Ginny's Gift, Chapter 6
Rated: PG-13
Summary: Ginny gives Harry a special birthday present, but the consequences are unexpected.
Harry and Ron put off packing their trunks until the last minute on September 1st. In the late afternoon, they went up to Ron's room, and socks, underwear and spare robes flew about, as they hurried to cram everything in. When they'd all but finished, they each changed into the set of school robes they'd laid aside and closed their trunks. They levitated them down to the kitchen, where the girls were waiting for them. Mrs Weasley was fussing with the hem of Ginny's robe, which was coming undone in the back.
"I can't charm it back into place. The fabric is too far gone. It won't hold out."
Ginny was looking over her shoulder trying to see the damage. "Well, there's no time to sew it back in place now," she sighed. "I'll see to it when I get to school." There was no time for her to change into another set of robes, either. "Just put a pin in it for now."
Mrs Weasley looked up to see that the boys were ready. "At last!" she exclaimed. "I wouldn't have fancied driving to London in this weather." The rain, which was coming down in buckets, was driven almost horizontal by vicious, icy winds. At times there came a clatter against the windows as if tiny pellets of ice were striking the panes instead of raindrops. "I hope the weather is nicer in the north."
She paused and took a deep breath before hugging each one in turn. When she released Harry, her eyes looked overly bright. "Have a good term, all of you," she said, looking from face to face. "Study hard, and stay out of trouble." She gave this last admonition particular emphasis. She took another great breath before continuing. "It's hard to believe you're almost finished school. It seems like only yesterday you were asking me how to get onto the platform, Harry." Her voice was beginning to quaver.
Ron looked at his watch. "It's time, Mum," he said, before Mrs Weasley could say anything further.
She removed a small vial from her apron pocket. "Right, then. Off you go."
Each of them in turn took a pinch of the special Floo powder. It was bluish, and when it was thrown into the flames, they turned purple rather than emerald green. Hermione went through first, as she had to contend with Crookshanks, who was hissing and spitting at being confined in a covered basket. There was no need to shout out the destination, since only one was possible, so when Harry's turn came, he merely cast his pinch of powder into the grate and stepped in with his trunk and Hedwig's cage.
He was soon whirling dizzily, but he saw no other fireplaces whizzing by. When he came stumbling to a halt, he ran straight into a grinning Fred. Or was it George? Harry couldn't tell, but he knew he'd arrived at Zonko's.
He quickly stepped aside to make room for Ginny, who was following on his heels. The other twin--Harry could tell it was George by the blindingly bright lavender, orange and yellow patterned robes he was wearing--moved forward to help Ginny with her trunk, while Fred assisted Harry. Fred had a glint in his eye that Harry didn't exactly trust.
"Harry, my man," he said, clapping Harry hard on the shoulder. His voice was quite loud. "How've things gone since your birthday? Hope you've found somewhere better to snog than Dad's shed."
The words seemed to echo through the shop, and, much to Harry's consternation, Ron turned around and looked at him curiously. "What's that? Who were you snogging in Dad's shed?"
Harry looked Ron straight in the eye and replied, "Crookshanks. Who do you think…" Realisation began to dawn over Ron's features, and Harry quickly added, "But we weren't snogging."
Ron didn't look quite convinced, and he looked over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned to follow his gaze and saw that Ginny had arrived. He felt a flush creep over his face. He had no idea whether or not she'd overheard, and her expression gave away nothing.
Hermione came back from the front of the shop, her Head Girl badge catching the torch light. "What's the hold-up? We have to clear out to make room for the next arrivals."
They filed after her through the joke shop, passing a blonde woman at the counter. They could hear her grumbling something about lost business, and Harry realised that she must have had to close the shop to accommodate the students' arrival. George heaved Ginny's trunk to the front of the shop next to the door, setting it next to the others', and went over to say something to the woman. It looked to Harry as though she'd gone a bit pink in the face at whatever George had said to her, but she looked a lot happier.
If the weather in Hogsmeade was any better than it had been in Ottery St. Catchpole, it was only marginally so. There was a carriage waiting for them at the door, and they scrambled to get in, managing to get quite wet in spite of themselves. Their breath came out in smoke-like clouds.
"What about our trunks?" asked Ginny, when they were all inside and had set off.
"I suppose someone will bring them up to school," replied Hermione, struggling to keep the lid on Crookshanks' basket. Harry was glad that Hedwig behaved so well in her cage. "We've always left our things on the train in the past, and they were always in our dormitories after the feast. It won't be that much longer," she added in an exasperated tone to her cat.
Harry wasn't sure he liked the idea of leaving their trunks in Fred and George's possession for however short a time. There hadn't been any other trunks in sight, so he could only hope that, however they were magicked up to school, it happened instantaneously. If anyone else had similar doubts, no one voiced them. Harry looked out the window at the mournful, wet village. He could see that they'd joined a procession of carriages winding their way through town. There were also quite a few miserable-looking witches and wizards lining the High Street. They were Aurors, he realised with a shiver, put in place to assure that everyone reached Hogwarts safely.
They arrived in the Entrance Hall soaked to the skin and shivering with cold. Harry tried to wipe his glasses clean on his sodden robes, but he only succeeded in smearing them further. A good many black-robed students were milling about, waiting to be admitted to the beginning-of-term feast. Harry wished he'd been among the earlier arrivals, as he would have had time to change out of his wet clothes. He considered going up to Gryffindor Tower anyway, but he couldn't be sure his trunk had arrived, and even if it had, he had no idea what to expect when he opened it. He wouldn't put it past the twins to Transfigure all his robes into pigeons or put an Itching Charm on his warm socks.
In any case, he was soon distracted by the appearance of Professor McGonagall in the Entrance Hall. Harry was surprised by how haggard she looked. He knew she wasn't all that young, but her face was drawn with exhaustion, and the lines on it were etched more deeply than ever.
"Any first years here?" she called above the buzz of the gathered students. Two frightened-looking boys raised their hands. Harry looked at them in amazement. Had he ever been that small? "This way please." The boys followed Professor McGonagall, dragging their feet slightly. They'd never know what it was like to get their first glimpse of Hogwarts from the lake, Harry thought, and the notion saddened him a bit.
More and more students were coming into the Entrance Hall, as the last of the carriages let off the arrivals from Hogsmeade, and those who had arrived earlier in the day filtered down from their common rooms. Harry said hello to Dean and then to Seamus, before Lavender Brown came up and pulled him into a corner.
"Back for another year, are we?" asked a drawling voice. Harry rolled his eyes. Couldn't Malfoy resist the temptation just once to come over and make nasty remarks? "Surprised you survived the summer, but the year's not over yet, is it?"
