Forever Entwined : Chapter 6
X x x X x X x
Tuesday morning, the Gryffindors managed to wake up on time and get to Potions without incident. Professor Slughorn was still content to let them brew in peace with the partners of their choice. Harry was sure to keep a low profile in the class, unable to match up to the impressive brewing he'd executed in sixth year without Snape's notes. It wasn’t like he wanted the notoriety that would come with it anyway. He’d already given Slughorn enough reason to keep him on that bloody wall of his forever.
One of the benefits of the truce between the two houses was that brewing potions was a lot easier when you were not being sabotaged by items flung into your cauldrons or distracted with insults.
After Potions, both groups joined Hagrid outside his hut for Care of Magical Creatures. Harry was already imagining what kind of beast he'd brought for them, having a lot experience with the man’s love for dangerous animals.
When he led them to the pen behind the hut, they were all taken aback to see surprised to see something so innocuous and common as a cluster of kneazles.
There really was not much to be done with a kneazle. They seemed content with lying about in the sun, so Harry let his mind wander, focussing on his upcoming meeting with Malfoy and the fact he still had no idea where to begin.
He thought it might be an ideal time to speak to Hermione and ask for her opinion now that it was only her and Ron. Everyone else was busy gossiping, but when he brought up the topic, Hermione got swept away with a problem of her own.
She was trying to come up with a strategy for getting herself through her partnership with Goyle between pets to her kneazle, and was too busy mumbling and narrowing her eyes at the Slytherin to offer much assistance with his brainstorming. She'd been unable to speak to Goyle the night before. The boy had grunted and gone up to bed as soon as he got into the common room, and neither Harry nor Ron was volunteering to ask for her.
At least his partner wouldn't need to have his hand held every step of the way. From what Harry could recall, Draco always seemed to be a good student, which left Harry with nothing to do but find a book in the library so he could do something in class on Wednesday, but he kept hearing Ron’s teeth torturer comment in his head. It occurred to him Malfoy was a pureblood like Ron, and wouldn’t have any idea of Muggle occupations. Harry just might have to lead on this assignment. Now he was certain he was terribly unprepared.
"Kneazles. Can you believe it, Harry? After hippogriffs and thestrals, he brings kneazles?" Ron managed to steer the conversation from Hermione's worries.
"It's kind of strange," Harry agreed.
"I, for one, am glad. There are creatures we should simply see in textbooks. Some are far too dangerous for us to have personal experience with. The headmistress probably had a talk with him about it."
"I think you should pick a professor for your project. I mean, you’re always lecturing someone." Ron’s statement lacked malice, but unfortunately was quite thoughtless. He seemed to realise it when her expression changed. "I mean, because you know so much," he tried to salvage.
"I'm informing you, Ron, not lecturing. Not by a long shot. If I were, I would be telling you how foolish I find your avoiding working with Zabini.” That was the last Harry heard as he moved away to avoid the fallout. He knew they loved each other, but they sure did argue a lot.
Harry found watching Hagrid was much better for his state of mind. The half-giant was caught up trying to get the kneazles to play with Lavender. They seemed wary of her for some reason, and the sight of them backing away from the bubbly blonde was sort of comical. Harry felt bad for her because she seemed so saddened by it. Probably because she wanted to coo over them and call them all sorts of appalling nicknames, Harry thought, much as she did to her ex-boyfriend.
Ron was still maintaining his distance from her. It was amusing to see him scurry left and right, especially when Harry caught Hermione smiling when Ron nearly ran into a wall during a particularly evasive manoeuvre.
He was still grinning over the memory of his friend’s antics when Ron wandered over to him. "Mate, sometimes I wonder why we like such hard-headed women." Harry followed his gaze to where Hermione was standing.
Harry saw she had cornered Goyle, the Slytherin seemingly uncomfortable and only nodding in agreement to whatever she was saying, probably wary of her rapidly moving hands as she spoke.
"She's just too stubborn. Said she wanted to settle it with Goyle right now and wouldn’t let me go with her."
Harry was not too concerned. Hermione could take care of herself, and Neville was close enough to intervene in case Goyle needed to be rescued.
"’Mione just wants to do well."
"What about you? Why are you already working with Malfoy?" His friend looked confused and more than a little concerned.
