The Bargain
3: Reconciliations
By Mr. Intel
Chapter Three — Reconciliations
When Ginny awoke the next morning, the first thing she did was make sure that Hermione was still asleep. Hermione's face was buried in her covers, but her breathing made it clear that she sleeping soundly; she had been up late last night and hadn’t come to bed until the wee hours of the morning. The second thing Ginny did was to remember that she had less than twelve days to straighten things out with Harry Potter — either to marry him or suffer the consequences.
As she sat on her bed, a dim light washing through her curtains, Ginny’s eyes searched through the mess that was her bedroom floor for her dressing gown. It was underneath a pile of used parchment and a cracked bottle of ink. Ginny leaned down to pick it up and carefully moved the ink bottle onto a bit of parchment.
Because the size of the crack was so small, the ink had only run out in small drops and her dressing gown was only marred by a few small splotches on it. Her mum would be able to get those out in a snap, so Ginny wrapped it around her thin body, tied it closed, and then walked downstairs.
"Good morning, dear," Molly said cheerfully when Ginny arrived in the kitchen. "Have a good sleep?"
Ginny sat heavily on one of the chairs at the table and gave her mother a withering stare. "Do you have to ask?"
Molly lit a fire on one of the burners and set a heavy iron skillet on it. "No," she responded. "I suppose not."
Soon, eggs and toast were heaped on large platters and Ginny found herself helping her mum set the table, a chore she performed like any other morning.
"It’s not all that bad, you know," Ginny’s mum said.
Ginny set a fork down and looked up to her. "Really? I’m not sure how much worse it could get. Maybe you could help me see what's not bad about it?"
"Mind your tongue, Ginny Weasley. I’m still your mum. Sulking about things you can’t change won’t make them better."
Ginny let out a lingering breath. "I’m sorry, Mum. You’re right. I’m just not ready for a commitment like this. For crying out loud, I’m only fifteen!"
Molly finished with the plates and took the remaining silverware from Ginny’s hand. "And a wise fifteen-year-old, who knows her limits but wants more than what she’s got," she replied. "Age has nothing to do with making difficult decisions."
Taking the nearest chair out, Ginny sat down and started to push a knife back and forth on the tablecloth. "What am I going to do? I used to fancy Harry, then I walled him out of my heart because he would never feel the same way about me; I still don’t know how he feels about me, and I’m completely confused about what to do now. I mean... it’s twelve bloody days — I just can’t do it, Mum!"
Her mother put the last of the forks in their places and caught Ginny’s eye. "You need to sort out your feelings, of course, and I think that you need a proper courtship for that to happen. You can’t rush headlong into marriage, arranged or not." Molly cast a heating charm on the food and stood behind Ginny. Reaching out her hand, she pulled Ginny’s hair back into a loose ponytail and said, "Let him come to you, Ginny. He’s a bright boy and he'll eventually see what a wonderful, attractive, and independant young woman you are. We just have to hope that ‘eventually’ is sooner rather than later."
Snorting, Ginny let her mother buoy her spirits, even if she thought staying in the comforting depths of self-pity was the better option.
*
Harry’s morning was scarcely better. Instead of an anxious mother, he had to deal with a best friend who also happened to be the brother of the girl he was supposed to marry.
For the first time since Harry had known him, Ron had woken up before Harry. The first thing that Harry saw upon waking was Ron, sitting on the end of his bed, arms folded, giving Harry the most penetrating stare he had ever received.
"Uh, g’morning?" Harry ventured.
Ron didn’t respond, other than pinching his lips together even more tightly than they already were.
"I’ll just head to the loo, then," Harry said, edging past Ron and making his way downstairs to the floor that held the girls’ room and the bathroom.
As Harry set foot on the landing, he caught sight of Ginny walking downstairs, but didn’t dare call out to her. Instead, he stopped where she had been and allowed her lingering scent to fill his nostrils. Why did girls have to smell so good? he mused.
After using the bathroom, Harry returned to Ron’s bedroom to pull on some socks and his dressing gown over his pyjamas, while a fully dressed Ron waited for him by the door.
