Prologue Summer after Ginny's seventh year

It was a Saturday afternoon and the Weasleys were scattered around the garden of the Burrow enjoying the warm summer weather. Ginny Weasley lounged on the garden swing, her blue jeans rolled up to the knee, her mind idly thinking of how lazy she'd become in the past month. The prospect of not having to go back to school in September—or forever—was something that felt very lovely some days… mostly the days when she remembered homework and exams and the horror of her N.E.W.Ts, anyway. Kicking her bare foot on ground, she sent the swing in motion and rested her head back on the pillow she'd Summoned from her bedroom a little while ago.

The swing was sitting on the thick lawn, and in the shade of a very tall, very green tree. The tree was slightly apart from the actual garden and, therefore, slightly apart from the actual people, but Ginny didn't mind it at the moment. Though she usually loved being in the middle of the action, there were times like now when she enjoyed her solitude. She supposed that was a result from being in such a large family, not to mention the fact that virtually the entire family consisted of loud and obnoxious brothers.

Her eyes fell on the loudest and most obnoxious in the whole lot, both of whom were sitting at the picnic table, directly across from one another, with a huge bowl of fruit. Their wands were out and every so often, Fred would examine a piece of fruit very closely and mutter something to George who nodded knowingly. Ginny rolled her eyes, thinking it wouldn't be long before something inhumane happened to the unsuspecting fruit.

Mum was probably thinking the same thing, she noted, as her mother's eyes narrowed when they landed on the twins. They didn't stay narrowed for long, however, when they took note of Dad who was currently standing puzzled in front of a Muggle barbecue, banging his wand against the grate and shouting some complicated curse. At this, Mum's eyes flashed as she fingered her own wand nervously, no doubt expecting a fire to break out. Between her twin sons and her husband, Mum's suspicions were probably right on the mark; there would most certainly be a fire today. The only question was: who would start it?

Fred and George were the obvious candidates, but Ginny wasn't too eager to suspect them—they, at least, had taken to only blowing things up in their lab at the shop. Yes, she'd place her Sickles on Dad. It was long overdue; he hadn't started a fire in ages—well strike that, the new car he'd been tinkering with hadn't done too well. The leftover parts were still burnt to a crisp in the shed.

And so was the everyday thrill of being a Weasley, she thought wryly.

"Ouch! Molly, look, I've burned myself on the barbelcue."

As if to refute her thought, Dad held out his hand and grinned excitedly at Mum, then rushed over to show Ron and Hermione, who were sitting under the willow together. Hermione grinned and said something that sounded like, "That's a bad burn, Mr. Weasley," which was exactly the thing to make him puff up with pride. Ginny thought her father was the only person in the world who would be excited about burning their hand just because it happened the Muggle way. She was quite certain (and rather proud) that there would never be another.

Rolling her eyes yet again, Ginny turned back to Fred and George and grinned as a green apple suddenly bounced into the air, sprouted white fur and rabbit ears, and began hopping all around the table.

Ginny laughed…and one other person in the yard did the same. Her smiled became fixed and she snapped her eyes away from the fruit, turning her head to gaze back at the house. She refused to look at the source of the laugh; she'd been successfully not watching him today, using no tricks like putting herself in a different room or doing some sort of task. It worked because she'd be damned if she didn't have at least some control over the situation. Besides, she knew what she would find if she did look his way and she wasn't in the mood for self-pity or self-torture or any sort of ill-treatment of herself. Save it for another day.

There was a burst of laughter coming from Harry's corner as though his own laugh had caused Ron, Hermione, and the other one to look over at Fred and George, and the loudest and happiest of all the laughs made Ginny's back go up. She felt an inch of her temper flaring and she drummed her fingers on her knee. Then, with perfectly calmness, as though she wasn't about to retch, she reached down for the magazine that she had finished ten minutes ago and opened it. A pretty witch holding up a new brand of Mrs. Scower's Magical Mess Remover smiled an unnaturally large smile as she demonstrated how to use the product. Ginny wrinkled her nose, thinking – as she had the first time she'd seen the add—what a likeness that large, overly happy smile was to hers.