"I've no idea what I'm going to do, so I might as well get started now," Harry avoided the question about working with Malfoy. He didn’t want to push his luck. So far the redhead had managed to keep his complaints about the Slytherin to a minimum. He spotted his Muggle Studies partner propped against a tree a small distance away, his arms crossed and gaze fixed in the distance.
"I don't either," Ron groused, thankfully distracted. "At least we can write about our family lives, and how we'll be brothers. I'll marry ‘Mione, you'll marry Ginny. I wonder how much space I could take talking about the whole extended family...."
Harry nodded vaguely, his attention on Malfoy. A kneazle had joined him, and looked intent on grabbing onto his robes with its claws and climbing up the expanse of the boy's thigh.
He was familiar with Draco's fear of threatening beasts, but it seemed cute and cuddly made him uncomfortable as well. His actions reminded him of the awkward manner he’d initially handled Teddy with.
He smothered a laugh.
"What? Okay, fine. Maybe naming the great-grandkids is a bit much," Ron said, and, although Harry had no idea what he was talking about, he agreed.
When he looked back at Malfoy, it seemed he’d given up and was allowing the kneazle to do what it pleased, even patting it gingerly on the head.
"Hey, Harry?" Ron called his name seriously, gaining his full attention.
"About your date tonight. Just remember to be respectful, yeah? You know I love you, mate, but she is my sister." Ron gripped his shoulder.
"Hey, what's with the face? I approve. You’re the only guy I could trust to treat Ginny right."
Harry could feel a lump forming in his throat and tried his best to swallow it. The truth was his grimace was not formed from concern of Ron acting in his protective fraternal capabilities, but rather because he'd already forgotten he'd promised to meet Ginny.
X x x X x x X x X
What kind of boyfriend forgets he has a date? He was sure Hermione and Ron would not have let him miss it, but he knew there was something seriously amiss if he'd forgotten in the first place.
He pondered what it meant on his way to art class. As soon as he arrived, he greeted Luna and got to work. The suggestion for the day’s lesson was fruit or flowers, and he was grateful for the chance to concentrate on something else.
He could do a bowl of fruit like the one his aunt had hung in her front room.
Harry quickly discarded the idea. Flowers were probably easier to execute, and once he'd made that decision, the choice of which flower to paint was obvious.
The Gryffindor went to the bookshelf. He knew he'd seen it the day before.....He managed to find it wedged in a corner, triumphantly pulling the book on flower classifications out and taking it back to his desk.
He flipped through its pages until he found the section he needed. There were so many types of lilies, but the water lily was the one he thought he could actually manage.
Recalling the instructions from the book he'd read the day before, he cast the incantation and used his wand to collect blue paint, carefully guiding the colour to pool in sections of the canvas until he'd formed the desired pond.
The green pads were next. Some of them ended up resembling deformed hearts, but they were similar enough to the ones in the book he was satisfied. He washed his brush, carefully cleaning it before reaching for the white paint. Holding his hand steady, and after several false starts, he managed to start his first lily. He focussed on getting the placement of the flower petals as close as possible to the picture.
He'd drawn three and only needed to fill the golden centres of his flowers when he decided to take a break. He was curious to see what strange thing Luna had drawn, and was not disappointed when he spotted the odd looking bouquet posed as if it was washed up on the shore.
"It's a bushel of cauliflower," she answered the unspoken question when she noticed him looking.
"The vegetable?"
"Yes." She grinned, adding detail to a cracked seashell on the sand.
"Don't girls like flowers?" He was not an expert on women, not by a long shot, but he'd always thought flowers were what they liked best.
"I prefer this. Flowers are lovely, but we can only trap them in vases and watch them wither. With this you can admire and then eat it," she replied matter-of-factly.
"Some people eat flowers," he said for no particular reason other than he was in a good mood and feeling a little silly.
"They're not that tasty," she said, not missing a beat, and he couldn’t help the grin that spread over his face.
"You know what is, though? Something Dean bought Ginny once and she let me try." She swiped her paint brush against her chin while she mused, leaving peach smudges but she seemed to pay them no mind. "It was made of pineapples shaped liked hearts and flowers. There were even strawberries. It was very nice.
"Much better than flowers," she added, completely convinced edible bouquets were superior.
Harry recognised what she was referring to. He’d seen them in boutique bakery windows before, but he had never had any Muggle money and had known better than to ask his aunt or uncle. It was all about presentation, though, so he doubted it tasted any better than buying the fruits and eating them without all the pomp and circumstance.
