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Author: Sovran Story: Meaning of One, Part Two: Chambers and Secrets Rating: Teens Setting: AU Status: Completed Reviews: 12 Words: 353,960
In spite of Dumbledore’s assurances about Harry’s innocence, the students continued to cast suspicious looks at him after the fake attack on the fourth-year Ravenclaw boys. Seamus Finnegan still slept with his wand next to his pillow, and Harry and Ginny found that they no longer had to manoeuvre their way through the corridors between lessons. Most students sidled away from Harry wherever he walked. Other than Luna, the Ravenclaws avoided him entirely. Fortunately, Harry had a few supporters. The Weasley twins and their friends found the entire situation hilarious. Fred and George in particular followed Harry through the corridors whenever they could, saying quite loudly that slipstreaming through his aura of evil made travelling much quicker. Neville continued to avoid Ginny and Harry, but that was no different from his normal behaviour that year. Even more so than usual, Harry and Ginny found that they only spent time with people who had long ago established themselves as friends. The following weekend, the third Quidditch match of the season distracted everyone in all four houses. All of the Hufflepuffs and Gryffindors supported Ravenclaw, though Harry and Ginny were not sure if that was because they were playing Slytherin or because they had so often been victims of the year’s mysterious events. Harry sat with Ginny and the other second-year girls, but Susan and Hannah were much more distant to him than they had been in the past. Unfortunately for the other three houses, Slytherin trounced Ravenclaw. Ginny and Harry had forgotten about Malfoy amidst their own problems, but they could not help noticing the change in his status after the match. For the rest of the day, the Slytherins treated Malfoy with their usual deference, and Malfoy’s arrogant smirk reappeared in full measure. “I hate to say it,” George said after the match, “but he might actually be the second-best Seeker in the school.” Ginny glared at him, and he hastily added, “Starting Seeker, I mean.” “Which is seriously depressing for the other two, really,” Fred said, shaking his head. After that, Oliver Wood put the Gryffindor team back on three practices per week, saying repeatedly that they would need to play their best in spite of the long break between their first and second matches. As far as Harry and Ginny could tell, their captain did not care if Harry rode Slytherin’s monster in the next game, provided he caught the Snitch. The fourteenth of February approached rapidly as Harry and Ginny endured their problems and practices. Harry had never paid much attention to Valentine’s Day in the past, and Ginny had only celebrated it as a child by making cards to send to all of her brothers. That year, however, they looked forward to the occasion. Perhaps, they thought, the rest of the students would be too preoccupied with each other to cast suspicious looks at him. They also felt a bit encouraged by the idea that, for one day of the school year, people might not think twice about their closeness. As they walked hand-in-hand down to breakfast, they thought that they were right. All around them, older boys and girls walked in pairs, holding hands or with their arms around each other. The girls wore flowers on their robes and huge smiles on their faces, and the boys had a certain smug look that complemented their grins. Only the younger students glanced at Harry and Ginny, and they seemed less hostile amidst the older students’ distraction. Several dozen students milled about at the entrance to the Great Hall, entering a few at a time rather than flowing into the room as usual. Harry and Ginny were unable to tell what was causing the delay until they reached the doors. Huge pink flowers, each one so blindingly bright that Harry wanted to shield his eyes, decorated the walls of the Great Hall. Pink confetti hearts slowly rained from the enchanted ceiling and disappeared a few inches above the food-laden tables. All of the students were sprinkled with pink spots, and only some of the girls seemed to enjoy the phenomenon. Swathes of pink fabric, decorated with more hearts which were somehow even pinker than the rest, festooned the staff table. Confetti was falling there, too, and Dumbledore was holding up a frilly purple umbrella to shield himself. Further down the table, Professor Lockhart was attracting every eye in a set of shocking pink robes that perfectly matched the flowers on the walls. He beamed at everyone as they entered the Hall. The other professors, however, looked far less pleased. Professor McGonagall had found some invisible way to keep the confetti from landing on her, but her eyes were deadly cold, and a muscle in her cheek was twitching uncontrollably. On the other side of the table, Snape had also blocked the confetti, but his impassive expression was ruined by the dull red colour suffusing his features. Harry and Ginny sat in their usual places across from Hermione and Ron, who were sitting with an empty seat between them. Ron looked utterly disgusted, and Hermione giggled constantly behind her hand. Ginny could not quite tell if the older girl was pleased with the decorations or simply stifling laughter at the entire situation. When everyone was seated, Lockhart sprang to his feet and waved his wand in front of him, reducing the storm of confetti to a pink drizzle. “Good morning!” he shouted. “Good morning, everyone! Things have been a bit nervous around here lately, so I thought we could all use a happy diversion. And I asked myself, what could possibly be more joyous than Valentine’s Day? So here we are!” Some of the students applauded, including Hermione, but Harry and Ginny merely shook their heads. Thanks a lot, you arrogant plonker, Ginny said. The day was going to go splendidly without you. Lockhart continued as the applause faded. “First, I’d like to thank each and every one of the forty-five people who’ve sent me a Valentine’s card today. I promise I will treasure them all.” Ginny glanced at Hermione, who would not meet her gaze. “You didn’t!” “No, I did not.” Ginny raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t!” Hermione said. Then she exhaled in a rush. “I wanted to. I was actually going to, and then I found out that Lavender and Parvati and dozens of others were doing it, and I just couldn’t. Happy?” Harry reached across the table and patted her hand. “Thanks, Hermione.” “Don’t thank me,” she muttered, looking cross. “It was your expression I wouldn’t have been able to stand if I’d done it.” “— festivities ahead of us, boys and girls,” Lockhart continued as Harry and Ginny returned their attention to the professor. “For those of you who might not be able to acquire gifts on your own, I have brought in a selection of sweets, flowers, and charmed cards. You can come by my office to purchase them at a very modest price. But wait! I know what you’re thinking: ‘How am I going to send my gift to that special someone? They don’t even know I exist!’” Lockhart paused, and some of the students twittered in laughter. He winked broadly. “Don’t worry, I know you exist. And I have an answer to your prayers!” He clapped his hands twice, and the doors to the Great Hall swung open. A dozen sour-faced dwarfs marched into the Hall, each one wearing pink wings and carrying a golden harp. “What the-?” Ron muttered, recoiling from the hideous apparitions. “My friendly, card-carrying cupids!” Lockhart shouted. “They’ll be roving around the school today delivering your Valentines. If you’d like to hire one, just come by my office. They can reach your beloved in the corridors, in the common rooms, on the grounds… almost anywhere! You can be absolutely sure that your message will be delivered with flair and heartfelt sincerity. “But that’s not all! I’m sure the rest of my colleagues will be more than happy to help you in your labour of love. Why not ask Professor Snape to whip you up a harmless little love potion? See if Professor Sinistra can help you map out your darling’s name in the stars! And by the way, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I’ve ever met, the sly old dog!” Madam Hooch turned in her seat to glare at Professor Flitwick. The tiny man smiled nervously and shook his head at everyone around him. Then he leaned over to Madam Hooch and began whispering urgently. “Now eat! Drink! Be merry! Treat your sweetheart to something sweet from the heart. And if you need any more pointers,” Lockhart winked again, “come and see me!” The girls in the room applauded again as he sat down, but Hermione did not join them. Instead, she leaned across the table towards Harry and spoke in a hurried whisper. “Harry, you