Running

Chapter 12

Harry and Neville spent a lot of time during the holidays together. Not many students remained behind during the Christmas holidays, so it wasn't hard to find areas to hang out together without worrying about a certain green-headed boy finding them. The only place they could possibly clash with him was meal times in the Great Hall, but his brothers insisted on him spending time together at meals during Christmas time, because, as Harry remembered Christmas is a time for family. Thank Merlin, he wasn't part of that one.

One day, a couple of days after retrieving the stone, Harry headed down to Hagrid's hut. "Harry," Hagrid pulled him into a hug as he walked in, "How've you been?"

"Good," Harry sat with a smile, "I just wanted to ask you about something."

"Oh?" Hagrid began boiling some water to make some tea. "Well, ask away," he said with a laugh.

"It's about the night you found me in Godric's Hollow." Hagrid's head shot up in surprise, causing him to hit it on a shelf. "Oh?" He said gruffly, trying to compose himself. He sat down next to Harry, and gave him a sad smile, "What do you want to know?"

"Did you see anyone else there? I know you were the first person to find me, but was there a chance anyone else could've been there?"
Hagrid was, understandably bewildered. "Course not Harry, they'd have taken you out of there straight away, just like I did, I just happened to be the one to find you."

"Yeah, of course," Harry shook his head and smiled. During his five years post-potion, he had found out Dumbledore had actually gotten there first. He'd hoped Hagrid would've noticed something, but it was understandable if he didn't. Two dead young adults and a traumatised child would be anyone's focus when happening upon a scene like that. And Hagrid was a trusting guy. Clearly, Dumbledore didn't take him out of there straight away, so what was he doing there?

He spent another hour chatting with Hagrid. It was nice to spend time with him again. After leaving Hogwarts and starting his life with Ginny, he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the man that introduced him to the Wizarding World. He'd missed him.

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Ginny was busy at home flipping through her album. It was filled with doodles and sketches of her and the-Boy-Who-Lived. Complete with wedding invitations and planned kids' names, Ginny couldn't wait to replace the homemade drawings with real photos. In all of her letters to her brother Ron, she had been begging for at least one picture of her future husband. Sometimes she thought of whether he'd love her with or without the potion. Who wouldn't love her? Her brothers loved her loads, they'd do anything to make her happy. She already loved Harry Potter, it would be easy for him to love her too. And if he didn't, she would make him, she would remove the stain his mother had added to the honourable House of Potter. She would make him love her. She would become his everything, she would be all he had.

She sighed as her mother called her down to the kitchen. Molly Weasley frequently indulged in and encouraged Ginny's delusions and often even avoided asking anything of her when she knew her daughter was fantasising. Ginny stomped downstairs, ready to shout at her mother for interrupting her until she saw an old man standing in their kitchen too.

"So sorry to interrupt you, Ginny, I know you were busy," Molly cooed at her, "Just need a hair from your head."

Ginny looked at her mother confused, previous anger forgotten. "A hair? What for?"

"Well dear, we just thought," Molly began, indicating to herself and the old guy Ginny didn't really care about, "Maybe we should get Harry thinking about you early."

"Really?" Ginny's eyes lit up, and the excitement couldn't be hidden from her voice. "But," she paused, "He doesn't even know me yet."
"True," the old man spoke, "but he will soon. And wouldn't it be nice to not have to fight for him, Ginevra?" She didn't really like anyone calling her by her full name, but her mother had made her promise a million times to keep their plans a secret. If this old man knew, then maybe he was important. She'd let it slide, this time.