Wait. Did he have to bring something for Ginny tonight? With that thought, his previous quandary sprung to mind once more. What was going on with him that he could so casually forget meeting her? He was pants at being a boyfriend, it seemed.
Apparently Dean had been much better. Not only had he given her edible flowers, but Harry remembered he'd taken her on dates, and had even successfully managed to romance her enough it had spurred Ron to fight with his sister over her virtue. Yet here he was completely failing, and, what was worse, not feeling as torn up as he thought he should.
"Luna?"
"Yes, Harry?" The blonde was washing out her brushes and drying them on a cloth, but she set them aside to look at him.
"Do you believe in fate? That people are meant to be?" He regretted his query immediately after he’d made it, but it was too late to take it back. If he were honest with himself, he knew the idea had been planted in his mind after yesterday morning’s conversation with Dean, and it had only grown stronger in the hours that followed. Thankfully, she didn’t ask why he’d ask, but tilted her a bit as if she was seriously considering the question.
"Hmm. Do you know that a lot of cultures believe in soul mates, Harry?"
"Yeah, I guess. I don't know much about it, though."
"After my father’s unsuccessful trip to Sweden to find the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, he got a lead they were migrating, so we expanded our search to the Orient. There are some amazing creatures in Asia, Harry. Just beautiful..." she trailed off for a moment.
Harry didn’t understand what their search for beasts, possibly imaginary ones, had anything to do with fate, but he didn’t interrupt. If Luna had been born a Muggle, he wondered, would she be searching for Big Foot or the Loch Ness Monster? He almost asked her out of pure curiosity.
"But besides their impressive indigenous fauna, we did come across legends of soul mates in various countries." She nodded, a faraway look in her eyes. "Father actually purchased a textbook containing a spell that could identify yours. The vendor practically gave it away. I don't think he really believed it." She shook her head as if to say 'how silly.'
"But you do?" he asked curiously.
Her smile was sweet, if not a little mysterious. "I think people close themselves to a lot of possibilities. I would have tried to confirm it, but I really have no reason to try it out now."
Harry nodded slowly. It was true Luna had not been involved with anyone romantically in all the years they’d attended Hogwarts, and it was not from her lack of beauty.
He knew the reason lay with the odd things she said, a trait he'd come to appreciate, but there were times, like now, she would mention these fantastical things and people were taken aback, labelling her strange or even loony. He knew she wasn't, though.
But a spell that revealed your soul mate? Could such a thing really exist?
X x x X x x X x X
At Hermione’s insistence, he decided to meet up with Ginny outside Gryffindor Tower. She said Ginny would appreciate him picking her up rather than meeting at the lake. Hermione had also offered advice on his clothing (though he refused to change), on what to bring her (though he turned down the idea of bringing her flowers), and a reminder to act natural. All the while, Ron interjected his own advice coloured with encouragement.
Strangely, his friends reminded him more of a parental unit rather than his mates with the way they watched him and urged him on. A part of him expected them to go as far as pinching his cheeks and praising him for being such a good boy.
He wasn't angered by their behaviour; he knew they were only trying to help him. If anything, they were probably reacting to whatever concern Ginny had confided in Hermione.
When he arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady, he was filled with joy at the sight. How many laughs had been shared behind that opening? The crazy antics from the twins….That thought sobered him a bit. He wasn't going to experience that particular brand of merrymaking in or out of those rooms again.
"Harry! It’s good to see you, love."
"Hello, miss," he replied to the Fat Lady, inclining is head.
"I heard all about your room assignments. Poor dears, after having me all these years. He’s bound to be a lot different. How’s it going with him as your portrait guardian?"
Even if he had something to say about Snape, he wouldn't tell her, especially after their unofficial truce. He knew she was fishing for information, and that whatever complaint he'd say would run like wildfire from her friend Violet to the rest of the school.
"It's fine." He almost laughed when she looked disappointed.
"Oh, but if you lived here you would be that much closer to your love," she practically cooed, looking happy once more. "But never mind. You'll make it work, and it’s sweet you’re here to pick her up. Oh, I remember like it was yesterday, watching your father and mother during their own courtship. So sweet they were. Both of you remind me of them, actually. "
He was spared from trying to respond to that when the portrait swung open.
"Harry," Ginny greeted him, stepping out in a nice pair of jeans and a more feminine shirt than the ones she usually wore. She looked nice.
