Title: "Seeking
Ginny"
Author: Casca
Rating: PG
Spoilers: Through
Goblet
Classification:
Post-Hogwarts H/G
Summary: Ginny
Weasley has tried for years to bring to an end to her feelings for Harry
Potter… she's even uprooted her life… but what happens when it's time to come
face to face with him again? A post-Hogwarts tale revolving around Ginny's
discovery of herself…while coming to terms with her feelings for Harry.…
Disclaimer: This
story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling,
various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic
Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros. Inc. No money is being made and no
copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: There
is no way I will come close to finishing Seeking Ginny before Order of the
Phoenix. While I cannot say for sure what will happen to this fic if the
fifth book changes anything I've written, I can let you know that Seeking Ginny
will either A) become an AU or, B) suffer a few changes, corrections to
previously posted chapters if I wish to accommodate whatever new canon we get.
Because, as of right now, we will be seeing Ginny again in exactly… ten
days. (Stifling the urge to type out a very long, excited shrieking
sound.) Thank you VERY much for all the feedback!
A/N:
This chapter has been revised as of October 2005.
Chapter
Three
The letter from Hermione that Ginny had forgotten to
read remained unopened on her desk for weeks. After Ginny finally got around to
reading it, several hexes came to mind, all of which she promised to cast on
herself the minute she was alone.
I don't know
many of the details, wrote Hermione,
since he's been on assignment, but the Daily Prophet reported that Harry is
supposed to attend a series of meetings at France's Ministry over the course of
the next few weeks. If you happen to run into him, would you ask him if he can
receive owls? You know how he is with keeping in contact and I want to be
sure that he can receive letters because sometimes when he's on assignments….
Ginny had stared at the words, mentally accusing
herself of being a complete arse for allowing the knowledge of Harry's visit to
Paris remain concealed in an unopened letter for bloody weeks when all of a
sudden, a decrepit-looking Errol came flying through the window, slamming right
into the back of her head. The letter from her mum carried yet another
warning of Harry's Paris whereabouts, this one delayed not by Ginny's laziness,
but by the elderly owl. After cursing herself and her bird, Ginny apologized to
Errol, then allowed herself a long, ironic laugh that the information she would
have been quite happy to know came too late.
In her letter, Molly explained that Harry would
probably be dreadfully busy in Paris and have no time even to look Ginny up, so
she may want to owl him. Perhaps you two
can get together to catch up, she'd written.
Catch up.
Ginny'd had a good chuckle at that—her mother had used
the same words Ginny had when actually inviting Harry. But that had been a few
days ago and she had no intentions of sending him an owl to repeat her offer.
It was obvious that he was very busy in Paris and quite frankly, so was
she.
As promised, Brian had been able to secure a ticket to
the event that would put Ginny and Madame Millicent in the same room together
and Ginny had spent all week putting together her interview in case she was
able to charm Madame into sitting for it at the convention. However, when
Friday arrived, it seemed as though everything was preventing her from actually
getting home to get ready for the formal event. Her Gobbledygook
professor asked her to stay after the lesson so that he could talk to her about
her essay and Ginny spent almost thirty minutes listening to him praise her for
a job well done. She was, of course, pleased with that, but the minutes were
ticking by and she still had to go to Aurelie's house to borrow some formal
robes.
And as though she hadn't wasted enough time at
l'Academie, nearly two hours later, Ginny found herself inside her friend's
colorful bedroom surrounded by more dresses and robes than Ginny had ever seen
in her life. There were so many she didn’t know how to choose.
"I think I like these…" she said, studying
her reflection in a full-length mirror. They were long panels of dark blue that
pulled at the shoulder and tucked at the waist, then flowed to the tops of her
feet and halfway down her arms. Formal, business-like and not showy at
all. "But I can't borrow them, they're way too expensive."
Aurelie promptly rolled her eyes. "Three
Sickles and four Knuts at Celine's Second Hand Robes."
Ginny's mouth fell open. "Three Sickles?"
"I know how to find a bargain."
"Clearly."
