The Longest Day

Hermione looked up when the sound of Harry’s pen scratching across the parchment stopped. He was staring at nothing, looking vaguely sad. “Harry? What’s wrong?”

“Oh…nothing,” Harry answered, signing his letter to Professor McGonagall and passing it to Hermione, who had an addressed envelope waiting. “I was just thinking about Regulus Black.”

Hermione nodded. Harry had given her a brief version of his conversation with Dumbledore’s portrait. “What about him? Whether he managed to destroy the Horcrux?”

“No, not that. I was wondering about him and Sirius, really. All I know about Regulus is the bit Sirius told me; that he’d joined the Death Eaters, then tried to back out and was killed. But that wasn’t exactly true, and Sirius never knew that.”

“That’s true, but what does it matter?”

“Well, the impression I got was that Sirius never liked Regulus at all. I was just wondering if Sirius would have been proud, knowing his brother gave his life trying to put a stop to Voldemort once and for all.”

“I see,” Hermione said. “You’d like to think that maybe they weren’t so different.”

“Yeah. They were brothers, after all. And they both risked their lives fighting Voldemort. I think Sirius would have liked to know that. He would’ve liked to know he wasn’t the only member of his family to fight on the side of the Light.”

“He already knew, Harry,” Hermione said softly. “Your parents, and Lupin, were Sirius’ real family.”

“Yeah…yeah, you’re right,” Harry agreed after a moment. He reached out and placed his hand over Hermione’s. “Like you, Ginny and Ron are my family now. It’s the same thing.”

Hermione’s eyes were shining, but she smiled shakily. “There’s no one I’d rather have as a brother than you, Harry.”

“That makes Petunia and Vernon your aunt and uncle too, then.”

Hermione’s nose wrinkled. “Eurgh. Is it too late to change my mind?”

Harry laughed. “Yep. You’re stuck with me now.”

A knock at the door made them look over; Neville, Luna and George were there. Harry got up and opened the door; “Isn’t Fred coming?” he asked George.
“He wouldn’t have made it,” George said as Hermione conjured a fifth chair. “I wrote to tell him to meet me at the shop in half an hour; I’ll fill him and Angelina in then.”

“We’ll all go, so we can give Angelina the questions first,” Harry said, sitting back down. He took a deep breath. “Okay. Neville, Luna, I hope you’ll forgive me, but I’m just going to start in; we’ll fill you in on the way.”

*****

Ginny sat stewing in her room. She was going a bit mad, confined to the house, especially since her mother was constantly around as well. And she’d had no response from Harry, so she’d been forced to conclude that whatever his reaction to her letter had been, they weren’t going to proceed with the plan that day. And she was still horny, which was infuriating – she’d never felt so randy until she’d finally gotten together with Harry. Vaguely recognizing the sounds of supper being started downstairs, but having no appetite, Ginny collapsed back onto her bed. She was contemplating masturbating again despite the soreness, just to take her mind off everything.

Being bored, feeling mildly claustrophobic, and having the desperate desire to slaughter her parents didn’t leave Ginny in the greatest frame of mind, so when there was a knock on the door she just shouted “Piss off!”

George opened the door and poked his head through. “Is that any way to speak to your dear, beloved brother?”

“What, is Bill out there?” Ginny retorted, and quirked her eyebrow as Fred appeared behind George. “What the sodding hell are you two doing here?”

“George and I are here for the food, of course. You know we don’t dare eat our own cooking.”

“I know, I remember the time you two tried to cook for the family on mum’s birthday. I had to use a Scouring Charm on my tongue.” Ginny let a smirk cross her face at the twins’ wounded looks, but it fell away quickly. “Is that the only reason you’re here?” she asked, hating the plaintive tone of her voice.

“Afraid so, and to share your warm and wonderful company,” George replied. ”Mum sent us up to tell you to come down for supper.” He dropped his voice to almost a whisper. “And Harry said to tell you you’re on for tonight.”

Ginny’s heart skipped a beat. “Really?”

Fred nodded slightly. “Wait until everyone’s in bed, then get to the shop. Harry said you had a way there,” he added, looking a bit puzzled. “And may I add on behalf of myself and George that you are certifiable for even considering Harry’s mad plan?”

“Of course I’m insane, I grew up with you!”

“I’m serious, Ginn,” Fred muttered, his face unusually sober. “George and I will risk a lot of mum’s wrath, but this is Percy territory.”

“I know,” Ginny answered seriously. “And it doesn’t matter. Ever since the Chamber of Secrets I’ve been waiting, knowing this was coming. I decided a long time ago that I’d give my life to something that was bigger than me, if it was right. I have to do this.”

