The Day Our Paths Crossed (And The Things That Came Of It)

Chapter Thirteen – Eleven-Year-Olds Are Bad At Plotting

"Expelliarmus!"

Harry caught Ginny's wand with his spare hand as Ginny staggered back across the Hearth Room, and they shared a grin. Using magic would never stop feeling good, Harry had decided. And he found defense spells came naturally to him, which made it even better when he managed to beat Ginny to getting a spell down.

"Brilliant!" Ginny exclaimed. "That was fantastic, Harry! I think you've got it down."

"You think?" Harry asked, levitating her wand back over to her.

Ginny nodded earnestly. "It's a real shame the Dueling Club was a sham," she said. "We would have done excellent.

They sat down in the plushy armchairs, where there were two steaming mugs of tea waiting for them – the tea had begun appearing a week or two earlier, when Ginny had made an offhand comment about how it would be nice to have a cuppa, and, when they stopped practicing their wandwork, two cups of tea had miraculously appeared. Harry's best explanation was magic. The Dursleys had only ever let him have tea to keep up appearances for guests; it was a treat to which Harry was happy to become accustomed.

"I think you mean Lockheart is a sham," Harry said, taking a sip.

"He's a fraud, that's what he is," Ginny declared. "We've learned nothing all year! The class is a joke – you know they say the position is cursed, right? Apparently last year's professor died. I was so afraid that I would be behind because I don't have all the books, but it turns out it doesn't even matter."

Harry frowned. "You don't have all the books?"

Ginny clammed up; she paled, like she'd said something wrong, and withdrew into herself. "I thought you noticed," she mumbled.

"I didn't. Why didn't you tell me? I would have let you use mine."

Shame colored Ginny's face, such a foreign expression it took a few seconds to register with Harry. "We're poor, Harry," she told him, shrugging. "Lockheart's books are expensive, and we had to get the full set for five kids, and I needed a wand too. We got three full sets, I think, and then some ratty old second-hand ones – I got a full set and Ronald got the second-hand ones, but I forced him to switch with me because-"

Harry leaned forward. "Because?"

Ginny sighed, looking up at the ceiling with a desolate expression. "Well, he'd just risked his life, hadn't he?" she said. "And Mum still wouldn't give him any extra attention. He was awfully pissy about it all summer and I… He was the one who needed the defense training, I figured, and he was the one stuck with the awful books. That, and…" She blushed. "I knew Harry Potter was in my year, and I thought you would protect me."

"Me?" Harry echoed. "Why me? I didn't even know about magic."

Ginny mumbled something under her breath.

"What?"

"Imighthavehadacrushonyou."

"What?"

"I said I might have had a crush on you!" Ginny exclaimed, blushing deeper. "It was stupid. I had all these books about Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, going on all these adventures, but when I met you you were nothing like it said in the books. And I thought I would marry you, but that was book you. I- I like the real you much better."

Harry blinked stupidly. "Nobody's ever had a crush on me before."

"Well, I did," Ginny said. "So deal with it."

A dangerous question crossed Harry's mind. He asked it before he had a chance to think better of it.

"Um, Gin? You don't still have a crush on me, do you?"

Now Harry was blushing too, and Ginny's face flamed red beneath her freckles. They sat next to each other in matching armchairs, neither able to meet the other's eyes. Ginny hurriedly shook her head, kneading her knuckles into her knees. "No," she whispered. "I'm sorry. Or I'm not sorry. I don't know. You're- You're Harry. My best friend. Also I don't wanna kiss anyone for real, I don't think. It's kinda icky. Mum says I'll like it when I'm older, but right now…" She trailed off.

"Oh. Good," Harry said, scratching an ear. "Me too. Can we talk about something else now?"

"Please."

Turning his wand over in his hands, Harry said, "I think I know who's got all the Slytherins thinking I'm the Heir. But I need you to promise you won't freak out."

Ginny sat up straighter, casting off her embarrassment, clutching her wand. "Who?"

"I'm pretty sure that it was Cleo," said Harry. "But I think she was-"

Too late. There was fire in Ginny's eyes, and she'd already sprung to her feat. "Her," she hissed, stalking to the door. "I'm gonna give her a piece of my mind!"

"Ginny, wait!"

"Cleodie Moorshade! Get over here right now!" Ginny bellowed, stalking across the field toward the Great Lake.

She freaked out, Harry sighed to himself.

