Growing Up Weasley

Chapter 5. Stolen Kisses

Ron and Hermione hadn't witnessed the kiss-that-almost-wasn't, but both of them were intelligent enough to see what was in front of their eyes. Harry looked positively triumphant. And Ginny...well, Ginny was practically struck dumb in astonishment. So for the rest of the day, Ron tried to keep Harry away from his baby sister. He and Harry practiced quidditch - and Ron refused to let Ginny play. He and Harry (at Hermione's behest) cracked open their schoolbooks and studied potions - and Ron refused to let Ginny help, even though she could have done. He and Harry degnomed the garden - and Ginny refused to help. Hermione watched all of this with barely concealed amusement, and gave Ron a piece of her mind on Ginny's behalf.

The three of them, Ron, Hermione and Harry, had gone for a walk into Ottery St. Catchpole, so that they could talk unhindered by Ron's ever-watchful parents. Ginny had been kept back by her mother, who wanted to talk. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley did love Harry like another son, and they worried about him enough to make up for the Dursleys. The last thing they wanted to overhear was Harry's plan for his sixth year at Hogwarts. Ron and Hermione, though, were a bit more realistic. After all, one did not befriend Harry Potter lightly. Such friendship as they shared came about as a result of many harrowing experiences lived through together. They knew it was best to have some sort of plan for the year.

"Expect You-Know-Who's going to try to get into Hogwarts, Harry?" Ron asked.

Harry shook his head. "No. He knows Dumbledore is onto him. After last year...no." He shuddered reflexively at the memory of his fifth year. He'd thought nothing could be worse that watching Cedric Diggory die and doing wand-to-wand battle with Voldemort, but all of that was only a taste, a preview, of what had been in store for fifth year. Only, they'd all been on their guard last year. As bad as it had been, at least Harry'd been prepared. "I think - I think he'll try to get me alone again, like at the Triwizard tournament. He's getting stronger all the time, and he knows it. Maybe this time, since he's got my blood, he'll be stronger than me." He looked at his two closest friends, who'd both gone ashen-faced at his suggestion.

Hermione squared her shoulders and swallowed the bitter taste of fear that rose in her mouth. "Well that's it then. We'll make sure you never go anywhere alone. That way, maybe, well..."

Harry was shaking his head. "That's impossible, 'Mione. We have to sleep sometime. And there's no way you and Ron can be my bodyguards every waking moment. Even if you were -" he shrugged - "remember what happened to Cedric." Then he shrugged, and tried to lighten the mood. "Besides, you two wouldn't like having me around all the time. Think what it would be like having me sit in on your snog sessions." He shuddered playfully, then grinned as both Hermione and Ron turned beet red.

Hermione, at least, had her wits about her, and shot back, "Oh, I don't know. I think Ginny could keep an eye on you when Ron and I are busy." She smiled. "And I'm sure Ron would be happy for you to act as her protector." Her smile grew wider, and her eyes twinkled. "I don't suppose Ginny would mind it, either."

"Oy!" Ron cried, clapping his hands over his ears. "Do you mind, Hermione? That's my baby sister you're talking about."

"Oh, would you stop already?" she demanded, turning on him. "Ginny is not a baby, Ron. If you keep treating her like one, she's going to end up hating you. She's quite capable of making her own decisions, you know."

"I'm not treating her like a baby," he defended. "I'm trying to protect her, like a good brother should."

"You're going to suffocate her."

"I'm not!"

"You are!"

"You're only angry that I'm not trying to -"

"I'm angry that you..."

But Harry didn't hear the rest. As was their custom, Hermione and Ron were in the midst of a full-blown battle. Harry was no help in settling their arguments - no one was, really - and he found the easiest solution was to simply leave them alone until the battle was won. So he headed back toward the Burrow, deep in thought about this year and what he was going to do. So it was that he didn't even see a certain red-headed girl until he'd practically run her over.

"Harry!" she shouted, getting his attention as she jumped out of his way.

"What? Oh, hi, Gin. Sorry about that. I didn't see you."

