Chapter Seven: Witch Weekly

Lee Jordan woke up with a mouthful of dreadlocks, an occupational hazard of being one of the coolest wizards in London. He stumbled bleary-eyed into the kitchen of the little flat above Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes in his hot pink boxer shorts and, with a swish of his wand, had the milk pouring onto his bowl of cereal while he casually flicked through the pile of papers and magazines on the kitchen table.

He was particularly intrigued to come across a copy of the latest edition of Witch Weekly, a publication he had grown fond of while living at home with his mother and sisters. Looking about surreptitiously to make sure no one could see him, he began to settle back into his chair to find out more about Witches Who Love Wizards Too Much. He smiled fondly at the glossy magazine, the pictures of beautiful women preening themselves and posing this way and that for the cameras. Any success he’d had with the witches had inevitably come back to little tidbits of information he’d gleaned from hastily purloined back issues of this very publication.

He mused happily for a moment, toying with the idea of seeing his thanks in print in the Letters section signed Lucky In Love, London. The irony of the handle jolted him out of his reverie – he was reminded of the desert his love-life had become. Perhaps resuming his readership of Witch Weekly could be the thing that would turn it all around?

Before he’d really managed to get comfortable, George staggered into the kitchen, similarly attired, and Lee felt compelled to hide the magazine under the table. Neither his imagination nor his reflexes were on fire first thing in the morning.

“Call yourself a wizard,” George smirked as he summoned the box of cereal from the table. “If you really didn’t want me to catch you checking out the pretty witches, you could’ve done better than that.”

Lee laughed at his caution, George must have actually purchased the thing, a level to which he himself would never be caught dead stooping, and why should he when there were so many copies available?

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing buying Witch Weekly, mate?” Lee asked, trying to sound as incredulous as he could.

“Ah,” replied George smugly, “I didn’t buy it, did I? It was a gift.”

Lee laughed out loud. “A gift from who? Your mum?”

“Page four,” George managed to get out through a mouthful of cereal.

Lee obediently flicked to page four only to have his breath taken away by a photograph of the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She rivalled even the two most gorgeous women he knew, Ginny and Fleur, both sadly in love with Weasley men, or honorary Weasley men.

“Who is this?” Lee’s voice hushed to a whisper as he admired the witch’s perfect dark brown hair, piercing chocolate brown eyes and full pink lips.

George pretended to swoon, throwing his forearm dramatically across his brow. “Karina Trilby, the new editor – she’s twenty one.”

Lee looked up at his friend with renewed respect. “And you know her?”

“Well,” said George modestly, “I’m getting to know her.”

“How did you meet her?” Lee mentally kicked himself, he’d always known that Witch Weekly would eventually lead him to happiness.

“Running an errand for that Boy Wonder of ours.”

“For Harry?”

“Yeah, remind me to get him something fantastic for his birthday.”

“Hang on, wait,” Lee’s eyebrows were up near his hairline. “You’re not seriously telling me that there’s something happening between you and her!”

“She was pretty chuffed to meet the owner of Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Karina’s been an owl-order customer of ours for a year. She asked me out for a drink.”

“No way!” Lee’s jaw was practically on the table next to his cereal bowl. “When’s that happening?”

“It’s not,” George said simply.

Lee let out a huge sigh of relief. “Ah, good one mate! You really had me for a while there,” he chuckled.

George smiled sadly. “No mate, I wasn’t joking. She really asked.”

“She really asked and yet somehow you’re not going?” Lee’s disbelief was palpable.

“Nah, too soon.” George looked soberly at the beautiful witch beaming up at him and winking cheekily from the open page.

Lee opened and closed his mouth for a minute but remained silent.

“Did you tell her about Fred?” he asked quietly, once he’d managed to compose himself.

“Yeah, a bit.” George plonked himself in a chair with his bowl of cereal. “I’m doing ok on the whole, but I can’t start going out on dates as if nothing’s happened.” He chuckled quietly. “You can hassle me about it if you have to. Fred wouldn’t have bothered though, he’d have just gone and asked her out himself!”