Thanking her friend profusely, Ginny carefully wrapped
up the robes so that they wouldn’t become wrinkled and swiftly raced home. Once
she was showered and dressed and feeling taller than ever from Aurelie's shoes,
Ginny grabbed the little invitation card from her bedside table and hurried
from her bedroom. She stopped in her tracks as Brian let out a low whistle.
"It's times like these when I wonder why you and
I never did get together, love," he said, grinning.
Normally, Ginny flirted back when he made comments
like these, but this time she found herself biting her lip nervously. "Do
I look like a tart?"
"Among other things," he said appreciatively
and Ginny huffed out a breath.
"I don't want to look like a tart tonight,
Brian," she said between her teeth.
"I know, I was only joking. You look very
sophisticated."
"Thank you," she said graciously.
"You don’t look so bad either."
"I know," he said, so dismissively that
Ginny shook her head on another laugh. "Let's hope Silvia thinks
so."
"Silvia? Do I know her?" she asked, clasping
a bracelet on her arm.
"Silvia Gordon. That American witch, she was in
Elvish with you last term."
Ginny nodded. "Right, well, I've heard she's a tart,
so you won’t have any trouble there."
He grinned. "So, d'you think you might be home
early?"
Ginny started to say she didn’t know, and then she
narrowed her eyes at him. "Why? Oh, don’t say it," she said,
turning red. "Look, just… make sure you've cast the proper … Silencing
Charm, all right?"
He jerked his head towards his bedroom. "Already
done."
She let out a laughing breath and drew her wand.
"Have fun."
"Always. Good luck, Gin."
"Thanks."
****
The Ministry had set up an Apparition spot located in
the middle of its grounds, just outside the function. It was a different
building than the one Ginny had been to earlier that week and was adorned with
a huge banner that read in bold letters, the name of the event: International
Auror's Convention.
She walked up a long, winding pathway and the second
she stepped inside the building, a guard stopped her to ask for her invitation.
Holding her breath, Ginny looked on as the guard inspected the invitation
carefully, then breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded his head and ushered
her into the ballroom. Ginny bit her lip to hold back a grin. She was in.
There was a hum of chatter as hundreds of people,
dressed mostly in black (Ginny cast a tentative glance down at her blue robes),
milled around in small groups, sipping from delicate goblets and speaking to
one another in dull voices. Ginny wondered briefly if she would ever have to
attend something like this if she took a Ministry job. But then, her profession
would not be nearly as prominent as Aurorship, so perhaps not.
It occurred to her as she scanned the ballroom that
she didn’t really know what Millicent looked like; she'd seen her photograph in
a few history books, but she had looked young in those—nowhere near what her
age was currently rumored to be. Ginny's eyes roamed the sea of faces,
trying to decipher which one might be older than everyone else and after about
ten seconds of finding many possible candidates, Ginny decided to ask.
"Excuse me," she said quietly to the first
person she saw—a witch who also looked a few hundred years old. "Do
you know where I might find Madame Mardeax?"
"Why, that's her right there, dear," she
said pointing discreetly to possibly the tallest woman Ginny had ever seen.
She was standing with a small group of people, all of
whom seemed to be staring up at her in awe and hanging onto every word she was
saying. Ginny bit her lip and idly took a few steps towards them,
wondering how to go about this. She decided that it would be best to approach
her when she wasn't in the middle of a conversation; however, that was going to
be quite a challenge, since it was clear that Madame might be something of a
popular lady here. She remembered Brian had said that she was a speaker
tonight.
She would normally walk up to the group and introduce
herself, but as she stood in the middle of the lavish ballroom next to a table
of sweets that would make Ron keel over in ecstasy, a little nagging feeling
was telling her that it would be poor taste to use the group as a shield
between herself and Millicent. Ginny wondered what to do for a moment,
staring down at the largest bowl of rice pudding that she had ever seen, and
finally decided that she would go with her instincts and wait for Millicent's
conversation to finish. Inching closer and pretending to be interested in the
array of desserts, her eyes wandered to the group every few seconds, prepared
to make a beeline when they finished.
"Pardon," said a familiar voice as an arm
reached out to take a napkin from the table.
Ginny's brows snapped together. Harry.
Their eyes locked over the rhubarb tart. In her mind's
eye, Ginny could picture the look on her own face mirroring his—a completely
unflattering mask of shock.
