The Bargain
9: What a Witch Wants
By Mr. Intel
August 8
The Lovegoods were an odd sort of family that delighted in the strange, and the abnormal (even for Wizarding standards), and excelled at glorifying the seemingly mundane. So it was with some trepidation that Ron agreed to assist Mr. Lovegood in making repairs to his printing facilities in the village. Although he was a bit put out at the prospect of spending time away from Hermione, she was decidedly upset about it.
"Tell her you’re busy," Hermione pleaded desperately.
Harry watched his friends warily as he polished off his porridge and toast.
"’Her’ who?" Ron asked. "Are you talking about Luna? It was Mr. Lovegood that Flooed Mum this morning, not Luna."
Ginny caught Harry’s eye and tried to communicate something, but Harry couldn’t quite catch on.
Hermione hesitated for only a second before she said, "But she will be there, won’t she? Ron, you can’t go; you — you have to finish your summer homework."
Ron pulled on a thread that hung loosely from his jumper and flicked it onto the floor. "What are you on about? It’s not like they’re diseased or something."
With a scoffing huff, Hermione poked Ron in the chest. "Just watch yourself while you’re there. Don’t let her get you alone and don’t.... Just...be careful."
Ron stared at his girlfriend incredulously. "What’s with you? Normally I look to Luna for disconnected weirdness, but you seem to be channelling her this morning."
Hermione huffed again. "Fine, but don’t say I didn’t warn you." Then she stomped off to Ginny’s room, leaving them all looking after her.
"That was..." Harry began.
"Weird," finished Ginny. "You’d think Hermione’s face had turned green the way she was talking."
"Huh?" asked a very confused Ron.
Ginny rolled her eyes. "Nothing, Ron. Get along. You’re going to be late."
Ron checked the clock on the wall, which read, "You’re already late," and hurried to the kitchen fire. "The Quibbler!" he yelled, and was gone in a flash.
Harry budged over to Ginny and she rested her head on his shoulder. "Hermione’s worried about Luna?"
"Sure seems that way," Ginny answered nonchalantly.
Warning bells started ringing in Harry’s head. "You know something," he said at once.
Ginny blinked her eyes and Harry realised something about her for the first time: she always seemed to blink just before telling a lie. "All I know is that Hermione is jealous of Luna and doesn’t want to compete for Ron’s affections."
"Right," Harry said, polishing off his porridge with one large spoonful. "All I know is you’re a big fibber and had better fess-up to whatever it is that you’ve done before I start tickling you."
Ginny’s head shot off Harry’s shoulder and her eyes became as round as saucers. "You wouldn’t."
Harry placed his spoon primly into his bowl and folded his arms. "Try me."
They stared at each other, Harry trying not to laugh at the fear radiating off her, Ginny a quivering mass of guilt. Finally, she swallowed. "Okay, but you can’t tell Ron, or you’ll be without a bride come the eleventh."
Knowing that he didn’t need to prod her, he simply waited for her to continue. She licked her lips and said, "I may have told Luna...that Ron sort of...fancied her."
Now it was Harry’s turn to bug his eyes out, his glasses slipping down his nose. "You did what? But that isn’t true."
"But I had to," Ginny explained. "If someone didn’t help Ron and Hermione come to grips with their feelings, we would have all gone mad. I knew that all Hermione needed was a little push. Luna’s fancied Ron for ages, so when I let slip that he might fancy her back, Luna started hitting on Ron at your birthday party. That did it. Hermione was beside herself with jealousy. When Ron finally asked her out, she jumped into his arms and kissed his lips off." Ginny had a satisfied grin on her face, and then shook herself into the here and now.
Harry considered this. "Hmm. Okay, so we all owe you for your services; still, don’t you think Luna’s heading for a fall? What if she still thinks that there’s hope for Ron? What if she finds out that he’s an item with Hermione? That’s going to hurt her," Harry said cautiously.
"I — I guess I didn’t really...think about that," Ginny admitted. Then, she quickly added, "She’ll live — nothing seems to faze her."
"I dunno," Harry said, pushing his glasses back to their customary position on the bridge of his nose. "Luna’s tough on the outside, but if she’s really in love with Ron, this might hurt her worse than either of us can see."