She grinned. "Really." He looked a bit sheepish. Ginny thought she detected bigger thoughts in those famous green eyes, so she dropped the teasing. "Dad sent me to find you. He said he needed to speak to you about something, right away. I think he got an owl from Dumbledore." She furrowed her brow. "You seem worried, Harry. Is your scar hurting?" She wasn't stupid; she knew what Harry was thinking about, even without him explaining. He shook his head, but even so, his hand rose involuntarily to the lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. "You can tell me, Harry. Ron may think I'm fragile as a porcelain doll and should be kept in a glass case - look, but don't touch - but I promise, I won't break." She shrugged. "Well, I might, you know, if a rogue bludger hits me in a quidditch match -" they grinned at each other - "but other than that..." She left the invitation hanging in the air, and Harry took it.

"It's like this, Ginny," he began, then told her everything he'd talked about with Ron and Hermione, and some of his other thoughts, besides. She was a good listener. As they walked, she nodded, smiled, bit her lip, processed what he was saying, but didn't say a thing. Obviously unused to having such a non-judgmental listener, Harry poured forth perhaps a little more than he should have. "And now I have to worry about you, too."

She stopped walking, and he did, too. What on earth was that supposed to mean? she wondered. Was Harry about to take up the banner of Protector, along with her brothers? Dreadful, dreadful thought, that. "You needn't worry about me, Harry," she told him. "I've a whole family of worriers working round the clock."

"Well, yeah," he agreed, nodding, "but I'm the one who'll have to fend them all off if you take a bludger to the head in our match against Slytherin." He darted forward and, taking advantage of her bewildered state, stole another kiss. "See you later, Ginny," he said, and waved before walking out to the gardening shed where Arthur Weasley was tinkering and waiting for him.

Ginny stood still for a moment, watching Harry's receding back. Then she whooped for joy and waltzed into the house with a bright smile pasted across her face. She'd done it! She'd convinced Harry that she deserved a place on the Gryffindor team. Never mind the kiss just now. She was going to play quidditch, and no one was going to stop her.

Inside, she met up with her mum in the front room and gave Molly a happy kiss on the cheek. "Mum, I think this is the best day of my life. And it's not even my birthday!" she announced before finally coming to rest on the overstuffed loveseat in front of the large window. She wished she had her journal with her, but she didn't want to go all the way to her room to get it. Never mind, she thought. She'd write everything down later.

Sometimes Ginny thought she might be a bit of a procrastinator, but she figured she'd worry about her bad habits later.

For now, she wanted to think over her good fortune. She couldn't wait to get to school and put on those quidditch robes for the first time. And she was sure she was at least equal to any other player at school - better, if she let her ego inflate a bit.

Anyway, now that she had a moment to think about it, quidditch wasn't even the most important thing. The unthinkable had happened - twice! - and Ginny wondered why. It was obvious now, she thought, that Harry fancied her. After all, he'd kissed her, hadn't he? And he seemed to pay a good deal more attention to her this summer than he'd done in the past. Hermione had noticed right away. Her mother had cautioned her about it. Even Ron (who was infamous for his almost deliberate blindness to anything awkward or uncomfortable for him) had noticed a change in Harry's attitude toward Ginny. She wondered why.

Ginny knew she was pretty. Even before her bosom had burst to life, she'd gotten her fair share of attention from the boys at school. Her heavy red hair marked her as a Weasley, but Ginny liked her hair. It was (with the exception of her brothers) a mark of her individuality. And she could do the most interesting things with the long thick mass. She had a slight figure, for the most part, and clear pale skin the other girls envied (marred only by a light splash of freckles across her nose). Her big brown eyes were fringed with spiky ginger lashes - almost invisble lashes, really, but she liked them. Ivy Martin, who was a quarter veela and a quarter muggle and half witch, often told Ginny she had a pixyish face - which was apparently quite a compliment for muggles.

While not as beautiful as Ivy or as intimidatingly brilliant as Hermione or as relaxed and easy-going as Fred and George's friends Alicia and Katie, Ginny had developed a small following of her own. Neville, she knew, was besotted. But that was probably just because she'd gone to the Yule Ball with him when he asked. And Colin's little brother Dennis had developed a bit of a crush on her over the past year - rather like Harry had had on Cho Chang, to be honest.

Ginny grinned at that thought. She and Cho had volunteered to assist Madame Pomfrey several times last year and had become good friends. Cho had given Ginny any number of helpful hints about gently deflecting Dennis' adoration.