There was a momentary pause before,
"Ginny?" he asked in disbelief.
She was speechless. Then something clicked in her
mind. International Auror's Convention.
Auror.
"Harry," she said, surprise evident in her
voice. "I…" She was about to say that she hadn't expected to
see him here, but that was a bit of an odd thing to say, considering his
profession. He was the Auror.
"I suppose it's a bit obvious why you're here," she said finally,
allowing a smile as her eyes darted towards Millicent to make sure she hadn't
left. "I can’t believe I didn't think that I'd see you here."
"What—what are you doing here?" Harry asked
her with a smile and though Ginny could tell he was trying not to look or sound
too puzzled, she could also sense a bit of relief on his face. She understood
why, being the only person his age for miles.
"I need to speak with Madame Mardeax," she
said, gesturing to her. "It's an assignment for one of my courses."
Harry's brows were drawn in bewilderment as he looked
at Millicent for a moment, and then back to Ginny. "Oh… well, if I'd
have known you were coming, I would have looked for you sooner. It's dead dull
here."
Ginny smiled. "I actually didn’t know I was
coming until last minute. I missed her the other day at the Ministry and
a friend of mine was able to get an invitation for me. I'm taking the chance
that I might be able to discuss my assignment with her, but it seems as though
every time I look at her, she's talking to a huge group."
Harry nodded, his eyes traveling around the room with
an unfocused kind of boredom that told Ginny he was very used to this sort of
thing. "You're probably going to have to join the group if you want to
talk to her. Don’t ask me why, but she's sort of popular at these
things," he said in a bored voice and Ginny bit her lip nervously, looking
back at the rather formidable looking group that Millicent stood with.
"I was going to pop into your café," Harry
said after a while, seemingly being woken out of his reverie of staring blankly
around the room. "But I've been a bit busy and…."
"Oh, it's no problem. I wasn't working that much
this week anyway, I probably wouldn’t have been there if you had."
This seemed to suffice. Harry nodded.
After what seemed like forever, standing with Harry
looking around the room as though something might change about it, Ginny
started to feel the tedium of the place and its people creep up on her. She was
doing the same thing he was—only she was watching Millicent and her group,
something that was even more hopeless to change. However, just when her mind
began to travel elsewhere, it appeared as though a few people in the group were
leaving! Ginny straightened and shook her head slightly to clear the fog of
dullness that had settled over her mind, watching as two people drifted off.
At last, Millicent nodded politely to the remaining people and turned to walk
away. Ginny's heart gave a leap.
"Will you excuse me, Harry?"
Harry looked at her in surprise as though he'd
forgotten that she was standing there and nodded.
For a lady who was rumored to be almost two hundred
years old, she moved rather quickly, Ginny thought, as she hurried after her
through the reception area and into the foyer. Just when she thought
there was nowhere else for her to go, as it appeared she was walking right into
a wall, Madame pulled open a door and disappeared behind it. When Ginny
came closer, she stopped and saw a little plaque on the door that read Witches.
Well, this was an unexpected surprise, she thought
happily, arranging her robes a bit and tucking a strand of loose hair behind
her ear. This would give Ginny ample opportunity to catch her the minute she
stepped out. She couldn’t help a little grin of excitement. She was making this
happen. Straightening her shoulders and fixing her robes once more, Ginny
clasped her hands together in front of her, stepped to the side of the door,
and waited.
And waited.
Almost twenty minutes later, she looked at her wrist,
forgetting that she hadn’t worn a watch and furrowed her brow. How long
had she been in there?
"Did it go alright?" said a voice at her
side, making her jump.
"Oh. Harry." He was standing there with his
hands shoved into the pockets of his formal business robes, looking mildly
curious. "No, I haven’t had the chance to speak to her yet."
He lifted a brow. "Well, what have you
been…." His eyes traveled to the sign on the door. "Ah…
waiting?"
Ginny puffed out a breath. "She's been in
there for—" she went to look at her missing watch again, "I dunno how
long, but it has to have been at least twenty minutes or so."
Harry frowned and they peered at each other as though
thinking the same thing.
