Red Is The Heart by St Margarets



Summary: "In the end, it mattered not that you could not close your mind. It was your heart that saved you." Harry begins to understand the truth of this statement as he learns valuable lessons in love, friendship, and choices during his sixth year. A fluffy H/G tale of adventure. A sequel to the "Wallpaper" trilogy. (Read that first.)


Rating: PG-13 starstarstarstarstar
Categories: Post-OotP, Buried Gems
Characters: None
Genres: None
Warnings: None
Challenges: None
Series: None
Published: 2004.06.15
Updated: 2004.09.27


Index

Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter 2: Dragons
Chapter 3: Lessons
Chapter 4: Lunch
Chapter 5: Finally, Hogsmeade
Chapter 6: Rescues
Chapter 7: Laundry
Chapter 8: Talking the Talk
Chapter 9: Friends And An Enemy
Chapter 10: Song of Slytherin
Chapter 11: Spin
Chapter 12: Christmas
Chapter 13: Into The New Year
Chapter 14: Sensitive
Chapter 15: Light and Shadow
Chapter 16: Valentine's Day
Chapter 17: Coming of Age
Chapter 18: Walpurgis Night
Chapter 19: Battle Of The Chamber
Chapter 20: I Choose You
Chapter 21: Red Is The Heart
Chapter 22: Gold Is The Sprit
Chapter 23: Green Is This Life


Chapter 1: Prologue

Disclaimer: These are JKR's characters going through their sixth year a little earlier than expected.

A/N Oh, dear. I realize now that I have created my own little world within JKR's world. Not only do I refer to canon, but also to my previous stories about Harry and Ginny. The events of this story follow "Lucky Me." You need to read Wallpaper Moments, Dragaons, Diaries and Diagon Allley first.

The closest I've come to canon!Harry is in "Wallpaper Moments." From there I developed him based on the experiences I gave him. So the Harry of this story will continue to progress. He won't be strictly canon anymore. I hope that you will find this character progression logical and enjoyable. Please don't think that I am predicting any sort of a beginning, middle, or end for JKR's book six. This is my first multi-chapter story. I would be happy for any feedback along the way-good or bad.

Thank you to Jo Wickannish for the beta read and Julu for her encouragement.

Prologue

The sixth year Prefects' compartment on the Hogwarts Express was abuzz with excitement.

"Did you hear?" Hannah Abbott asked excitedly as Ron and Hermione entered the compartment. "Draco Malfoy and a whole bunch of Slytherins aren't coming back to Hogwarts!"

Hermione sat down next to Padma Patil with a thump. "No!"

"Why?" Ron asked.

"Does Daddy-is-a-Death-Eater-in-prison sound like a good enough excuse?" Padma mocked.

"Well, that doesn't mean their children did anything wrong."

Padma rolled her eyes. "You are so naïve, Hermione."

"Really," Ron said, moving to sit next to Anthony Goldstein. "I can see why they left. Who would want to be around them now? Who could trust them?"

"So who are the Prefects from Slytherin this year?" Ernie MacMillan asked.

"Pansy Parkinson is still here. But I don't know about-" "-shh!"

Pansy Parkinson entered the compartment with a tall, thin boy who Ron remembered from Care of Magical Creatures class. He was one of the three students who had been able to see the Thestrals.

Pansy looked at all the curious faces and brazened it out. "Hello, everyone. This is Theodore Nott, he is the new Prefect for Slytherin this year since Draco decided to go to Durmstrang."

Theodore Nott looked decidedly uncomfortable, yet he too looked defiantly around. There was an uncomfortable silence, until Hannah Abbott remembered her manners. "Sit down. The Head Boy and Girl should be here soon." Then she slid down the seat to make room for the Slytherins.

The train whistle blew, drowning out any attempts at conversation.

Ron looked over at Hermione. She was chewing on her lip and had that frown she always got when she was thinking furiously. As glad as Ron was that Draco Malfoy was no longer a Hogwarts student, he couldn't help but feel that this was an ominous development. People were starting to take sides-and not everyone wanted to be on Dumbledore's.

Two hours later, Ron and Hermione trudged back to the compartment where they had stowed their trunks with Harry and Ginny's. Ron really hoped they had bought something off the cart for them; he was starving.

"I don't have a good feeling about Malfoy leaving Hogwarts," Hermione said.

"I heard Crabbe and Goyle went with him."

"Really?" She looked startled.

"Yeah-they all went-all of them with Death Eaters in the family. Except for Nott. Wonder what is up with him. And why on earth would Dumbledore make him a Prefect?"

"I'd like to know that too," she murmured.

"There's one more thing I'd like to know," Ron said as they reached the door of their compartment.

"What's that?" Hermione looked up in surprise.

"Where the hell are Harry and Ginny?" Ron asked grimly.

*

After touching the Portkey in Sirius's kitchen, Harry landed on his back, with Ginny half sprawled on top of him. This is very pleasant, he thought, looking up at the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall,watching the clouds chase each other in the pale blue sky. Then his stomach lurched with dread, what if we have landed in the middle of the Great Hall with the entire school assembled here?

He took his eyes off of the ceiling to look into Ginny's face. She looked as bemused and disoriented as he felt. "Ginny?"

"Am I too heavy on you? That was quite a rough landing."

"No, but are we the only ones here? I'm afraid to look."

She looked around and laughed. "Just you and me-and oh no, here comes Professor McGonagall." She scrambled off of him and got to her feet. Harry followed suit, wishing they could have stayed that way a little while longer.

"Potter! Weasley! How did you manage to miss the train?"

"We stopped to help a lady who fainted. By the time she and her daughter Disapparated, the train was pulling out of the station," Harry explained.

Professor McGonagall peered at him as if finding his explanation too simple for such a big mistake.

Harry looked steadily back, noticing for the first time that he was taller than she was. When did that happen? he wondered.

"Ah, here he is. Do you have a story worked out yet, Potter?"

Harry looked at the unwelcome sight of his Potions teacher sauntering into the Great Hall. He met Snape's eyes. Harry could tell that he was trying to determine if he was telling the truth. Just try it, Harry thought. He was confident in his Occlumency abilities since he had been practicing diligently all summer.

A queer smile played around Snape's lips. "Been practicing, have you? Useful for all sorts of situations, isn't it?"

Professor McGonagall looked from Snape to Harry. "What are you going on about Severus? He gave an explanation. I don't think he is hiding anything. Seems these two helped out a lady on the platform."

"Two?" Snape asked, as if had just noticed Ginny. "A different Weasley to share in your troubles this time, Potter?"

Harry saw that Ginny was looking red-faced and a little lost. He moved closer to her.

"Who was this woman you helped?" Snape asked.

Harry looked at Ginny, who gave a helpless shrug, and then he answered, "I don't know. She was really old. When her daughter came up, the mum called her Harriet."

Professor McGonagall was listening closely. "Did anyone else see this woman?"

He shrugged. "I'm not sure. I didn't notice her at first, Ginny did."

Ginny reddened again as all the attention swung to her. "I was talking to Harry and I noticed this woman putting her hand to her head like she was going to faint. I don't know-I think my friends had already gone on."

Harry didn't remember; he had eyes only for Ginny, but he wasn't going to tell Snape that.

"Well, Potter we're going to check out your story. Hopefully that was all there was to this incident. I'd hate to think we had Death Eaters on our platform waiting to attack," Professor McGonagall said. "I don't need to remind you that security is tight these days. To have lost two students between the platform at King's Cross Station and Hogwarts on the very first day is most disturbing. I'm glad you had the presence of mind to summon the Knight Bus."

"Yes, at least no Muggles saw a flying car." Snape sneered. "As for your punishment, that should save Gryffindor a few points and the Weasley family a few Galleons."

Harry looked at Professor McGonagall in appeal. "We'll see about punishments in my office. Come with me, Potter, Weasley."

Once in her office, Professor McGonagall closed the door and said in a quiet voice. "There will be no punishment, of course. I imagine returning to that house was punishment enough."

She sat down with a sigh. "It's unfortunate the Knight Bus couldn't have brought you all the way here, but it would have been too long on public transportation. We can't risk that these days. You understand why, don't you, Potter?"

She knows about the prophecy, he thought. He nodded.

"I suppose you're hungry?"

"Yes," Harry said with more enthusiasm than he intended.

Professor McGonagall smiled and with a flick of her wand produced a plate of sandwiches. "I'd send you to the kitchens, but the House Elves are busy with the Welcoming Feast. We've had several desertions-so there aren't as many hands to do the work."

"Desertions? How can they do that? I thought House Elves were bound by magic to their masters."

"Hogwarts isn't a master in a traditional sense. This is the place second or third children of the elves go when their wizard family can't afford to keep them. The eldest always takes over from the parent elf. If an elf from a Death Eater's house is called back, they are not tied to Hogwarts anymore. They can choose."

Harry's stomach lurched. The war really had begun-and sides were being taken.

Professor McGonagall sighed. "I think you will find fewer students this year at Hogwarts-many parents have decided that Britain is too dangerous of a place with You-know-who back. Although," she added in a contemptuous voice, "distance has never stopped him before."

She stood up abruptly. "I will inform the Headmaster that you both have arrived safely." She turned at the door. "Until the feast you may wonder the castle freely, but do not go on the grounds."

Harry and Ginny sat in silence after the door clicked shut. All that business with the House Elves seemed so unexpected, yet inevitable. He wondered how else Voldemort's public return was going to affect life at Hogwarts.

Ginny shook her head. "I told you it was going to get weird once we got back to school."

Harry grinned at her. "Aren't you always right? Didn't I say it was 'yes dear' and 'no dear' from now on?"

She chuffed him on the arm and went to the window.

Harry picked up a sandwich. "I wonder why we're not allowed out on the grounds?"

Ginny turned from the window with a strange look on her face. "Maybe because of the dragons?"

Back to index


Chapter 2: Dragons

Chapter One: Dragons

"The dragons didn't keep me awake last night," Ron said at breakfast the next day, as he stuffed an entire triangle of toast in his mouth.

"Course not, everyone knows you could sleep through an earthquake," Seamus said.

Harry had heard the dragons roaring and the occasional bursts of flame as well, but they hadn't interrupted his sleep. It was good to know Hogwarts was being protected.

"Well, I didn't sleep a wink," Hermione said wearily as she looked over her new timetable for sixth year. "Looks like we have Defense Against the Dark Arts first thing this morning."

"Yeah, at least it's not Professor Bicycle teaching it," Neville said with a grin.

"Hey, that's what I heard this summer," Seamus said, liberally shaking salt on his eggs. "You know how these rumors can get out of hand."

"I'm still disappointed it wasn't Professor Otto Bus."

"Or Luca Motive."

"Or Ariel Plane."

"Shut up! That joke was old yesterday," Seamus said with a red face. "Besides this new bloke has a stupid name too--Quentin Trimble. Doesn't inspire a lot of confidence does it?"

"He did write our first year textbook on the Dark Arts," Hermione pointed out. "He must know loads of theory."

"Good thing they're bringing in Ministry Aurors once a week to teach us the practical stuff, that old fossil doesn't look like he has enough energy to pick up a wand."

"Just because he's old, Ron, doesn't mean he can't be an effective teacher," Hermione shot back.

Ron shrugged. "I suppose so. But he is old-and I'll bet he's dead boring, like Binns."

"Why are you so prejudiced against old people?" Hermione asked. She laid her knife and fork across the plate and glared at Ron pointedly. "You'll be old someday."

"Maybe I won't," Ron said with a grin, leaning back with his arms folded over his chest. "Maybe I'll die young-now there's a choice-should I die young and beautiful or old and wise?"

"Neither," Seamus crowed, "since you're young and stupid now, I don't see how you can grow to be old and wise---and as far as beauty goes-"

"Stop it!" Hermione's hands struck the table, so that all the plates clattered. "Don't talk like that! I don't want to hear about anyone dying-ever!"

All conversation ceased and the smiles slipped off of their faces.

Hermione looked at all their sober faces and said in a whisper, "-Just don't-" Then she abruptly stood up and hurried from the hall.

Harry looked at Ron questioningly.

"She's had a rough summer, Harry. She's been really worried about-everything." Then he too got up to leave. "I'll go talk to her before class. I shouldn't have joked around in front of her."

Seamus and Neville were determinedly eating, looking at their plates.

Harry sighed. The first day of classes was not getting off to an auspicious start. He looked over at Ginny, but saw that she too, had left with her friends. They hadn't exchanged one word, although she had smiled at him when she first sat down. Now he wondered if he should have gone over to sit with her. But he had been in the middle of breakfast. Then the timetables were passed around, and one thing led to another. Now he was alone with the sound of Hermione's sad whisper echoing in his ears.

*

Ron must have known what to say to comfort Hermione because she was able to correct Professor Trimble twice during the course of their first lesson. By the time they were sitting in their usual places in the common room, she seemed to be back to her inquisitive self.

"Harry, do you have a lot of homework tonight?"

He came out of his reverie with a start. "Um, not too much, why-do you need something?"

"No, but you haven't done a thing all evening except stare across the common room at the fifth years." Hermione was smirking at him.

Ron looked up from his Charms textbook at this turn of conversation. "Yeah, what happened with you and Ginny? You looked happy enough at the feast last night."

Harry wasn't sure what had happened. He had tried to talk to her all day, but Ginny was constantly surrounded by people Harry didn't know, and he hesitated to intrude. Why didn't she come over and talk to me? he wondered.

He shrugged. "I dunno-she seems busy, I guess."

"Harry, she's waiting for you to talk to her," Hermione said impatiently.

"You think so?" he asked, idly making random dots with his quill all over his Charms homework.

"She's not going to tag along after you. You have to put some effort into this, you know."

"What if-what about her friends?" he asked, not really sure what he was trying to find out.

"What about them?" Hermione looked thoroughly exasperated by now. "They aren't dragons, you know. They can't harm you."

"But Ginny could, if you don't shape up," Ron warned. "She doesn't have a lot of patience with idiots."

Harry put the quill down. Didn't he know the truth of that? He was being an idiot-he realized that now after talking to Ron and Hermione.

His mind made up, he walked over to the fifth year table, wondering if everyone in the common room noticed his destination. He glanced quickly back to see Ron and Hermione watching him with indulgent expressions on their faces-much like proud parents did when their offspring did something particularly well. That rankled as much as the thought of Ginny being angry with him. Am I really so socially inept? he wondered.

Yes-I am, he thought as approached the silent table, not having the foggiest idea of what to say. Fortunately the girls were absorbed in their homework, and didn't notice him.

"Er-Ginny? Could I talk to you?"

Ginny looked up blankly, taking a second or two for her eyes to focus on his face.

"Oh!" She sounded genuinely surprised to see him standing over her. "Ok."

Her friends watched as she put her quill down and followed him to the wall of doors leading to the dormitories.

Ginny leaned against the wall with her arms crossed in front of her. "Finally decided to talk to me today?"

"No-yes-I mean, I've wanted to talk to you all day."

"Really? We've seen each other at three meals. And we've been in the same room now for the past two hours," she said in a cold voice.

"I know-stupid of me, I should have come over sooner."

"Why didn't you? You know my friends. They're all really nice."

"Ginny, I don't know your friends."

"Of course you do; they all know you." Then she clapped her hand over her mouth and her eyes opened wide. "You don't know them. I just realized." She stared at him a minute and then she put her hand on his arm. "Oh, Harry, I'm sorry-no wonder you didn't want to come over."

She looked truly contrite. And, Harry couldn't help but notice, truly appealing. The candlelight from the sconce above made fascinating golden glints in her hair. "No, it's not your fault-I reckon I have to meet your friends sometime."

"I shouldn't have been so hard on you." Ginny's eyes searched his face and then she asked in a hesitant voice, "Are you irked?"

He smiled. "Not even miffed." How could he be upset with her when she looked so . . . very . . . He tore his eyes away from her lips and stood up straighter.

"Well." She was blushing a little. "Why don't you eat lunch with us tomorrow? I'll introduce you to everyone."

"Ok," he said, not really sure what he was agreeing to, since the only thought in his head was why the Gryffindor common room had to be so-common.

"I should get back to studying," she said. "Tomorrow at lunch-right?"

"Right," he repeated watching her return to her table. Somehow he knew that he would not be sleeping well that night, and it wouldn't be dragons keeping him awake.

*

The next day Harry turned up at Ginny's section of the lunch table as planned. He was dreading the introductions and realized that his fears were well founded when he saw the looks of surprise when he sat down next to Ginny.

"Hi." Ginny smiled into his eyes.

"Hi." He couldn't help but smile back-even with an audience it was just nice to be sitting next to her.

She finally looked away from him and told her curious friends, "This is Harry Potter."

"We know, Ginny," said a tall dark-haired girl who was looking rather amused.

"Harry, this is Rose."

Harry said hello, feeling a bit silly.

"And this is Jeanne-she's the one who lost her cat in Kings Cross Station."

Jeanne fluttered her hands. "Oh-that was just terrible. Good thing that Muggle boy got him out for me. Mr. Boots was so scared. I had to talk to him almost the entire train trip to calm him down. He's very sensitive, you know." Harry was so strongly reminded of Mrs. Figg, that what he hoped was a sympathetic look on his face, didn't turn out to be a smirk.

"And that's Diane." Diane was an apple-cheeked blonde girl who seemed to be busily cutting everything on her plate in half.

"I'm trying a new diet. You can eat anything you want, but just a half of a normal portion," she said as her knife sliced through a pea.

"Um-" Harry couldn't help himself. "Wouldn't it be easier to just put half the peas on one side of the plate, instead of cutting up each one?"

Diane shot him a look of disgust. "Another benefit to cutting everything up is it takes time--and that is time not spent eating."

"Diane is really good at dieting," Jeanne spoke up. "Last year she lost ten pounds." Diane beamed with pride.

Harry was at a loss. Diane didn't look as if she needed to be on a diet, but if he said that, then it would sound like he was ogling her figure. If he congratulated her, she might think that he was saying she was really a fat cow back then, and it was a great thing she finally lost some weight. Or if he wasn't very enthusiastic then she might think she had to lose even more. He settled for an indistinct noise in the back of his throat.

Luckily it was the right noise, because Diane went back to the tedious job of halving all the vegetables on her plate.

"So, Harry-" Rose said, looking at him shrewdly, "what brings you to our little end of the table?"

Here it comes, he thought. "I just wanted to sit with Ginny for lunch."

"Makes a nice change," Rose agreed with raised eyebrows. "You know that was my great-gran you helped out at Kings Crossing."

"Oh-um-is she all right?"

"She's fine. She and my gran thought you were such a nice boy-incredibly sweet."

Ginny's foot nudged him gently on the ankle. He felt his face burn.

Happily, Jeanne didn't feel the need for conversational segue ways. She began talking about two people Harry had never heard of. "Well then Roderick looked across the room and finally spotted her-after a year's absence, a life-threatening wound, and a torrid love affair with that Healer-what was her name?"

"Olga," Diane said, not lifting her eyes from pat of butter she was dividing.

"Right-Olga-the tart. Anyway, Fiona looked up at the same time and their gazes locked. She completely forgot that she had just miscarried another man's baby-that she had been a hostage for a hundred days-all she remembered was that she loved him."

"Oh." It was a collective sigh from all the girls. Harry was completely bewildered. Who on earth were Roderick and Fiona and Olga? Somehow he didn't think they were students from Hogwarts. "Um-what are you talking about?"

Jeanne looked at him in surprise. " Haven't you heard of Days of Destiny? It's the longest-running soap on the Wizarding Wireless."

"Fiona and Roderick are destined to be together, but things like amnesia, Time-Turners, wonky love potions, and evil forces keep them apart," Rose said with a smirk. "It's been going on for about fifty years now. I think the bloke who plays Roderick must be a thousand years old at least."

"Oh, he's not that old," Jeanne protested. "Besides-you don't see him. You can fantasize about what he looks like-and he's not a thousand in my dreams!" she said with a giggle.

"Fiona's new though," Diane said as she deliberately speared a half a pea with her fork. "It took a while to get used to her. She has a lot more spirit in her voice, and I think the writers took advantage of that. She used to be kind of shy, but now she tells old Roderick off when he strays too far."

"Oh, but in a nice way, of course," Ginny said, joining in with enthusiasm. "He really needs a strong woman, not some hero-worshiping clinging vine who has to be rescued every five seconds."

Harry couldn't believe it. Ginny-the Ginny he had known for years-the Ginny who could coolly walk into the middle of Quidditch season and replace him as Seeker--who could hang wallpaper and hex her brothers beyond recognition-was now ooing and ahing over a ridiculous radio show.

"I don't know," Jeanne said pushing her plate aside. "I think she could overdo that tough girl act. I mean, Roderick wants to be needed-he is a Healer after all."

"And an Auror, and a Quidditch star, and a Potions Master," Rose pointed out.

Ginny waved that away, "Yes he's too good to be true, sometimes-"

"Sometimes! Honestly, that show is beyond the bounds of reason," Rose said, shaking her head.

Ginny turned to Harry. "Rose isn't a true believer."

He could feel himself wanting to laugh. "Believer in what-super wizards who are susceptible to amnesia?"

Rose snorted in agreement, but the rest of the girls answered in unison, "Do you believe in destiny?"

"That's how they start each show," Ginny explained.

He did laugh then. "I see I've stumbled upon a mysterious cult, and I'd better leave before I'm brainwashed too."

Rose glanced at her watch. "So should I. It's time to go to class anyway."

All the girls stood up. Diane was looking forlornly at her neat piles of vegetables.

They called out, "Nice to meet you, Harry," as they went in different directions.

He turned to Ginny. "That was interesting."

She laughed. "You did just fine. Although I don't think we're going to let you talk about Days of Destiny ever again."

"Can't I make fun of it-just a little bit?"

"Absolutely not," Ginny said as she gathered her things. "Teasing about DD is banned at the Burrow. Mum loves that show. I've been listening to it as long as I can remember."

"Where are you going?" he asked, taking her books.

"Greenhouses."

"Good-I have Care of Magical Creatures, we can walk together."

As they headed out into the drizzle, Ginny asked, "So what did you think of my friends?"

There's a loaded question, Harry thought. "Um-they seem nice enough."

"They are nice. I like them because they don't gossip. Luna is like that too."

"Yeah." He could see why Ginny would feel that way; he didn't like gossip either. "But-I'd rather talk to you--just you-if you know what I mean."

She stopped and faced him. "I know." They were outside of the greenhouses now. The mist was hanging around them, and there were miniscule beads of water glistening on Ginny's hair. In the quiet gloom everything seemed insubstantial but her.

She broke the silence. "I'll see you at supper?"

"I wish." Reality was intruding yet again. "I just found out this morning-you can't tell anyone-I'm going to be taking lessons with Dumbledore. It's some kind of magic they don't teach here normally."

"Oh." Ginny frowned. "Just on Tuesdays?"

"No," he sighed heavily thinking of his busy schedule to come. "No, I'm also to have lessons in Apparating, and then when Quidditch starts-well it looks like afternoons and evenings will be all booked up. I won't have a chance to see you too often during the week."

"Well," she hesitated. "What about-from now on--lunch is just for the two of us-no friends?"

"That's a good idea," he said with relief. As selfish as it sounded, he wanted time alone with her.

"Really?" She started to smile. "You think that's a good idea? I thought you'd want to be with Ron and Hermione."

"I think they can spare me for an hour each day."

"Good," she said gravely. Her eyes were dark pools.

When she looked at him that way, the only thing he wanted to do was to lean over and very gently touch his mouth to hers. He took a deep breath. "I should go."

Then he glanced at the greenhouse and saw that the windows were steamed over with condensation. For once they had no audience. Even though they were standing in the mud with their books between them, he took the chance to kiss her. While her cheek was cold and damp, her lips were warm, so warm that he felt fire flash through his entire body.

There was an answering spark in her eyes as she murmured her good bye and slipped into the greenhouse.

*

Harry was late to Care of Magical Creatures, but no one seemed to notice, since all of the students were staring nervously at the blue dragon behind Hagrid's house. He must have missed the introductory speech because Hagrid was now dividing them into groups for projects. It seemed each group was to observe a different magical creature and keep a detailed journal.

Hagrid lead their group toward the lake.

"Hagrid," Hermione asked, "why are they so loud at night?"

"They're jus' miss'n their home. Some of 'em are quite young and miss their mothers. Not this un though." He beamed and swept his hand toward the enormous Norwegian Ridgeback in the paddock. "Norbert knows his mummy."

A/N For the backstory of Hermione's summer, read "Say It With Socks" (archived at the Sugar Quill)

Back to index


Chapter 3: Lessons

A/N Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish for the beta read. Thanks to Julu and JKR's website for the inspiration for the Chrysalis Charm. Thanks to Nic83 for Brit picking. Peas and carrots introduced me to alchemy symbolism in the HP world. I guess it takes a village to write fan fiction!

Chapter Two: Lessons

"Baby" Norbert, surrounded by handlers, strained at his ropes and scorched a 20 foot blackened path into the tall grass. Fortunately, he hadn't seen his "mummy" yet.

"And we thought Grawp was bad," Ron murmured.

Hagrid shook his head at the mention of Grawp. "I never thought 'ter see the day-but Grawpy is afraid of dragons. He's off in the forest hidin'. Can't coax him home for nothin'."

"There's an ill wind . . ." Ron said under his breath. Harry and Hermione chuckled and backed up a bit when Norbert turned in their direction. Through the mist, they saw the shadowy shapes of the handlers putting a muzzle on the beast. When that task was done, one of the wizards strode towards them.

"Hey! It's Charlie!" Ron yelped in surprise.

Hagrid was beaming. "Thought he'd surprise 'ye."

Although Ron was a head taller than Charlie, he easily put Ron in a headlock and affectionately ruffled his hair. "I can hardly reach you-what's Mum feeding you?" He released a red-faced, smiling Ron.