Lee couldn’t help but laugh at the truth of George’s statement, remembering back to Bill and Fleur’s wedding where Fred had been determined to monopolise the attention of as many of Fleur’s Veela cousins as possible, leaving George to look after the aunts.

“George? Are you in here?” A female voice called from the lounge room.

“Blimey! Is that her? Lee asked, trying to cover as much of himself as possible with the magazine.

George laughed. “No, you lunatic! That’s my sister.”

“Oh, hi George, hi Lee,” Ginny said cheerfully, making her way into the kitchen. “Good to see that it’s all action around here.”

Lee swore under his breath and clasped the magazine more tightly to his bare torso.

“You too, Lee?” Ginny snickered. “I thought our Mum was the only nutter who actually read that rubbish.”

“What? Me read this stuff? No way!” Lee’s attempt to defend himself were amusingly hampered by his determined grip on the glossy rag as he backed out of the kitchen to hide in his bedroom. As far as he was concerned, it was typical that he should get caught in his boxers reading Witch Weekly by the woman who had pierced his unfortunate heart when they’d danced together at her older brother’s wedding. “Good to see you, Ginny, you look great today. Probably see you down in the shop later, eh?”

“Ok, bye Lee.” Ginny laughed as he scrambled into his bedroom and slammed the door.

“What’s with him?” she giggled once he was out of sight.

“He falls apart when confronted by your beauty, my dear sister,” And Ginny joined in with George’s laughter, oblivious to the truth that George knew lay behind his words.

“So, are you picking up Harry’s present today?” George asked while simultaneously holding out the cereal box to offer her some breakfast.

“No thanks, I’ve already eaten because I have to head out straight away to get it this morning. Can I keep it up here until I’m ready to give it to him?” Ginny indicated George’s lack of clothing and laughed. “By the way, are you actually planning on opening the store today?”

“Are you forgetting who’s boss in this equation?”

Ginny pretended to bow obsequiously. “Forgive me, Oh Chief Warlock, Oh Grand Poobah of the Wizard Joke Industry. Now get dressed!”

****

Harry felt suitably chastised after the conversation with Andromeda in which she’d told him about unwittingly exposing him and Ron to Molly Weasley. His main concern, though, was Ginny and the trouble she’d no doubt found herself arriving home to after she’d left his place the previous evening.

He contemplated sending her a note but he couldn’t face another dispiriting run in with Barnaby so he decided to drop in on her at work instead.

“Any excuse,” he laughed to himself as he coaxed Teddy’s yellow-and-green-striped arm through the sleeve of his little t-shirt.

“Alright, my little man. Have we got everything?” Teddy’s nose transformed into a dandelion in reply.

Harry held the little boy tightly to his chest and felt the familiar jerk behind his navel.

****

Ron was fascinated by everything about the aeroplane. Hermione indulged him, and sometimes went out of her way to amaze him by pointing out the air vent or by talking him through the entertainment system in the back of the chair ahead.

While Hermione and her parents managed to get a few hours of sleep, Ron, turning out to be very much his father’s son, was kept wide awake by all the Muggle delights made available to him.

The films were by far his favourite part of the trip and he watched as many as he possibly could, taking in the best movies the year had to offer. His dad had clearly been onto something all this time – Muggles were amazing!

Hermione had chuckled when she’d seen one of the films still listed in the menu.

“Titanic? That was a massive hit last year. I’m surprised that they’re still offering it.”

A couple of hours later, Hermione was rudely awoken by Ron loudly blowing his nose in the darkened plane.

“Oh dear,” she murmured, half-asleep, “I hope you haven’t caught a cold. Lots of people seem to get sick travelling on planes.”

Hermione watched him sleepily as he unfolded himself and got to his feet. Ron clambered out of his cramped seat with surprising dexterity for a man of his size but any impression of coordination was ruined as he hooked his foot in his dangling seatbelt and crashed onto the aisle, waking grumpy passengers all around him.

