Harry Potter & the Deathly Hallows (Page 44-50)

Harry rubbed his forehead roughly. He could feel a headache beginning in his temples. "Well, she can forget it. I’m not jumping because Fleur says jump."
Hermione snorted. "Oh, ho. Now you sound just like Ginny. Besides, Harry, you can get as angry as you want. We all know you’ll never hurt that little girl’s feelings. So, if you really don’t want to spend the evening as her escort, I suggest you get it straightened out with Fleur straightaway."
"Oh, I can see that conversation. I know it’s your wedding day and all, but I really don’t want to child-mind your sister, so please make other arrangements. As if I’m not already high on the list of cads to the Weasleys, anyway," Harry said, rolling his eyes dramatically.
"No one thinks you’re a cad, Harry. Although Fred and George do find the idea of you being Gabrielle’s date highly amusing," Hermione replied, sniggering.
"I’ll just bet they do. Did Ginny have any other little bombshells to drop, or is that enough for one day?" Harry asked, in a right foul mood now.
"Other than her complete misery of being apart from you, you mean?" Hermione asked, blinking innocently.
"Hermione," Harry said, irritated.
"Okay, okay. She did say she thinks there is something dodgy going on at Grimmauld Place. Her mum has been very secretive about it, of course, but the Order seems to have come into a lot of information recently. She’s heard fragments of several conversations about a guest staying there."
"A guest at Grimmauld Place? Who do you suppose it could be?" Harry asked, leaning forward with interest.
"I don’t know, Harry. Why don’t you ask? It is your house, after all," Hermione said, frowning slightly.
"Yeah. Yeah, it’s my house. If I want to know who is staying there, they should tell me. I have every right to know," Harry said, warming to the idea
"Of course you do, but since when has that ever stopped them?"
Harry set his mouth grimly. "Well, that all changes now."
"I know you don’t want to tell the Order about the Horcruxes, Harry, but don’t alienate them, either. There might come a time when we need their help. You know you can trust Remus and Professor McGonagall and all the Weasleys, at least," Hermione said.
Harry knew that Hermione’s first instinct was always to go to someone in a position of authority, but Harry felt that if Dumbledore hadn’t told the Order about the Horcruxes then there must have been a reason. He wasn’t about to second-guess that decision.
"I’ll work with the Order, but I’m not telling them anything about our mission. They had no problem stringing me along for the past few years; let’s see how they enjoy having the shoe on the other foot."
Hermione frowned and bit the corner of her lip but didn’t argue with him for once.
"Don’t worry, Hermione. If Dumbledore didn’t tell them, he must have had a good reason."
This seemed to make Hermione feel better about the situation. "Let’s go downstairs and see about dinner. Ron should be done with his work by now and will be wondering where we’ve gone.
"You go on down. I’m going to take a shower, and I’ll meet you in the kitchen."
"Harry — "
"I just need a few minutes to steady myself before seeing her, all right, Hermione?" he said, looking at his feet.
"I wish it didn’t have to be this way," Hermione said quietly.
"I do, too. Believe me; I do, too."
When Harry came downstairs a good while later, he headed straight for the kitchen, certain he’d find a crowd of Weasleys there. What he hadn’t anticipated was hearing the low murmur of voices coming from the sitting room as he walked past. The sound of his own name caught his attention, and he stopped to hear what was being said.
He had to squint against the dimness of the room, but he could just make out Ron and Hermione sitting on the couch at the far end of the room and speaking in hushed tones. Ron had his arm draped casually over the back of the couch, and Hermione was nestled in the crook. They were stuffing little gift boxes with chocolates — for the wedding, Harry assumed — but it looked as if they were eating more than they were packaging. Harry had to grin, watching them.
"So, he’s upset, and she’s upset. How is that different from anyone else in this bloody house? Someone is always upset." Ron said, scowling moodily.
"It’s more than being upset, Ron. They’re both miserable, and I don’t know what to do about it," Hermione replied, gently swiping a bit of chocolate from Ron’s mouth with her finger.
"Maybe it isn’t up to you to do something," Ron said, his voice strained.
"I know you think he’s right to keep her out of it, Ron…but what if he’s wrong?" Hermione said, resting her head on the back of the couch.
"What do you mean? How is trying to keep her safe wrong?" Ron asked, perplexed.
"Because she’s not safe, no matter what he does. And he might be the one who’s in more danger without her. You saw how happy he was when they were together. How long has it been since you’ve seen Harry that way? Even his marks improved."
Ron shrugged. "Not everything is about marks, Hermione."
"I didn’t say it was," she snapped, sounding a little hurt. "Ron, don’t you see what’s going on?"
"What?"