She felt the pull on her eyes to look at her and compare the two smiles – she would obviously be smiling now, it would be rather easy. But Ginny didn't. Keeping her eyes quite level with her magazine, she flipped the page idly.

Her name was Rebecca Stephens and she had every reason in the world to smile. She was a pretty witch, and Ginny knew that was petty reason to add to her long list of grievances about the girl, but …well, suffice it to say, Rebecca's face was freckle-free. She had dark hair and light eyes that crinkled in the corners when she smiled. Her cheeks were rosy and her mouth was always curved in a grin. She laughed a lot, something that Ginny was pained to admit had a brilliant effect on Harry.

She wasn't dazzling, Ginny thought to herself, chewing on her bottom lip too hard and wincing before letting go. No, she wasn't dazzling at all. She even had a funny nose if you wanted to nitpick and Ginny had. Oh, yes, she'd looked at her plenty of times. Indeed, she could probably devote the rest of her life to thinking up new ways to watch them inconspicuously.

Those were the times when Ginny truly questioned her sanity—was it that she liked to torture herself? It was an active choice to watch them together, she could control the urge, she could simply distract herself by finding a new hobby or a new boyfriend. But no. She wasn't going to do that anymore. She was through with pretenses—at least, the pretenses she had with herself.

And so, her eyes constantly followed them and watched them and memorized them; she went over every detail about them inside her head and her ears opened whenever Ron mentioned them. Ginny didn't understand why she needed to know everything about them—the more Ginny saw of how truly happy Harry was with Rebecca, the more Ginny hurt—but she craved them nonetheless.

But she would not go there today. Today was not supposed to include Ginny Weasley's Pity Session Because Harry Potter Doesn't Like Her. There was plenty of that to go around on other days.

She turned her wrist to look at her watch, noting that her best friend, Sarah Murphy would be five minutes late in only one minute. Sarah had been her savior through all of this; every time Harry Aparated into the Burrow with Rebecca by his side, almost automatically, (and trying not to make silent retching motions behind their backs) Ginny headed for the fireplace to floo to Sarah's house (where she could comfortably make loud retching noises while telling Sarah why she'd come).

Against her better judgment, Ginny flicked a glance to Harry and she found, as always, that looking at him was usually more brilliant than painful. He wasn't doing anything special—just sitting with Rebecca and listening to Ron. She took in his appearance like she always did, felt her heart pound and her body react. It seemed as though the physical attraction got stronger every day that passed; every week, every month and every year he looked older, more mature, more handsome, more like a man. She curled her toes into the cushions of the swing, hating the sharp stab of need that pulsated through her.

The air surrounding her was suddenly thick with the sexual tension that she was creating all by herself and Ginny dragged her eyes from him, occurring to her now, as it so often did, how dangerous her feelings for Harry were. She was quite sure that her eyes often devoured him with an intensity that anyone would recognize should they so happen to look over. Sometimes it felt as though she wore her heart right on her sleeve for everyone to see—including him. And then other times, when she actually spoke to him, she could swear he was more dense than he'd ever been.

Ginny gave a dry laugh. He would always leave her guessing, wouldn't he?

Furious with herself, Ginny kicked her foot at the ground again, sending the swing in a rapid motion and thought that she might Summon from her bedroom a Muggle novel Dad had bought her. But that wouldn't be a distraction, not when she was sitting in the same vicinity as him. She could go inside—her room desperately needed a cleaning. But at that thought, she felt a flash of temper again. She didn't want to leave the yard, her entire family was out here and dinner would be ready soon and Fred and George were probably going to turn the entire bowl of fruit into some sort of puppet show and she'd be bloody damned if she'd miss it.

She was sick of missing things because of him.

