1997

Ginny leaned against the half-wall of their box, her back pressed to Harry’s chest. He had his arms round her waist and his chin propped on her shoulder.

“Do you think any of them are ever going to talk?” she asked as Harry nuzzled his cheek close to hers.

“I don’t much care,” he murmured. The game had started hours ago and neither the Weasleys nor Severus had spoken at all. Draco had wrinkled his nose in distaste as the box was overrun and had disappeared after only fifteen minutes of the awkward silence. Harry had no idea where he’d gone. He hadn’t cared enough to ask. “What did you tell them anyway? Your dad and brothers.”

“That you expressed your undying love of course. With a serenade.”

“Oh, you did not.”

Ginny laughed. “Yes I did. But of course you couldn’t actually visit, so you sent Hedwig with a letter charmed with the song.”

“And that would convince you to see me?” Harry asked dubiously.

Ginny turned in his arms; her lips were twitching. “What song would you sing?”

“Erm… Well, I do know the Cannons’ anthem.”

Ginny wrinkled her nose. “How romantic.”

“No? You thought a Snitch necklace was romantic,” he teased. Ginny smiled as she touched the silver Snitch at her throat. She stretched up for a kiss and Harry obliged with a smile. The Snitch had definitely been a brilliant idea. He took his time kissing her, paying no mind to the rest of the world until there was a great roar from the crowd… the announcer saying something…

“I think Italy just got the Snitch.”

“Mmm…”

Ginny’s laugh against his lips made Harry smile and he pulled back so he could let his eyes take in every soft line of her face. “Think your dad will let you come back to the cottage?”

“Have you moved everything in?” Ginny asked with surprise.

“Mostly.”

Ginny had to stop talking then, since conversation was another thing Harry didn’t care for just now. His lips lingered on hers and he wished they weren’t at the match.

“What’s so funny?” Ginny murmured, her own mouth twitching at his smile.

“Not funny,” he told her. “Wishing we were alone.”

“Harry,” his father’s deep voice interrupted and Severus’ hand settled briefly on his shoulder. Harry sighed softly and pulled away from Ginny. Witches and wizards were making their way slowly back to ground level. “Arthur has invited us for dinner.”

“Yeah?” He glanced around his father, finding the Weasleys standing in a nervous clump. “Er… Mrs. Weasley?”

“She is not expecting us, but Arthur assures me we are welcome.”

Harry wanted to smirk at the irony of that statement but instead turned to Ginny.

“Mum will be happy to see you,” Ginny said before Harry could ask. She wasn’t smiling any longer though. She took a little breath and said to Severus, “It really wasn’t their fault. Harry knows, but it was really-”

“Gin, you don’t need to explain anything,” Harry interrupted; he squeezed her hand. “Dad understands.” Harry knew Dad didn’t understand, but he wasn’t going to let Ginny apologize again.

Ginny glanced between Harry and Severus, obviously not believing Harry for a moment, but of course Severus’ face gave away nothing and finally she nodded on a sigh. His arm secure around Ginny’s waist, they turned, stepping together toward the waiting Weasleys.

--

The Weasley men went through the door first, with Harry sandwiched between Ron and Ginny… and Severus trailing at the end of the queue; Remus had gone home to reclaim Sirius from Dobby.

Mrs. Weasley was overseeing half a dozen pots and pans; she waved distractedly as her family trooped in, not even noticing the extra bodies until Arthur said over the din, “Molly dear… we’ve brought visitors…”

“Visitors?” she echoed. She looked up and froze; the expression on her face would have been comical. Except that tears immediately sprang to her eyes and she warbled, “Harry?”

Ginny had an arm firmly around his waist and Mrs. Weasley looked between them, her face doing all sorts of strange contortions. She finally settled on a watery smile as she pushed Fred and George aside to get to Harry. She gripped his shoulders and Harry managed a very feeble, “Hi.”

The tears spilled over and Harry found himself clutched in a frighteningly strong embrace. He tried to let his shoulders relax, but it took more effort than he had. He hadn’t realized until this moment exactly how rejected he’d been feeling. Mrs. Weasley had, for years, been the closest thing he had had to a mother and though his rational mind told him that she hadn’t really cast him away, the ache in his throat said differently.

“Oh Harry,” she said softly as she brushed a hand through his hair. It seemed like she wanted to say something else but she only sniffed a few times, and after another agonizing moment, she stepped back.

Harry ducked his head, afraid that his emotions would show on his face. Ginny’s hand slipped into his again and he let himself glance up quickly; her face was pinched with worry. He smiled but it only deepened the anxiety in her dark eyes. He tugged her closer, but even that didn’t relax her.