need to do something for Ginny.” He started to respond, heat rising in his face, but Hermione held up her hand and continued. “You don’t have to get anything from Professor Lockhart, and you certainly don’t have to hire one of those poor dwarfs. But you need to at least make a card or something. People will think it very strange if you don’t.” “Hermione!” Harry said, half-growling. “I am doing something for Ginny, and we’ve been thinking about it for weeks. Now be quiet!” Hermione flushed deeply and dropped her gaze to the table. “Oh,” she said in a tiny voice. She bit her lip and looked up again, still beet-red. “Sorry, Harry.” He sighed. “It’s fine. Just…” He tilted his head towards Ginny, who remained carefully focused on her plate. “I have a really good reminder for that sort of thing, okay?” “Of course. I… Right, never mind. Sorry.” Harry sighed. “Don’t be, really. If it were anything else, I probably would need you to remind me. Sorry for jumping on you.” Hermione gave them both a weak smile in return. “What is it you’re doing, then?” Ron asked Harry, looking suspicious. “None of your business,” Ginny said. Ron’s expression grew stubborn, and she rolled her eyes. “Nothing stupid or weird, Ron. Don’t worry about it.” Harry and Ginny spent the rest of the morning in the common room. Hermione used the time to re-read the last few chapters of her Herbology book, but Ginny, Harry, and Ron decided that Valentine’s Day was sufficient excuse for a day off from revising. Instead, they huddled around Ron’s latest copy of Which Broomstick discussing an article about the new broom rumoured to be under development by Frederick Flyte, who had once been co-owner of Flyte & Barker Broomsticks. “I hope it’s better than the Twigger,” Ginny said, watching a drawing of the supposed broom design as it rotated on the page. “It’d have to be, wouldn’t it?” Ron said. “Everyone always said that Barker was barking, so maybe there’s hope.” Throughout the morning, Harry and Ginny watched and laughed as the occasional dwarf burst into the common room to deliver a package or a bouquet of flowers or a card. The recipients were mostly girls, who seemed pleased with the gifts, but one sixth-year boy looked decidedly uncomfortable when a dwarf accosted him. “Can you imagine?” Harry whispered in Ginny’s ear as Ron squinted at the tiny advertisements in the back of the magazine. I would never send one of those things. They had planned to speak aloud, at least for the most part, so that everyone else could see them interacting more-or-less normally. “Oh, I think it’s sweet,” Ginny whispered back. “Not exactly pretty, but sweet.” Is there something you’re not telling me? Harry asked, grunting sceptically. She swatted his chest and grinned. Don’t be ridiculous. “Think about it. How could you not take someone seriously after they went to the trouble to send one of those dwarfs? It’s not exactly subtle.” “That bloke looked mortified.” “Yes, but I bet he’s thinking about whoever sent it to him. That might be all she wanted.” “Well, yeah, but is he thinking about her the way she wanted?” Harry asked. What do you suppose would happen if we sent one to Dumbledore and made it sound like it was from… I dunno… Madam Pomfrey or something? She’d kill us if she found out we did it. Might be worth it, though. At two o’clock, they strolled down to Professor McGonagall’s office, but she asked to skip that day’s meeting. The professors were all very busy with Lockhart’s dwarfs, she said, in addition to the usual issues unique to Valentine’s Day. Blushing slightly, Harry and Ginny promised not to hire a dwarf or to sneak off to remote locations in the castle, and then they left the professor to her work. Rather than going directly back to the common room, they visited Hedwig in the owlery and gave her a few scraps of bacon from breakfast. Then they strolled around the seventh floor, looking out of the high windows and simply enjoying each other’s company. The seventh floor was far from deserted, but the other students and teachers did not bother them. After only one unexpected encounter with a pair of fifth-years, Harry and Ginny avoided walking too close to any secluded alcoves or narrow side-corridors. As they rounded the corner nearest Gryffindor Tower, they found Luna watching a painting of a windswept tree. “Hi, Luna,” Ginny said. “Oh, hello,” Luna said. She glanced at them and cocked her head to one side. “Is today special for you? As two, I mean.” Ginny blinked. “Well… yes, a bit. Shouldn’t it be?” “I don’t see any reason why not.” “Oh.” Ginny paused, searching for something else to say that might make sense. “Did you send anyone a Valentine?” Luna furrowed her brow. “No, I didn’t. I considered it, but I decided that any boy I might fancy would probably not appreciate having my message delivered by a dwarf.” See? Harry asked. Hush. “Why not?” “Well, I simply don’t think that embarrassing a boy would be a good way to send him a positive message. I would rather not send it and hope that he appreciates my restraint.” “That’s… that’s very considerate of you,” Ginny said. “Thank you.” Luna looked up and down the corridor, which was momentarily deserted. “Enjoy your day, Alex.” Smiling, she waved at them and wandered away. At dinner that evening, the lighting in the Great Hall was dimmer than usual, making the stars outside seem bright and close. The house tables were populated with couples in an odd checkerboard pattern which allowed each pair of students to have a bit of privacy. Scattered amongst the couples were larger groups of people who presumably had no partners or did not care about being alone with them. Harry and Ginny chose a place several feet away from a raucous group made up of Gryffindor second- and fourth-years. A few minutes later, Hermione joined them, and they all ate in companionable silence. Halfway through the meal, a small group of post owls swept into the room and descended on the various tables carrying cards and packages. Hedwig’s white plumage stood out sharply, and she drifted down on silent wings to drop a package in front of Ginny. Then she landed on Harry’s shoulder and nipped his ear. “Oh, Harry,” Ginny said, wide-eyed. “For me?” That expression shouldn’t fool anyone. “Well… yeah.” I bet it works, though. It always does. Up and down the tables, similar scenes played out, and Ginny was sure that she and Harry were not drawing too much attention. She opened the package and found the box of Honeydukes’ Best Chocolates they had given to Hedwig that afternoon. Ginny squealed a little, genuinely delighted to have a box of her favourite indulgences, and then she leaned over to hug Harry and kiss his cheek. “Thank you, Harry,” she said in a normal voice. “Thank you so much.” “You’re welcome, Ginny. I hope you like them.” No problem there. Ginny lifted the lid and selected a chocolate. It was every bit as good as they remembered. “I love them,” she said aloud. I love you, too. Harry smiled and ducked his head. From the corner of his eye, he caught Hermione watching them. The older girl’s expression was an odd mixture of amusement, affection, exasperation, and a tiny hint of longing. Can I give them to her here? Sure. Just say the right things. He nodded and pulled a small box of six chocolates out of his pocket. It was wrapped in pale blue paper, unlike Ginny’s white paper and pink ribbon. “Here you are, Hermione,” Harry said, reaching across Ginny to push the box towards her. “Friends can give Valentines, too.” Hermione picked up the box, her expression brightening a bit. Ginny leaned over to whisper in her ear. “And every girl deserves some of this chocolate.” “Thank you, Harry,” Hermione said with a warm smile. Ginny picked up another chocolate and pushed it into Harry’s mouth. A loud gagging noise came from somewhere nearby, but she did not bother to determine which of her brothers had made it. Bit over the top, don’t you think? Harry asked as he chewed. Just making sure everyone gets the right message. She leaned over and kissed his flushed cheek again. And your expression is very convincing now. A few minutes later, groups and couples began to drift out of the Hall. Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson paraded down the centre aisle on their way out, both wearing outfits that were a few steps more formal than anyone else’s. The brown-haired girl was smiling and had her hand on Malfoy’s elbow, but she walked with a significant gap between their bodies. As soon as the two Slytherins reached the centre of the long hall, a commotion at the high table attracted Harry’s attention. The pink fabric covering the front of the table parted directly in front of Dumbledore, and one of Lockhart’s dwarfs sprang out of the opening. He sprinted down the aisle, his wide feet making loud slapping noises. He passed Draco and Pansy and then spun around to stand in their path. “Draco Malfoy?” the dwarf asked in a gravelly voice. Malfoy scowled. “What?” “I’ve got a Valentine for you.” “Fine, hand it over,” Malfoy said, reaching out commandingly. “Can’t. It’s a message I’m supposed to say for you.” Ginny immediately looked to Pansy, who was watching Draco and the dwarf with a glowing smile. I almost feel sorry for him. Not quite. “A message? What sort of message?” The dwarf grunted and waved its harp. “What kind do you think?” “Fine. Come along.” Malfoy started to walk around the dwarf, but the broad little man sidestepped to block his path. “Nope. Gotta deliver it here, that’s my job.” “Well, forget it,” Malfoy said. He released Pansy, who was starting to look a bit nervous, and darted around the dwarf before striding quickly down the aisle. “Oi!” the dwarf shouted. He ran up behind Malfoy, grabbed the top of one of his black boots, and shoved him with the other meaty hand. Malfoy fell forwards, and the dwarf flipped him easily onto his back. Then the dwarf walked up his body and placed one oversized boot in the middle of Malfoy’s chest. “I’m supposed to deliver this message right here, and that’s what I’m gonna do.” The dwarf cleared his throat and read from a small card. “’Dear Draco: You’ve grown up a lot since I met you, and you’re getting more and more handsome every day.’” Draco struggled, but the dwarf shifted his weight, and the blond boy stilled. “’Your eyes are so enchanting. I could stare into them for hours and hours. I only hope you like me as much as I like you. I can’t wait for our future together. Hugs and kisses, Pansy.’” Everyone in the Hall was listening, and for a brief moment no one spoke. The dwarf leaned down over Draco, sniffed loudly, and said, “You stink, mate. Worse than my uncle’s favourite socks.” He jerked his head towards Pansy. “If she still says all that about you when you smell like this, you should hang on to her. Take a shower, though. Or see a Healer. Anything to get rid of that stench.” The dwarf’s face twisted into a grimace of disgust as he dropped the card on Malfoy’s chest and strode away towards the door. The entire Hall burst into laughter. Malfoy got up, shot Pansy a look of purest loathing, and sprinted out of the Hall. Pansy hurried after him, her eyes glistening. Harry and Ginny leaned over the table, gasping for breath amidst their laughter. All around them, the Gryffindors roared with mirth, and the twins were already doing exaggerated imitations of the dwarf’s message and Malfoy’s reaction. Oh, I needed that, Ginny gasped. “Quiet, please.” Dumbledore’s calm voice rang in the Hall, easily carrying over the laughter and talking. Within a few moments, the room was mostly quiet, though Harry, Ginny, and several others had to hold their hands over their mouths. “It seems that what is joyful for one is not so joyful for others,” Dumbledore said, glancing down the table at Lockhart. “The day’s events are hereby concluded. I wish you all the best for this day and every day of the future.” He waved his wand, and the pink decorations vanished as the lighting brightened to a normal level. Many more students got up and left the Hall, but Harry and Ginny waited until they could control their expressions. “You know something, don’t you?” Hermione asked in an urgent whisper. The rest of the Gryffindors nearby stood up from their chairs, and Harry signalled Ron to join them. The red-haired boy dropped into the seat on Harry’s other side, grabbing a pink-frosted cupcake from the tray. Ginny told Hermione and Ron about the boiled eggs she had planted in Malfoy’s dormitory. “We knew they’d take a while to really stink,” she said, “but we’re amazed that he hasn’t found them yet. From what we can see, the other Snakes have been avoiding him for at least two weeks.” “Ginny, that’s just awful!” Hermione said. The corners of her lips tightened as she fought a smile. “Come on, Hermione,” Harry said. “You know how he treated you when he thought you were her. Do you really think she’s worse off without him?” “No, of course not. She might, though. Somehow.” Ginny and Harry shrugged. “She can try to sort it out with him if she wants to,” he said. “I’m really surprised that she followed him,” Ginny said, nodding with a hint of admiration. “I would’ve expected her to bolt the other way when it was over.” “It was her own fault,” Harry added. “We did the eggs, but the dwarf was all Pansy.” “It was brilliant, all of it,” Ron said, wiping his fingers on Harry’s napkin. “I don’t care what happens to them, but that was ruddy brilliant. He brought it on himself, if you ask me. Only an arrogant arse like Parkinson would have that message delivered in the middle of the Great Hall.” Hermione frowned at Ron and waved a hand impatiently. “I’m not particularly bothered about them, honestly. But I can’t help feeling a bit sorry for Pansy.” “Not me,” Ginny said. “Do you think she’d like him if she didn’t agree with him? About blood purity and Slytherin’s monster and all of that rot? She deserves every bit of it.” They caught themselves before they told Hermione that Malfoy hoped she would be the monster’s next target. Hermione seemed to have given up on defending the Slytherins, and the knowledge could not possibly help her. “Come on,” Harry said, pushing himself up from the table. “Let’s get out of here.” After some time spent relaxing in the common room and sharing chocolates, Hermione had forgotten her bout of sympathy. Harry told the twins about the eggs Ginny had planted, and all six of them laughed at Malfoy’s predicament over the previous weeks. That evening, once everyone else had settled into their beds and both second-year dormitories were quiet, Ginny Shifted to their bed. Harry had already produced Bun-bun, but he put the rabbit next to Ginny’s pillow rather than handing it to her as he usually did. He braided her hair with the easy skill of frequent practice, and then they lay down together. Harry propped himself up on one elbow and looked down at Ginny. There was just enough moonlight filtering in from the top of the enclosed bed to show the muted glow of her hair and a hint of the brown in her eyes. Looking up at him, they could see nothing but his silhouette, but she felt his tentative smile. Is it silly of us to plan everything out and wait for things we know are coming? Harry asked. I don’t think so. Why can’t we have a few things that at least look normal? She shrugged. We’d never get any special occasions if we didn’t create them for ourselves. Very eloquent, Ginevra. Thank you, Harry. Still smiling, Harry lowered his head until their lips touched. Neither had ever kissed anyone on the lips before, and for a few moments they were still. The familiar softnesses of their lips were magnified as they touched, and that indescribably intense sensation mixed with the lingering taste of chocolate and the warmth of their shared breath. The combination thrilled them more than anything they had felt since their first moments together. The new, more detailed sensations raced back and forth between them as Ginny’s mouth touched Harry’s touching hers touching his. After a few moments they did move, letting their lips slide slowly against each other before they separated, and a tiny, electrifying thrill travelled to the core of their being. They settled down to sleep, their minds glowing with warmth and pleasure and affection that far surpassed any special occasion, any contrived situation, and any possible words. From that day onwards, Harry and Ginny could not imagine going back to a time when they did not kiss each other. Each night before they went to sleep, Harry leaned over and brushed his lips against Ginny’s. The feeling was so powerfully intoxicating that they feared becoming addicted to it if they were not careful, but that one kiss each night was more than enough to keep them happy. A few days later, something significant happened amongst the Slytherins. All Harry and Ginny really knew was that one day, Malfoy was completely ignoring Pansy Parkinson and the rest of the Slytherins were giving him a wide berth. The next day, Malfoy had regained most of his hauteur. Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle were treating him as deferentially as they always had, and the rest of the house was noticeably subdued. Sharing lessons with him showed Harry and Ginny that he had finally got rid of the rotting eggs, but they were sure there was more to the story than that. They briefly considered asking Professor McGonagall during their next meeting, but they realised very quickly how stupid that would be. Instead, they let the professor lead them to the next step of their informal lessons, which was to control the duration of the dough-balls they conjured. Fortunately, working on duration did not require much actual time. They simply cast a dough-ball, and the professor conjured a tag showing the time at which it had been created. Harry and Ginny were dismayed when their first dough-ball vanished after less than ten minutes. “Do not worry,” Professor McGonagall said. “That was quite a respectable duration for your first focused attempt.” “It was?” Ginny asked. She had cast the spell with Harry’s wand, and she stared at the flagstone where the dough had been. “I should think that was obvious. If you recall, Miss Lovegood’s conjurations lasted only a bit longer, and she has been using this spell for that purpose for years.” Harry nodded. “That’s true. It’s just… well, we’ve done transfigurations that lasted a lot longer, so we expected this to be the same.” “What sort of transfiguration?” McGonagall asked, cocking her head to one side. Harry transformed a serviette into a tiny, pink stuffed rabbit. He placed the miniature on the table between them and shrugged. “Like this, only bigger.” “Ah, yes. Poppy mentioned this to me, but I had forgotten.” The professor eyed the bunny and then picked it up to examine it more closely. “How long does this creation of yours last?” “More than eight hours, but less than a day,” Ginny said. McGonagall squeezed the toy and then set it upright in her palm as she hefted it. “How much bigger, would you say? Ten inches, perhaps?” “That sounds right,” Ginny said. “Maybe a foot.” “I see.” The tall woman stared at the rabbit for several moments, saying nothing. When she finally looked back at Harry and Ginny, her eyes somehow looked younger. “May I keep this?” “Sure,” Harry said. “It was yours to start with.” See? Everyone likes Bun-bun, Ginny said, grinning internally. “Thank you. Thank you very much.” McGonagall tucked the toy into her pocket. “To answer your question, your dough-balls do not last as long because they are conjured, rather than transfigured. Conjuration is a branch of Transfiguration, but it is generally more difficult. However, the fact that you are able to make your transfiguration last so long indicates that, with practice, you will be able to achieve similar success with Conjuration. “Now, cast the spell again, and this time, think of the dough as being very durable. It may help to use a denser mixture at first.” When they had cast another pair of dough-balls, McGonagall settled into her chair with a more grave expression. “If I may ask, Harry, how have the other students treated you over the past few weeks?” “Erm… not too bad, I suppose. Some people don’t talk to me anymore, like Seamus, but most just look at me oddly.” Harry shrugged. “We’ve become used to it.” “It’s not fair, though,” Ginny said, scowling. “Everyone knows Harry didn’t do anything. Why should they treat him that way?” McGonagall sighed. “Humans are fickle creatures, Ginny. In a time of great doubt and fear, such as this one, we seek any available answer because simply having an answer is comforting. Think back to this summer and the problems you had with your pyjamas. It does not matter that the answer is unjustified or even irrational. We cling to it because we need it in some way.” “But some people don’t think like that,” Harry said. “Ginny’s brothers, Hermione, Luna… they don’t believe it at all.” “True enough. Those are people who know you well, and to them the idea that you attacked anyone without justification is completely unthinkable. It is not an answer for them in the slightest way, so they find no comfort in it. They’re still concerned about the attacks, but they know you, and they accept the uncertainty because of how they feel about you. Everyone else… well, they seek any comfort they can find. It is not wise, but it is quite human.” Ginny grinned. “You sound like Professor Dumbledore.” “I suppose I do,” McGonagall said, nodding. “Whatever his flaws, he has taught many valuable lessons to many people. Regardless, I suspect that most of the antagonism towards you will fade as time goes by. Try to remember that, and try to recognise when things have improved for you.” Harry and Ginny strove to remember their professor’s advice over the next few days, and they indeed found that some of the tension in the castle had abated. Valentine’s Day seemed to have lightened the students’ overall mood, though Lockhart had not really contributed to that effect. In fact, the weather might have been more responsible. The air was bitingly cold, but the sky was sunny for several days. The Headmaster had declared that the temporary snow-shelter — without its stone lining and additional comforts — should remain on the grounds until it melted. The structure became the site of many great snowball battles and, according to the older students, several Care of Magical Creatures lessons. On the first of March, Errol flew into the Great Hall with the rest of the post owls. The aging bird missed the table in front of Ron, and the tall boy flushed as he scooped the owl up from the floor amid the other students’ laughter. Tied to Errol’s leg were a letter from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and a small parcel. Ginny watched as Ron opened the letter, but she was distracted when a striking Tawny Owl silently swept down and perched on the table next to Hermione. The owl was much shorter than Hedwig but just as broad, and its plumage mixed brown and white in an oddly mottled pattern. Large pale discs surrounded its eyes, and its beak hooked into a sharp point. The bird stood on the edge of the table, staring at the students as though it did not entirely approve of their existence. A small scroll was tied to its leg, and it stood on top of a package it had carried in its claws. “Oh, hello,” Hermione said to the owl. It turned its head to look directly at her. She pointed to the letter and package. “Err… could I have those, please?” With a slight twitch of its feathers, the owl hopped off of the package and held out its leg. Hermione untied the letter and offered the owl a scrap of bacon. The Tawny devoured the bacon with several sharp snaps of its beak and then returned to staring at Hermione. Glancing cautiously at the owl, Hermione unrolled the letter and began to read. Within seconds, her eyes grew as wide and round as the bird’s. “Benedick!” she said, turning back to the owl. It fluffed its feathers again and blinked at her. Hermione turned to Harry and Ginny, excitement bubbling in her features. “His name is Benedick. He belongs to my parents!” “That’s great, Hermione,” Ginny said. The other girl waved her hand as she read the rest of the letter. She gasped halfway through and then laughed softly. Finally, she set the letter down and gave Benedick another scrap of bacon. “There are two of them,” Hermione said, beaming at the owl. “Benedick here, and Beatrice, his mate.” “Two?” Harry asked. “Why?” “Well, Mother says that they went to Diagon Alley with Mr. Weasley to pick out an owl. They wanted a Tawny Owl because those are most common in Cambridge, and they told the man at the shop about the hidden house that Mr. Weasley had built in our garden. They wanted to get an owl who wouldn’t mind living outside and only coming to the house to get or deliver letters. “So the man at Eeylops told them that he had a pair of owls. He’d bought them separately, but while they were in the shop they bonded, and owls mate for life. So he ended up with the two of them, and very few people need two owls. He told my parents that he’d sell them both owls for the price of one, and since they’re mated, they probably wouldn’t mind having their own little house.” Hermione moved her brimming goblet towards Benedick, and he dipped his pointed beak into the pumpkin juice. “My father spent the summer talking to Hedwig,” she continued, “so he just walked up and asked them if they’d like to live in a special house in a garden in Cambridge. Beatrice nodded, and that was that.” “Wow,” Ron said. “I bet Dad was thrilled.” “He had to expand the habitat a bit more, but apparently that wasn’t hard.” Hermione shifted her gaze to Ginny. “Mother says they asked your father not to tell you anything so that they could surprise me.” “Oh, that’s fine, Hermione,” Ginny said. She reached across the table to squeeze the other girl’s hand, but Benedick gave a shrill kew-wick and snapped at her fingers. “Ow!” “Sorry,” Hermione said. “Mother says they’re a bit territorial, but they got used to your father after a bit.” Ginny nodded as she and Harry examined her hand. The owl had not broken the skin, but there was a lurid red mark where it had pinched her. “Benedick, these are my friends,” Hermione said, looking directly into the owl’s eyes. “Their names are Ginny, Harry, and Ron. I would very much appreciate it if you did not bite them. They’re not going to hurt you or me.” Benedick blinked a few times and then rotated his head