Her last year at Hogwarts came into her mind then and as the bitterness crept up inside her, Ginny tried not to think about what a horrible year that had been for her. She'd hated leaving her family behind after the war had ended and knowing that Harry was back here — with her. She hadn't been prepared for the blow to her heart when she'd picked up some celebrity magazine to a photo of Harry on the cover walking in London and looking absolutely relaxed…with Rebecca. It had seemed suddenly that Harry was everywhere—in the newspapers, in conversations she overheard about the war, in the letters her family wrote to her, in the letters he wrote to her—some of the most indifferent letters she'd ever received in her entire life. Ginny had felt like she was relentlessly being reminded that she wasn't a part of his life… at least, not an important one.

She'd always been so careful not to burden him with her feelings, but really, what had that done in the end? Nothing. She was still sitting apart from him, only now there was somebody else at his side.

She should have told him. She shouldn't have let it go during the war when Harry had actually thought of her as a friend. She should have been forward with him and told him that she would still be there for him if he didn't feel the same way. Perhaps it would have caused him to open his eyes a bit towards her… perhaps he may have even begun to feel… something….

Perhaps it had been a mistake, keeping her feelings to herself, but her only blind concern at that time had been for Harry, of making sure that he was okay and that he didn't have anything else to worry over. Ginny had always thought that she was doing something right by not troubling him with her feelings, but now she felt the regret like a blow to her heart. She shouldn't have been so presumptuous to think that there would be time for them after everything was over. She should never have been so hopeful to think that she could help him find his peace when times weren't so dark for him.

It just hadn't occurred to her that he would find it with someone else

Harry was laughing. When Ginny looked at him, she felt a resentment of such magnitude that she tore her eyes away and stood for the house. Admitting that she'd lost yet another battle where he was concerned, Ginny stepped into the kitchen and walked towards the sink. Perhaps cleaning the pile of dishes would help her to lose the image of Harry laughing out there …with her.

Stupid, smiling, laughing, happy her.

Ginny gave a weary laugh that had no traces of humor in it whatsoever. She was just so tired of feeling like this. It made her feel, above all, pathetic and she was so ashamed of herself that she could hardly breathe sometimes.

The sound of the kitchen door opening, and then slamming nearly had Ginny jumping out of her skin. She hastily picked up her wand and focused on washing the dishes and keeping her face void of any expression as Fred and George piled into the kitchen.

"I'm bloody starving already, d'you think he'll ever get it to work?" George demanded of Fred, who was carrying the bowl of charmed fruit all of which were desperately trying to jump out of the bowl.

"Why did Mum let him use it the first place? She knows he tampered with it."

"What's the matter?" George asked and Ginny realized after a moment's silence that he was speaking to her. She barely had time to respond when Fred grabbed her from behind and held her in a headlock.

"What's wrong with our ickle Ginny? Sad you can't see your little friends at school anymore?"

Ginny ducked out of his grasp with practiced ease and tried to shove him away. If he hadn't been so much bigger than she was, she might have succeeded. "You know, I thought getting older would tame you two, but I suppose it only makes you more annoying."

Fred looked outraged. "Ginevra Weasley, I am irate that you would even dare--"

"Awe, leave her alone, Fred," George said in a serious tone that had Ginny rolling her eyes. "She's in an awful state, our Ginny. She's lost Harry to Rebecca and now her life is worthless."

Ginny's hands froze. It was the very last thing she needed just then and she opened her mouth to tell them both to sod off, but Fred spoke loudly.

"It is so very tragic. Don't look now, Ginny, Harry's just kissed her!"

"Don't Fred, you'll make her cry! Besides you're way prettier than she is, don't worry, Gin."

To her absolute horror, Ginny's eyes filled with tears. It took her by surprise and it happened so suddenly that she didn't have time to blink them away. Fred glanced at her and when he saw her face, his grin rapidly disappeared. "Ginny."

George looked over and his eyes widened, but Ginny shook her head and held up a hand. She couldn't even get angry with them.

