Ginny's Gift, Chapter 7
Rated: PG-13
Summary: Ginny gives Harry a special birthday present, but the consequences are unexpected.
"Reckon we can start practising next week?"
Harry and Ron were on their way to their first Potions class of term, discussing Gryffindor's Quidditch prospects as they wound their way to the dungeons, and for once they were looking forward to the class. It might actually prove to be a pleasant experience for once, or it would be if they didn't have the Slytherins to contend with. That much hadn't changed.
"What about holding try-outs?" Harry replied.
"What for?" asked Ron. "We have a full roster this year." He had been obliged to hold try-outs at the beginning of last year to fill the void left by Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and the twins. He'd managed to get Fred and George to oversee the training of the new Beaters, Ralph Chapman and Kevin Graham, two hulking boys in Ginny's year, and they'd recruited Natalie MacDonald, Rosamund Booth, and Carol Biggles as Chasers.
"As long as no one gets hurt, we're fine, but there's the future of the team to consider, as well," replied Harry. "If we take on some reserve players, we can train them this year, and whoever becomes Captain next year won't have to worry about it."
Ron stopped in his tracks and looked at Harry. "I know what this is about…" he began, but Hermione interrupted him.
"Harry's right, Ron. You ought to look ahead. Remember all the trouble you had last year? First year as Quidditch Captain, and you had five spots to fill."
"It won't be as bad next year," Ron argued. "There will only be two openings."
"And what if someone is injured? What will you do then? The team has been very lucky so far, but you never know."
Harry and Ron both stared at Hermione. While she went to Quidditch matches along with the rest of the school, she'd never seemed overly interested in the sport. She often got Quidditch-related terms mixed up, and Ron still liked to tease her about Wonky Faints and Porky Ploys.
"Since when are you so interested in Gryffindor's Quidditch prospects?" ask Ron suspiciously.
Hermione shrugged. "Just thought I was showing proper interest in my house team. Come on, we'll be late."
They hurried along the corridor, arriving at the Potions Dungeon at the same time as Mundungus Fletcher. The professor went to the front of the class, as the students filed in and took their customary seats. Mundungus Fletcher was an unsmiling, jowly man with a florid complexion, close-cropped grey hair and icy blue eyes. Harry remembered now that Mr Weasley had had some sort of trouble with him in the past, and now that Harry had seen this man up close, he could easily imagine it.
The Potions professor began the class by taking the register, and Harry was surprised that he received no reply when he arrived at Draco Malfoy's name. Harry hadn't noticed Malfoy's absence when he'd entered the dungeon, as he was almost late himself, but turning now he could see that the place where the Slytherin usually sat was empty. He exchanged a look with Ron and Hermione. Ron looked pleased. Now they would find out whether they could expect favouritism.
"Where is Mr Malfoy?" Professor Fletcher asked the Slytherins. No one answered. "I know he was at breakfast. Now where has he got to?" Fletcher demanded in a louder voice. Still no reply. "Let's see, that will be…"
At that moment Draco Malfoy came through the door. Fletcher turned and demanded, "And just what was so important that you decided to waste my time and this class'?"
Malfoy stared sullenly at the professor. "I had to send an important message to my family. It was an emergency."
"I see. Well your emergency is going to cost Slytherin twenty points for being late. Parkinson?"
"Here."
Harry looked over at Ron again. Ron was positively gleeful, but Harry had a bit of a sinking feeling. If Fletcher was ready to be so harsh with a member of his own house, he was certainly going to be strict with everyone. Harry could only hope he'd be fair. It seemed as if Hermione shared some of Harry's worries, judging by her expression.
"Zabini?"
"Here."
"As you know, I am replacing Professor Snape this year. My job will be to prepare you to take your NEWTs. The potions you will be preparing this year will require a great deal of precision and concentration. Attention to detail will be very important. I therefore will not tolerate any unnecessary talking or messing about in this class. You will work in with partners. I will allow you to choose your partners for now, but I will reassign partners if I deem it necessary."
Ron had slouched down into his seat now, seeming to try to make himself as small as possible. Whatever optimism he may have felt upon entering the class had definitely vanished. Hermione, on the other hand, looked at Fletcher rather approvingly. She seemed ready to take on the challenge.
Half an hour later, Harry was furiously chopping dragon scales for the Fortitude Potion the class was making. It was difficult enough to cut them in the first place, as they were so tough, but achieving the uniform dice required by the potion was nearly impossible. Fletcher was moving from table to table criticising technique. He'd even found an excuse to take points from Gryffindor when he found Parvati's tarot cards lying on her chair.
It didn't add to Harry's confidence that he'd been stuck working with Neville. Becoming a prefect may have done wonders for Neville's self-confidence, but it hadn't made him any more competent at Potions. For a few moments, Harry had been tempted to avenge himself for Neville's making him come up to bed the night before, but now he was glad he'd decided against it. Harry had already averted disaster once, stirring their bubbling brew down as it threatened to boil over. He had no doubt that would have cost Gryffindor even more house points.
Harry had just finished muttering the final incantation ('fortitudem frimare') over the cauldron when Professor Fletcher announced that time was up. There were still about fifteen minutes left in the period, the time usually allotted to cleaning up, but the potions teacher had something else in mind.
"We are going to test your results now. One student of each pairing will take some of the potion. Everyone will receive marks based on the results of the entire class. In other words, the more of you that have got it right, the higher your mark will be."
Harry cringed slightly. He looked quickly around the class, trying to assess how many of them were likely to have made a proper Fortitude Potion. He was certain Hermione and Ron had done it right. Malfoy had always done well with Snape, so there was a good chance his was right, as well. On the other hand, Crabbe and Goyle were sure to have botched theirs--they'd be fortunate not to need some sort of antidote. As for his own potion, when Neville was your partner, you could never be sure what to expect.
This brought another problem to Harry's mind. The last thing Neville needed was anything that would give him more backbone. He was already impossible. But Harry wasn't at all sure he wanted to sample any potion Neville had had a hand in making.
Professor Fletcher was walking over to their table, looking rather displeased. Millicent Bulstrode had apparently done something wrong and turned a rather interesting shade of puce as a result. Acting quickly, Harry grabbed a ladle and gulped down a mouthful of the potion. Its foul taste caused him to grimace.