to stare across the Hall. “I’d like to write back to my parents,” Hermione said to the back of his head. “Would you mind waiting at the owlery until I can bring you a letter?” Without any sound or acknowledgement, Benedick spread his wings and flew out of the Hall. “Your owl’s a bit of a prat, Hermione,” Ron said. “He is not! He simply has character, like Hedwig. She’s nipped at all of us before.” “What’s in the package?” Harry asked, knowing they were both right and hoping to divert them from an argument. “Ron’s birthday present,” Hermione said waspishly, tucking the parcel into her bag. “You’ll have to wait until later, Ron.” That evening they had an impromptu celebration for Ron in the Gryffindor common room. Hermione’s gift to him was a three-dimensional chess set that her father had found, and Ron wasted no time in setting up the tiered board and diving into a book of rules and directions. Harry and Ginny had simply renewed her brother’s subscription to Which Broomstick, so they were not the least bit offended when he proceeded to ignore them for the rest of the evening. Two weeks later, Hufflepuff and Slytherin had their Quidditch match, and Harry and Ginny once again watched the game alongside a group of other girls. They huddled into their cloaks, trying to keep out the damp chill in the air, and cheered as much as they could for the Hufflepuff squad. Unfortunately for Susan and Hannah, the game ended in less than an hour, and Slytherin won 190-20. “That gives us a grand total of seventy points for the season,” Hannah said sadly as they all walked back up to the castle. “The team is absolute rubbish this year.” “Cheer up,” Hermione said. “You’ve still got one game left to play, after all.” Hannah rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, we do. Against Gryffindor.” She jerked a thumb at Harry, who had been quiet for most of the game. “I love my house, but if Harry and the rest don’t beat us, I’ll eat my wand.” With a start, Ginny and Harry realised that that was the first time Hannah had mentioned him or addressed him without any trace of caution. Harry grinned and shrugged, silently hoping it was a good sign. Ogden’s just too slow, he said. He tries hard, and he’s not a bad flier, but he was never going to be able to catch Malfoy on that broom. Or us, Ginny said. I can’t bear to tell Hannah that, though. I’m sure she knows it already. “May I bring salt to the game?” Padma asked Hannah in her quiet voice. “For your wand, you know. Just in case.” “You think your lot will do any better when it’s your turn?” Hannah asked, feigning outrage. “Nope,” Parvati said, beaming. “I bet Ravenclaw lose even worse than Hufflepuff do.” “The Snitch can go anywhere,” Ginny said. “You never know what’ll happen.” Padma shrugged. “She’s probably right, though.” “Does it really matter that much?” Hermione asked, looking around at the other girls. “We’re not going to rip each others’ heads off, no matter what happens.” “That’s reassuring,” Luna said, speaking for almost the first time that day. “I wasn’t entirely certain.” Susan rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, Luna…” “She’s serious,” Padma said, shaking her head and smiling. As the group neared the castle, the crowd separated them, and Harry and Ginny found themselves walking with Luna while the others pulled ahead. “Are you and Padma getting along well?” Ginny asked. “I suppose so,” Luna said. “We’re not friends like you and I are, but we talk a bit sometimes. I don’t think she quite knows what to think of me, but that’s okay. I don’t always know what to think of myself.” “Would it be as much fun if you always knew what to think of someone else?” Ginny asked, elbowing Luna. “I don’t know. Is it?” Harry chuckled as they worked out her logic. “Well, yes, it is.” “There you are, then.” Luna’s vague smile faded. “I think she still suspects you, though, Harry. I’ve tried to reassure her, but I suppose she’s frightened and wants to believe something.” “Yeah,” Harry said, marvelling at their friend’s uncanny ability to say such things in so few words. Professor McGonagall’s version had been much longer. Once they reached the castle, the group split up and returned to their respective common rooms. Ginny was looking forward to shedding her cloak and being comfortably warm and dry without its cumbersome weight. She and her dorm-mates all went up to their room, and Ginny carefully faced her wardrobe as she put away her cloak. That morning, she had picked out an old, thick jumper to wear under her cloak. It was excellent for layering, but it was a bit too faded for Ginny to want to wear it by itself. After sitting outside for over an hour, it was damp and uncomfortable. She pulled it over her head and tossed it into the bottom of her wardrobe. Beneath it, she wore the t-shirt that Charlie had sent to Harry for Christmas. You know, I never actually got to wear that shirt, Harry said teasingly, dropping into a chair in a corner of the common room, well away from anyone who might be concerned about his proximity. Do you want to? I might. Ginny smiled into her wardrobe. If you do, you can. Otherwise, what’s wrong with me wearing it? Nothing, I suppose. Then hush. She picked out her Christmas jumper from the previous year. She put her arms through it and started to pull it on, but Hermione’s voice stopped her. “Ginny, wait.” “What?” she asked, still holding the jumper half-on and facing into her wardrobe. “The others have gone, you can turn around.” Ginny lowered her arms, letting the jumper bunch around her wrists, and turned to Hermione. “What is it, Hermione?” The older girl looked at her intently for a few moments, and then she walked around the beds to stand directly in front of her. “Ginny, you…” She trailed off into a sigh. “What?” Ginny asked for the third time, puzzled by her friend’s expression. Hermione took a deep breath and spoke in a whisper. “Ginny, you need a bra.” Harry and Ginny both felt heat rising into their faces. Trying not to attract any attention, Harry darted back up to his dormitory and sat on his bed. “Are… are you sure?” Ginny asked in a small voice, swallowing heavily. Hermione gave her a very direct look. “Yes, I’m sure. You probably should have got one a while ago. And I think you know it.” Ginny finished pulling on her jumper and crossed her arms, avoiding Hermione’s eyes. “Maybe. We’ve been busy, though.” “Ginny!” Hermione said, amused. “It’s not a big deal. Just get one and wear it. I should think you’d be happy about it.” The two girls sank onto Ginny’s bed side-by-side, and Ginny picked at a loose thread on her jeans. “I am.” She looked up at Hermione, who eyed her sceptically. “I really am. I was starting to think I’d be four foot nothing and flat as a board for the rest of my life. It’s just…” “What?” Hermione asked in a more serious tone. “How do you suppose I’d get a bra, Hermione?” Ginny asked. “What do you mean, how? You’d just write a letter to —” Her mouth snapped shut. “Oh.” “Exactly.” Ginny sighed and fell backwards on the bed. “I’d write a letter to Mum.” “Do you really think that would be a problem?” Hermione asked, turning to face her. “Well, no, not in some ways. I know she’d want to help, and she’d be happy that I asked. Thrilled, even.” “So?” Ginny shrugged and pulled her hair out from under her back. “I’m worried about how it would go, I suppose. I think she would just take me to the shop and be done with it, but I’m just not sure anymore. She’s become really… you know… unpredictable.” Hermione nodded. “I see.” “What if she gets all weepy about it? I don’t mind, most times, but I know she’s worried about me, what with… well, Harry and all. So she might just lose it and make me sit in her lap for half an hour while she cries about her baby girl growing up too quickly.” “That’s not such an unusual thing for a mother to do, you know,” Hermione said with a faint grin. “I know it’s not, but this is my mum. She seems to go overboard about almost everything these days.” “You’d survive it, though.” Ginny scowled slightly. “But what if she decides that we need to have a serious talk about how my body’s going to change and what it means?” Hermione stifled a chuckle with her hand. “I can see how you might not enjoy that, Harry.” Exactly. “Right,” Ginny said. “And she’s told me all of that before. I mean, not quite everything, you know, but enough.” The two girls were quiet for a few moments before Ginny spoke again. “And I can’t just owl-order a bra or go to the shop myself. Mum would be absolutely devastated. I want her to go with me, just like every other mother does for her daughter.” Hermione shrugged. “It sounds like you just need to do it, Ginny.” “But…” Ginny dredged up another worry, trying to postpone the inevitable. “She’s so weird about Harry. She got a bit better towards the end of the