little red
Pairing: Harry Potter x Ginny Weasley (BUT this is more of a Ginny Weasley and Sirius Black friendship HC if you will)
Summary: “Excuse me, but I care what happens to Sirius as much as you do!” said Ginny, her jaw set so that her resemblance to Fred and George was suddenly striking. - Chapter 33: Fight and Flight (Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix)
Warnings: Small battle scene, minor mentions of blood and injuries, small mentions of death... I think that’s about it? Mostly fluff and humor.
Word Count: 6.8k+ (oops)
A/N: hello! This is my first time posting an HP fic here so I hope you'll be kind! This idea has been an itch in my brain I've been wanting to scratch ever since I re-read OOTP. It's mostly canon apart from the ending (y'all know what ending I'm talking about lol). Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think!
Order of the Phoenix missing moments
Read on AO3
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Sirius always knew. He thinks he's known from the very beginning, but even more so when he chanced upon her creeping down the rickety stairs of Grimmauld Place—clutching a hand full of round mud brown pellets that looked all too familiar—with a mischievous glint in her eyes and lips pursed in strict concentration. With as little noise as she could possibly yield, she made it to the bottom of the second landing, eyeing the offending door with the equally offending Silencing Charms casted to muffle whatever it was the "children" were not allowed to hear.
Leaning over the bannister to get a good view of her target, her fiery red mane tumbled over one shoulder like a curtain, concealing half of her determined face from Sirius who was gazing up at the show with amusement; he was suddenly in no hurry to get back to the meeting that was getting fouler by the day. Although the sounds were muffled, he knew exactly how riled up everyone was behind that door, the very reason he had to step out in the first place.
Fighting in the first war, Sirius knew that every moment for members of the Order of the Phoenix was as good as their last. "We might as well seal our deaths," James's voice echoed through his thoughts at the distant memory of him and his friends officially joining the Order that one bleak winter evening. He could still feel Lily's grip on both his and James's hands as she sat between the two, not once glancing at anyone as Dumbledore spelled out every possible danger being a member of the Order would entail.
"Might as well," Lily breathed out and looked at Dumbledore straight in the eye, "Count us in."
Dumbledore didn't need to look at the rest of the gentleman for approval. Lily might have been James's woman, but whatever Lily Evans said the Marauders always followed.
Almost always.
"Ah, crud."
Sirius is yanked back into the dreary hall of Grimmauld Place, just as a putrid ball of manure bounces off the charmed kitchen door and zooms past the cobwebby chandelier, straight for his startled face. Times like these made Sirius truly grateful for his canine instincts, as he stepped aside just in the nick of time.
The mud brown ball splattered onto a worn-out tapestry, right beside the large troll’s leg umbrella stand.
"Oops."
He glanced back up at Ginny Weasley who was grinning sheepishly down at him from the second landing, "Sorry, Sirius."
"Good aim," said Sirius, winking up at her, "Although I believe your mother has the door Imperturbed, little red."
Ginny scrunched up her nose and it reminded him too much of another red head he knew, "That's no good. Well if Dungbombs won’t work then it's a long shot for Fred and George's Extendable Ears."
Sirius quirked an eyebrow, "Extendable Ears?"
Ginny waved a hand, "Eavesdropping contraptions they made up over the summer—" she stopped short and eyed Sirius warily, "Will you tell? Because if mum finds out, you didn't hear it from me."
Sirius grinned. As if anyone would expect Sirius Black, 1/4 of the Marauders, to ever tattle about anyone's mischief. "Bound me by oath, I shall tell no living soul."
Ginny sighed in relief and tucked her hair behind her ears, leaning over the bannister even further. If Sirius didn't catch the tips of her shoes hooked through the railing, he'd be afraid she'd fall flat on her face.
"What are you doing out here?" she inquired curiously, "That door may be Imperturbed but I'm almost positive I heard yelling."
"Precisely why I'm not in there," he sighed and glanced at the kitchen door. He didn't feel like going back inside the chaos at all.
"Really?" Ginny looked even more interested than she was a minute ago. "Don't tell me it's boring?"
Sirius nearly scoffed, "No, little red. Quite the contrary. But being in a room discussing plans for a war you cannot participate in can get quite stale."