"Well, Potter?" demanded Fletcher. "Do you feel any different?"
Glumly, Harry shook his head. It was difficult to tell what Fletcher was thinking. His face remained completely impassive. Fletcher continued on. Harry was surprised when Ron told the teacher that he felt no effects of the potion, either. Harry had expected Hermione, at least, to get the potion right. After Fletcher had finished his rounds, he merely said he was disappointed in the results. He did not announce what mark he was giving the class.
When the bell finally rang, a general feeling of relief pervaded the room, as everyone gathered up his things and headed to the Great Hall for lunch. None of the seventh year Gryffindors said much during the meal. They were all still shell-shocked. On top of a harrowing class, the potion Harry had taken was weighing heavily on his stomach, effectively killing his appetite. In the middle of it all, Ginny came in and sat in the empty seat across from Harry. She played with her food, not taking a single bite until Hermione asked her if anything was bothering her.
Ginny looked up at Hermione, her eyes wary. "No, nothing's wrong." But there was something in the way she said it that made Harry certain she wasn't being truthful.
Hermione pursed her lips and tried a different approach. "Have you had Potions class yet?"
Ginny continued to play with her food, and her reply was non-committal. "Not yet."
"You'll want to watch out for Fletcher," warned Ron. "He's at least as bad as Snape. He doesn't even give his own house a break."
Ginny didn't look up or reply. "What class did you just come from then?" asked Hermione.
Ginny mumbled something that Harry didn't catch. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. "Sorry I didn't hear you."
"Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Ron perked up at this. The seventh year Gryffindors weren't due to have this class until later that afternoon. "So what's Krum like?"
Ginny looked up at her brother. "He's creepy."
"What did he do?" asked Ron, astonished.
"I don't want to talk about it." And she got up and left the table.
Harry watched her go, feeling as if there was a leaden weight in his stomach. He remembered Viktor Krum from the Triwizard Tournament and had almost always thought he was all right. An image of Krum putting the Cruciatus Curse on Cedric Diggory flashed through his mind, raising doubts. No, Harry reminded himself. Krum had been under the Imperius Curse at the time; he hadn't been acting of his own volition.
Hermione, meanwhile, was defending Krum to Ron. "He was always a perfect gentleman with me. He's quite nice."
"And just when have you been around him lately?" argued Ron. "You haven't seen him since fourth year." This much was true. Hermione and Krum may have exchanged an owl or two since then, but she hadn't been able to visit Bulgaria that summer. Her parents hadn't been inclined to take her, and there never had been a question of her going by herself.
Harry looked up at the head table where Krum was seated between Professor Grubbly-Plank and Professor Sprout, eating his lunch and chatting with the other professors. It all looked amicable enough, and Harry couldn't detect anything odd or creepy in his demeanour. He'd have to pay closer attention later that afternoon.
When they got to Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry made sure he took a front seat, in order to observe Krum's behaviour more closely. Ron and Hermione seemed ready to go along with this plan. Once the class was over, Harry couldn't say that'd he'd noticed anything particularly off about Krum, except…
"I can't believe he spent that whole class going over Hinkypunks!" Hermione complained once the final bell had rung. "We're in our last year. We're at war, for heaven's sake, and he wastes the class going over something we learned in third year!"
"Calm down, Hermione," said Ron. "Perhaps he was revising."
"Why would he choose to revise that of all things? We had Hinkypunks on our OWLs. If we don't know that by now, we never will. Why couldn't we learn something useful, like how to conjure a Patronus?"
"He's new to teaching, Hermione. Maybe this was his way of getting into the subject slowly. With all the work that's being piled on us in other classes, I'm glad someone is giving us a break."
"Ron, this is probably our most important class. We ought to be learning something useful. I'm sure he could show us a thing or two. If Dumbledore hired him, he must be qualified."
While Harry privately agreed with Hermione about Defence Against the Dark Arts being their most important class this year, he also agreed with Ron about having a bit of a break. He knew he could always make up some ground on his own time by reading the book Hermione had given him for his birthday. If he ever managed to find some time to himself. With his course-load, Quidditch (once the season started) and Neville's curfew, there wasn't very much time left he could call his own.
"Ron, about Quidditch…" Harry broke in.
"What?" Ron was clearly distracted by his argument with Hermione. It had become a sort of game with them.
"Are we going to hold try-outs for reserve players or not?"
"Oh, sure. Why don't you put up a notice in the common room? I think Hermione needs a nice walk outside to, erm, unwind." The weather had finally turned warm and sunny, and most students were out enjoying the day now that classes were over.
Harry went back to Gryffindor Tower by himself. He set his bag down on a table in the common room and searched for a decent piece of parchment. He thought about what he was going to put in the notice and realised that Ron hadn't even set a date to hold try-outs. He sighed. Ron was supposed to be Quidditch captain; it was up to him to make these decisions. He also noticed he didn't have any parchment that was in good enough condition to make up a notice. He'd have to get some from his trunk upstairs. While he was there, he decided he might as well get some different coloured ink to make his notice stand out.
Harry climbed the steps to the seventh year boys' dormitory and was surprised to find the door closed. Not only that, it was locked. He paused for a moment and considered. None of the others had come up here: they'd all just come from class together. So who could have locked the door? Harry drew his wand. "Alohomora!"
The door swung open, and he walked into the room. A figure was rummaging through his trunk. The person's back was turned, but red hair was unmistakable. Harry cleared his throat, and Ginny froze.
"What are you doing, Ginny?"
She straightened and turned, her face flooding with colour. "Harry!" she gasped. She hesitated, obviously embarrassed at being caught. "Erm, would you mind closing the door?"
Harry raised his eyebrows at her. Whatever had been bothering her earlier seemed to be an issue no longer. She was definitely up to something: her eyes were sparkling with mischief. When Harry didn't do as she'd asked, she sighed and went over to the door herself. Harry heard her mutter a Locking Charm.
Harry walked over to his trunk. Everything seemed to be in its place. Ginny must have just got there when he'd interrupted her. "Are you going to tell me what you were doing going through my things?" he asked again, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I was looking for your birthday present."