"You don’t think…" Ginny began in a low
voice, her gaze traveling back to the door. Perhaps Madame had fallen
ill… or… or worse. The thought that sprang into her head was very terrible
and Ginny tucked her tongue in her cheek, trying not to smile. It was a
horrid thing to think, honestly, but then again, she would be off
the hook on the interview if… the woman was no longer able to be interviewed.
Harry was looking at her, his eyes amused as though he
knew exactly where her mind was going.
"She's fine," Ginny said firmly, refusing to
laugh and looking back at the door just as it flung
open. Madame Millicent herself, very much alive and towering over both Ginny
and Harry, stepped out of the bathroom and walked swiftly away.
Ginny looked at Harry, startled.
"Go,"
he urged her and the word seemed to act on Ginny as an acceleration.
Nodding, she dashed off, back into the ballroom,
weaving her way in and out of the crowd, keeping a steady pace as she tried to
catch up with her. But the witch was moving so quickly and the only way
for Ginny to quicken her pace would be to push people down. Just as she
was nearing her, she found herself standing still, watching in horror as another
person seized the chance before she could.
"Millicent, darling, where have you been?"
exclaimed possibly the shortest witch Ginny had ever seen. "My husband has
been dying to meet
you!"
"Now, now, Adélaïde, I wouldn’t go that
far!" joked the husband, possibly the shortest wizard Ginny
had ever seen. He came up to about Millicent's knee.
Completely exasperated, Ginny wandered back to the
desserts table and pretended to look interested in its contents again. People
were going to think that she was the most undecided person in the world if she
kept staring at all the food and not doing anything about it.
"Still no luck?" Harry asked,
appearing out of nowhere as usual, and looking bored.
Ginny sighed a bit. "I didn’t catch her in
time."
"D'you want me to introduce you?" he
offered.
Ginny hesitated. It would make things easier, it
was true, but… she just couldn’t bring herself to accept. Looking
apologetic, she declined, "Actually, I think perhaps it will make a better
impression if I approached her myself. I did miss the appointment with
her secretary and everything…."
Harry nodded, accepting this without a word, and
resumed his slow observation of the room again, leaving Ginny to observe the
only thing that interested her right now: a certain raven-haired witch who
seemed more and more unapproachable every minute.
"There you are, Potter. I thought you couldn’t
find a date! Who is this lovely young witch?"
They were suddenly in the presence of a man who looked
to be in his forties with brown whiskers, whose heavily-browed eyes were
looking back and forth between Harry and Ginny. When Ginny realized that he had
been referring to herself, she managed a fixed smile.
"I couldn’t," Harry said shortly, covering
the pause quickly. "I've just run into a friend of mine. Ginny Weasley,
this is Sam Wells."
"Nice to meet you," Ginny said, smiling
obligingly at the man who looked ten times Harry's age and shook his proffered
hand.
Listening with half an ear to the incredibly boring
conversation between Harry and Sam Wells (Harry didn’t seem very enthusiastic
about the subject matter either), Ginny watched as three more people joined
Millicent's group, leaving a grand total of… ten. No, eleven.
"So you're… almost finished with university,
then?" Harry asked her after Sam Wells had left. Since she knew that
the group of eleven wasn't going to disperse anytime soon, she turned towards
Harry. He was holding a drink in his hand and his demeanor seemed… mild.
Mild and detached. She had to smile to herself.
"Yes," Ginny nodded. "I'll be
completely finished at the end of July."
"End of July?" he asked curiously.
"Isn't that a bit late?"
"Well, we have three terms to each year. Last
term of the year begins in May and will go until the last week in July,"
she explained. "It's the shortest of the year."
Ginny chanced a glance over his shoulder to see if
Millicent had made any progress in getting away. No such luck—it seemed
as if even more people had joined in.
Harry followed her gaze, then turned back with an
apologetic look on his
face. "She's not making this easy for you, is she?"
Ginny smiled. "Well, I thought it wouldn’t
take very long tonight, but I suppose I'm just stuck here for a while.
I'll catch up with her sooner or later."
He lifted a brow. "Would you like something to
drink?"
"Um… no, that's all right."
"Are you sure? I was about to refill
mine."
Ginny gestured to his goblet. "What's that you're
drinking?"