"Just ignore him," Hermione said needlessly. Harry had no problem heeding this advice, especially as this routine was getting very old after seven years.
"Yes, I see the Mudblood survived the summer, as well. Pity, that."
"Just ignore him," Hermione hissed at Ron, who looked ready to go for his wand.
Malfoy passed over Ron, and turned to Ginny now, looking her up and down. His gaze came to rest on her tattered hemline. "Too bad you had to be born last, isn't it? Your parents might have been able to afford better that way."
Ginny didn't deign to reply; she merely glared. But for some reason that Harry didn't stop to examine, this remark annoyed him where the others hadn't. He couldn't remember Ginny ever being a real target of Malfoy's barbs in the past, and he couldn't see why she should have to endure them now.
"Sod off, Malfoy. Your boyfriends are waiting for you over there." Harry indicated Crabbe and Goyle, who were standing not far off, with a nod of his head. He was surprised when Malfoy actually obeyed him, but then he saw Professor McGonagall pass by, as she searched for more first years. Harry found it ironic that he'd wanted to take the Hogwarts Express one last time if only to spend some time with Ginny. The train trip had been cancelled, but he hadn't managed to avoid one of the more unpleasant aspects of the trip, a run-in with Malfoy.
At last the doors to the Great Hall opened to admit them to the feast. The enchanted sky was roiling with black clouds, but at least they couldn't actually feel the effects of the elements in here. When everyone was seated at the long house tables, Professor McGonagall led the first years in to be Sorted, and as Harry looked at their pale faces and staring eyes, he was struck once more by how young they looked. And then he realised something else. This group of new students was the smallest he'd ever seen. Had some parents kept their children out of school this year? It had been difficult to tell when all the older students were gathered in the Great Hall, but now he could see that there were more empty places at the Gryffindor table than there ought to have been. None of the seventh years were missing, but Harry noticed that several Muggle-borns in other years were not present tonight.
Once the Sorting Ceremony had begun, Harry let his mind wander. He was hungry and wanted the Sorting Hat to hurry up. Ron, judging by the grumbling beside him, felt the same way. Harry glanced up at the staff table and was quite surprised to see two unexpected faces there. One he did not recognise at all, but the other… He nudged Ron and pointed.
Ron looked where Harry indicated. "Krum," he whispered, unbelievingly. "What's he doing here?"
"No idea. I doubt they've decided to put Quidditch on the curriculum."
"Nah… And who's the other bloke?" Ron asked. Harry assumed he meant the man Harry didn't recognise. "The one sitting where Snape… Hey, where's Snape?" Ron sounded quite gleeful now. He seemed to have forgotten his hunger entirely.
Harry suddenly felt quite a bit more optimistic about the upcoming year. Potions, at least looked like it would be a much more pleasant without Professor Snape looking for every opportunity to take house points from Gryffindor. On the other hand, what if something had happened to the Potions Master? Harry knew he'd been acting as a spy among the Death Eaters. "No idea where Snape is," he answered Ron. "Do you think Krum is going to teach us Potions?"
But Ron was no longer paying attention to Harry. He was too busy pointing out Viktor Krum's presence to Hermione. Harry looked over the head table once more, taking stock. Krum would be either Snape's replacement, or the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. All the other regular teachers were accounted for, from Professor McGonagall, who was overseeing the Sorting, to tiny Professor Flitwick, to Professor Grubbly-Plank, who had replaced Hagrid as Care of Magical Creatures teacher last year.
After the Sorting and the feast were both behind him, Harry felt quite full and content. Albus Dumbledore stood and the room fell silent, as all eyes turned to him. "Now that we've filled our bellies, I have a few notices before I send you off to your beds. First of all, the Forbidden Forest is named that for good reason. I remind all students to stay out of it. Secondly, after much consideration, we have decided not to cancel Quidditch this year." This was met with thunderous applause, and Ron let out a loud whoop.
When the noise died down once more, Professor Dumbledore went on. "In light of recent events, we have done a great deal of work in the past weeks strengthening and extending the magical wards over the school, so that they include the village of Hogsmeade, and for this reason Hogsmeade visits will also not be cancelled, as of this time." More cheers at this.
Dumbledore waited for them to stop. "Finally, I have two introductions to make. This year we welcome Viktor Krum, who will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts." Viktor Krum was famous in the wizarding world for his prowess on the Quidditch pitch, and the students showed their appreciation by breaking into wild applause. Harry saw Ron nudge Hermione with his elbow as he clapped. The applause faded, and Dumbledore continued. "This is Mundungus Fletcher," he said, indicating the man in Professor Snape's usual seat. "He will be taking over Professor Snape's duties as Potions instructor and Head of Slytherin House. Professor Snape is on sabbatical this year and is thus unable to fulfil his duties." The applause for Mundungus Fletcher was much quieter. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table, where the members of that house were looking at each other with confused looks on their faces. Draco Malfoy looked particularly nonplussed. Ron, on the other hand, was cheering quite loudly.
"And now, off you go," said Professor Dumbledore, dismissing them all to their dormitories.
Harry watched as Ginny and Hermione rose to join the other prefects in leading the Gryffindors up to their tower. Heading the group, however, was none other than Neville Longbottom. Harry still couldn't get used to the idea of Neville as prefect. Hermione had told him and Ron that Neville had been appointed prefect in hopes that a little responsibility would do his self-esteem some good, and Harry had reckoned that the staff expected Hermione to make up for any short-comings on Neville's part. Whatever the original thinking behind the decision had been, the change in Neville since fifth year, when he'd relied on Hermione to tell misbehaving students off, was astonishing. It was true that he still had a tendency to forget passwords, but he was much more authoritative ever since he'd caught Draco Malfoy, a fellow prefect, in flagrante delicto with some Hufflepuff girl last year. He'd summoned the courage to take a good hundred points from both Slytherin and Hufflepuff, in spite of Malfoy's threats to hex him, and since that time he'd been an even greater stickler for the rules than Hermione. In short, he'd become a nightmare.
"Right!" called Neville, as if he were commanding a battalion. "Everyone form a line. Single file now. Look sharp, everyone. Gryffindors march!"
As they headed out, Harry caught sight of Ginny rolling her eyes behind Neville's back, and he stifled a laugh. The filed up to their tower where Hermione gave the password ("Cœur de lion!"), and everyone scrambled through the portrait hole.
"All right," shouted Neville. "You heard the Headmaster. Everyone off to bed!"
The first years looked at him, wild-eyed, and scurried to obey him. But at that moment, a loud bang! was heard, and in the place where Neville had been standing there appeared a very large version of Trevor the toad. The older students roared with laughter, and Neville re-appeared a few minutes later, red-faced and glowering.