He grimaced at his own tone. Sirius wanted to stop feeling sorry for himself, truly and largely through with all the pitiful stares Remus kept sending his way (although discreet) every time Dumbledore so much as shrugged off his requests at lending a hand (or paw) to anything the Order might need. He knew he was being overbearing, which was the last thing he wanted to make anybody feel with his presence. Although being stuck in his wicked mother's house filled with nothing but forbidding memories did no good to his sanity or his morals. He glanced back up at Ginny who was chewing on her bottom lip, deep in thought.
"Anyway, little red, up you go before your mother finds ou—"
"Wanna play Quidditch?"
Sirius blinked.
"Quidditch?"
"I need to practice."
"Trying out for the team are you?" he asked.
Ginny shrugged, "I think Ron wants to have a go, but he's always been Keeper. Just staying on my toes in case Angelina needs a new Chaser this year."
"Chaser, eh?" said Sirius smiling. "Was Keeper myself back in the old days. James, however, was—"
"Chaser, I know. I also knew you were Keeper," said Ginny impatiently. "So do you want to play?"
Sirius peered curiously up at her once again. He wasn't sure even his own godson knew of his Quidditch history. "How did you know I was Keeper?"
Now Ginny had the nerve to look shameful.
"I've been walking past the Trophy room on the third floor to all my classes since first year," she blushed, "Charms was always fun. Professor Flitwick never really minded if I took too long in the loo."
Her embarrassment ebbed when she saw Sirius's proud grin.
"Anyway, all the Gryffindor teams over the years are listed on the Quidditch board," she said.
"And you have them memorized?"
She ignored him. "So? Will you help me practice? Or were you no good?"
Her eyes held a glint of a challenge and was filled with outpouring mischief Sirius hadn't felt in years.
Dreadful meeting forgotten, he asked, "And where do you propose we are to practice? I've played quite a few years to know we need more than a grimy hallway to fly, little red."
Ginny's eyes were filled with mirth, "I know just the place."
----—-----
Ginny Weasley was a fantastic flyer. Her small but built frame made her agile and quick enough to score a couple (more than a couple) past Sirius, who, admittedly, was rusty on a broom, but could neither deny the fact that the girl was akin to a zapping ball of flame, whizzing past him zealously.
The small alcove behind Grimmauld Place (that Sirius previously remembered to be a dump for old furniture the Black family disposed of ) was cleared and mowed into a backyard of sorts; although the grass was a dying shade of brown, weeds scattered the soil, and the lone shrub by the fence seemed to be in its last breath.
"Mum had Bill and I clear it out just in case the kitchen got too full," explained Ginny. "But nobody's used it yet, and we've still got room. Mad Eye had the surroundings Disillusioned so we can fly as high as the attic."
Sirius spent the next couple of weeks training with Ginny on a Comet Two Sixty they borrowed from Tonks. It was the highlight of his days, superbly scheduled right after Order meetings. An angry Sirius coming out of the kitchens to practice was something Ginny looked forward to (and often hoped, although she'd never admit), only because he wouldn't have the mind to hold out on blocking her Quaffles— almost saving every attempt she had at a perfect goal. There were days when the twins and Ron would come out for a match, three-on-two, and Sirius would give Ron tips on how to Keep.
“You’re fast,” he told Ginny at one point, trying to catch his breath after her third goal of the day; the Quaffle zoomed behind his broom and into the makeshift goal post after her clever diversion of swerving around his front. She raised her eyebrows at him as if to say Duh. He rolled his eyes.
“Have you ever considered Seeking?” he inquired.
“Seeking?” she frowned. “Nope. Never. Besides, that position’s not up in the air anytime soon anyway.”
The perpetual loneliness was in no hurry to crawl back into Sirius's mind. Out of all the members of the Order (children included), it was Ginny Weasley (apart from his godson) who made him feel the most welcomed into the world once again; treated humanely, and not some fugitive on the run. She even managed to find the time to occasionally rally him with a game of Exploding Snap.
One particular night that summer, Molly walked in the living room carrying a tray of sandwiches which she set down beside the two.
"Would you know where the extra sheets are, Sirius?" asked Molly, "I need to prepare Harry's bed for tomorrow."
Sirius doesn't miss the way Ginny paused the slightest, then carried on with playing a card down. He swiftly taps the top card with his wand, his opponent only seconds behind. He grins at her cheekily. She missed.
"That point was mine thank you— Ah yes, Molly, of course. I'll have Kreacher bring the sheets up to Ron and Harry's room."
"Harry's arriving, mum?" asked Ginny behind her cards, seeming as though she was deciding which one to play next.
