Chapter Eight: Other Uses for Invisibility Cloaks

Once again Ginny found herself inside the Headmaster's office, with its dark wood furnishings, portraits of past Headmasters staring haughtily down at her, the figure of the current Headmaster sitting behind his great desk, his eyes twinkling through half-moon spectacles. Harry had insisted that they go see Dumbledore immediately and tell them what Dobby had seen the previous day. Dumbledore, to his credit, seemed to take Harry's accusations in stride, much more so than Ginny would have, if the roles had been reversed. Ginny knew that Harry was acting more on his past hatred of Draco Malfoy, and that was guiding his judgment. It just didn't make sense, Ginny thought, for Malfoy to have planted the dagger in the cupboard, there were too many variables in the equation that could've gone wrong. He couldn't have known Voldemort was controlling her, he couldn't have known she'd end up in the Headmaster's office that day.

Dumbledore listened intently, his spectacles glinting in the firelight, nodding his head every so often, until Harry had finished.

"Harry," Dumbledore said at last. "I don't believe Young Malfoy planted the dagger."

Harry looked incredulous. "You don't? But…why?" he asked.

Dumbledore heaved a great sigh, "That's an answer I cannot give you just yet, Harry. You must trust me." Harry started to protest, but Dumbledore held up a hand. "I know trust isn't easy, especially when there is a loved one involved," he said solemnly and Ginny blushed at the glance Dumbledore gave her. "But I must ask that you try, Harry." Harry stared at the Headmaster for a moment, just before nodding his head silently. Dumbledore turned to Ginny, his blue eyes now twinkling with merriment. "And while we are on the subject of Young Malfoy—Miss Weasley, I'm sure you will be pleased to know that the spell you used on him has completely worn off. That was a powerful curse, though its effects were more humiliating than dangerous." Ginny could've sworn that Dumbledore chuckled. She felt the urge to laugh as well, but one look at Harry told her that he was not amused by the news, despite the fact that he had once thought Malfoy's predicament especially humorous. Harry was standing ramrod straight, his green eyes piercing into Dumbledore as though in hopes that if he stared hard and long enough, he would have the answers he needed. Dumbledore stared back at Harry, just before casually dismissing them with a wave. "I believe it's almost time for dinner, Harry, Miss Weasley. And there's a delightful custard tart that's on the menu tonight that I've been craving all week. I dare not be late, since I know Professor Snape also has a fondness for them as well, and the last time he nearly ate the entire bowl, before I had so much as taken a bite of one."

Ginny, taking the hint, literally dragged Harry to the door. "Thank you Professor," she called out, just before Harry almost slammed the door behind them.

"Harry?" She could practically feel the anger radiating from him, and his hand grasped hers in such a tight grip that her knuckles cracked. "Harry—what is it?"

"I'm just so sick of him!" Harry swore violently. "He always does this to me, Ginny! He never, ever gives me a straight answer! Never! He always knows more than he lets on, and tries to play God while innocent people get hurt!"

Ginny was absolutely shocked. She'd never, ever heard anyone, especially Harry, speak of Dumbledore in such a way. While she worked out a reply to that, Harry continued speaking in a harsh tone, pulling her behind him as he marched down the corridor back to the Gryffindor common room.

"I can't believe that he can stand there and tell me that he trusts Malfoy, after all that family has done to me—to yours! Even after all the evidence that I gave him! I can't stand this, Ginny! I won't!"

"Harry, please! I don't like the Malfoys any better than you do, but you've got to admit, you don't have much proof—"

"I have all the proof that is needed!" Harry snarled, his eyes flashing. "I know he's behind this, he's always been behind this. And he—" Harry gestured back towards Dumbledore's office—"he tells me that I'm just to sit and wait for them! NO!"

"Harry!" Ginny said harshly, jerking on his arm so roughly she was sure she'd pulled it off. "Harry, just think about what you're saying! Dumbledore is obviously trying to protect you!"

"Meanwhile, he's not doing a damn thing to protect you!"