"Hi."
"Go on, you love birds. Enjoy as much time as you can before curfew." The Fat Lady winked at them, giggling behind her hand. He started to turn, eager to get away before she said anything that would make him feel any more awkward.
Ginny hurried to catch up with him, and slipped her hand into his.
There were some people in the hallways, and they were the object of many glances that varied from the sweet looks reminiscent of the encouragement from the Fat Lady to those of indifference. He hoped the portrait didn't get any more enthusiastic about their relationship, but he did want to ask her more about her memories of his parents. He was sure his father had no difficulty wooing his mother. Well, after she changed her mind about him being an arrogant twat, that is.
"They made me captain." Had Ginny been speaking before? He hoped not, but she didn't look upset.
"Good." He gave her a grin. "You deserve it."
"You should try out." Now that they were outside with only the moonlight illuminating the grounds, he couldn't see her as well as before, but he could tell her smile was a mischievous one.
"You just want an excuse to put me through the ringer like Oliver used too," he lightly accused.
"Maybe," she replied with a thoughtful expression, "we can test how well you can dodge those Bludgers."
That made him pause. Although it was delivered in jest, the increased pressure on his hand and the manner in which she delivered it had him seeing himself dodging Bludger after Bludger under the girl’s unceasing attack.
Harry cleared his throat. "I think I’d rather cheer the team on," he replied and realised he meant it.
The yearning for the freedom of the skies was still there, but not wrapped up in competition. He’d much rather play for fun like they'd done during the summer. He should actually take some time to sneak away and fly. His broom was securely stored away in his trunk with his invisibility cloak, and the only problem would be getting past Snape. Maybe if he asked nicely?
A sharp pain radiated through his hand, and he shrank back a little when he met Ginny's glare. Now there was no question she wasn't very pleased.
"What?" he squeaked, much to his embarrassment, but it was her turn to be quiet. She didn't speak, just continued walking until they reached the edge of the lake, their hands still joined. He didn't say anything either. She looked pensive, and that worried him a little. Ginny, like her brother, usually didn't spend much time debating what she wanted to say. They were blunt and honest, and Harry liked that about them...most of the time.
He turned his attention to their surroundings instead. The giant squid undulated its tentacles, waving them with no particular rhythm. Harry walked closer to the shoreline of the lake. The hem of his robe was becoming saturated and his trainers had already taken in water, but he didn't mind too much.
He had already made the decision to buy himself a new pair. It was a little embarrassing they were so run down. Not that he cared about what people thought. He wasn't about to buy something fancy like Malfoy's shoes to impress anyone, but he was reasonably sure he didn't want his toes peeking through the tops of the fabric.
"What is it you want from me, Harry?" The question was sudden, and would have stopped him in his tracks even if Ginny hadn't pulled on his hand to keep him from moving.
It almost felt like an accusation. His brow furrowed in concern. "Nothing."
"Exactly," she said softly to herself, letting go of his hand. It fell back against his side.
"That's the problem. It feels like you don't ask anything from me." She crossed her arms over her chest, and stepped back to put more distance between them.
What was she talking about? He knew if people asked nothing of him he would have been relieved. Why did she look like he was doing something terrible?
"I don't understand," he said finally, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
"I do," she answered shortly, drawing herself a little taller. "You don't ask because there is nothing I can give you." With that last comment, she walked away, leaving him alone at the lakeside.
He knew he should run after her, but he couldn't make his body move. His brain screamed for him to take action, but his heart had nothing to offer. She was dear to him, and he didn't want to make it worse by pursuing her and offering her nothing.
What did he want from her?
He slowly lowered himself to the ground, bringing his knees to his chest.
Harry could recognise he wanted a lot of things, including a purpose and some clarification on what his world had become. He'd returned after fighting for so long, relieved most of them had made it, hurt others had not, and nothing had been the same.
Even the food seemed to taste different. The people were all a changed. He was changed. Was that where the answer lay? Had he changed so much his relationship with Ginny no longer carried the promise of “happily ever after” it had before?
He sat, conflicted by his thoughts until the alarm on Hermione's watch went off in his pocket. She'd given it to him with a smile.
"So you don't get in trouble by missing curfew," she'd explained.
Harry got to his feet, reluctantly making his way back into the castle.
He was not looking forward to the inevitable questions.