He lifted the goblet and peered into it. "I don’t
even know… somebody suggested it. It's a little strong, though."
"Well, all right then. Something
non-alcoholic."
"Okay, I'll be right back."
After he left, Ginny turned her focus onto Millicent
and her group, wondering how much longer it would take and if she would be
sympathetic to Ginny's situation. All of these people seemed rather
important and Millicent would be obliged to converse with them, but Ginny was
just a student. This thought had her pondering whether or not she should accept
Harry's offer to introduce them. No doubt an introduction from Harry Potter
would be enough for Madame to be impressed with Ginny.
"Here you go."
Ginny looked up to see Harry holding out a goblet to
her. "Oh, thanks." She accepted and took a sip. It was
some sort of thick fruity blend that had an unusually good taste—although
Christian made better.
"Is that all right? I told the barman something
non-alcoholic."
"This is great," she smiled.
"Thanks."
Harry nodded and they lapsed into silence. Glancing at
him, she thought that it would be so easy to ask him for an introduction. He'd
already offered and… no. No, she just couldn’t. This was her
problem, not Harry's and she would be able to handle it on her own.
As they stood in silence, sipping their drinks, Ginny
thought that if she hadn't been so focused on Millicent, she would have felt
bad for not engaging Harry in conversation, but as it was, he didn’t seem too
interested in talking. Some of his colleagues spoke to him and he answered them
accordingly, but their conversations didn't last long—he didn’t seem in the
habit of keeping up with conversing after saying what needed to be said. Ginny
wished that the Auror she was interested in at the moment was as anti-social as
Harry—it would make this go much quicker.
Just then, she saw something that made her straighten;
someone from Millicent's group excused herself, and the rest of them seemed to
be dispersing. Ginny set down her glass. "I suppose that's my
cue."
Harry nodded, stepping aside. "Good luck.”
And so began the real chase. It was absolutely absurd.
Ginny strolled around the room, while Madame Hag, as she'd begun calling her,
went from group to group, talking about everything from complicated Ministry
statistics to her latest holiday in China. Ginny kept glancing at her wrist,
before she finally realized there was a grandfather clock in the corner of the
reception hall.
It was nearly two hours after she'd broken away from
Harry, when Millicent stepped from her party and began to head towards the
foyer again. Ginny walked swiftly after her, vowing to go inside the loo and
approach her in there—after all, it was time for drastic measures. However,
when she yanked open the door and stepped inside, every single cubicle was wide
open. The room was empty.
"Oh, no," she said feebly, rushing out of
the room and looking all around the entrance. Her eyes fell on the cloak
counter, which was located next to the reception entrance. Sighing
wearily, she approached an elf who was barely visible behind the low wall and
inquired if he had seen Millicent.
"Yes, Madame just picked up her cloak and left
for the evening."
Ginny's eyes slid closed.
"Will you be needing your cloak, then,
Madame?"
"I don't have one. Thank you," she smiled at
the formally dressed elf and turned numbly, letting out a long, slow
breath. She was positively fuming and every ounce of the anger that
bubbled inside of her was directed at herself. What on earth was wrong
with her? She had blown it, completely blown the entire thing and
why? Because she hadn’t been fast enough? Because she hadn’t set
aside her pride and asked Harry to introduce her?
Disgusted, she glanced back into the reception room;
her eyes fell on him. He was standing apart from most of the people, leaning
against a tall pillar, the very same drink still in his hand. The polite
thing to do was say goodbye to him, but embarrassment welled inside of her for
the situation she was now in. And she couldn’t help a bit of resentment. He
hadn't been able to find a date to this function…not even his "old
friend" who just happened to be living close by. She shook her head,
suddenly wanting to get home so she could have a proper temper tantrum in which
she could wallow in self-pity.
But she lingered at the door for too long. From
across the room, Harry looked up and caught her eye. Ginny forced a smile,
giving him a wave to indicate that she was leaving and she had to work to keep
the annoyance off her face when he pushed away from the pillar and walked
towards her.
"Did you talk to her, then?"
"No, I never got the chance. She left."
His face fell and Ginny looked away. "What are
you going to do?"
"Repeat the bloody course next term," she
said dryly, shaking her head.