“Knew you’d say that.” George went to wipe away a tear, and it was a second before Ginny realized it was a real one.

“You’re a Weasley, all right,” Fred said, stepping backing out the door. “So brave it’s stupid. Good on you, Ginny. Whatever happens, we’re on your side.”

“Oh- wait!” Ginny hissed, leaping up and running over to grab Fred’s arm. “I don’t have my wand!”

“Mum?”

“Yeah, her right pocket.”

George nodded. “We’ll play target.”

“Thanks,” Ginny said, squeezing Fred’s arm. “Tell them I’m changing and I’ll be down in a minute, all right?”

Fred and George both nodded and headed down to the kitchen. Ginny waited until she heard them speaking to their mother, and stepped out her door and crept swiftly but silently up the stairs. At the top she reached her parents’ room, and quickly slipped inside.

She’d only been in her parents’ room a handful of times in the last several years, and only about half of those they knew about. Ginny searched with determination for only half a minute before finding what she knew was there. Making sure she’d left no signs of her intrusion, she closed the door behind her, and quiet as a mouse slipped back into her room. She stepped out a moment later; trying to contain her excitement, she plastered a weary scowl on her face, and headed down to the kitchen.

When she collapsed sullenly into her chair, her mother turned and frowned at her. “I thought you were changing.”

“Can’t be bothered,” Ginny muttered defiantly. “It’s not like anyone important’s going to see me, is it?”

Her mother flushed but decided not to rise to Ginny’s comment; instead she leaned over Ginny’s left shoulder and started dishing out food onto Ginny’s plate. Ginny was relieved to see her dad wasn’t home for supper, apparently working late at the Ministry again. She glanced across the table and met Fred’s eye; he raised an eyebrow and nodded, ever so slightly. Then his eyes shifted over to George, who was standing by the sink. Another nod, and Fred started their game.

They’d played the game before, the three of them, when their mother had confiscated one of their wands in the past. They’d gotten extremely good at it, although it was usually Ginny who did the distracting since Fred and George were far more likely to be caught out at their pranks and therefore punished.

“Mum,” Fred said, “did I tell you Angelina got back today?”

“Oh? That’s nice, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said vaguely. “Is she enjoying playing Quidditch, then?”

“Never been happier,” Fred answered; only Ginny caught his slightly lascivious tone. “I’m getting together with her for drinks later tonight to catch up.”

Mrs. Weasley frowned. “I don’t approve of your drinking, Fred.”

“Oh mum, we’re only going to close down one pub, that’s all!”

“Fred, you know that-”

“Here comes the soup! Locomotor cauldron!”

Mrs. Weasley turned in time to see a large cauldron filled with scalding hot soup floating rapidly toward her across the kitchen; an increasingly alarmed George was trying to alter its path with his wand, to no avail. “George, no!” Mrs. Weasley shouted, and attempted to divert the cauldron magically; however, she was holding a ladle and not her wand, and succeeded only in sending mashed potatoes flying everywhere. But the distraction was more than enough; when Mrs. Weasley raised her arm, Ginny reached out and plucked her wand smoothly from her mother’s pocket, stuffing it up her own sleeve.

George managed to turn the cauldron at the last second and miss his mother, but the cauldron collided with the table and sent soup sloshing everywhere. “George- this is- I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU!” Mrs. Weasley bellowed furiously. “YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER THAN THAT BY NOW!”

“Sorry, mum!” George said abashedly, setting the half-empty cauldron carefully on the table by hand.

The rest of supper was tense. Ginny was constantly nervous that her mother would notice the missing wand; she never had before until at least a day later, but that didn’t mean she wouldn’t this time. Fortunately, Mrs. Weasley was so furious at George she seemed to have forgotten that she was mad at Ginny at all. Ginny was too jittery to have much appetite, and excused herself soon after; Mrs. Weasley didn’t notice anything out of the ordinary.

It was all Ginny could do not to pace her room the rest of the night. She tried to read, but she was too distracted. Writing a letter proved impossible too. While she had the privacy, she quickly put together some things she wanted to take with her, and packed them in her schoolbag; then she shoved the bag under her bed so it was unnoticeable.

The sounds of the house floated up to her room, and Ginny drove herself up the wall with nerves, waiting for the house to settle. Finally, after what seemed like days, she heard her father come home. A few minutes later, her parents tiredly trudged up the stairs to their room; as they passed Ginny’s door she heard her mother complaining about the twins, and grinned to herself; her wand wouldn’t be noticed until she herself was found missing.

Ginny waited for another hour, knowing it would take a while for her parents to fall asleep. Finally she stood up and pulled her bag out from under her bed. She slung it over her shoulder and glanced around for anything else she might need.

