let a grin slip on his own face. "No, Mrs. Weasley," he started slowly. "She forgot to mention it; she said something about lying down in the shade all day, though."

"Ginny," said her mum sharply. "You shouldn't tease poor Harry. He's got enough to worry about without being used to exercise your sense of humour."

Harry ducked his head to hide his snicker while Ginny tried to turn her shock into remorse. "I'm sorry, Mum," she said and Molly nodded her head.

"Right, then. You'll need this," said Mrs. Weasley, handing the de-bumbler to Harry. "Ginny can show you how to use it, so off you go."

The two teens walked to the garden door and were outside before Harry let his first snicker loose.

"'Poor, Harry' is it?" asked Ginny, who was clearly not amused. "I'll show you 'poor Harry'."

Before Harry could react, she had her fingers on his sides, right in the middle of his rib cage and began to wiggle them madly, sending waves of laughter from his mouth. They fell in a heap on the ground as she continued to torture him. "St - Stop," he managed to force out through the giggles, but Ginny was having none of it. Instead, she moved to his stomach and Harry instinctively clenched his muscles, making the tickling sensations stronger.

Finally grabbing at her hands, he was able to keep her from tormenting him further and opened his eyes. "You...are...so...dead," he gasped, still struggling to breathe properly.

"You deserved it," she said with a laugh, pushing his hands away and rolling towards the house. "It's not fair to play the 'mum' card and you know it."

Harry guffawed. "I'm sure you never used it with your brothers, right? Ickle Gin-Gin wouldn't stoop to manipulate her mother to deflect punishment would she?"

Narrowing her eyes, Ginny asked, "Have Fred and George been telling stories about me again?"

With an angelic smile, Harry said, "Might have been them, but I wish I could have seen the look on your face when they got you with the water balloons on your eighth birthday."

"Argh!" she said with a pout. "I'll have them for lunch if they're brave enough to step foot in the Burrow again."

"You're cute when you're angry, did you know?" he asked cheekily as he pushed himself off the ground and grabbed the de-bumbler.

Harry didn't wait to hear an answer however, walking instead to the opening under the front steps that led to the crawl space and a hive of Glumbumbles that needed to be eradicated.

*

Despite the idea of being forced into close proximity with what turned out to be several hives of the furry insects, Harry found the work to go fairly easily. When lunchtime came, Harry had managed to get most of the hives out, using the sprayer to stun them and the net to scoop them up. Ginny assisted by taking the jars of stunned Glumbumbles into the shed, where the fluid they excreted could be harvested and sold to the Apothecary in town.

About an hour after lunch, Harry was down to the last few nests, when he heard a small pop and felt something sticky on his arm. Moving around under the house was a difficult proposition to say the least. With about a foot and a half of space between the floor joists and the gravelly ground, Harry had to scoot around on his back or chest to manoeuvre into position by each nest.

As he turned over to see what it was on his arm, he put his lit wand down in the gravel and froze momentarily in surprise. Harry couldn't move his left arm at all and the more he struggled, the harder the sticky substance became. Thinking quickly, he decided to use the net to pry his arm loose, but ended up with a bruise instead.

Deciding there was nothing else for it, he cupped his mouth with his free hand and pointed it at the small shaft of light at the other end of the Burrow. "Ginny!"

A moment later, something blocked the light and he heard her voice echo in the confines of the crawl space. "What is it, Harry?"

"I'm stuck," he said, no longer needing to yell. "There was something sticky down here and my arm seemed to find it."

"Hold on," said Ginny and she disappeared for a second before returning. "I'm coming in, just stay where you are."

Soon, another lit wand made its way towards him and Harry could make out her grunts as she shuffled and shimmied in the gravel. A cloud of dust preceded her and he tried to cough the metallic taste out of this mouth.

"What did you get yourself into now?" she asked sardonically.

Ginny's wand lay next to Harry's sending an ethereal glow around their heads. Harry didn't answer, but shrugged his shoulder, as the other one was still immobile.