Harry's heart began to pound. She couldn't know about Sirius' book, could she? And what gave her the right to come up here and take it without asking? "My birthday present? Listen Ginny…"
"I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd mind."
"Mind? Of course I mind! You can't just come up here and go through my things!"
She fixed her gaze at the floor, colouring further. "Well, I thought I could use it to get a little revenge." She looked him straight in the eye now. "You know, on Neville."
Harry stared at her. What did Sirius' book have to do with that? And how did she even know about it? Harry remembered Hermione sprawled out with it on Ron's bed, and he wondered what, exactly, she'd read in it to make her say something about it to Ginny, something which would give Ginny the impression she could use it for revenge on Neville. "I don't understand. Maybe you'd better explain from the beginning."
Ginny frowned slightly, as if the answer ought to be obvious. "The twins gave you a whole box of tricks, Harry. Remember?" She said it slowly as if she was talking to a small child. "Didn't it ever occur to you to do something to Neville to get back at him for last night?"
Harry felt his face heat, whether at the reminder of what had almost happened in the common room or because he felt stupid for not guessing her purpose sooner, he didn't know. "Oh."
"Well, what else could you have thought?"
Harry knew better than to answer that. Instead, he reached into his trunk and pulled out the twins' present. He sat down on his bed with it. "What do you fancy?"
Ginny came over and after a moment's hesitation, sat down beside him. Harry felt as if the temperature in the room had risen several degrees. "What does all this do?" she asked, leaning over slightly to look at the contents of the box. Her thigh brushed against his.
"Er, I'm not sure what all of it does, yet. Do you have any idea what you want to do to him?"
"Not really. I thought I'd get some ideas by looking at this stuff."
"Oh, well, you know, we'll have to come up with something fast before someone decides to come up here. You're not supposed to be up here in the first place. I thought you knew that, as a prefect." He grinned at her and nudged her with his shoulder, feeling an odd tingle pass through him at the contact.
Ginny nudged back. "Shut it, you. Besides, I put a Locking Charm on the door."
"Which I broke through with a spell that Hermione discovered in first year. Honestly, if the twins knew about this, you'd never live it down."
Ginny looked up at him and opened her mouth to say something, but instead their gazes locked. Harry was suddenly aware that they were completely alone in his dormitory with the door locked. He had a strange feeling that if the twins were ever to find out that he'd sat on his bed with their sister, and all he'd done was look at some joke items and tease her, he'd never live it down, either. He felt the smile fade from his face, as he saw Ginny's do the same.
A noise outside on the landing shattered the moment. Someone was trying unsuccessfully to open the door. It was only a matter of time until whoever it was resorted to magic. Ginny looked at Harry in a panic. He motioned to her to stay silent. Moving as quickly and quietly as possible, Harry stuffed the box of practical jokes into his trunk and pulled out his invisibility cloak. Out on the landing, a muffled voice could be heard reciting an incantation. When the door didn't open immediately, they knew it was Neville. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her against the wall as he threw the invisibility cloak over the two of them.
The door opened and Neville came storming in, ready to take points off whoever had had the audacity to lock him out of his dormitory. He stopped short when he saw that the room appeared empty. Harry knew that Neville could not see either him or Ginny, but that did not stop his heart from pounding. He was obliged to stand very close to Ginny to ensure that the cloak covered the two of them, and he couldn't stop himself from noticing how well she might fit against him. Her head came up to his shoulder, as if it was made to lie there, and he was tempted to put his arms around her to see how she would feel in them.
Neville was looking around the room suspiciously, trying to determine what had happened. When he turned up no clues, he turned and began looking through Dean Thomas' night table. Then he proceeded to go through Dean's trunk. Harry was outraged. Prefect or no, what right did Neville have to do that? Harry was about to throw off the cloak and confront Neville, when he remembered he couldn't give Ginny away. He looked into her eyes and saw the questions evident there, but he had no answers for her.
Neville finished with Dean's things and moved on to Seamus' night table. Harry swallowed. Neville was obviously going to search through everyone's private belongings, and Harry's bed was next in line. He and Ginny were wedged into the space between his bed and night table. It was going to be next to impossible to escape detection once Neville got that far. Reflexively, Harry pushed them both closer to the wall, trying to take up as little space as possible.
They could hear Neville muttering to himself, as he rifled through Seamus' things. Harry thought he heard the words "Butterbeer Hardcore", but it was difficult to tell. His heart was still pounding, the sound of it loud in his ears. In another minute, Neville would move on to Harry's things, and the game might very well be up then.
Harry's mind raced as he went over the possibilities in his mind, and he found himself wishing that he'd hidden under the bed with Ginny. He considered coming out of hiding to confront Neville once more, but there was no way of conveying this plan silently to Ginny. It's success hinged on her knowing to stay hidden under the cloak. When things began to look really desperate, Harry drew his wand intending to put the Full Body Bind on Neville at unawares.
"Mr Longbottom! What is the meaning of this?"
Neville had been standing less than a foot from them, his hand extended to open the drawer of Harry's night table, when Professor McGonagall's voice caused him to freeze on the spot. Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. He looked at Ginny to see her eyes widen. On one hand the arrival of the head of Gryffindor House had saved them from discovery; on the other, they weren't out of the woods yet by a long shot, and they both knew it.
"Pr-Professor McGonagall," Neville stammered, and for a moment Harry was reminded of how Neville had looked during their third year when it had been discovered that he'd left the list of passwords lying about, permitting Sirius Black to gain admittance to Gryffindor Tower. "I was… I was just…"
Professor McGonagall entered the room, crossed her arms and tapped a foot expectantly.
"I'd heard that someone had a stash of contraband, Professor," said Neville, regaining his composure. "I was conducting a search."
"This is not proper procedure for conducting a search, Mr Longbottom. You ought to know that. It's a good thing I heard about this. This is a very serious matter, Mr Longbottom. Come with me. I believe we need to hold an emergency prefects' meeting." And she frog-marched Neville out of the room.
Harry let out a much longer sigh of relief, as he took the invisibility cloak and stepped away from Ginny. She was giggling.
"Ginny, you're going to have to get out of here now," Harry pointed out. "You'll have to go to that prefects' meeting."
Ginny looked disappointed. "Damn it, you're right. But I'm not through with him. Whatever McGonagall decides to do to him, I'm still planning revenge."