“Ron! Are you ok?” Hermione whispered. The passengers around stopped grumbling and shifted in their seats, turning around to try and go back to sleep. She began to grow alarmed as she waited for Ron to answer, noticing little shudders wrack his body every few moments as he lay sprawled in the aisle.

Eventually he staggered to his feet and made his way up the plane to the bathroom.

The rolling credits on the screen in front of Ron’s seat caught her eye. She picked up one of the earphones and heard the familiar sounds of too many pan flutes blasting out of them.

She smiled to herself as she heard him making his way back towards their seats. Perhaps Ron’s emotional development had come along much further than she’d imagined.

Hermione giggled quietly to herself as Ron settled back into his seat and rested his head on her shoulder. She stroked his ginger hair to soothe him to sleep, noticing that he’d obviously had to splash his face with cold water to try and hide the evidence.

Just as she thought she heard his breathing deepen and closed her own eyes, she heard Ron murmuring sleepily.

“Hermione, what do you think of the name Rose?”

His snores interrupted her reply.

****

Ginny re-entered the shop after securing Harry’s present in the flat to find George and Harry whispering and gesturing towards another copy of Witch Weekly while Teddy crawled along the counter. So absorbed were they in their conversation that they failed to notice Ginny’s approach.

“Is Witch Weekly featuring the Holyhead Harpies in their underwear or something?”

“Gin!” Harry looked up in surprise and grinned broadly as George quickly vanished the magazine.

Suspicious as she was, Ginny couldn’t help returning Harry’s warm smile and approaching to greet Teddy.

“What are you doing here, Harry? I wasn’t expecting to see you until tomorrow!” A little thrill ran up Harry’s arm as she emphasised her last word by surreptitiously taking his hand and squeezing it.

Harry’s resolves nearly melted on the spot but Ginny had already pulled her hand away and put some distance between them as she reached for a fluffy orange Teddy.

“Oh look, he’s being the Gryffindor lion again for me!”

And sure enough, Teddy’s appearance was adorned by his best attempt at the lion sound-effects that Harry had taught him.

“A lady-killer already,” George murmured to Harry. “Nice work, Godfather!”

Harry ignored him. “Actually, I came to see how you were faring after your Mum ran into Andromeda yesterday. I was going to just send you an owl but if I so much as have to look at Andromeda’s bloody owl again I’ll probably pull his wings off. That bird hates me!” He laughed at the force his own vitriol and lowered his voice, leading Ginny and Teddy out of George’s ear-shot and grinning sheepishly at her. “And I guess I just wanted to see you.”

Ginny blushed prettily.

“So,” Harry coughed, trying to stay task focused, “How’d your mum take it?”

“Well, as you predicted, she went completely mental, but after I mentioned the fact that you and Kingsley were involved, and that Ron planned to be back by your birthday, she started to calm down.”

Harry raised his eyebrows quizzically. “How would the fact that I was involved have helped to calm her?”

Ginny returned his gaze, equally surprised. “Are you serious, Harry? You must know that Mum and Dad trust you completely with all of our lives.”

He shook his head in disbelief. “They do?”

“Harry! I thought I’d convinced you of this the other day at your place! We love you and we trust you, Mum and Dad included,” she laughed. “Almost all of the crazy and dangerous things Ron’s done have been under your direct supervision and he’s been ok so far, hasn’t he?”

“I’m glad you remembered to insert that ‘almost’,” Harry chuckled. “Let’s not forget that Ron has managed a number of acts of courage and stupidity all on his own!”

“True!” Ginny’s smile faded and she began to look a little worried. “When do you think they’ll be back?”

“No idea,” Harry replied. He hadn’t really contemplated the possibility that anything could go wrong. “They’ll be fine, Gin. They’ll probably appear right when we least expect it.”