Ginny’s lip started to quiver and Harry had an odd craving to kiss it. "Do you think so?" Ginny asked quietly. "Oh, Mercy! What am I going to do? I’ve messed things up, haven’t I?"
Stacking Ginny’s bowl into his, he stood and walked over to the sink. If Luna was in love with Ron, and Ron tactfully let her down.... Who was Harry kidding? Ron had all the tact of a wild boar. Harry rinsed the porridge out of the bowls before it congealed and walked back to the table. "We may have a problem. We’ll sort it out when it comes. We’d better leave or we’ll be late."
*
The walk to the church, where the jumble sale was being held, was quick and Harry and Ginny spent their time discussing solutions to the Luna problem.
"Ron’ll be there all day," Harry was explaining. "So all we have to do is finish up the sale and nip back to the Quibbler. What time did the Johnsons say the sale would finish?"
A breeze whipped around them and Ginny took a deep breath as they walked purposefully along the lane into town. "Around two. It depends on how fast things are sold."
Harry wondered if he could somehow leave the church early, but when they arrived, that idea was quickly quashed. A huge queue of shoppers had already formed in front of the main entrance, and were quickly wrapping around the building.
"But it doesn’t start for another half-hour," Ginny exclaimed, then looked thoughtful. "On the bright side, we may sell out quickly."
Harry nodded and led her to the back entrance, where they were to meet the Johnsons. Mr. Johnson was trying to help the Reverend and another middle-aged man unload a lorry. Harry rushed over to assist them.
"Let me get that, Mr. Johnson," Harry said amicably and grabbed the corner of a large wooden desk.
"Aye, lad," Mr. Johnson relented and shuffled away. "It is a task for younger men."
The Reverend was a kindly man with sandy brown hair and warm grey eyes. He had the slightly soft look of someone that hadn’t done a lot of physical labour in his life and was winded after moving the first piece of furniture. "Thank you, son," he said with a twinkle in his eye. "I had wondered if I’d see you here."
When Harry gave him an inquiring stare, the man took Harry’s hand and said, "Reverend Miles Firth." Harry wondered if he was supposed to know him when Reverend Firth added in a low voice, "I’m also a member of the Muggle Relations Department. From what your mum said, Miss Weasley" he said, nodding to Ginny, "I’ll be the one marrying you in a few days."
"But," Ginny began, clearly curious and then lowered her voice to a whisper, "you’re a wizard."
Reverend Firth simply chuckled. "Would you rather be married by a Muggle minister?" he asked good-naturedly. "I’m not privy to all the details of your arrangement with Mr. Potter, but I believe a wizard has to perform the ceremony to properly lift the hex."
Harry shivered at the thought and wondered why Lupin had never mentioned this particular detail before. "I suppose we don’t have much choice."
Ginny shifted next to him. "Why haven’t we seen you here before?" she asked. "Mum and Dad know all of the magical people in the area."
With a smile, Reverend Firth nodded at a passing volunteer and said, "I’ve been here less than a year. When the previous Reverend passed away, I applied for the job."
Ginny seemed to accept this and smiled at the clergyman. "I guess we’ll be seeing more of you, then."
"That we will. In the meantime, Mr. Potter and I have a lorry to unload."
Ginny stood by as Harry finished removing other bits of furniture and boxes of knick-knacks into the main hall of the church. There was a group of women emptying the boxes and sorting them onto long, folding tables while the men arranged the furniture and appliances. On the far end, near the doors, were two small tables with a till on each one.
Mrs. Johnson spotted Harry and Ginny and called them over. "We’ll put your pretty girlfriend to work at one of the tills," she said to Harry. "And you can help load the larger items onto lorries when they’re purchased."
Ginny gripped Harry’s hand extra hard and sent him a worried glance. Harry knew that she was afraid that she couldn’t work a Muggle till. "Unload them so we can load them back, eh? Sounds good," he agreed and walked towards the entrance with Ginny. "It’ll be all right, Ginny," he reassured her. "Let’s go look at the till and I’ll try to help you run it. They won’t need me to load anything up for a while anyway."
Looking dubiously at the small, white contraption, Ginny gave a shaky nod and sat on the stool in front of the table.