Reaching behind him, Ginny extracted a small, faded, blue plastic bottle. "Gred and Forge's experimental ever-sticking solution," she said wistfully. "Do you know how old this is?"

Harry couldn't breath. Ginny was very close to him now, lined up perfectly so that their eyes were level and Harry couldn't help but notice how pretty she looked with smudges of dirt on her cheeks and nose.

Something else popped, this time much louder than before and Ginny jumped, moving even closer to Harry with a small squeak. "Oh no," she groaned, mostly to herself. Then with a playful smirk that completely distracted Harry, she said, "I'm afraid I'm stuck too," she said and demonstrated her honesty by trying to jerk her right arm from underneath her. Ginny chewed on her lip for a second and an unbidden image of Harry chewing on her lip flew into his mind before he quashed it.

"Fred and George used to play under here when they were kids," Ginny said quietly, apparently aware of his discomfiture. "They had set traps down here to keep us out so they could do their experiments without Mum and Dad finding out."

Harry's breath came in short gasps as his heart raced. He was certain that Ginny's lips were quivering slightly and he had a mad desire to chew his arm off and crawl away as fast as he could manage with a missing limb to get away from her. "H - How do we get unstuck?" he asked shakily, his eyes darting back and forth in the dim light of their wands.

"Mum's in Diagon Alley, getting our school books. She should be gone for at least another hour," she murmured, her warm breath licking his lips. "We got our Hogwarts letters today, you know." It looked to Harry like she was just as nervous as he was, but the quivering in her lip wouldn't go away and it was driving him to distraction.

"R - Really?" Harry's voice broke and he made a show of clearing his throat. "Fancy that."

When she didn't respond, he looked into her eyes and the dull sensation that heralded a slow surge of emotions returned. Unlike this morning, retreat was not an option. Harry heard a groaning noise in his mind and something snapped, letting loose a torrent of feelings, desires, fears, and hopes. It overwhelmed him and Harry did the first thing that popped into his mind, the same thing that had been plaguing his dreams for weeks and had been pulling at his thoughts all day: he kissed her.

Using his free hand to pull Ginny's head even closer, Harry crushed his lips to hers as he closed his eyes. As the flood of feeling ebbed from their link, it was replaced with a softer sensation, as if he were floating in a warm river of scented bubbles or surrounded by thousands of comfortable pillows, and in the back of his mind, he could hear Ginny's unintelligible voice singing to him.

*

Ron Weasley tumbled out of the grate of his kitchen fireplace and immediately took off his soot covered robes and hung them on a peg behind the living room door. Famished, but also thirsty, he decided to satisfy the latter need first.

As he drained a cup of cool pumpkin juice, Ron set his mug down and let out a relieved breath. "Man, that's good," he said to himself. The house was strangely quiet and Ron wondered where everyone was.

He moved to the kitchen sink and debated opening a package of crisps when a loud klaxon-like alarm sounded. Suddenly fearful, thinking a Death Eater had breached the wards at the Burrow, Ron ran to the secretary where an old wooden clock sat, blaring a noise that reminded him of the alarm on the girls' dormitory in Gryffindor tower.

Looking at the clock face, he could see Harry and Ginny's pictures on the front, both smiling widely next to individual dials whose needles were pegged all the way to the blue side of their range. "Blimey," said Ron as the situation slowly sunk into his food-deprived brain. "I've got to do something."

Ron ran upstairs in search of the manual that the clock had come with, the alarm still blaring away. He had seen Bill slipping it into his mum's hands the night Bill brought it over and knew it must be in his parents' bedroom. One of the first things that Ron had learned as a child was that if his parents ever wanted to hide something from him, be it Christmas presents or anything else, they would always put it on top of their wardrobe.

When Ron stood on his tiptoes and reached a hand over the worn moulding, his fingers brushed a small book and he knew he had found it. Flipping through the pages quickly, he found what he was looking for.

This clock features a built-in, anti-snog alarm that is guaranteed to alert the person monitoring the couple if things get too steamy. Once the alarm is sounded, the bracelet units will begin to shrink until the wearers break their kiss and a locating charm will activate, directing the chaperone to within three feet of their location. Simply tap the clock with your wand and say, "Locatus".