"We'll have to plan it later."
Ginny turned and gave him a searching look. Then a smile spread over her face. She looked at the invisibility cloak in Harry's hands. "I imagine that's very useful for sneaking out after curfew," she remarked.
"Erm, yeah, it is. It's served a time or two."
"So meet me tonight, and we'll finish this. I've got to run. Which is Neville's bed?"
Harry pointed it out, and Ginny drew her wand. "Drapus curtus!" Harry watched as the blankets flew off of Neville's bed and rearranged themselves. The bed looked perfectly made once more, but Harry was sure Neville would have a hard time getting into it tonight. "And that's just for starters," Ginny said before leaving the room.
*
Harry lay in bed later that night listening to the other boys' snores. He was certain they were all asleep by now, but it wasn't time for him to meet Ginny in the common room yet. Earlier in the evening she'd slipped him a note that said she'd be meet him at one AM. He had the invisibility cloak ready, along with the box of practical jokes.
When his watch indicated the time had come, Harry slipped out of bed, donned the invisibility cloak and stole down to the common room. There had been a fire in the grate earlier, but it had died down to glowing embers now, and most of the room was cast into shadow. "Ginny?" he called in as loud a whisper as he dared, "are you here?"
There was no reply. She wasn't there yet. Harry removed the invisibility cloak and went over to a seat near the fire to wait. He thought back to her odd reaction at lunchtime and determined to ask her about that. Something wasn't quite right there. Whatever had happened with Viktor Krum, by later in the afternoon, she'd acted as if nothing had gone wrong at all that morning. He was also curious about the prefects' meeting. Neville had not turned up at supper, and Hermione had sent everyone up to bed. When Harry had entered the dormitory, Neville was already in bed with the hangings drawn. Presumably he'd remade his bed before climbing into it.
"Harry?" Heard a voice calling softly.
"I'm here," he replied.
The next thing he knew, she was sitting close beside him on the sofa. Her dressing gown and night dress were both white, but the dying embers cast an orange glow about her. She tucked her legs underneath her, causing her to lean closer. Harry felt his cheeks begin to heat and was glad of the darkness, which hid his blush.
"Do you still want to get revenge on Neville?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, although I don't suppose the matter is as pressing as it was." She paused and giggled. "He was in quite a lot of trouble earlier on. He came very close to losing his prefect's badge. We voted on it, you know."
"And how did you vote?"
"I voted to keep him on. Had to, really. How would it have looked if I'd voted against a prefect from my own house? Malfoy voted against him, of course."
"No surprise there."
"No, and the other Slytherins voted with Malfoy. It was much closer than you'd have expected."
This was likely true. Even though he'd been awkward, Neville had been well enough liked by his peers in the past. It was only the seriousness, with which he took his present role as a prefect, that had contributed to any unpopularity. But not in Malfoy's case. Malfoy had held Neville in contempt ever since first year.
Ginny shifted, and her arm brushed against Harry's. He looked down at her, meeting her eyes. For a moment he couldn't look away, but he finally forced himself to. Here he was, finally having a normal conversation with Ginny, and he was a bit reluctant to allow himself to become distracted by… other matters just yet. He still hadn't asked her about Viktor Krum, but he didn't want to ruin things by upsetting her.
"Perhaps Neville will relax a bit now," he said to fill the silence.
"Yeah, I think he's had a good scare. So, what did he think about his bed being short-sheeted?"
Harry smiled into the darkness. "Dunno. He was already in bed when I went up earlier."
"Then he's definitely had a good scare."
"And you still want to get revenge?"
"Of course I do."
"Remind me never to cross you."
"It doesn't have to be much." She laughed again, more richly this time. "I'm already getting away with something against the rules by being down here tonight." Her tone had changed as she said this, and Harry was sure she was trying to insinuate something.
His impression was confirmed when he felt her shift against him again. He was more aware than ever that they were alone in the dark. He turned towards her once more and found her looking at him. He swallowed. This was it. Just don't think about it… He leaned closer, and she did the same. He touched his lips to hers carefully and experienced the same rush as he had the last time. He pulled back after a moment when he realised his glasses were getting in the way. There was now a large smudge on one of the lenses where it had pressed against her cheek.
He was surprised when she reached up, plucked the glasses from his nose and laid them aside, before placing her hand at the nape of his neck and leaning close once more. He met her halfway, and it all seemed much easier this time. He could feel her begin to kiss him back, and the sensation sent a shock wave through him. He tilted his head a little further to the side, while his hands found their way to her waist, seeking to draw her closer to him. Then she opened her mouth under his, and he had no choice but to follow, and conscious thought left him for a while.
When at last they broke apart, they each had to pause and catch their breath. Ginny's fingers had somehow twined themselves into his hair, and Harry's hands were still stroking her back. They must have found their way there on their own. He'd never imagined she would taste so sweet, that she would feel so warm and alive in his arms. He would have told her so, but he wasn't feeling very articulate at the moment. A breathless "wow" was the best he could manage.
Ginny giggled and burrowed in against him. His arms tightened around her of their own accord, and he held her quietly while his hands discovered the soft texture of her hair. He felt her relax against his chest and remembered it was very late. They both needed to go to bed soon, and there was still the matter of her behaviour at lunch.
"Ginny," he began tentatively, unsure of her reaction. "I need to ask you something. It's about earlier."
She drew back and looked at him. He reached for his glasses and put them back on so he could see her properly. "What?" she asked.
"Earlier at lunch…" He broke off. He really didn't want to upset her now.
"What about it?" She sounded genuinely confused.
"What happened in Defence Against the Dark Arts that set you off like that?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
This didn't add up. She sounded as if she honestly didn't know what he was on about. "But you said Krum was creepy. What made you say that?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Harry."
He decided not to pursue the matter with her. The last thing he wanted to do now was argue with her. He merely filed the problem away to reflect on later. He felt she was telling the truth now, as he felt what she'd said about Krum at lunch was true. The problem was, the two truths contradicted each other. He only had to work out why.
He stood up, extending a hand to her to help her up. "It's late. We'd better get to bed." Gathering his invisibility cloak and box from the twins, he led her to the girls' staircase, where he softly kissed her good night.