summer, and our letters have been friendly enough. But I can tell she’s still really upset about everything. What if this ruins it all again?” Ginny looked over at Hermione and sighed. “We’re so tired of starting over with her, Hermione.” “I can understand that,” Hermione said. “But tell me this: how long have you known this was coming?” Ginny looked away and lowered her voice to a mumble. “I first noticed ‘round Christmas, and I know I should have done something about it by now. You don’t have to say it.” “Coward.” Ginny surged up onto her elbows and turned to face Hermione again. “What?” The older girl was grinning slightly, but she had a certain stubborn look around her eyes. “You’re being a coward, Ginny. At some point, you will have to talk to your mum. If you somehow skip talking to her about this, you’re going to have to talk to her about other things.” She tilted her head meaningfully. “There will be other things, you know.” “I know.” Ginny relaxed once more and stared up at the canopy above them. “It’s hard, Hermione. It’s hard to do it and know it could be really uncomfortable when… when I feel like if I just wait a bit, perhaps it won’t matter somehow.” “I’m sorry, Ginny, but I don’t think that’s going to happen. It’s going to matter whenever you talk to her. And remember, she did give you that dress with the Bodice Charm, so she’s expecting this to come up sooner or later. Surely that’s a good sign.” “I suppose.” “You’re just putting it off, Ginny,” Hermione said firmly. “You need to just do it and get it over with. Your chest isn’t going to get any smaller, so the problem isn’t going to just go away.” Hermione smirked, and Ginny rolled her eyes. “I’m sure you’ll survive, one way or another, and personally I think it will go well.” What do you think, Harry? You know what I think, Ginny. Tell me anyway. I think she’s probably right. If you want to be able to talk to your mum about this, then you should try. You’ll never know if you don’t. Ginny sighed. “I’ll think about it.” Hermione raised an eyebrow at her. “I will, Hermione. And one way or another, I’ll get a bra by… err… by the end of the month.” “All right,” Hermione said, “but I don’t think you can or should go any longer than that. Once the weather warms up, more people will be able to tell.” Ginny nodded, fighting the urge to blush. “Come on, Ginny,” Hermione said, patting her arm and smiling. “Focus on the positive. After all this time worrying you’d never fill out, it’s finally started. And I’d say you’ve started off rather well, really.” “What?” Ginny asked, sitting up abruptly and staring at Hermione, dumbfounded. “Well, it takes some girls a long time to get to where you are now. If it’s only been since Christmas, maybe that means you’re on your way to… err… bigger and better things.” Ginny could not contain a giggle. “’Bigger and better things’? Come on, Hermione. What have you been reading?” “I just mean I think you should be happy about this, no matter what else happens. Everyone’s different, of course, but why not think of this as a good sign?” “Well, maybe because it might not be a good sign, and then I’ll have got my hopes up for nothing. Maybe I’ll just end up a… a footnote in the history of girls, you know? The one who stopped growing after three months. Or maybe they’d call that a chest-note. What d’you reckon?” “I think you’re being absurd. It’s overwhelmingly likely that you’ll keep growing for a while.” Ginny smiled, unable to contain a bit of excitement. “You think so? I’d really like to. Just, you know, as much as normal.” “Everyone grows, Ginny. That’s what makes it normal. You’re not even late or anything. Remember, the rest of us are all at least a year older than you.” “That doesn’t really help, Hermione. I’ve seen first-years wearing bras.” “Yes, and you should already be wearing one, too,” Hermione replied. “Stop being so pessimistic. You’re still right on time.” That evening as she changed into her night-shirt, Ginny paused and examined herself in the mirror for what seemed to be the thousandth time. I have to do something soon, don’t I? Seems that way, yeah. I’d do it for you if I could. She grinned. I’m sure that would work wonderfully. The girls at the shop wouldn’t bat an eye at the Boy-Who-Lived coming in for a bra. I never said it was a good idea. Harry opened his trunk to retrieve Ginny’s towel, but to their surprise, Bun-bun the pink rabbit was still there. Huh. Maybe that practice with McGonagall is paying off. Ginny climbed into her bed, sealed the curtains, and lay back to wait for the dormitory to fall silent. I should get it over with, shouldn’t I? Yes. Hermione’s right. We’re just stalling now. And I know you want to talk to your mum about it. I want to if it works out well. I don’t if it doesn’t. Sorry, Gin, Harry said, smiling as he settled into his own bed. It doesn’t really work that way. I know, I know. She paused, deep in thought. All right, I’ll do it as soon as we can. But I can’t just write her a letter. I’d go spare thinking about what she might say when she read it. So go home. We’re not exactly stuck here. Can I? Harry shrugged. I don’t see why not. We left to visit your house last year, didn’t we? And this time, if we do it right, nobody will even know you’re gone. That’s what I’ll do, then. Ginny Shifted to Harry’s bed and tucked herself against his side with a soft sigh. They felt relieved to have made a decision and to finally be able to think about other things. We should be ready for Dobby tonight, Harry said, remembering Hermione’s whispered warning after dinner. Dumbledore said he wouldn’t be able to get in, but I’d hate to bet on that. Doesn’t feel like it’s been six weeks, does it? Ginny said, pulling the Invisibility Cloak more closely around her head. Not really. Harry tucked his wand under his pillow and then set the alarm on his watch to wake them early the next morning. Oh well. Here’s hoping. They woke up when Harry’s alarm chimed, but they found no sign that Dobby had visited the castle. At breakfast, once Ron had been drawn into some sort of discussion with the other second-year boys, Hermione leaned across the table and spoke in a whisper. “Did anything happen overnight?” “No, not a thing,” Harry said. “And did you decide what you’re going to do, Ginny?” She nodded. “I’m going to talk to Mum.” Hermione grinned. “I knew you would. Don’t worry. She’ll be fine.” “I hope so. I don’t want to write her a letter about this, though, so I’m going to go in person. Will you help cover for me this weekend?” Hermione paused for a moment, but then she nodded. “Of course I will.” “Thanks, Hermione,” Ginny said. “I’m not sure what we’re going to do yet, but we’ll think of something.” In spite of a few bouts of indecision, Ginny stuck with her resolve to talk to her mother through the rest of the week. On Friday, she and Harry caught up with Luna after dinner. “Hi, Luna,” Ginny said, taking her friend’s arm and steering her away from the other students. “Hello, Ginny. Where are we going?” “Someplace we can talk,” Ginny said in a lower voice. The three of them walked in silence until they reached Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. The resident ghost floated above her cubicle and peered at them with narrowed eyes. “Oh, it’s you.” “Hello, Myrtle,” Luna said. “How are you today?” “Are you going to be here long?” Myrtle asked. Ginny shrugged. “A few minutes.” “Fine.” Myrtle dived into her toilet, causing a small splash on the already damp floor, and vanished. “I’ve never seen her leave that quickly,” Harry said. We always had to either put up with her or allow ten minutes to get rid of her. Luna sighed. “Myrtle doesn’t like me. I’ve tried several times to talk with her about many different things, but she doesn’t seem interested in conversation.” “Look, Luna,” Ginny said, glancing at the door. “I need your help with something. Tomorrow afternoon, I need to go home for a while without anyone knowing I’m gone. Especially my brothers. We’re hoping that you’ll help Harry and Hermione cover for me.” “How?” “We’re not quite sure yet,” Harry said. “But we always spend Saturday afternoons with you, and we think we can say we’re going to spend some time talking to Barnabas the Barmy or something.” “Oh. All right, I’d be happy to help.” Luna looked between them and cocked her head slightly. “If you don’t mind my asking, Alex, why do you need to go home?” Ginny sighed. “I need to ask Mum to get me a bra, and I don’t want to do it in a letter.” “I see.” The blonde girl nodded. “That seems like a good plan. I got mine from Professor McGonagall, but I would much rather have spoken to my mother if I had the choice.” Harry and Ginny felt a surge of sympathy for their odd friend until her words registered. “Wait, what? You asked Professor McGonagall?” “Yes. I didn’t think Daddy would be able to help very easily, so I asked Professor Flitwick who I might approach here at Hogwarts.” “Flitwick?” Ginny repeated dumbly. “You asked him about how to get a bra?” Luna nodded. “I couldn’t think of anything else to do. He suggested Professor Sprout or Professor McGonagall. Since you think so highly of Professor McGonagall, I asked her. A few days later, she brought me five of them.” She pulled aside the collar of her shirt to reveal a thin strap running over her shoulder. “See?” “Luna!” Ginny said. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She cocked her head to one side, looking confused. “I didn’t think I needed to. It’s just an ordinary bra. I’ve heard of ones made from Acromantula silk, but Professor McGonagall said she couldn’t find any.” Luna frowned. “I suppose I should have told you before I spoke to her. She could have brought some extra ones like this, I’m sure. I’m very sorry for that.” Ginny sighed. “It’s okay, Luna. It’s not your job to help me buy clothes, and I’d really rather talk to my mum.” “Of course you would. Just tell me what I can do.” After lunch the next day, Harry, Ginny, and Hermione met Luna in the Entrance Hall and told Ron that they were going to spend the afternoon in the library. He declined to join them, as Ginny had known he would, and the four of them set off for the fourth floor. Before reaching the library, however, Harry led them all down a side corridor and into the classroom which had once housed the Mirror of Erised. “Do you suppose this counts as a remote location?” Hermione asked, looking around at the dusty furniture. “I’d hate to disappoint Professor McGonagall.” “We’re not far from the library,” Harry said. “And there’ll be three of us.” “I suppose you’re right.” Ginny helped them clean a table and a few chairs, and then she pulled her winter cloak out of her bag and put it on. “Enjoy your visit, Alex,” Luna said. Luna’s calm assurance, as though nothing could possibly go wrong with a visit to her mother, did more to calm Ginny’s nerves than anything else. “Thanks, Luna. See you soon.” Luna smiled. “You’ll be here the whole time.” Ginny hugged Harry, shared a smile with Hermione, and then Shifted to the pond behind The Burrow. They had considered going straight to her room, but they did not want to startle her mother. She Shifted her way uphill to the house to avoid spending any unnecessary time in the March weather. When she reached the back door of The Burrow, Ginny paused. Do I knock? Err… I suppose so. It would be strange to just walk in when nobody knows you could possibly be coming. That might be just as bad as going straight to your room. Ginny nodded and knocked, ignoring the bizarre feeling of being a visitor at her own home. She waited for over a minute, and then the door opened. Her mother stood in the doorway wearing a familiar, patched apron. “Ginny!” Mrs. Weasley shouted, raising a hand to her chest. “What on earth are you doing here? Is everything all right? What’s happened? Did that monster —” “No, Mum,” Ginny said loudly. “Everything’s fine, I promise.” So much for not worrying her. “Then what —?” She shook her head. “Come in out of the cold, dear. It’s good to see you. Heavens, I had no idea…” Ginny’s mother bustled her into the house, helped her out of her cloak, and sat her down at the kitchen table. Ginny noticed idly that the table was small and round, suited to four people at the most. There were only two chairs, and Mrs. Weasley sat in the other. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Are you sure everything’s all right?” Taking a deep breath, Ginny replied as calmly as she could. “Everything’s fine, Mum. Really.” “Is it Harry? Is something wrong with Harry?” she asked, looking slightly hesitant. “I heard all about that… that horrible attack last month.” “Harry’s fine, too. He says hello.” Ginny faced her mother squarely. “Harry had nothing to do with that mess, Mum. Dobby framed him to try to get him expelled.” “Dobby? Oh, dear. That elf is no end of trouble.” “Professor Dumbledore said the Hogwarts house-elves are keeping him out of the castle now. We haven’t seen him since then.” “Well, that’s good, I suppose.” “Is Dad home?” Ginny asked quickly. “No, he’s working a bit this afternoon. I’ll Floo him, though. He’d be thrilled to see you.” Ginny shook her head. “No, that’s okay. I… I came to see you.” Mrs. Weasley stared at Ginny for a few seconds and then shook her head. “Out with it, Ginny. I know you can travel any time you please, but that doesn’t mean you just drop in here for a spot of tea. Oh, would you like some tea, though? I find it makes talking easier.” Ginny had to smile, and she nodded. “That’d be great, Mum.” A minute later, they were each holding a brimming cup, and Mrs. Weasley gave Ginny an inviting look. Ginny sighed, her breath blowing steam across the table. “I did want to talk to you. Maybe… I was hoping… I wanted to ask you for a favour, perhaps.” “Maybe you were hoping for a favour perhaps? You’re going to have to be a bit more specific, dear.” Her mother’s gentle tone and slight smile reassured Ginny, and she nodded. “Yeah. Err…” With Harry’s silent support, Ginny mustered her supposed courage. “Mum, I was hoping you’d take me somewhere to get a bra.” “All right. And?” Ginny blinked several times. “Well… that’s it, really.” “That’s it? Goodness, Ginny, you don’t need to fuss so much about that. I might’ve thought you were about to tell me you only had one breast or some such.” “Is that possible?” Ginny asked, momentarily distracted. “I have no idea,” Mrs. Weasley said, shrugging. She sipped her tea and watched Ginny closely. “Seriously, dear. Why were you so worried about that? Of course I’ll take you. We can go to Diagon Alley.” Ginny eyed her mother cautiously. She seemed calm and matter-of-fact, but Ginny knew that appearances could be deceiving. “I… I wasn’t sure how you’d react. You know… after the summer…” Ginny watched as her mother’s expression tightened. “Oh, I see,” Mrs. Weasley said slowly. She put down her tea and began toying with a flannel. “I suppose I should have thought of that.” “I’ve had a hard time thinking about anything else,” Ginny said, looking down at the tabletop. Her mother sniffed. “Worried I’d go a bit overboard, did you? Perhaps cry a river or two?” Ginny smiled slightly. “Perhaps. Or just… err… spend a long time talking about it.” “I see.” Mrs. Weasley paused for a moment and then leaned forward slightly. “There are things you need to know at this point, dear.” You never should have brought it up. I know, I know. “Yes, Mum, I know. Honestly, I’ve been listening every time you’ve talked about it.” “Well, good.” Her mother sighed slowly. “It’s not that I haven’t thought about what happened last summer. I can imagine how you might think I’d overreact. But I didn’t really connect that to this.” “You didn’t…” Ginny did not want to spoil the open and almost friendly conversation, but they could not wrap their minds around the idea Mrs. Weasley was presenting to them. “I don’t understand. You were so worried.” “I was, and I still am, to be honest. But this is not a surprise, Ginny. I’ve known since the day you were born that this would happen someday. I’ve been looking forward to it. Things got very complicated when you met Harry, but I’ve had enough time to realise that not even that can stop you from growing up. You’re going to become a young woman whether he’s around or not, and some things are the same for all young women, no matter what else happens.” Mrs. Weasley leaned against the back of her chair and sighed again. “But of course you wouldn’t think of it that way, would you? I gave you no reason to.” Ginny shook her head. Her mother’s line of thinking was perfectly reasonable now that Ginny heard it, but she had not expected her mother to view getting a bra as a normal thing. “I’m sorry, Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I’m sorry I’ve so often reacted so poorly.” Ginny could not think of anything to say, so she simply nodded. “Stand up, then, and take off your jumper.” “What?!” Ginny asked, her head snapping up. “You heard me,” Mrs. Weasley said in a familiar, no-nonsense voice. Somewhat nervously, Ginny stood up and removed her slightly oversized jumper, leaving her in a t-shirt. She swung her hair over her shoulder and stood as straight as she could manage. “Ginny, dear, you waited too long. You should have come to me long ago. You’re very nearly too big to be going around without a bra.” Ginny shrugged. “I… I wasn’t sure what you’d say. I thought I was okay for now.” Her mother shook her head. “Only because you wear robes and jumpers all the time. Now listen, Ginny,” Mrs. Weasley said, walking over to place her hands on Ginny’s shoulders. “Here are three short lessons for you. First, you must never knock on that door