"You need to say something, Ron?" Harry asked. "I’d rather you get whatever it is off your chest so we can work it out."
Ron stared at Harry for another moment, and then said, "Do you want to marry my sister?"
Harry met his gaze and, feeling a sense of dread fill him, said, "Well, it’s not like I’ve got a lot of choice right now, really."
"Listen," Ron said in the sternest voice that Harry had ever heard from him. "Forget about what you have to do. Tell me what you want to do."
Having never before considered the question, Harry took a second to think about it. Then looking back up to his friend, said, "I don’t know." He walked over to Ron’s dresser and looked at himself in the mirror. His hair fell untidily on his head, his face had lost most of the softness of youth and his shoulders had grown as broad as he remembered Cedric Diggory’s had ever been. "I mean...Ginny’s been a good friend for a while now. She’s funny and smart and...well...pretty." Harry turned back to Ron and held out his hands. "Why can’t I just see where things naturally lead?"
Ron relaxed his arms and nodded solemnly. "Why not? I’ll tell you why, you dozy dough-head, because you don’t really have the luxury of time. One thing I do know, however, is that you’ve got to go into this with a decision made. Either decide that you want to marry my sister, or that you don’t. If you get wishy-washy, Ginny will eat you alive."
Once again, Harry looked inside himself and drew up an image of Ginny in his mind. She was laughing, telling him off for sulking, giving him a playful look, and all the other pleasant things that he had seen her do over the past two years. Try as he might, he couldn’t conjure up a picture of her that wasn’t delightful. Do I want to be married to Ginny? Could I live with her forever?
More images came: Ginny laughing as he was holding her hand, her falling asleep with her head in his lap, Ginny sitting in a rocking chair, rocking a bawling infant with messy black hair. He felt his heart stop for a moment. Whatever he’d just seen, he wanted it to be real with all his heart.
Harry straightened his back and looked Ron in the eye. "Ron," he spoke quietly, but with confidence, "I’m going to marry your sister."
A moment lingered where a spider’s thread of fear mingled with his confidence. Ron smiled. "You’re going to have to go about this properly, then," he told Harry, rubbing his hands together. "You’re going to need to win her heart, buy her a ring and propose to her," Ron said, ticking the items off on his fingers. He was so completely serious that Harry couldn’t help but agree to everything he was saying, hardly wondering what qualifications Ron had in knowing how to properly court a girl.
"We’re going to Diagon Alley after breakfast. Get dressed and meet me downstairs. Bring your money pouch and your vault key."
Ron turned and left the room, leaving Harry goggling after him.
*
Molly’s cooking was as good as he had remembered it, but Harry barely noticed. He was too busy staring at Ginny, who was looking at anything but him. Hermione and Ron were exchanging nervous glances and Molly whispered in Ginny’s ear from time to time, but nothing seemed to be able to convince Ginny to pay Harry the least bit of attention.
At long last, breakfast was over and Ginny left the dining room to wash the dishes in spite of her mother’s protests. Molly followed her into the kitchen and Hermione walked towards the living room.
"I’m off to the Ministry again," Hermione announced. "There’s been loads of changes to the law since 1016 and I’ve only been through half of the records."
She left before either of the boys could say anything and Ron shook his head after she had gone. "Mental. Completely out of her mind, that one."
When Harry didn’t say anything, Ron nudged him and said, "Let’s go. The sooner we get to Diagon Alley, the sooner we can get back and start working on how you’re going to approach Ginny."
Harry followed his friend to the living room fireplace and watched as Ron extended the small clay pot of Floo powder to him. "You first, Harry."
With a slight tremble in his hand, Harry took a pinch of powder and threw it into the grate. "The Leaky Cauldron," he announced with a warble, but making sure to speak clearly. The fire sparked emerald and he was sucked into a twisting, turning network of fireplaces.
Harry slid onto the main floor of London’s all-Wizarding pub and was immediately pulled to his feet by a pair of rough hands.