When they'd reached their dormitory, Ron asked Neville if he'd come to school by way of Zonko's. "As a matter of fact, I did," Neville replied.
"Did you change your robes before the feast?" asked Harry.
"Had to, I was soaked to the skin. Why?"
"No reason."
Harry and Ron both looked suspiciously at their trunks, which were now at the foot of their four-poster beds. Ron then met Harry's gaze, and his expression was one of resignation. Heart pounding, Harry opened his trunk carefully, but when nothing happened, he poked his cauldron with his wand. Still nothing. Acting quickly, Harry tapped every item in his trunk, muttering, "Finite incantatem" over and over. He could hear Ron doing the same thing next to him. When he was certain everything was safe, he pulled out his pyjamas, undressed quickly and went to bed.
But sleep didn't come right away. He was still awake long after he heard the snores of the other boys. Suddenly, he heard Ron whisper in the dark. "Harry? You awake?"
Harry had been sure Ron was asleep, and he wondered what could possibly be keeping his friend awake. "Yeah. What is it?"
"You like Ginny, don't you?"
Harry had definitely not been expecting this, but he supposed Ron had been thinking about what Fred had said at Zonko's. "Of course, I do," Harry hedged. "I like your whole family. Even Percy."
"You know what I mean. You like her, don't you?"
There wasn't any more avoiding the question, now. He'd have to admit the truth to himself at the same time as he admitted it to Ron. He'd had feelings for girls in the past, beginning with Cho Chang, but he'd always been able to keep them to himself, to push them aside, and eventually they'd gone away. He was finding that a lot more difficult to do this time. There was something inside him that demanded he act on them, something that his reason tried to hold off, arguing that he didn't need the added pressure, couldn't put her in danger through her association with him. He kept telling himself these things, but the feelings refused to go away. He took a deep breath. "Yeah, Ron, I guess I do."
Ron didn't reply right away, and Harry found his silence worrisome. Finally, he said, "Just don't let me catch you snogging her, and I think I'll be OK with it. And don't let me catch you reading that book, or I'll get some nasty mental pictures."
"Ron, I haven't snogged her at all." Harry didn't count that kiss in the living room at the Burrow. It had been almost chaste.
"Then keep it that way, as far as I'm concerned."
"What you don't know won't hurt you, you mean?"
"Yeah, exactly."
"I'm not sure that you have anything to worry about. I don't even know if she'd let me…" That much was true. He still didn't know why she'd slipped away from him like that. He'd seen a section on kissing in Sirius' book, and he didn't think he'd done anything too terribly wrong.
"Good then. At least she seems to have some sense. Night, Harry."
Harry didn't bother to answer. He was the slightest bit irritated with that last comment.
*
Harry sat in Gryffindor common room the following evening trying to concentrate. He couldn't believe the amount of homework he'd been assigned on the first day back. The day had got off to a poor start indeed in Transfiguration, where his attempts to Transfigure Ron into a newt had failed repeatedly. Hermione had had much more success than anyone, Transfiguring Parvati and switching her back to her normal state several times. Professor McGonagall hadn't been light on the assignments, either.
Care of Magical Creatures hadn't been much better. While the wind and rain of the previous day had cleared off, the temperature was hardly balmy. It hadn't occurred to anyone that early September could be so chilly, and so everyone had shivered through a long lecture on Centaurs. During Hagrid's tenure as teacher of this class, Harry could expect an easy time of it, but this was not the case when Professor Grubbly-Plank was lecturing. She'd assigned them a lengthy essay on the Centaur's abilities in the field of healing and hinted that they might even meet some Centaurs in the near future.
After lunch, the day had gone decidedly downhill. Harry and Ron had ascended to the North Tower for Double Divination. Harry had grown used to Professor Trelawney's constantly predicting his untimely demise, and so it had come as a surprise to him when she'd let most of the class pass without mentioning his name once. Then near the end of the period, she'd approached him. "Your luck has changed, my boy," she'd said in her misty voice, causing him to look up from the tarot cards he'd been trying to decipher. "The shadow of death no longer haunts you as closely. You have something… someone… protecting you." She'd sounded disappointed.
When she'd moved off to hover over Lavender and Parvati's table, Ron had asked in a low voice, "What do you suppose that was all about?"
"No idea. This whole class is nothing but rubbish."
But Harry hadn't been sure then, and he wasn't sure now. He laid his quill aside and rubbed his temples. Someone protecting him. It hit far too close to home. He could see the certain someone out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting at another table, her brow furrowed in concentration as she scribbled furiously on some parchment. From time to time, she consulted one of several large tomes on the table in front of her. Harry thought he recognised them as belonging to Hermione. He'd used one of them during his fourth year to practice Summoning charms. He'd never realised Ginny was studying Ancient Runes.
Harry forced himself to look away and write something, anything on the parchment in front of him. He was trying to write his essay for Divination, but for once he'd actually have to do some work. Rather than making up lots of bogus predictions, this assignment entailed comparing and contrasting various spreads of tarot cards. He kept referring to Unfogging the Future, but none of it made a great deal of sense to him. He was having trouble visualising the spreads in his mind. What he really needed was a deck of tarot cards to practice with, but he didn't have any. He crumpled up the parchment on which he'd just written a lot of nonsense and started over.
It wasn't long before he was distracted once more. This was much worse than trying to weed the garden. He had to get his homework finished. Ron and Hermione had long since given up on studying and had moved into a corner to play chess, but then Hermione didn't have Divination homework to worry about. He forced himself to look down at the empty parchment, unsuccessfully willing inspiration to come, but it wasn't long before a loud giggle caused him to look towards Ginny's table yet again.
It wasn't she who'd laughed, however. Sitting at the opposite end of the table, Harry now noticed, were Parvati, Lavender and Seamus. Ginny glared in their direction for a moment before going back to her work. Parvati had a deck of tarot cards out and seemed to be doing a reading. Perhaps she'd let him borrow her deck…
Harry went over to their table and waited for Parvati to finish what she was doing. "Um, hi, Parvati," he began. "Listen, I'm having trouble understanding what we're supposed to be doing in that essay for Trelawney. Do you think I could use your cards to work it out?"
Lavender looked horrified, and Harry didn't understand why until Parvati snapped, "Of course you can't! This is my personal deck. I can't let you touch them. Weren't you listening in class when Professor Trelawney said that?"
Harry had missed that admonition entirely. "Apparently not. Can you give me a hand with this anyway? I don't understand the different spreads. Can you just show them to me?"