The other till was unoccupied, but Harry was sure Ginny wouldn’t be alone for long.
"Okay," Harry said and ran his eyes over the keys. "It looks pretty straightforward. You punch in the price with the number keys..." He pointed to the ten-key pad that dominated the centre of the till. "And then hit the addition button until you’ve put in all the items they’re buying. The total will display on the top, here."
Ginny was murmuring to herself and pointing to the various buttons as he spoke. "I’m terrible at maths, Harry."
In the face of her insecurity, Harry bit back the snarky comment that appeared in his mind and pulled her into a gentle hug. "You’ll do fine. The first few will be a little odd, but after that, things will be all right."
Ginny clicked the keys to test her knowledge and when the drawer slid open, she gaped at the odd bills and coins. "Harry," she said in a whispered panic. "I can’t make change quickly with Muggle money!"
With a low chuckle, Harry reached in and took out one of each bill. "If you can read numbers, you can make change, Ginny. This one’s a fiver — see the number five on the top? And each denomination has a different colour."
Harry went through each bill until Ginny understood what they meant and then covered the coins — two pound, one pound, fifty pence, and so on. When he looked up from the till, he realised that the crowds had already begun to mill around the chapel and it was almost time for Ginny to make her first sale.
Three young blokes were there first, followed by an elderly woman and what looked to be her daughter. The first man had a single purchase, a hideous-looking lamp that had a snake winding its way around the base. Harry wondered where he might have gotten it but was instantly aware of Ginny making nervous sounds next to him.
"A pound and a half," Ginny read from the tag. She punched in the amount and looked up to the man. He handed her a fiver and she fumbled with the bills for a moment before finally handing back a two-pound coin, a one pound coin, and a fifty pence piece.
The man walked off with a curt nod and Harry kissed Ginny’s crown. "You did just fine, Ginny." The next man put his selections down on the small table and Ginny began to enter the prices. Noticing a group of people in the appliance section, Harry gave Ginny’s shoulders a squeeze. "I’d better get going, Ginny. You’ll be fine."
She was so focused on pushing the right buttons and making change for the set of dominos and paperback books, that she hardly acknowledged what he had said. With a small shake of his head, Harry walked over to the appliances to see if he was needed.
*
The jumble sale went smoothly, and by the time the afternoon was upon them, half the items were cleared off the floor and on the way to their new owners’ houses. Harry stopped occasionally to check on Ginny and was pleased at how quickly she had learned the inner workings of both the till and Muggle money.
Harry pushed the last of the furniture onto a waiting lorry with the help of a large-framed man that could have been Uncle Vernon’s brother had he been a few stone heavier and quite a bit ruder.
"Thanks," said the man as Harry closed the lorry’s back door.
Walking inside, Harry immediately found Ginny arguing with an odd-looking couple over the price of a box of books.
"These aren’t worth more than the listed price," explained the man. He was tall, well-dressed, and sounded extraordinarily familiar to Harry. He had short, slicked-back, black hair, narrow blue eyes, and a tiny bob of a nose.
The woman next to him only came to his shoulder, had her blonde hair coiffed into a bun on the top of her head and seemed unnaturally angry at Ginny. "It’s not your job to question the prices on these...items anyway," she fairly spat out.
Ginny wasn’t intimidated, however. "But you altered the tag! I can’t honour the price for this when the tag has clearly been modified."
"Is there something I can help you with?" Harry said, standing behind Ginny and placing a supportive hand on her shoulder. The people in queue behind the man and woman were looking accusingly between the books and their prospective buyers.
"Harry, these people fixed the tag to read one pound, when it used to say ten."
Harry took the tag and looked at it. There was a smudge to the left of a hastily scratched one and underneath the one, what could have easily been a zero. "This looks dodgy to me," Harry confirmed.
The man caught Harry’s eye and scowled. "Fine," he ground out, clearly reluctant to agree. "Here’s your ruddy money." He flipped a ten pound note at Ginny and took the box from the table. As they left, Harry caught, out of the corner of his eye, a glimmer coming from the man’s face. When he turned to look at him properly, the man was gone.
"Hmm," Harry said suspiciously. "That was odd, wasn’t it?"