There were others, too: one Hufflepuff boy (a Muggle-born named Evan Miller), and a Ravenclaw she knew from Advanced Potions, George Montgomery. Perhaps she wasn't racking up admirers like her friend Ivy, but Ginny could hold her own when her dormitory got together for girl talk. Even so, Harry's newfound interest in her was - unexpected, to say the least.

Because Ginny really had gotten over her infant crush. Really. In her third year, actually, though no one would ever believe that. She had worked hard to think of Harry as a friend, and a friend of her brother at that. When Neville had asked her to the Yule Ball, she'd said yes with only the slightest twinge of regret. And her fourth year had done wonders for her self-esteem as she spent more time with her fellow classmates and less time with her brothers. She'd cultivated friendships outside of Gryffindor, too. She'd earned the grudging (very grudging) respect of Snape with her talent and skill at potion-brewing. She wasn't perfect, and she tended to lose her temper in Muggle Studies and with Madame Hooch, but she was, for the most part, a happy, self-confident student at Hogwarts.

Which was why she felt so mixed-up about Harry's sudden attention. True, he was one of the most sought-after boys at Hogwarts. True, her heart did do a little flip when he'd looked at her with those intense green eyes. True, the memory of his light kisses brought a smile to her lips. True, deep down (way deep down) she'd never completely quelled her feelings for him. Still, fancying Harry had never brought her anything but embarrassment and confusion. And her mother's warnings were still floating around in her head. And she couldn't imagine Ron's reaction - well, actually, she'd had a foretaste of it that morning. She could guess what he'd say if he actually saw Harry kissing her. And what would it be like if they were to...go out...when they got back to school? How would the other Gryffindors react? How would the other girls act? Would Harry fold under public scrutiny and pretend he didn't care a fig for her? Would she be a new target for attacks and (perish the thought!) for Voldemort?

This, Ginny mused, was why she put off thinking about things. "I'm going to see what Dad's working on," she informed her mother.

"Just a minute, Ginny," Molly said. Ginny stopped, halfway out the door, and turned. "I believe your father is talking to Harry just now. Why don't you sit down?"

Oh, no. Ginny just knew what was coming. "Mum, please," she begged. "don't do it."

"I think it's time we had a little mother-daughter chat, Ginny," she clucked. "Now I know I wasn't quite...tactful yesterday when I asked you to stay away from Harry. And anyway, I know you didn't heed my advice." Ginny gaped, and Molly smiled wisely. "I told you, dear, I see more than you children give me credit for." Ginny closed her mouth. "Don't worry. I'm not going to tell you about the birds and the bees. I hope you'll wait until you're married for that."

Ginny felt her ears go red and prayed no one would walk in on this little chat.

"I just want to say that your father and I love Harry like a son, and we trust him - and you. But Ginny, do be careful." A new note of concern crept into Molly's warm voice. "Harry doesn't go looking for trouble, but he still seems to find it. Bad enough Ron gets mixed up in it - But Ron is strong and brave and a true friend. You, on the other hand, are -" Molly saw the light of anger and annoyance flicker to life in her daughter's eyes and changed tack. "We want you to be careful, Ginny. Your father and I talked about it last night, and we know you're a grown girl now, quite capable of making your own decisions," this mollified Ginny somewhat, "so we just want you to be careful. Anyone close to Harry is bound to be a target, now the Dark Lord has risen again. We would," here Molly's voice wavered, "hate to lose you, my child. You are precious to us."

A tear sprung uninvited to Ginny's eye, and she dashed it away. That was the last thing she expected her mum to say. She was overwhelmed. She stood up and went to her mother. Hugging her close, she promised, "Don't worry, Mum. Nothing will happen to me. You won't lose me. Or Harry. I swear it."

Molly's own eyes glittered with unshed tears. "Go on with you, then. Go fetch Harry and make your brothers miserable." A hint of a grin brightened Molly's face, mirroring the one Ginny wore. "Don't imagine I'm unaware of what you're thinking, dear. Only give Ron a bit of a break and keep your snogging away from his poor eyes, will you?"

Thinking again that she'd like to be like her mother someday, Ginny scampered out of the house and toward the shed. It was high time she paid Harry back for those two unexpected kisses. Getting back at all six of her brothers for their unwelcome protection would just be an added bonus. And she'd worry about the consequences later.