Ginny straightened up to her full height, "I'm not the one Voldemort is after, Harry. You can't go after Malfoy, no matter what you think he's guilty of! Promise me!" Her voice shook with anger and raw emotion. "Promise me, Harry!" Moments passed silently as each glared at the other, furious brown eyes meeting a sparking green. Taking his silence for consent, Ginny added, "And Ron doesn't know about any of this, do you hear? I don't want him to know about this!" Harry looked as though he might balk at this demand, but Ginny was too determined. "No Harry! Ron is not to know about any of this!" Ginny would be damned if she had to worry about her hot-headed brother going after Malfoy in addition to Harry. While Harry at least could be a tiny be reasonable when in a temper, Ron was not—always the type to curse first and ask questions later.

"Come on then, let's go," Harry said finally.

"Not until you say it Harry," Ginny replied. "Promise me."

He pursed his lips, then nodded. "Ok, I won't go after Malfoy. And I won't tell Ron. Ok?" Ginny didn't move an inch. Harry threw up his hands in exasperation. "Damnit! I promise!"

****

Harry was as good as his word it seemed. For the next few days, Ginny waited, suspecting all the while that he had told Ron, and she lived in a state of fear that Ron was going to do something to Malfoy in retaliation. But Harry kept his promise, although from the heated glances he cast her every so often, she knew that he was not happy about it at all. Then there were the other looks he gave her, glances that spoke volumes, intent gazes that set Ginny's heart pounding. They hadn't been alone since that Saturday, hadn't spoken more than a few words since Harry made his promise in the corridor leading up to the Gryffindor Tower. And to be completely honest with herself, Ginny wasn't too sure that she wanted to be alone with Harry, crazy though it may seem. She felt foolish, like a child that had been handed the Christmas present it had always wanted, but didn't know how to open it. Ginny noted that Harry must have felt something similar, as he too, seemed as though he were tip-toeing around her, never doing anything more than holding her hand as he walked her to breakfast in the mornings, or brushing up against her in the hallways as they passed going from one class to the other.

Apparently the others had noticed that things were not as they should be between Harry and herself, as Ron pointed this out to her over a game of chess one evening.

"So what's up with you two?" he asked casually, his hawk-like gaze watching her make her next move. Ginny ordered her knight two spaces to the left, putting Ron's bishop in danger.

"What do you mean?" she asked, waiting until he was pondering his next move, in efforts to throw him off.

"Come off it, Gin. You know what I mean," he replied, rolling his eyes in a way that reminded Ginny of Hermione. She bit her lip as she glanced over to the sofa where Hermione was tutoring Neville on Potions, while Harry sat next to her, scribbling furiously on parchment while a thick tome was balanced precariously on his knee. As though sensing her eyes on him, he looked up and Ginny blushed and quickly turned back towards the chess game, watching Ron's pawn taunt one of hers. She heard a crash, and sneaked another glimpse from the corner of her eyes, to see Harry bend over to pick up the heavy volume that apparently had fallen from its perch.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I mean," Ron said, sitting back and folding his arms across his chest. "You two have been walking on glass around each other for days now. What's the problem, eh? You've both been in love with each other for years—you've been in love with him since you were eleven! And he's been in love with you for over a year now—what's the bloody problem?"

Ginny was in shock. "How did you know that?" she whispered, so that only Ron would hear her. The chess pieces were now leaning forwards intently, making no secret that they were hanging on every word said. Ginny ignored them.

"Bah, it was so obvious!" Ron said with the air of someone who knew all the world's deepest secrets. "And people said I was thick about Hermione? Please, it was obvious how he felt about you…well, to everyone but you, that is. And him."

Ginny digested this for a moment. Then, suddenly deciding that she did not want to talk about this with her brother, she changed the subject to another topic, one that had been on her mind for days.

"Ron, how did Harry get that bruise on his cheek?"

Ron sat back, clearly startled by her abrupt question. Ginny could literally see the cranks in his head turning, thinking about what he should or shouldn't tell her. "Did you hit him?"