Pulling his wand from his jean pocket, Ron tossed the book haphazardly back on top of the wardrobe and launched himself downstairs. Just as he turned the corner to the kitchen, his mother Apparated in with a muted crack.

"Oh, dear," she said immediately upon hearing the alarm. She dropped her bags of books onto the table and bustled over to the wailing clock.

Ron met her there and tapped it with his wand. "Locatus," he intoned.

"How did you know about that?" asked Molly, clearly surprised at his knowledge.

Just then, a fuzzy image appeared over the clock's face of a dimly lit space and as it sharpened, Ron could see Harry and Ginny clearly not mindful of the effects the bracelets were having on them because of their kiss.

"They're under the house," said Molly abruptly. "I'd go get them, but..."

"No problem, Mum," said Ron, puffing out his chest with pride. "I'll have them out of there in a cinch."

*

Ginny was flying. In all the dreams she had had about snogging Harry Potter, they had never been like this, especially they never included anything about a torrent of conflicting emotions waging war in her head. Had it not been for the fact that Harry was actually a very good kisser, she might not have been able to tolerate what was happening to them.

Then, without warning, Ginny was kissing herself.

"Eugh," they said together and broke the kiss. Her vision cleared at the same time, no longer looking through Harry's eyes, but the warring emotions stayed lodged in her brain, sending stabbing pains through her temples.

"What are you doing snogging in the crawl space?" came Ron's overly-loud voice from the entrance.

"We're not snogging, you git," lied Harry, answering for her. "We're stuck!"

"Stuck? But that's not..." Ron said, trailing off.

"We found some of Fred and George's sticking-solution prototypes, Ron," offered Ginny, just wanting to get out from the now-claustrophobic confines of the rafters.

"Oh," Ron said, still obviously confused about something. "I'll go get the solvent for it, then."

"You do that," muttered Ginny.

Harry was fidgeting and she could feel his raw emotions through the link. He was scared, uncertain about what had just happened and couldn't figure out how to talk to her about it.

"You remember last year when Madam Pince threw us out of the library?" Ginny asked suddenly.

Despite his obvious disconcertment, Harry grinned at the memory. "I can still feel the bruises."

"Do you remember what I said to you when you wanted to talk to Sirius but couldn't because of Umbridge?" Ginny wrinkled her nose as she said the name of their ex-professor.

Harry furrowed his brow in thought as though trying to remember the conversation. "Something about Fred and George?" he asked gamely.

"The thing about growing up with Fred and George, is that you think anything's possible if you've got enough nerve," said Ginny as she rubbed her temples with the thumb and forefinger of her free hand.

"Harry," she said to get his attention. "I really like you...more than a crush, but I'm really confused by everything and need some time to sort out my feelings for you." She offered him a warm smile as she continued, "Besides...this whole bond thing isn't making things easier between us."

"Yeah," he said sardonically. "It's hard enough to sort through my own feelings, but..."

"Now you've got my feelings to deal with, too," she finished for him.

Harry nodded sullenly and she knew that he could see where this was going and that it disappointed him.

"I'll be sure to let you know, okay?"

"Just make it obvious," he replied, staring at her tee shirt.

She glanced at Harry and found his eyebrows were scrunched together, as if he were angry. "And why would that be a problem?"

Harry sighed and shook his head. "People just assume I know what they're talking about, going on about things that are important but are as clear as mud to me. They use subtle phrasing and hidden meanings that I can't fathom and then expect me to just figure it out. They talk is some sort of secret code that was never taught. Whatever you do to let me know you're ready for a relationship, make it obvious."

Ginny's lips turned up at the corners of her mouth and she pushed the fringe on his forehead back with a finger. "What? Like tying a big red ribbon around my waist and a bow on my head so you know it's for you?"

Harry grinned as well and he said, "Something like that."