“I’m sure you’re right, Harry, but their arrival will get me out of trouble and I’m all ready for that.” She looked up at the clock. “Anyway, I’m really sorry but I‘ve been out for most of the morning. I’d better get back to George’s bloody Mandrakes. They’re at that awful stage where they’re trying to renovate and extend their pots. It’s a sure sign that they’re about to start pollinating. See you tomorrow?”

Harry grinned at her and winked, “Mmm, see you then!”

Harry stood rooted to the spot watching Ginny walk out of the store and off into the distance before turning back to find George snickering at him.

“Good to see you finally acting like the mighty wizard we’ve always known you to be, mate!”

“Shut up, George,” Harry responded good-humouredly, returning his focus to the magazine. “Anyway, where were we? Oh yeah, you were telling me how we make sure that it goes to your mum.”

“Well,” said George, blowing on his nails and pretending to polish them on his robes, “That’s the truly impressive part, if I do say so myself.”

****

Lee lay back on his bed, still in his underwear, finally concluding that his secret crush on Ginny would just have to come to an end. There was clearly no competing with Harry Potter.

He flicked absent-mindedly through George’s magazine, pausing briefly to again admire the editor that his flat-mate had befriended. There was no doubt that she was very beautiful, her eyes sparkled attractively as she laughed silently up at him from the magazine before walking out of the picture.

He flicked on through the glossy pages until his eye was caught by the headline of a full-page competition advertisement.

Witch Weekly’s Most Marvellous Magical Mum Competition.

Grand Prize 500,000 Galleons!

Lee thought his mother was pretty marvellous and he could certainly do with a cut of five hundred thousand galleons! He quickly got up and started rummaging through the bottom of his wardrobe for the highly unfashionable robes his mother had made him for his last birthday. Perhaps it was time to pay dear old Mum a visit!

He reluctantly donned his garish grey and pink flounced robes and arranged his dreadlocks as neatly as possible in front of the mirror.

He hoped Ginny had left. As much as he was confident in his resolve to give it up for lost, he’d still prefer it if she didn’t catch him in his mother’s idea of style.

Lee stuck his head around the doorframe at the bottom of the stairs rather than apparating directly into the store. She didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight but he had to be cautious, he didn’t want to be spotted by any of her brothers either.

“Can I help you?” A pleasant female voice asked.

Lee had his breath taken away for the second time that day as he met the eye of a lovely looking girl with short blonde hair standing behind the counter in the loud magenta robes that George was always wearing. This must be the assistant he’d heard George mention.

“Er, hi! You must be Verity?”

Verity looked unimpressed indicating the enormous flashing nametag she was regrettably required to wear by her employer.

Lee mentally kicked himself. Bad start. What would Witch Weekly encourage their readers to look for in a man?

Inspiration struck. Lee smiled charmingly and held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you, Verity, I’m Lee, George’s new flatmate.”

Verity inspected him carefully, trying to weigh up whether or not he was who he claimed to be or a robber off the street. Deciding he was probably safe, she extended her hand to shake his, but Lee grabbed it and brought it to his lips not breaking eye contact.

She flushed a little and, encouraged, Lee launched into conversation.

“I’m just off to visit my dear old mum,” he said conspiratorially, “though don’t let it get out that a wild man like me loves his mother. I’d never hear the end of it.”

She smiled slightly but not enough to convince him she was impressed… yet.

“Of course, these robes are the ones she made me for my birthday last year – aren’t they hideous? I put on something she’s made me or given me every time I go for a visit so I get quite a bit of wear out of the horrible things. And what with my weekly visits, they’re practically threadbare!”

Verity smiled sweetly. “Lee?”

“Yes, Verity?”

“What’s in that bag? Have you bought your mum a lovely present too?”

“What bag?” Lee asked innocently, trying to surreptitiously kick it out of sight.

“Accio bag!” she called triumphantly and an overstuffed smelly linen bag clearly marked <i>Laundry</i> flew into her hand.

“Hmm, yes, one of those boys who loves his mum. I know all about your type.”

“What type?” Lee asked, trying to keep his voice as innocent sounding as possible.