"Harry, Hermione." He shook their hands with his strong grip. "Good to see you again. Is Norbert going to be your special project this year?"

"I hope not," Hermoine said weakly. And then realized what she had said. "Whatever Hagrid decides," she added hastily.

"Nah," Hagrid interjected. "I want you ter pick what you're interested in. Sixth year you have a lot of lee way."

"I think my lee way will be as far from dragons as I can get," Ron muttered.

"Why doesn't anyone else in the family like dragons?" Charlie asked, shaking his head.

"Maybe because we're not mental," Ron said.

Charlie laughed. "That's debatable. I wouldn't worry about studying dragons. They aren't all staying."

"Where are they going?"

"The Ministry, in its infinite wisdom, thinks that dragons will be a great deterrent to the Death Eaters. What they can't seem to understand is that not every dragon can be a guard dragon-they're kind of like Trolls that way."

"Except Trolls can't burn your building down when they sneeze," Ron pointed out.

"Is he always this mouthy?" Charlie asked the group with a grin.

Hagrid looked downcast at the thought of losing all his lovely dragons. "But we still get ter keep four of 'em-right?"

"Four that can thrive in this climate. Some winter over better than others." Charlie glanced back at Norbert. "I'd say this one would be fine here."

Hagrid looked overjoyed at this news, but Harry couldn't see why Hagrid was worried about Norbert in the first place; it didn't look as if a blizzard and a hailstorm of Stupefying spells would faze him a bit.

Hagrid wandered off to check on the other groups, so they were able to spend the rest of class talking to Charlie, who wanted all the news about his siblings.

"So how's Ginny?" he asked.

"Fine," Harry said without thinking.

They all turned to stare at him. He could feel the heat in his face. "I, er-just saw her." And kissed her, he thought.

Ron and Hermione were both hiding smiles. Charlie looked at him narrowly, in an uncanny imitation of Mrs. Weasley. "Oh. I'll try to see her after supper. We're leaving first thing in the morning."

"And taking the loud ones with you?" Hermione asked hopefully.

"And taking a few with me," Charlie agreed. "I should be popping in a few times this term. I'm going to be all over Britain, monitoring the dragons."

As they headed back to the castle, Hermione was still fretting over what their Magical Creature project should be.

"Lavender and Parvati will pick centaurs-I reckon," Ron said.

"They can have them," Hermione said with a shudder.

"Yeah, it's not as if they can just follow Firenze around all day."

"I vote for Flobberworms," said Harry.

"We've done that."

"Diricawls?" Ron suggested.

"They would be such a pain to follow around since they Apparate at the first sign of danger."

"Flobberworms," Harry said again.

"You're not helping!"

"Ok, I'm going to regret this," Ron said with a sigh. He stopped in the middle of the path and looked at both of them.

"What?"

"Well, what about studying House Elves? You seem really keen on them, Hermione-and really there isn't that much known about them. I mean, your research could actually amount to something."

Hermione's face lit up. Seeing her look so excited and happy made Harry realize just how long it had been since he had seen her look like that. She did have a rough summer, he thought with a pang.

"Oh, Ron that is the best idea!" And to Harry's surprise, she dropped her bag on the wet ground and hugged Ron around the waist. To Harry's further surprise, Ron hugged her back with his one free hand.

"I'm going to regret this," he said with a flushed face.

"No you won't," Hermione said, pulling away a little to look up at him. "This will be a way for all of us to understand the House Elves. Then you'll see the wisdom of S.P.E.W."

"Hermione," Ron said in a warning tone, " that's the point. To understand them. Not to make them understand us. After we've spent time with them, S.P.E.W. may or may not be a good idea."

"You're right," Hermione declared. "Oh, I'm so excited." She bent to pick up her books. "I'm going to draw up some observation sheets right now, so we can have Hagrid approve them right away." She practically skipped off to the castle.

Harry looked at Ron. "I still think we should have done Flobberworms."

"Too right," Ron said.

*

After supper Harry walked to Professor Dumbledore's tower for his extra lessons with some trepidation. He hadn't been in his office, or talked privately with the Headmaster, since Sirius's death last term.

A commotion down the corridor caught his attention. It was Theodore Nott, the new Slytherin Prefect, scolding a group of younger boys who looked like they were trying to sneak back into the castle past their curfew.

"The grounds are not safe for anyone-even brave Gryffindors," he said sarcastically, "unless you're well-versed in dragon-taming."

"Why should we listen to you?" taunted one of the boys. "You're not our Prefect-besides who is going to believe anything you say? Everyone knows your Dad's a traitor to the Ministry and so are you."

"Wilson! Shut it!"

To Harry's complete surprise, Ron came striding over to the group, looking grim. "He's a Hogwarts Prefect, and you are out of bounds, so he has every right to report you."

The boy wasn't backing down that easily. "He's a traitor! And a Slytherin-I'm not listening to him!"

"Then listen to me." Ron's ears were a fiery red. "Ten points from Gryffindor and I'm reporting all of you to McGonagall."

The boys gaped at him.

"Back to the tower--now," he said through clenched teeth.

Theodore Nott looked at Ron appraisingly. "You denied me a chance to take points from Gryffindor, Weasley."

Ron's mouth was a straight white line. "Sorry to spoil your fun, Nott," he said and swung away.

Harry looked at his watch and realized that he was going to be late if he didn't hurry. As he quickened his pace he wondered if Ron would tell him about that little episode with Nott. Somehow he didn't think Ron could explain why he had been "matey" with a Slytherin-no matter how short the duration.

*

"Harry, come in and sit down please," Dumbledore said. "I'm sure you're wondering what sort of lessons I've arranged for you and why."

Harry nodded, noticing the portraits were all awake this evening and watching him closely.

"I want you to learn to Apparate and Disapparate as soon as possible. Even though missing the Hogwarts Express was caused by innocent circumstances, it made me realize that you need to be able to travel quickly. We can't have you so alone again."

"Ginny was with me." This over-concern for his safety was starting to irritate him. They had done just fine, in his opinion.

"I'm glad she was," he replied looking at Harry with his bright blue eyes. "I'm glad you didn't have to spend time in Sirius's house alone."

Harry wondered if he should put up the Occlumency barriers, and then realized that Dumbledore would never betray his privacy like that. He could trust him not to probe. Besides he probably got quite the story from Phineas, Harry thought. He glanced at the portrait. Phineas raised his eyebrows but said nothing.

"Sir, I-" Harry didn't know how to go on. He wanted to apologize for losing his temper, but he didn't want to apologize for how he felt at the time.

Dumbledore held up his hand. "You shouldn't apologize or explain away grief, Harry. Like I said, I have plenty of possessions. I am very grateful you have forgiven me and still feel you can trust me after the mistakes I made."

"Professor-"

"Let's say no more, unless there is something you feel you need to say?"

"I just-I just want to know--how much danger am I in exactly? And how soon will I have to meet Voldemort-do you think?" There he had said it. He was finally voicing the worries he couldn't tell Ron and Hermione, or even Ginny for that matter-since they didn't know the answers any more than he did. Surely Dumbledore could tell him something.

Dumbledore sighed. "I don't know, to tell you the truth. We've been working overtime to keep the known Death Eaters in prison. Voldemort is not likely to make a move until he has enough followers. I'm sure recruiting is going on as we speak. Luckily, he still doesn't know the end of the prophecy, so I don't think you are his first priority right now. But I could be wrong. Have you had any more dreams connecting you?"

"No."

He nodded. "Harry, I want you to have a way to leave Hogwarts. As you know, you can't Apparate or Disapparate from the Hogwarts grounds. Only House Elves, Goblins, and a few magical creatures can do such a thing. Yet when the Minister of Magic was going to arrest me, I was able to Apparate with Fawkes. I used his magic."

"Sir?"

"Fawkes was able to Apparate with me because I was small enough to carry."

Harry didn't remember Dumbledore becoming tiny-he just remembered that he disappeared.

"Oh, I was still here-you just couldn't see me. My form had dissolved into something small enough for Fawkes to carry. It is somewhat advanced magic, but since you mastered the Patronus Charm in your third year, I have complete faith in your ability to perform and sustain the Chrysalis Charm."

"Chrysalis Charm," he repeated, not sure what it was exactly. What do you mean by your form dissolving?"

"When your body dissolves."

"Then what's left?" Harry asked, trying not to imagine his body melting away in a shimmer of air.

"Your essence."

"What is my essence?"

"That is something only you can know," Dumbledore leaned forward, "something only you can discover."

His confusion must have shown on his face, because Dumbledore continued. "Harry, do you know what a chrysalis is?"

"Um . . . something like a cocoon and out of it comes a butterfly or moth or something."

"Exactly. This Chrysalis Charm creates one around you-but it is not just your body which changes-that is an easy metamorphoses. Over time you will see how your spirit evolves as well."

"My spirit?"

"Just another way to talk about your essence."

Harry was thinking furiously. "How will this help me leave Hogwarts?"

"Your owl-Hedwig is it?"

"Yes."

"She will have to be trained to pick up the chrysalis and transport you where you need to go. Can she Apparate?"

"I don't know."

"We'll find out. Even if she can't, she can fly you to a safe place where you can Apparate."

"How big will I be? I mean how big will the chrysalis be?"

Harry asked, hoping he wasn't going to bug-sized and squashable.

"At first, probably about the size or your thumb-later on, no bigger than a seed. Your chrysalis will be black at first and then green and then white and if you are sufficiently evolved-red."

"Professor, this isn't just about a way to leave Hogwarts is it?"

Dumbledore looked at him with his clear, candid gaze, and then said gravely. "No, it's not. It's also about knowing who you really are and who you are becoming-this, I think, will be necessary in your fight with Voldemort."

Harry nodded-now it made sense. He squared his shoulders, hoping this wasn't going to be as harrowing as learning the Patronus Charm.

"At first, you will come to know what it is that has always been with you-what you have inherited, if you will. It is like the base stage in alchemy. You know from your Potions study about the basic steps of alchemy?

Harry nodded again-Snape had scared that knowledge into them their first year.

Dumbledore told him the incantation. Harry repeated it. He felt a tight constriction in his chest, as if a fist was squeezing his heart. A thick obscuring fog rose before his eyes. Then he heard, He looks just like James, except he has Lily's eyes.

No, he thought, I don't want to dissolve-that is all I have of my parents. The magic left him and the fog cleared.

"Harry?"

"I-I'm sorry. I couldn't do it. All I could think about was that I would lose what I have left of my parents."

"I think you'll find that there is plenty you have inherited from them besides your appearance. Remember your Patronus."

Harry tried again. He recited the incantation, concentrating on his mother, wondering what he could have possibly inherited from her. A dark smoky mist was swirling all around him. He heard her voice, but it wasn't screaming this time; it was soft and full of wonder. Oh, I love it because you gave it to me. I'll keep it forever.

He was overwhelmed at hearing his mother's voice. It felt so familiar. If she had lived, he would have brought her the childish crafts he had clumsily made in school: the lopsided valentines, the tissue paper flowers. He remembered the red paper heart Dudley had ripped on the way home. His mother wouldn't have thrown it in the bin like Aunt Petunia had done, she would have smiled in delight and said, I love it because you gave it to me.

The pressure on his chest was suffocating, as his mind struggled to understand. That incident had never happened, yet it came to him fully realized. He was both the child and the one who loved the child. How could that be? Then he realized what he had inherited from his mother. Didn't he keep all of his birthday cards and every Christmas present he had ever received? You are a sentimental pack rat, Ginny had said when she saw his room.

With that thought, he pushed the magic away. He couldn't breath anymore.

"Harry?"

Chest heaving, he swallowed and took a deep breath. He wasn't ready to talk. "I-I just realized something-about my Mum-and me too."

"I think you've done enough for one lesson. You created a chrysalis. Did you feel your body dissolve?"

He shook his head. He hadn't felt any loss at all-in fact all he had felt was a pain in his chest.

After leaving Dumbledore's office, Harry went to directly to bed. He felt open and sad and happy all at once. For the first time he knew his mother--knew her vulnerabilities--because they were his as well. And because he knew her, he could love her as a person-not just the idea of her.

He had never liked that part of himself-that "swotty, nancy boy" side that Uncle Vernon was so quick to point out and ridicule. Having a heart so easily touched by another was not a trait to cultivate in the Dursley house. He had never said those words to anyone, but now in his mind he said them to his mother, who had gifted him with a lopsided heart, easily torn: I love it because you gave it to me. I'll keep it forever.

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Chapter 4: Lunch

A/N Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish and Julu for the beta reads. And thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far!

Chapter Three: Lunch

Harry didn't tell Ginny about his lesson with Dumbledore, or about Ron's encounter with Theodore Nott, the next day at lunch. He still didn't understand what it all meant, and he didn't want to bring up something that important during their rushed meals. He was reminded of Ron's encounter a few weeks later, however, when Luna Lovegood joined them for lunch.

Not that Harry really minded. Luna was Ginny's friend, and in a strange way, his as well. Her sporadic visits were bound to be interesting, so Harry only shrugged in resignation when he saw her making her way over from the Ravenclaw table, her golden butterfly earrings winking in the sunlight from the enchanted ceiling. She began the conversation with no preamble. "Did you know that Theodore Nott's mother is dead?"

Harry didn't know that. He looked at Ginny, who wore a sympathetic frown.

"Now that his father is in prison--he's all alone." Luna looked up at the ceiling, squinting against the clear light of the noon hour.

They sat in silence.

Really, Harry thought, what could you say to such an announcement: too bad, now pass the salt?

Luna looked unblinkingly from Harry to Ginny. "Do you think a plant can live without water and sun?"

"Well--" Ginny started.

Luna's butterflies quivered a little as she leaned forward. "Because a plant has to have water, sun and earth. Theoretically it can live without one, but not without two." Ginny looked at her helplessly.

"Theodore Nott-not only is his father in prison, but all of Slytherin house hates him since they don't want to be associated with known Death Eaters."

Harry remembered Luna looking for her things last year at the end of term. No wonder she felt sympathy for Nott.

"What can we possibly do?" Ginny asked.

"Sometimes even a drop of water can make a difference," Luna replied, before dipping her spoon into her soup.

Harry looked over at the Slytherin table, which wasn't as crowded this year. Nott was sitting away from the rest, his eyes never leaving his plate. It didn't seem possible that they could help Theodore Nott-even so Harry thought, he must be the loneliest person at Hogwarts.

*

"Professor-do I really go into a chrysalis?" Harry asked at the end of one of his private lessons.

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "Yes, you do. Couldn't you tell when you were flying with Hedwig?"

Hedwig hooted at the sound of her name.

"Yes-" He hesitated. "I mean I had the sensation of flying-but I always feel a pain in my chest. If my body is dissolved, why does my chest hurt?"

"Where do you think the essence of you is located?"

"I don't know. I guess at the center of things."

Dumbledore smiled approvingly. "That's a very good way to put it. Some say it's the heart-not as the physical muscle-but as the center of yourself."

"But-" Harry hesitated again, since this made no sense whatsoever. "But how can this center be so vast?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I see you've stumbled on one of the mysteries of the heart."

Harry waited for an explanation.

"Ah." Dumbledore spread his hands. "Only a poet or a madman would try to explain the unexplainable.

After a thoughtful silence, Harry blurted out another question. "What about? What about these colors? Is my chrysalis still black?"

"Yes it is, and heavy too-like lead. That will change-if you have the courage."

"What do you mean, courage?" Harry asked, fear clutching all of a sudden at his stomach.

"The next stage is to confront actions from the past." Dumbledore leaned forward. "Those you have done, and those which has been done to you." He looked at Harry with his keen blue gaze. "You know, of course, that it means you will have to re-live some unpleasantness?"

"Yeah," Harry said; dread filled his throat like a lump.

"When you are ready, of course. We still have a lot of training to do with Hedwig."

*

"Hi, I'm late because Snape wanted to finish his lecture on dissolving agents." Ginny said a little breathlessly as she sat in her usual spot across from Harry. She looked at the bowl in front of her. "Soup again?"

"Yeah, it's easier to make-just brew up a big cauldron full and ladle it out. Doesn't take as many elves."

"Did Hermione give them that idea?" Ginny asked picking up her spoon.

"How did you guess?" He laughed. "She's having a hard time being an objective, disengaged researcher. But it was a good idea. Now the elves are free at lunch to get other work done."

Ginny frowned. "Don't they do anything for fun?"

"That is their fun, as near as we can tell."

She giggled. "I think I should introduce them to Days of Destiny."

"You could pipe it into the cellar, but I don't think they could handle it. They're pretty conservative, you know."

"Really?" She looked up in surprise.

"Yeah-they're concerned about their work first, who they serve next, and then their own little families. I don't think they would approve of all the choices the characters make."

Harry pushed his dishes aside, and leaned on his elbow, thinking how lunch with Ginny was such a nice break. "So what's happening to ol' Roderick and Fiona now?"

"Well he survived the broom crash in the desert, but he can't Disapparate because he's on Lord Lyle's land."

"Don't tell me-Lord Lyle is his arch-enemy."

"How did you know?"

"Lucky guess. What about Fiona?"

"She's offered herself as a hostage to Lord Lyle in exchange for his freeing a group of school children."

"Where did he get the children? They were just wondering around in the desert?"

"I don't know." Ginny frowned. "I missed that episode. I only listen on Mondays and Fridays. Diane fills me in on the other."

"How's the diet going? She must be going crazy trying to divide soup."

"She has a new one now." She grinned. "Colors."

"Colors?"

"Yeah, you only eat one color per meal. Like if it is a green meal you can eat the cabbage and the peas. But no white-ever."

"But-what about potatoes and buns and biscuits?"

"Nope."

"Can't you try to talk her out this? She looks fine. She only has one chin, unlike my cousin Dudley."

Ginny waved that away. "Oh, it's a control thing. It's what she does well."

"Maybe she should get out more-play some Quidditch."

"Did you hear?" Her eyes gleamed. " I made Chaser."

"I heard," he said, noticing that her cheeks had gone a little pinker. "And I saw you practicing yesterday afternoon. Who's the other one?"

"Jeanne."

"Jeanne? Mr. Boots Jeanne?"

"Yes-and she's good. With more practice we should be able to score some points."

"You know, I noticed she's a good Quaffle handler, but her flying . . ."

Ginny sighed. "I know, Katie said the same thing. For some reason, Jeanne only likes to fly in straight lines. It's great for Katie and me-I mean, we always know where she's going to be."

"So will the Bludgers," Harry said.

"I reckon you'll have to watch out for her then." It was not a request.

"Ok," he said in a resigned tone. "I'll do my best between watching for the Snitch and trying not to be distracted by you."

She blushed. "You won't be distracted by me."

"I probably will," he said, realizing for the first time that having Ginny on the Pitch with him was going to be a novel experience. "I've never played Qudditch with you before."

"I'll just be a another nameless, faceless teammate, Harry. Come on, mind over matter."

He only smiled at her. A long time ago, the first time he ever saw her, she had been nameless. But even at eleven he had noticed her face, noticed her. No, he thought, she was going to be hard to ignore, even during a match.

Ginny frowned at him and then her face cleared. "At least our first match is against Slytherin."

We're going to slaughter them," he said with relish.

"Harry! You shouldn't rub their faces in it. They lost most of their veteran players."

"I just want to rub Snape's face in it." He noticed her look of disapproval with annoyance. "Don't think they're ickle innocent first year players-they're Slytherins-they'll find a way to hold their own."

"You really hate him don't you?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably-it wasn't a happy thing to admit you hated someone.

Ginny continued. "I couldn't believe how nasty he was to you when we took the Portkey on the first day. He's never very pleasant in class, but he isn't like that to anyone in our year."

"Really?" He couldn't imagine a fair and balanced Snape. "It's not just me-he's mean to Neville, especially."

"Neville? Why? He's so sweet."

He wasn't sure if he liked the affectionate tone Ginny used. "I thought that was my word."

"It is your word-to me at least." She smiled at him and shrugged. "Neville is sweet to everyone."

"And I'm not?" He was joking, but not really. Somehow he didn't want to hear Ginny praising any other blokes-even if it was Neville.

"Hmm-I think I just heard the words 'we're going to slaughter them' coming out of your mouth. That doesn't sound too sweet to me."

"True-you don't win at Quidditch by being sweet," he said a bit defensively.

"No you don't." She rolled her eyes. "You win by constant practice as Katie keeps drilling into our heads."

Rose hurried over. "Ginny! I've been trying to get your attention for the last five minutes. Remember we're supposed to go early to Transfiguration to pick out our hedgehogs?"

"Oh, I completely forgot!" She looked apologetically at Harry. "I have to go."

Some of his dismay must have showed on his face because she hastened to reassure him. "I'll come over and see you at supper. Ok?" Then she leaned over and whispered into his ear, "sweetie."

He smiled; he knew what she was trying to tell him. He just wished she could tell him that in other ways. Since that time outside of the greenhouses, he hadn't kissed her once. He sighed and again counted the days until the first Hogsmeade weekend.

*

It was the Friday before Hogsmeade and Harry was in a good mood. Fridays were always interesting because this was the day the Ministry Aurors came in to teach the hands-on stuff. All four houses of each year took the class together. Every week the instructor was different.

As they made their way to Great Hall with the rest of the sixth years, Ron and Seamus speculated about whom the teacher might be today.

"I heard it was going to be the female Auror who can change her appearance."

"Tonks you mean," Ron said. "Yeah she would be good."

"Well, she'd be easier on the eye than that Moody bloke," Seamus mused.

"I hardly think appearances are a good way to judge a teacher," Hermione said hotly. "Moody knew what he was doing."

"Oh, please Hermione," Ron said, "you didn't have any trouble learning from the best smile winner back in our second year."

Harry could sense that this was going to turn into a bigger argument than necessary, so he was glad to have something to distract them with. "Hey-guess who it is! It's Professor Lupin!"

The students were genuinely happy to see their former professor again, as he had been a very popular teacher. There were a few who hung back, probably remembering every tall-tale they had heard about werewolves, but for the most part it was an eager group who gathered there.

"But he doesn't work for the Ministry," Hermione murmured.

"Oh, you know Dumbledore," I'm sure he just went ahead and hired him. "Maybe the Aurors are busy dismantling Malfoy's house or something," Ron said.

Professor Lupin looked just as happy to be back as his students. He immediately plunged into a demonstration of Shield Charms, and then instructed the class to divide into pairs.

"Harry, could you help me? I'd like you to watch the groups on that side of the Hall. Make sure the shields are large enough to deflect the spell from head to toe."

Then he said to the class, "The hex is the Full-Body Bind. Remember to draw your wand all the way around you when saying the incantation for the shield."

Harry made his way over to the Ravenclaw and Slytherin pairs. Padma Patil and a Ravenclaw girl with curly red hair were practicing. He couldn't help but think how much prettier Ginny's hair was . . .

A hard thud brought him out of his reverie. Michael Corner and Anthony Goldstein were having difficulties. Anthony had forgotten to cover his feet in the spell. The effect of the invisible bindings caused him to trip and fall. Harry gave him a hand up and offered some suggestions. Michael Corner was laughing at Anthony and appeared to be having a good time. Harry marveled at how Michael could be happy after having Ginny break up with him.

Eventually he had to make his way to the Slytherins. Umbridge's abysmal teaching last year had not helped this group. All the DA members were noticeably better than their counter-parts.

Theodore Nott was paired with a boy Harry didn't know. The boy obviously had little love for Nott since he didn't wait for his partner to get ready before waving his wand.

"Um-Nott is it? Try the motion in the middle of the incantation instead of the end-it will work and will be that much quicker."

Nott nodded and tried it that way. His shield was up before his partner could spit out the words of his hex.

Harry saw that Nott almost smiled at this small success. He looked at Harry and said, "I'm better at attack spells."

Harry shrugged, not knowing what to say. Nott probably was better at attacking, he just hoped that he wanted to defend against the Dark Arts, not use them.

He happened to glance over at Pansy Parkinson who was watching them with a look of pure venom on her face. She caught his eye, smirked, and then hurtled a strange hex at her partner. Harry knew it wasn't the Full-Body Bind, but the orange glow it cast on her partner's shield wasn't anything he could identify.

Feeling strangely disconcerted, he made his way back to Ron and Hermione, passing the Hufflepuffs along the way. He was glad to see that Ernie was no longer waving his wand with unnecessary flourishes, and that Hannah Abbot was calmly and confidently holding her own against Zacharias Smith--unlike Hermione.

Harry was surprised to see her flinch every time Ron threw a spell at her. Her Shield Charm deflected every hex in the best textbook manner, yet she was shaking by the end of her turn.

Ron smiled and nodded at her. "See, your shield was perfect. You won't get hurt again, Hermione."

She was gripping her wand so tightly, her knuckles were white. "No, I won't," she said in a determined voice.

Harry felt a stab of guilt. She was scared-because of him. He took a deep breath, trying to push those thoughts away. His guilt wouldn't change the past or give Hermione the courage to face another fight. Instead he called, "Good shield, Hermione."

She gave a pleased smile and seemed to relax a bit. Something twisted inside of him. Hermione never thought of herself as brave, but here she was--trying her best to ready herself for combat-even after such a terrible experience at the Department of Mysteries.

He looked around at all his classmates and realized anew how these skills could mean life or death. Before he could feel overwhelmed, he heard Professor's Lupin's sure, calm voice, calling the class back to order. If anyone could help them, it was his former teacher-and Harry was glad that the responsibility for teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts wasn't his anymore.

The class flew by. Professor Lupin managed to cover three more spells before the bell rang for dismissal. As the excited crowd left the Great Hall, Ron said to him quietly, "I saw you helped Nott."

"Yeah."

"Do you ever wonder why he's here and not Durmstrang?"

"Yeah-I hope it's the right reason," Harry answered with a chill.

"So do I-I'd hate to think you and Lupin helped train the next generation of Death Eaters."

"Well, I don't think his housemates are going to let him get away with anything," he said, wondering which side Pansy Parkinson was on.