Ginny nodded her head and put the note in the till, waving forward the next person. "He was an idiot if you ask me. Trying to rip-off a charity sale. It’s something Malfoy would try."
Harry did a double-take at Ginny’s pronouncement and pulled her around to face him, interrupting the sale. "What did you say?"
"I said," Ginny repeated slowly, "that it’s something Malfoy would do — try to cheat a church out of their money."
Letting go of Ginny’s shoulder so she could go back to the till, Harry stared blankly at the church’s door. "That’s it!" he cried. "It was Malfoy." Ginny looked back to him, waiting for more explanation, but he hesitated. He could hardly talk about glamour spells and wizards who were supposedly imprisoned in Azkaban in front of a queue of Muggles. "I’ll explain later," he finally said and walked back to help a young couple buying a washing machine.
*
Ginny was still rankled by the man who tried to swindle her at the jumble sale. She and Harry were walking towards the Quibbler, holding hands and talking about their experiences that day. It was mid-afternoon and Ginny knew that Harry would be hungry soon.
"About that guy," Harry began as they rounded their final corner and crossed the street.
"The one who pulled a Malfoy?" she asked sarcastically.
"Yeah. What if it was Malfoy?"
Ginny stopped walking and faced Harry fully. "What do you mean? He’s in prison, Harry — there’s no way it could be him."
Taking her cheeks in his hands, Harry took a breath. "But if it is him, we need to be on our guard. There’s no telling what devilry he’s up to — in prison, or not."
Ginny leaned into his hand and sighed. "You’re right. I still think it’s odd that he’d show up at a Muggle sale and try to cheat me out of a few pounds."
"Ginny," Harry said placatingly, "this is Malfoy we’re talking about. He doesn’t know how to be any different. As for being there in the first place...that worries me too. He would only be there to spy on us, and that can’t lead to anything good."
*
It turned out that Ron had already finished helping Mr. Lovegood install new finishing rollers on his main press. After cleaning up, Ron’d talked briefly with Luna and then returned to the Burrow. Ginny took Luna aside for a private conversation, in which Luna shared that she was perfectly happy to see Ron and Hermione together. It baffled Harry to think that Ron could have accomplished such a delicate task, but Ginny confirmed that whatever he’d said had gone a long ways to improving the situation.
Once they were back at the Burrow, Ginny was pounced on by Hermione, Mrs. Weasley and Tonks, and Harry found himself shoved into a chair at the kitchen table.
"Ginny, dear!" Mrs. Weasley called. "We’re so glad you’re home. Let’s get you freshened up so we can all go shopping."
"But..." Ginny protested weakly.
Harry shrugged his shoulders helplessly at her consternation and chuckled as she was shunted off to the loo. He had wanted to take Ginny on a walk around the Burrow tonight....
Sighing, Harry walked upstairs to his bedroom. A loud spate of giggles echoed from the loo as he passed and he found himself wondering just what they were up to. When he entered the room he shared with Ron, his eyes wandered over his trunk and the small lump that protruded from a particularly ugly pair of socks. With Ginny off shopping, Harry would have to reschedule his plans to the following night.
Deciding that he was clean enough to make a few appearances around Wizarding London, Harry scrunched his eyes and gripped his wand. Ginny wasn’t the only one with a shopping list. With a crack, he was gone.
August 9
The next morning, Harry concluded he was living the previous day over again. As soon as they had cleaned up from breakfast, Ginny was herded away from him by her mum, Hermione, Tonks, and, oddly enough, Luna. Harry was torn between letting her have time with her mother and friends and a fierce desire to keep her all to himself.
"I’ll be back before you know it," Ginny soothed, playing with a bit of his hair that was touching the back of his collar.
Harry didn’t answer, but simply turned and took her into his arms and held her for a moment, heedless of the pack of onlookers. As she began to withdraw he planted a kiss on her forehead. "I’ll miss you," he whispered so that only she could hear him.
"Me, too," Ginny answered.
Suddenly remembering what he had planned for that evening, Harry pulled her back. "Will you be back in time for dinner at six o’clock?"
Ginny seemed surprised by this. "Oh. Well, I suppose..." She cast an inquiring glance at her mum, who nodded. "See you at five."
"Bye."