Parvati and Lavender exchanged a look. "I suppose I could do a reading for you. Would that help you?"
Harry decided it was better than nothing and nodded. Seamus sniggered and got up from the table. "Talk to you later, Lavender," he said, before gathering his books and parchment and heading for the dormitory.
Harry watched as Parvati began laying the cards out in a pattern. "This one is a basic spread. It's called the Celtic Cross, and it's made up of ten cards. The first six cards represent what is going on in your life at this moment. The first one represents the present fundamental problem, the heart of the matter…" Harry wanted to tune her out. This was all a load of... No! He needed to hear this. "The Tower. Hmmm, that can be good or bad. It means sudden change and upheaval, a shock that might be a blessing in disguise. It can also mean you'll uncover a hidden truth. Second card is the Magician reversed," Parvati went on. "Ooh, that's not very good, is it? You'll have to watch out for deception and trickery. Be careful who you trust."
Harry thought he heard a derisive noise coming from Ginny's end of the table. He could see her if he turned his head just slightly. He could watch the way her hair reflected the firelight…
Harry jumped when Parvati snapped her fingers under his nose. "Harry! You're not paying attention!"
"Sorry, what was card three again?"
Parvati gave him a quelling look. "I'm on card five."
Suddenly Lavender gave a small cry, bringing Harry out the reverie into which he had slipped again. He looked over to see her staring at the cards on the table. Parvati had just turned up the Ten of Pentacles. Harry had no idea why this should make Lavender cry out like that or cause Parvati to look at him speculatively. "The fifth card is something you have your heart set on." She tapped the card. "This card represents a desire for permanence. It stands for wealth, success, marriage and carrying on traditions." She turned the next card, and Lavender fairly shrieked this time. It was the Lovers card. Harry gulped, knowing he was definitely not going to like this. "The sixth card is the future, something gaining influence or coming into focus."
Harry swallowed. "Does… does that mean what I think it does?" he asked trying to sound nonchalant.
Parvati rolled her eyes. "Of course it does."
"Good thing this is all a load of…"
Lavender cut him off. "Of course it isn't rubbish. Parvati did a reading for me fifth year that predicted I'd get nine OWLs. And I did."
"Moving on," Parvati grated, and she went on turning up cards. The ninth card produced another high-pitched squeal from Lavender. "Two of Cups in this position means you should look to someone else to help you achieve what you want. Someone you weren't expecting has a role to play. Someone you love."
Damn, there it was again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny glaring in their direction. He supposed all the noise from their end of the table was making it difficult for her to study. Parvati turned the last card, but Harry didn't pay it much heed. Sometimes it was best not to know, he thought. Not that this meant anything. Just because Parvati and Lavender took it seriously…
"Tarot cards, Harry?" Somehow Ginny had managed to get out of her seat and come over to their end of the table without his noticing. She was giggling. "Isn't that all just a load of nonsense?"
Parvati was looking at Ginny with dislike. "Come on, Lavender, let's go find someone who appreciates our talent." She and Lavender gathered their things, including the tarot deck. Harry was glad he didn't have to stare at the Lovers card any longer.
As Parvati and Lavender stalked off, Harry gave Ginny a half smile. "Taking Divination," he mumbled. "I asked them for help with my homework."
"I know. At least Ron had the sense to warn me off it."
Harry was ready to ask her about her other classes, but he didn't have the chance. Before he could get anything out that would continue the conversation, Neville stood up and announced to the entire common room, "All right everyone! Lights out in ten minutes! Everyone up to their dormitories!"
There was a general groan from the older students, as the younger students scrambled to obey. Neville had decided to institute a curfew the previous year, and unfortunately for the night owls among the students, Professor McGonagall had backed him up. Ginny made to gather her things, but Harry grabbed her hand to stop her. "Wait," he said. "Don't go yet."
Ginny stared down at their joined hands for a moment before replying. "What about Neville?"
"Don't worry about him."
He stood up and, amid the general chaos of the rest of the Gryffindors going to bed, led her into a more secluded corner. He didn't think anyone had noticed.
When the common room had cleared, Ginny asked, "What did you want, Harry?"
He hesitated. What did he want? He could answer that question readily enough. He'd been thinking about it ever since the day they'd gone to London, but her reaction made him wonder if she'd want him to try to kiss her again. He also remembered thinking that he didn't know her as well as he ought. He opted for asking her something safe. "Well, I never did get a chance to ask you how your Muggle Studies essay came out."
Was that disappointment he saw flicker over her face? "Oh. I think I ought to get a very good mark on it. I never did thank you for taking me on the Underground." He hadn't realised he was still holding her hand in his until he felt her squeeze. It sent a thrill through him. He was sure she was sending him some kind of signal, but still he hesitated. He was going to be sure he did things right this time. He mentally reviewed the tips he'd read in Sirius' book:
Kissing is much like a handshake. The way you go about it leaves a lasting impression and can be used as a benchmark for whatever else you may have to offer. Check.
Don't stampede straight for the lips like a bull at the gate. Tease her by brushing your lips over some other readily available body part first. Check.
Open your mouth but not too much. Don't make her afraid you'll swallow her whole. Check.
Good dental hygiene is a must. Not a problem when one of your best friends had dentists for parents. Check.
Not too hard, not too soft. A firm, gentle approach makes for a happy medium. Check.
Don't insert your tongue unless it's got a purpose. Tongue? he remembered thinking. OK… check.
Take it easy on the saliva. Urgh… Check.
Listen for signals from your partner. If she's breathing heavily or clinging to you for support, you're likely doing something right. Check.
Everyone has personal preferences, so ask your partner what she likes. Maybe later, if all else failed.
Don't think about it too hard. How am I supposed to not think about it after all this advice?
He leaned closer and thought she did the same. They were only inches apart, when…
"Potter! Get up to bed! Now! Don't make me take points away from Gryffindor! I don't like it, but you know I will if I have to!"
It was Neville. Harry knew he'd make good on his threat, too. He'd done it last year to Ron and Hermione, when the curfew had been newly instated. "I'll be up in a minute," he called.
"You'll be up now, or I'll know the reason why!"
Harry turned back to Ginny, who was shaking with suppressed laughter. At least she saw some humour in the situation. At the moment Harry felt murderous. "Sorry, Gin. I've got to go."
"POTTER!" Neville bellowed.
"Good night, Harry," Ginny called softly after him.
A/N: Credit for the kissing tips goes to Josey Vogels who writes an advice column in my local newspaper. I've paraphrased them, but the original idea is hers. There's also some Monty Python mixed in there…A huge thank you to Paula for helping me work out the tarot cards! I know absolutely nothing about them.