“Dinner will just be another few minutes,” Mrs. Weasley said in between sniffs; she was dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Boys, help me set the table, would you and Arthur… perhaps Severus would like a drink.” She ushered the twins and Ron to find the plates, and smiled once more between Ginny and Harry before bustling off to her pans.

Arthur gestured awkwardly toward the parlour, and looking very stiff, Severus followed. Not wanting to leave his father alone with Ginny’s dad, Harry went with them, Ginny’s fingers still firmly twined with his. Harry pressed his lips to her hair. He hadn’t expected her to be so rattled and he wondered how long it would take for her to forgive herself.

“Oy. Ron…”

Harry twisted, half-way into the parlour. Fred was in front of the kitchen window. Ron looked over from where he was plunking forks onto the table.

“What?”

Fred gestured limply toward the glass. “Erm… Hermione.”

Ron froze.

Ginny drew in a sharp breath.

Mrs. Weasley dropped the pot she was holding.

And the twins turned at the same moment—toward Harry.

Harry wanted to close his eyes, but he wasn’t quite coward enough; he could almost feel the ax grazing his neck.

Ron yanked his shirt straight and swallowed loudly. His face as pale as bone, he went outside.

As if he was stuck inside a Pensieve, Harry watched through the window as Ron crossed the lawn, his steps clearly unsure. Neither he nor Hermione spoke for long minutes when he finally reached her.

Hermione finally spoke first, her lips moving so fast that Harry couldn’t imagine that Ron would be able to decipher what she was saying, even so close. But Harry knew the instant that Hermione told Ron about the kiss. The nervous fidgeting stopped abruptly and then Ron spun around so quickly that Harry took a step back.

He heard the swish of his father’s robes behind him and was unprepared for the solid wall of Ginny that suddenly materialized in front of him as the kitchen door was flung open. It smacked against the window pane and a collective breath was held. But the glass stayed intact and Ron, his face red and livid, stalked forward.

Harry would have liked to say he didn’t even flinch, but if his father hadn’t been blocking his exit, he would have fled.

“You!”

Ginny matched his next step forward. “Don’t you dare, Ron Weasley!” Her voice was loud in the hush.

“Me?” Ron said, just as loudly, “He-”

“I already know,” she drowned him out. “And it wasn’t his fault. Hermione must have told you so.” She didn’t let Ron answer, ploughing ahead, her hands on her hips, “It meant nothing; you know very well that Harry would never betray you like that. He loves you, even though you don’t deserve it. And Hermione was just upset and confused. And she loves you too. I’m not angry about it. So you,” she said, jabbing Ron’s chest with her finger, “grow up, go outside and snog Hermione senseless.”

Ron’s mouth finally snapped shut. He stared at Ginny for a long minute, his gaze switching very briefly to Harry and then he pivoted round, stalked out the door and pulled a very surprised Hermione to him. He did kiss her, for several minutes until both of them gasped for air.

Their eyes were glazed as Ron tugged her over the threshold and back into the kitchen, though the haze quickly left as Ron planted himself and Hermione in front of Mrs. Weasley, his mouth set in a determined line. Mrs. Weasley looked like she wanted both to embrace Hermione and scold her but, not unexpectedly, the hug won out.

She was dabbing at her eyes again as she released Hermione and began scooping up pasta with a wave of her wand. “Sit, sit, everyone,” she called out, waving her occupied hands toward the table.

With a great deal more cheer Ginny pulled Harry to one end while Ron pulled a chair out for Hermione at the other. Harry was watching his friend carefully, but finally, Ron looked up and after a wary moment, he grunted and plopped himself down next to Hermione. Harry caught Ginny’s eye and they grinned; that grunt was as good as a declaration of brotherhood as far as Harry was concerned.

“Does anyone want to help test out our newest product line after dinner?” George asked brightly as the rest of the family was seated, Severus on Harry’s other side. Mrs. Weasley eyed George over the tray of chicken.

“Don’t worry, mum, it’s nothing dangerous,” Fred assured her and then grinned. “Well, it won’t damage anything permanently anyway…”

“Now see here, young man,” Mrs. Weasley began to lecture, even as she gave him a generous helping from the platter.

Harry grinned at his father’s resigned expression. Severus glanced over; he shook his head, the barest smile on his lips.

Everything’s all right, Harry told him silently; nearly giddy with relief.

Yes, I can see that… Affection clear in his father’s black eyes, but he was looking at Ginny, who was running her fingers absently through Harry’s hair as she suggested that Fred should test their products in their flat, instead of trying to destroy the Burrow. Remind me not to invite the twins to our cottage, Severus added, his flames coming forward to warm Harry through.

Harry’s storm vibrated with laughter.