She found tears welling up as her eyes moved about the room. It had been her room since before she could remember – a child’s room, but as much a part of her as her family. There were countless reminders of her life everywhere she looked; drawings on the walls from when she’d been six, a trophy she’d won at nine for being the best in her class at flying. There was an artifact on top of her dresser that Bill had brought back for her from Egypt, and a handful of dragons’ scales Charlie had given her over the years. Also on the dresser was a sack of dungbombs Fred and George had made a present of on her fifteenth birthday that she’d never gotten around to using, and – she bit her lip to keep from sobbing – a portrait of Ginny, done by Ron.

Ginny stepped over and lifted the portrait. Every time she looked at it she was amazed. Fred and George had teased Ron out of continuing with his drawing, and it was the one thing Ginny really hated them for. Ron had real talent at art. The simple pencil sketch looked so like Ginny it was uncanny; Ron had caught her in a rare moment of shyness, a slightly mischievous grin on her face, her head hunched to display a bit of false modesty at a prank well done. Ginny stared at the scrawl in the corner: Ron Weasley, in shaky, eight-year-old hand. Ginny had begged Ron to sign it before her mother framed it for her.

Ginny quickly unslung the bag from her shoulder and placed the picture carefully inside. After a moment’s thought she put the dragons’ scales, the artifact and the dungbombs in her bag as well. Picking up the bag again, she stepped over to her mirror and pulled a piece of parchment out of her pocket. It was a note to her parents. She fastened it to the mirror, and cast a simple Charm to make the parchment flutter slightly, so her parents would be sure to notice it. The message was simple:

I’m sorry, I had to do this. I can’t stand by and not help while my friends are fighting and maybe dying.

I love you, Ginny

Ginny stepped back. She glanced around one last time, and took a deep breath. “Goodbye,” she whispered, and Apparated.

Ginny appeared in the back room of Weasleys’ Wizarding Wheezes. George, Neville and Susan were there, and started when she appeared. “Hey, Ginn,” George said, raising his wand. “Where did Fred and I keep our stash of Firewhiskey at Hogwarts?”

Ginny grinned. “Just inside the secret passageway leading to Honeydukes, behind a Charm to keep it hidden.”

George lowered his wand. “How the hell did you figure that out, anyway?” he muttered.

“You and Fred used to be horrible at Silencing Charms. I listened in when you were home after your first year.”

Susan stared at George. “You two were drinking Firewhiskey when you were twelve?”

“No! We just used the place to hide other things at first!” George scowled at Ginny, who smiled complacently back.

“Well good.” Susan stepped over and, to Ginny’s surprise, hugged her. “Welcome back. Ginny,” she said.

“Thanks,” Ginny replied.

Susan stepped back and held out her hand. “Harry asked me to meet you here and take your things back to the house, so you can get on with whatever it is you’re doing.”

“Oh- thanks,” Ginny said. She removed a piece of parchment and stuffed it inside her robes before handing over her bag. Susan said goodbye and Flooed away. “So where are we going?”

“Copy me after I go,” Neville answered with a shy smile. Stepping into the fireplace, he called out “Rosewood Manor!” and vanished.

Ginny raised her eyebrows at George. “Rosewood Manor?”

George shrugged. “Harry found it. Don’t ask me how.”

Harry’s name made Ginny’s pulse accelerate. Without a moment’s hesitation, she tossed a handful of Floo powder in the fire, called out “Rosewood Manor!” and vanished.

Neville and Fred caught Ginny on the other end, and helped her up. She was about to thank them when her eyes fell on Harry, and every other thought fled her mind. She ran right over and threw her arms around him, crying a bit. “I missed you,” she whispered in his ear.

“I missed you, too.” Harry pulled back and met Ginny’s eye. “Ginn, are you sure about this? Have you really thought about what it’ll mean? You can’t go back from-”

Ginny silenced Harry with a finger on his lips. Never taking her eyes from him, she pulled the parchment from her robes and handed it over her shoulder, where Fred took it. ”Harry, I’ve had all day to do nothing at all except think about this. You told me before you wouldn’t let fear come between us; Well, I will not let fear stop me doing what’s right.” She blushed. “And…that’s not the only reason I’m doing it, either.”

Before Harry could reply, they heard Fred mutter “Bloody brilliant!” They both turned to find Fred and George staring at the mostly-blank parchment. Fred looked up at Ginny. “Why didn’t you tell us dad had these, Ginn?”

“Because you two are dangerous enough,” Ginny retorted. “It’ll work though, right?”

“Should,” George muttered.

“I don’t understand,” Hermione said, peering around Fred. “What exactly is it?”