Letting out a breath, she gave him a quick peck on the cheek before Ron scurried into the crawl space, a plastic bottle not unlike the one on the end of the de-bumbler in his hand.

"Got it," he said when he came into view. "Hold on while I get this stuff off of you."

*

As they extracted themselves from under the house, Harry tried to implement some of the techniques he had learned from his Occlumency studies to block Ginny's mind from his. Much to his surprise, it actually dulled the effect of their connection and he was able to begin to sort through what had happened down there and what it implied for their friendship.

When they made it inside, they were met with the disapproving stare of Molly Weasley.

"Ron says that you two weren't snogging under the house," she started, pointing a finger at Harry, then Ginny. "But I've got it on good authority that you were. Care to explain it to me?"

Ron walked from behind them, something gold jingling in his hand. "These were down there too. It looks like they broke off somehow," said Ron as he handed the bracelets to his mum.

Harry squirmed as Molly moved into her "hell to pay" posture.

Molly cleared her throat. "Ron, go get cleaned up for supper while I talk with these two."

Ron looked like he was about to protest, but wisely shut his mouth and skulked off to his room while Harry absently rubbed the spot on his wrist the bracelet had recently occupied.

"Now," Mrs. Weasley continued once Ron was out of earshot. "I've already summoned Professor Dumbledore, but he's been detained. So who wants to start first?"

Ginny and Harry exchanged nervous glances and Harry could tell that she felt the same as him; it was all still fresh and new and they were too confused about everything to begin to explain things properly.

"We did kiss," said Ginny warily. "But it wasn't planned. It sort of just...happened."

With a raised eyebrow and arms still folded across her chest, Mrs. Weasley waited for them to continue.

"We were stuck in some of the twins' sticking solution," offered Harry. "I had just about finished with the Glumbumbles when I heard something pop."

"Then I went to help him get loose," interjected Ginny, "and I got stuck too."

Molly continued to eye the two teens appreciatively before she asked, "How long were you two down there before you kissed?"

Thinking it was an odd question, Harry tried his best to answer, "I dunno.... About fifteen or twenty minutes?"

"Come on, Mum. It's not like we were doing anything scandalous," Ginny said nonchalantly.

"Yeah, there was nothing in the rules that said I couldn't kiss your daughter. I thought I was being quite civil at the time," he said with a smirk, regretting the flippant tone instantly as Molly's foot began to twitch.

"You know about the bond?" asked Harry quickly, when it became clear that Mrs. Weasley wasn't going to react well to his comment. "And the spell that Dumbledore cast to reduce the effects of the bond?"

Molly nodded, letting her breath out with a slow whoosh.

"It doesn't work very well, the dampening, I mean. It just sorta slows things down. If I'm too close to Ginny I start to pick up her thoughts and emotions - if things go too far, I start seeing things through her eyes. That's weird, trust me," Harry said.

"This morning at breakfast, I started feeling it again, so I backed away, but when I was stuck under the porch I couldn't retreat." Harry paused to take a breath before continuing. "Well, you know, when you can't retreat, there's only one thing to do. Go forward."

Molly was fidgeting with her dress and wouldn't look Harry or Ginny in the eye.

"I hope I wasn't being too forward," Harry offered in what he hoped was a meek voice.

"Of course not, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said suddenly. "That's not what I'm saying at all. It's just...I know what it's like to be young and in love." Both Harry and Ginny flushed red at this pronouncement. "Even though it was twenty-odd years ago," she said almost to herself. Then more forcefully, said, "Just be careful. Both of you."

"I won't jeopardize your daughter's virtue, Mrs. Weasley," said Harry sincerely, chancing a glance at Ginny. "Your approval means the world to me and whatever happens between Ginny and me, it won't be at the expense of the love you've given me over the years. I'm not looking for a quick, cheap thrill."

The sound of the Floo connection being activated caused Harry to turn towards the fireplace, but before he could see who was coming through the grate, Harry had two arms wrapped tightly around his neck. "I trust you, Harry," Molly said into his ear. "But I'm a mum; I'm still allowed to worry." Harry relaxed into her embrace and had to hold back a laugh when he realized that he was actually taller than her now.