again. You come right inside, no matter how old you are, where you’ve been, or how long you’ve been gone. It’s a rule. My children never knock.” Ginny nodded. “Second, we’re women, you and I. We’re surrounded by boys, and they have no idea what some parts of our lives are like. Whenever you need to talk about women’s things, you can come to me. I will always help you in any way I can, because that’s what women do. I don’t care if we’re in the middle of an argument and angry with each other. I will always make time for you. I’ll even try not to embarrass you about it. Do you understand?” “Yes, Mum.” “And do you believe me?” Ginny bit her lip for a moment, but in her heart she already knew the answer. “Yes.” “Good. Now, lesson three. This one is very important. Don’t wear a white bra under a white shirt. It usually shows right through and looks slovenly. A black bra under a white shirt makes you look like you’re advertising something, so that’s out, too.” Laughter burst out of Ginny, and she nodded. “Okay. No white or black under white. Got it.” Smiling, her mother pulled her into a tight hug. Ginny heard giggling, and she glanced around the kitchen in surprise until she realised that it was coming from Hogwarts. Harry looked up from where he had been staring at the tabletop and found both Hermione and Luna staring at him. The giggling was coming from Hermione, but Luna was grinning, too. “Oh, Harry,” Hermione said. “The look on your face. Are they at the shop?” He put his head in his hands and shook it slowly. “They haven’t even left the house yet.” Hermione patted his shoulder. “Hang in there.” “What is it, Ginny?” Mrs. Weasley asked, pulling away from their embrace. “Oh, err… Hermione thought Harry’s expression was funny just now.” Some of the warmth faded from her mother’s expression, but Ginny was glad to see that the woman did not look truly upset. “Well, I suppose it probably was. I doubt most boys ever hear these types of things.” She cocked her head to one side. “Is Harry also responsible for those pretty earrings you’re wearing?” Ginny nodded. “We got them for Christmas. They’re peridot.” “I see that. It’s a very nice colour on you.” “Do you really think they’re pretty?” Ginny asked, fingering her earlobe. “I know some people might think they’re too simple, but I love them.” Her mother pushed Ginny’s hand away from her ear and stroked her hair briefly. “A girl’s first earrings are always special, and those really are very pretty.” Ginny smiled as her shoulders relaxed. “Thanks, Mum.” Mrs. Weasley took a few minutes to get dressed for an outing, and then she and Ginny Flooed to the Leaky Cauldron. Once they entered Diagon Alley, they made their way directly to Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions. A tall, slender woman emerged from behind the counter. “Good morning,” she said. “May I help you?” “We’re going to be looking at a few things in the witches’ section,” Mrs. Weasley said firmly. “We’ll need a dressing room, but I think that will be all for now.” “Of course. You may use any dressing room you like. Please let me know if I can help at all.” “Thank you,” Mrs. Weasley said. She led Ginny towards one side of the store, where dresses and hats were displayed. When they passed between the first two racks of witches’ robes, the wall they were facing shimmered fluidly. The wallpaper disappeared, revealing a display of women’s undergarments in dozens of styles and colours. “Now, Ginny, when you’re just a bit older, the witches here will make custom bras to fit you based on these samples.” She waved at the display. “While you’re growing, though, you’ll have something plainer and more adjustable.” They moved to the end of the display, and Mrs. Weasley opened a drawer. Inside were smaller beige and white bras in just a few styles. “Now, since you wear a uniform with a white shirt most of the time, which colour shall we avoid?” Ginny smiled. “White, I think.” “Exactly.” Over the next half hour, Ginny got a thorough lesson in what to wear and how to wear it. She tried on several bras and learned how to tell which ones fit. Her mother showed her how to adjust the straps with her wand and promised that she would get used to the awkward position it required. In the end, Mrs. Weasley bought Ginny three beige-coloured bras, each of which carried an extended Bodice Charm so that it could grow with her. Her mother assured her that she would outgrow those charms soon enough, but Ginny was pleased to need them at all. They Flooed back to The Burrow, and Ginny went upstairs to put on one of her new garments. She examined herself in the mirror again and was pleased to see that the bra itself was nearly invisible beneath her t-shirt. At the same time, she thought that perhaps — just perhaps — it made her chest look a bit bigger than it had looked before. She went back downstairs and hugged her mother again. “Thanks, Mum. I really appreciate your helping with this.” “You’re welcome, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said. “I’m sorry you spent so much time worrying about it all.” Ginny shrugged in response. “I’m glad I was wrong.” “Me, too.” Her mother looked at her oddly. “And what does Harry think of it?” Ginny straightened and looked her mother directly in the eye. “He knows I’m excited to finally be filling out, so he’s happy because I’m happy.” She smiled, her eyes unfocusing for a moment, and flushed happily. “He thinks I’m beautiful. He always has.” Mrs. Weasley blinked. “Oh. Well… well, then he and I agree about something, don’t we?” There’s a first time for everything. “I think you’re both biased,” Ginny said, grinning again. “That doesn’t mean we’re wrong.” “I have to go, Mum. I don’t want to be gone too long. I’m… err…” “Not supposed to leave the grounds without permission?” her mother finished. “I’m quite aware of that, but I’m giving you a pass this time. If you outgrow those bras and need new ones before the summer, or if you have any other issues of that sort, just tell Professor McGonagall. I’m sure she’ll give you permission to come home.” “Okay. I’ll see you in June. Say hi to Dad for me.” “I will, and you tell everyone who knows you came here that I said hello. And Ginny, please do be careful. I don’t like the sound of everything that’s been happening.” Ginny nodded. “Don’t worry, Mum. Professor McGonagall’s making us all be very careful.” “I’ll worry anyway, but that’s good to hear.” Mrs. Weasley hugged her one more time, and then Ginny Shifted back to the unused classroom. Harry finally focused his eyes, and they looked around. Luna and Hermione were both engrossed in their books, but they looked up when Harry stood up and stretched. “It went well, then?” Hermione asked eagerly. “I didn’t think Harry looked too upset.” “It was fine,” Ginny said, nodding. “Mum was… Mum was Mum, for a change.” “I’m so glad, Ginny. I really hoped she would be.” “Do you feel a bit uncomfortable?” Luna asked. “The straps bothered me at first.” Ginny shrugged. “A bit, but I suppose I’ll get used to it.” “You will,” Hermione said, and Luna nodded. “I sure hope so,” Harry said. He felt as though he was wearing a fat elastic band around his rib cage, and he fought the urge to squirm against the sensation. “Let’s head back,” Ginny said. She patted the pocket of her cloak, where she had hidden her bag from Madam Malkin’s. “I need to put these away, and it’ll be time for dinner before long.” They all packed away their things, and then Ginny stepped forward to hug Luna. “Thanks, Luna. I know we didn’t really get to spend much time together, but I really appreciate your helping us.” “What are you talking about, Alex?” Luna asked, the shadow of a grin on her pale lips. “We were together all afternoon.” Harry, Hermione, and Ginny walked Luna to the bottom of a spiral staircase that Luna said would take her directly to her common room. Then the Gryffindors went up to the seventh floor. Just outside the portrait hole, with Hermione keeping watch, Ginny leaned up and hugged Harry tightly. They were startled to discover that he could feel the straps on her back through her shirt and jumper. I know you didn’t really have a choice, but you were perfect today, Harry. Really perfect. You mean I did a good job staring at that wall for hours on end? Yes. That’s what we needed today, strange as it was. I think it was worth it, Ginny, he said more seriously. Your mum was like a completely different person. Well… I’m sure part of that was having me there alone, to be honest. She’s always been a bit different when you’re not around. Yeah, but it’s still good. A step, like your dad says. I know. I just hope she can be that way when you are around. They released each other, smiled gratefully at Hermione, and entered the tower to rejoin their housemates.
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