"Leave me alone," she muttered and left the kitchen.

Ginny closed the door to her bedroom and stood in front of her chest of drawers, looking up to find her own reflection in the mirror. Pulling her wavy mass of hair behind her shoulders, Ginny leaned close to the mirror and stared very intently at her face. After a minute, she let out a long, steadying breath and began to nod. She was going to be okay.…

Whatever Harry saw or failed to see, she knew she was still herself.

From her window, she heard a loud booming noise followed by bursts of laughter and she peered out to see what the commotion was. Her father had his wand out and was putting out the fire, which had started on top of the grill. Mum had her own wand pointed at Dad and must have been threatening to curse him as everyone laughed and watched the scene from a distance. Ginny's lips quirked—but then her smile faded very quickly when he saw Harry, in the middle of everything.

This is wrong, she thought, staring at him and automatically feeling the pull—the same physical, emotional yank on her body and her heart. It was traitorous and it was cruel that she could still feel such a strong pull towards him when he was so blind towards, and so unconcerned about her.

On a sudden thought, Ginny turned away from the window and practically dashed over to her trunk across the tiny bedroom. She rummaged through her old schoolbooks, stacks of parchment, dried up quills and empty inkbottles until she found what she was looking for. Clutching it in her hands, she climbed onto her bed.

It was a catalog, one she'd picked up from Hogwarts library, upon one of her professor's suggestion. Its contents were of a school in Paris, L'Academie d'Aubervive, which taught a subject matter that had always intrigued her: the languages of the wizarding world. Ginny flipped through the pages quickly, finding the one she wanted. It contained a photograph of the school itself. Situated in the middle of magical Paris, it was breathtaking—a large chateau made of pale gray stone with blue roofs and arched windows. Students dressed in rather stylish looking robes mingled and laughed while they walked to and from the school, sat beside a massive fountain, spread out across the vast lawns and gardens. The place itself was captivating and as she had when she'd first seen the catalog back at Hogwarts, Ginny saw herself in the middle of it all—laughing with the people, sitting round that glorious fountain, focusing on learning something that she took an interest in.

And she would be far away from Harry.

Just then, there was a small knock on her bedroom door and Sarah Murphy peeked inside.

"There you are. Your family's wondering where you've got to," she said, stepping inside the room and closing the door. "Your dad's set the grill on fire and your mum is cooking in the kitchen now. She looks like she's ready to start hexing him—what's wrong?"

Ginny reached out and handed Sarah the catalog.

Sarah sat down on the bed. "The school in Paris? I thought you'd decided—"

"Do you know why I decided not to go?" Ginny asked, looking her friend in the eye.

Sarah bit her lip and considered Ginny. "I have a pretty good idea."

"Because I didn't want to leave Harry. He's with someone else, and I wanted to stay here in case he breaks up with her. It's a five-year program—and I can't imagine being away from him for so long. Do you realize how pathetic that sounds, Sarah?"

Sarah blew out a breath and tucked her shoulder length brown hair behind her ears. "Not pathetic…exactly …"

Ginny shook her head and pushed off from the bed restlessly to stand by the window. She watched as everyone walked towards the kitchen door, as Harry tugged Rebecca's hand playfully. "I have to get away from him, Sarah," she said softly.

"Ginny," Sarah began hesitantly. "I think it's so cool that you want to do this. I really do. But don't do it just to get away from Harry. You need to get over him."

"Sarah," Ginny said forcibly, turning to look at her. "I can't get over him when I'm around him so much. I've been trying to do it for years."

"Ginny, don't you realize that he'll never truly be out of your life? I mean… he and Ron won't stop being friends. He's practically a member of your family—"

"Yes, I know. And everyone has a fantastic part in his life. Except me," she snapped angrily, her eyes hard when they landed on him, just before he disappeared out of view. "I've barely spoken to him all summer, Sarah. We're not even friends anymore, it's a bloody farce! There is nothing more between us now—I'm his best friend's sister and that's all I am. And I cannot keep pretending that it's going to change! I'm ruining my own life, stopping everything, for him. It has to end."