"No, no. I…I did hit him, but it wasn't because…it was because…because…" Ron shot a furtive glance at Harry. "That night, Harry went a bit…mad. He…uh…he sorta lost control." Ron swallowed and began to fidget nervously, shifting around on the bench, playing with the end of a quill that had been left by a student. Lost control? How? Ginny continued to gape at her brother, who shifted uncomfortably under the intense gaze. "Look Ginny, that's all I'm going to say, alright?" Ron got up and went upstairs, grabbing his broomstick on his way and hoisting it over his shoulder. Ginny sat at the chess table a moment longer, trying not to look at Harry. What did Ron mean?

"Hey."

Ginny jumped as Harry sat down next to her. She'd been so lost in her thoughts, she hadn't heard him come up. "Hi," she said.

"Did you win the game? Ron's always been a sore loser," Harry said, a small smile teasing the corner of his lips. "Mind you, I've never beaten him, you're the only one who's been able to last longer than five minutes against him."

"No, we…we…just got tired of playing," she said, finally meeting his eyes. The bluish bruise on his cheek had almost completely disappeared, but Ginny couldn't help but stare at the faint impression left. What had happened that evening for her brother to hit his best friend?

"Oh," Harry said. This was ridiculous, thought Ginny. Ron was right, what was their bloody problem? They were obviously in love with each other, Ginny could see it in his eyes, knew her own reflected the same emotion. She waited for him to make the next move.

"Well, then," Harry sighed. "I'll be off. Goodnight." Ginny sighed as she watched him leave. Tomorrow, she thought, tomorrow she'd have to do something, or else they'd be trapped in limbo forever.

****

"Ginny? Ginny, wake up!"

"Mmmmm…." Ginny rolled over and hugged her pillow to her, ignoring the sensation of someone standing over her.

"Ginny!" A voice whispered furiously. Ginny felt herself being poked in her side. As she was extremely ticklish, this was an effective wake up.

"Wha--?" she asked as she blinked sleepily, rising up to stare out in the darkness of her bed. A quick glance at the bedside table showed that it was barely three am. She turned and plumped up her pillow, clearly intending to go back to sleep. She never got the chance.

"Scoot over!" Harry's voice whispered in her ear.

"Harry?" Ginny blinked in the darkness trying to make out his form.

"Shhh!! You wanna wake the whole dormitory? Now scoot over, it's cold out here!"

Ginny sleepily obeyed, and watched amazed as she felt a large body stretch out on the bed next too her. There was an imprint of a head laying on the pillow next too her.

"What are you doing here?" she asked the invisible Harry.

"I wanted to talk to you."

"Now?" she whispered. "Why?"

"Well, I haven't had much time to see you, have I?" came Harry's voice in a warm gush of air that made Ginny's heartbeat increase. "I've only seen you in the hallways, and at meals, and well…tonight…." his voice trailed off. Ginny felt a pair of arms wrap around her and pull her closer to him, despite the fact that he was resting above the warm covers and she was below them. "You should appreciate my efforts," he chuckled. "I had to make a deal with your brother to come here."

"What sort of deal?"

"Ron'll pretend to look the other way when I use this to visit you as long as I continue to let him use it to visit the Head Girl in that nice big, comfy room she has all to herself." Ginny could feel Harry nuzzle the whips of hair that escaped from her plait and curled around her cheek, and she couldn't help but snuggle closer to him.

"I really didn't need to hear about that," Ginny replied, not wanting to think of what Ron used the cloak to do.

Harry chuckled again. "Didn't think you would. This is nice by the way," he added hugging her closer.

"Very nice. Somehow I don't think this is what your father had in mind when he left this to you," she gently chided, reaching out to feel the edge of the invisibility cloak. "I thought you said that Dumbledore told you that your dad used it to nick food from the kitchens."

"Nah, that was a lie, I bet. According to Sirius, this was it's main purpose. I certainly can't think of a better one, can you?" Harry teased.

"Nooo," she said slowly, "but can't you take it off now?" It was rather hard to have a conversation with an invisible Harry and Ginny wasn't too positive she wasn't dreaming the whole thing up.

"I can't. I might have to make a quick exit," Harry sighed.