But Sirius could register her unfocused eyes.
"Mad Eye and the rest are leaving at dusk tomorrow. You best tell Hermione and Ron as well. Like twitching worms those two are, can't stop asking when Harry'll be arriving," Molly sighs wistfully, "My poor boy."
Although he hadn't been in the best moods with Molly these days, Sirius couldn't help but grasp her hand to give it a light squeeze.
"No need to worry, Molly. You know Mad Eye. He'll be very thorough."
"Oh, I suppose you're right," said Molly, squeezing Sirius's hand back and reached out to rake her fingers through her daughter's hair.
"Not tired yet, Ginerva? You spent the whole afternoon flying," she looked back at Sirius reproachingly.
He merely shrugged with a small smile.
"I'll sleep when I beat him," said Ginny, finally looking up from her cards.
"Fat chance, Weasley," said Sirius.
Molly sighed tiredly. "Oh why do I even bother," she grumbled as she gathered the empty mugs on the coffee table and walked back into the kitchen.
"Love you, mum!" Ginny yelled after her mother as she grabbed a sandwich on the tray and started nibbling.
"You haven't drawn," she said with a frown.
Looking from the cards piled on the floor and back to the ones she held, "It's your turn. Go draw."
But Sirius didn't draw.
He gazed at his cards instead, as if concentrating hard.
"So," he spoke casually, "my godson will finally be gracing us with his presence. About time."
Ginny didn't answer.
He looked up from his cards to see her shuffling with her own, mumbling to herself.
"I suppose you two are friends?" he asked.
"Hmm? Oh yeah— er — well, sort of..." she trailed off, clearly having no intention to confirm nor deny.
Sirius waited two beats before realizing she wasn't going to elaborate, "Sort of?" He never really saw much of Ginny around the trio while he tailed them restlessly in dog form through Harry's third year.
"Aren't you going to draw?" she snapped irritably, making a show of how annoyed she was that he was interrupting their game.
"Are you?" he spoke slowly, "Friends with my godson?"
Ginny rolled her eyes. "I heard you the first time."
"But you haven't answered."
"I have! I said yes!"
"Actually, you said 'sort of'."
"Well, I meant 'yes'!" Ginny huffed indignantly, her ears were turning pink. "Are we still playing or not?"
"Fred said you never talked around him," he said casually.
At this remark, blood swiftly rushed to her cheeks and her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Did he now?"
Sirius no longer bothered to hide his grin.
"George said you fancy him even."
Ginny was so red, her freckles were more prominent than ever before. She seemed to be debating whether or not to abandon their game and flee to the safety of her room, or abandon their game to run off and hex her tattle tale twin brothers.
"For your information," she finally spoke, swallowing a lump in her throat before proceeding, "I used to fancy him a little bit. Not anymore, not for a very long time now actually."
“Oh?”
“Over him. Done. Moved on.”
A pair of cards exploded between them, emitting red and orange sparks.
“You’ve done it now,” groaned Ginny. She glanced up at Sirius whom she saw was smiling knowingly at her, his cards abandoned.
“You know what?” she said, “I’m going to bed. Good night, Sirius.”
“Oh come on,” he laughed as she gathered the cards and neatly put them away in a box, “Is Harry that bad? Can’t be as bad as James can he? That git never had the balls to man up to Lily until our 7th yea—"
“I’m seeing someone,” Ginny announced suddenly, which shut Sirius up quickly.
“Seeing someone?” he blinked up at her as she stood from the carpeted floor where they sat and began to gather the cushions around her.
“Yes. Michael Corner. He’s in Ron and Harry’s year, but in Ravenclaw. He's cute. We met at the Yule Ball and been writing at the start summer,” she had a small smile as she mentioned their exchange of letters, as if she had a nice little secret tucked inside her pocket.
Sirius’s brain, however, seemed to have stopped working.
Michael Corner?
His godson was losing a battle to a boy who did his homework? And who maybe even enjoyed it?
"Although I haven't heard from him since we moved here. Can't owl to him now either," she said with a frown, as if she didn't like the thought. "Maybe I should ask Dad to check if I've got post at the Burrow..."
Sirius's head continued to spin at the outrageous thought, but he looked at Ginny calmly.
“Yule Ball, eh? A dancing chap then,” he swallowed the profanities doing somersaults in his brain. “So, a Ravenclaw...”
Ginny eyed him warily, “That’s right.”