Chapter 8
Summary: Ginny gives Harry a special birthday present, but the consequences are unexpected.
"Reckon we can start practising next week?"
Harry and Ron were on their way to their first Potions class of term, discussing Gryffindor's Quidditch prospects as they wound their way to the dungeons, and for once they were looking forward to the class. It might actually prove to be a pleasant experience for once, or it would be if they didn't have the Slytherins to contend with. That much hadn't changed.
"What about holding try-outs?" Harry replied.
"What for?" asked Ron. "We have a full roster this year." He had been obliged to hold try-outs at the beginning of last year to fill the void left by Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and the twins. He'd managed to get Fred and George to oversee the training of the new Beaters, Ralph Chapman and Kevin Graham, two hulking boys in Ginny's year, and they'd recruited Natalie MacDonald, Rosamund Booth, and Carol Biggles as Chasers.
"As long as no one gets hurt, we're fine, but there's the future of the team to consider, as well," replied Harry. "If we take on some reserve players, we can train them this year, and whoever becomes Captain next year won't have to worry about it."
Ron stopped in his tracks and looked at Harry. "I know what this is about…" he began, but Hermione interrupted him.
"Harry's right, Ron. You ought to look ahead. Remember all the trouble you had last year? First year as Quidditch Captain, and you had five spots to fill."
"It won't be as bad next year," Ron argued. "There will only be two openings."
"And what if someone is injured? What will you do then? The team has been very lucky so far, but you never know."
Harry and Ron both stared at Hermione. While she went to Quidditch matches along with the rest of the school, she'd never seemed overly interested in the sport. She often got Quidditch-related terms mixed up, and Ron still liked to tease her about Wonky Faints and Porky Ploys.
"Since when are you so interested in Gryffindor's Quidditch prospects?" ask Ron suspiciously.
Hermione shrugged. "Just thought I was showing proper interest in my house team. Come on, we'll be late."
They hurried along the corridor, arriving at the Potions Dungeon at the same time as Mundungus Fletcher. The professor went to the front of the class, as the students filed in and took their customary seats. Mundungus Fletcher was an unsmiling, jowly man with a florid complexion, close-cropped grey hair and icy blue eyes. Harry remembered now that Mr Weasley had had some sort of trouble with him in the past, and now that Harry had seen this man up close, he could easily imagine it.
The Potions professor began the class by taking the register, and Harry was surprised that he received no reply when he arrived at Draco Malfoy's name. Harry hadn't noticed Malfoy's absence when he'd entered the dungeon, as he was almost late himself, but turning now he could see that the place where the Slytherin usually sat was empty. He exchanged a look with Ron and Hermione. Ron looked pleased. Now they would find out whether they could expect favouritism.
"Where is Mr Malfoy?" Professor Fletcher asked the Slytherins. No one answered. "I know he was at breakfast. Now where has he got to?" Fletcher demanded in a louder voice. Still no reply. "Let's see, that will be…"
At that moment Draco Malfoy came through the door. Fletcher turned and demanded, "And just what was so important that you decided to waste my time and this class'?"
Malfoy stared sullenly at the professor. "I had to send an important message to my family. It was an emergency."
"I see. Well your emergency is going to cost Slytherin twenty points for being late. Parkinson?"
"Here."
Harry looked over at Ron again. Ron was positively gleeful, but Harry had a bit of a sinking feeling. If Fletcher was ready to be so harsh with a member of his own house, he was certainly going to be strict with everyone. Harry could only hope he'd be fair. It seemed as if Hermione shared some of Harry's worries, judging by her expression.
"Zabini?"
"Here."
"As you know, I am replacing Professor Snape this year. My job will be to prepare you to take your NEWTs. The potions you will be preparing this year will require a great deal of precision and concentration. Attention to detail will be very important. I therefore will not tolerate any unnecessary talking or messing about in this class. You will work in with partners. I will allow you to choose your partners for now, but I will reassign partners if I deem it necessary."
Ron had slouched down into his seat now, seeming to try to make himself as small as possible. Whatever optimism he may have felt upon entering the class had definitely vanished. Hermione, on the other hand, looked at Fletcher rather approvingly. She seemed ready to take on the challenge.
Half an hour later, Harry was furiously chopping dragon scales for the Fortitude Potion the class was making. It was difficult enough to cut them in the first place, as they were so tough, but achieving the uniform dice required by the potion was nearly impossible. Fletcher was moving from table to table criticising technique. He'd even found an excuse to take points from Gryffindor when he found Parvati's tarot cards lying on her chair.
It didn't add to Harry's confidence that he'd been stuck working with Neville. Becoming a prefect may have done wonders for Neville's self-confidence, but it hadn't made him any more competent at Potions. For a few moments, Harry had been tempted to avenge himself for Neville's making him come up to bed the night before, but now he was glad he'd decided against it. Harry had already averted disaster once, stirring their bubbling brew down as it threatened to boil over. He had no doubt that would have cost Gryffindor even more house points.
Harry had just finished muttering the final incantation ('fortitudem frimare') over the cauldron when Professor Fletcher announced that time was up. There were still about fifteen minutes left in the period, the time usually allotted to cleaning up, but the potions teacher had something else in mind.
"We are going to test your results now. One student of each pairing will take some of the potion. Everyone will receive marks based on the results of the entire class. In other words, the more of you that have got it right, the higher your mark will be."
Harry cringed slightly. He looked quickly around the class, trying to assess how many of them were likely to have made a proper Fortitude Potion. He was certain Hermione and Ron had done it right. Malfoy had always done well with Snape, so there was a good chance his was right, as well. On the other hand, Crabbe and Goyle were sure to have botched theirs--they'd be fortunate not to need some sort of antidote. As for his own potion, when Neville was your partner, you could never be sure what to expect.
This brought another problem to Harry's mind. The last thing Neville needed was anything that would give him more backbone. He was already impossible. But Harry wasn't at all sure he wanted to sample any potion Neville had had a hand in making.
Professor Fletcher was walking over to their table, looking rather displeased. Millicent Bulstrode had apparently done something wrong and turned a rather interesting shade of puce as a result. Acting quickly, Harry grabbed a ladle and gulped down a mouthful of the potion. Its foul taste caused him to grimace.