"Yeah," Ron said, "I never thought I'd see the day when I was glad that Slytherins are out for themselves."

*

He caught sight of her red hair as he was leaving the Great Hall. "Catch up with you later," he said to Ron and Hermione. Hurrying down the corridor and turning left into a group of indignant third year girls, he managed to keep her in sight.

"Hey," he said when he finally caught up with her, "can I carry your books?"

Ginny looked up in surprise, and said, "Oh, a man servant--how convenient."

"But where have you been all afternoon?" she asked as she dumped a pile of spell books in his arms. "I've had to carry these around in my lily-white hands all the way from the library."

"Sorry, Miss Gold-digger-I mean . . ."

"You know, I'm starting to see the benefits of gold-digging." She giggled.

"Where are you going?"

"O.W.L. study group-that's why I have all these books."

"Wish I could go with you."

"Sure, Harry just take your O.W.L.s all over again."

"No-I didn't mean that." He felt a little foolish. "I just wanted to see you."

She stopped so that everyone else in the corridor had to veer around them. "I know-lunch goes by so fast." She looked up wistfully at him. Then she frowned. "It's too bad about Hogsmeade . . ."

"What?"

"Yes," she said vaguely, continuing to walk to her classroom, " some fellow asked me back in July to go with him. Wish I could remember who he was . . ."

"You should write these things down," he said, grinning in relief.

"I'll just check the name in the jumper."

"You do that," he said, handing her books back. She didn't answer him, but threw him a smile over her shoulder as she went through the door.

After standing outside the classroom for several minutes with a stupid grin on his face, Harry decided that no Stunning Spell yet devised was as effective as that smile.

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Chapter 5: Finally, Hogsmeade

A heart-felt thank you to Jo Wickaninnish for reading this over too many times, to Julu for helping me figure out Hermione, and finally to Nic83 for the Brit picking. And thanks to everyone who has been along with me for the ride. It seems a long time ago since Harry invited Ginny to Hogsmeade.

Chapter Four: Finally, Hogsmeade

Harry waited with the other students queuing for the first trip of the year to Hogsmeade. It was finally here, a whole day with Ginny. Finally a day to wile away. Finally a chance to kiss her again.

It worried him a little - that overwhelming urge to touch her when they talked, or to lean over the table and kiss her. Only the thought of becoming the Roger Davies of Gryffindor held him in check, that, and the thought that maybe Ginny wouldn't want that much attention either.

"Hi." Ginny was at his elbow, smiling, bright-eyed and looking very pretty. She had curled the ends of her hair and had swept two locks of it in clasps on each side of her head.

"Hi," he said, taking her hand. While most students didn't hold hands in the corridors of Hogwarts, he was glad they all did going to Hogsmeade.

He had to let go when she signed her name on the list. Something about her signature looked odd to him. "I didn't know that was your name."

"What did you think it was?"

"I dunno - I never thought about it. What's your middle name?"

"Molly."

"Oh." He took her hand again.

They were outside now, walking down the path toward the lake which reflected the deep blue of the sky.

"Don't you like it?"

"What?"

"My name."

He squeezed her hand. "You've always been Ginny to me." He had said that the first time he kissed her. He wondered if she remembered. She squeezed his hand back, not saying anything.

It was one of those warm autumn days, which harkened back to summer - except for the light. Everything was more intensely colored: the blue of the sky, the vivid green of the grass. The shadows were darker and more precisely cut.

They walked down High Street, pausing to look at the window displays. Ginny didn't want to shop, however. "It's too nice of a day. Everything inside seems dark and gloomy after being outside."

"I don't need to shop," he replied.

"Oh, good. Let's go to the park."

"Park?"

"Yes, there's a play park, just down this street."

"Are we going to borrow a couple of children so we can go there?"

"It's not gated. Come on," she said tugging on his hand.

Harry had never been to this part of Hogsmeade. Cozy stone houses, most of them one-story were set in tidy gardens. The trees arching across the road were starting to turn color. Within a week this walk would be a blaze of red, gold and orange. Change was in the air.

"Which house do you like the best?"

"Oh, I dunno." Harry looked around. "They all look good. Maybe that one."

It was small with a peaked roof. There was a curved door set in the center, with two mullioned windows flanking it.

"Oh, I've always liked small houses."

"You have? What kind of gold-digger are you? Phineas would be most disappointed in you. And where are you going to keep your jumper collection?"

Ginny laughed. "In the carriage house in the back garden, silly."

"You need to dream bigger."

"Bigger isn't always better-think how long it would take to wallpaper a manor house."

"You don't do it - your minions bow to your wishes."

"I think one man servant is all I need," she said with a glint in her eye.

*

The park was deserted. Ginny went to a swing. "Push me."

"Push you? Isn't this a magical play park? Shouldn't the swings push themselves or wipe noses or something?"

"Underage magic, remember? Come on, give me a push."

He pulled the swing back and let it go.

"Higher!"

Harry was enjoying the sight of Ginny soaring through the air. The contrast between her red hair and the blue sky was dazzling. He was very aware of his hands touching the tantalizing curve from waist to hip as he continued to push her.

She looked over her shoulder at him and laughed. He could feel her delight somewhere in the pit of his stomach. When she came back to him, he grabbed the swing by the chains and didn't let go.

"Hey!" she protested.

He twisted the chain so she was facing him.

"Why should you get all the fun?"

"I want to swing some more!"

The swing dumped her on to the ground. "No whining!" said a voice.

He laughed and helped Ginny to her feet. "I now see how this play park is different from the Muggle's."

Ginny giggled. "Let's go to the roundy-round."

"The what?"

"You know, the merry-go-round thing."

"Oh, we always called it a roundabout. You have to push me this time."

"I'll make you dizzy," she warned. "Fred could never stay on more than two minutes."

"If you stay at the center, you don't as get dizzy."

"Really? Let's test that theory."

Harry sat with his back to the center pole. "Do your worst."

Ginny grabbed the bars and pushed as she walked the perimeter. Once the roundabout started gaining momentum, she ran until it was going too fast to keep pace.

Harry watched the play park whirl around him. First Ginny, then the slide, then the street, then the swings, then Ginny again.

"Hop on!" he called.

Ginny watched the roundabout, judging when to jump between the bars and land safely.

With a laugh she leapt, with great accuracy, right on top of Harry.

After the initial shock, which knocked the breath out of him, he put his arms around her, pleasantly aware of her soft weight and the unfamiliar curves of her body. He could see the faint dusting of freckles across her nose and how the tips of her lashes were a little lighter that then the rest. Her hair fell around them like a bright curtain when she moved to kiss him.

Whether it was the kiss, or her nearness, or the residual motion of the roundabout, Harry's mind reeled.

"It is better at the center," she said shakily. "But I'm still a little dizzy."

"We'd better hang on to each other then." He ran his hands down her back, feeling her softness.

The roundabout slowed to a gentle stop.

Sometime later, a shrill voice, pierced the quiet. "Mummy! There's big kids here kissing!"

Startled, they broke apart.

A sturdy, brown-eyed tyke with a funny cowlick was staring at them disapprovingly.

"Hello," Ginny said.

He turned and ran to his mother.

"We should go," Ginny said. "We don't want to corrupt the youth of Hogsmeade. Although," she added thoughtfully, "he didn't look too impressed."

"I'm impressed," he assured her, "very impressed."

As they walked back under the canopy of trees to High Street, Harry asked, "How do you like your trip to Hogsmeade so far?"

"I like it, especially the kissing part that makes your head spin."

"I liked when you landed on top of me."

"Is there an eating part? I'm starving."

"Don't let the swing set hear you whine like that." He smiled down at her. "Yes, there's an eating part. I'm hungry too."

*

They went to the Three Broomsticks, which was crowded as usual. Harry spied Ron with his back to the door, sitting with Hermione by the fireplace. "Should we join them?"

"There's only one seat," Ginny pointed out.

"You can sit with me." They squeezed together across the table from Ron and Hermione who were absorbed in a book catalogue.

"What are you looking for?" Ginny asked.

"I want to get my Dad an introductory book about Quidditch. He hears me talk about it all the time, and wants to know more."

"What about Quidditch Through the Ages?" Harry suggested.

Ron shook his head. "I told Hermione he needs something with more pictures. Since he's never seen a match, it might be difficult for him to visualize. I know." He started flipping pages in the catalogue. "This book - I loved it when I was a kid."

"Ron-that's a children's book."

"It's very detailed - see." Ron tapped the picture with his wand and made the small book open up and reveal its pages.

"Oh, I didn't know you could do that," Hermione exclaimed. She leaned closer to the catalogue to look at the tiny pages. In her enthusiasm she didn't notice that she was practically sitting in Ron's lap, and that the top of her hair was brushing Ron's chin. Ron noticed, however. He turned a little red, but didn't move away.

"Oh, look - there's that wonky faint thingy." Hermione pointed at an illustration.

Ron smiled and said in an indulgent tone, "Wronski Feint. I think I should get this book for you, Hermione, never mind your dad."

Hermione looked up at that point and seemed to realize how close she was to Ron. She quickly sat back in her chair. "Well, I'll think about it. I have time. It's a whole month until his birthday." She looked at Harry and Ginny. "So what have you two been doing?"

Harry felt the heat rise in his face at Hermione's curious stare. But Ginny answered cooly enough, "We went to the play park. It was too nice a day to shop."

Ron smiled knowingly. "Drove the children away did you?"

"They drove us away, actually," Harry answered. "So what's to eat? I'm starving."

While they were waiting for their food, Harry looked around the room. He saw several DA members. The Hufflepuffs were at the large table in the center of the room. Justin, Susan, Ernie, Hannah, and Zacharias were halfway through their meal.

Cho and Michael were sitting by the front window, engrossed in each other. He wondered what Ginny thought of that relationship; he had never asked her. "Hey," he said in her ear, "by the window - is that a Days of Destiny scenario or what?"

Ginny looked over at Michael and Cho and smiled. "You laugh, but there was a storyline like that, where the exes paired off - although I never thought things like that happened in real life."

Dean, Katie, and Seamus were lined up at the bar, their backs to the door. Neville was sitting at a small table with Rose. "I didn't know Neville was going out with Rose."

Hermione answered him this time. "Oh I don't know as if they're going out. Neville is good about just staying friends with girls. He so sweet that way."

Ginny nudged his ankle. Neville again, he thought sourly.

Ron had the same sentiment on his face. He looked as if he was going to open his mouth to say something scathing about Neville, or perhaps how pointless it was to be just friends with a girl, when he abruptly shut it again.

Ginny nudged his ankle again. Harry tried to hide his smile. Ron certainly was learning to keep the peace.

The peace lasted until their waitress brought them lunch.

"At last, no soup," Ron said, looking with anticipation at his heaping platter of fish and chips.

"Ron! You know why we have soup everyday! You shouldn't complain," Hermione said.

"I know why, Hermione," Ron said, sprinkling vinegar on his chips. "I was there when you talked Happy into it. That doesn't mean I can't be glad to eat something else for a change." He looked pointedly at Hermione's plate of curry. "I see you didn't order soup."

"Who's Happy?" Ginny asked quickly.

"He's the head cook," Hermione said.

"Yeah," Harry added, "and like all cooks, he's about as irritable as they come."

Ron laughed through a mouthful of chips. "A right proper name for 'im -Happy."

"Oh, Ron, he can't help it if he is stressed - trying to make three meals a day for a thousand students."

"He loves it, don't kid yourself. He loves to lord it over the other elves."

Hermione speared a piece of chicken out of her curry. "He does, doesn't he? I never dreamed the house elves would have such a pecking order. I thought they had more of an egalitarian culture."

"See you are learning something new about the elves, Hermione," Ron said. "No eagles."

"That's not what egali-" She stopped and then smiled at him. "Right-no eagles."

Ron smiled back at her. Ginny pressed Harry's foot again. He wanted to laugh. Ron and Hermione were certainly doing their best imitation of flirting, and he wasn't the only one to notice. Knowing Ron wouldn't appreciate any mention of this, Harry distracted himself by looking abound the room again. He idly noticed that there were several teenagers he didn't recognize scattered at different tables. They stood out because they were wearing black wizard robes while most of the Hogwarts students wore Muggle clothes as a break from their uniforms.

He shifted on the bench and realized that he was practically pushing Ginny off. He put his arm around her waist to steady her, and realized that he was touching that wonderful curve he had notice while she was swinging. This sent such a shock through him, that he wondered why the entire pub wasn't looking at him in amusement.

Ginny wriggled closer to him in response. He glanced at her. She looked a bit rosier, but she continued to talk to Hermione as if nothing had happened.

Dean and Seamus pushed away from the bar, getting ready to leave. Then Theodore Nott walked through the door with Luna close behind him. Harry couldn't decide if they were together or Luna just happened to turn up at the same time as Nott. Several of the strangers in black robes stood. There were at least ten of them scattered at positions throughout the pub.

Odd, Harry thought, a split second before they attacked.

*

Jets of red shot out to their wands as they yelled "Stupefy!" One hit Dean right in the chest. People were overturning chairs in their panic. Never taking his eyes off of the attackers, Harry pushed Ginny off of the bench onto the floor, took out his wand and started toward them. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ron standing in front of Hermione, blocking the incoming hexes.

The air crackled with fear and fury. The room was so brightly lit by the light of the spells, Harry had to squint to see properly.

Susan and Ernie got the stranger closest to them with the full-body bind. Cho or Michael, Harry wasn't sure who, got Dean's attacker in the back. The mirror over the bar shattered. One of the strangers was blasted through the window, sending shards of glass everywhere.

Hermione, crawling on her hands and knees, lead a group of hysterical third years to the relative safety behind the bar. He could hear her vanishing the glass from the mirror in a shaking voice.

Ron had somehow gotten over to the other side of the room behind a tall stranger who was hexing a terrified table of girls one by one. He caught Harry's eye, and they combined their spells to stun him in mid-curse. The attacker froze with the cruel smile still on his face and then fell across the table with a loud crash.

Theodore Nott, still at the front door, was blocking the only way out. As the remaining attackers saw that they were losing the fight, they attempted to blast their way past him. His Shield Charm held them off. Luna, still behind him, sent scattershot curses over his shoulder and managed to injure two of the strangers.

Harry and Ron approached from one direction, Seamus and Neville from the other. The remaining three attackers were surrounded and outnumbered. They dropped their wands and exclaimed something in a language Harry had never heard.

All went quiet except for some muffled sobbing and the various groans coming from the injured. Harry was surprised to feel his hands shaking. He wondered where Ginny and Hermione were but he didn't dare take his eyes off of the strangers.

At that point Ministry Aurors Apparated in. One of them shouted, "Don't leave the pub! The streets could be crawling with Dementors."

They proceeded to bind the attackers and placed them in the corner with three Aurors standing guard.

Flames exploded in the fireplaces. Healers from St. Mungo's rushed to the injured.

He was relieved to see Ginny picking her way over to him. She had lost a hair clasp so one side hung down wildly, getting into her eyes. She kept trying to shove it out of the way. The first words out of her mouth were panicked. "What about that little boy and his mum at the play park?"

Harry had a sudden vision of that little boy surrounded by Dementors with his mother unable to help.

He looked around automatically for Ron and Hermione.

"Harry?"

"Do you think they're still there?"

"I hope not,"Ginny said, stricken.

"Let's ask one of the Aurors to check it out."

"No time, lad," one of the guards said impatiently as another was reading out loud from a foreign language phrase book. "Our first priority is to obtain intelligence." Then he roared in the general direction of the fireplace, "Where the hell is that Vertiserum?"

Harry ran his hand through his hair, wondering where Ron and Hermione had gone.

"Hermione went behind the bar. On the other side of it is the kitchen," Ginny said as if reading his mind. "Maybe that's where they went."

Harry ran past the now quiet third years huddled behind the bar. The kitchen was empty, but a cauldron still simmered over the fire. "There." Ginny pointed to the open storeroom door.

Hermione was there looking pale and shaken. Ron was talking quietly to her, bending so only she could hear.

Harry quickly explained about the little boy and the Dementors to Ron, but Hermione interrupted before Ron could say anything. "I can't believe you!" She stared at him for a moment. "After the Department of Mysteries? After that attack we just lived through?" Her voice became more shrill. "And you're going to go out and look for more?"

Harry had never seen her so agitated. Guilt churned in his stomach.

"He didn't say he was going," Ginny said. "He's trying to find a way to help that little boy. Even if it is dangerous - going to help that little boy is the right thing to do."

Hermione rounded on her. "Don't push him to be the hero. He needs someone to remind him of the risks - even if it is the right thing to do."

"I think Harry can decides what he needs," she said, color rising in her face.

"They'll be all right," Ron tried to say reassuringly, but Hermione turned to him angrily.

"How can you say that? You don't know that!" Her fists were clenched. Harry noticed for the first time that her sleeve was torn.

"We don't know a lot of things," Ginny cut in, "but sometimes we still have to act."

"No you don't! You don't have to act! You can stay here and be safe, that's all that matters!"

"Hermione, if that was all Harry was worried about, his own safety - I would be dead." Ginny's voice broke. "Sometimes you have to do things you can't explain logically."

With that Ginny stormed to the back door and yanked it open, only to find two Aurors standing guard.

"Tonks?"

"Harry? Ginny? Where are you off to?" Tonks asked with one eyebrow raised.

"The play park!" Ginny said urgently.

Harry cut in. "Tonks, can you pop over and make sure the little boy and his mum are ok? They told us Dementors are all over Hogsmeade."

The other Auror, a grizzled man with a mane of white hair, scoffed, "Bah! They just said that to keep you kiddies inside while they figure out who was behind this attack - and if there will be another."

"Sure, Harry, I'll Apparate over. Giles here will stand guard." With a pop she was gone.

Harry was relieved that the Dementor threat wasn't likely. Even though he knew it was the right thing to do, Hermione's warning still rankled. Would he ever get over this self-doubt?

He looked uneasily at Hermione's rigid back and Ginny's set face. He hoped it wouldn't take Tonks too long to check on the boy. He didn't think he could endure this tense silence much longer.

Back to index


Chapter 6: Rescues

A huge thank you to Julu who made me think about the subtext of Hermione's anger. Also thanks to hairy_hen and Nic83 who also gave me their two knuts about Hermione. And finally, thank you to Jo Wickaninnish who keeps my commas in line.

Chapter Five: Rescues

Harry sat on the floor of the storeroom waiting for Tonks to return. He hadn't said a word since Hermione's furious warning about acting recklessly. Ginny was pacing in front of the open backdoor, her arms crossed in front of her.

Ron was watching Hermione and Ginny with a worried look on his face. Their angry words hung in the air, as palatable as the dust of the wreckage of the pub.

Giles, the Auror, kept peeking in at them curiously from the door.

The tension was broken when Tonks Apparated back from the play park. "Your little boy is safe and sound. Name's Bruce. I went to school with Bruce's mum, so we had a little chat. Seems you two have been snogging all over Hogsmeade."

Embarrassed, Harry glanced at Ginny's impassive face. That interlude at the park seemed a lifetime ago.

"You're going to have to find some better places for your - er - extra-curricular activities. I'll have to tell you some good spots at Hogwarts."

"You can't go corrupting the students, Missy. They don't need any more ideas," Giles said, not bothering to hide his eavesdropping.

She waved him away. "They're corrupting each other. Still - it's good they managed to notice that little boy, considering how busy they've been."

Ron was thinking ahead. "Do you think they'll ever lets us come back to Hogsmeade?"

"I don't know. Probably - if you can get a permission slip signed. I don't know how many parents will be keen, though." She shrugged. "These attackers weren't very skillful. I'd say they're new recruits, sent here to terrorize more than anything. I'm sure they'll have new security measures up. You can't stay in the castle all winter. Although, it could be cozy with the right person." She winked at Harry, and then turned to Giles. "Have they given the all clear?"

"Yeah, looks like it was just these foreign idiots. The kiddies are safe enough to go back to school." Giles shrugged. "And it's quiet enough for us to go back to the Ministry." He shook his finger at Tonks. "You do the paperwork this time. The wife was not happy I was called out on a Saturday."

"The wife," Tonks snorted. "Think you would have bothered to learn her name, in all these years, Giles."

"Jus' sayin' it to get your attention."

"I'm not doing the paperwork alone - I have a life too." Then she added, "How do you know I don't have an impatient lover waiting for me?"

"Cause no one impatient could spend more than two hours in your presence." He rolled his eyes. "Nah - I've seen the bloke you're going round with. Disposition of an angel, I'd say."

Tonks waggled her eyebrows. "Soon to be fallen, I hope."

"Merlin help us all," Giles said, looking heavenward.

"Time to go," Tonks said. She turned to Harry and the others. "You lot should be proud. Remus told me about how well your DA group did with Shield Charms - looks like it came in handy today."

*

Once the Aurors were gone, the awkward tension returned. Harry stood up and moved toward Ginny, but Hermione's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"I hope you learned something from this, Harry."

"Like what?' he snapped.

"Like you can leave all the rescuing to the qualified people. You didn't have to do it."

He shrugged. He really didn't know what to say. Hermione should know as well as he did that often there weren't any convenient adults around, but he certainly wasn't going to argue the point now. Hermione was stretched taunt with nerves, ready to snap.

"What happens the next time?" Ginny asked Hermione in a trembling voice. He could see how angry she was, how she was spoiling for a fight. His heart sank at her tone. "What happens when Harry is called to do something and there aren't loads of Aurors ready to go? He waits around to get approval from you?"

"There won't be a next time!" Hermione said furiously. "There doesn't have to be a next time! If Harry just minds his own business, listens to Dumbledore, and follows the rules nothing bad is going to happen."

Ginny's mouth dropped open. "You really believe that? I thought you were the smart one. Look what happened today."

Ron stepped between the two of them.

But Hermione pushed past him. "I am the smart one. I was right. I told Harry not to go to the Department of Mysteries." She rubbed her arm where the sleeve was torn and said in a quieter voice. "But I wasn't smart enough was I? I listened to you two -" At this she rounded on Ron. "I was outnumbered. And we ended up in Umbridge's office instead of remembering Professor Snape." She turned back to Ginny, anguish in her voice. "And Sirius was killed. So I am going to do everything in my power from having him make another mistake!"

"But - they're his mistakes to make, Hermione - not yours."

"No, his mistakes affect all of us. So do mine." She look around at them a bit wildly. "We can't make any more mistakes!"

"But that's impossible!" Ginny protested.

"Well, let's start with the basics," she said sarcastically. "You were going to run into a street full of Dementors."

Ginny paled and bit her lip.

Hermione turned to Harry. "You'd better decide what's good for you in all of this - the stakes are a little higher than your hormones!" Then she covered her mouth, as if she just realized what she had said. She stared at him with brimming eyes and then fled the storeroom.

Ron watched her go, apprehension on his face.

Ginny asked in a small voice, "Aren't you going to say something?"

Harry couldn't think of one thing to say to comfort Ginny. His mind was reeling from the painful truths about himself. He understood the pain behind Hermione's anger - pain he had caused. And then there was Ginny. He wasn't sure why she had picked that argument with Hermione, but every second of his silence was tearing her inside. He could see that clearly.

"Ginny, I -"

She spun on her heel and was gone before he had a chance to say another word.

Harry was left with Ron. He was afraid to look at him. He didn't want to see that same look of accusation that had been on Hermione's face - they had never talked about Sirius. They had never talked about Ron's injuries for that matter.

They stood there together in the quiet storeroom. They could hear the sounds of Madam Rosemerta and others cleaning up the mess.

He wondered whose side Ron was going to take, because Ron knew both girls, Ron loved both girls. When he finally looked up and saw the look of concern on Ron's face, he realized that of all the sides Ron was going to take, he was taking the one Harry least expected: Ron was on his side.

"What should I do?" Harry said in a voice torn from his depths.

"Ginny -" Ron said, "go after her."

Some of the tightness eased in his chest. "You think? I mean everything Hermione said was true."

"It was true from her point of view," Ron said cryptically. "This attack - it was a complete surprise and brought back a lot of bad memories."

"But she did fine - she helped those third years."

"I know, I told her that too. That was about all the excitement she could take, and then you two were going to go storming off . . ."

"But we weren't -"

Ron held up a hand . "She couldn't live with the guilt if anything happened to you two - especially if she hadn't done everything in her power to stop you. Look - I'll take care of Hermione - we've talked about all this before - and I know you and Hermione will work it out in time - but I wouldn't let it go with Ginny."

Without another word, Harry bolted out of the door.

He saw her walking up the hill, her shoulders stiff, and her eyes downcast. He ran all the way up, never taking his eyes off of her, the air tearing into his aching lungs. "Ginny," he panted, "Ginny please stop. We have to talk."

She whirled around and said in a cold voice, "About what? How guilty you feel? How you are the worst person on the planet? No wait - how I'm the worst person on the planet. We haven't gotten to that one yet. Should make for a fun afternoon. No thanks, Harry." With that she put her head down, and continued climbing the path.

"Ginny - no! You're not giving me a chance."

"You're right, I'm not being fair - must be my hormones. Or is it your hormones? I'm not sure which. Ask Hermione - she'd know."

"Stop it! She didn't mean that - really." He was in front of her now. "This has nothing to do with Hermione, anyway - this is between you and me."

"You let her say those things. You didn't stand up for me," she said with a break in her voice.

"I wasn't prepared for you two to start arguing. I'm sorry-I -"

"Do you agree with what she said?" Ginny asked, looking at the ground.

"I don't know what I think." Harry ran his hand through his hair and looked around. On this high hill he could see the roofs of Hogsmeade in the distance. He took a deep breath. At least Ginny wasn't yelling anymore. "I need you to help me know what I think."

Ginny sighed. "Why me?"

"Because I trust you," he blurted out.

Seeing her push her hair back nervously made him realize what an incredible thing that was to say. She looked at him searchingly and asked in a halting voice, "Even after the mistakes I made? Because Hermione is right." She drew a deep breath. "I have made a lot of mistakes."