"You called for me, Molly?" said Dumbledore from behind Harry.

Releasing Harry from her embrace, she nodded. "I'll let them tell you about it. I need to get dinner ready," Molly said before walking over to the sink to wash her hands and being working on the evening's meal.

Motioning them into the living room, Dumbledore gave them a look that said he knew exactly what had happened and even suggested that he wasn't a bit surprised by it.

Harry let Ginny lead the way this time and plopped down on the sofa next to her, careful not to touch, lest they overload the link again.

Their Headmaster sat on a squashy bean bag across from them and said, "Molly tells me that something happened this afternoon between you. Would either of you care to elaborate?"

Harry found it oddly distracting to be speaking to his Professor as he sat on a very undignified piece of furniture; especially when he was doing so because Harry had just snogged Ginny Weasley under her house in the middle of the day.

"I always find it helpful to start at the beginning," intoned Dumbledore as he gazed patiently at the pair on the sofa.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, Harry proceeded to tell Dumbledore everything that had happened, leaving no detail out. He told of how he had been assigned to clean out the Glumbumble nests with the de-bumbler ("a highly useful tool" remarked the elderly wizard) and became stuck in one of the twins' traps. Ginny filled in parts after this, when she had become involved and when they got to the part where Harry had been about to kiss her, they stopped.

"And then..." said Harry as he trailed off. "Well, the charm you applied seemed to stop working and I couldn't think of anything else to do, so I..."

Ginny let out a sigh and said, "He kissed me, Professor. On the lips."

Once again, Harry saw Dumbledore's beard twitch ever-so-slightly. Harry cleared his throat, feeling oddly warm in the normally cool living room. "It seemed to help, though," Harry offered. "I mean, it, uh...seemed like Ginny's thoughts weren't nearly as strong as before we...uh, kissed. We did end up with crossed vision thing though, which helped us break things off."

Dumbledore looked thoughtful for a moment, stroking his beard with a hand as he continued to sit with his legs crossed in front of him. "How has your bond been since your experience?"

Harry thought back to when they finally were able to work their way out of the crawl space. "It was really hard to handle at first," he began. "But then I thought I'd try to use some of the Occlumency techniques Sna - Professor Snape taught me and...it hasn't been so bad since then. What I'm trying to say is that I can control it, but it seems to be growing stronger."

"And you, Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked, inclining his head in her direction.

Ginny cocked her head to the side in thought, inadvertently exposing her neck to Harry's view and his eyes became inexplicably drawn to it. "Harry!" she said after a moment, raising a hand to her neck.

"Sorry," he mumbled, looking down at his shoes.

"It's been fine for me, too, Headmaster," Ginny said coolly. "I can obviously still feel things from Harry, especially when we're close or touching, but nothing I can't handle."

"Hmm," said Dumbledore as he rose effortlessly from his position across from them. "All the same, I think it would be wise to re-institute the charm for the time being. The pain will be a bit more severe this time," he warned. They touched hands together as they had on Harry's birthday and once again felt the painful combinations of cold and hot shoot through them, this time leaving an ache that penetrated their bones.

"There," Dumbledore said when he had finished. "If you plan on kissing again in the near future, please consider the fact that you will have to forgo the protections of this dampening charm until it can be re-instituted, and that each time it is reapplied, it will be more painful. In the meantime, I recommend that you work on coming to terms with whatever feelings you may or may not have for one another. It's the only way to regulate the effects of an Egretic bond."

"Thank you," said Harry sheepishly.

"Enjoy your evening," said Dumbledore. "I believe Molly is cooking lamb." Then, with two great strides, he was out of the living room and in the kitchen.

*

The rest of the night had been awkward for Harry to say the least. On top of stopping short of declaring their mutual affection, Harry and Ginny were discovered kissing by her mum and her brother, lectured by their Headmaster, and at the end of the day, they could hardly look each other in the eye without breaking into a full-fledged blushing match.