Ginny trailed Hermione into the fireplace, and when the fire died away, Harry had to fight off an empty feeling that gripped his insides. He sat heavily in Arthur’s recliner and stared mournfully at the smiling face on Ginny’s clock hand, pointed at "Shopping".
*
Ginny needed an exhausting day of shopping. The past few days with Harry were exciting, fun, enlightening, and wonderful, but there was a secret something that whispered in the back of her mind — something that told her she needed to be apart from Harry every once in a while if this was going to work.
It was a strange sort of feeling to want to be away from him, and she battled with the notion that they needed to continue building their relationship or their marriage might be doomed. However, shopping let her centre herself in a way that wouldn’t be possible if she were spending every waking moment with Harry. No matter how pleasant those moments might be, there needed to be a balance of time with Harry and time without.
So when five o’clock came, Ginny was both apprehensive and excited to return to the Burrow.
"Off to the Leaky Cauldron we go," Mrs. Weasley had said. "We don’t want Ginny to be late for her engagement."
Ginny scrutinized her mother for that particular choice of words, wondering if she knew something that Ginny didn’t. When Molly didn’t catch her eye or make any other indication that she had said something provocative, Ginny concentrated on walking. She held a large, bulky package — one with a hanger protruding from the top — that had taken her the better part of four hours to choose, and only ten minutes to have it magically altered to fit her body.
Luna and Hermione Flooed ahead of her and as she stepped into the grate, Ginny clung to her parcel, resisting the urge to fold it in half to accommodate travel. "The Burrow!" she yelled.
When she skidded into her kitchen, Harry was at the door, goggling at her package despite Hermione’s best efforts to push him back into the living room.
"You can’t see it, Harry. It’s bad luck!"
Harry’s curiosity was not to be unsatisfied, however. "What is it? What’s taken you all bloody day to buy that I can’t see it?"
Hermione let out a frustrated groan as she whipped out her wand. "Depulso," she muttered and Harry was thrown back into the living room and onto the sofa.
Ginny heard the air leave his lungs in a whoosh as he hit and she had to stifle a giggle.
"Ouch, Hermione," Harry yelled indignantly. "What was that for?"
Hermione was now facing the living room, one hand on her hip, the other pointing her wand at Harry. "It was for your own good. You’ll thank me for it later."
"I’m sorry, Hermione — I’m still not very good at this whole courting custom thing," he said contritely. His voice was so different when he was humbling himself and Ginny found herself strangely fascinated by it. Hermione waved at her to go to her room. She reluctantly bounded up the stairs with her package slung over her shoulder.
"We’re going some place formal tonight — could you make sure she knows that? I’ve — uh — expanded her wardrobe a bit while she was out."
"Fine, fine," Hermione agreed. "Just stay in here until I’ve made sure Ginny’s out of sight."
Freeing herself from her trance, Ginny giggled as she closed the door to her room, her purchase safely stowed away. The next time she would take it out of its bag would be her wedding day.
After a quick shower, Ginny opened her wardrobe to reveal a complete set of new clothes. Someone had been busy while she’d been gone. There were several sets of casual dresses, formal dress robes, new jeans, shirts, jumpers, and an entire stack of shoes. A mixture of panic (what if Harry got the sizes wrong?), anger (how dare he presume to know what clothes I like to wear?), and lastly, an odd contentment (he must really care about me to spend this much time and money) overcame her as she fingered the line of clothes.
Picking one of the formal dresses from the closet, not knowing if they were going someplace magical or Muggle, Ginny slipped into it and began to search for a matching set of shoes.
A knock sounded at the door and Hermione’s head peeked in. "About ready?"
"Just about," Ginny replied. "I’ve got to do my hair and put on some makeup."
Hermione walked in and pushed the door closed. "Harry’s on pins and needles downstairs," she informed Ginny as she walked over to the vanity and began to arrange the makeup.
"Oh?" Ginny asked. She found a set of heels that were surprisingly comfortable and reasoned that they were likely charmed to be that way.
"Yeah." Hermione was staring oddly at her friend. "I wonder why he would be so nervous?"