Chapter 7
Summary: Ginny gives Harry a special birthday present, but the consequences are unexpected.
Harry and Ron put off packing their trunks until the last minute on September 1st. In the late afternoon, they went up to Ron's room, and socks, underwear and spare robes flew about, as they hurried to cram everything in. When they'd all but finished, they each changed into the set of school robes they'd laid aside and closed their trunks. They levitated them down to the kitchen, where the girls were waiting for them. Mrs Weasley was fussing with the hem of Ginny's robe, which was coming undone in the back.
"I can't charm it back into place. The fabric is too far gone. It won't hold out."
Ginny was looking over her shoulder trying to see the damage. "Well, there's no time to sew it back in place now," she sighed. "I'll see to it when I get to school." There was no time for her to change into another set of robes, either. "Just put a pin in it for now."
Mrs Weasley looked up to see that the boys were ready. "At last!" she exclaimed. "I wouldn't have fancied driving to London in this weather." The rain, which was coming down in buckets, was driven almost horizontal by vicious, icy winds. At times there came a clatter against the windows as if tiny pellets of ice were striking the panes instead of raindrops. "I hope the weather is nicer in the north."
She paused and took a deep breath before hugging each one in turn. When she released Harry, her eyes looked overly bright. "Have a good term, all of you," she said, looking from face to face. "Study hard, and stay out of trouble." She gave this last admonition particular emphasis. She took another great breath before continuing. "It's hard to believe you're almost finished school. It seems like only yesterday you were asking me how to get onto the platform, Harry." Her voice was beginning to quaver.
Ron looked at his watch. "It's time, Mum," he said, before Mrs Weasley could say anything further.
She removed a small vial from her apron pocket. "Right, then. Off you go."
Each of them in turn took a pinch of the special Floo powder. It was bluish, and when it was thrown into the flames, they turned purple rather than emerald green. Hermione went through first, as she had to contend with Crookshanks, who was hissing and spitting at being confined in a covered basket. There was no need to shout out the destination, since only one was possible, so when Harry's turn came, he merely cast his pinch of powder into the grate and stepped in with his trunk and Hedwig's cage.
He was soon whirling dizzily, but he saw no other fireplaces whizzing by. When he came stumbling to a halt, he ran straight into a grinning Fred. Or was it George? Harry couldn't tell, but he knew he'd arrived at Zonko's.
He quickly stepped aside to make room for Ginny, who was following on his heels. The other twin--Harry could tell it was George by the blindingly bright lavender, orange and yellow patterned robes he was wearing--moved forward to help Ginny with her trunk, while Fred assisted Harry. Fred had a glint in his eye that Harry didn't exactly trust.
"Harry, my man," he said, clapping Harry hard on the shoulder. His voice was quite loud. "How've things gone since your birthday? Hope you've found somewhere better to snog than Dad's shed."
The words seemed to echo through the shop, and, much to Harry's consternation, Ron turned around and looked at him curiously. "What's that? Who were you snogging in Dad's shed?"
Harry looked Ron straight in the eye and replied, "Crookshanks. Who do you think…" Realisation began to dawn over Ron's features, and Harry quickly added, "But we weren't snogging."
Ron didn't look quite convinced, and he looked over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned to follow his gaze and saw that Ginny had arrived. He felt a flush creep over his face. He had no idea whether or not she'd overheard, and her expression gave away nothing.
Hermione came back from the front of the shop, her Head Girl badge catching the torch light. "What's the hold-up? We have to clear out to make room for the next arrivals."
They filed after her through the joke shop, passing a blonde woman at the counter. They could hear her grumbling something about lost business, and Harry realised that she must have had to close the shop to accommodate the students' arrival. George heaved Ginny's trunk to the front of the shop next to the door, setting it next to the others', and went over to say something to the woman. It looked to Harry as though she'd gone a bit pink in the face at whatever George had said to her, but she looked a lot happier.
If the weather in Hogsmeade was any better than it had been in Ottery St. Catchpole, it was only marginally so. There was a carriage waiting for them at the door, and they scrambled to get in, managing to get quite wet in spite of themselves. Their breath came out in smoke-like clouds.
"What about our trunks?" asked Ginny, when they were all inside and had set off.
"I suppose someone will bring them up to school," replied Hermione, struggling to keep the lid on Crookshanks' basket. Harry was glad that Hedwig behaved so well in her cage. "We've always left our things on the train in the past, and they were always in our dormitories after the feast. It won't be that much longer," she added in an exasperated tone to her cat.
Harry wasn't sure he liked the idea of leaving their trunks in Fred and George's possession for however short a time. There hadn't been any other trunks in sight, so he could only hope that, however they were magicked up to school, it happened instantaneously. If anyone else had similar doubts, no one voiced them. Harry looked out the window at the mournful, wet village. He could see that they'd joined a procession of carriages winding their way through town. There were also quite a few miserable-looking witches and wizards lining the High Street. They were Aurors, he realised with a shiver, put in place to assure that everyone reached Hogwarts safely.
They arrived in the Entrance Hall soaked to the skin and shivering with cold. Harry tried to wipe his glasses clean on his sodden robes, but he only succeeded in smearing them further. A good many black-robed students were milling about, waiting to be admitted to the beginning-of-term feast. Harry wished he'd been among the earlier arrivals, as he would have had time to change out of his wet clothes. He considered going up to Gryffindor Tower anyway, but he couldn't be sure his trunk had arrived, and even if it had, he had no idea what to expect when he opened it. He wouldn't put it past the twins to Transfigure all his robes into pigeons or put an Itching Charm on his warm socks.
In any case, he was soon distracted by the appearance of Professor McGonagall in the Entrance Hall. Harry was surprised by how haggard she looked. He knew she wasn't all that young, but her face was drawn with exhaustion, and the lines on it were etched more deeply than ever.
"Any first years here?" she called above the buzz of the gathered students. Two frightened-looking boys raised their hands. Harry looked at them in amazement. Had he ever been that small? "This way please." The boys followed Professor McGonagall, dragging their feet slightly. They'd never know what it was like to get their first glimpse of Hogwarts from the lake, Harry thought, and the notion saddened him a bit.
More and more students were coming into the Entrance Hall, as the last of the carriages let off the arrivals from Hogsmeade, and those who had arrived earlier in the day filtered down from their common rooms. Harry said hello to Dean and then to Seamus, before Lavender Brown came up and pulled him into a corner.
"Back for another year, are we?" asked a drawling voice. Harry rolled his eyes. Couldn't Malfoy resist the temptation just once to come over and make nasty remarks? "Surprised you survived the summer, but the year's not over yet, is it?"
