Destiny Reversed

Chapter 11 Halloween

"Grawp?" Ginny asked, confused.

"Er –Muggle term I picked up." Harry said quickly, inwardly cursing at his mistake.

"From your mum?"

"Yeah."

An awkward silence followed this, almost as if Ginny could sense that her boyfriend wasn't being entirely truthful. This made Harry extremely uncomfortable; if Ginny –or anyone else, for that matter –were to discover his secret, he'd rather it'd be on his terms. Otherwise, he may have a lot of misunderstandings on his hands.

"What's up with you, Violet, and Neville?" Ginny asked suddenly, catching Harry off guard.

"Er –nothing. Why?"

"They've been glaring at us ever since we got in line. Doesn't look like nothing to me."

"Got in a little spat, is all."

"Bollocks, Harry. I've known the three of you for a long time –and that is not a little spat."

"I don't want to talk about it," Harry snapped, wishing Ginny would just let this go and enjoy the Hogsmede weekend with him.

Ginny frowned, but didn't press the matter any further. Their windswept faces red, the couple made their way to Honeydukes, and once they left, they were both in a considerably better mood. Ginny was smiling now as she acted as if she were about to eat her Cockroach Cluster.

"Reckon we should give this to Ron?" she suggested, eyes dancing mischievously.

Harry nodded in response, his stomach doing a flip as he recognized something of his Ginny in this one.

Ginny regarded him with a strange look on her face. "Harry? You okay?"

"Er –yeah. Just fine. Let's go to Three Broomsticks for a butterbeer, shall we?"

"Okay,"

As usual, the Three Broomsticks was crowded with both students and teachers alike, laughing, talking, and drinking, temporarily free of worries concerning the war that was raging on outside of their little haven. As Harry and Ginny joined their ranks, Harry wasn't surprised to find Ron and Lavender there as well, snogging. However, Ron apparently had some sort of Harry radar, because he looked up the moment they stepped in and glared fiercely at their held hands.

"Oh honestly," Ginny said, clearly exasperated with her brother's consistent immaturity. "I'll grab us a table."

Apparently Harry always did the paying. "Two butterbeers, please," he said to Madame Rosmerta.

"Coming right up, hon," she said, rapidly exchanging two bottles for Harry's galleon. "Enjoy, it's a lovely day."

Harry looked out the window. It was a nice day, actually. Earlier it'd been windy and slightly overcast, but now the sun was shining merrily, and this made Harry smile. The last time there'd been this good of weather had been at Professor Dumbledore's funeral.

"Thanks, Harry," Ginny said, sipping her butterbeer and smiling at him. Then, she did something Harry didn't expect –she leaned in and pecked Harry on the mouth with her sticky –and delicious –lips.

Blushing profusely but trying hard to act nonchalant about it, Harry wasn't sure what to make of this. Well, she was his girlfriend, but it was just so oddly normal. He wanted to tell Ginny how beautiful she was, how amazing and brave she had been during that night in the Department of Mysteries, though she shouldn't have gone with him in the first place . . .

But then he remembered that this Ginny hadn't gone with him. This Ginny wasn't the same –she was close, but not a copy. Harry felt disgusted with the idea of ever making a copy of the Ginny he knew. Suddenly he felt very fake, snogging this Other Ginny. He felt unfaithful, disloyal, even if they had broken up in his world.