Ginny's brow furrowed. "What's wrong Harry? Something's wrong."

Warm lips traced a path down the side of her face, finally resting just below her ear. "My scar hurt me tonight. More than usual. It woke me up and I wanted to come check on you."

"Harry, you've got to go tell Dumbledore. Right now!" Ginny said, nudging him with her elbow to get him to move.

"I will tomorrow," he agreed. He changed the subject. "It's hard, this being in love thing, isn't it?"

Ginny wasn't fooled by his change of subject. "Harry, this is serious! You have to go to Dumbledore."

She felt him caress her cheek. "Shhh…I will. First thing tomorrow." Ginny narrowed her eyes at the pillow his head was on.

"This is hard," she said at last, in reply to his first question.

"You won't let me flounder around like Ron did with Hermione when they first started out, will you?"

Ginny giggled. "I'll try not too." Her brother Ron had a hell of a time with Hermione in their first year as a couple.

"You'd think someone would have written at least one book on the subject," Harry muttered dejectedly.

"Well, when we get out of here, we'll have to convince Dumbledore to let us teach a class on it. We should have this figured out by then." She snuggled up closer to him, laying her head on what she thought was his chest, his heart beat strong under her ear.

"God, I hope so," he sighed deeply.

Ginny drew a deep breath, screwed up her courage, leaned back, and finally asked the one question that had been plaguing her. "Shouldn't you've kissed me by now?"

She felt Harry freeze. Ok, so maybe not, she thought.

"I just did," Harry said. "Right here, in fact." Ginny felt him run a fingertip down the side of her cheek where he had just trailed kisses.

Ginny glared at the pillow where Harry's head was resting. "I mean a real kiss, you dunderhead."

Harry silently shook with suppressed laughter. "You have no idea how I've wanted to….but…well I…I guess I was waiting for the right moment."

"Oh." She pondered that for a second, biting her lip. "Do you think this might be the right moment?"

"Do you want me to kiss you?" he asked, as if that wasn't obvious enough.

"Well if you think it's such a chore, Harry Potter, then please do not bother," she hissed.

"Shhhhh! I was joking!" Ginny felt him push her onto her back, pressing her into the mattress, leaning over her, his lips mere inches from her own.

"Wait you idiot! I want to see you!" Ginny tugged at the invisibility cloak, revealing Harry's head and torso. His black hair was tousled, dark strands flying in all directions. She happened to glance down, staring at where the moonlight bounced off his chest. "Harry!" she choked out, feeling heat rush to her face as she stared unabashedly at Harry's naked chest in the strip of light peeking through the curtains. "Are you—?"

"No!" he exclaimed hurriedly, following the direction of her gaze. "No, silly, I've got on the bottoms, see?" Harry stuck out a pyjama-clad leg and wiggled his toes.

"Oh, thank God!" she cried, relieved at this point to not have to deal with a naked Harry. She started laughing uncontrollably at the hilarity of the situation. Not that she didn't mind his chest, she thought.

"Will you hush! You're gonna get us caught! Do you want me to kiss you or not?" Harry definitely did not appreciate her humor.

"I'm sorry!" she said to placate him. "It's just funny. I'm ready now for my kiss," she gasped, biting her lip in order to control the giggles.

Harry, his face now intent, slowly angled his lips over hers. Their first kiss was rather ticklely, as Ginny had not completely stopped giggling.

Harry drew back, flustered. "Ginny!"

"I'm sorry, sorry!" Ginny quickly raised up, closed her eyes and meshed their mouths together. Blood pounded in her ears, making white dots dance behind her eyelids. When they separated a few minutes later, she uttered, "Wow."

"Mmmmm." It was Harry's turn to chuckle. "A nice start, I'd say," he added, kissing her deeply again, his fingers trapped in her red hair, holding her still. A loud snort coming from one of the other beds broke them apart.

"I'd better go before someone wakes up," he whispered raggedly, gasping for breath.

Ginny pulled the cloak back over Harry's head, not breathing too easily herself. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Absolutely!" He gave her one last quick kiss and disappeared.

~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Thanks for reading everyone!