MetaFic

Harry sat outside on the back patio, reading a book about charm breaking that Bill had loaned him and patiently waiting for the right opportunity to talk to his current watcher. The smell of stale pipe smoke and firewhiskey filled the air, and Harry smiled. Mundungas Fletcher was just the person he was hoping for.

"Hey there, Dung," Harry said into the dark.

"Blimey, Potter, give a bloke a heart attack, would ya!" Fletcher said, peering from under an invisibility cloak.

Harry laughed. "Sorry."

Fletcher shook his head slowly. "So how have you been, then?"

"Not bad," Harry said, smiling. "How's business?"

Mundungas Fletcher gave Harry a shrewd look. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"If you say so, Dung."

Fletcher took out his pipe and filled it, never making eye contact with Harry. "It's been pretty quiet, then? Everything okay with the muggles?"

Harry tried to keep his voice calm and his body language neutral. "Yeah, everything's been fine. I'm thinking about heading up to bed pretty soon."

Fletcher nodded. "Good, good to hear."

Harry stood and stretched, making a show of acting tired. "Because if a body had — some business they need to attend to — I figure it's too early for anyone to come sneaking around, and I'll just be upstairs asleep, not out wandering the park."

"Um-hum," Fletcher said, taking a great puff.

"Well, good-night, Dung," Harry said, smiling, as he ambled toward the back door.

"'Night, Harry," Fletcher said.

Harry stopped and dropped a small letter on the kitchen table. That chore done, he climbed the stairs to his room and sat under the open window, his light turned off. He waited until the smell of pipe smoke drifted into the room and then settled in, listening intently. When there came a soft pop and the smoke smell faded, Harry swung into action.

Harry changed into a Weasley jumper and a heavy cloak. He took his wand and shrunk down his trunk, placing it in his pocket for safe keeping. Taking up the heavy Heart Shaft Four, Harry mounted it and looked around the room. He seemed satisfied.

"Well, girl," Harry said, talking to Hedwig, "do you want to ride with me or fly alongside?"

The snowy owl gave a hoot and launched herself out the window. Harry laughed, cast a disillusionment on himself, cast a spell to negate the tracking charms Dumbledore had placed on him, and followed her. He had a lot of stops to make before the night was over.

***
Harry hovered on his broom just outside her bedroom, watching her sleep. He smiled at her, one of his two closest friends. She had pushed the covers off, and her nightdress clung to her form, showing Harry that she was not the same bushy haired little girl he had met so long ago. No, she was turning into a woman. Harry hoped that his other best friend would clue in soon. They really did deserve each other.

Harry softly cast the spell to open her window. He flew silently inside and landed by her bed. She moaned and turned over in her sleep. Harry stood very still, waiting until he was sure she would not wake. He reached into his cloak and withdrew the letter he had written her, placing it on her bedside table.

"You've been a good friend, Hermione. Take care of Ron and Ginny for me," Harry whispered. He leaned over and gave her a soft kiss on the forehead.

"Umm," Hermione muttered. "Ron, please–" she said. Then she sighed and drifted back into a deep sleep.

Suddenly feeling like he was doing something wrong by being in her room, Harry quietly mounted the broom and drifted out the window.

He turned the heavy family broom and flattened himself along it, urging it to its top speed toward his next destination.

The twins' joke shop was surely warded and guarded by whatever strange and wondrous invention Fred and George could come up with, so Harry went to the owl post station. The toothless wizard behind the counter eyed Harry distrustfully but took his letter and package, which Harry dutifully paid for. The old man promised the owl would deliver it first thing in the morning. Harry thanked the man and walked out of the building.

His final destination took him longer to reach, and Harry knew he would have to hurry if he wanted to be finished by dawn. He landed just outside of the Burrow and cautiously made his way toward the back door.

Harry knew the building's wards would recognize him, and he entered the kitchen through the back door unchallenged. He left a letter to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley on the kitchen table and then turned to the stairs. Careful on the creaking stairs, Harry made his way to Ron's room. There, Harry took out another letter and the Marauder's Map and set them by Ron's bed while Ron snored fit to wake the dead. Harry smiled down at the first real friend he had ever made, and then he turned and left the room. He had one more stop to make.

Moving like a ghost, Harry made his way to a room he had never entered before. He turned the knob on the door and slowly opened it, peering around the door at the inside of the room.