"Just ignore him," Hermione said needlessly. Harry had no problem heeding this advice, especially as this routine was getting very old after seven years.
"Yes, I see the Mudblood survived the summer, as well. Pity, that."
"Just ignore him," Hermione hissed at Ron, who looked ready to go for his wand.
Malfoy passed over Ron, and turned to Ginny now, looking her up and down. His gaze came to rest on her tattered hemline. "Too bad you had to be born last, isn't it? Your parents might have been able to afford better that way."
Ginny didn't deign to reply; she merely glared. But for some reason that Harry didn't stop to examine, this remark annoyed him where the others hadn't. He couldn't remember Ginny ever being a real target of Malfoy's barbs in the past, and he couldn't see why she should have to endure them now.
"Sod off, Malfoy. Your boyfriends are waiting for you over there." Harry indicated Crabbe and Goyle, who were standing not far off, with a nod of his head. He was surprised when Malfoy actually obeyed him, but then he saw Professor McGonagall pass by, as she searched for more first years. Harry found it ironic that he'd wanted to take the Hogwarts Express one last time if only to spend some time with Ginny. The train trip had been cancelled, but he hadn't managed to avoid one of the more unpleasant aspects of the trip, a run-in with Malfoy.
At last the doors to the Great Hall opened to admit them to the feast. The enchanted sky was roiling with black clouds, but at least they couldn't actually feel the effects of the elements in here. When everyone was seated at the long house tables, Professor McGonagall led the first years in to be Sorted, and as Harry looked at their pale faces and staring eyes, he was struck once more by how young they looked. And then he realised something else. This group of new students was the smallest he'd ever seen. Had some parents kept their children out of school this year? It had been difficult to tell when all the older students were gathered in the Great Hall, but now he could see that there were more empty places at the Gryffindor table than there ought to have been. None of the seventh years were missing, but Harry noticed that several Muggle-borns in other years were not present tonight.
Once the Sorting Ceremony had begun, Harry let his mind wander. He was hungry and wanted the Sorting Hat to hurry up. Ron, judging by the grumbling beside him, felt the same way. Harry glanced up at the staff table and was quite surprised to see two unexpected faces there. One he did not recognise at all, but the other… He nudged Ron and pointed.
Ron looked where Harry indicated. "Krum," he whispered, unbelievingly. "What's he doing here?"
"No idea. I doubt they've decided to put Quidditch on the curriculum."
"Nah… And who's the other bloke?" Ron asked. Harry assumed he meant the man Harry didn't recognise. "The one sitting where Snape… Hey, where's Snape?" Ron sounded quite gleeful now. He seemed to have forgotten his hunger entirely.
Harry suddenly felt quite a bit more optimistic about the upcoming year. Potions, at least looked like it would be a much more pleasant without Professor Snape looking for every opportunity to take house points from Gryffindor. On the other hand, what if something had happened to the Potions Master? Harry knew he'd been acting as a spy among the Death Eaters. "No idea where Snape is," he answered Ron. "Do you think Krum is going to teach us Potions?"
But Ron was no longer paying attention to Harry. He was too busy pointing out Viktor Krum's presence to Hermione. Harry looked over the head table once more, taking stock. Krum would be either Snape's replacement, or the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. All the other regular teachers were accounted for, from Professor McGonagall, who was overseeing the Sorting, to tiny Professor Flitwick, to Professor Grubbly-Plank, who had replaced Hagrid as Care of Magical Creatures teacher last year.
After the Sorting and the feast were both behind him, Harry felt quite full and content. Albus Dumbledore stood and the room fell silent, as all eyes turned to him. "Now that we've filled our bellies, I have a few notices before I send you off to your beds. First of all, the Forbidden Forest is named that for good reason. I remind all students to stay out of it. Secondly, after much consideration, we have decided not to cancel Quidditch this year." This was met with thunderous applause, and Ron let out a loud whoop.
When the noise died down once more, Professor Dumbledore went on. "In light of recent events, we have done a great deal of work in the past weeks strengthening and extending the magical wards over the school, so that they include the village of Hogsmeade, and for this reason Hogsmeade visits will also not be cancelled, as of this time." More cheers at this.
Dumbledore waited for them to stop. "Finally, I have two introductions to make. This year we welcome Viktor Krum, who will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts." Viktor Krum was famous in the wizarding world for his prowess on the Quidditch pitch, and the students showed their appreciation by breaking into wild applause. Harry saw Ron nudge Hermione with his elbow as he clapped. The applause faded, and Dumbledore continued. "This is Mundungus Fletcher," he said, indicating the man in Professor Snape's usual seat. "He will be taking over Professor Snape's duties as Potions instructor and Head of Slytherin House. Professor Snape is on sabbatical this year and is thus unable to fulfil his duties." The applause for Mundungus Fletcher was much quieter. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table, where the members of that house were looking at each other with confused looks on their faces. Draco Malfoy looked particularly nonplussed. Ron, on the other hand, was cheering quite loudly.
"And now, off you go," said Professor Dumbledore, dismissing them all to their dormitories.
Harry watched as Ginny and Hermione rose to join the other prefects in leading the Gryffindors up to their tower. Heading the group, however, was none other than Neville Longbottom. Harry still couldn't get used to the idea of Neville as prefect. Hermione had told him and Ron that Neville had been appointed prefect in hopes that a little responsibility would do his self-esteem some good, and Harry had reckoned that the staff expected Hermione to make up for any short-comings on Neville's part. Whatever the original thinking behind the decision had been, the change in Neville since fifth year, when he'd relied on Hermione to tell misbehaving students off, was astonishing. It was true that he still had a tendency to forget passwords, but he was much more authoritative ever since he'd caught Draco Malfoy, a fellow prefect, in flagrante delicto with some Hufflepuff girl last year. He'd summoned the courage to take a good hundred points from both Slytherin and Hufflepuff, in spite of Malfoy's threats to hex him, and since that time he'd been an even greater stickler for the rules than Hermione. In short, he'd become a nightmare.
"Right!" called Neville, as if he were commanding a battalion. "Everyone form a line. Single file now. Look sharp, everyone. Gryffindors march!"
As they headed out, Harry caught sight of Ginny rolling her eyes behind Neville's back, and he stifled a laugh. The filed up to their tower where Hermione gave the password ("Cœur de lion!"), and everyone scrambled through the portrait hole.
"All right," shouted Neville. "You heard the Headmaster. Everyone off to bed!"
The first years looked at him, wild-eyed, and scurried to obey him. But at that moment, a loud bang! was heard, and in the place where Neville had been standing there appeared a very large version of Trevor the toad. The older students roared with laughter, and Neville re-appeared a few minutes later, red-faced and glowering.