"Harry’s had a tough life, and not many things have truly gone right for him. Ginny is just about the best thing that ever happened to him. She made him happy, and he’s willing to give her and all that up in order to rid the world of Voldemort so all the rest of us can be safe.
"Ginny has loved Harry since before she even knew what love was. She stood on the sidelines and watched him struggle, even moving on herself rather than forcing her feelings on him. When they finally came together and acknowledged their feelings for each other, it was like every dream Ginny ever had coming true. Now, she’s willingly giving him and all her dreams up, because she knows the rest of our lives depend on his success, and he’d never be able to live with himself if he didn’t try.
"Don’t you see? They are so alike it’s painful. It’s like that Christmas story," Hermione cried.
Ron wore a stunned expression. "What?"
"You know, that old Christmas story about the man who wanted to buy a present for his wife, and he sold the only thing of value he owned — his father’s pocket watch — to buy her a hair clip for her long beautiful hair. Meanwhile, the wife cut her hair and sold it in order to earn enough money to buy a gold chain for the man’s watch.
"It’s beautiful and so romantic in a bittersweet sort of way," Hermione said, smiling sadly.
"You mean they both ended up with a present they couldn’t use?" Ron asked, horrified.
"Oh, Ron. That’s not the point," Hermione snapped. "They ended up with each other."
Harry pulled back sharply and blindly stumbled for the kitchen. He sat down on a stool, breathing heavily. Was that what he and Ginny were doing? Each one sacrificing what was most important to them for the greater good? And would both of them end up with nothing in the end?
He had never wanted to make Ginny suffer. He put his head down and ran his fingers through his hair.
I don’t know.
He’d never considered it as any sort of noble act; he just wanted to keep her safe. Harry was beginning to think there was no way to do that.
"Harry?"
He looked up to find Mrs. Weasley standing in the doorway. She was looking at him with concern over finding him sitting alone in the dark.
"Are you all right, dear?" she asked kindly.
"Yes, Mrs. Weasley. I’m fine."
"Well, I suppose you’d say that even if you weren’t fine."
Harry grinned sheepishly. "Guilty as charged."
Mrs. Weasley poured a glass of cold pumpkin juice and placed in front of him. She sat down in the seat next to him and took his hand in her own. "The one thing in this world that always seems to be in short supply is love, yet it’s the one thing that grows and multiplies the most when shared. We should never throw away a chance to have more of it in our lives. "
Harry looked up into Mrs. Weasley’s eyes and found only warmth and compassion there. He felt his own eyes fill and blinked furiously in order to hold back the tears that suddenly wanted to fall. "I’m just trying to do what’s right, Mrs. Weasley."
"I know you are, dear," she said gently, rising up from the table and kissing him on the head. "She knows it, too."
Harry nodded silently as Mrs. Weasley pushed a piece of warm bread into his hands. "That should hold you until dinner. We’ll be eating out in the garden tonight. There will be more room out there. Be a love and go ahead and start setting the table for me, would you, dear?"
As soon as he went outside, Harry knew he’d been set up. Ginny was already there, placing napkins next to each of the plates. Harry gathered the silverware and began helping her to set the table.
"Let me guess — Mum sent you out here?" she asked without raising her eyes from the table. The low, husky quality in her voice sent a shiver up his spine.
"Yeah," he replied.
They worked in silence for a few moments, working in tandem to set each place setting. Finally, Harry couldn’t take the strained silence anymore. "It’s good to see you, Ginny."
"Is it?" Ginny asked dully.
Harry swallowed. "You have no idea."
"Why did you allow Ron and Hermione to go with you? They’re going with you again, aren’t they? When you go off to do the thing you’re going to do," Ginny said, turning to face him and placing her hands on her hips.
"What?"
"You said you had things to do alone now. Ron and Hermione being with you isn’t actually alone."
"No. They never listen to me."
"Maybe I shouldn’t have listened, either," Ginny said, her eyes glistening brightly.
"Ginny– "
"No. I shouldn’t have said that. I know you’re only doing what you have to do, and I know it isn’t any easier on you. That doesn’t always help," she said, her shoulders slumping.
"I know," he replied, his heart aching. She was absolutely right, but he had no idea what he could say to make it better for her, aside from the one thing she wanted to hear. And that was the one thing he couldn’t — shouldn’t — do.
"So, what happens now? With us, I mean. Do we just go on and pretend nothing has ever changed?" Ginny asked.
"I dunno. Can you do that? ‘Cause I really don’t think I can," Harry said honestly.
Ginny shrugged her shoulders. "I’ll do what I have to do."
"You always do," he said, trying to smile.
"Yeah. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck."
Harry snorted. "No. It does that."