"Well, well, well," said a familiar voice behind him. "Fancy meeting you here."
Ron slid through the grate just then and, after dusting soot off his robes, said, "Oh, good. You’re all here."
Harry turned around and looked into the faces of his on-and-off-again minders: Nymphadora Tonks, Alastor Moody, and Remus Lupin. "Hello," Harry offered weakly. "Here to see the Boy-Who-Just-Learned-He’s-Getting-Married?"
Remus laughed and took Harry by the shoulder. "You’ve got a long way before you’re that far, Harry. The four of us have decided that you’ll need a crash course on courtship before you can even think about marriage."
"And a heavy dose of how to not bollix up your fledgling love life," added Tonks with a wink.
Remus steered Harry into the alley with Ron next to him and Moody and Tonks taking up the rear.
"Courting a young lady need not be expensive," Remus began, "but in this instance, it wouldn’t hurt to pull out all the stops, so our first stop will be Gringott’s for some spending money."
"All right," Harry replied. He was more than a little nervous about the idea of courting Ginny, but his earlier determination stuck with him. Harry would not let the sword of impotence drive him to do something he wouldn’t normally do — he would have to make his best effort to convince Ginny that he truly wanted her and that they could make marriage work.
Sensing that Remus wanted to be alone with Harry, Tonks took Ron by the arm and walked him towards the lobby. A security troll looked on with squinted eyes while a goblin led Harry and Remus to the vaults.
"So, Harry," Remus began, clearing his throat, as they stepped into the cart. "I feel I would be remiss if I didn’t point out all of your options. I understand that you’ve decided to pursue a relationship with Ginny. If, for some reason, it doesn’t work out between you..."
The cart began to roll forward and Remus paused, firmly gripping the handle in front of them. His eyes widened in the darkening passageway as they approached the first dip. When they followed the track down a particularly long drop, his face turned green and Harry had to laugh at his discomfiture.
They sped around a corner, and through another dip. Harry had done this enough to know that the next branch to the right would be their stop and was glad because he didn’t know how much longer Remus would be able to hold onto his breakfast.
But the cart didn’t turn. "Hey," Harry said loudly to the goblin sitting in the front of the cart. "You missed the turn back there." The goblin didn’t so much as twitch an ear. Harry was about to yell louder, but Remus pulled on his arm and shook his head.
Instead, the cart dipped again and began a series of twists and turns that left Harry utterly lost. At last they started to slow and Harry noticed a dim glow emanating from a spot in the distance.
When they arrived at the end of the track, they were faced with several sets of vaults on either side that were large enough to fit the whole of the Burrow within them. The numbers above their doors were double digits, and as they continued down the track, they ticked down until the teens, then they were under ten and the cart slowed to a crawl.
"Vault number five," the goblin announced when it stopped completely and promptly exited the cart.
Harry helped Remus step onto the platform and turned to address the goblin. "I think you may have made a mistake, sir. My vault is on a completely different level."
"No," said Remus, who was leaning against one of the handsomely carved columns along the vault wall. "This is your family vault, Harry. The other one was just for your use until you came of age. The contents of that vault, as well as what Sirius left you..." He took a breath, steadied himself, and then continued, "are now in here."
The goblin had opened the vault while they had been talking, so Harry didn’t see how it was done, but all that was forgotten when he was confronted with the capacious, gold-filled...cavern that was now his.
In every corner, and all along the walls, were stacks and stacks of Galleons. There were chests and shelves and strongboxes bulging with money.
"But...Remus," Harry said as he turned to look at his guardian, "what do I do with it all? I don’t want it — I don’t need it."
Remus had regained a bit of his colour and gave a slight chuckle. "Harry, you’re about to get married. That means that all of this will not just be yours any more. Besides, you’re going to need a far amount of money today when we go shopping for you and your intended."
Harry nodded sheepishly and once again found himself trying to stretch his mind around such an overwhelming concept.