Sarah heaved a sigh. "Ginny, I can't imagine what it's like for you. But you can't run away from him. Sooner or later you're going to have to face it."

Ginny's voice was hard as she stared blindly beyond the garden, towards the clearing, where they had all played Quidditch hundreds of times together. "Being away from him will help me get over him."

"You were away from him last year at Hogwarts," Sarah said tentatively, and Ginny shook her head impatiently.

"Hogwarts was different. A part of me thought that Rebecca was just a stupid fling that he would get over while I was there. But we all know that if it was a fling it would have ended by now. Besides, Harry and I kept in touch while I was there. I was asking him how he was dealing with the war being over and he was telling me about the weather. It was only a reminder that I was nothing important to him—" she broke off as her voice broke and turned to look in the mirror. Her face was pale and tears were welling in her eyes and she hated the way it made her feel. "I have to cut all ties with him. I can't see him or be around him or speak to him or write to him. I have to forget about him."

Sarah took a deep breath, obviously contemplating whether ot not to keep on with her argument. "It just seems… it seems wrong somehow," she said finaly, locking eyes with Ginny.

Ginny felt panic rise in her throat and she grabbed Sarah's hands. "Please don't tell me it's the wrong thing to do, Sarah," she whispered, staring into her friend's wide blue-gray eyes. "Please… I can't stay here watching him, I feel like I'm about to – to lose myself, I can't explain it— "

"Ginny, of course, you have my blessing," Sarah interrupted firmly. "I just… I just don't want to see you hurt later."

Ginny closed her eyes and nodded. "As long as your not… you know, angry at me, or anything."

"Of course, I'm not angry… I'm mad with jealousy, though."

"Sarah, why don't you come with?" Ginny asked, her eyes lighting up at the thought. "The school looks absolutely amazing and we would have the time of our lives together!"

But Sarah shook her head and said, "Sorry, it's just that… after Hogwarts, I don't want to be away from home anymore." She broke off and her eyes filled with tears. "But I'll miss you something terrible, Ginny."

"Oh, Sarah," Ginny said, throwing her arms around her. "We'll keep in touch all the time! Twice a week."

"Three times a week."

"And you can come to visit me! Oh, Sarah, we'll have such a wonderful time! Imagine—you and I in Paris!"

They both laughed and spent the rest of the afternoon in Ginny's bedroom talking about Paris, about when Sarah would find time to visit and how horrid it would be to Aparate there.

Since the war, the long distance Aparition laws had been modified; it was illegal to simply Aparate to different countries, and the legal process was very long and drawn out. Ginny would have to Aparate first to the new England Aparition Station to fill out several forms of paperwork, pay a great deal of gold, and be inspected by a line of Aurors. This process was once rumored to take fifty-seven to sixty hours, but that had been when the war had first ended and the Ministry had not employed the Aparition Stations accordingly. New reports said that the average time spent was currently only thirty-four and a half hours. The next step would be to Aparate to the France International Magical Aparition Station where Ginny would fill out more paperwork, pay more gold and be inspected by another group of Aurors. The length of this process was unknown since the Daily Prophet did not cover other countries' systems, although it was rumored that the Spain Apparition Station was so sparse in employment that the current wait time for travelers was over five days.

A short while after Sarah left claiming starvation because Ginny refused to go down to dinner with the entire family, and when Ginny knew that Harry was no longer there, Ginny went into the kitchen and fixed herself some dinner. She thought with a humorless laugh that it was a good idea to get away if only for her health as she'd missed so many lunches and dinners since she'd been home to avoid seeing Harry with … her.

Stupid, smiling, laughing, happy, pug-nosed….

Ginny bit her lip on a smile as she piled her plate high with food, insulting Rebecca in her mind, knowing it was childish and not caring.