He forced an excited grin, “Splendid! Does he play Quidditch? Bet we can invite him over sometime.”
Impossible, Sirius thought. First of all, he was still a fugitive. He reckoned Michael Corner wouldn’t want to be tossing Quaffles with a man who escaped Azkaban; and second, wanted or not, he didn't think he’d ever let Harry get away with letting a girl like Ginny escape from his fingers. He didn’t let James cower away, he sure won’t let Harry either.
He heard her sigh and focused on keeping his face devoid of any inner turmoil.
“He doesn’t play Quidditch," said Ginny.
DOESN’T PLAY QUIDDI—
“Doesn’t play Quidditch?” Sirius raised an eyebrow, keeping his tone neutral. “Interesting.”
What’s she going to do with a bloke who doesn’t play bloody Quidditc—
“So what does he do?” he clears his throat, “in his spare time? Any hobbies?” He seriously should consider an acting career once his name got cleared.
Wrapping the quilt she was sitting on around her shoulders and balancing the tray of sandwiches her mother left on her hip, Ginny pursed her lips at Sirius and huffed, “Nothing that would concern you, Mr. Sirius Black. After all, what other hobbies did you have back in the old days? Other than stirring up trouble?”
She gathered the trail of her quilt with her spare hand and started walking towards the stairs, up to the bedrooms.
“Oh, come on, little red!” said Sirius exasperatedly, “What did I say? Tell me more about Michael Corner! What does he do? What sort of lot does he hang out with?”
He blanched at a sudden thought, gaping at her retreating back in horror.
“Michael Corner doesn’t hang out with Madam Pince does he?”
Ginny trudges up the stairs and doesn’t look back, but her steps progressed louder and heavier.
“If you stop saying his name like that, maybe I’ll think about answering your questions!” she growled and was out of sight.
----—----
Dear Padfoot,
You were right! I did get Seeker! But only because Harry received a lifetime Quidditch ban from Umbridge. I’m sure you’ve heard. That old hag. Fred and George got banned too. I wasn’t supposed to tryout till next year, but Angelina was desperate. You should’ve seen her face. Nearly close to tears every time I see her at breakfast.
I’m sorry you can’t floo anymore. I kept everyone out of the common room the last time. Pavarti left her Herbology homework by the fire but I convinced her to pick it up in the morning instead. I also told the Creeveys that the house elves were cleaning out the common room that night. Nobody wanted to bother them and welcome a bad breakfast. I hope you got to talk to Harry enough. If that old toad didn’t barge in, I’m sure he would’ve told you more about the D.A.
He’s a really good teacher Harry. REALLY good. He reminds me a lot of Remus, the way he teaches. Did you know he can produce a corporeal Patronus? I’ve known of course, from Ron, but seeing it up close was bloody brilliant. You’d be proud. Especially since his Patronus is a stag. Didn’t you say his dad was Prongs?
He’s also seeing this girl, Cho Chang. She’s nice. Very pretty. A Ravenclaw. She plays Quidditch as well. I guess we both have a thing for Ravenclaws? She always cries though, I’ve noticed. It must be hard for her, dealing with Cedric’s death. They were a thing before he died you see. I hope she doesn’t make Harry too sad at least. He’s been looking a lot gloomy these days. Always BROODING. And don’t get me started on his temper.
Anyway, this will likely be my last letter before Christmas. They don’t bother monitoring my owls as much as they do Harry, Ron, and Hermione’s, but it’d be best if you didn’t write back till after the holidays. Hopefully I see you for Christmas. I’ve already got you a present.
Don’t go sulking around too much!
With love,
Ginny
----—----
Never in her life has Ginny ever seen Harry Potter as broken and desolate as he was now, right before her eyes. That is to say she's seen quite a bit of his dismal days. But it was nothing like this. Although, of course, she knew she couldn't feel the extent of his pain, but pain she still felt; the hollow ache in her chest reverberated, first through her arms, paving way for gooseflesh to rise up to the very tips of her fingers, then down her legs and she felt her knees wobble desperately, as if they were telling her, We can carry you no longer.
With her sprained ankle and failing knees, she gripped the bed post nearest her so tightly it croaked beneath her weight. She watched as Harry did his very best to stand back helplessly and watch the healers fuss around Sirius's frail and pale body, casting stabilizing charms and fixing various droughts by the bed where he lay in the Hogwarts hospital wing.
It almost hit him.