"Oh, and Harry?" Remus asked. "Before I forget... what I was trying to tell you before is that if it doesn’t work out between you and Ginny — what I mean is, if for some reason you and she can’t make it work, you could always fulfil the requirements of the bargain and then go your separate ways."
Harry was silent for a long while. Then, in a voice dripping with anger, he said, "You mean, marry Ginny, do the deed, and then get divorced or run away?"
"Well," Remus said as he scooped a sizeable chunk of Galleons into a bag, "technically, there is no such thing as divorce in the Wizarding world. So...you’d still be married, but you wouldn’t have to stay together."
"Remus, that is the most despicable thing I have ever heard," Harry spat softly, advancing towards Remus, who began to back away. "I could never look at myself in the mirror if I tried that, much less look at Arthur or Molly. Never mention that again, Remus. I may not be the best of persons, but I’m not a liar and I’m not an adulterer."
"I understand," Remus soothed. "I felt I owed it to you to point that option out. Personally, I’m glad you feel that way. Just make sure that Ginny knows that’s how you see it. Girls love that kind of thing."
*
Ginny sighed as she set aside her soaked dish towel and stared absently at the rack of drying breakfast dishes. With one more year of being an underage witch to go, she was simply itching to make chores like this easier with a flick of her wand, but in this instance, she was glad for the mindless distraction.
Sorting through her feelings for Harry and, more importantly, about how they were going to deal with the prospect of marriage or life-long infertility had been difficult for Ginny. A smile crept onto her face every time she thought about Harry being her husband — her not-so-secret dream since she was able to read. But that feeling was tempered with the reality of marriage. She’d watched first-hand the ups and downs her parents went through — there had been many rough patches to their relationship — and so she had more than ample reason to be wary.
Her mother was whistling as she directed a broom across the floor in the now-vacant dining room. But the noisy whump of the Floo being activated told Ginny that it was soon to be occupied by at least one more person.
"Goodness," Molly exclaimed, and Ginny walked carefully over to the door separating the kitchen from the dining room to hear properly. "What brings you here, Albus?"
"My apologies, Molly. I would have announced myself appropriately, but time is of the essence, and I knew that Harry would be away just now." His voice was as calm and endearing as ever, but Ginny found herself wishing that she could see his face — it always conveyed his emotional state much better than his voice alone could.
"Oh, well, it’s not a problem, Albus. I was just tidying up. Would you like to have a seat?" Ginny heard the broom being banished to the closet and the scrape of wooden legs on their tile floor.
"Actually, I was wondering if I might fetch Arthur for a moment. It would be best if we had him here for this."
There was a pause and Ginny could imagine the storm clouds gathering around her mother’s head. "He’s at work, Albus," Molly said in a cool voice. "You know where to find him."
"I shall return in a moment. Maybe a spot of tea would be helpful?"
A slight pop sounded and Ginny moved towards the stove automatically, placing a kettle on to boil.
"Ginny, dear?" her mum called. "Put on a kettle for me, please. Dumbledore will be here in a minute."
"Yes, Mum," Ginny said as she lit the burner and gathered the tea service and a tray from the cupboard.
A few minutes later, a crack echoed from the dining room and Ginny wondered how her father could have arrived so soon. Besides, she was certain that her father’s Apparation noise was a little bit quieter and less pronounced. It sounded almost like Bill’s.
"Hello, Mum," said Bill unexpectedly.
"Well, if it isn’t our number one son. How are you, dear? Did you get the package I sent you?"
"Yes, Mum. The tin of ginger biscuits was a big hit at the office. But I came to ask after Ginny. Is she here?"
There was a flurry of whispers and then the room went silent. Too silent. Ginny leaned towards the door to hear, but the kettle took that moment to whistle, and she moved back to the stove instead. When the tea service was ready, Bill hadn’t come into the kitchen as she expected. She took an extra cup, saucer and spoon and set them next to the others.
Ginny lifted the tray, grasping it firmly from each end, and made her way to the dining room. Sitting down at opposite sides of the table were her mother and eldest brother. At the head of the table were her father and the Headmaster of Hogwarts. Although their mouths were moving, she couldn’t hear a word of it.