She flipped through the catalog of L'Acadèmie d'Aubervive while she ate and her excitement began to build. She was grateful that her wonderful saving habits over the years gave her a nice chunk of gold stashed in the bottom drawer of her chest. Her savings would come in handy for traveling; however, she would probably need to get a job in Paris to continue to pay for school and be able to actually eat. But Ginny didn't care if she had to live off of bread and water or even sleep in some tiny dormitory—every time she looked at the photographs in the book, she was filled with anticipation to just be there.

A short time later, while the breeze through the open windows became cooler and the sky turned dark, Ginny sat at the table, thoroughly engrossed in reading her catalog. Everyone had either gone to bed or left and she enjoyed the quiet peace of the house without any activity. And then the back door opened.

She didn't need to look up to know it was Harry.

"Hey, Ginny," he said, noting her in surprise.

Ginny managed a smile. "Hey."

"Where have you been all day?" he asked, stepping into the room. "I didn't see you at dinner, did I?"

"Erm… no, I wasn't hungry," she said, feeling the resentment build up at his casual interest. Suppose she told him she'd been crying in her room because she was in love with him—that'd certainly wipe the carefree smile off his face.

"I feel like I haven't seen you all summer. What have you been up to?" Harry asked, pulling out a chair and sitting down across from her.

Ginny shook her head. "Nothing much…. I thought you'd left, were you outside?"

"No. I Aparated Rebecca home, but I'm staying here tonight," said Harry, grabbing an apple from the bowl in the center of the table. He nodded towards her catalog. "What's that?"

"Hmm? Oh…" she closed the booklet and flipped it over, finally sliding it to him. She watched as he picked it up and read the title, as his eyes skimmed down to the picture of the school. He looked up at her in surprise.

"You're thinking about going here?"

Her throat went dry and she nodded, unable to speak. Without a word, Harry flipped through the booklet, taking in the pictures and reading some of the captions. Ginny watched him intently for some sign of sadness over the possibility of her leaving.

"I am going there," she blurted. "I decided today actually."

"Wow, that's—that's so cool! Does that mean you'll be able to speak Troll?" he asked with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

"Among other things," she said, smiling in spite of herself.

"Gobbledygook," he said with a lopsided grin.

Ginny grinned back, but wanted to weep. "Mermish."

Harry pointed his finger at her and tried to look stern despite his huge smile. "If you ever speak Mermish to me, I'll have to throw something at you."

Ginny laughed—she couldn't help it. And she was overcome with a powerful ache behind her chest. How could she leave him…?

"How long will you be there?" Harry was asking, still flipping through.

She swallowed and watched his face, his eyes closely. "It's a five year program."

Harry looked up at her. "You're kidding! Wow…."

Ask me not go, she begged silently.

"Five years is a bloody long time, isn't it? Who will keep Fred and George in line while you're gone?"

"You will all just have to suffer through for five long years… or at least until Christmas. And anyway, you lot will forget all about me, anyway."

Harry gave her a scolding look. "Right, it's you who'll be forgetting everything. By the time you come home for Christmas, we won't even recognize you — you'll look like you came from Beauxbatons or something."

Ginny reached for her wand. "Take that back before you're sorry."

Harry grinned and opened his mouth to say something else when Ron entered the room.

"So you're back," he said sarcastically to Harry, quirking a brow. "Tuck Rebecca into bed all right?"

"Shut up," Harry retorted and threw his apple core at Ron. But the wide grin on Ron's face and Harry's smirk made Ginny so nauseous that she stood and bade them goodnight.

Although she wasn't the least bit tired, Ginny changed mechanically into her nightdress and climbed into bed, Ron's words to Harry echoing in her head. It was all she could handle before a feeling of anguish rose in her chest and her eyes filled with tears. She felt like the sobs had been trapped inside her all day and now she couldn't help but let them all out. Turning, Ginny cried helplessly into her pillow… and longed for the day when she would be far away from Harry….

Chapter One

Date: 2016-01-03; view: 845