Ginny huffed and began to brush her hair. "He probably thinks I’ll hex him if he doesn’t propose tonight," she began. "Which isn’t far from the truth. I’ve been lenient so far, but the boy just needs to get on with things." Ginny screwed up her face and began a complicated twisting motion with her hair. Soon, it was pinned into an elaborate bun on the top of her head.
Hermione smiled in a way that suggested she knew something that Ginny did not. "And I’m sure he’s aware of that fact. Just make sure you’re as patient as you are anxious. I wouldn’t want you to hex him right before he gives you a ring."
Ginny was much too nervous to put on her own makeup and motioned for Hermione to help her. "Could you?" Ginny asked, waving at her face.
Hermione nodded and proceeded to apply foundation, mascara, blush, and lip gloss to Ginny’s face, rendering them both unable to speak.
With the makeup applied, Ginny gave a wry smile and clasped a set of fake pearls around her neck. "Thanks, Hermione. We’ll just have to wait to see if Harry’s as aware as you think. Right now, I’ve got a date." She turned to face her friend and clipped a matching set of earrings on her lobes. "How do I look?"
Hermione stepped back and let her eyes roam around Ginny’s face and body. "Beautiful. If for some stupid reason Harry doesn’t propose to you tonight, I’ll hex him. I’ve got some good ones that I’ve been waiting to try out, you know," she said somewhat seriously.
Ginny’s grin faded as she held her gaze for a moment and then wrapped her arms around her friend. "Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you for just being here."
They pulled apart and Hermione smiled. "I couldn’t let you suffer through this all by yourself. It’s bad enough that you’re being forced into it, but to have to endure it with Harry of all people..."
A moment of silence followed and then they both giggled. "He is thick, but you know what, Hermione? He’s perfect and I can’t think of anyone else I’d rather be doing this with."
Hermione’s smile grew and something glistened in her eyes. "You better get going. It’s almost six."
Ginny nodded. "Right. See you later."
With that, Ginny grabbed her pocketbook and ran down the stairs.
Harry was waiting for her at the bottom. She could tell he had been pacing, but the look on his face transformed when he saw her. Whatever scolding she had been about to receive was gone and not for the first time in her life, she was glad to be a girl. She twirled, swishing the hem of her dress. "Like what you see?" she asked tentatively.
"Yeah, I like it all right," Harry said as he approached her. "I’d say you look like a million Galleons." He took her arm gently in his.
"You look quite handsome yourself, Mr. Potter." His bottle-green dress robes from fourth year, which she’d been quite taken by at the time of the Yule Ball, were now entirely too small for him, but Ginny was delighted to see him in something very similar. The major difference, however, was not the clothes, but the man that now filled them.
"Shall we?" he asked politely. She nodded and he clasped his other hand over hers. He took in a breath and concentrated. In that brief second before the world dissolved away, Ginny caught a glimpse of the boy that she fell in love with, and realised that she was no longer in love with that boy. Now, she loved the man that the boy had grown into.
*
Harry Apparated them into an alcove off the main entrance of an elaborately decorated building. Dozens of witches and wizards were milling about the foyer, all dressed in immaculate robes and expensive-looking dresses. Beyond the entrance, Ginny saw lavishly-set tables and crisply-dressed waiters weaving between them. She didn’t think she belonged in such expensive surroundings.
Harry seemed to sense her hesitance as they walked towards the maitre d'. "Are you all right?" he asked.
No one seemed to have noticed them, and as Ginny realised this, she forced her nervousness aside. "I’m fine. I just didn’t expect you to take me to such a high-class place."
"Oh," Harry said quickly. "I hope this isn’t a problem. There’s normally a very long waiting list to come here, but the owner was very understanding of our...um, situation."
Ginny smiled reassuringly, but felt the butterflies start to dance in her stomach once again. "No, it’s not a problem. It was just a surprise, that’s all."
The concern melted from Harry’s face and he led her to where a man was checking off names from a list and issuing orders to the waiters with crisp commands. A wizard to their left appraised Ginny and with a baleful look sneered at her over his nose.
"Reservation for Potter at six o’clock," Harry said to the maitre d'.
The man’s eyebrows rose for a split-second and his eyes flicked to Harry’s brow before he consulted the list. "Ah, yes. Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley. I have your table ready, now."
He snapped his fingers and a slim man with a bottle-brush moustache appeared behind him. "Show Mr. Potter to table twelve."