"Well, Potter?" demanded Fletcher. "Do you feel any different?"
Glumly, Harry shook his head. It was difficult to tell what Fletcher was thinking. His face remained completely impassive. Fletcher continued on. Harry was surprised when Ron told the teacher that he felt no effects of the potion, either. Harry had expected Hermione, at least, to get the potion right. After Fletcher had finished his rounds, he merely said he was disappointed in the results. He did not announce what mark he was giving the class.
When the bell finally rang, a general feeling of relief pervaded the room, as everyone gathered up his things and headed to the Great Hall for lunch. None of the seventh year Gryffindors said much during the meal. They were all still shell-shocked. On top of a harrowing class, the potion Harry had taken was weighing heavily on his stomach, effectively killing his appetite. In the middle of it all, Ginny came in and sat in the empty seat across from Harry. She played with her food, not taking a single bite until Hermione asked her if anything was bothering her.
Ginny looked up at Hermione, her eyes wary. "No, nothing's wrong." But there was something in the way she said it that made Harry certain she wasn't being truthful.
Hermione pursed her lips and tried a different approach. "Have you had Potions class yet?"
Ginny continued to play with her food, and her reply was non-committal. "Not yet."
"You'll want to watch out for Fletcher," warned Ron. "He's at least as bad as Snape. He doesn't even give his own house a break."
Ginny didn't look up or reply. "What class did you just come from then?" asked Hermione.
Ginny mumbled something that Harry didn't catch. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. "Sorry I didn't hear you."
"Defence Against the Dark Arts."
Ron perked up at this. The seventh year Gryffindors weren't due to have this class until later that afternoon. "So what's Krum like?"
Ginny looked up at her brother. "He's creepy."
"What did he do?" asked Ron, astonished.
"I don't want to talk about it." And she got up and left the table.
Harry watched her go, feeling as if there was a leaden weight in his stomach. He remembered Viktor Krum from the Triwizard Tournament and had almost always thought he was all right. An image of Krum putting the Cruciatus Curse on Cedric Diggory flashed through his mind, raising doubts. No, Harry reminded himself. Krum had been under the Imperius Curse at the time; he hadn't been acting of his own volition.
Hermione, meanwhile, was defending Krum to Ron. "He was always a perfect gentleman with me. He's quite nice."
"And just when have you been around him lately?" argued Ron. "You haven't seen him since fourth year." This much was true. Hermione and Krum may have exchanged an owl or two since then, but she hadn't been able to visit Bulgaria that summer. Her parents hadn't been inclined to take her, and there never had been a question of her going by herself.
Harry looked up at the head table where Krum was seated between Professor Grubbly-Plank and Professor Sprout, eating his lunch and chatting with the other professors. It all looked amicable enough, and Harry couldn't detect anything odd or creepy in his demeanour. He'd have to pay closer attention later that afternoon.
When they got to Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry made sure he took a front seat, in order to observe Krum's behaviour more closely. Ron and Hermione seemed ready to go along with this plan. Once the class was over, Harry couldn't say that'd he'd noticed anything particularly off about Krum, except…
"I can't believe he spent that whole class going over Hinkypunks!" Hermione complained once the final bell had rung. "We're in our last year. We're at war, for heaven's sake, and he wastes the class going over something we learned in third year!"
"Calm down, Hermione," said Ron. "Perhaps he was revising."
"Why would he choose to revise that of all things? We had Hinkypunks on our OWLs. If we don't know that by now, we never will. Why couldn't we learn something useful, like how to conjure a Patronus?"
"He's new to teaching, Hermione. Maybe this was his way of getting into the subject slowly. With all the work that's being piled on us in other classes, I'm glad someone is giving us a break."
"Ron, this is probably our most important class. We ought to be learning something useful. I'm sure he could show us a thing or two. If Dumbledore hired him, he must be qualified."
While Harry privately agreed with Hermione about Defence Against the Dark Arts being their most important class this year, he also agreed with Ron about having a bit of a break. He knew he could always make up some ground on his own time by reading the book Hermione had given him for his birthday. If he ever managed to find some time to himself. With his course-load, Quidditch (once the season started) and Neville's curfew, there wasn't very much time left he could call his own.
"Ron, about Quidditch…" Harry broke in.
"What?" Ron was clearly distracted by his argument with Hermione. It had become a sort of game with them.
"Are we going to hold try-outs for reserve players or not?"
"Oh, sure. Why don't you put up a notice in the common room? I think Hermione needs a nice walk outside to, erm, unwind." The weather had finally turned warm and sunny, and most students were out enjoying the day now that classes were over.
Harry went back to Gryffindor Tower by himself. He set his bag down on a table in the common room and searched for a decent piece of parchment. He thought about what he was going to put in the notice and realised that Ron hadn't even set a date to hold try-outs. He sighed. Ron was supposed to be Quidditch captain; it was up to him to make these decisions. He also noticed he didn't have any parchment that was in good enough condition to make up a notice. He'd have to get some from his trunk upstairs. While he was there, he decided he might as well get some different coloured ink to make his notice stand out.
Harry climbed the steps to the seventh year boys' dormitory and was surprised to find the door closed. Not only that, it was locked. He paused for a moment and considered. None of the others had come up here: they'd all just come from class together. So who could have locked the door? Harry drew his wand. "Alohomora!"
The door swung open, and he walked into the room. A figure was rummaging through his trunk. The person's back was turned, but red hair was unmistakable. Harry cleared his throat, and Ginny froze.
"What are you doing, Ginny?"
She straightened and turned, her face flooding with colour. "Harry!" she gasped. She hesitated, obviously embarrassed at being caught. "Erm, would you mind closing the door?"
Harry raised his eyebrows at her. Whatever had been bothering her earlier seemed to be an issue no longer. She was definitely up to something: her eyes were sparkling with mischief. When Harry didn't do as she'd asked, she sighed and went over to the door herself. Harry heard her mutter a Locking Charm.
Harry walked over to his trunk. Everything seemed to be in its place. Ginny must have just got there when he'd interrupted her. "Are you going to tell me what you were doing going through my things?" he asked again, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I was looking for your birthday present."