The room was painted a soft pink. Harry thought that it must have been Mrs. Weasley’s idea because he just could not see the occupant of the room being happy with that color. There were two old dressers and a sagging bookcase along the walls and a small bed under a window. Lying on the bed was the youngest Weasley. Harry slipped inside, feeling very self-conscious about being in Ginny Weasley's room while she slept. He moved toward her bed, keeping one eye on her to make sure she was asleep.

Harry reached into his cloak and pulled out a final letter and his shrunken Firebolt. He murmured the incantation to return the racing broom to its normal size and laid it on the foot of her bed. The letter went on her tiny bedside table. Harry turned to go.

"No — Tom — I won't--"

Harry turned to look at Ginny. She had started to kick, causing the covers to come off. She turned and put her arms up, as if trying to defend herself. "Please — you're hurting — no, I won't let you--"

Harry stepped back toward the sleeping girl as the nightmare seemed to intensify. She was actually starting to thrash around violently on the bed, as if trying desperately to get away from something.

"Stop it — you can't — no, don't —"

Harry was unsure how to proceed, but instinct took over. He knelt by her bed and placed a hand on Ginny's forehead.

"Sshh, Ginny, it’s okay. You're all right. You're safe," Harry whispered.

"I don't care — hurt me, but not Harry - please Tom, don't..." Ginny murmured, but she started to still.

Harry licked suddenly dry lips. He wondered just what horrors Tom Riddle had inflicted on Ginny Weasley. She had claimed not to remember her possession, but obviously something of that time was stuck in her mind. He ran a hand down her face and leaned near her ear. "It's okay, Ginny. Tom's not going to hurt you. I'm here."

"Harry," Ginny whispered, her eyes still closed. "Harry, I'm so sorry, I tried-"

Harry's forehead wrinkled in confusion. What on earth could she be talking about? "It's okay, Ginny, just go to sleep. Everything's fine," he said in a low, soothing voice.

"Harry... I should have been there —" she sighed softly, her body relaxing. "I'm sorry."

Harry kept stroking her forehead until she stilled and her breaths came deep and steady, letting him know she was back to sleep. He stood and looked at her, and then he turned toward Hedwig, who had witnessed the entire scene from where she sat on Ginny's windowsill.

"I want you to stay here with Ginny. I think she needs someone right now."

Hedwig hooted an affirmative.

Harry reached into his cloak and pulled out his trunk. He returned it to normal size, withdrew Hedwig's cage, and took the shrinking spell off of it, also. He re-shrunk the trunk, placed it in his robes, and then picked up the letter he had written Ginny. Looking around the room, he spotted a quill and ink bottle on the bookcase. He added a few lines to the letter, refolded it, and placed it back on her table.

Harry drew his wand and looked at Hedwig. "Okay, girl. I'm going to cast a spell on you and Ginny. You know what to do if someone sends me letters, right?"

Hedwig blinked at him.

Harry closed his eyes and focused on the spell he wanted to cast. He had planned to take Hedwig with him, but it seemed Ginny needed the companionship more. Harry hoped that by putting Ginny in charge of Hedwig's care, she would derive some comfort about the situation Harry was going to cause. Harry said the incantation, pointing the wand first at Hedwig, then at Ginny, and finally at himself.

As Harry finished the spell, Ginny suddenly sat up; her eyes wide, her hair a wild red tangle, her mouth open in shock. "Oh, Harry, no, don't leave me!" she said. Then she fell back on her bed, her eyes closed, her breathing ragged and shallow. Harry stared down at Ginny. She was sprawled on top of her sheets; her nightdress was soaked in sweat and clinging to her, bunched up around her pale thighs. She made a small whimpering noise and then seemed to relax again.

Harry was suddenly very aware that Ginny Weasley was a girl. He wondered how he'd missed that before.

Harry realized in that moment what a total idiot he had been. She had waited patently for him to notice her, but he had been merrily asking Parvati to the ball, then Cho to Hogsmeade. Ginny Weasley had held out a caring hand of friendship and perhaps more, and Harry had never noticed. Harry sighed and studied her as if seeing her for the first time. She was compact, cute, athletic, familiar with his messed up life, seemed to like him just because he was Harry. She was fearless in defense of her loved ones, and she was a Weasley. She had offered him the best of all possible worlds, and he, silly boy that he had been, had missed it.

With a sad smile at what could have been, Harry turned and walked out of her room. Once back on the ground floor he took a last good look at the place he had always considered his home, second only to Hogwarts. Then, without a backward glance, he walked out of the house and mounted his broom.

Harry Potter kicked off and flew away into the night.

The next morning six letters were opened.

Chaos ensued.