Ginny could feel the weight of several pairs of eyes on her back as she clung to Harry’s arm and followed their waiter through the crowded restaurant.
Harry held out Ginny’s chair as she sat and waited for her to get comfortable before taking his own seat. Despite the feelings of doubt and wonder that swirled around her, she could sense Harry’s own disquiet and wondered if he was just as befuddled by the opulence that surrounded them.
Dinner was wonderful. They ended up ordering separate meals that they both liked and shared them with each other. Conversation ranged from Quidditch to Gringotts and from Ginny’s new clothes to Harry’s hair.
After they polished off their dessert, Harry nodded his head at their waiter as he passed.
"What was that?" Ginny asked, pointing to the man who was now serving dinner to the table beside them.
"What was what?"
"You nodded at our waiter. What was that for?"
Harry hesitated for a split-second and then said, "Nothing. Just letting him know we’re all right."
Ginny didn’t buy it and, as she daubed her mouth, couldn’t help but be suspicious. As the dessert faded from their plates, Harry became increasingly agitated. He was shifting in his seat as if there was something poking his backside. Soon, Ginny’s suspicions were confirmed as a man stood in the middle of the room.
"Ladies and gentlemen. Can I have your attention for just a moment?" His voice was carried magically through the room, but the light made it impossible for Ginny to tell who it was. The chatter and clinking in the restaurant died down as everyone looked towards the man. "There’s a very special couple here tonight and I wanted to give them the opportunity to make an announcement."
The man sat down and Ginny thought she caught a glimpse of long white hair before he disappeared from her view. At that moment, Harry stood and nervously patted around in his pocket.
"Thank you, Professor. M-My name is Harry Potter and tonight, I’d like to let you know that I have the privilege of accompanying Miss Ginny Weasley to this fine establishment."
As Harry stood there, Ginny suddenly felt her stomach drop to her toes. He was going to propose to her — in front of hundreds of strangers. A bead of sweat appeared on his face as he continued to speak, but the words became a blur. He glanced around and shoved his hand into his pocket.
"As you all know, Ginny and I have been promised to wed under an ancient law. Tonight..." Harry hesitated, a look of panic washing over his face as he looked down at Ginny. The nervousness left his eyes and was replaced with a firm resolve. He muttered something under his breath and took his hand out of his pocket. "Tonight, I wanted to tell you all... actually, I want to tell you, Ginny, that I love you."
He stood frozen for a moment and then sat down to a surge of applause from the crowd. As the noise gradually ebbed back to its previous level, Ginny became aware of two things. Harry loved her. He’d said it in public with a conviction that he hadn’t had previously; and yet, he hadn’t proposed; there was no ring on her finger. The moment was lost.
Soon, a pile of Galleons was left on the table and Harry guided her back to the alcove. Ginny looked up and saw Hermione and Ron at one of the tables — Hermione looking at her with the saddest expression she had ever seen. Bill and Fleur were seated next to them, and everywhere she looked, she realised that the restaurant was filled with her family. They passed her parents and her dad mouthed the words I love you before she was whisked away again. All the while, Ginny could only feel the nakedness of her finger and the aching in her heart.
There was a flash of light as a photographer spotted them through a window and Harry moved to shield her. Then, without warning, Harry Apparated them away.
*
Harry was a wreck. He Apparated them to the first place that popped into his mind — Stoatshead Hill — and wondered how long he had left to live. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to propose to Ginny...but when he actually got up to do it, and looked into her eyes, he knew that his choice of proposal wasn’t right. Ginny deserved to be asked in private, because he knew that once they were married, her new last name would destroy all the privacy she had ever known.
They stood together on top of the hill, looking out towards the village. It was dark now, and the streetlamps, headlights, and windows were winking up at them merrily, exactly the opposite of how Harry felt. He had seen the disappointment on Ginny’s face when he sat down at the restaurant, and knew that he only had the slimmest, faintest chance of making it up to her.
"Harry?" Ginny asked quietly beside him.
He refused to look at her just yet, as seeing her sad face might be his undoing. "Yes?"
"Did you mean what you said tonight? That you loved me?"
Swallowing down the lump in his throat, Harry nodded. "Yes."