Harry's heart began to pound. She couldn't know about Sirius' book, could she? And what gave her the right to come up here and take it without asking? "My birthday present? Listen Ginny…"
"I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd mind."
"Mind? Of course I mind! You can't just come up here and go through my things!"
She fixed her gaze at the floor, colouring further. "Well, I thought I could use it to get a little revenge." She looked him straight in the eye now. "You know, on Neville."
Harry stared at her. What did Sirius' book have to do with that? And how did she even know about it? Harry remembered Hermione sprawled out with it on Ron's bed, and he wondered what, exactly, she'd read in it to make her say something about it to Ginny, something which would give Ginny the impression she could use it for revenge on Neville. "I don't understand. Maybe you'd better explain from the beginning."
Ginny frowned slightly, as if the answer ought to be obvious. "The twins gave you a whole box of tricks, Harry. Remember?" She said it slowly as if she was talking to a small child. "Didn't it ever occur to you to do something to Neville to get back at him for last night?"
Harry felt his face heat, whether at the reminder of what had almost happened in the common room or because he felt stupid for not guessing her purpose sooner, he didn't know. "Oh."
"Well, what else could you have thought?"
Harry knew better than to answer that. Instead, he reached into his trunk and pulled out the twins' present. He sat down on his bed with it. "What do you fancy?"
Ginny came over and after a moment's hesitation, sat down beside him. Harry felt as if the temperature in the room had risen several degrees. "What does all this do?" she asked, leaning over slightly to look at the contents of the box. Her thigh brushed against his.
"Er, I'm not sure what all of it does, yet. Do you have any idea what you want to do to him?"
"Not really. I thought I'd get some ideas by looking at this stuff."
"Oh, well, you know, we'll have to come up with something fast before someone decides to come up here. You're not supposed to be up here in the first place. I thought you knew that, as a prefect." He grinned at her and nudged her with his shoulder, feeling an odd tingle pass through him at the contact.
Ginny nudged back. "Shut it, you. Besides, I put a Locking Charm on the door."
"Which I broke through with a spell that Hermione discovered in first year. Honestly, if the twins knew about this, you'd never live it down."
Ginny looked up at him and opened her mouth to say something, but instead their gazes locked. Harry was suddenly aware that they were completely alone in his dormitory with the door locked. He had a strange feeling that if the twins were ever to find out that he'd sat on his bed with their sister, and all he'd done was look at some joke items and tease her, he'd never live it down, either. He felt the smile fade from his face, as he saw Ginny's do the same.
A noise outside on the landing shattered the moment. Someone was trying unsuccessfully to open the door. It was only a matter of time until whoever it was resorted to magic. Ginny looked at Harry in a panic. He motioned to her to stay silent. Moving as quickly and quietly as possible, Harry stuffed the box of practical jokes into his trunk and pulled out his invisibility cloak. Out on the landing, a muffled voice could be heard reciting an incantation. When the door didn't open immediately, they knew it was Neville. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her against the wall as he threw the invisibility cloak over the two of them.
The door opened and Neville came storming in, ready to take points off whoever had had the audacity to lock him out of his dormitory. He stopped short when he saw that the room appeared empty. Harry knew that Neville could not see either him or Ginny, but that did not stop his heart from pounding. He was obliged to stand very close to Ginny to ensure that the cloak covered the two of them, and he couldn't stop himself from noticing how well she might fit against him. Her head came up to his shoulder, as if it was made to lie there, and he was tempted to put his arms around her to see how she would feel in them.
Neville was looking around the room suspiciously, trying to determine what had happened. When he turned up no clues, he turned and began looking through Dean Thomas' night table. Then he proceeded to go through Dean's trunk. Harry was outraged. Prefect or no, what right did Neville have to do that? Harry was about to throw off the cloak and confront Neville, when he remembered he couldn't give Ginny away. He looked into her eyes and saw the questions evident there, but he had no answers for her.
Neville finished with Dean's things and moved on to Seamus' night table. Harry swallowed. Neville was obviously going to search through everyone's private belongings, and Harry's bed was next in line. He and Ginny were wedged into the space between his bed and night table. It was going to be next to impossible to escape detection once Neville got that far. Reflexively, Harry pushed them both closer to the wall, trying to take up as little space as possible.
They could hear Neville muttering to himself, as he rifled through Seamus' things. Harry thought he heard the words "Butterbeer Hardcore", but it was difficult to tell. His heart was still pounding, the sound of it loud in his ears. In another minute, Neville would move on to Harry's things, and the game might very well be up then.
Harry's mind raced as he went over the possibilities in his mind, and he found himself wishing that he'd hidden under the bed with Ginny. He considered coming out of hiding to confront Neville once more, but there was no way of conveying this plan silently to Ginny. It's success hinged on her knowing to stay hidden under the cloak. When things began to look really desperate, Harry drew his wand intending to put the Full Body Bind on Neville at unawares.
"Mr Longbottom! What is the meaning of this?"
Neville had been standing less than a foot from them, his hand extended to open the drawer of Harry's night table, when Professor McGonagall's voice caused him to freeze on the spot. Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. He looked at Ginny to see her eyes widen. On one hand the arrival of the head of Gryffindor House had saved them from discovery; on the other, they weren't out of the woods yet by a long shot, and they both knew it.
"Pr-Professor McGonagall," Neville stammered, and for a moment Harry was reminded of how Neville had looked during their third year when it had been discovered that he'd left the list of passwords lying about, permitting Sirius Black to gain admittance to Gryffindor Tower. "I was… I was just…"
Professor McGonagall entered the room, crossed her arms and tapped a foot expectantly.
"I'd heard that someone had a stash of contraband, Professor," said Neville, regaining his composure. "I was conducting a search."
"This is not proper procedure for conducting a search, Mr Longbottom. You ought to know that. It's a good thing I heard about this. This is a very serious matter, Mr Longbottom. Come with me. I believe we need to hold an emergency prefects' meeting." And she frog-marched Neville out of the room.
Harry let out a much longer sigh of relief, as he took the invisibility cloak and stepped away from Ginny. She was giggling.
"Ginny, you're going to have to get out of here now," Harry pointed out. "You'll have to go to that prefects' meeting."
Ginny looked disappointed. "Damn it, you're right. But I'm not through with him. Whatever McGonagall decides to do to him, I'm still planning revenge."