"I do trust you." Harry realized suddenly why he trusted her. Because of her mistakes, she understood about guilt and how to get beyond it. This was something he and Hermione were both trying to cope with. "At least you've learned something from your mistakes."

"How do you know I won't make more?" she asked, looking a little frightened. "What if Hermione's right and I mess things up for you? There is a lot at stake."

He looked into her eyes. "Then that's my mistake to make isn't it?"

She stared back for a moment and then nodded.

"Let's sit over here." Down a short path there was a clearing amidst the pines. They sat on a large, flat boulder, which was warm from the sun. Harry didn't know how to start. "Um -"

Ginny got up abruptly and started to pace.

"It's hard to talk to you when you're doing that."

"I can't help it. I don't have any patience left. I can't deal with you doubting yourself."

"How can I not doubt?" He spread his hands helplessly. "Hermione was right - look at what happened at the Ministry."

"Look." Ginny stopped in front of him with her hands on her hips. "Just let that be a lesson to stop and think about your information before rushing off. But don't let that stifle who you are. Don't hate that part of yourself."

"Maybe Hermione's right. Maybe I do have a saving people thing. And maybe that's the wrong way to be." He couldn't keep the lost sound out of his voice.

"Stop it! Just stop it!" she practically shouted. She looked him in the eye and said in a quieter voice. "Don't I know you? Don't I know what your heart is capable of? You came for me when no one else thought it possible."

She swung around and stared off into the woods. Then she took a deep breath and said in a firm voice, "You are never going to be completely safe and neither will I. I'd rather you be you, than be safe!"

Then Harry realized what he needed to do. He was going to have to face this part of himself - this part that lead him to danger and caused people pain. Ginny seemed to understand it better than he did.

He said to her back, "You know those lessons I've been having with Dumbledore?"

She turned in surprise and nodded jerkily.

"I have to do this thing called a Chrysalis charm. It's a way for me to leave Hogwarts quickly, but it's also a way to -" How could he explain this? "It's a way to understand . . . . It's hard to explain."

She was watching him expectantly.

"I want to do it now - to see - about this saving people thing. But I need you to watch over me."

"What do you mean?"

"Don't let a bird pick me up or anything-you'll see."

Before he could change his mind, he said the incantation. He felt the familiar grip on his chest and saw the smoky whirlwind.

He was a young boy again, up in a dead tree, terrified. Snarling dogs with sharp teeth jumped to bite him. He could feel their hot breath. The Dursleys were laughing. No one cared about him. There was only despair. The tree was the only solid thing holding him above the frenzy and it was dead . . .

The whirlwind changed. It was greenish in color. Sirius was being tortured. Voldemort was sending wave after wave of pain through his body. Harry felt that pain, just as he had felt it in the graveyard. He had to stop it - stop the agony before it ripped him to shreds.

He was Sirius ordered to stay put. But the boy . . . he looked like James. The boy was at the Ministry. Anxiety bubbled in his veins-his head felt light. He knew what they would do to him-the prison walls weren't high enough to stop him . . . He was Sirius going to rescue Harry.

The light changed to green - that strange fetid green that came from the moldy tunnel leading to the Chamber. She was here. A monster was hurting her. It would be horrible to look upon. That pretty, happy girl - she was in this ugly place. He saw her, saw her streaming hair; he turned her over. She was white, white as death. Don't be dead, he said - but it wasn't a girl anymore - it was a boy - who looked just like him. A boy who made terrible mistakes - yet this boy didn't deserve to die at the hands of Tom Riddle.

It was too much. He couldn't do it anymore. He pushed the magic away. The clutching pain in his chest eased. He opened his eyes, breathing hard.

Ginny and the beautiful sunny day were still there. He was lying on the ground next to the boulder. He put his hand on the rock and felt its rough, warm texture.

She sat next to him and put his head in her lap. She was pale, and her lip trembled. "What did you do? Did you go into that pod thing? Because you were here and then you disappeared."

He waited to catch his breath. "What color was it?"

"It was black-but then it changed slowly to green."

"Oh." He closed his eyes, giving in to the exhaustion.

He felt her hand gently brushing his forehead. "Are you ok?"

"Yeah." He sat up slowly and leaned against the rock. "You were right. That saving people thing. It is me." He paused, he didn't know if he should try to tell her the rest. What would she say? "It is me. And it is everybody else too."

She frowned, listening intently.

"I was rescuing and being rescued. It was like I was two people."

"What did you see?" she asked, looking a little afraid.

"I saw Sirius. I saw me. I saw you in the Chamber."

"You did?" She looked eleven again, with her hair all messed up and the lost look in her eyes.

"When I rescued you, I rescued me too."

"I don't understand."

"I don't either. But I know it's true." He reached out to her and pulled her into his embrace. He felt her tears on his shoulder.

"Did you know I heard you?" She was speaking into his shoulder so her voice was muffled.

"No."

"You said, 'Please don't be dead, Ginny.' And I thought, Harry doesn't want me to die." She was trembling as she spoke. "Tom wants me to die. But Harry doesn't. I won't die."

He tightened his hold on her, as she wept with her head on his shoulder. "I thought I deserved to die - for all the things I had done - Tom told me I did."

It was hard to see the clearing through his own tears. He had to wait for the thickness in his throat to abate before he could speak. "Did you feel that no one would come because you weren't worth anything? I felt that - just now. I felt I was the one lying there feeling like that."

"How could you have felt that? How could you have known that about me?" she asked, still crying a little.

"Because when I saved you, I saved myself."

"I still don't understand."

"I don't either."

They didn't speak again for a long time. Ginny couldn't stop crying, perhaps it was a delayed reaction from the attack, or maybe it was a long overdue reaction to what happened to her in the Chamber; Harry didn't know. He was feeling shaky and emotional himself.

He stroked her hair, which was tangled and rough. So he conjured a comb and started to work through all the knots. Ginny quieted at this and faced away from him just like she had done at Sirius's house.

As he worked, he thought about seeing her hair in the distance in the chamber. She could have died. He had never let himself think of that before. Now he understood why. It was too horrible to contemplate. He could have failed. Ginny could have been the first in the long line of mistakes he had made.

But you didn't fail, he thought. She was here--in front of him-warm and alive. And for that he was so profoundly grateful, he had to fight back tears. He looked up at the blue sky and the green of the pines. They were reassuringly alive too. It calmed him enough to continue to comb her hair. It took a long time - especially to extract the remaining clasp.

Then he started to braid the bright tresses. "I never got to practice."

"No - you never had a chance to shock Ron."

The wind rustled the trees. The pattern of the braid made its own motion. First the right went to the center, then the left - up and over - until it was done. He felt soothed by this silent act, by this contact with her. He clipped the clasp on the end of the plait.

"How did you do?" she asked feeling the braid with her hand.

"Rope looks a little sturdier this time."

"We should get back," Ginny said in a subdued voice. It was starting to get dark. Even though it wasn't very late, the sun set before supper this time of year.

"Are you ok?"

"I'm just tired." She did sound weary all of a sudden, so Harry didn't press her to talk. It would surely come up later.

It was getting too dark to see the path back to Hogwarts clearly, but they pressed on in silence, holding hands. Harry wasn't paying much attention to their surroundings, so he almost stumbled into the iridescent wall blocking the path. It was something huge, textured and gleaming - like a mountain of blue jewels. They stopped in their tracks. It was the Swedish Short-Snout, fast asleep.

"I think we've tickled enough dragons today," she murmured in his ear. They veered into the forest, trying to skirt around the dragon, without getting too far away from the castle. Ginny used her wand to light the way, and Harry used the Four-Point Spell to keep them on course. Eventually they came to a place where they could enter the Hogwarts grounds out of sight of the dragon.

"We're really late now," Harry said, looking at the distance lights of the castle.

"How much trouble are we going to be in?" Ginny wondered.

"A lot," a voice answered from the darkness. It sounded just like Snape.

Back to index


Chapter 7: Laundry

Thanks to my beta, Jo Wickaninnish, my sounding board, Julu, and my Brit picker, Nic83 who willingly discussed laundry with me. And thanks to you, dear reader, for sticking with me, even after the Hermione episode. Don't worry - Harry and I still love her.

Chapter Six: Laundry

"So how bad was it?" Ron asked the next morning at breakfast.

Harry winced just thinking about it. He wasn't sure which was worse: Snape making every kind of innuendo about what they had been doing out so late, or Professor McGonagall's lecture on responsibility and controlling emotions. "Snape was a git," he began.

Ron snorted in sympathy.

"And McGonagall, once she was sure I wasn't in the midst of some kind of break down, let me have it. How's - did you talk to Hermione?"

"Yes - we talked. But you're going to have to talk to her, Harry."

It was Sunday, and there were very few students down for breakfast this early in the morning. Ginny wasn't there either.

"I know. I don't know what I can say though, to make it better. I mean - I can't be like she wants me to be - you know - never taking risks or anything."

"Then you have to make her understand." Ron stirred his tea and then looked at him seriously. "Hermione can do anything and accept anything if she understands."

"You're right," Harry said in surprise, as the truth of that statement hit him. Ron certainly saw Hermione clearly. "I haven't had much of a chance to talk to her this year."

"I think she misses that," Ron said.

"Yeah." Harry realized that he missed those talks too. "So what's everyone saying about the attack?" He had not slept well; the flashes of hexes and terrified screams of his dreams kept waking him up.

"Oh the usual I-was-the-hero kind of stories." Ron rolled his eyes. "Or even worse - the ones who weren't afraid at all and knew right away that the attackers weren't harmful."

"They were harmful enough - anytime you're throwing curses around in a confined space it's going to be dangerous."

"True. And then there are the conspiracy theories." Ron frowned. "People noticed that they attacked right when Nott showed up."

"Yeah - and they didn't attack him. Dean got hit first."

Ron put his fork down. "I wonder if they thought Nott was on their side?"

"They thought wrong - didn't they?" Harry answered, pushing his plate away.

"Maybe. I mean - he could have made that decision right then. Or . . ." He frowned.

"Or what?"

"I don't know - I'll have to think about it some more."

Harry looked at his watch; it was almost nine o'clock. "I have to go - detention."

"What's your detention?"

"Laundry."

Ron grinned. "At least you'll have a better understanding of house-elves. Take an observation sheet."

"Ron, you know what you can do with that observation sheet."

*

Harry found the laundry after some difficulty. It was in the cellar, not far from the Hufflepuff common room. It was a pleasant enough room. There were windows near the ceiling to let in the light and a set of stairs leading up to open double doors. It looked as if that was the drying yard for the clotheslines.

There were twelve huge cauldrons lined up against the back wall. On the long shelf above them were boxes and bottles of all kinds. He looked at the labels-Tidy Whitey All Fabric Bleach. Bold and Beautiful-Bold on dirt, Beautiful on you. Dragon's Blood Concentrate-guaranteed to flame through all potion stains or your money back. Stuffed Shirt Starch. Puffskein Fabric Softener. There was a bottle of something called H-E.P. with a picture of a smiling house-elf on it.

The long table, a few spindly chairs, and a sagging settee were the only furniture in the room, since there wasn't much room for anything else next to the mountains of laundry. There were black heaps of school robes and white piles of underwear and rainbow clusters of socks.

Before he had a chance to become too disheartened, Professor McGonagall showed up with Ginny. "Potter, Weasley-this is your detention. You will stay until it is done. Wash, dried and folded. The elves will sort it and get it back to the students."

"Can we use magic?" Harry asked, and then realized what a stupid question that was.

"How else would you do laundry here, Potter?" She raised her eyebrows. "I hope one of you knows some household spells." She looked at Ginny expectantly. Ginny nodded, not looking happy.

"I'll send one of the elves to check on you and make sure you are doing this properly."

Ginny put her books and papers on the table. "I brought my homework, since I think this will take all day. I thought having nine in the family would have prepared me for huge amounts of laundry, but this -" She indicated the piles with her hand. "Is ridiculous."

"Are you ok?" Harry interrupted her. "After yesterday?"

"I'm fine," she said quickly, not meeting his eyes. "I think we'd better get busy."

Harry knew with that tone, that she didn't want to talk about anything. "So what do you want me to do?"

She smiled slightly. "I'm in charge?"

"Yes dear, you are in charge."

Her smile grew and she ran her hand down his arm. "When are you going to give me that sweatshirt?"

Harry looked down at the stretched and faded Quidditch sweatshirt he had owned since third year. On the front there was a small Gryffindor lion with the word "Seeker" underneath it. On the back "Potter" was spelled out in block letters. "I thought you were an insatiable jumper collector?"

"I am," she said, going over to kick at the pile of robes. "But sweatshirts are necessary for more casual occasions."

"Like doing laundry?"

"Exactly."

"So wallpapering is a more formal - er - event."

"Right." She grinned at him over her shoulder. "Laundry is every other day - wallpaper is every other decade."

"Ah. So, I'm not going to have any clothes left."

"That's too small for you, anyway."

"It's too big for you."

"Never underestimate the power of hot water."

He laughed. "That sounds ominous. I don't know if I'll entrust my favorite to your care."

"You will," she said confidently. "Now we have to start or it will really be ominous if we don't finish this today."

Harry soon found that while magic was useful in the laundry room, it still was an inexact science. They started on the robes first since Ginny thought they should hang outside to dry. "Less ironing," she said.

"I thought those robes from Madam Malkins were self-ironing?"

"Harry, you don't believe everything you read, do you?"

It was going well until they came to a robe soiled with potion stains.

"What is this stuff on here anyway?" It was mustard yellow and smelled like rotten eggs. They tried everything on the shelf.

"What do Muggles use?" Ginny asked in exasperation.

"Well there's soda water. Or a paste of baking soda, or lemon juice, or white vinegar. There's this stuff called Vanish. Think we could vanish the stain?

"No - the whole robe would go with it. I wish that H-E.P. bottle wasn't empty, that's what Mum always uses."

"Can't we just blast it off and say it melted in the water or something? Or blew off the line and Norbert toasted it with his flames?"

"All excellent ideas," Ginny said, rolling her eyes, "we're supposed to be getting out of trouble and not into more."

He shrugged. "Let's soak it in a bucket of Bold and Beautiful for a while - that might work."

"Good idea."

They dumped armful after armful of the robes into the cauldrons. Then they added soap and water.

"Hot or cold water?"

"Please, nothing gets clean in cold."

"What would happen if we shrunk everyone's robes?"

"Let's not even entertain that thought."

"To be on the safe side - we'll just build warm fires."

Once the water was warm, Ginny recited the agitation incantation.

"What about rinsing?"

"You have a soap removal incantation and then a spin incantation."

That didn't sound very efficient to Harry. "At least in Muggle world, you can put it all in and forget about it. How do you remember to do each thing?"

"The cauldrons will yell at us. But a multi-step incantation would be an improvement."

"We should get Hermione on it." Saying Hermione's name reminded Harry of the nightmare argument from the day before.

Suddenly all business, Ginny said, "Right - I'd best get to my homework."

She sat at the table and Harry sat on the settee. He wished she would sit next to him, but she was determinedly spreading out her papers and setting out her quill and inkbottle. Maybe she really did have a lot of homework to do, Harry thought.

The clothes sloshed gently in the cauldrons. The clean smell, the quiet, the cozy intimacy of being in a room together, all made Harry feel relaxed and content. For an old, ugly piece of furniture, this settee certainly is comfortable, he thought before drifting into sleep . . .

He was walking through Hogwarts, past the room of requirement, past the library. Then he was in a hurry, running and running and running. He saw the snake scratched on the pipe. He was falling down the dark tunnel. There were numbers - seven - seven - seven. He was still falling.

He awoke with a start. His heart was pounding, but his scar hurt even more. For the first time in months - he had pain in his head. And it must be because of Voldemort. The sleepless night, the stress must have made him more susceptible.

"Harry? Harry what's wrong?" Ginny rushed over. He was struggling to sit up, still clutching his head. His glasses had fallen off somewhere.

"It's Voldemort - I had another dream. This time it was about Hogwarts and the Chamber - I was falling. Then there were three sevens all in a row."

She sat next to him. "What can I do?"

"Nothing - just let me sit here." His head hurt so badly, he thought he was going to be sick.

"Try to breathe a little more." Ginny was stroking his shoulder.

He took his hands away from his scar and leaned back, trying to inhale slowly and steadily.

She smoothed his hair back. When her palm covered his scar he felt the strangest sensation. It was as if something had completely blocked the pain. When she brushed up to his hair, the pain came back.

"Ginny put your hand over my scar. No, not your fingers - your palm." The stabbing pain stopped. Harry covered her hand with his. "Ginny - your hand - it makes the pain go away."

She paled. "How can that be?"

"I don't know."

She took her left hand away and tried it with her right.

He shook his head. "It still hurts." Ginny was biting her lip. "What is it about your left hand?"

Ginny sighed. "I was afraid you were going to ask that. The first time Trelawney saw my fate line, she was convinced I was a natural born healer and that I would die to heal another at a young age."

Ginny laughed grimly. "I assured her that I was no more interested in sick people than I was in dragons. She didn't believe me of course. Diane looked it up for me - she has all the books. And it wasn't the right type of fate line for healing. Trelawney was wrong."

"Surprise, surprise." Now that the pain was gone, Harry could enjoy the fact that Ginny was sitting next to him. "Why did she think that you were going to die at a young age?"

"She thought that since my fate line only went half way up my hand that it showed a short life."

Even Harry knew that couldn't be right. "What does it mean then?"

"It means that -" Ginny hesitated again. "It means that from a young age, my choices would determine my fate."

He frowned. "Don't most people's lives work like that?"

"Apparently not. It seems your fate is in another's hands for quite a long time - until you decide to grow up and make your own choices. I suppose if you never really grow up - you can blame your life on someone else."

"Oh." He thought in silence for a moment. "Why your left hand and not your right?"

Ginny sighed and continued her story in a resigned voice, "Last year, when I caught the Snitch in the Ravenclaw game. I felt a pricking. One of it's wings scratched my hand - just enough to draw a little blood. No big deal, but it made a scar. The scar is attached to my fate line on my left hand, so now the line runs the whole length of my palm. Here." She handed him his glasses. "You'll see what I mean."

Through what was now a dull headache, he saw that the line of Ginny's left palm was an exact replica of the scar on his forehead.

*

"Spin. Spin. Spin," the cauldron started screaming. Ginny jumped up and began the correct incantations. The revolving of the heavy iron pots made so much noise that normal conversation was impossible.

Ginny shrugged, gave him a slight smile and went back to her homework. She looked as if she was happy for the reprieve. Not that he blamed her, it must have been strange for her to see that on her own hand and wonder what it meant. Knowing how much she didn't like to talk about herself, Harry wasn't surprised that she hadn't shown him that before.

He wasn't sure what to do next. As much as he enjoyed their easy camaraderie, he realized that there were depths that they hadn't even begun to plumb. Somehow he knew that she was afraid of those depths - yet he craved to know them. This was as much of a surprise as anything else. When Cho had cried all over him, he had hated it. When Ginny did, he was glad that she trusted him enough to do that. He just hoped that she wasn't regretting it now . . .

The cauldrons stopped with clanks and thuds. "Done. Done. Done," they chorused.

They used their wands to haul the dripping black bundles up the stairs and outdoors. Ginny knew a spell, which would shake and clip each garment to the line in one easy motion. Soon the robes were flapping in the breeze, the long line going as far as the eye could see, anchored in nothingness.

It felt good to see all of those black sails billowing and dancing in mid-air - yet there was order with the unruliness.

"White stuff next."

"Yuck - I'm not touching underwear."

"You don't have to."

They used their wands and soon the smell of bleach and soapy water filled the room. She went back to her homework.

Harry sat opposite of her at the long table. He wanted to her to talk to him - about the scar on her hand, or about Quidditch - anything. "Ginny?"

"I have to get this homework done - ok?"

"Well - what about that line on your hand? I mean -"

"Harry, I don't want to talk about it right now." She was resolutely reading her book.

"Why not?"

"Because I have things to do." She must have noticed the hurt look on his face. "Look - not everything has to do with you."

He drummed his fingers on the table, feeling his temper rise. It does too have to do with me, he thought.

"Spin. Spin. Spin," the cauldrons screeched. Ginny slammed her book shut and turned to say the next incantation. The deafening noise began again. She re-opened her book and went back to work without a glance.

Never had he felt so frustrated. Something was wrong and there was nothing he could do about it. He took a piece of parchment and folded it into a paper airplane. He wrote on one of the wings. We need to talk - now.

It landed on her book. Startled she looked at him and then at the plane. Her eyes narrowed as she read the message. She took a quill and scratched something. Then she flung it back.

She had scratched out the "w".

Harry looked at her bent head. He knew all kinds of ways to annoy. Living with Dudley taught him a thing or two. He took another sheet of parchment and tore it into tiny pieces. Once he had a pile of spitballs he began to throw them across the table.

At first she looked up and gave him the you-are-so-immature look all girls seemed to have mastered by the age of ten. Then she turned her whole body away from him so the little pellets wouldn't land on her face. Finally there were so many little bits of paper in her hair; she could ignore him no longer. With eyes blazing she whipped around with her wand out.

His was out just as quickly. He dared her with his eyes.

They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity, when she faltered. She put her wand on the table with a snap, turned away from him, and then began picking the bits of paper out of her hair.

Shame hit him in a wave. He remembered picking out bits of wallpaper from her hair and how good she had been to him that day. He remembered how she always believed in him - even yesterday when he was wracked with doubt - she had been willing to go along with him. She had never doubted him. And here he was, goading her because he wanted to talk and she didn't. Whatever it was - talking about it was painful for her, and he hadn't been very kind.

He scooted around the table and stood behind her and started to take out the little paper balls. She didn't realize he was there until her hand brushed his. She turned around in surprise. He continued to take them out; when he was finished he sank to his knees and put his head in her lap. He wondered if she'd ever forgive him.

"Done, Done, Done," the cauldrons screamed. The silence was as deafening as the noise had been.

He felt her hand on the back of his neck. He looked up and saw the regret on her face. Still kneeling beside her, he straightened and pulled her close. She hugged him back. Then he was kissing her and she was kissing him, and he wondered how two people could have an argument, make up and never say a word.

*

"Wrinkles!" the cauldrons reminded them sometime later.

"Oh, I'd better start the drying," Ginny said, giving his shoulder a pat.

Harry got up slowly. His knees hurt from the stone floor. He looked into the iron pots. The whites were foaming and tumbling like a sea storm. The whispering heat from the drying made the air heavy with humidity. It made him want to sleep again . . .

He suddenly remembered his dream. Maybe Hermione was right, he thought. In his worry about Ginny, he had completely forgotten about Voldemort.

"Would you mind if I went to talk to Dumbledore? Just for a few minutes. Maybe you could get some homework done?" He touched her arm, still not sure about her.

"Go right ahead." She sounded relieved. "I do need to get some work done."

It was a long walk from the laundry to Dumbldore's tower. The school was still Sunday morning quiet; the corridors were deserted. It didn't seem possible that only yesterday he had been waiting for Ginny to go on their date to Hogsmeade. Now she was holding back from him again, Hermione was upset - and Voldemort was haunting his dreams.

"Harry, aren't you supposed to be in detention?"

It was Hermione, doing some Prefect duties, judging by the badge she had pinned to her robe.

He answered stiffly. "Yes - but I'm on my way to see Dumbledore."

They were at the bottom of a moving stairway. Harry watched it move away to avoid looking at her.

"Harry."

Something in her tone drew his attention. She looked pale and a little nervous. "I, um - look - I'm sorry I flew off the handle like that. I was upset by the attack. It - it brought back a lot of memories. And I didn't want anything to happen to you or Ginny . . ."

"It's ok - I understand - at least I think I do - I talked to Ron this morning."

"You did?" She looked relieved.

"I want to tell you about some of the lessons I've been having with Dumbledore. I think - maybe - I can make you understand why I needed to go yesterday. And I want to talk to you about Sirius."

"You do?" Her eyes were bright.

"I do." Now, after being shut out by Ginny, Harry realized how it was possible to hurt someone by not talking. He could see it written on Hermione's face. He had left her out, albeit unintentionally. How could she possibly understand if he never told her?

"But I don't know how Ginny feels about what you said. We didn't have a chance to talk about it."

Hermione watched the moving staircase this time. "I don't even remember what I said exactly."

"I think it was the bit about mistakes which hurt her the most."

Hermione winced. "I shouldn't have said that."

"I think it brought back the Chamber and her mistakes there." He sighed.

"Oh, I didn't even think of that!" Her shook her head in regret. "I suppose I'm just as upset about my own mistakes--and Dumbledore's-and Sirius's. Ginny's mistakes don't seem so bad compared to them."

"Except what those mistakes did to her."

Hermione nodded. "She did take it all on herself, didn't she? But it's hard to remember that. She doesn't give much away."

"No she doesn't," Harry agreed with a pang. "I shouldn't be gone from the laundry too long. Walk with me to Dumbledore's office."

They caught a staircase and on the way Harry told her about the dream he had just had - but he didn't tell her about the scar on Ginny's hand.

Hermione was intrigued. "It doesn't sound like anything intentional on Voldemort's part. Maybe you just picked up some random thoughts. I wonder what all those sevens could be?"

"That's what I want to talk to Dumbledore about."

Harry didn't have a chance to talk to the Headmaster, however. The gargoyles informed him that he was out. Harry was relieved; he had been away long enough. Ginny didn't deserve to do all the work herself.

He parted from Hermione, glad that they had begun to talk. As he hurried down yet another moving stairway, he thought about how the staircases resembled relationships. The coming together and the moving away seemed so random and confusing- and yet, in the end, each one of them was trying to reach the same destination.

*

"I'm sorry it took me so long." He was panting from running back to the cellar.

"It's ok," Ginny said. "Dobby brought sandwiches." There was a plate of sandwiches, a jug of milk, and two glasses on a tray.