"The tea is ready," she announced and walked towards her brother, but no one seemed to hear her. She walked through a section of air that seemed thicker than the rest. It resisted, but she was able to push through it and she found herself able to hear the conversation. "Hello, Bill," Ginny said as she set the tray down on the table.
Bill stood and embraced his sister. "Hello, little bit."
Ginny set out the cups and proceeded to pour the tea. The feeling of four pairs of eyes on her head was acute and the accompanying silence stifling.
When she had finished, Ginny walked towards the door, but was called back by Dumbledore.
"I had hoped," he said as she turned to face him, "that you would be able to stay and listen, Miss Weasley. Perhaps we can be of some assistance with the many questions you must have."
Ginny looked to her mother and father, who both nodded, and then back to Dumbledore. "All right."
"Very good," Dumbledore said. "Now, Arthur, Molly, let’s start with you."
Molly took a sip from her cup and cleared her throat. "Remus made it sound like there was nothing that could be done — that either Harry and Ginny were to be married, or that they wouldn’t be able to have babies. Is that right?"
Dumbledore produced a piece of parchment from his robes and handed it to Molly. "Once Remus notified me that Harry had spoken to Ginny, I went to Minister Fudge and personally requested that there be an investigation into our options. You’ll find the signature of all the members of the Wizengamot on the bottom."
Molly read through it once and then handed it over to Arthur, who withered under her cold stare. "It’s an amendment to the decree," Dumbledore said, once Arthur had read it. "It is now illegal to arrange marriages under Wizarding law. However, it also states that it would not affect marriages that are already arranged, or those that are pending. Not much help, I know, but unfortunately, this was as far as we could go. Several curse-breakers were consulted, including Bill," Dumbledore nodded at the Gringotts employee and continued, "and it was decided that it would be too dangerous to try to annul the arrangement."
"Ginny?" Bill started softly. "Do you mind if I check you with my wand? I promise not to trip the jinx."
The threat of instant menopause jumped into Ginny’s mind and she felt herself slinking back from Bill. She bit her lip but felt the trust she had developed for her brother over the last fifteen years burn through the fear. "Go ahead."
Bill produced his wand and pointed it towards the ground; with a swirling motion, he then raised it above her head. He muttered a strange-sounding incantation before circling her entire body, sheathing her in an ethereal blue light. Ginny felt a strange tugging in her middle as the wand moved, as though Bill’s probing was on the verge of collapsing some vital organ. Ginny almost yelled out for him to stop, but he dropped his hand and started to point at various parts of the spell.
"It’s just as I thought," Bill said suddenly and then whistled. "I’ve seen things like this before; it’s a combination of about thirty charms and hexes." His wand highlighted different shaded areas around her, and then he drew lines from one to the next. "They’re linked together such that tampering with one of them causes them all to cascade until every one of them is tripped. It’d take years of constant monitoring and lots of calculations just to figure out the right order to attack this. This is really good work."
Bill cancelled the spell and the light vanished. "I’m so glad you admire the craftsmanship, brother of mine," Ginny said wryly. "From where I’m sitting, I certainly wouldn’t call anything about this ‘good’."
With a sad smile, he wrapped an arm around her, gave a gentle squeeze, and said, "Hang in there. We’ll work something out."
Ginny gradually fell out of the conversation as the four adults continued to talk about different options. Her thoughts turned to Harry and what he was doing right now. She wondered if he was as scared as she was, if he had given any more thought to their conversation last night. In the midst of so many odd feelings and terrible consequences, one thing was certain: if she and Harry were going to make this work, Harry was going to have to take the initiative for once. Ginny wasn’t going to pine after him like a lovesick little girl any more.
Ignoring the quizzical looks from her parents and brother, she slipped quietly out the garden door and into the bright afternoon sunlight.
*
"Oi, watch it," Ron said when a gaggle of twittering witches walked past, gaping and pointing at Harry.