“It’s an official Ministry document,” Ginny told Hermione. “They’re supposed to remain blank until they’re filled out, and then they’re signed, and then magically signed. Dad’s been pre-signing these for a few years, to save time. He’s not supposed to, he’d get in a ton of trouble if anyone found out – I bet mum doesn’t even know. I swiped one from his and mum’s room.”

Hermione gasped. “So- so whatever is written on there will be legally binding?”

“So long as it looks like dad’s handwriting,” George said, “which is why we needed Fred.”

Fred produced a quill with a flourish. “I’ve been forging dad’s handwriting for as long as I can remember,” he said with a hint of pride. “Not even mum can tell them apart. I’ll just write a little note of consent from dad…Hermione, what do you reckon the wording should be?”

“But why didn’t Fred just sign the form in his dad’s hand too?” asked Neville.

“Because it has to be magically signed, and that can’t be faked,” George said. “But Ginny’s a tricky one. Bloody hell, Ginn, if you and Fred had worked together on these before! The mayhem you could have started!”

“I can just imagine,” Ginny muttered with a smirk. “Fred’s real talent is creating chaos.”

“That’s my boy,” Angelina said with a chuckle.

“Angelina!” Ginny ran over and gave the tall girl a hug. “I didn’t even see you!”

“Yeah, your eyes were all on Harry,” Angelina teased, and Ginny blushed. “It’s good to see you, Ginny. I’m- I’m so sorry about Ron.”

“Thanks,” Ginny whispered. “We’ll get him back. Hermione will figure it out eventually – pretty soon she’ll stop sleeping to have more time to research.”

“Sounds right.” Angelina released Ginny and looked her up and down. “Wow, you’ve changed a lot in a year.”

“So have you.” Angelina had always been tall and slim, but a year of playing amateur and semi-professional Quidditch had given her the most stunning body Ginny had ever seen. She could have modeled swimwear, or alternatively for fitness magazines under the “this is the right way to do it” section. Ginny smirked. “I bet you’re fighting them off with a Beater’s bat. Are you sure you want to settle for my brother?”

Fred, who’d been engrossed in his forgery, looked up. “Oi! Am I or am I not aiding you in your crazy plot here?”

“Sorry Fred,” Ginny replied with an unrepentant smile as Hermione dragged Fred’s attention back to their collaboration. Angelina chuckled.

Luna walked up to Ginny. “Hello Ginny,” she said pleasantly. “I’m glad you’re coming back; I’ve missed you.”

Ginny hugged Luna. “I missed you too, Lu.”

“Hi Luna, I didn’t get to greet you properly before,” Angelina said. “I understand I have you to thank for getting Fred to finally see sense.”

“What?” Ginny asked.

“Apparently your two miscreant brothers got their arses handed to them, literally, by our friend here.”

Ginny gaped at Luna, who smiled back. “Luna! You didn’t!”

“Oh, I did. But afterwards Fred decided he wanted to be exclusive with Angelina. Which is probably good, because George is a bit of a handful all by himself.”

Ginny glanced over at George, who dropped his nervous gaze from the three girls, blushing furiously. “Really?” Ginny asked vaguely, grinning like she’d just gotten a late birthday present.

“Oh yes. He’s very distracting. But in good ways, of course. He has a surprisingly long tongue.”

“So he and Fred really are identical, huh?” Angelina asked curiously.

“I hate you both,” Ginny said, cringing, and Angelina laughed.

“All right you three, break it up,” Fred said, waving the parchment in their direction. “We’re finished.”

Ginny shivered in anticipation. She took the parchment from Fred, and Harry came to read over her shoulder. “Will it hold up?” Harry asked.

“If that really is a legal parchment, and Fred’s copied his father’s handwriting accurately, then yes it will,” Hermione said.

The door across the room opened; immediately eight wands were pointed, but the middle-aged man who stepped through regarded the wands with no fear, just amusement. He was dressed in extremely fancy and ornate robes, and he smiled at Harry. “Mr. Potter, it’s good to see you again.”

Harry lowered his wand. “Er, sorry about that, but…”

The man waved his hand dismissively. “You are perhaps the greatest target in the world. I understand the need for caution. That is why we are here in secret, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, it is. And thank you again for letting us be here so late.” Harry turned quickly to Ginny and took her hand. “Last chance, Ginny. You’re certain?”

“Yeah,” Ginny said, feeling a bit lightheaded. “I’m certain.”

Harry’s smile was full of joy; for a moment the fear, the constant guilt and regret he carried melted away and left him nothing but happiness. “Well, come on then,” he said with a hint of giddiness. “Let’s get married.”