They were interrupted by the arrival of the rest of the Weasley clan, along with Fleur, Hermione, and Ekaterina, Charlie’s Romanian girlfriend. She had long, straight dark hair that hung well below her waist and dark eyes that appeared to study them all intently. She was as opposite to Fleur in coloring as she could be, yet equally beautiful.
"You are Harry Potter," she said in a thick accent, reaching out to shake his hand.
"Yes, I am," Harry said, lowering his eyes.
"I am honored to meet you. I have heard stories of you since I was a little girl," she said.
Harry felt his face burn, and he longed to be anywhere else. He noticed Ginny biting the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing.
"Come on, Katia. You’re embarrassing the kid. Leave him alone," Charlie said, chuckling and tugging on his girlfriend’s hand.
Ginny giggled. "You’ve never got used to that, have you?"
Harry shrugged. "I wish just once someone would say, ‘Hullo, Harry. Nice to meet you,’ and leave it at that."
Ginny grinned and stuck out her hand. "Hullo, Harry. Nice to meet you."
"Ha, ha."
"Oh, ‘Arry. ‘E iz still zo ‘umble," Fleur said, increasing Harry’s embarrassment. "’Ee weel ‘ave all ze girls lining up to dance wiz ‘im at ze reception."
"As long as he saves one for me," Ginny said, and Harry could hear the hard edge in her voice. She was challenging him.
"I can do that," he said, locking his eyes on hers and raising an eyebrow.
"But, Ginny. Don’t go promising all your dances before ze wedding. Jean-Luc is zo anxious to meet you. You may find yourself wishing you had a free dance card," Fleur said, waggling her finely arched eyebrows.
"I think I can manage my own dance partners, thank you, Fleur," Ginny said through gritted teeth.
"But of course you can," Fleur replied, waving her hand dismissively. "I just zink you will be pleazed when you meet ‘im."
"I’m certain I’ll be happy to meet all your family, Fleur," Ginny said sweetly.
Harry had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from bursting into laughter. She sounded so sincere, yet he could hear the snide quality in her voice. His inner monster was dancing an intricate waltz with the knowledge that she wasn’t going to let herself be set up with Jean-Luc. Harry hated his name just on principle.
Of course, that same monster had been snarling in fury just moments ago when Fleur had been attempting to play matchmaker for his Ginny.
He had to stop thinking like that. She wasn’t his Ginny anymore.
"Fleur, my love, you have to stop worrying about everyone else’s dance partners," Bill said, wrapping his arms around Fleur’s waist and nuzzling her neck. "You only have to think about sharing all your dances with me."
Fleur’s eyes softened as she turned to rub her nose against Bill’s. Harry turned away in embarrassment and walked towards the other end of the table.
"They’re sicky sweet, aren’t they? I hope they cool off after they’ve had a honeymoon," Ginny said, wrinkling her nose. "Maybe regular shagging will help."
"Ginny!"
"What? Come on, Harry. They’ve been living here with Mum, who has impropriety detectors hooked up in every room. All that sexual tension has to be released somewhere," Ginny said.
Harry didn’t know if she was joking or not, and he stared at her uncertainly. "Er."
"Oh, I’ll be so happy when this wedding is finally over," she exclaimed.
He didn’t know what possessed him, but he couldn’t stop the words from coming out. "Yeah, and maybe you and Jean-Luc will hit it off splendidly and dance the night away. You’d better keep your mum’s detectors in mind then."
He knew he was in trouble before the words had even finished leaving his mouth.
"Don’t worry, I know my way around them," Ginny said, her voice rising angrily. "What’s it to you, anyway? The idea is to not let anyone know there was ever anything between us, right? Maybe kicking up my heels with a handsome Frenchman is a good way to get that rumor moving."
"Wouldn’t know. Why don’t you try it?" Harry replied, his own anger mounting.
"Maybe I will," Ginny snapped, her eyes suspiciously bright.
"Fine."
"Fine."
Harry turned on his heel and stomped away from the table. He knew his and Ginny’s raised voices had attracted the attention of several of the others, but he didn’t really care at the moment. He stopped at the front of the Burrow and took several deep breaths. None of the Dursleys had managed to get this much of a rise out of him in the entire fortnight he’d spent there. How did she manage to do it three times in the space of a few short hours?
Damn, she can get under my skin.
Harry noticed a fat little garden gnome munching on one of Mrs. Weasley’s prize rose bushes right out in the open without even making an attempt at concealment. With his Seeker reflexes, Harry’s hand shot out and grabbed the little gnome around its middle. Winding up and releasing some of his anger and frustration as he did, Harry flung the creature and watched as it sailed over the fence, screaming all the way.
That felt good.