Ginny whimpered at the memory of waking to Sirius's barking voice echo through the Department of Mysteries. Despite her busted ankle, she dragged herself up and registered Luna and Hermione passed out cold, while Ron struggled through the binding tentacles of thought wheeling out of the brain that held him captive. Neville and Harry were nowhere to be found.
"RON!" she yelled at her brother, who seemed to have finally snapped out of the laughing jinx he was in. "Hold still—"
"I HATE BRAINS!" screamed Ron. He managed to have pierced a tentacle with the tip of his wand and the bindings around his torso pulsated, as if the brain yelped in pain although no sound came out.
"GINNY, NOW!"
"Diffindo!"
The brain's tentacles weren't severed as Ginny would have hoped, but it weakened its hold on Ron most definitely that he succeeded in wiggling his way out.
"I've got it," mumbled Ron when she bent down to reach for him, "It might get you too." He finally kicked the tentacles of thought away and it trembled furiously on the cold floor, flashes of memories fluctuating.
Both siblings were panting heavily as they paused to catch their breaths. Ron's right knee jutted out in an odd angle that didn't look particularly natural. He shifted his weight to his left backside, scanned the room, and spotted Hermione lying across the room from him with her eyes wide open. His face paled.
"Hermione," whispered Ron weakly.
Ginny glanced over at her and Luna's lying forms.
"They're stunned," she said. "We need to get them back to school. We all need to get out of here."
She wouldn't have known if Ron heard her for his eyes were fixed solely on Hermione, but he gave a quick nod, "Yeah we—," his eyes suddenly darted around, searching, then he looked back at Ginny in panic.
"Where's Neville?" his eyes were filled with fear, "Where's Harry?"
A deep booming yell echoed from the open door, and Ron's face first scrunched up in confusion, then suddenly turned to a hopeful expression.
"Is that— is that Moody I hear?" his voice was almost weepy.
"Yes," said Ginny, struggling back up on one foot. "And I think I heard Sirius too."
She tried helping her brother up to his feet but to no avail. His right knee was most definitely not okay.
"I'm going to get help," she said. "Stay here and look after the others."
Ron looked like he was about to protest but swallowed the argument quickly. "Wait—" he quickly glances at Hermione then at Ginny's angry and swollen ankle, "you can barely walk."
"Compared to you I can," she said and winced as she shifted her weight. "Look after the others."
Ron swallowed painfully but nodded, his eyes finding Hermione again. No one would dare doubt Ginny's hexing skills, but as the older brother it was instinct to worry.
"Hurry back, yeah?"
Ginny stared at her youngest brother and felt her heart swell almost as much as her throbbing ankle (the pain intensifying to the point of numbness, which made it easier to ignore). People always thought it was Bill that she favored the most among her brothers, them being particularly close as the eldest and youngest. But while their closeness was unquestionable, there was one brother whom Ginny revered the most. Sheer—although closeted—admiration.
Ron always wore his heart on his sleeve, no matter how much he tried to clam it up—which Ginny admired profusely, if not envied at times. While he regularly complained under his breath about the state of poverty their family lived in, his face often falling behind his mother's back whenever he found out he'd be inheriting something of his older brothers' (like Charlie's old set of school robes instead of getting fresh, personally tailored ones from Madam Malkin's)—it was exactly this that made him all the more benign.
It was Ron who always lent Ginny his hand-me-down broom after an afternoon of spitting out tantrums all over the Burrow when her other brothers refused to let her play along, Ron who merely huffs in annoyance every time she barges in his room, plopping down on his bed as she talked his ear off—though he let her anyway; Ron who was just so selfless despite all his lamenting, never thinking twice about giving.
You're my hero, Ron, Ginny thought to herself as she gave her brother a nimble nod.
"Wand out," she cautioned him, and he snorted.
"I'll give those Death Eaters a Bat-Bogey hex in your honor."
Ginny had to swallow back her tears. She didn't know why she was getting emotional at this point. Perhaps it was the thought of death not very far from where they stood, as Death Eaters swarmed the Ministry. She pointed her wand to his knees to distract him from the glassy sheen forming in her eyes.
"Ferula."
Bandages spun up Ron's leg, strapping it tightly to a splint. He winced as they secured themselves and then he heaved a grateful sigh. "Thanks. Hold out yours."
Ankle patched and throbbing dulled to a minimum, Ginny limped out of the Brain Room, wand out and ready.