“The type who read their mum’s magazines to find out what kind of thing they should say to impress the witches.”

Lee looked crestfallen.

Verity took pity on him. “But you’re pretty cute, Lee, so why don’t you give it a go again tomorrow?”

He looked up at her hopefully.

“Make sure it’s original material though. It seems I’m going to be running into you a lot more!” She laughed, “And why don’t you just visit your dear old mother and leave your washing here to do yourself. I’m guessing that it’s probably been more than a week since you last wore those robes. They don’t look too threadbare to me!”

Lee walked away from the counter in a daze. Charm wasn’t going to cut it. Perhaps next time he’d have to go straight for magic!

****

Harry hurriedly threw on some clothes on the morning of his eighteenth birthday and rushed through to the lounge room to find out the source of the mysterious tapping noise.

On the windowsill stood a handsome young tawny owl, mostly black with little white speckles, holding a letter in its claws.

Harry quickly raised the sash to let the bird inside and was surprised to find that she flew up to rest on his shoulder.

“Hello! You’re friendly!” Harry stroked the bird’s soft feathers and she bobbed her head slightly as if to respond to his affection. “What have you got for me?”

The bird helpfully stretched out her leg to allow Harry to remove the envelope.

Unfolding the parchment he recognised the familiar handwriting and his heartbeat quickened.

Happy Birthday, Harry.

Her arrival means I won’t be far behind!

Love Ginny

And in an instant she was there, all fiery red hair and that blazing look that Harry already associated with the more significant moments of his life and would come to all the more in the future.

Ginny flew out of the fireplace into his arms, just as she had in the Gryffindor common room and the owl took fright, flapping frantically to the top of the bookshelf for cover. The force of Ginny’s embrace knocked Harry backwards onto the lounge and she fell with him, landing pleasantly on top of him and laughing.

Harry was so impressed by this turn of events that he didn’t want to risk ruining the moment by saying something stupid. He merely grinned up at her delightedly, feeling the vibrations of her laughter against his ribs.

He looked deeply into her golden brown eyes and then her lips met his and he was transported back to those days he’d once described as being out of someone else’s life. Ginny’s fingers threaded through his hair as she kissed him and he just managed to vaguely register the seed of a very pleasant thought somewhere in the back of his mind. This was his picture of freedom, being able to kiss Ginny without worrying about what danger he might be placing her in, in a world where the name of Voldemort no longer inspired terror. Harry slid his arms around her waist squeezing her tightly. He splayed his fingers across her shoulder blades and returned her kisses with enthusiasm. This is the stuff Patronuses are made of.

So wrapped up were they in one another that they barely noticed the fire flare green.

“Oh dear, not again!” Mr Granger sighed as he stepped out of the grate and was quickly joined by his wife, Hermione and Ron.

Ginny and Harry leapt to their feet, both flushed almost scarlet.

“Harry!” Hermione squealed, throwing her arms around his neck. “Oh it’s good to see you! And it’s great to see you and Ginny finally together! How long has that been now?”

“About thirty seconds,” Harry grimaced, catching Ginny’s eye over Hermione’s shoulder. “The Floo Network seems to be busy this morning.” He winked at Ron as Hermione pulled away and finally forced himself to meet Mr Granger’s eye, holding out his hand and smiling apologetically. “I’m glad that Ron was able to get you all home, Mr Granger.”

“So am I, my lad,” Mr Granger replied, smiling and shaking Harry’s hand warmly. “And it seems that we are also in debt to you for your part in the scheme.”

“Oh, Harry,” Mrs Granger gushed as she embraced her daughter’s best friend. “I feel terrible that we repay you by interrupting your birthday celebrations!”

Ginny giggled as she embraced Hermione. “Don’t worry about it, Mrs Granger, it’s becoming a kind of tradition!”

Mr and Mrs Granger looked at one another in puzzlement as Harry and Hermione laughed and Ron groaned, dropping his head into his hands.