Friday was spent picking more beans and tomatoes from the garden and since they had finished their homework the week before, there was no reason for Harry and Ginny to spend time in Little Whinging. It was all well and good, as far as Harry was concerned. He needed the time away from Ginny to sort out his feelings, like Dumbledore suggested; more for his own sanity than anything else. So by the time Sunday came, and it was Ginny's birthday, Harry at least had some kind of a plan in mind.

Remus arrived Sunday mid-morning to escort Harry back to the Burrow, allowing number four's inhabitants a bit of a lie-in. Harry had attempted to tell Moony that Aunt Petunia never let anyone have a lie-in, but his arguments were rebuffed. This led Harry to secretly suspect that the lie-in was for Moony, and not for Harry or the Dursleys.

"Doing well?" asked Harry as the werewolf arrived with a slight pop.

"As well as can be expected," Remus temporized. "How about you? I heard about your escapade under the Burrow with Miss Weasley, you know."

Harry fought a slight urge to blush, having come to terms with things over the last two days. "I'm sure you have. I heard a little bit about you as well, Uncle Moony."

Now it was Lupin's turn to restrain himself, and Harry could detect a faint pink on his impassive face. "Really? And what did you hear?"

There was a brightly wrapped package in Remus' left hand, a more circumspectly decorated one in his right and as he shifted nervously, their crinkling noise seemed magnified as Harry waited to drop the other shoe.

"Nothing about a shape-shifting Auror, I can assure you," deadpanned Harry.

Much to his credit, Moony only raised a single eyebrow in reply. "Indeed."

"I'm sure your intentions toward Miss Tonks are as wholesome and platonic as mine towards Ginny," finished Harry.

Remus' eyes flashed and he let out a feral growl. "You'd better act like a perfect gentleman, Harry, or there will be worse than werewolves after you." Then with a gentle smile, the wolf was gone and Remus extended the present in his left hand. "I believe you requested this?"

Harry gulped and took the gift with a shaky hand. "Thanks, Remus."

*

Ginny's birthday party was quite different than his own, but in some ways the same. There was a cake, presents and they all sang to her but the biggest difference was the lack of guests. Only immediate family members, Harry, Tonks and Remus were present; the latter two obviously because of Harry.

Having planned on getting Ginny a gift ever since she had mentioned her impromptu party with Sirius last year. Harry had given Uncle Moony the job of acquiring her a present. The trick came in picking something out that was both meaningful and simple. He didn't want to impose himself on her with jewellery, especially after what had recently happened between them.

Harry waited until the party was all but over, having hung back in the shadows for most of it, to give her his present. He was still trying to put his head around where he stood with Ginny. Part of him was in abject terror over the idea of being involved with her, both because of Voldemort and because of her. She had a vivacious personality, didn't tolerate him when he was being a prat and what's more, he could easily visualize himself falling completely head-over-heels for her.

He was sitting on the bench outside the kitchen door when he felt her step out onto the porch. "Happy birthday," he said.

Ginny sat beside him and relaxed against the Burrow's wooden wall. "Thanks."

They sat together in companionable silence, each aware of the other through the dampened connection, but neither seemed willing to press the link for more information.

"I got you a present," Harry said, presenting the brightly-coloured parcel to her.

"I was starting to wonder," she said as she started to pull the cellotape off the ends. Her hands stilled, the package still unopened. "Harry." He looked up at her then and she continued. "I'm sorry..."

"Don't," he interrupted quickly. "Don't apologize for what happened between us. If it wasn't for you, I'd have gone barmy a long time ago."

She smiled. It was the kind of smile that told Harry her happiness was because of him, that as long as they were friends, nothing could threaten it. His eyes darted involuntarily to her lips and he forced the urge to kiss her out of his mind. Not now, he told himself.

"I was going to say that I'm sorry I didn't get you anything fancy for your birthday," Ginny said.

Feeling a bit stupid, Harry leaned forward and fixed his gaze onto the shed in the distance. "Oh."

Still feeling her eyes one him, Harry resisted the urge to run back into the Burrow and hide until it was time to go back to Privet Drive.