Harry's eyes bugged out slightly, making Ginny feel
like bigger idiot than she already was. "Seriously?"
She gave a laughed. "Well this interview is
practically worth half of my final mark… I dunno… I'm still waiting to hear
from her secretary so… perhaps there's a chance it could work out. It's out of
my control, though."
"Well, what did you need to speak to her about? I
mean is there something I can do?"
She smiled. "I wish you could, but I had to
interview her about her Troll research and I'm sure she's all booked up by
now."
Harry sighed, looking thoughtful. Then he pulled a
face. "Why does Millicent get to leave? I'm stuck here until the
end."
Ginny couldn’t help laughing. "Well, I suppose
she needed to get her beauty sleep," she said, wearily attempting a joke.
At once, Harry grinned. "There's not enough
sleep in the world."
They laughed. "Oh, well. I should probably go home
and get mine," she went to glance at her watch again, but it wasn't there.
She felt somewhat guilty for leaving now that she actually did have the time to
talk to Harry, but her mind was an abundance of questions and worries and she
was anxious to go home and have that temper tantrum. Hopefully, Brian was home
early and she could take it out on him.
When she arrived home, however, Brian was nowhere to
be seen, however, the door to his bedroom was closed firmly and Ginny most
definitely saw light underneath the door. Stifling the urge to throw a pillow
from the sofa at the back of his door, or maybe kick it, Ginny marched into her
bedroom, making a production of kicking aside the mess she'd made getting ready
earlier, and flinging her dress aside before remembering that it was Aurelie's
and hastily picking it up to hang it neatly on a hanger. She pulled on
some comfortable nightclothes, then stalked around her bedroom, cleaning the
clutter rather violently. And noisily, she thought, smiling wickedly at the
wall she shared with Brian's room.
Every time she went over it in her head, all of her
reasoning lead to the only solution available—that she would have to repeat the
lesson next term. And while she had been experiencing a great deal of panic
lately over leaving Paris at the end of term, every time her thoughts landed on
not being able to go home, it felt like an arrow was piercing her heart.
She wanted more than anything to be home. Just be there. And for good, not
a brief visit. It was a feeling she got every once in a while when she
was lying in bed—a sort of shock that she was living here, so far away from her
family and her home. That was when she became homesick, when she counted
how many years, months, and weeks it was until she could leave.
Sometimes Ginny couldn't believe she'd lasted for the
complete five years, that finishing, actually finishing, was
within reach. It was an accomplishment that left her with a great deal of
pride…but it was time to go home and revel in it a bit. She'd return to England
having completed university in another country, having lived another life.
People would be proud of her and probably a little surprised. It was time for
that now. She was ready.
Ginny fell asleep that night, thinking about the day
she would finally step into her kitchen. It would be a party at her house
with all her brothers and her friends and everyone… and it would be at the end
of this term.
~*~
She awoke on Saturday morning with every intention of
owling in sick to work and going to the Ministry of Magic. It had been a week
since Ginny had contacted the secretary with no response. If Madame Mardeax
needed to be chased, Ginny would chase her.
Brian wasn't even awake as she stepped into the living
room bright and early, casting an uneasy glance at his closed bedroom door and
wondering briefly what had gone on her flat that she hadn't heard last night.
Not wanting to delve further into thought about that,
she grabbed her wand, ready to Apparate, when a flutter at the window had her
turning. It was an owl that she didn’t recognize and when she went to the
window and saw the little piece of parchment folded into a neat square, her
stomach gave a low drop. A circular crest in deep navy blue was sealed on the
fold. The Ministry Crest.
Her fingers trembling, she opened it.
Miss Weasley,
I do apologize,
but Madame Mardeax has departed this morning for a six-month holiday in
Greece. You will have to rebook when she returns.
Jeannette
Floréat
The Office of
Millicent Mardeax
~*~
Needless to say, it was a long day. Ginny spent
most of it at work, waiting to go home, but then, she had no idea why she
wanted to go back to the flat anyway—things wouldn't change once she got there.
If anything, she would focus on her problems more when she didn’t have anything
to do.
And she would still be in the same predicament there…
the same trouble.