When they'd reached their dormitory, Ron asked Neville if he'd come to school by way of Zonko's. "As a matter of fact, I did," Neville replied.
"Did you change your robes before the feast?" asked Harry.
"Had to, I was soaked to the skin. Why?"
"No reason."
Harry and Ron both looked suspiciously at their trunks, which were now at the foot of their four-poster beds. Ron then met Harry's gaze, and his expression was one of resignation. Heart pounding, Harry opened his trunk carefully, but when nothing happened, he poked his cauldron with his wand. Still nothing. Acting quickly, Harry tapped every item in his trunk, muttering, "Finite incantatem" over and over. He could hear Ron doing the same thing next to him. When he was certain everything was safe, he pulled out his pyjamas, undressed quickly and went to bed.
But sleep didn't come right away. He was still awake long after he heard the snores of the other boys. Suddenly, he heard Ron whisper in the dark. "Harry? You awake?"
Harry had been sure Ron was asleep, and he wondered what could possibly be keeping his friend awake. "Yeah. What is it?"
"You like Ginny, don't you?"
Harry had definitely not been expecting this, but he supposed Ron had been thinking about what Fred had said at Zonko's. "Of course, I do," Harry hedged. "I like your whole family. Even Percy."
"You know what I mean. You like her, don't you?"
There wasn't any more avoiding the question, now. He'd have to admit the truth to himself at the same time as he admitted it to Ron. He'd had feelings for girls in the past, beginning with Cho Chang, but he'd always been able to keep them to himself, to push them aside, and eventually they'd gone away. He was finding that a lot more difficult to do this time. There was something inside him that demanded he act on them, something that his reason tried to hold off, arguing that he didn't need the added pressure, couldn't put her in danger through her association with him. He kept telling himself these things, but the feelings refused to go away. He took a deep breath. "Yeah, Ron, I guess I do."
Ron didn't reply right away, and Harry found his silence worrisome. Finally, he said, "Just don't let me catch you snogging her, and I think I'll be OK with it. And don't let me catch you reading that book, or I'll get some nasty mental pictures."
"Ron, I haven't snogged her at all." Harry didn't count that kiss in the living room at the Burrow. It had been almost chaste.
"Then keep it that way, as far as I'm concerned."
"What you don't know won't hurt you, you mean?"
"Yeah, exactly."
"I'm not sure that you have anything to worry about. I don't even know if she'd let me…" That much was true. He still didn't know why she'd slipped away from him like that. He'd seen a section on kissing in Sirius' book, and he didn't think he'd done anything too terribly wrong.
"Good then. At least she seems to have some sense. Night, Harry."
Harry didn't bother to answer. He was the slightest bit irritated with that last comment.
*
Harry sat in Gryffindor common room the following evening trying to concentrate. He couldn't believe the amount of homework he'd been assigned on the first day back. The day had got off to a poor start indeed in Transfiguration, where his attempts to Transfigure Ron into a newt had failed repeatedly. Hermione had had much more success than anyone, Transfiguring Parvati and switching her back to her normal state several times. Professor McGonagall hadn't been light on the assignments, either.
Care of Magical Creatures hadn't been much better. While the wind and rain of the previous day had cleared off, the temperature was hardly balmy. It hadn't occurred to anyone that early September could be so chilly, and so everyone had shivered through a long lecture on Centaurs. During Hagrid's tenure as teacher of this class, Harry could expect an easy time of it, but this was not the case when Professor Grubbly-Plank was lecturing. She'd assigned them a lengthy essay on the Centaur's abilities in the field of healing and hinted that they might even meet some Centaurs in the near future.
After lunch, the day had gone decidedly downhill. Harry and Ron had ascended to the North Tower for Double Divination. Harry had grown used to Professor Trelawney's constantly predicting his untimely demise, and so it had come as a surprise to him when she'd let most of the class pass without mentioning his name once. Then near the end of the period, she'd approached him. "Your luck has changed, my boy," she'd said in her misty voice, causing him to look up from the tarot cards he'd been trying to decipher. "The shadow of death no longer haunts you as closely. You have something… someone… protecting you." She'd sounded disappointed.
When she'd moved off to hover over Lavender and Parvati's table, Ron had asked in a low voice, "What do you suppose that was all about?"
"No idea. This whole class is nothing but rubbish."
But Harry hadn't been sure then, and he wasn't sure now. He laid his quill aside and rubbed his temples. Someone protecting him. It hit far too close to home. He could see the certain someone out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting at another table, her brow furrowed in concentration as she scribbled furiously on some parchment. From time to time, she consulted one of several large tomes on the table in front of her. Harry thought he recognised them as belonging to Hermione. He'd used one of them during his fourth year to practice Summoning charms. He'd never realised Ginny was studying Ancient Runes.
Harry forced himself to look away and write something, anything on the parchment in front of him. He was trying to write his essay for Divination, but for once he'd actually have to do some work. Rather than making up lots of bogus predictions, this assignment entailed comparing and contrasting various spreads of tarot cards. He kept referring to Unfogging the Future, but none of it made a great deal of sense to him. He was having trouble visualising the spreads in his mind. What he really needed was a deck of tarot cards to practice with, but he didn't have any. He crumpled up the parchment on which he'd just written a lot of nonsense and started over.
It wasn't long before he was distracted once more. This was much worse than trying to weed the garden. He had to get his homework finished. Ron and Hermione had long since given up on studying and had moved into a corner to play chess, but then Hermione didn't have Divination homework to worry about. He forced himself to look down at the empty parchment, unsuccessfully willing inspiration to come, but it wasn't long before a loud giggle caused him to look towards Ginny's table yet again.
It wasn't she who'd laughed, however. Sitting at the opposite end of the table, Harry now noticed, were Parvati, Lavender and Seamus. Ginny glared in their direction for a moment before going back to her work. Parvati had a deck of tarot cards out and seemed to be doing a reading. Perhaps she'd let him borrow her deck…
Harry went over to their table and waited for Parvati to finish what she was doing. "Um, hi, Parvati," he began. "Listen, I'm having trouble understanding what we're supposed to be doing in that essay for Trelawney. Do you think I could use your cards to work it out?"
Lavender looked horrified, and Harry didn't understand why until Parvati snapped, "Of course you can't! This is my personal deck. I can't let you touch them. Weren't you listening in class when Professor Trelawney said that?"
Harry had missed that admonition entirely. "Apparently not. Can you give me a hand with this anyway? I don't understand the different spreads. Can you just show them to me?"