A sudden crinkling of paper told him that Ginny was once again attacking the present. "Oh, Harry," she said brightly. "How did you know?"

He chanced a glance and looked over to see her holding an iridescent stuffed unicorn. Its horn was bright white and its tail twitched realistically while she held it. "Bill may have mentioned what happened to your old one."

She gave the animal a giant squeeze and nuzzled it with her nose. "It's not the same now that I'm grown, but it's so nice to have Powder back."

Harry raised an eyebrow at her, but didn't comment on her choice of names.

Gathering the discarded wrapping paper from the ground, Ginny reached over and gave Harry a hug. As they broke away, she lingered for a second to plant a kiss on his cheek, sending a wave of thoughts and emotions into his mind that weren't his.

Then, she walked back into the Burrow, letting the door close silently behind her and the buzzing in Harry's head stopped.

*

Harry walked back inside a while later and when he entered the living room, Mrs. Weasley was busy taking down the decorations from the party. "Harry, dear," she said with a collection of magical streamers in one hand and a box in the other. "Would you mind fetching Ginny for me? Dinner's about done and I've got to get these put away before I can set the table."

Not wanting to disappoint Mrs. Weasley, but also not willing to be alone with Ginny right away, Harry said, "I can set the table if you'd like."

Molly smiled and pushed the streamers into the box. "Never mind that, Harry. Just go fetch Ginny and we'll eat shortly."

Harry nodded and walked into the kitchen so he could ascend the stairs.

As he turned the corner and set foot on the landing, the buzzing returned and Harry heard strains of music coming from behind her door. It was the song, the tune that had haunted his thoughts for weeks. His fist was raised to knock on the partially open door, when Ginny started singing.

Black, black, black is the color of my true love's hair
His lips are something rosy fair
The sweetest face and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon he stands

For Black is the color of my true love's hair

His lips are something rosy fair
Has the sweetest face and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon he stands

I know my love and well he knows
I love the ground whereon he goes
And if in this life no more I see
My life shall surely leave me

Black, black, black is the color of my true love's hair
His lips are something rosy fair
The sweetest face and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon he stands

I go to the Clyde for to mourn and weep
But satisfied I ne'er can sleep
I'll write him a letter, a few short lines
I'll suffer death ten thousand times

Black, black, black is the color of my true love's hair
His lips are something rosy fair
The sweetest face and the gentlest hands
I love the ground whereon he stands

A winter's past and the leaves are green
The time has past that we have seen
But still I hope the time will come
When you and I will be as one

Black is the color of my true love's hair
His lips are like some rosy fair
The purest eyes and the neatest hands
I love the ground whereon he stands

Harry's breathing hitched as he listened and his head became inundated with Ginny's thoughts and feelings, yet he couldn't bring himself to shut it off and his head nearly burst from the sheer magnitude of what was coming across the link. He felt her love resonating in the words of the song, her love for him. If felt so familiar to him that he had no trouble placing it; it was exactly how he felt for her. He couldn't open the door, not now. He wasn't ready.

Staggering backwards, Harry fumbled for the stairs and descended as fast as he could, the foggy connection growing dimmer the further he walked. Remus was in the kitchen, helped Molly set the table.

"Moony," Harry croaked, holding onto a chair to keep his knees from collapsing.

"Harry?" Remus asked, moving over to see what the matter was. "Is everything all right?"

All eyes moved towards him. Ron looked confused and scared, probably thinking Harry was having another vision from Voldemort. Tonks had her wand out and was looking between him and the door. Molly was looking over Harry's shoulder and the buzzing in his head returned.

"I need to go," Harry ground out as the buzzing got louder. He didn't have the strength to fight it off now, even if he wanted to. "Now."

Remus pulled out the phone receiver and thrust it at Harry. "Take this. We'll get you back to bed."

Harry grabbed the plastic with a shaky hand and heard Moony speak again. "Probably just needs some rest." Then the Portkey activated and Harry slipped from consciousness, Ginny's singing still ringing clearly in his head.