"No soup?"

Ginny smiled. "Dobby was so grateful for the extra help, he made these himself. He'll be back."

Harry sank into a chair and grabbed a sandwich, feeling unaccountably cheerful now that Ginny was smiling at him again. "How are you doing with your homework?"

"Almost done - just Divination."

"Make it up."

"I know the results of your study habits - and Ron's. No thanks."

"Just trying to help."

"Then you can fold. The whites are almost done drying."

"I hope you realize how difficult it is to be a man-servant," he groused, taking out his wand.

She giggled. "If I didn't dig for gold, I couldn't afford to keep you around."

"Worth my weight in jumpers and sweatshirts, am I?"

"We'll see how you do with those whites first."

"Yes, dear."

*

The whites were folded and the socks were churning in the cauldrons. Ginny had finished her homework at last. It had taken a while to pull all the robes off of the line and to fold them neatly. They were sitting on the settee when Dobby popped in with an audible crack.

This gave Harry and an idea. "Dobby - you can Apparate in and out of Hogwarts--right?"

"All house-elves Apparate. That's how Dobby gets his work done with no one seeing him."

"Can you Apparate with someone?"

Dobby wrinkled his forehead. "Someone would need more than Dobby, Sir, but it could be done."

Harry filed that away to talk over with Ron and Hermione. After the attack on Hogsmeade, he was starting to worry about an attack on Hogwarts.

"Harry Potter and his new Wheezy did laundry as perfect as any house-elf," Dobby said, looking with delight at the towers of neatly folded robes.

"This is Ginny, Dobby."

"Dobby knows," he said acknowledging her with a nod. "Dobby's old master gave her the diary. She is a strong witch to survive that dark magic."

Ginny blushed at Dobby's look of admiration.

"And she knows her household spells."

Harry wondered, with a grin, which was a higher order of magic in Dobby's book.

Then Dobby spotted the bucket with the stained robe in it. "Oh - potion stains."

"We couldn't get it out with anything and there's no H-E.P. left," Ginny explained.

"Dobby can help."

Harry was familiar as any student of potions with the magical properties of bodily fluids: things such as bile, blood, tears and urine. It was just a little shocking to see such a fresh source of that particular bodily fluid.

He looked over at Ginny who was hiding her giggles. He wondered what Hermione was going to say when she saw on the observation sheet what H-E.P stood for.

"Stain all gone," Dobby said triumphantly.

Back to index


Chapter 8: Talking the Talk

As always, thanks to Jo Wickaninnish and Julu.

Chapter Seven: Talking The Talk

Harry left the greenhouse, his head down against the chill wind of late afternoon. The warm weather from the weekend seemed a distant memory. Perfect conditions for a Monday, he thought grimly.

He was trying not to think about Ginny and why she didn't want to talk to him yesterday. While they had made up, he was no closer to understanding what was happening with her, and it was starting to worry him. Maybe he had done something wrong. Maybe she regretted going out with him because he brought back bad memories. Maybe . . .

He sped up, chastising himself for letting his imagination run away with him. He would just have to be patient . . .

"Hey - watch where you're going, mate!" Charlie Weasley was in the path in front of him. Harry hadn't even noticed him.

"Charlie. Back for your dragons?"

"Yes and no," he said, clapping Harry on the shoulder and leading him off the path.

He ushered Harry into one of the dragon handler's huts that had been erected around the grounds. It was a one-room wooden shack with a table in the middle and bunk beds against the walls.

Only after he started a fire and sat at the table across from Harry, did Charlie speak. "Mum was going to send this in the post, but I volunteered to deliver it."

He put a red envelope on the table in front of Harry. It immediately began to smoke and curl around the edges. Mrs. Weasley's voice filled the room.

HARRY-

YOU AND GINNY - BROKE CURFEW - DRAGONS ON THE GROUNDS - DEATH EATERS AT HOGSMEADE - WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?

YOU ARE SIXTEEN YEARS OLD - YOU HAVE A WATCH - USE IT. I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ABOUT ANY MORE RULE-BREAKING FROM EITHER OF YOU.

MOLLY

Harry sat in stunned disbelief, staring at the small pile of ashes that remained from the Howler. Until this moment he hadn't realized how he had come to expect Mrs. Weasley's continual good will. Of course she was angry with him, he had endangered her daughter. He wondered if she would ever forgive him.

Charlie had equal parts sympathy and amusement on his face. "I thought you'd rather get that one in private than the Great Hall."

Harry was profoundly grateful to Charlie for hand-delivering it. He couldn't imagine the mortification of getting that in front of the school. "Was - was your mum - I mean, how angry is she at me?" He was almost afraid to ask.

"Mum?" Charlie shrugged. "Oh, I don't know - it seems pretty typical for her."

"What should I do?"

"Do? You had a detention, right?"

Harry nodded.

"So you've had your punishment, you've had your Howler. I'd say it's over."

"But -" He groped for an answer. "What about your mum? How long do you reckon she'll stay angry?" He wondered if he would ever be invited back to the Burrow.

Charlie asked in astonishment, "You're really worried about this, aren't you?" He hunched forward on his elbows. "She'll get over it - Mum doesn't stay angry forever."

"I keep getting Ginny in to trouble," he said miserably. Maybe this is what Ginny was so upset about.

"Yes - I've been meaning to talk to you about that." Charlie leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest.

"What?"

"Mum looks at you like Hagrid looks at Norbert."

"What do you mean?"

"Hagrid thinks that Norbert is a sweet dragon who wouldn't hurt a fly." He shook his head. "I keep telling him to move Norbert away from the lake because Ridgebacks go for marine animals, unlike other dragons. The giant squid keeps taunting him, and one day Norbert is going to break loose and go into the lake. Hagrid doesn't see that Norbert still has the nature of a dragon."

"What does that have to do with me?"

"Mum still thinks of you as Ronnie's ickle friend - she trusts you to be a good boy. I don't think she trusts Ginny as much as she trusts you."

"And now I've messed that up."

"I'm sure your story will clear her mind."

"Charlie -" Harry was starting to get irritated at the direction this conversation was going. "It's not a story. We didn't do anything - like that."

"I know the nature of a sixteen year old boy - I was one once." "We just came from an attack," he said, never taking his eyes away from Charlie. "Ginny was upset. We talked. It was dark before we knew it. We would have made it on time if it hadn't been for your bloody dragons."

"Ok - sorry." Charlie shifted uncomfortably. "I believe you - but you can't tell me that you and Ginny have done nothing but hold hands."

Harry looked at the ceiling and wondered if he could bear the fact that Ginny had six older brothers. "I don't have to answer that."

"Come to think of it, I'm glad you won't." He smiled. "I reckon I don't really want to know." He shrugged. "Look - I like you Harry - I can't think of anyone I'd rather see date Ginny. But you are both headstrong and impulsive. Somebody has to be the cautious one."

Then it all clicked in his mind. "You're too afraid to bring this up with Ginny - aren't you?" He started to smile a little. "So you're picking on me."

Charlie grinned back. "Didn't you know the female of most species is the most dangerous?"

"I'm starting to find that out," he said looking at the pile of ashes.

Charlie stood up. "I wish I had more time, I wanted to talk some more about . . . things. I reckon those Dursleys never sat you down and discussed, you know, girl and boy type things."

He looked at him in alarm. Of all the things he didn't want to hear from Charlie, or from the Dursleys, for that matter, it was "The Talk."

Charlie must have noticed his look of horror because he said, "Relax - I have to get going and so do you. But I'll be back," he finished ominously.

Harry made a mental note to never be alone with Charlie again.

*

"What's with you?"Ron asked as Harry entered their dormitory.

Harry stared at him for a minute. "Your mum sent me a Howler and I think your crazy brother was going to give me The Talk."

"The Talk?" Seamus and Dean were watching Harry with interest.

"Yeah - you know the one about the birds and the bees."

Ron laughed. "Knowing Charlie, birds and bees don't have a starring role in that talk."

"Has he ever given you The Talk?"

"Me, no - but I remember when we were all in Egypt and Fred and George were constantly teasing Percy about having a girlfriend. Charlie took it upon himself to give him The Talk."

"So what did he say?" Seamus asked moving over to Ron's bed.

"I wasn't there. This was Fred and George's version."

"Even better," Dean said with a laugh.

"It was something about Quidditch."

"Quidditch!"

"Yeah, like if you're a bloke you're the Seeker. And the Seeker wants to catch the Snitch." He looked around and turned red. "That would be - you know."

They all nodded.

Ron continued. "You may think you've won by catching the Snitch. But if your Keeper hasn't done a good job - and too many Quaffles have gotten through - well you've lost the match."

Seamus was laughing and Dean was shaking his head. "I'll never look at Quidditch the same way again."

Harry wondered if he ever wanted to play Seeker again. "So, uh Fred and George had a good time with this then?"

Ron grinned. "Poor Percy. I think he was happy to be shut up in a pyramid - just for some peace and quiet."

"Well, Harry lets hope your Keeper can er. . perform," Seamus chortled.

"Come off it, Seamus. I suppose you had The Talk."

"Me Mam tried. It was right embarrassing. I'd rather hear it from a brother." He shook his head. "I interrupted her and said, 'Mam, I don't even have a girlfriend.' That stopped her cold. Then she started wondering what was wrong with all the girls at Hogwarts."

"They're not mental for one," Ron pointed out.

"They all have excellent eyesight," Harry added.

"Been to too many Quidditch matches, I reckon," Dean said before Seamus clocked him with Ron's pillow.

"What's going on?" Neville asked, observing the rather boisterous and feathery pillow fight.

"Ron's been giving us The Talk."

"I have not!"

"What about you, Neville - ever get The Talk?"

Neville's eyes opened wide. "From Gran? No." He shuddered. "Rather not think about it."

Seamus laughed. "Some things are best learnt in the gutter."

"You are so immature."

"At least I'm not thinking impure thoughts when I'm watching Quidditch."

"That's the only time."

"Time for supper," Dean said. " I reckon none of you lot will need to worry about any of this for a long time."

"Oh and you do?"

"I have a girlfriend. She doesn't go to Hogwarts."

"The mythical girlfriend who goes to another school! Good one Dean."

The three of them left, squabbling good-naturedly, leaving Harry and Ron alone. Harry asked a little desperately, "Why does everyone think the worst about me and Ginny?"

Ron grinned. "It couldn't be the way you two look at each other, could it?"

*

Harry was surprised to see Ginny waiting for him outside of their dormitory. "I'll go ahead," Ron said.

"Did you get a Howler from Mum?" Ginny asked anxiously, taking hold of his arm.

"Yeah. But Charlie delivered it, so all of Gryffindor didn't hear."

"I can't believe she did that! I don't blame her for sending me one - but you must have felt just awful." Ginny was searching his face, looking very worried.

Harry couldn't help but feel gratified that Ginny was so concerned about him. He had started to think that maybe she didn't care that much about him anymore since she had refused to discuss her feelings. Now he saw how petty he had been. Ginny was right about his thinking that everything had to do with him. He had only been thinking about how he felt left out - not how awful Ginny must have been feeling in the first place.

He looked around; the common room was empty since everyone had gone down to supper. "I did feel bad at first." He put his arms around her. "But Charlie made me feel better about it." Then he said all at once, "I'm sorry I haven't been very understanding towards you."

"I'm not doing this to hurt you, Harry. You know that." She pulled away and looked at him imploringly. "I'm still a little confused." Tears were standing in her eyes. "And if I can't explain it to myself - how can I explain it to you?"

"It's ok." And for the first time, it really was. He hadn't realized how worried he was that she was slipping away from him.

"Really?" She peeped up at him.

"Really."

"Oh," she sighed and then she gave him a dazzling smile. "I was worried you were going to give up on me."

"Same here."

"I wouldn't do that," she said, hugging him.

"I know that now." He stroked her hair away from her face. She put her hand on the back of his head and pulled him into a kiss, which lasted quite a long time.

"We're going to be late for supper."

"I know," he said kissing her again.

"Do you really want to do more laundry?"

"I don't mind the laundry - but the Howler." He straightened up and decided that of all the talks he had heard thus far, a Molly Weasley Howler was the most effective talk of all.

*

"Potter." Professor McGonagall was at the portrait hole. "The Headmaster wants to see you in his office directly after supper. It seems you attempted to see him yesterday?"

"Oh - yeah." That dream, he thought with chagrin. He had forgotten about it again.

"Best get to supper quickly - Potter." Her eyes narrowed at Ginny. "Miss Weasley."

They started down the corridor. Ginny managed to keep from giggling until they turned a corner. "That was a close call."

Harry shook his head. Professor McGonagall had the eerily similar look of someone who wanted to give him The Talk. It would really be the last straw if Dumbledore had the same idea.

*

"Harry, I regret I wasn't in when you called on me yesterday," Dumbledore said indicating a seat. "I was involved in some unexpected business for the Order. And of course that attack on our students has taken up a lot of my time."

Dumbledore looked even more tired than usual. Whatever the 'business' for the Order was, it seemed to be something serious. He felt a little foolish for wasting his time with his dreams.

"I - er - had another dream. I fell asleep during detention." He looked up sheepishly, glad that Phineas wasn't in his portrait.

Dumbledore nodded. " Yes - the soporific effects of watching laundry dry are well known."

Harry smiled slightly. He was getting used to the Headmaster's sense of humor. "Anyway - I dreamed I was running through Hogwarts and then I saw the snake on the pipe that opens the Chamber. Then I was falling, and the numbers seven, seven, seven came to mind." He shrugged. "That's it. Oh, yeah - my scar really hurt - so it must have been from Voldemort."

Dumbledore steepled his fingers and frowned in thought. "It doesn't seem to be a deliberate planting of ideas by Voldemort. It seems too random. It appears to be a real dream you looked in on. The numbers. Were they all in a row or separate?"

Harry tried hard to remember. "I'd say all in a row - like a room number or something."

"Do you mind if I share this with some other members of the Order? It may make some sense in light of information they have."

"I don't mind." He hesitated. "I - I have another question - about the Chrysalis Charm."

He raised his eyebrows. "By all means - ask away."

"Saturday, after the attack - we were worried about this little boy we had seen in the park."

"Yes, Tonks told me."

"Well - we had some disagreements - about taking risks - and you know, saving people."

He nodded.

"So I did the charm to find out why I do that - you know - just go after people without thinking."

"And what did you find?" Dumbledore prompted.

Harry was finding this difficult to talk about - it sounded so - fantastic. "That I was two people - I was the person who needed rescuing and the one who rescued."

Dumbledore sat back and smiled. "I see you've realized what's written in every heart."

"What do you mean?"

"Harry - this is one of the things that makes us human - one of the things that separates us from the animal world. It is being able to identify with another -to have the compassion and pity to see what they see, to feel what they feel." His eyes were a warm blue. "When you open your heart that much - then you, in a way, are the other. Then it becomes just as perilous to yourself to leave that person as it is to risk yourself."

Harry's gazed at the beautiful red and gold feathers of Fawkes. That was how he felt when he went after Ginny - that if he didn't do something for her - he couldn't bear it. It was the same way with Sirius - and in the lake during the second task. "But - does everyone have this feeling? I've never heard anyone talk about it."

"Buried deep inside of each person - yes - I think there is this well of compassion." He shook his head. "For some - the opportunity to draw upon it in such a dramatic fashion never arises. For others - they have covered and polluted this well with so many other things - that it dries up - and is not easily accessible. Of course, that is my understanding of human nature - I'm sure you can find more sophisticated accounts in the Department of Mysteries."

Harry thought Dumbledore's explanation was sophisticated enough for him. It certainly gave him enough to think about. "So - do you think it is ok to take risks then?"

"I think - given the situations we have been discussing - that risk-taking is a given - maybe even an imperative."

Harry made a mental note to look up some words in the dictionary, since he could tell his time with Dumbledore was winding down. The portraits were starting to become restless and Phineas had just returned to his - although he remained standing. There was still one question that was bothering him. "But what about staying safe - and not worrying people?"

"Safety." Dumbledore sounded weary. "Is a rare commodity. This school is supposed to be safe from attack, yet I am more and more concerned about such an event happening."

"What about the elves - they can Apparate into Hogwarts - can't they?"

"As can the goblins," Dumbledore added dryly. "All we can hope is that we have garnered enough of their good will and loyalty, so that they are not tempted to use their considerable powers for Voldemort." He stood up. "I regret I cannot spend any more time with you this evening, Harry. We will, of course, have our regular lesson tomorrow."

"Right," Harry said as he turned to leave, but Dumbledore's voice stopped him.

"Oh yes - it is beneficial to remember that we have very little control over other people's thoughts. The only way to stop someone else from worrying is to give them reassurance and to help them understand."

Harry nodded, thinking that Ron had said the very same thing just yesterday.

*

Returning to the dormitory, he was surprised to see Ron waiting for him with a letter. "Another letter from the Weasley family," he said, handing Harry a large envelope. He recognized the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes logo immediately.

The letter read:

Dear Harry,

We couldn't help but notice (actually all of Ottery St. Catchpole noticed as well) that Mum penned you a Howler today. We feel our attempts at The Talk failed. (So we are sending a more practical solution to your - er - problem.)

We urged you to master your - er - urges. (Fred, you used urge twice in one sentence.)

Shut it George. Anyway - if you can't master them then you should -(Harry doesn't like that word, Fred) Fine. Here's something to help you along. (We put this in a plain brown envelope for a reason.)

Harry looked in the envelope. It was a home improvement catalogue. He went back to the letter.

Pages four and five are the centerfold. (Shh - don't let McGonagall see it)

Cheers,

Fred (and George)

Harry went to pages four and five. They were of bristle brushes for wallpapering.

Ron, who had been reading the letter over his shoulder, collapsed onto his bed, laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"What's so funny? I dunno - the look on your face." He laughed again as a new thought struck him. "Or what centerfold they should send Ginny - not that they would."

"What?" Harry asked, knowing he shouldn't ask.

"Rulers."

For the second time that day, feathers were flying in the Gryffindor tower.

:

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Chapter 9: Friends And An Enemy

A/N Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish, Julu, Nic 83, and the folks on the Pensieve who commented on the Apparition scene. And thanks to everyone reading and reviewing! I'm bound and determinded to finish this by the end of August. You all are keeping me focused.

Chapter Eight: Friends And An Enemy

Hermione was surrounded by papers when Harry spotted her in the common room. "Why aren't you at practice?" she asked. "Ron had to go."

"Katie's just having practice for the Keeper and Chasers this afternoon," he answered, sitting across from her. "They're trying to teach Jeanne to fly at different altitudes and still throw the Quaffle."

"Oh." Hermione seemed to ponder this statement, but Harry didn't think she was considering Quidditch tactics. She distractedly rearranged the house-elf observations sheet she had spread before her. "Did you know that Happy belongs to the Goyle family?"

"No." Harry was surprised.

"I've been doing the family trees of the elves. You know, just to kind of figure out where they all came from." Hermione looked a little sheepish at this admission. "It's not necessary for the project, of course . . ."

"Did he choose to stay at Hogwarts?"

"He wasn't asked back to the Goyles as far as I can tell." She frowned. "I wonder why they didn't want him - now that they've gone to Voldemort's side."

"Maybe they don't need an elf who can cook for a thousand."

Hermione shrugged. "Maybe." She glanced at him. "Do you have all of your homework done?"

He grinned. "Maybe."

She smiled back at him. "Lets take a walk to the kitchens and see if we can find out more about Happy."

"They won't like it if we intrude before supper - but let's take a walk anyway. We can go outside if they don't want to see us," he said, thinking he might get a glimpse of Ginny practicing.

The corridors were busy in a less purposeful way this time of day. Classes were over, and the extra-curricular activities were in full swing. They passed a classroom where a boisterous Gobstone tournament was taking place. Peeking into the Great Hall, they could see a group of first years playing wizard games and running around like Muggle children in a schoolyard.

One look in the kitchen told them that they would not be welcome. Happy was barking out orders; Winky was crying; and elves scurried around her. "Let's not."

"Outside then - it stopped raining."

"You know, I thought the dragons would be trying to toast at least one student a day, but they're pretty smart," Harry remarked as they passed the Welch Green who watched them with a baleful eye.

"Oh yes," Hermione said vaguely. Then she stopped walking and took a deep breath, as if bracing herself for something. "Harry, you promised me we'd talk about Sirius."

The peaceful school scene dissolved. It startled him that he could return to sorrow and helplessness so quickly. With a massive effort, he pushed those feelings away. "Oh, yeah." He looked up at the castle. If he counted the windows he could see just where they had pulled Sirius onto Buckbeak's back . . .

"What do you - I mean - how are you - coping?" Hermione prompted.

He gave a short laugh. "I don't know if I'm coping. It's hard to describe. At first I thought about him all the time. Then less and less. Now that we're back at school . . ."

"I know." She nodded. "Does that make you feel - guilty?"

"Yeah - sometimes - like maybe I'm going to forget him. But then you know what? Sometimes it will hit me all over again, and it is just as fresh as the day it happened. And that's not good either."

Hermione followed his gaze to the windows. "You know what I think sometimes? And don't hate me for this. But sometimes I think - what if we hadn't rescued him?"

"What do you mean?"

"I can't get this out of my head." She stared up at the clouds scuttling overhead. "I haven't told anyone this - not even Ron."

"What?" He was starting to worry.

"If we hadn't rescued him," she began in a steely voice. "We wouldn't have lived in his house, and we wouldn't have known him." She faced him as if she was staring down a terrible monster. "Then it wouldn't have hurt so much when he died."

Harry thought of the implications. If Sirius had been kissed by a Dementor . . . He thought of the first letter he had ever received from Sirius. Ron's owl . . . His face in the fire telling him that the eyes are the weakest part of a dragon . . . Sirius singing Christmas carols . . . The tone of voice he used when he talked about James and his school days . . . For the first time, these memories were not painful-they were . . . comforting. He wouldn't have known any of them if they hadn't rescued Sirius.

"Harry? Are you angry I said that? - I shouldn't have said that - I really didn't mean it." Hermione was growing more agitated at his silence.

"No!" Then he tried to sound more reassuring. "I'm not angry. It's just that I don't agree."

"What do you mean?" Hermione focused on his face.

He could tell how hungry she was - to talk - to understand. "Ginny and I talked about this when we were stuck at number twelve." He tried to think back to what she had said. "She was telling about how the Weasleys talked about him and what Bill said."

"I know," Hermione murmured. "Ron told me."

"And I said I didn't think there was much point in rescuing Sirius if his life was going to be so miserable." Hermione nodded. "But Ginny seemed to think that we couldn't make that judgment since we weren't with him all of the time."

"I suppose."

"But now that more time has passed - " Harry frowned and turned away from the windows. "I can remember good things about Sirius." He cocked his head and regarded her intently. "And I don't think I want to give those memories up."

"How can you? Why can't I?" she asked, bewildered.

"I don't know." He was on shaky ground and wasn't quite sure if what he was going to say was right. "Maybe - you're not past the pain enough to remember the good times."

"Why aren't I past the pain? Are you?"

"I dunno if I am or not - it's just that the pain is . . .livable." He didn't know if that made any sense.

"How did you do that?"

"Well - I really tried to remember what Ginny said about guilt - about how it's kind of self-centered if all you remember about a mistake is how it affected you."

Hermione was struck by this. "You mean, maybe I should stop dwelling on the mistakes and how guilty I feel because it's self-indulgent?"

"Um . . . I suppose. I mean - I know now that the impulse to rescue Sirius was right."

"How could you know that?" Hermione crossed her arms.

He knew it was time to tell her about the Chrysalis Charm. "Let's sit in the stands. This may take a while."

From this vantage point, they could see the Gryffindor practice session. Ginny's red hair, flowing in the wind, was plainly visible. He watched her for a moment, his heart seeming to lift up all the way to be with her.

He stole a glance at Hermione whose attention was centered on Ron, at the far end of the Pitch. "Dumbledore is teaching me the Chrysalis Charm."

He had her attention now. "The Chrysalis Charm? That's even more obscure than Occulemency. Why would he?" Then she frowned. "Unless . . ."

Harry was uneasy. Usually when Hermione speculated like this, it didn't bode well for him. "Well, he said it would be a good way to leave Hogwarts on Hedwig."

"Yes - I suppose," she said doubtfully. "But there are other ways - "

"And - " he cut in before she could list all the ways. "He thought it would be a good way to learn about myself - he thought it might help me in my fight with Voldemort."

Something dawned in Hermione's eyes. "Oh!" She stared at him for a minute. "You know," she breathed, " that might just work."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't want to say anything just yet. Let me look up a few things first."

Of course Hermione wants to look it up, he thought with some amusement.

"What's the incantation?"

Amor Fati, he answered promptly, only to be surprised by Hermione's reaction.

"Love of fate," she whispered. "Oh." All the breath seemed to leave her body in that one word. Her eyes filled with tears. "Oh, Harry." She stopped for a moment. "Do you remember our first year - when you were going after the stone - and you had to go on alone?"

He nodded.

"I said you were a great wizard."

Harry blushed. He had forgotten that.

"You are - you're braver than anyone I know," she said earnestly. "I've just been thinking about mistakes - trying to hang on to something that never was there."

Harry had absolutely no idea what she was talking about.

"I just wanted to keep everyone safe - but that's not what life is about is it?" She squared her shoulders. "I have to be like that - like you and Ginny."

He looked at her in surprise - he didn't see what Ginny had to do with it.

"I talked to her, you know - about that argument we had in Hogsmeade," she continued.

"Yeah, she told me."

"What did she say?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Not much," he said. "Just that you two understood each other and would always be friends - even when you had disagreements."

"Those Weasleys," Hermione said, gazing out at the Pitch again, "they're good listeners aren't they? In fact they listen so well, you forget to find out what they're really thinking."