Parvati and Lavender exchanged a look. "I suppose I could do a reading for you. Would that help you?"
Harry decided it was better than nothing and nodded. Seamus sniggered and got up from the table. "Talk to you later, Lavender," he said, before gathering his books and parchment and heading for the dormitory.
Harry watched as Parvati began laying the cards out in a pattern. "This one is a basic spread. It's called the Celtic Cross, and it's made up of ten cards. The first six cards represent what is going on in your life at this moment. The first one represents the present fundamental problem, the heart of the matter…" Harry wanted to tune her out. This was all a load of... No! He needed to hear this. "The Tower. Hmmm, that can be good or bad. It means sudden change and upheaval, a shock that might be a blessing in disguise. It can also mean you'll uncover a hidden truth. Second card is the Magician reversed," Parvati went on. "Ooh, that's not very good, is it? You'll have to watch out for deception and trickery. Be careful who you trust."
Harry thought he heard a derisive noise coming from Ginny's end of the table. He could see her if he turned his head just slightly. He could watch the way her hair reflected the firelight…
Harry jumped when Parvati snapped her fingers under his nose. "Harry! You're not paying attention!"
"Sorry, what was card three again?"
Parvati gave him a quelling look. "I'm on card five."
Suddenly Lavender gave a small cry, bringing Harry out the reverie into which he had slipped again. He looked over to see her staring at the cards on the table. Parvati had just turned up the Ten of Pentacles. Harry had no idea why this should make Lavender cry out like that or cause Parvati to look at him speculatively. "The fifth card is something you have your heart set on." She tapped the card. "This card represents a desire for permanence. It stands for wealth, success, marriage and carrying on traditions." She turned the next card, and Lavender fairly shrieked this time. It was the Lovers card. Harry gulped, knowing he was definitely not going to like this. "The sixth card is the future, something gaining influence or coming into focus."
Harry swallowed. "Does… does that mean what I think it does?" he asked trying to sound nonchalant.
Parvati rolled her eyes. "Of course it does."
"Good thing this is all a load of…"
Lavender cut him off. "Of course it isn't rubbish. Parvati did a reading for me fifth year that predicted I'd get nine OWLs. And I did."
"Moving on," Parvati grated, and she went on turning up cards. The ninth card produced another high-pitched squeal from Lavender. "Two of Cups in this position means you should look to someone else to help you achieve what you want. Someone you weren't expecting has a role to play. Someone you love."
Damn, there it was again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny glaring in their direction. He supposed all the noise from their end of the table was making it difficult for her to study. Parvati turned the last card, but Harry didn't pay it much heed. Sometimes it was best not to know, he thought. Not that this meant anything. Just because Parvati and Lavender took it seriously…
"Tarot cards, Harry?" Somehow Ginny had managed to get out of her seat and come over to their end of the table without his noticing. She was giggling. "Isn't that all just a load of nonsense?"
Parvati was looking at Ginny with dislike. "Come on, Lavender, let's go find someone who appreciates our talent." She and Lavender gathered their things, including the tarot deck. Harry was glad he didn't have to stare at the Lovers card any longer.
As Parvati and Lavender stalked off, Harry gave Ginny a half smile. "Taking Divination," he mumbled. "I asked them for help with my homework."
"I know. At least Ron had the sense to warn me off it."
Harry was ready to ask her about her other classes, but he didn't have the chance. Before he could get anything out that would continue the conversation, Neville stood up and announced to the entire common room, "All right everyone! Lights out in ten minutes! Everyone up to their dormitories!"
There was a general groan from the older students, as the younger students scrambled to obey. Neville had decided to institute a curfew the previous year, and unfortunately for the night owls among the students, Professor McGonagall had backed him up. Ginny made to gather her things, but Harry grabbed her hand to stop her. "Wait," he said. "Don't go yet."
Ginny stared down at their joined hands for a moment before replying. "What about Neville?"
"Don't worry about him."
He stood up and, amid the general chaos of the rest of the Gryffindors going to bed, led her into a more secluded corner. He didn't think anyone had noticed.
When the common room had cleared, Ginny asked, "What did you want, Harry?"
He hesitated. What did he want? He could answer that question readily enough. He'd been thinking about it ever since the day they'd gone to London, but her reaction made him wonder if she'd want him to try to kiss her again. He also remembered thinking that he didn't know her as well as he ought. He opted for asking her something safe. "Well, I never did get a chance to ask you how your Muggle Studies essay came out."
Was that disappointment he saw flicker over her face? "Oh. I think I ought to get a very good mark on it. I never did thank you for taking me on the Underground." He hadn't realised he was still holding her hand in his until he felt her squeeze. It sent a thrill through him. He was sure she was sending him some kind of signal, but still he hesitated. He was going to be sure he did things right this time. He mentally reviewed the tips he'd read in Sirius' book:
Kissing is much like a handshake. The way you go about it leaves a lasting impression and can be used as a benchmark for whatever else you may have to offer. Check.
Don't stampede straight for the lips like a bull at the gate. Tease her by brushing your lips over some other readily available body part first. Check.
Open your mouth but not too much. Don't make her afraid you'll swallow her whole. Check.
Good dental hygiene is a must. Not a problem when one of your best friends had dentists for parents. Check.
Not too hard, not too soft. A firm, gentle approach makes for a happy medium. Check.
Don't insert your tongue unless it's got a purpose. Tongue? he remembered thinking. OK… check.
Take it easy on the saliva. Urgh… Check.
Listen for signals from your partner. If she's breathing heavily or clinging to you for support, you're likely doing something right. Check.
Everyone has personal preferences, so ask your partner what she likes. Maybe later, if all else failed.
Don't think about it too hard. How am I supposed to not think about it after all this advice?
He leaned closer and thought she did the same. They were only inches apart, when…
"Potter! Get up to bed! Now! Don't make me take points away from Gryffindor! I don't like it, but you know I will if I have to!"
It was Neville. Harry knew he'd make good on his threat, too. He'd done it last year to Ron and Hermione, when the curfew had been newly instated. "I'll be up in a minute," he called.
"You'll be up now, or I'll know the reason why!"
Harry turned back to Ginny, who was shaking with suppressed laughter. At least she saw some humour in the situation. At the moment Harry felt murderous. "Sorry, Gin. I've got to go."
"POTTER!" Neville bellowed.
"Good night, Harry," Ginny called softly after him.
A/N: Credit for the kissing tips goes to Josey Vogels who writes an advice column in my local newspaper. I've paraphrased them, but the original idea is hers. There's also some Monty Python mixed in there…A huge thank you to Paula for helping me work out the tarot cards! I know absolutely nothing about them.
Chapter 7