If Sirius and the others are here, we'll be alright, she thought, fighting down the growing panic that if the Death Eaters didn't get to him first, the Ministry would capture him instantly. He was, after all, still a mass murderer on the lose. She refused to think about Harry, who was god-knows-where, probably being impulsive and angry and careless with a helpless Neville on his toes.
Ginny evaded all abhorrent thoughts and swiped traitorous tears from her cheeks angrily.
He has to be okay. They all have to be.
She headed straight to the only other door still open, the one through which the Death Eaters themselves had come. Gripping the frame tightly as she fought through the pain on her ankle, she saw—to her horror—Mad-Eye lying on his side in the middle of the room by the dais, bleeding from the head, his magic eye spinning across the floor near a paralyzed Dolohov; Kingsley was swaying across her field of vision, battling with a now mask-less Rookwood, and she saw Remus, who had successfully disarmed Lucius Malfoy.
Her eyes scanned the room in panic, but was suddenly swept with utmost relief at the sight of Harry and Neville hobbling up the stone steps towards her.
Ginny stopped the scream from bubbling out of her throat, noticing the glass spherical prophecy tightly clutched by Neville's hand, not wanting to draw attention to them any further.
“Come on!” she heard Harry cry desperately, hauling at Neville’s robes. “Just try and push with your legs —”
Something hot like liquid heat was suddenly melting down Ginny's ankle. She looked down to see that the bandages Ron had given her were glowing a deep purple. It's not the bandages, she realized, it's my foot— the glowing stopped.
What the—
"It won't last, Ms. Weasley, but it'll do long enough."
Ginny turned, wand raised, to see Albus Dumbledore standing behind her, his own wand equally aloft, his face white and furious. She felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of her body—they were saved.
"Professor," she stammered, "I—"
"Mr. Longbottom is in need of your assistance, dear one," Dumbledore said with no preamble. "Go. The spell on your ankle won't last long."
She wasted no time.
Running down the stone steps, she ran into Neville, clutched him by the arm, and he almost sagged on top of her completely if it weren't for Harry holding him up.
"Ginny!" Harry looked at her in panic. "Where's Ron?"
"He's fine," she panted, hitching one of Neville's arms over her shoulders, "They're all fine. Harry, listen. Dumbledo—"
Announcing his presence was futile, she realized, as screams of fury suddenly rang throughout the chamber.
All three of them turned back to see one of the Death Eaters running for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore’s spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line.
Only one couple were still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Ginny saw Sirius duck Bellatrix’s jet of red light: He was laughing at her. “Come on, you can do better than that!” he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room.
The second jet of light barely missed his head. Sirius staggered backwards in shock. Ginny saw Bellatrix's face erupt into a triumphant smile as she raised her wand, pointing straight for his chest—
She heard Harry yell to her right but she had no more time to think, adrenaline and desperation pumping through her veins. She grabbed the prophecy from Neville who's grip had slackened in fright. This is way lighter than a Quaffle, a voice spoke in the back of her head as she let go of Neville, though unaware of doing so, shifted her weight back for a split second and released the glass orb with all her might, aiming for the space between Sirius and the tip of Bellatrix's wand.
"Avada Kedavra!"
It almost hit him
The jet of green light flashed through Ginny's memory, colliding with the the spherical orb of the prophecy instead of Sirius's chest, although its force was so strong that it knocked him off his feet, he passed out cold on the Death Chamber floor....
"Ginerva? Ginerva, dear, I told you to lie back down— Oh, my sweet," Madam Pomfrey's voice shook her out of her painful daze. She was back in the hospital wing, hand numb from clutching the bed post so tightly; the pain from her ankle was making her dizzy that she didn't realize the tears pouring out of her eyes.
"Is," she sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve messily, "is he going to be—"
"The healers are doing everything they can," Madam Pomfrey murmured quietly although her face was grim. "Let me have a look at your—"
"I'm okay," said Ginny stubbornly. She wouldn't move an inch farther away from Harry and Sirius than she already was.
"Ginny, I swear if you don't let Madam Pomfrey look at your leg I'll hex you myself," she heard Ron growl, although tiredly, from the bed behind her. "There's nothing you can do just lie back down."
Ginny gritted her teach so hard they almost hurt as much as everything else. She stared at Sirius's lying form helplessly from afar, then shifted her eyes back to Harry who now had a tired-looking Remus guarding him from shaking his godfather awake.