At Hermione's wistful tone, Harry realized that he had never felt so close to her. All those feelings of guilt and grief - she was enduring them too. And then there was the puzzle of understanding someone else. Hermione seemed just as uncertain as he was at times.

She faced him. "I think I've made it all too complicated. You can do it, Harry," she said with fire in her eyes. "I was wrong to doubt that."

"No, you weren't wrong to doubt me. I wasn't the most reasonable person last year. Only you and Ron kept me from going mad, I think."

"I'm not talking about rescuing Sirius - I'm talking about how to defeat Voldemort."

While he was glad Hermione was so optimistic, he really couldn't see . . .

"You know, Harry," Hermione said thoughtfully, as she again turned her attention to the far end of the Quidditch Pitch, "sometimes it's better to believe in a person than worry about them."

Harry wasn't sure about whom she was talking - but as he looked out at Ginny soaring through the air, he remembered her saying, I'm not going to go home and worry about you, I believe in you.

Dumbledore had said the only way to make a person stop worrying is to help them understand . . . Ginny had always understood, and now Hermione seemed to as well. He just wished they let him in on the secret.

*

He didn't have a chance to ask her since the Slytherin team turned up at that moment. He looked at his watch. They were early. Probably trying to see what our Chasers can do, he thought grimly.

"Do you know any of them?" he muttered to Hermione.

"No, none of them are in our year - except for Pansy Parkinson. And I don't think she plays."

"Why would she when she can sit on the sidelines and ridicule everyone?"

Practice was breaking up. Ron noticed them sitting in the stands and motioned to Ginny. They were both smiling as they flew to join them.

"Good practice?" Hermione asked Ron.

"Yeah," he sounded out of breath from exertion and happy all at once. "I think our Chasers are going to be quite the surprise for Slytherin next week."

Ginny nodded. "It's Jeanne. She has such a different style - it will throw their Keeper."

"It threw me at first," Ron admitted, getting off his broom and plopping down next to Hermione. "She flies straight at you and makes eye contact. The thing is, she doesn't fly fast - so you end up staring at her, waiting for her to come into the scoring area - meanwhile Katie and Ginny are getting the Quaffle through the other hoop - and you don't even notice because Jeanne is still coming at you." He grinned. "It's brilliant in a mad kind of way."

"But it probably won't work past this Slytherin match - because the other teams will see her style and compensate," Hermione pointed out.

Ron opened his eyes wide. "Yeah, that's the way it is with new players, you only have one shot to use the element of surprise."

"But what about the Bludgers?" she asked. "Won't they be able to hit her more easily if she's not moving too fast?"

Harry glanced at Ginny. This was truly novel-listening to Ron and Hermione talk about Quidditch tactics. Ginny raised her eyebrows back at him.

Meanwhile Ron was trying to explain evasive maneuvers and Bludgers. "But it said in the book . . . " Hermione began in a puzzled voice.

"Oh, so you did buy that book for your dad?" Ron asked.

"Yes-but I read it first," Hermione said and then added defensively at their looks of surprise, "Don't you lot ever read a book before you give it to someone - you know - just to make sure it's all right?

"No," Harry said flatly.

Ginny hid a smile.

"Well, it's good you did. Now you can enjoy the matches more," Ron said.

"I suppose." Hermione frowned. "Except now I realize I can't really understand what playing Quidditch is like just from a book."

Harry glanced at Ginny again.

Ron's face lit with enthusiasm. "Why don't I show you?" He hopped on his broom. "Come with me. I'll show you the way you're supposed to avoid Bludgers."

"But it's Slytherin's turn for the pitch."

"They're here early. Come on. Five minutes."

She shrugged and smiled.

"Well." Harry turned to Ginny who was watching Ron and Hermione flying in a slow circle, dipping from high to low and side-to-side.

She shook her head and giggled. "When Ron starts reading about house-elves, we'll know."

He laughed too. "Um, Ginny? I don't know if I really understand Quidditch. Do you - you know - think you could take me out on your broom?"

"Hmm." She looked him up and down. "I was going to put my broom away." Her eyes twinkled. "Maybe we should find a broom cupboard instead."

"A broom cupbord sounds like just the thing," he said, taking her hand and moving closer to kiss her.

"So Potter - found another Gryffindor tramp to snog with?" Pansy Parkinson sneered.

Still holding Ginny's hand, he turned to Pansy. "Watch your mouth, Parkinson."

She turned her attention to Ginny. "I'd watch your boyfriend - he's been two-timing you with Granger - or don't you mind sharing? You lot are friendly like that?"

Ginny jumped up. "You have a foul little cow mind, Parkinson. Why don't we leave you to watch your new team - or aren't you their groupie yet?"

Pansy's face turned red. "You'll pay for that Weasley!"

"What are you going to do?" she asked over her shoulder as they left the stands. "Write a song about me?"

He glanced at Ginny's flushed face as they walked back to the castle. "Sorry about that - I reckon anyone who goes out with me is stuck with some enemies." He was again grateful that Draco Malfoy wasn't around to harass her.

"Oh, she was my enemy long before we started going out," Ginny snapped. "You're doing that again - thinking everything revolves around you." She quickened her pace.

Harry stalked along beside her. "Sorry - again. Or can't I say that?"

"You can say anything you want." She continued to stomp her way her way past the Welsh Green.

He watched her go for a minute. "Ginny." He sped up to stand in front of her. "Stop, please?"

She gave him a stony glance until she noticed her broom over his shoulder. "You remembered my broom." Then she added with chagrin, "Thanks. I would have forgotten it."

"I think you forgot it's Pansy Parkinson you're supposed to be angry with - not me."

She hung her head. "You're right. I was taking it out on you. I'm sorry. She really gets to me. I can't forgive her for that song last year."

"I know that feeling - I'm the one who got myself thrown off the team because of Malfoy."

"I'd better pull myself together, hadn't I?" She sighed and looked off toward the lake. They were almost to the castle, so they were high enough to see the lake shining in the distance. Norbert was a black blob pointing at the water. "The giant squid must be taunting him again." Ginny remarked.

"That's a good comparison - Pansy Parkinson and the giant squid."

Ginny giggled. "But the giant squid is better looking."

He reached out with one hand, and smoothed her hair away from her face and ran her ponytail through his hand. "So are you."

"High praise," she scoffed.

"I told you I was rubbish at compliments," he replied, never taking his eyes off of her face.

She gazed uncertainly at him for a moment, and then she shook her head. "Your timing is rubbish too. I just finish yelling at you unfairly, I'm a mess from Quidditch practice and you decide it's time for a compliment."

It was his turn to look at her uncertainly.

"You really are sweet sometimes," she said, swiftly kissing him.

He caught her with his free arm and spent a bit more time kissing her the second time. She relaxed against him. "Aren't you going to put that broom down?"

"No." He sighed. He couldn't see his watch, but he could tell by the light that it was getting late. "I have to eat supper early and then I'm having my first Apparition lesson."

"Oh. Then sit with us. I don't think Ron and Hermione will miss you."

"Ok." He smiled. "I need to get caught up with Days of Destiny."

*

The girls weren't talking about wizard soap operas however.

"Did you hear?" Rose asked when they sat down. "There's a new safety precaution concerning Hogsmeade visits. Sixth and Seventh years go on one Saturday, Fifth and Fourth years on another. That way there aren't so many students to look after. Third years can't go at all."

"Oh no!" Ginny cried. Harry's heart sank. No more dates with Ginny - no more spins on the roundabout.

"Yeah." Diane looked at them sympathetically. "That's too bad."

They all fell silent. It did seem silly to agonize over dating and trips to Hogsmeade. There was a war on - all of them knew that. But still . . . it wasn't fair.

"So," Jeanne said in a bright voice. "I listened to Days of Destiny today. Seems that Bedouin Princess who befriended Roderick is a metamorphmagnus who is really - can you guess?"

"Olga," Rose said promptly.

"How did you know?" Jeanne asked, disappointed.

Rose shook her head and indicated for her to continue.

"Anyway, seems Olga is from the Lost Metamorphmagnus Tribe of Amazons and knows the ways of the desert. She's never forgotten Roderick, but she knows she messed up with him the first time. So she changes her appearance to seduce him again."

"Um," Harry couldn't contain himself any longer. "Isn't the Amazon in South America?"

"It's a lost tribe, Harry," Rose pointed out, lips twitching.

"Er, right," he said, trying not to give in to the urge to laugh.

"Meanwhile, Fiona is coming to know Lord Lyle."

"Oh no," Ginny groaned. "She's not going to fall in love with the villain is she? I hate those story lines."

"Well, she's starting to understand his pain, which has made him act out in terrible ways."

"Get over the pain! What woman in her right mind would be attracted to bad behavior? I don't think I'll be listening," Ginny declared.

"Then you're not a true believer," Rose pointed out.

"She'll cave," Diane predicted. "You can't stay away from that show for long."

*

Ginny walked him to Professor McGonagall's office where he was to pick up a portkey to a safe location for his Apparition lessons. "Don't splinch yourself ok? I kind of like the way you're . . . arranged."

He smiled back. "I won't - I hope." He was a little worried; that part sounded painful.

McGonagall flung open her door. "Potter, we're waiting." She looked at Ginny. "Run along Miss Weasley." She pointed to the chocolate frog wrapper on her desk. "There's your portkey - Professor Lupin is waiting for you at the secure location."

She glanced at him sharply. "And try to reign in that curiosity of yours. You don't need to know where you are or where you are going. It's important that you don't know any of the locations of the Order. You understand why?"

He nodded. The last thing they needed was Voldemort to probe his mind and actually find something worth knowing.

"You'll have a portkey back - but only to the gates." McGonagall acknowledged his look of surprise with a nod. " The Headmaster has arranged it so that portkeys only work when exiting the school."

She must have noticed the apprehension on his face, since she added in a softer tone, "You won't have any trouble learning to Apparate, Potter - the dissolving you do in the Chrysalis charm is very similar."

He nodded and touched the wrapper, feeling the familiar pull at his middle. His landing was as hard as the floor.

"Harry, learn to Apparate and you won't have such rough entrances." Professor Lupin smiled at him and gave him a hand up. Harry tried not to look around. The building was vast and shadowy, like an empty warehouse.

Lupin looked at the wrapper in his hand. "Because you don't know where you are or where you're going, I've decided to teach to you to Apparate by following a trail of Chocolate Frogs."

All Harry could think of was the story of Hansel and Gretel and their breadcrumbs. "Is that the normal way?"

"No - you're supposed to Apparate in a familiar area where you concentrate on the place you wish to appear," Lupin explained. "We're just going to substitute sweets for places." He raised one eyebrow. "You are familiar with Chocolate Frogs?"

Harry nodded, thinking of the large stack of cards he had accumulated over the years.

"Your first chocolate frog is not far away. There's an x on the wrapper. Just concentrate on standing next to it. And then think of your entire body as dissolved-but powerful. All that energy keeping you together is going into motion and moving you through space."

Harry waited for more.

"That's it."

He inwardly groaned. Sometimes the simple instructions were the hardest to follow. Tell me what you see in the tealeaves. Think of a happy memory. Swish and flick.

Pushing those thoughts away, he split his mind between the frog and his body's energy. He saw a flash of gold light, heard a crack, and the next thing he knew he was on his knees staring at a chocolate frog and two female feet in lime green trainers.

"Good one, Harry. You weren't very loud were you? I'm not surprised. You're usually quiet." Tonks watched him get slowly to his feet. "Anything missing? Buttocks? All limbs attached in the right order?"

"I think so." Then he felt a rush of excitement. He had done it. "That was really weird-but kind of fun."

Tonks smiled at his enthusiasm. "Oh it's the only way to travel. Now that you have the basics, you'll work on distance. Remus and I will keep spreading out until you can Apparate the length of a Quidditch Pitch."

"I didn't go very far then, did I?" he asked, disappointed.

"No one ever does to begin with," she assured him. "Now turn around and go back to Remus. Your next wrapper has a circle on it."

Harry bobbed between the two of them for the next half hour. He was surprised at how no-nonsense Tonks was. She didn't indulge in any unnecessary chatter and kept him relentlessly on task.

Lupin smiled when Harry mentioned this just outside the gate of Hogwarts. "You don't get to be an Auror by stumbling in to it."

"I reckon so," Harry murmured, wondering if he had that kind of drive to be an Auror. "When's my next lesson?"

"I'm not sure," Lupin replied. "There are a lot of schedules to coordinate. Professor McGonagall will let you know." Harry could just make out his smile in the darkness. "For once, I'm teaching a lesson where it's impossible to give you homework. Be grateful for small favors."

Harry trudged up the hill to the castle under a canopy of stars. He was wide-awake in the chill air. Now that his eyes adjusted to the night, he could see movement over the Forbidden Forest. A dragon was flying free with at least a dozen handlers on brooms surrounding it. Charlie had mentioned that they exercised the dragons, one at a time, at night.

He watched the dark shapes skimming the trees for a moment. Apparating might be the most practical way to travel, but flying was . . . beautiful.

He finished his journey back to the dormitory wondering how he could get that broom out of the cupboard and fly into the stars with Ginny.

Back to index


Chapter 10: Song of Slytherin

Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish for the beta read. And to clarify--I hope to have the *rough draft* done by the end of August. There will lots to post in September!

Chapter Nine: Song of Slytherin

It poured the morning of the Gryffindor Slytherin match, but by afternoon a very low ceiling of clouds was all that was left of the storm.

Harry looked at the clouds, thinking it was going to make his task all the more difficult. If the Snitch gained too much altitude, he would be flying blind after it. That was the least of his worries, though. One thought after another came tumbling through his mind. What if their Beaters couldn't protect Ginny and Jeanne? What if the Slytherins played dirty yet again? What about Ron? He had been spectacular during practice; would he hold up during the pressures of the match?

He shook himself. He was acting like a first year player. And why was he so concerned about Ginny? Last year Sloper and Kirke could barely swat a Bludger away from themselves and he wasn't worried about her safety then. You should have worried, you self-centered prat, he thought ruefully.

The excited chatter from the crowds added to his nervousness. Now that the Slytherins had a new line-up of players, the old prejudices were falling away as well. Maybe it was his imagination, but Harry didn't think the Ravenclaws would mind a Gryffindor loss.

To loud cheering, Harry heard the smooth voice of the new announcer. "Starting for Slytherin - Jones, Campbell, Pritchard - "

"Harry!" Ginny shouted in his ear. "We have to go on to the Pitch now." She squeezed his hand briefly and then ran ahead.

"And here are the 1996 champions, Gryffindor." The crowd cheered enthusiastically. When his name was called, Harry took off into the air, craning to see who was behind the microphone. He was surprised to see it was Michael Corner, although Ginny had mentioned that he was a serious Quidditch fan.

"Slytherin has the Quaffle, and it looks like they're attempting a Hawkshead Attacking Formation."

Harry looked down to see a ragged arrowhead pattern as the three Chasers bore down on Ron. It might have worked if the Quaffle holder hadn't tried a reverse pass only to have Katie catch it.

All action quickly flowed to the opposite end of the Pitch. Jeanne now had the Quaffle and was flying slowly toward the Keeper while the opposing Chasers swarmed around her.

Bludgers honed in on the knot of players gliding slowly toward the Slytherin hoops. It was hard to tell who was hit in the tangle of Beaters and Chasers surrounding Jeanne. Ginny wasn't one of them, since Jeanne somehow tossed the Quaffle high above the fray for her to catch it. How Jeanne had the elbowroom to move, Harry didn't know.

"And Gryffindor scores the first points of the Quidditch season!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw something gold zipping beneath the leaden skies. It was gone before he could react, but the Slytherin Seeker dashed after it, disappearing in the clouds. Harry knew the Snitch was long gone, but wondered if he should follow the Slytherin regardless.

He had barely made up his mind not to go, when the Seeker returned to a lower altitude, wet and agitated. Harry took a good look at him. He was a seventh year, about the same size as Harry. The most striking thing about him was the flamboyant way he flew: lots of dips and loops, which showed his nervous energy.

This was in direct contrast to Jeanne, who floated serenely toward the Keeper during much of the match. Not only was her flying mesmerizing the Slytherin Keeper, it was holding their Chasers in thrall as well. They were constantly trying to bat the Quaffle out of her hands or intercept a pass. When one of their Chasers had been hit by a Bludger for the fourth time, the Slytherin captain called a time-out.

"Good job with the feinting, Jeanne," Katie said, eyes shining. Ginny was flushed and smiling as well.

Jeanne fluttered her hands and said, excitedly, " The Bludgers can't get near me! I was really worried about that. I -"

"Jeanne, we'll talk about it after the match. Harry, how does Campbell look?"

"He's the new Seeker?"

Katie nodded.

"He's a bit twitchy. But a good flier," Harry replied.

"Ron, I know their captain is going to pull the Chasers away from Jeanne. That strategy is obviously not working for them. They started off with the arrowhead formation-they may go back to it, or another one they worked out before. Be ready to do some work."

Katie turned her attention to Harry. "If Slytherin starts scoring-don't hesitate to catch the Snitch. We've got enough points now. I know this Campbell bloke-he's dead keen. All of these Slytherins are. They have something to prove this year."

They nodded and returned to the air. The pace of the plays increased as the Slytherin Chasers found their rhythm. It was becoming a less lopsided game. Harry listened with one ear to Michael's commentary and concentrated on finding the Snitch through the wads of cotton wool cloud. Campbell kept tailing him, which was annoying, but at least Harry wasn't afraid of an ambush beyond the view of the crowd. So far it had been a clean game.

Suddenly Harry stopped. He thought he heard a faint buzzing. Looking up, he saw the Snitch hovering like a dragonfly. However, the Bludger tunneling a hole through the clouds was more compelling. He ducked. The Bludger flew on and so did the Snitch.

"Slytherin scores!"

He was getting worried. This Campbell was very good. But flying around frantically in the mist didn't seem like the best strategy.

He heard him coming before he saw him. The Slytherin Seeker was flying very fast toward Harry. Campbell couldn't see that he flushed the Snitch directly into Harry's outstretched hand. He also couldn't see Harry as he plowed into him at full speed.

*

"Harry, are you all right?"

"You both just fell out of the sky."

"What happened?"

"But you caught the Snitch! We won!"

Harry opened his eyes to see his teammates standing over him. Their jabbered comments and questions overlapped confusingly.

"Harry, can you talk?" Ginny asked tearfully.

"Is there a broom speared in my chest? I'm afraid to look."

She gave him a watery smile. "No - you landed on Campbell - who looks a lot worse than you, by the way. And Madam Hooch slowed down both of you before you hit the ground."

"Oh." He smiled in relief. He didn't have a broom sticking out of him and Ginny hadn't been hit by a Bludger. The pain would go away eventually. "See, we did slaughter Slytherin," he added before he passed out.

*

"A blow to the heart. Harry that could have killed you," Hermione scolded on the Monday evening following the match. She and Ron wore matching looks of concern. It was the first time he had seen either one of them since they carried him off the Pitch. He had spent the weekend in the hospital wing, taking potions and sleeping.

"I know." Harry sank into a chair next to Ron. "That's why Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let in any visitors. Campbell was just as bad off though. He's still there." He scanned the crowded common room. "Where's Ginny?"

"O.W.L. study group."

"Right." He was disappointed.

"She'll be back," Ron said carelessly. "She's been mooning around looking for you too."

"Really?"

"Just sit there and look pathetic. You'll get all the sympathy you can handle."

"I can handle a lot," he said with a grin.

Ron shook his head, amused. "Still - it was a good match - despite the new way you caught the Snitch."

Hermione mused, "The Slytherins were kind of going by the book, weren't they?"

"And we weren't," Ron said, "which is why we won. The book's a great starting point, but there's nothing like experience."

"You know, that's true," Hermione said, facing him. "You really improved this year."

"You think?" Ron was turning a mottled red.

"Since we missed your last match, I can't compare to that. But yes, you did." She studied him curiously. "How did you do it? I mean, how did you gain the confidence to get out there and win all of a sudden?"

If possible, Ron was redder than before. "Well, uh. I don't know. I reckon I just stopped thinking about myself and my mistakes and just started thinking about the game."

"You and your mistakes," Hermione said slowly. "It's like you stayed in the present instead of dwelling on the past."

"That's helpful when a Quaffle is coming at you," Ron said dryly.

"No, that's not what I meant," Hermione murmured.

Ron glanced at Harry. They both knew what she was talking about more than Quidditch.

"So when you're Keeper," she asked slowly, " you have to anticipate the future, don't you?"

"I dunno. I suppose so." Ron was now watching her curiously. "You have to guess what the Chasers are going to do."

"But how do you do that quickly and not second-guess yourself?"

"Well, there's no time for one thing." Ron shrugged. "And you won't always get it right for another. Once I accepted that, it was a lot easier."

Hermione gazed at him thoughtfully.

"You just keep at it, Hermione," Ron said, as if explaining something to a small child. "At times I've wanted to give up, but - if you care about something - you just keep at it." He was turning red again, his eyes locked with Hermione's.

Harry was wondering if he should leave them alone, when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"Oh, you're back!" Ginny bent down to talk to him. Her eyes searched his face. "You still look a little peaky. Are you better?"

She was stroking the back of his neck, which was distracting enough. He had forgotten how softly brown her eyes were and how caressing her voice could be.

"Harry?"

"Um, I'm ok - a little sore."

"You still hurt? That's terrible," she murmured sympathetically.

"Ginny, pull up a chair," Ron said. "You can fawn over ickle Harrykins more comfortably that way."

She shot Ron a dark look and dragged a chair over. "Guess what?"

Harry missed the hand at the back of his neck. "What?"

"Neville's plant has the hiccups and its sap has burned a hole in the Greenhouse, so Herbology is canceled tomorrow. Do you think you can skive off Care of Magical Creatures?"

Harry glanced at Hermione, who was struggling to look disapproving. She finally smiled and said, "Oh for heaven's sake, take an observation sheet and watch the elves in the kitchen."

"Yeah," Ron added, "since there aren't any elves in the kitchen after lunch."

*

"It looks like they're baking bread."

Harry glanced at the long table full of empty bread pans. The smell of yeast and flour was coming from a great vat covered with a cloth. "Oh, yeah - it's Tuesday. They make bread Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays. Happy will be back for the second rising, I reckon."

Ginny stared at him.

"I've learned a lot about house-elves," he said defensively. "Not that I wanted to - it just happened."

"How do you feel?"

"Better. I still have a huge bruise on my chest. Dumbledore canceled all my extra lessons for a couple of weeks. He doesn't want me to dissolve when I'm injured."

"Just when you're getting more time, I'm getting less." Ginny sighed. "They are really piling on the work before the holidays."

"I remember from last year. Let's sit over here out of the way," he said, indicating two chairs tucked away by the dressers full of dishes. "Happy doesn't always like us in his kitchen."

"So what's been going on?" he asked, taking her hand.

"I was really worried about you, especially when Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let you have visitors."

"Thanks for the get-well card by the way."

"Oh you got it?" she asked.

"Yes, its singing woke me out of a sound sleep."

"It did not sing!" She was indignant.

He laughed. "I must have it confused with a previous get-well card."

"Oh, Harry to see you fall out of the sky like that," she said with a break in her voice. "It brought that all back."

"Hey, I'm ok." He squeezed her hand.

"You know what else?" she asked seriously. "Two days without seeing you made me realize a few things." She paused. "Like why I was so upset that day in the laundry."

"Why were you so upset?" He tried to keep his voice neutral, afraid of scaring her off.

"Well . . ." She turned her left palm face up. "How this scar works, for one." She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. "You, for another."

"Me?" he asked, alarmed.

"You," she said, holding his gaze. "I think about you all the time. I look for you in the corridors."

She was speeding up now, talking in a rush. "I know your timetable by heart. I picture you in class. I wonder what you're doing. I'll hear something and I'll think about what you'd say - if you'd think it was funny or stupid or sad."

He was overwhelmed by this admission, since he felt the same way. But Ginny didn't seem happy about it. "Is that bad?"

"I don't know," she said in a forlorn voice. "Is it? I've never been so wrapped up in someone since - "

Then Harry knew what the problem was. "Tom Riddle," he said flatly.

"Oh, Harry - I'm not comparing you to him." Then she added in a vexed voice, "I was afraid I'd say this wrong!"

"Then what? What am I doing wrong?" he asked.

"It's not about you!" She jumped up and started pacing. "It's me," she said in a quieter voice, crossing her arms protectively. "I'm so messed up." She pleaded with her glance. "I'm afraid of . . ."

"What?" he asked softly, not daring to move.

"Being possessed again."

He didn't know what to say.

Then as if a dam had broken, more words flooded out. "He told me he loved me first, you know. He told me no one had ever cared about him before and that he needed me." Her expression was bitter. "So I gave him love and concern - which made him strong - and made me weak."

"I don't want to be that weak again," she whispered hugging herself.

She paced. "And then in the clearing, you described just how I felt in the Chamber. He used to do that - describe exactly how I felt."

She stopped and wrung her hands. "And that's good, right? It's good you understand."

He wished he knew what to say or do. Tom Riddle had the glib words; he didn't.

"I mean," she said in a trembling voice, " it would be stupid of me not to want you to understand."

She looked so small and alone. He stood up and gingerly put his arms around her. Her whole body was tense, as if she was going to bolt out the door at the slightest whiff of danger.

"I don't even know what I need from you to make it better." Her eyes were haunted.

"Shh." He started gently stroking her back, like he did with Hedwig when she was agitated. As the tension drained out of shoulders, she moved closer. Eventually she rested her head on his chest, which hurt, since his bruise was right there. But that pain didn't seem nearly as bad as what he felt like inside-for her.

He finally realized what he could say. "I don't want to possess you," he said to the top of her head. "Then you would be gone-and all that would be left would be me. And I can be by myself without all of the fuss of befriending you. I don't need to drag you into it."

She gazed up at him, thinking it over. "It is a little inefficient," she admitted wryly.