She was working until the café closed that night
which, on a Saturday, meant very late. Christian and a new waitress with whom
Ginny wasn't well acquainted were working with her this shift and Ginny was
rather glad that Aurelie wasn't there. She just didn’t feel like having a good
time—and Aurelie could never understand that; no matter what hardships people
faced, she always expected to have fun and laugh.
But Ginny felt like crying. Or fuming. In fact, what
held her together all day was the prospect of nighttime when she would go home
and crawl into bed and have a good cry or maybe another temper tantrum.
And she wouldn’t tell Brian McGuire anything, she
thought stubbornly. There he'd been, locked up in his bedroom all morning with
some witch while Ginny had been in the living room dealing with the letter of
death. Brian would
get to go back to England at the end of term. Brian would
get to go home. Then she sighed somewhat wistfully. She had so been
looking forward to introducing him to her brothers and meeting his
mother.
She caught Christian's eye and forced a smile. She was
making him worry, she knew. From the look on her face upon walking into
the café earlier this afternoon, he'd inquired if it was that bad. She'd
nodded miserably and, for fear that she would get choked up, refrained from
talking about it anymore that night. She was glad that he didn’t press her to
tell him.
After they closed up for the night, Christian forced
her to walk with him to his flat because it was a legal Apparition distance to
hers and she did so without arguing. All she needed was to get mugged or
cursed on the way home.
Completely depressed when she finally made it back to
the flat, and becoming more so by the second when she noticed that Brian wasn't
around again when she
needed him, Ginny went to the windowsill to sit with the only person who loved
her. Her owl.
She would see Andel in Troll tomorrow… what was she
going to say? I couldn’t
catch her; she was just too quick for me. Ginny groaned. It sounded
so stupid when she thought about it now. She should have just interrupted
the bloody conversations. She should have been more forward, she should have
been herself and not
worry about stuffy old people and their opinions of her. Harry must have
thought she was so stupid, watching Millicent and not doing anything about it.
The panic was just starting to set in when her eyes
fell on a piece of parchment with her name scrawled across, lying on the
sideboard.
"Why didn’t you tell me I had an owl?" she
asked Maurice who appeared to shrug.
Not leaving her position on the windowsill, Ginny
leaned over, stretched her arm towards the sideboard and grabbed the letter,
glancing at it as she straightened.
Seeing her first name had never before been the cause
of such a violent reaction to her nerves.
It was Harry's handwriting. A flash of memories washed
over her. For a minute she was sixteen and standing in the kitchen of the
Burrow and a thrill was coursing through her from receiving a letter from him.
And as if she was back there, back in time, her heart began pounding at she
opened the folded parchment.
Ginny,
I was wondering
how things are going with your assignment. Have you heard from Millicent's
secretary yet? If she is booked up, I'd be willing to help you out. I
don’t know if this would work, but I've had a couple of years experience
working with Trolls. Do you think that you would be able to interview me
instead? I don’t work most nights, so I have the time. Let me know.
Harry
She hadn't realized it, but she'd been holding her
breath while she read the letter. She let it out in a rush and read it
again.
Her first thought was, yeah, right.
She could never, ever
interview Harry. That would be just too much of an imposition, she could
deal with this on her own, she would just have to—
What? She would just have to do what? There
was nothing. There
was no solution she had planned as a last resort. Everything relied on Andel
fixing the problem and Ginny knew that he wasn't going to be happy with her
dilemma—it all stemmed from her being late to make an appointment.
She read it again. And she couldn't help the
smile. Harry Potter. Harry Potter. Harry
Potter, who refused to give interviews to anybody.
Harry Potter who hadn't spoken to a
journalist since leaving Hogwarts. If there was any way to impress Andel
with a solution to her problem, this was it.
On the other hand, she hated taking advantage of
Harry's sense of responsibility. His offer was his classic Weasley
obligation, she could see that coming a dragons' tail length away.
But still. He had
offered. And this would not only put her name down in l'Academie
d'Aubervive history, but it would get her back home at the end of the semester,
just in time for her birthday.
Ginny bit her lip and glanced
down the letter again. After a few minutes more of contemplation, and
casting a great deal of pride aside, she picked up a quill and started to write
back.