Cleo stood in the middle of a gaggle of third-year Ravenclaw girls, happily gossiping with the older students like she were one of them, her long brown hair done up in a bun with her usual yellow scrunchies around her wrist. As Ginny stalked toward her, Cleo excused herself from the huddle and walked over, waving at Ginny with a hesitant smile.

"Hi, Ginny. Hi, Harry." Cleo's smile turned even more nervous when Ginny growled. "Um… What's up?"

"What. Did. You. Do."

"Um…" Harry stepped in between them, trying to be diplomatic. "I think what Gin's trying to say is, erm, we've been having some strange conversations with the Slytherins, and since you're the only Slytherin we actually like, we figured that you would know something."

Cleo smiled in the same way Ginny did when she thought she was smarter than someone else. "So what if I do?"

"Harry's being too nice," Ginny snapped. "What he means to ask is why does half your house think he's the Heir of Slytherin?!"

To Ginny's fury, Cleo gave a nonchalant shrug. "It makes sense, doesn't it? Slytherin spoke Parseltongue, and so does Harry. The fact that Ginny speaks Parseltongue now too suggests that Harry did something, even though nobody can say what. Besides, Slytherins protect their own. A right word into an ear here and there goes a long way to stopping harassment."

"Oh, yeah? You think you stopped us from getting harassed?" Ginny stepped in and glared at Cleo. "Explain Malfoy roughing Harry up in the halls."

Cleo's eyes widened, then narrowed. "That git."

"You're spreading lies about us, Cleo," Ginny said. "We don't want that. I don't know what game you're playing, but neither of us want to be painted as the Heir of Slytherin! We're Gryffindors. I'm not a blood purist. Do you know the nonsense Harper was spreading about us getting the proper teachings?"

Harry held his tongue. He didn't want to be a blood purist either, that was for sure. But he hadn't forgotten what Selwyn had said about his family, about a tutor. What did his family used to be? What tutoring did he need?

"I know that," Cleo said, rolling her eyes. "Don't you see what a benefit it is having Slytherins in your corner, though? He's Harry Potter – he's going to have enemies, and I would think anything you could do to make that situation less… delicate would be for the best. You don't have to act on it. That's the thing about purebloods – you don't have to act on your blood to have it. The worst they could do is declare you a blood traitor, and you're clearly doing fine with that, Ginny."

Ginny's scowl deepened. "So what? You're trying to get Malfoy to treat Harry like some sort of pureblood prince? Is that your game? What's the point? He's half-blood, remember? We don't want your nonsense."

Harry groaned, looking back at the Ravenclaw third-years. They were watching their conversation with interest, whispering to each other, looking right back at Harry with unapologetic eyes. Wizards make less sense than Muggles, he decided. I don't understand half of what they're saying to each other.

"I'm trying to make Harry more than persona non grata in Slytherin," Cleo shot back. "Do you think we want to be Malfoy's lackeys for the next five and a half years? I have Claire's ear and Bryce's pride isn't so far gone that he can't be won back from Malfoy. Harry is our ticket out of his pocket. Besides, now we don't have to pretend not to like each other anymore!"

"Pretend?" Harry asked. "Seemed pretty convincing to me."

Now Harry and Ginny were both glaring at Cleo, who seemed taken aback. "What?" she asked. "Don't you get it? I've fixed everything! Now we can be friends again."

"Why would we want to be friends again after what you've done?" Ginny snapped. "Why should we play your slimy Slytherin games?"

Cleo flinched, stepping back like she'd been struck. "But-" she said.

"Ginny," Harry said sharply, before Ginny could hurt Cleo more. "Look, Cleo. I don't really get what the point of all of this was. But I dunno. Maybe Ginny's right. I never had any friends before Hogwarts, because any time somebody got too close to me they decided they didn't want to be around me anymore. I guess after I made friends with Ginny I realized they were never my friends in the first place. What you're talking about… I don't think that's how friendship ought to work."

"Didn't you get the ring, though?" Cleo asked, a note of desperation entering her tone.

Ginny was ready to protest, but Harry drew the ring from his pocket and held it up to the light. The silver snake with green emerald eyes gleamed. "It was the nicest gift I ever got," he told her honestly. "But I can't wear this, or they'll think I've gone mad. Or, worse, that you're right."