"We'll have to plan it later."
Ginny turned and gave him a searching look. Then a smile spread over her face. She looked at the invisibility cloak in Harry's hands. "I imagine that's very useful for sneaking out after curfew," she remarked.
"Erm, yeah, it is. It's served a time or two."
"So meet me tonight, and we'll finish this. I've got to run. Which is Neville's bed?"
Harry pointed it out, and Ginny drew her wand. "Drapus curtus!" Harry watched as the blankets flew off of Neville's bed and rearranged themselves. The bed looked perfectly made once more, but Harry was sure Neville would have a hard time getting into it tonight. "And that's just for starters," Ginny said before leaving the room.
*
Harry lay in bed later that night listening to the other boys' snores. He was certain they were all asleep by now, but it wasn't time for him to meet Ginny in the common room yet. Earlier in the evening she'd slipped him a note that said she'd be meet him at one AM. He had the invisibility cloak ready, along with the box of practical jokes.
When his watch indicated the time had come, Harry slipped out of bed, donned the invisibility cloak and stole down to the common room. There had been a fire in the grate earlier, but it had died down to glowing embers now, and most of the room was cast into shadow. "Ginny?" he called in as loud a whisper as he dared, "are you here?"
There was no reply. She wasn't there yet. Harry removed the invisibility cloak and went over to a seat near the fire to wait. He thought back to her odd reaction at lunchtime and determined to ask her about that. Something wasn't quite right there. Whatever had happened with Viktor Krum, by later in the afternoon, she'd acted as if nothing had gone wrong at all that morning. He was also curious about the prefects' meeting. Neville had not turned up at supper, and Hermione had sent everyone up to bed. When Harry had entered the dormitory, Neville was already in bed with the hangings drawn. Presumably he'd remade his bed before climbing into it.
"Harry?" Heard a voice calling softly.
"I'm here," he replied.
The next thing he knew, she was sitting close beside him on the sofa. Her dressing gown and night dress were both white, but the dying embers cast an orange glow about her. She tucked her legs underneath her, causing her to lean closer. Harry felt his cheeks begin to heat and was glad of the darkness, which hid his blush.
"Do you still want to get revenge on Neville?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, although I don't suppose the matter is as pressing as it was." She paused and giggled. "He was in quite a lot of trouble earlier on. He came very close to losing his prefect's badge. We voted on it, you know."
"And how did you vote?"
"I voted to keep him on. Had to, really. How would it have looked if I'd voted against a prefect from my own house? Malfoy voted against him, of course."
"No surprise there."
"No, and the other Slytherins voted with Malfoy. It was much closer than you'd have expected."
This was likely true. Even though he'd been awkward, Neville had been well enough liked by his peers in the past. It was only the seriousness, with which he took his present role as a prefect, that had contributed to any unpopularity. But not in Malfoy's case. Malfoy had held Neville in contempt ever since first year.
Ginny shifted, and her arm brushed against Harry's. He looked down at her, meeting her eyes. For a moment he couldn't look away, but he finally forced himself to. Here he was, finally having a normal conversation with Ginny, and he was a bit reluctant to allow himself to become distracted by… other matters just yet. He still hadn't asked her about Viktor Krum, but he didn't want to ruin things by upsetting her.
"Perhaps Neville will relax a bit now," he said to fill the silence.
"Yeah, I think he's had a good scare. So, what did he think about his bed being short-sheeted?"
Harry smiled into the darkness. "Dunno. He was already in bed when I went up earlier."
"Then he's definitely had a good scare."
"And you still want to get revenge?"
"Of course I do."
"Remind me never to cross you."
"It doesn't have to be much." She laughed again, more richly this time. "I'm already getting away with something against the rules by being down here tonight." Her tone had changed as she said this, and Harry was sure she was trying to insinuate something.
His impression was confirmed when he felt her shift against him again. He was more aware than ever that they were alone in the dark. He turned towards her once more and found her looking at him. He swallowed. This was it. Just don't think about it… He leaned closer, and she did the same. He touched his lips to hers carefully and experienced the same rush as he had the last time. He pulled back after a moment when he realised his glasses were getting in the way. There was now a large smudge on one of the lenses where it had pressed against her cheek.
He was surprised when she reached up, plucked the glasses from his nose and laid them aside, before placing her hand at the nape of his neck and leaning close once more. He met her halfway, and it all seemed much easier this time. He could feel her begin to kiss him back, and the sensation sent a shock wave through him. He tilted his head a little further to the side, while his hands found their way to her waist, seeking to draw her closer to him. Then she opened her mouth under his, and he had no choice but to follow, and conscious thought left him for a while.
When at last they broke apart, they each had to pause and catch their breath. Ginny's fingers had somehow twined themselves into his hair, and Harry's hands were still stroking her back. They must have found their way there on their own. He'd never imagined she would taste so sweet, that she would feel so warm and alive in his arms. He would have told her so, but he wasn't feeling very articulate at the moment. A breathless "wow" was the best he could manage.
Ginny giggled and burrowed in against him. His arms tightened around her of their own accord, and he held her quietly while his hands discovered the soft texture of her hair. He felt her relax against his chest and remembered it was very late. They both needed to go to bed soon, and there was still the matter of her behaviour at lunch.
"Ginny," he began tentatively, unsure of her reaction. "I need to ask you something. It's about earlier."
She drew back and looked at him. He reached for his glasses and put them back on so he could see her properly. "What?" she asked.
"Earlier at lunch…" He broke off. He really didn't want to upset her now.
"What about it?" She sounded genuinely confused.
"What happened in Defence Against the Dark Arts that set you off like that?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
This didn't add up. She sounded as if she honestly didn't know what he was on about. "But you said Krum was creepy. What made you say that?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, Harry."
He decided not to pursue the matter with her. The last thing he wanted to do now was argue with her. He merely filed the problem away to reflect on later. He felt she was telling the truth now, as he felt what she'd said about Krum at lunch was true. The problem was, the two truths contradicted each other. He only had to work out why.
He stood up, extending a hand to her to help her up. "It's late. We'd better get to bed." Gathering his invisibility cloak and box from the twins, he led her to the girls' staircase, where he softly kissed her good night.
Chapter 8