She gave a defeated sigh and let the school matron lead her to bed, sleep consuming her instantly no matter how hard she fought it.
----—----
It's been almost a week. A week. And Sirius still hasn't woken.
Ginny was finally discharged after four days; Madam Pomfrey casted final charms to fully mend her ankle and prescribed her with the Potion for Dreamless Sleep to help her with her shock and nightmares.
Ron and Neville had to stay for two more nights, and Hermione for another week—the curse Dolohov had used on her, though less effective than it would have been had he been able to say the incantation aloud (Hermione had cast a Silencing Charm on him before he attacked), had nevertheless caused, in Madam Pomfrey’s words, “quite enough damage to be going on with.” Hermione was having to take ten different types of potion every day and although she was improving greatly, was already bored with the hospital wing.
This gave Ginny every excuse to drop by everyday without fail. She brought everyone Honeydukes sweets, some pastries from Dobby, and fresh flowers for Sirius's bedside. She's also piled his stash of Pumpkin Pasties so much that she heard one of the healers attending to him scoff in disdain.
"If the rebound curse won't kill him, those sweets will, deary," said the healer in disapproval.
But Ginny didn't care, of course, she merely hid the stash under his bed, away from prying eyes. He would thank her when he woke up. For a laugh (more for her than anyone, really), she also hoarded volumes of The Quibbler from Luna, specifically the editions flooded with speculations of Sirius being the innocent singing sensation Stubby Boardman, lead of the band The Hobogoblins.
"You have to wake up now," she told his sleeping form, making sure to sound as miffed as she possibly could. Dumbledore said that talking to him might help, although she suspected he only said so for Ginny's sake. She sat on the edge of his bed one Hogsmeade morning. She barely went anywhere besides the hospital wing these days—despite Dean Thomas's efforts in coaxing her a trip to the Three Broomsticks. "You haven't even seen me play Seeker, Stubby, what happens when your godson takes it back next term?"
But she was only met with Sirius's steady breathing. Which was a good thing, at least is what the healers from St. Mungo's said. The collision that the Killing Curse and the prophecy made was enough to block the curse's intentions, but was able to emit some kind of stunning aftermath, knocking Sirius out cold. She remembered when they all thought him dead, Harry shaking with fury as he dashed out of the Death Chamber after Bellatrix Lestrange.
"You should've seen him, Stubby," she whispered, her eyes roaming all over Sirius's pale, gaunt face. "He looked like he would've killed for you."
She thought she saw a hitch in his breathing, a change so subtle that she held her own. But the following breaths after that were as steady as it had bin, making her convince herself it was only her hopeful imagination.
"Ginny?"
She was so focused on studying Sirius's breathing that she didn't hear privacy curtain open behind her.
Harry Potter, skinny, pale, and hair mussed up as ever, stood awkwardly by the foot of his godfather's bed, his hands holding a bowl of what smelled like onion soup with sides of sliced bread. His glasses were askew and misty from the spring wind and he looked like he just shimmied out of bed and put on the first jumper he saw, because he was wearing one with a big 'R' on his chest.
It was then that Ginny realized that she hasn't seen much of Sirius's godson in the long period that he's been lying in the hospital wing. Every time she visited, even when the others were still around, Harry would've already left to god-knows-where, or she would have had classes and missed running into him. Even sightings in the common room or at the Great Hall were rare.
It's not as if you've been avoiding him, Ginny thought to herself as she stood up to leave, it's just bad timing is all.
"Harry," she smiled at him and nodded at his bowl of soup, "That for the dog?"
He gave out a laugh that made her insides thump erratically. She hasn't seen a smile on his face for so long and she's missed it terribly.
"Yeah," he said with a small smile, and looked at Sirius. "Looks like he's not hungry still."
His smile still held its place but his eyes were almost cheerless.
Crossing her arms dramatically, Ginny turned to glare at the benumbed form before them, "Hear that, Stubby? Your godson's been bringing you breakfast and this is how you repay him?"
Again, they were met with silence and she heard Harry chuckle, "Maybe that'll work," he said, "I've been spitting praises all over to try to get him to wake."
She rolled her eyes, "Don't spoil him," she warned although she smiled fondly down at Sirius, "he might be enjoying it too much."
Harry let out a tiny laugh once again, making her warm all over. She loved seeing him not brooding. It was a rare sight this term, and now that Umbridge was gone, she hoped she'd see more of it.