"No, no! It's a ring of friendship," Cleo said hurriedly. "You wear it on your index finger – it represents your status, yes, and any Slytherin would recognize it as a confirmation that you are the Heir. But because I gave it to you it also shows that I'm acknowledging you and showing my allyship. And the wrapping paper – the tulips – they were an apology. Also I thought the emeralds matched your eyes nicely."

"We were supposed to pay attention to the bloody wrapping paper?" Ginny exclaimed.

"Cleo," Harry repeated. "I can't wear it."

"No, you have to!" Cleo looked genuinely upset. "If you reject it it's like… it's bad. You would be rejecting me, my friendship, and I don't have very many real friends." She cast about for anything to support her point. "You don't have to wear it all the time! And- And- I even got it enchanted so you can hide it. Didn't you know? I figured you would know."

She hurried over and took the ring off Harry's palm. Harry let Cleo slide the ring onto his index finger. Cleo drew her wand – beech wood – and tapped the ring, and the ring disappeared. "Oh, right," Harry said in a funny voice. "Of course the ring disappears when you tap it. How could I have possibly known that when you didn't even leave a note saying who the ring was from?"

"Everyone knows that," Cleo blurted. "All the nice rings can be hidden. Hiding your allegiances is important. Plus, don't you have your Potter ring on?"

"My what?" Harry asked.

"I didn't know that," Ginny said. "How was he supposed to?"

"I was raised by Muggles, Cleo!"

"Okay, okay!" Cleo exclaimed. "I get it! I was stupid! But I don't regret helping you and my house, and I won't take it back. Harry, that ring is yours now."

Harry touched his finger, where his new ring sat snug and invisible. He didn't know what to feel. Shaking a little, he looked up and met Cleo's eyes, taking a deep breath. "I'm not the Heir of Slytherin," he said quietly. "And I don't like being compared to the monster who is. I think you should go now."

Cleo gulped. "Harry?"

"Not forever," Harry said. "But I don't want friends who do things like this without telling us. Next time you want to pretend we're not friends, either we can pretend together, or we can not be friends."

"Oh."

"C'mon, Harry," Ginny said, grabbing his hand. "Let's go."

They walked off together. Harry chanced a look back over his shoulder. Cleo stood where they'd left her, tears welling in her eyes, clutching her wrist, looking as lost as anyone he'd ever seen. Looking down, she wandered away.

He was too angry with her to feel bad in that moment. But he didn't take Cleo's ring off, either.

Harry's dreams were dark and disturbed that night. He dreamed about snakes and blood and fire, strange passages beneath the school, mysteries and shadows, friends who weren't friends and enemies who didn't hate him as much as it seemed. One moment he was in his cupboard; the next, floating high above Hogwarts on a broom, watching a Quidditch match.

"Harry?"

Harry turned around. He was in a strange white void, and Ginny stood beside him. She looked confused. "Ginny?" Harry echoed.

"Where are we?" Ginny asked. "Why does this feel real?"

It did feel real, Harry realized. He stared down at his hands – the ring was visible around his finger, and his scar hurt.

"Well, now what do we have here?" Out of the void, out of nowhere, a dark haired boy, older than Harry and Ginny, stepped into existence, training his dark gaze on the two of them. Ginny yelped in horror, shrinking back to Harry's side. "Hello, Ginerva," the boy said in a slick tone, something oily and dark beneath the surface. "I have so missed our little talks. Such a shame we had to put them on… pause."

Ginny trembled. Harry wrapped a protective arm around her shoulder. "What is this?" he exclaimed. "Who are you?"

Tom Riddle turned his gaze on Harry and gave him a dark smile. "Hello, Harry Potter," he said. "You aren't supposed to be here."

[A/N] It was Cleo's ring, of course, and Cleo is living in her pureblood subculture that's rather different from anything Harry – or Ginny – understands. It'll take more than an explanation for them to reconcile. Also Ginny's crush is mostly gone. Most children's crushes are built more on fantasy than anything the other person actually does – being best friends tends to disabuse most of those notions. There will not be romance in this story for a while, until the characters are older. I'll be playing around with pureblood culture, but it won't become the focus of the story.

I love cliffhangers. Tom's got an agenda…

Thanks to Vanessa de Boom, Illythir, scrappy8, RebeccaRoy, triggbc, smallwjl, nesciamema, Godricshelm, TheWateringWizard, and one guest for reviewing! One hundred reviews! You guys are the best!

Keep on reading and reviewing! I'll see everyone next chapter.

Cheers, Allie