The Sugar Quill
Author: zzzFF snuggle the muggle  Story: Maybe It Could Wait  Chapter: Default
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"I think the coast is clear, Ginny."

They lifted his cloak off their heads. "Okay." She glanced ahead nervously. She had gone in before, of course, but never with him. And this evening they'd be going in so far.

"Don't be nervous. I won't let anything hurt you. Have you got the list?"

"Yeah." She pulled it out of the pocket of her robes. Several items were already crossed off but six of them were circled. "Plus, I've got my 1000 Magical Herbs and Fungi. It might come in handy."

"Good thinking. Do you have any idea where this stuff might be?"

"Think so." She had wanted Ron to come, had begged, pled, bargained. He had refused, flat out refused, to go into the Forest with her. Then, of all people, Harry had volunteered; Harry, who seemed to have no fear of anything, not of centaurs or spiders or giants or . . .

She just couldn't tell him.

"Over here, Harry. I think it's wolfsbane."

Consulting her guide with her over her shoulder, Harry agreed. "Definitely. Get the seed pod."

She had found the potion by accident in a very old book. Could it . . . really . . . do that? Oh, yes. It would be tricky, probably the hardest potion she had ever tried. But, on the chance that it worked . . . It was worth the time and the effort and the risk.

Being this near him was torment. Maybe there would be a time when her heart didn't pound when he glanced at her. When the sight of him laughing with Ron didn't hurt. When hearing other girls giggling over him wouldn't be torturous. Maybe. . . .soon.


"Here. On this branch. That fungus stuff."

"Yeah. Good eyes . . . . It's starting to get dark. Lumos."

"Lumos." Her wand lit up to match his.

"How long does this potion take to cook?"

"Three weeks."

"Three weeks? Where . . . .?"

"I'm not sure . . . . I thought I'd send an owl to Fred and George for suggestions."

"I have an idea, Ginny."

"Oh, over there, Harry. I think it might be the asphodel. "

"No. That's the wrong color."


"Look, Ginny."

"Now that's the right plant. I need the roots."

"This is a very strange collection of ingredients, Ginny. What does this potion do, exactly?"

"Um, what was your idea of where I could brew it?"

"Oh, Ginny. I'm . . . . Never mind. I'm sure the twins will have a suggestion."

She had, over the last year, tried several different charms but nothing had worked. Nothing. This was her last resort.

They were quiet now as they walked, the light of their wands casting narrow beams ahead of their feet.


He reached down a hand to help her back onto her feet. "All right?"

"I think so." His hand was callused and warm and the tingly feeling shot down to her toes. But certainly for three more weeks she could endure it, couldn't she? It had been, after all, years.


"If you have an idea for a place, I'll listen."

"Well, that year . . . . the chamber." She stopped walking. He didn't want to remind her of her stupidity. But she did not need to be reminded. She never forgot.


"We made polyjuice potion. It took a month to brew and we made it in the toilet where. . . ."

"The entrance." She had never gone there again. She couldn't stand it.

"No one ever goes in there, you see. It worked perfectly. I'm sure Hermione could get you set up."

"No. Not Hermione. She'd want to know why . . . ."


"Look, Ginny, over there? I think that's knotgrass."

"Yes. I think that's it. Better check the book."

"I'll hold it. You use your wand to read it. What do you think?"



Only two more ingredients. One of them was optional, but she wanted it. The potion needed to be really strong. And he was with her, after all. That would make it easier.

"Ginny. I'm sorry about bringing that up."

"No reason to apologize. You were trying to be helpful."

"I could get the cauldron and flames set up for you, I think. If you want."

"No thanks. I can handle it, Harry. I'm a fifth year. You guys were second years and managed."

"No. Hermione managed. Ron and I couldn't have done it."

It was obvious to her that he still thought her a child. She shouldn't care, but . . . . Well, not much longer. Just three weeks. By Halloween, it would be over.


"There's the wormwood tree. I need some bark from it. . . .Um, Harry? There's an optional ingredient. But I want it. And since you're here . . ."

"What is it?"

"Thestral hair."

"Thestral hair? What does this potion do?"

"Do you mind? I brought some raw meat to bait them."

"You brought raw meat?. . . . No. I don't mind, I guess. Yuck."

"I hope we don't have to wait too long. It's getting really cold. Come sit under the cloak. It'll keep us both warm."

"Thanks, Harry. That is better. The fire in the tower will feel good tonight."




"I wanted to ask you . . . . Well, . . . Are you still seeing Dean?"

"We're just friends now, Harry." She ignored the small tendril of hope. There was always a little hope, still, after all these years. Hope that died as quickly as it flared. It had to end.

"I was wondering . . . This is so hard. Would you like to go . . . to Hogsmeade this next week-end? With me?"

She didn't answer.


"They're coming, Harry. I can hear them."

"Yeah, here's one of them. You just need hair? Is from the mane all right?"

"Yes, anything."

"All right, three hairs."


"What do you think about Hogsmeade?"

"Do you mean . . . a date, Harry?"

"Yes. You. And me. A date." He paused. "Because I want to have the right to do this." He bent forward and kissed her on the mouth.

The potion. Decessamoro. It was meant to kill unrequited love. Kill the love she had for him. Take away the pain of watching him, loving him, never having him.

Maybe it could wait.

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