There was a pause and a slight breeze blew around them. Unable to take it any more, Harry turned to look at her. Wet tracks trailed along her cheeks and Harry’s heart broke.
"Then why didn’t you..." Ginny’s voice failed her, but she remained strong.
"What?" Harry asked, knowing full well what she meant.
"Nothing," Ginny said and turned away from him. She rubbed her bare arms as the wind continued to blow in from the south.
Harry moved over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders. "Ginny, I..." he began, but his voice died in his throat. He wanted to tell her so badly that he loved her and that he was sorry, but it sounded so forced in his mind that he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.
"No, it’s all right, Harry." Her words were hollow and the sound of them wounded him even more. "I...understand."
A piece of Ginny’s hair came loose and blew onto his face. Her smell enveloped him and Harry realised that he was at a crossroads: either he had to embrace what they had together, or throw it all away. "Ginny," he began again, this time with force. "I’m sorry for what happened at the restaurant. I..."
She turned to face him and the open, vulnerable expression there only served to reinforce the power he held over her. "I love you, and...I’m a horrible person. Still, I can’t help but be who I am. I had every intention of proposing to you tonight, but...something stopped me." He took her arms with his hands and gently squeezed. "I need you, Ginny. I need you more than I ever thought possible and I don’t ever want to let you go. When you left to go shopping last night and then again today, I felt - I felt like I was missing something, like part of me was gone."
Ginny nodded her head and whispered, "I know. Me, too."
"Your family means the world to me, too. I knew I had to involve them in the proposal, so I set up this whole evening. The restaurant, the announcement...even having Professor Dumbledore give me a lead-in," Harry finished with a slight smile.
Harry sighed. Ginny continued to stare at him, a myriad of unspoken feelings playing across her face. "But when it came time to do it, I...just felt like you needed to have this one thing be private — special; just between you and me."
The wind stopped and the moon appeared from behind a stray cloud. Harry released her arms and took a half-step back. He took a velvet-covered box from his pocket and lowered one knee onto the ground. The box lid snapped open and he presented it to her.
"Ginny Weasley, you’ve been my friend for only a short while, but you’ve always been there for me. We’ve only have a few days to sort out our feelings, and I haven’t made the best choices, but I know that I can’t live without you anymore." Harry’s knee was starting to hurt as it was pressing onto a pebble and his palms were sweating. What if she said no? "Ginny, you aren’t just a girl I have to marry. You are everything I want and I don’t want to ever let you go. "
The breeze blew again. "Marry me?" he asked, his heart in his throat.
From his position, kneeling in front of her, Harry could see the moonlight reflection off her face . The inky-black sky behind her was awash in tiny pinpricks of light that seemed to undulate as they twinkled. Yet in spite of all the beauty around them, Harry was only truly aware of Ginny.
Ginny knelt down in front of Harry and took the box from his hand. She closed it and placed it on the short grass in front of them. Her hands took Harry’s and she smiled. "Harry. I’ve waited so long to hear you say those words. I’ve had dreams upon dreams of this moment and I can honestly say that they were nothing compared to the real thing. I love you, Harry. I always will, and it would give me the greatest pleasure to be your wife."
There was a moment of confusion when Ginny placed the box on the ground and Harry was sure that his chance with her had been lost. But when she took his hands and looked into his eyes, his heart thudded with a renewed hope, for her love for him was plain to see. "Really?" he exclaimed. "You will?"
A large grin split her face and she pushed him backwards onto the grass. "Of course, you great, stupid, prat! I told you I loved you! How could I not want to be your wife?"
Ginny plopped down beside him, playing with the box, opening and closing it. He grabbed her hand, and a moment later a ring was on the appropriate finger, leaving the box on the ground again. His hand traced along her jaw line and he felt happier than he could ever imagine. "I love you, Ginny," he repeated, before capturing her mouth with his. It was a long time before they Apparated home.
Author Notes:
This chapter, along with the wedding scene, has been in the works for a long time. It's good to finally get it written out and posted. I nervously await your reaction to this very carefully written section of my story. I would be remiss to not mention the dutiful efforts of my pre-betas Kokopelli and AMulder. Also, a very large thank you to Sherry.