He tenderly smoothed her hair back from her face. When she did that, found those little bits of humor in the darkest situations, he felt such . . . He didn't have a label for that feeling.

Relief dawned in her eyes. "Telling you the truth . . .it helped." She smiled a little. "That, and the fact that you didn't run away once you heard it."

"If I ran away, how could I do this?" he asked, brushing her lips with his own.

She smiled and leaned against him again.

"You know," he said, "I'm in just as much in danger of being possessed as you are."

"What do you mean?"

"I think about you all the time too."

Her eyes were wide. "You do? I've never thought . . ."

"And I look for you in the corridors, and I wonder if you'll think something is funny or silly or sad."

"Oh."

Happy stomped in at that moment. Harry looked over at the vat of dough. It had doubled in size while they talked. The elf waved his hand over it. The dough moved over the table, broke into pieces and rained into the awaiting pans. With a satisfied grunt, Happy spread a cloth over the loaves and left.

"We probably should go," he said regretfully.

"Yes - you have to be in the library in five minutes."

"I'm glad you have my timetable memorized," he said with a grin. She swatted at him.

As they walked out, Harry realized they hadn't talked about the scar on Ginny's hand. Oh well, he thought, like Ron said, if you care about something, you keep at it. That's the way he was starting to feel about Ginny and her experiences in the Chamber. Little by little they were putting it to rest.

*

"I'm going to meet Hermione later - at Madam Puddifoots - you can join us if you like," Ron said to Harry as they walked to Hogsmeade on a snowy Saturday before Christmas.

Harry was incredulous. "Madam Puddifoots? Is this a date? You certainly don't want me along if it is."

Ron blushed and said vehemently, "No! It's not a date. I didn't think going back to the Three Broomsticks was such a great idea just yet."

"Oh yeah, the attack." Then Harry narrowed his eyes at Ron. "What's going on with you two anyway?"

"What do you mean?" Ron tried to sound nonchalant, but his red ears were giving him away.

"Have you kissed her?"

Ron grinned; he recognized this line of questioning from Kings Cross Station. "No."

"Do you want to?"

"Yes."

"Do you realize I want to hear all about it when the time comes?" Harry finished with a laugh, safe in the knowledge Ron wouldn't never tell him such a thing. He started running because Ron was now scooping up snow to throw at him.

One snowball whizzed by his ear. He turned his head to taunt Ron when he ran right into George Weasley.

"George! Fred!" Ron called, dropping the snowball. "What are you doing in Hogsmeade?"

"Dropping off a shipment of fake wands for Zonkos, little bro.' Thought we'd wait until your Hogsmeade day to do it so we could see you and Ginny."

"Although - we hear the lovers have been torn apart by the cruel edicts of Hogwarts," Fred said, dramatically clutching at his chest.

"A story worthy of Days of Destiny," George continued. "How will they reconcile to snog again?"

"Oh, Roderick," Fred said, putting his arm around Harry. "Have you forgotten her already in the ten minutes since you've seen her in the Great Hall?"

"You do have that amnesia problem," George said sympathetically.

"What a git," Ron said. "What's so great about that bloke anyway?"

"He has a fourteen inch wand," Fred smirked.

"Big deal." Ron rolled his eyes. "I have a fourteen inch wand."

George looked thunderstruck, and Fred asked with a straight face, "Does Hermione know?"

"What do you mean?" Ron said with a frown. "Hermione's seen my wand loads of times."

Harry just shook his head, glad that the attention was off of him but feeling sorry for Ron.

"I'm telling Mum," George said in mock indignation, "Rod - er Ron!"

Ron finally realized what the twins were driving at. After a short, but intense snowball fight, the twins looked at their watches and bade them their farewells before Disapparating.

"I do miss them," Ron said, digging the snow out of his collar. "Even when they are the biggest prats on the planet."

"Yeah, I think they miss you too," Harry said, looking at Ron's cloak closely. "Look at what they left you."

Ron pulled a bag of silver and gold coins out of his pocket. "How did they do that without me noticing?" His voice sounded a little thicker than normal.

"Probably the same way they lured you into talking about your er, wand - Rod."

Harry was digging snow out of his collar the rest of the way to the shops.

*

Harry returned alone to Hogwarts laden with parcels. He had the satisfying feeling of buying the right gifts. He knew Ginny was going to love the new gold clasps he had gotten for her hair. And, he comforted himself, over time, he would like his new sweatshirt as well as the old one.

Luna and Theodore Nott were standing together in the Entrance Hall. It didn't look as if either one of them had been to Hogsmeade: Luna, because she was in Ginny's year, and Nott, because he didn't look the sort to be on speaking terms with the Christmas Spirit.

He was surprised when they made a beeline for him, looking like someone had just died. His stomach lurched with dread. "Harry," Luna said gently, "have you seen this?" She took his parcels away so he could read what was on the piece of parchment.

It was a poem titled "Song of Slytherin." He read it with increasing anger.

This is a tale from four year ago

When Ginny Weasley met a foe

He was such a Riddle

She became caught in the middle

'Tween a diary and a Chamber below.

What was her obsession?

Why it was possession-

By the Dark Lord himself.

It was no mere elf.

Who gave that confession.

Ginny opened the Chamber

And subjected us to danger.

What could be left of her mind?

After possession of this kind?

We should ask the petrified Granger.

She set the Basilisk on her friends

But that's not how the story ends.

It's all been a secret

How did Harry Potter keep it?

She's the rightful heir of Slytherin.

Back to index


Chapter 11: Spin

A/N: Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish for the beta read, hairy_hen who scolds me if I skirt too close to cliches, and Nic83 who cheerfully answers all of my Brit picking questions.

Chapter Ten: Spin

Rage filled Harry's mind as he read to the end of the poem. He did nothing to stop it - all he wanted was revenge. He knew it was Pansy Parkinson who wrote it, and he was going to make her pay.

Through the roaring in his ears and the black dots swimming in front of his eyes, he headed toward the Great Hall, the parchment clutched in one hand, his wand in the other. After two steps something tripped him, and he hit the stone floor with an oomph. Someone grabbed his wand and put a knee on the back of his neck.

"Righteous anger isn't going to solve this one, Potter."

He couldn't see his attacker, but he knew it was Nott. "Grr off me, Nott."

"Harry." A hand and a lock of blond hair came into view. Luna was crouching next to him. "You can't help Ginny this way. We have a plan, if you'll just listen."

He wanted to yell and throw Nott off of his back so he could hit someone. He wanted to stoke his anger, because if he didn't, he would be powerless . . .

"What the hell is going on?" Ron roared. "Get off him!"

"Anger management, Weasley," Nott said lazily.

Luna's hair disappeared from his view. "Read this, Ronald."

When Harry heard the hopeless fury behind the string of curses coming out of Ron's mouth, he knew he would have to do something, anything to make this go away. Storming into the Great Hall and hexing Pansy Parkinson, as satisfying as that would be, would just add fuel to the gossip surrounding Ginny. He was out of his depth and he knew it. He took a deep breath and said in a calmer voice, "Grr off, Nott."

Immediately, Nott removed his knee and gave him a hand up. Ron was holding the parchment, his face red. When Harry caught Ron's eye he could see his own helpless anger mirrored there.

"What's your plan?" Harry asked wearily, running the back of his hand across his mouth. His lip was bleeding

.

Nott raised one eyebrow. "You trust me?"

"No," Harry and Ron said together.

It was the first time Harry had ever seen the Slytherin smile. "You don't have to trust me. Just give me some information."

Harry wondered if they were doing the right thing. They didn't know anything about Theodore Nott except that his father was one of the Death Eaters who tried to kill them at the Department of Mysteries. His gaze slipped to Luna. She had been in the same danger as the rest of them, and she seemed to trust Nott . . .

"How did your sister come across this diary that's in the poem?"

"Lucius Malfoy slipped it to her," Ron spat out.

A satisfied light gleamed in Nott's eyes. "Why am I not surprised?"

Ron crossed his arms and asked, "So how did Pansy get involved?"

"Your sister must have done something to set Pansy off - Parkinson doesn't do anything with cold-blooded deliberation - yet another reason she shouldn't be in Slytherin."

Harry remembered that spat in the Quidditch stands a few weeks ago.

Ron was still trying to piece it together. "How did Pansy find out from Malfoy? He's in prison."

"But Draco's not."

Ron was considering this. "Draco's never used this before. I don't think he knew until now. Do you think he's communicating with his dad?"

"If he is, I'm sure they're touching letters, full of paternal wisdom," Nott said carelessly. "The question is, how do we turn this back on Pansy?"

"Why do you want to do that?" Ron asked, suspicion on his face. "She's your housemate and Ginny's nothing to you."

"Because this is an opportunity - to show the sheep at Hogwarts which side I'm on - once and for all," Nott answered. "And it's a chance to shut up that insufferable cow - once and for all."

"And you hate injustice," Luna added in a serene voice.

"Right." Nott gave a short laugh. "And I hate injustice."

"What are you going to do? Confront her at supper?" Ron asked.

"That would allow the largest audience," Nott conceded, "but it's a bit vulgar. I'm banking on the grapevine to pass on our little talk." His dark eyes narrowed. "Here's the bovine princess now - with her herd."

Pansy Parkinson was returning from Hogsmeade with Millicent Bulstrode and two other sixth year girls, he didn't know. When she saw Harry, a malicious smile played on her lips. Yet she saved her comments for Nott. "Slumming it are you? It's noble of you to renounce the Death Eaters, but I don't think your new companions are much of an improvement."

Pansy's shrill voice had attracted the attention of several students passing by. Many stopped within earshot. Anything to do with Theodore Nott or Harry Potter was bound to be interesting.

"I have a weakness for those celebrated in song," he said sardonically. " Speaking of which, your newest efforts have again made Slytherin a laughing stock."

"What are you talking about?" Pansy flashed. "Gryffindor can hang its head in shame - one of their own was doing the Dark Lord's bidding."

"Your facts are wrong - yet again, Parkinson. Lucius Malfoy was doing the Dark Lord's bidding by tricking an eleven-year-old girl. Another high water mark for the Malfoy family."

"Don't you dare say anything against the Malfoys," she bit out. "That Weasley brat allowed herself to be possessed! She put this entire school in danger."

"Has it ever occurred to that empty mind of yours to question why no one was killed, only petrified, by that Basilisk?" Nott demanded.

"Please," Pansy snorted, "you think that weak-minded, stupid girl found a way to control a Basilisk and resist the Dark Lord?"

"Why is she still alive then?"

Pansy opened and closed her mouth.

"You know that no one's ever survived possession by the Dark Lord." He loomed over her. "How'd she do it?"

"Good looks and charm?" she flared. "How should I know?"

He stepped back. "Yes, how would you know about good looks and charm?"

Pansy went white and then red at this latest gibe. "What's your game, Nott?"

"No game." He crossed his arms. "Thanks to you, Slytherin is again the most reviled house at Hogwarts. Bringing up that Heir of Slytherin rubbish was pure genius - it will only take a few more years for people to stop connecting us to the Dark Lord."

"That's not what I meant to do," she faltered and looked at her friends.

"No, I don't think you meant to praise a Weasley, either. But that's how she's going to be remembered."

"How?"

"What do the Muggles call it - spin? That's the way we're going to talk it up. Any intelligent Slytherin is going to praise our little snake-charmer to the skies."

Pansy face contorted with rage. "You'll never get away with this, Nott. You think you're safe here with Dumbledore watching over you! I know your dad - he'll come after you first - you're a traitor to your family - to your blood."

Nott blanched, but answered calmly enough. "I wouldn't advertise your loyalty to blood right now, Pansy. People might get the wrong idea."

She quailed as she realized what she had just said. The eavesdropping students were whispering amongst themselves.

"This is your swan song, Parkinson." Nott glanced at Millicent Bulstrode. "Or is the fat lady going to sing?"

Turning on her heel, Pansy rushed off. Her friends looked at Nott appraisingly and then they too left, walking slowly toward the stairs to the dungeons.

Ron crumpled the parchment in his hand, looking grimly satisfied.

"Ron!" Hermione rushed up with a sheaf of papers in her hand. "Have you seen these? I've been pulling them off the notice boards ever since we returned from Hogsmeade. I know it was that cow, Pansy Parkinson! I'm telling Professor Snape - I don't care if he hates Gryffindor - he can't excuse that behavior - he should -"

"Good idea, Granger," Nott interrupted her, "Slytherin needs a change in Prefects."

Hermione looked at him in surprise as if she just realized he was there. Her eyes grew wider when she saw Luna and Harry as well. She turned to Ron and said wryly, "I think I missed something."

Ron shook his head, and then said in a mystified voice, "I'm not sure if I can explain it - but Nott here just had Pansy reveal that she's sympathetic to the Death Eaters and that Ginny was really the secret heroine behind the Basilisk attacks."

Hermione looked at Harry, bewildered. He could only shrug back at her.

"And don't forget, I'm now the noble champion for good, defying my evil family at great risk to my life," Nott said sarcastically.

"And don't forget," Luna added in her calm voice, "it's all true."

For once, Theodore Nott looked his age as he gazed uncertainly at Luna. She had just said he was a champion for good. She smiled at him and walked away without another word.

There's your drop of water, Harry thought, watching Nott try to rearrange his expression to one of cool indifference.

*

Ginny was sitting on the corner settee in the deserted common room, looking a bit dazed. A black cat with white paws regally stood guard, its tail wrapped around its haunches. The cat watched Harry approach, suspicion in its golden eyes.

"This is Mr. Boots?" he asked Ginny, wondering if the animal was going to let him sit down.

"Yes, Jeanne brought him over to comfort me." She gave him a wan smile. "And Diane prescribed the depression diet," she said, indicating the bowl of melting ice cream she had in her lap.

Harry addressed the cat. "I need to sit down now."

The cat didn't move a muscle.

"Isn't there a Mrs. Slippers you need to visit?" he asked in frustration.

Apparently there was, since Mr. Boots's ears twitched and he was off like a shot across the common room.

"There really is a Mrs. Slippers?"

Ginny's smile was a bit livelier. "A third year owns her - a sweet ginger cat."

"Ginger. I can see why Mr. Boots would be interested," he said sitting down. "Are you OK?"

"I'm not sure." She shrugged helplessly. "I mean, there's nothing new that can happen to me, except people know about my first year - or think they do. I've never had people talk about me behind my back - not like you."

"I don't know how much talking there's going to be, actually."

"Why?" She looked at him closely. "Your lip is bleeding. What did you do? You weren't in a fight, were you?" she asked anxiously.

"No, but I wanted to be," he admitted, "badly." Theodore Nott tripped me and practically sat on my head until I calmed down."

"Nott? Luna's project for the year?"

"The very same. It seems he has an axe to grind with Pansy Parkinson and the Malfoys. To make a long story short, the spin is that you kept the Basilisk from killing people, and survived being possessed. You get to be hero for the week - but you have to share center-stage with Nott for turning on his own evil family."

Ginny stared at him wide-eyed. "But - that's a great story and all - but we don't know if that's true. I don't remember any of it. How do you know if I did anything of the sort? I've thought about that a lot - it was just plain dumb luck that snake didn't kill anyone."

"You don't know that either - maybe you prevented something, maybe you didn't." He shrugged. "The thing is Nott has people thinking differently about that vile poem, and that's all that matters - which is something I never could have done."

"And you let him do it," Ginny said softly. "That's not like you at all. You really were thinking about me, weren't you?"

"I guess you have a new champion." He couldn't keep the question out of that statement as he stared at the floor, elbows on his knees. Somehow he felt like he had failed her, by not being the one to solve it.

At her silence, he looked over his shoulder at her. She was watching him with an expression he had never seen before, slightly amused, but tender nonetheless. "Theodore Nott doesn't care about me, it was convenient for him. You on the other hand . . ." She caressed his arm. "The purest motives from the purest heart."

Harry wasn't feeling particularly pure at that moment, but it was reassuring to hear that Ginny didn't think it was weak of him to turn over a fight to someone else. Relieved, he turned to kiss her, only remembering the cut on his lip when he touched her mouth. "Ow."

"Oh dear," Ginny giggled. "Here have this ice cream, it will take some of that swelling down."

Thinking that life really wasn't fair at times, he started eating. "Don't you want any?"

"I'm not hungry. Besides, I'm not up for the depression diet."

"I'm afraid to ask, but what is the depression diet exactly?" he asked, scrapping the bowl.

Ginny smiled. "Apparently, you start with ice cream. Then you go to chocolate. Somewhere in there you break it up with crisps - you know, the salt balances the sugar."

"Of course."

"So the next day - "

"The next day? How long are you supposed to be depressed?"

"This is key - now listen - the next day you don't eat anything. You just drink water. You won't mind because you're still full and bloated from all the salt and sugar you ate the day before."

Harry again realized he would never understand girls - ever. "So the goal of this diet is to feel fat instead of depressed?"

"No - there's day three."

"Day three!"

"Yes, on the morning of day three you wake up feeling virtuous for not eating anything the day before. It's like a new beginning. Then you can get on with your life."

Harry stared at her. "What ever happened to drowning your sorrows?"

"Too many calories."

"Too many - "

She was laughing now. "This is the calorie-free way to fight depression." She patted him on the knee. "Trying to explain the female mind to Harry."

"Glad I could help," he said, disgruntled.

"You do help," she said seriously. "In all kinds of ways." She slowly moved her face closer to his. Then she carefully kissed the side of his mouth, and then his top lip, and then on to the other side, avoiding the sore spot. He didn't breathe because he didn't want her to stop. I am now the Roger Davies of Gryffindor, he thought. And I don't care . . .

"There you are," Hermione called from the portrait hole. Harry wondered if she was going to reprimand them for kissing in the empty common room

.

Hermione had other things on her mind than Prefect duties, however. "Pansy Parkinson has been sacked as Prefect and she's in loads more trouble. Millicent Bulstrode is the new Prefect, although I don't know how much of an improvement she is going to be." She paused for a breath, her eyes gleaming. "Everyone is talking about how Nott tricked Pansy into revealing her sympathies. I don't think the bit about you and the Chamber is going to be as newsworthy, Ginny." And then she stopped and really looked at the two of them. "Are you ok - really?" she asked in a softer voice.

"I am. Really." Ginny smiled at Hermione. "Thanks for doing all that - for me. It means a lot."

Hermione blushed. "Well, it was the least I could do. I'm just glad Harry and Ron didn't lose their heads."

Harry was too, although it was somewhat galling to hear her point it out.

Hermione looked at her watch and said pointedly, "Everyone's at supper. You two should go down now."

"Ok," Harry said, not bothering to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

"I'll go first," Hermione said, smiling as she left them alone.

"Can all of us sit together tonight?" Ginny asked.

"That's a good idea. Ron and Hermione are experts at standing by the notorious," he said, feeling a surge of gratitude that he could rely on them to protect Ginny.

He squeezed her hand. "This will pass - someone will blow up a cauldron in Potions or get caught with firewhiskey and that will be the new gossip. And the Hogwarts Express leaves Monday for the holidays."

"I know." She sighed. "It's easy to sit here with you and not care - but when all those eyes are staring at me . . ."

"You can do it." He hated that she had to go through this, and again cursed Pansy under his breath.

As they walked hand in hand down the corridor, Harry asked, "Have you ever noticed that Roger Davies never looks depressed?"

*

Ginny had a couple of bad moments when some younger students asked her tactless questions about the Basilisk, but the rest of the weekend went by quietly. Most of the students were busy preparing to go home for the holidays. The Prefects were again stuck with the decorating duties, so Ron and Hermione had even less time to spend with Harry.

He noticed, because Ginny was bound and determined to continue studying over break. "Since when did you become a Ravenclaw?" he asked Monday morning as she poured over a spell-book.

"I want to finish this research so I can have this essay done before Christmas - then it won't be weighing at the back of my mind." Then she added, "You could try that, you know - doing your homework ahead of time."

"I didn't think that was an option for me," he said sarcastically. "I thought I had to procrastinate - thanks for pointing that out."

She put her quill down. "What's up with you?"

He stood up and wandered restlessly around the empty common room. He felt nervous and on edge and he didn't know why. "Sorry. I - look maybe I'll go for a walk - get some fresh air.

"Ok. I should be done in about an hour. Then we can spend some time together."

That mollified him somewhat, although he was starting to get a headache. Walking past the Great Hall, he heard someone as disgruntled as he was.

"Ron! I can't reach that hook from here and I'm going to drop this entire garland if you don't help me now."

"Just let it fall," came his impatient answer.

"The glass baubles are tied to it, and they'll break. And look how long it took us conjure them!"

Harry peeked in and saw Hermione balanced precariously on a very tall ladder, awkwardly holding the end of a twenty-foot garland. At that moment, Ron started up the ladder below her. "Blimey, Hermione, that's heavy!. I didn't know you were trying to put that one up! Why didn't you wait for me?"

"Because you were too busy putting the tinsel on the trees just so," she said acidly.

At two rungs below Hermione, Ron was eye level with her. With one long arm he grabbed the garland and easily looped it on the hook. She rubbed her arm and turned toward him, realizing too late that her face was inches from Ron's.

"Thanks," she said, blushing. Ron had one hand holding on to the ladder, which was just at the level of her waist. She backed away ever so slightly and moved into his arm.

Ron looked up and Hermione followed his gaze. They were under a sprig of mistletoe. Harry couldn't see Ron's face, but Hermione's eyes widened dreamily and her lips parted. Thinking he really shouldn't be spying on a big moment like this, Harry backed away and then heard, "Ron!"

"Sorry, Hermione - but a Nargle fell in your hair."

"A Nargle! There are no such things as Nargles!" She sounded thoroughly exasperated. Not that Harry blamed her, talk about ruining the mood.

"Oh, no? Look" Ron was showing her something in his hand.

"Ew, what do they do to you?"

"Oh they just wiggle around and make you itch. They'll infest furniture and rugs if you don't watch out."

"Mr. Weasly, Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall called from the opposite entrance. "Two on a ladder is not safe. Climb down this instant, Mr. Weasley."

"There are Nargles in the mistletoe, Professor," Hermione defended.

"Oh?" McGonagall asked with raised eyebrows.

"Yeah," Ron said as he jumped down from the ladder. "See." He showed her whatever it was in his open palm.

Professor McGonagall cringed. "Jumping from that height isn't safe either." She adjusted her glasses and inspected the creature. "Yes, that's a Nargle. Hagrid will have to be more careful when gathering the greenery. Best take it down, Weasley."

Ron started up the ladder.

"By yourself, Weasley."

Ron turned red and backed away to allow Hermione to climb down the ladder.

Harry continued on his walk, thinking about Ron and Hermione and how, if he ever had to give someone The Talk, he would mention that strange fact that two people on a ladder could bring out the strongest of feelings.

*

Harry returned to the common room, feeling no better for his walk. His head hurt more than ever and extra adrenaline seemed to be coursing through his veins. He was glad to see Ginny was finished with her essay.

"Are you ok?" she asked, looking worried.

"I don't know - something isn't right - I can just feel it."

"Feel it how?"

"I dunno. I have this headache. Maybe I'm coming down with something."

"Like a case of You-Know-Who-itis?"

Harry hadn't thought of that, but the feeling was a lot like Voldemort knocking at the door of his mind. He almost wanted to answer it . . .

He had to fight that temptation. "Ginny, I know you hate it, but could you please put your hand on my head? Then I'll know if it is Voldemort or just garden-variety insanity."

"Sure Harry." She smiled sympathetically. "Let's sit on the settee."

He put her head in her lap. The instant she touched his forehead all the anxiety and agitation vanished. "It is Voldemort." He sighed, enjoying the respite from the pain and turmoil. . He didn't want to talk anymore because it was so peaceful just lying there surrounded by Ginny. If they could always stay this way, just the two of them . . .

"Why is this happening - with me - and you?" she asked. From the sound of her voice, he knew she was anything but at peace.

Resigning himself to the fact that he wasn't going to drift along in a blissful haze anytime soon, he frowned and thought back to what Tom Riddle had said in the Chamber. "Ok, I know this is going to sound weird, but Tom Riddle said he left some of himself in you."

"He did?" Ginny moved her hand away in astonishment. "What else did he say?"

Harry replaced her hand and said firmly. "Grass blue, sky green."

"Ok." She sounded rather relieved. "But what does this have to do with the line on my hand or your scar?"

"Dumbledore said Voldemort left a part of himself in me when he cursed me - like the ability to speak Parseltongue." He moved his head so he could see her face. "Do you think you can speak Parseltongue?"

"I don't know," she answered, "I never thought about it."

"Anyway." Harry felt a little foolish, like he was spouting some theory of Luna Lovegood's. "What if the Tom Riddle in you is reaching out across the chasms of time and space to the Voldemort in me? Then they're whole again and the leak in my mind seals itself."

"Harry, you've been listening to Days of Destiny!"

"I have not!" he exclaimed from under her hand.

"They always say 'reaching out across the chasms of time and space' in Days of Destiny. So 'fess up."

"Well Madam Pomfrey had it on when I was in the hospital wing. Maybe it seeped into my unconscious while I was sleeping."

"They do play a weeks worth of episodes on Sunday morning," Ginny said. "But why would You-Know-Who want to be reunited with Tom Riddle?"

"Because he is a complete egomaniac. That re-birthing he had when he made a new body for himself - totally against nature. Believe me, the only one he would want to call across time and space is himself."

"You're right," she marveled, "Tom Riddle was exactly like that." She absently stroked his hair with her other hand. "So then, you don't think this line is some sign that I'm turning into you - or we're destined to be together or something?"

"No!" He shuddered; he certainly didn't like the idea of being marked, and he was sure Ginny didn't either. "Your fate line said that you would make choices at a young age. You chose to defy Tom Riddle and saved yourself - even if you don't remember - it happened somehow. The rest of the line is when you chose to play Seeker and got cut. That's it." He pulled her hands away and sat up. "You're not stuck with me unless you choose to be."