They had come out from Gringotts with an odd device that Harry instantly equated with a Muggle credit card — apparently there was a hefty fine for taking sums over two thousand Galleons outside of the bank directly. It was a bit of parchment that was half the size of a normal piece, and according to the goblins, charmed to transfer money from a special holding cell on the ground floor of the bank to wherever he was. All he had to do was write a number on the parchment with his wand, scribble his signature with the wand, and that sum of money would appear on the paper.
Since Remus and Tonks were the ones in charge of preparing Harry for his courtship, they took the lead and walked promptly to Madam Malkin’s for a complete set of new robes — dress and everyday use.
"Now, Harry," Tonks said after they finished purchasing their robes and made their way around the alley towards the jewellery shop. "It’s going to take more than fancy clothes and fine jewellery to get you into Ginny’s knickers." She pointed to where Ron was struggling with several formal robes, both men’s and women’s, that they had purchased earlier.
Harry’s face flamed red while Ron’s jaw dropped open. "I’d really prefer that you not put it quite that way. I’ve turned down any number of flings with girls I didn’t care for," Harry said.
Tonks giggled, looking at the slack-jawed Ron, making her rather long purple hair shake in an odd way. "Don’t like the idea of Harry in bed with your sister?"
Ron, who was carrying several of their purchased robes, shoved a lovely rust-coloured dress with a plunging neckline out of his face. "To tell the truth, I was always hoping Harry would be the one. I just didn’t think it’d happen so soon."
Harry stopped walking and turned to face Ron. "Really? You’re...okay with all of this?"
Ron sized him up for a moment and nodded. "You’ll treat her right, Harry. I just don’t want to hear any of the sordid details, all right?"
Harry smiled, but the smile fell just as quickly from his face. "That is assuming I’ll actually win her over."
"Cheer up, mate," Ron soothed. "It’s like I told you: she likes you just fine. You just need to be clear on your objective and then take the initiative."
"Right," Harry muttered, turning back to follow Tonks and Remus. "I’ll try to keep that in mind."
*
Out in the garden, Ginny spent the afternoon wandering from one childhood memory to the next. The tree house where she had caught Charlie kissing a girl from the village, back when Ginny was five. The pond that held so many memories that she sat for an hour reliving them all. The paddock that served as Quidditch Pitch, extra-large dining room, and hosted just about every event that was too big for the Burrow.
Ginny smiled to herself when she realised that every place she visited, every memory eventually came back to Harry. The tree house was also where she first heard Harry’s name — Bill had told her and Ron the story of how Harry had first defeated Voldemort countless times as she fell asleep in his arms. The pond was where the twins had teased her endlessly about him before he had arrived that fateful summer prior to her own trip to Hogwarts. The paddock was where she spent hours thinking about her possession by Voldemort and the courageous and humble young boy who had saved her from him.
With a sigh, Ginny found herself back in the paddock, swinging from an oak tree on an ancient rope swing. She hadn’t lied to her mother the previous night. She did love Harry, and something pinched deep within her when she thought about him. The simple fact was, she would always love him, but the current circumstances warranted a slight change to how she would manifest that love. No longer would she be the silly little girl Tom Riddle had found so easy to prey upon. Ginny was going to make sure that Harry earned her hand properly.
As she pushed on the swing with renewed effort, a lone figure appeared out of the stand of trees that blocked her view of the Burrow. She stopped pumping her legs and let the swing’s energy bleed away naturally while he walked towards her. By the time the swing was at only half its previous height, Harry was standing in front of her.
"Nice day for a swing," he remarked. His hands were in his pockets and he leaned against the tree. The soft breeze floated through his hair and pushed it into impossibly divergent directions.
Ginny had to catch her breath before she could speak. "Yes, it is," she said, proud that there wasn’t the slightest quiver in her voice.
"Mind if I join you?"
The question was so startling that Ginny’s eyes jerked over to him and she put out a foot to catch the ground. When she was completely stopped, she stood and pointed to the wood slat she had been sitting on. "It’s a little small for that, don’t you think?"