"Well," she started as she scanned the floor for her book bag, "I'll leave you with the rascal then—"
"You don't have to leave," said Harry and she looked up at him to meet his alarmed gaze. "Really, Ginny I—," he stammered, "you don't have to go."
Ginny stared at him worryingly, "Are you sure? You don't have any secrets to talk about?"
He chuckled, "Yes. I mean no. No—we— I have no secrets," he was surely flushing now, and Ginny sniggered.
"Well alright then," she said, hoisting herself back up on the edge of Sirius's bed. "Is that onion soup I smell? Haven’t had breakfast."
Harry sighed with relief and rounded the bed, grabbing two spoons from his godfather's bedside drawer and sagged down the chair beside Ginny's legs. They sipped the onion soup in silence for a few minutes before Harry cleared his throat and glanced up at her.
"I—," his face was red and she was sure it was because of the soup, "I never got to thank you."
Ginny raised her eyebrows at him questioningly before slurping loudly from her spoon. Harry burst out laughing.
She grinned cheekily at him, legs swinging back and forth on the edge of the bed, "What for?"
He shook his head, "What do you mean 'what for?' You saved Sirius."
It was Ginny’s turn to look embarrassed. Seeing as this was the first time they were actually talking about what happened at the Ministry (the first time talking at all after the Ministry), the subject of the prophecy that Ginny so careless sent flying (quite literally) was never mentioned, not even by the others. She didn't think anybody even knew about it—apart from Harry and Neville and other members of the Order present in the Death Chamber. She had little thought for it, all her worries focused on her friends and her brother getting better.
"Barely," replied Ginny, shrugging nonchalantly at the boy in front of her. "To be honest, I could've thrown something more durable," Harry laughed at this, "but balls are the only thing I'm good at aiming with and that was the closest thing." She frowned after a thought, "To be honest, I wasn't thinking at all."
Harry shook his head again and looked at her with something she could've described as awe, "Well I'm glad you didn't think," he said and a hint of despair flashed in his eyes, although quickly appeased. "I don't even want to think about what would've if you did."
They were quiet for a moment, both now focused on Sirius's rhythmic breathing. Ginny chanced a deceitful glance at the boy she so perplexingly pined for for so long. She couldn't deny that her fourth year in Hogwarts drastically changed now that Harry was more to her than just her brother's best friend. She could actually call him her friend. She couldn't believe it took her this long to woman up and finally start talking around him, realizing how much of an awkward bloke he was.
Well, I won't miss out on you anymore, Harry Potter.
She smiled wistfully at the fact that his hair was as unkept as ever, not realizing that her own hand was reaching out in a foolish attempt to tame it...
"Hey, I was thinking!"
Ginny gave a startled jump, Harry's voice slicing through her shameful haze, and reared back her hand so fast that her elbow hit Sirius's knee.
"OW," she yelped, clutching her joint closely.
"Wha— are you okay?"
"What in the—what is this man made of? Steel?" She rubbed her elbow, wincing, and hoped Harry took no notice of her mortifying intentions.
He merely laughed, "No, I don't reckon Sirius is much of a Superman."
"A super what?"
His eyes were full of amusement as he gazed a Ginny's disgruntled face. "Never mind. Listen, what do you think about trying out for Chaser next year?"
She blinked at him.
"Chaser?"
Harry blushed awkwardly and rubbed the back of his neck.
"Yeah I mean—er—I know you're Seeker now," Ginny was smirking now, "but uh, you have really good aim and— well, that's not saying you're not a good Seeker already. I mean— I don't even know if next year's Captain will take me back in if—"
Before Ginny could stop herself, she grabbed a piece of uneaten bread from the meal they just shared and flicked it straight for Harry's face.
It hit him square in between his eyebrows, nudging his round glasses even more askew.
His expression was priceless.
She laughed boisterously at his stunned look. He was gawking at her.
"That aim good enough for you, Potter?"
It took him a beat to recover, a wide playful grin spreading across his face. "Pretty good, Weasley," he admitted, then tapped on his forehead mockingly, "Could definitely use some practice though, you missed the scar."
Nothing but absurd and ridiculous banter issued after that, their conversation flowing with so much ease, that Ginny swore to herself she would never allow her foolish feelings to keep her from Harry ever again.
And if she wasn't so enamored by his breath-taking laughter, she might have noticed the impish ghost of a smirk from the patient lying on the bed.