Harry approached her and pulled his hands out of his pockets. "I reckon the worst thing that could happen is that we fall off."
Ginny narrowed her eyes, detecting a hint of challenge in his voice. So that’s how it’s going to be?
"All right," she said and took hold of one rope with her right hand while she sat gingerly on one side of the seat.
Harry bunched up next to her and pushed off…
"I’ve been doing a lot of thinking today," Harry began. Ginny could tell that he was slightly frightened about something, so decided to let him talk it out. It was easier for him to speak when left to himself.
"A-And I really don’t know what I did to upset you last night, so I wanted to start out by apologising." Because they were both facing forwards, Ginny found it easy to not be distracted by his messy hair, mesmerising eyes, or handsome face. "Because I’m not one for holding a grudge, and hoped that we could start things out normal, and..."
"Harry," Ginny interrupted quietly, "you’re babbling."
"Oh," he replied sheepishly. "I’m sorry — I hadn’t realised...."
Ginny let out a musical laugh and turned to regard his profile. "I forgive you for what happened. I suppose I should have gone a little easier on you, as we’re in the same boat and, well...it really isn’t your fault. If anything, I should be upset with Dad."
The swing’s arc began to ebb. "Don’t be hard on him, Ginny," Harry said. "Your mum’s got his punishment handled just fine, if I heard it right. Besides, we shouldn’t let what anyone else thinks get between us. We’ve got to handle this on our own."
She smiled and moved her hand to cover his on the rope. His gesture of equality and companionship did more to heal her wounds than anything else. "Thanks, Harry."
His hand seemed to tremble slightly underneath hers as he began to swing again, pushing off from the ground. "My pleasure," he whispered.
They turned to face each other at the same time, his eyes sheltered behind his glasses, hers full of wonder and curiosity.
"So what do you say? Do you think we could try to make this work?" Harry asked, almost shyly.
Ginny could see him swallow in anticipation of her answer. "What did you have in mind?" She wasn’t going to let him off that easy.
Harry cleared his throat. "Well, we’ve got to get married, right? I think we need to get to know one another better and see if we can make a go of it."
Putting her feet down to stop the swing, Ginny turned to face him as fully as their position allowed. "We don’t exactly have a whole lot of time, you know? And what if we decide that we loathe each other? What happens then?"
With a defeated look, Harry dropped his gaze. "Well, if that happens, then we have to suffer the consequences, I guess." He looked back up to her and his awkwardness was replaced with a strength that took Ginny’s breath away. "But I don’t think we’ll ever loathe each other, Ginny. We’ve been good friends for too long."
They sat there for what seemed like an hour, just staring at each other. Then Ginny reached out her free hand and cupped Harry’s cheek. "I’d love to give it a go — getting to know you better, Harry." She stood and disengaged her hand. Then, turning back to him, she said, "You’re right, by the way. We have been friends too long."
Harry stood and slowly approached her. "Then let’s do this properly." He reached out a tentative finger and touched the knuckles on her hand. "Ginny? Would you, um...like to double up with Ron and Hermione tomorrow? For a picnic?"
Ginny regarded him and was surprised to see the insecurity return to his eyes. The thought that she had such power over him sent chills racing up her spine. "That sounds lovely, Harry." Relief washed over him and he moved even closer. Ginny held out a hand to let him know that they were still just friends — friends looking to see if they could be husband and wife — and said, "I’d better go finish my chores. Mum will need my help making dinner."
"Oh," Harry said, obviously disappointed. "You wouldn’t want to upset your mother."
"Bye," Ginny said with a small wave and backed away from Harry.
"Bye, Ginny," Harry said as she turned around and walked away.
As she made her way back up the path towards the Burrow, Ginny couldn’t contain the bubble of happiness that swelled within her and let out a silent cheer. She was being courted by Harry Potter.
Author Notes:
Much thanks once again to Kokopelli, who unravelled the swing scene for me (among other things), to Art, who helped steer the Gringotts scene, and to Sherry and Ara Kane for another great beta job.