Ginny started to say something but Harry never heard it, since Hermione and Ron burst in with horrified faces. "Something awful has happened," Hermione said. "All of Voldemort's Death Eaters escaped from Azkaban this morning."

"And the Dementors helped them," Ron finished grimly.

Back to index


Chapter 12: Christmas

A/N: Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish and to everyone who has been reading and reviewing! I really appreciate the encouragement.

Chapter Eleven: Christmas

The two days before Christmas were tense ones for the wizarding world. The Death Eater's escape was discovered at the same time the Hogwarts Express was leaving Hogsmeade. There were many relieved parents when the train pulled into Kings Cross Station unscathed.

Ron and Ginny could not rest easy until each and every Weasley was accounted for. Even though it was illogical to think that the Death Eaters would make a beeline for the Burrow or Diagon Alley or Gringotts, that didn't stop them from worrying.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sent word first. They were going to spend Christmas with Percy and his girlfriend, Penelope. Harry was glad to hear that Percy had patched up his differences with his parents, but thought it was going to take longer for him to reconcile with his siblings. Ron said that Percy was on speaking terms with Bill and Charlie, but had hit a snag with the twins.

Fred and George owled them from an undisclosed location. A member of the Order had a manor house and was opening it for the holidays. Tonks and Lupin were to be there as well - unless they were needed elsewhere, the twins added on an ominous note.

They didn't need to worry about Charlie, since they could look out the window and see him with Norbert or the any of the other three dragons, his hair a bright companion to their colorful scales.

The final letter trickled in the morning of the twenty-fourth as they ate breakfast together in the echoing Great Hall.

"It's from Bill," Ron said, prying off the seal. Another letter tumbled out. "Oh good, he must have contacted your parents, Hermione," he added, handing her the Muggle envelope.

"My parents?" Hermione questioned, slitting open the letter. "But they're in the French Alps skiing."

"Bill's in France too - meeting Fleur's family. I asked him to check on your mum and dad."

"You did? Oh, Ron!" She clutched the letter tightly and gave him a tremulous smile. "Thank you - I was so worried and didn't know how I was going to contact them."

"Thank Bill," he said, trying to sound nonchalant, even though his ears gave him away.

Harry doubted that the Death Eaters would bother showing up at Privet Drive when they knew that he would be at Hogwarts. After a day wrestling with his conscience, he sent the Dursleys a note anyway, thinking that Aunt Petunia would at least know what he was talking about.

Aunt Petunia sent a reply reminding Harry that as long as he didn't come near them, they were safe enough. While he wasn't surprised at Aunt Petunia's message, Harry wondered why he had bothered in the first place. He wished he could be more like Theodore Nott, who seemed to be quite clear about his loyalties.

Harry wondered if he could walk away from his family so easily. Probably not, he admitted to himself. Why did he have this weakness of spirit, which caused him to let Wormtail go and moved him to save Dudley from the Dementors? Theodore Nott wasn't worried about his father's safety; why was he worried about Uncle Vernon's?

"They're having a lovely holiday." Hermione was reading bits of the letter out loud. "They really liked Bill. Hmm, Mum says good looks seem to run in the Weasley family." She looked up and smiled impishly at Ron. "That's right, they've seen Ginny loads of times."

"Ha, ha," Ron said mockingly. Patches of red appeared on his cheekbones.

Ginny was laughing too. Harry sensed her relief in hearing from Bill, and now she could enjoy Christmas knowing everyone was safe.

*

Christmas morning Harry woke to the sound of sleet skittering on the windows. It was quite early, judging by the bitter cold and the blue-black darkness. He burrowed under the covers hoping to go back to sleep. But he couldn't - because he was thinking about Sirius and how he was gone, never to return. The pain of it left him breathless. There wouldn't be a present from him this year. He had had thirteen years worth of presents from his godfather when he received his Firebolt and then there were two more Christmases - and that was all. There would be no more - ever. Maybe it was that number: fifteen. It was so surgically precise. All this and nothing more.

He heard Ron stir in his sleep. For some reason that sound comforted him. He wasn't alone; he was safe in his bed, surrounded by friendly castle walls and guardian dragons. Sirius had slept in Gryffindor tower too. For seven years he had his friends by his side in a place of light and magic. Thinking of Sirius happy and young soothed the ache, and Harry fell back to sleep.

"Oy - sleeping beauty! Wake up!" Ron pulled the covers off of him in one startling motion.

"Ok," he said, over the rapid beating of his heart. "I'm up." He groped for his glasses.

Ron threw him some clothes. "Get dressed. We have presents in the common room."

Hermione and Ginny were waiting in the grouping of squishy chairs by the fireplace. Ginny was wearing his old sweatshirt and the new gold clasps in her hair. They had obviously been up for a while.

"Merry Christmas, Harry! Open your presents!" Ginny exclaimed in an excited voice. Now that he was waking up, he felt a surge of happiness too. The first gift he opened, he was relieved to find, was a Weasley jumper. Mrs. Weasley must have forgiven him. He made a great show of putting it out of sight of Ginny's covetous stare. She laughed and sent him a smug look, which clearly told him that it wouldn't be his for long.

Hermione's present was a binder with pages of pockets. "So you can organize your Chocolate Frog cards," she explained. There was a master list of all the Chocolate Frog cards ever made as well. When he went to examine it, Ron pulled it away and gave him another box to open. "Mine next."

Harry tore off the wrappings to find a very large box of . . . Chocolate Frogs. They must have coordinated their gifts, Harry thought, with a smile.

"Open it," Ron demanded.

"Oh, I don't think I want chocolate for breakfast."

"Just open it. There's more inside."

Mystified, Harry broke the seal and inside found an array of Chocolate Frogs neat in their wrappers - and a bunch of cards. These were no ordinary cards - they were handmade and were of all the people in his life.

The first one he picked up said: "Sirius Back 1958-1996. Godfather to Harry Potter and best friend to James and Lily Potter. Mr. Black was skilled at Transfiguration and became an unregistered Animagus to assist his friend, Remus Lupin, during his monthly transformation. Escaped from Azkaban prison to protect his godson. Provided headquarters for the secret order fighting You-Know-Who. Mr. Black enjoyed playing pranks on his friends and watching his godson grow into a fine young man."

Swallowing hard, he turned the card over to view the moving drawing. It was of Sirius, laughing with his head thrown back, like Harry had seen him laugh a hundred times before. It was so realistically done; he could almost hear the bark.

Ginny was watching him anxiously. "You made these?" he asked in a voice not quite his own.

"Yes." She moved to sit on the arm of his chair. "But Ron and Hermione helped. I drew the portraits when we couldn't find photographs. Ron tracked down the photographs and gave me ideas about what to write. And Hermione helped to charm the pictures." She hesitated. "Do you like them?"

He nodded, not trusting his voice. He shuffled through them. There was a photo of Ron, sprawled on a settee. "Sacrificed himself in a chess game on the way to the Philosopher's Stone . . .Stood on his broken leg to defend his friend . . . Mr. Weasley enjoys wizard chess . . .eating . . .predicting the future . . .eating some more . . .the Chudley Cannons . . ."

Harry smiled and picked out another.

There was Hermione waving. "An ardent defender of house-elf rights . . . Used the Time-Turner to rescue Sirius Black . . . Has consistently earned top marks in her class . . .Ms. Granger enjoys reading . . . knitting . . ."

Harry moved on to a breath-taking photograph of Ginny. She was looking over her shoulder and smiling slightly, with the wind blowing her bright hair straight out, covering the side of her face a bit. He scanned the back. " . . .Enjoys drawing. Playing Quidditch. . Days of Destiny . . . collecting jumpers. . "

All the Weasleys were there - and Lupin and Tonks and his dorm mates.

Then he came to his own card. Ginny had drawn a picture of him in profile, with an intent look of concentration, like he was listening to someone talk. On the back he saw his biography with some interesting details thrown in. "Mr. Potter enjoys home-improvement projects. . . Playing Quidditch . . .secretly listening to Days of Destiny . . . Was one of the youngest Seekers ever to play for Hogwarts . . . Killed the Basilisk in the Chamber . . . Saved Arthur Weasley's life . . . Never runs away when Ginny shouts or cries . . .has the most beautiful eyes . . ."

He felt her hand on his shoulder and he covered it with his own. Ron and Hermione were smiling at him. He knew he had to say something. "Um . . . It's a great present - thanks."

"It's certainly a better present than what you gave Ginny," Ron said. "What possessed you to give her that tatty sweatshirt? When you bought the new one, I thought we were done looking at it."

"Because I wanted it," Ginny said. "And you have room to talk - nice orange and pink socks you gave Hermione. They'll burn a hole through your retinas if you look at them too long."

"I like them," Hermione said firmly. "They're warm and cozy. And besides - they're unusual - not your ordinary socks."

"So I reckon we all had a great Christmas," Harry interrupted.

No one could argue with that.

*

They spent the morning going through Harry's huge pile of Chocolate Frog cards. It was fun to read about the achievements, and sometimes the tribulations, of famous witches and wizards. They even discovered that Harry had some rare, limited edition cards. Ron was quite enthusiastic about these, but Harry felt the real treasures were the ones Ginny had made for him.

In the afternoon Ron and Harry decided to brave the bad weather and call on Hagrid. Hermione and Ginny opted to stay behind and get ready for the feast, since this year it was a formal affair.

"You don't think Hermione's going to do that thing with her hair, so I don't even know her - do you?" Ron demanded as they made their way through the driving wind to Hagrid's hut.

Harry had no idea what Ron was talking about. "I'm sure you'll know her. You've been best friends for almost six years now."

"Yeah, but she keeps surprising me."

"Girls have a way of doing that," Harry replied, thinking of all the ways he had been caught off balance by Ginny this year.

They found Hagrid with Charlie, ministering to a purple dragon lying on the ground. "It must be a new one," Harry speculated.

"No - it's Norbert!" Ron cried, speeding up.

Charlie had one hand on Norbert's neck and was checking his watch. "Pulse is fast, Hagrid."

"I knew it! I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him lay'n on ter ground. What's wrong with 'im?"

"He hasn't been close to the lake by any chance has he?" Charlie asked with narrowed eyes.

Hagrid looked uncomfortable. "Might of bin. This morn'n he had his snout under that thin ice by ter shore."

Charlie sighed. "We have to keep him away from the lake. He's eaten a Mackled Malaclaw - or several by the looks of him. He's going to have that purple rash for a while and the fever."

"Poor Norbert! And fer Christmas too!"

Norbert let out a pathetic sigh accompanied by a thin pink flame.

"Mummy will stay with you until you're all better," Hagrid crooned. Norbert gazed feverishly at Hagrid and then closed his eyes.

"This near 'ter break my heart."

"He'll be all right, Hagrid. I'll stay too. By evening we'll see an improvement."

"I'd breathe easier, know'n you was here, Charlie," Hagrid said.

"Charlie, you're going to miss the big feast!" Ron protested.

"Oh, I'll get plenty to eat." Charlie waved that away. "Besides I don't care for these formal affairs."

"I'm going to give Norbert his Christmas present, that might cheer him up," Hagrid said.

"You're both daft!" Ron shook his head. "You're going to sit outside in terrible weather with a dragon who had an allergic reaction to shell-fish?"

"It's not technically a fish," Charlie said. "Brother with the heart-of-stone."

"At least I'm not the brother with the head-of-stone."

"There you go, Norbert!" Hagrid said brightly, putting a huge pink teddy bear in front of Norbert's face.

Norbert feebly tried to rip its leg off.

"Isn't that 'ter saddest thing?" Hagrid said tearfully.

Ron groaned. "I give up. Come on, Harry. Even sitting in dress robes trying to make polite conversation is more fun than this."

*

Harry had fun just watching Ron preen in front of the mirror wearing the dress robes that the twins had bought him last year. Since Fred and George had the foresight to buy a self-adjusting size, they still fit.

All thoughts of Ron's pride in his appearance fled when he saw Ginny. She had twisted her hair into a knot at the back of her head, which set off the fine bone structure of her face and the lovely lines of her neck and shoulders. Harry had never really noticed that she had the Weasley nose. On Ron it just looked . . . long. On Ginny, it looked regal. In fact, her entire appearance reminded him of one of the grand ladies in the portraits at Hogwarts - and he was a little intimidated by her. Then she smiled and she was Ginny again.

"Mum didn't pick out those robes did she?" Ginny asked, her eyes dancing.

"How did you know?"

"They don't match your eyes, for one," she replied. "You look nice," she added a bit shyly.

"So do you," he answered just as shyly. He couldn't think of anything else to say because all he could think about was how very kissable that spot looked right where her neck met her shoulders . . .

"Are you going to talk tonight?"

He laughed. "No, I'm just going to drink in your beauty."

"You have been listening to Days of Destiny."

"Nah, I talk like this all the time, don't I, Ron?"

Ron wasn't listening and he wasn't talking either. He was staring at Hermione, who hadn't done anything out of the ordinary with her hair as far as Harry could tell. Her pink robes made her complexion a bit rosier, or maybe it was all the blushing she was doing under Ron's stare.

"You look nice too, Ron," Ginny said. "Mum wanted me to take a few snaps of all of us dressed up. Colin let me borrow his camera."

They went to the Great Hall and took some photos in front of the Christmas tree. That seemed to break the tension for Ron and Hermione. All was back to normal as they began their meal with a starter of smoked salmon. From where he was seated, Harry couldn't hear what they were saying until Hermione spoke up.

"Ron! The elves have been working for days on this meal," Hermione scolded. "The least you can do to show your appreciation is to slow down and examine what you're putting in your mouth before you inhale it."

"This is how I show my appreciation. I have a hearty appetite," Ron mumbled through his food.

"It's rude to talk with your mouth full." Hermione glared.

"And it's rude to correct people's table manners," Ron pointed out in an undertone.

Hermione had the grace to look abashed since they were seated with several professors and some interested Hufflepuffs who had never seen Ron and Hermione in action. The Ravenclaws and Slytherins were at another table with Dumbledore and Snape. Harry noted with amusement that Nott and Snape had identical looks of boredom. He wondered if they ever spoke to one another, or if Nott knew which side Snape was really on.

A joint of beef and Yorkshire pudding appeared on each table along with bowls of vegetables. Ron slowed down for this course, since he, Professor McGonagall and Hermione were in a lively discussion about Quidditch. Hermione had certainly done her homework since she was dropping references to obscure plays and players Harry had never heard of.

Ginny was being monopolized by two chatty Hufflepuff girls, so Harry concentrated on the excellent food and watching everyone - especially Ginny. He didn't have a chance to do that very often - to just watch her.

After huge slices of Christmas cake, the feast was finally over. On their way out they met Hagrid hovering outside the door.

"Hagrid! Why didn't you come in?" Hermione asked.

"I'm not dressed for it, and I'm not feel'n particularly Christmassy-if you know what I mean. Charlie wants this potion fer Norbert. I'd ask Professor Snape myself, but he's still a little sore about Norbert setting his robes on fire the first day." Hagrid noted their looks of surprise. "He scared Norbert-he wouldn't hurt a flea otherwise."

"You'd better not spread that around, Hagrid," Ron said. "Norbert supposed to be a guard dragon."

"Will you two get the potion from Professor Snape? Right now? Norbert is really sick."

Ron sighed and looked at Harry. How could they say no? The dragon was purple. "Sure."

They dragged their feet on the way to the dungeons; somehow they didn't think Snape was going to enthusiastically mix up an elixir for a dragon that had tried to fry him. Theodore Nott was also tarrying in the corridor outside of the Slytherin common room. Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to talk to Nott-or even what they would say in an ordinary conversation. Somehow he didn't think Quidditch would take them too far.

Nott heard them coming and looked up just as several very loud cracks echoed off the stone walls of the corridor. A half dozen elves, arranged in a circle, had just Apparated in - with Draco Malfoy in the center.

*

"You!" Nott cried, reaching for his wand.

Draco Malfoy shot a jet of orange at Nott which appeared to do little or no damage. Harry and Ron both raised their wands to retaliate when they were blasted off of their feet. "No hurt Mr. Draco," said a squeaky voice. Three house-elves were standing over them, fingers pointed.

Malfoy was taunting his former housemate. "Thought you were safe didn't you? Hogwarts isn't as impregnable as everyone thought. You made the wrong choice, Nott. That little trick you pulled on Parkinson was the last straw. The Dark Lord may think you're not worth going after, but I think that disloyalty to blood should be punished."

"You and what army, Draco?" Nott sneered. "The wee ones are going to short-sheet my bed?"

"Don't underestimate the house-elves, Nott - with them I have powers you never dreamed of."

"Keep dreaming Malfoy - even though your daddy dear is out of prison, it doesn't mean the Dark Lord has the people or the supporters to pull off any sort of victory." Nott's dark eyes glowed with enmity. "Go back to that school where you sleep in the snow and eat raw meat. See what following that loser has done for you."

"Don't you dare speak of the Dark Lord that way!" Draco's pale skin was a livid red. "You have no respect for the ways of the magical world and neither does this school. Wait until you see what we have planned for Hogwarts - it will rock the very foundations of this place." He held up a vial of clear liquid and poured it on the floor. It immediately thickened and puddled into a rounded gelatinous mass, about the size of a saucer. "Here's your clue."

He glanced back at Harry and Ron. "The Dark Lord will take care of you, Potter. And don't worry Weasel King - the Malfoys will not rest until the blood-traitors that you call a family are wiped out. We'll start with - "

Harry had heard enough. It was time to get rid of Draco in mid-speech before he let the elves loose on them or tried some more foreign hexes. Since he and Ron were sprawled on the floor, but still had their wands, it seemed a good time to try a maneuver they had learned only a few weeks ago in the Auror's class. He caught Ron's eye and then nodded.

They each rolled in the opposite direction, catching the house-elves off guard. Then they shouted Stupefy and added the homing suffix. The tragectory of the hex went over the elve's heads and turned toward Draco. Both stunners hit their target in the chest.

With their leader unconscious the elves had no one to issue orders. Frightened, they quickly circled Malfoy and each grabbed a handful of his clothing. With another enormous bang, they Disapparated.

Theodore Nott had sunk to the floor, clutching his knee. "What did Malfoy hit you with?" Ron asked urgently.

"Just took out my knee cap," Nott gasped.

"How did you stand the pain so long?"

"He put a delay on the spell-that's the orange glow," Nott bit out. He was very white around the lips.

"We'll get you to the hospital wing," Harry said, starting to lift him under one arm.

"No - have to see Dumbledore first. Don't know what this means for Hogwarts."

"I'll get Snape, he's closer," said Harry.

"No!" Theodore Nott grabbed the front of Harry's robes, a look of terror in his eyes. "You can't tell him. You don't know . . . about him."

Then Harry realized that Nott thought that Snape was a Death Eater. He really had to hand it to Nott to be attending Hogwarts when he thought a colleague of his fathers was the head of his house.

"We know - " Ron started to say, but stopped when he saw Harry's expression. "Ok - let's get you to Dumbledore."

"Potter! Weasley! Unhand him immediately!" Professor Snape hurried up the corridor, his wand out. "I heard several Apparition cracks." He looked at Theodore Nott's ashen face. "What have you two done to him?"

"Nothing!" Harry bellowed.

"Potter, you will address me in a respectful manner," Snape hissed. "I thought the Headmaster was teaching you some manners." He knelt in front of Nott and examined his knee.

Harry took a deep breath and watched Snape conjure a splint and some wrappings. He didn't trust himself to say anything.

Ron took the intiative. "Nott needs to talk to Professor Dumbledore, sir. He doesn't understand how there is a certain Order of things here at Hogwarts."

Snape stared at Ron, and then he smirked. "My goodness Weasley, we're going to have you writing secret codes next."

Ron's face burned.

"What's that on the floor?" Snape asked sharply.

The clear mass looked like a thick soap bubble, except it was rippling slightly.

"Dunno," Harry said and then casually dropped his bombshell, "Malfoy left it."

Theodore Nott sucked in his breath.

Snape turned abruptly. "Which Malfoy? And how?"

"Draco - with house-elves."

Snape looked at Harry, thinking hard. "Nott, can you walk?"

He struggled to his feet and gingerly put his weight on one leg. "Yeah, I think so."

"Go directly to Dumbledore's office. Do not tell this to anyone but him, you understand? I will be there shortly."

Theodore Nott resisted any overtures of help, so it was a slow procession to Dumbledore's tower. Harry turned to see Snape nudging the goo with his wand. It expanded and stretched but stuck firmly to the floor.

He wondered what else they were to be stuck with, now that the Death Eaters had escaped.

Back to index


Chapter 13: Into The New Year

Chapter Twelve: Into The New Year

"How did Malfoy Apparate into Hogwarts?" Nott rasped as he hobbled up a moving staircase. Harry and Ron matched their steps to his, as they slowly made their way to Dumbledore's office.

"He didn't - the elves carried him along."

"How do you know house-elves can do that?"

"We've been studying them all year - for Care of Magical Creatures," Ron replied.

Theodore Nott stopped in astonishment. "You've been doing house-elves?" He shook his head. "We're doing Flobberworms."

Harry exchanged glances with Ron; if the circumstances weren't so grave, he would have laughed.

The circumstances were right for the portraits to be laughing when they entered Dumbledore's office. In a rare show of frivolity, former Headmasters and Headmistresses of Hogwarts were raising their glasses in Armando Dippet's portrait.

When Phineas Nigellus spied them, he moved to his own frame and began in a snide voice, "Two Gryffindors and a Slytherin walk into a pub . . ."

"Not him," Theodore Nott moaned as he sank into a chair. "He's in our common room."

Harry never imagined that he would feel sorry for the Slytherins, but Snape and Phineas would be a strong dose to take each and every day.

The other portraits went silent when Snape arrived, staggering under the weight of a cobblestone. When he set it on the floor Harry realized that he had wrenched it from the corridor floor, bubble and all.

This unusual detail did not escape Phineas. "Ah, Professor Snape - branching out to manual labor. Not quite the Slytherin thing to do is it? They say working by the sweat of one's brow is noble." He examined his nails. "Not that I would know, of course."

"Where's the Headmaster?" Snape growled.

"Spreading some Christmas cheer," Phineas replied. "He's to return within the hour. I'm sure he will be delighted with your gift, Severus."

"It's not a gift," Snape ground out. "Hogwarts has been infiltrated. Please alert Professor Dumbledore."

Dilys Derwent spoke up. "I can reach him from my other portrait."

"Hogwart's has been invaded by slime?" Phineas asked, wrinkling his nose in distaste.

Thinking of Draco Malfoy, Harry silently agreed that truer words had never been spoken.

"In a manner of speaking," Snape said dryly.

They lapsed into silence and stared at the gelatinous substance on the stone. It looked neither sinister nor dangerous, just . . . gross.

With a small whish, Professor Dumbledore entered with Fawkes. He immediately went to the stone and examined the bubble closely. He took out his wand and said a few words under his breath. Nothing happened.

"What's your guess, Severus?"

"It's a secretion of some sort - from a beast or a plant." Snape looked puzzled. "That's no potion."

Dumbledore sniffed. "Did you notice? It smells somewhat like . . ."

"Mimosa," Snape finished for him.

The Headmaster nodded and swirled his wand. The stone rose into the air and then vanished. "I put an Imperturbable Charm on it and moved it to the dungeon next to yours. We will continue our examination at a later time."

He looked at Theodore Nott and his face softened. "Mr. Nott, you have been injured. Madam Pomfrey will take you to the hospital wing."

Theodore Nott opened his mouth to protest, but then shut it and nodded. Harry felt sorry for him since he wouldn't know what was being said or decided. He had been in that boat last year, and it had backfired on Dumbledore - on all of them.

Once Nott left, the questioning began with Harry and Ron telling the entire story.

"But why were you in the corridor in the first place?" Snape asked when they finished.

"Norbert! He's ill," Ron exclaimed, striking his forehead with his hand. "We forgot all about his potion!"

Snape looked sour at the mention of Norbert.

"So that's where they came in," Dumbledore said softly. "With Norbert stricken, that section wasn't being guarded. House-elves can Apparate with someone, but not at a great distance. They must take it in stages." He thought for a moment. "What was Mr. Malfoy wearing?"

Harry and Ron looked at each other. Clothes weren't a detail they usually bothered with.

"Um-something with fur around the collar," Harry hazarded.

"Boots," Ron said. "Tall Leather boots. He kind of looked like a mad, dark-side Father Christmas, if you know what I mean."

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled but he answered soberly, "We'll search the grounds, to see where security was breached. And we can deliver Norbert his medicine, can't we Professor Snape?"

Snape was not overjoyed at this directive.

"I shouldn't worry that Draco Malfoy knows the priorities and inner workings of the Death Eaters," Dumbledore reassured Ron and Harry. "From all of our accounts, he has been in school until Monday of this week. What we don't know is if he was acting on his own accord or if he was directed."

Then his eyes narrowed and anger surfaced in his voice. "This is twice Voldemort has sent underage wizards on hazardous, yet strategically disadvantageous missions."

"Professor," Harry blurted, "can we tell Theodore Nott what we know?"

"You don't know anything!" Snape snarled before Dumbledore had a chance to reply. "That's the way to keep it, Potter."

Looking into Snape's cold eyes, Harry almost suffocated on his own resentment. This was something he would not let go. He turned away from Snape and addressed Dumbledore, "Can somebody talk to him about this - please?" Harry looked at Ron for support. "It's important for him to know. He has a lot at stake in this and . . ." How could he explain that he didn't want Theodore Nott to repeat his mistakes from last year?

To Harry's intense relief, Dumbledore listened. "You're right, of course. I shall speak to Mr. Nott this evening." Then he stood up and said briskly, "Now Professor Snape, let's visit a sick dragon, shall we?"

*

"What's mimosa?" Ron asked Hermione the minute they were back in the common room.

The girls were waiting by the fire, having changed out of their dress robes.

"A flower that grows in the tropics. It's really strong smelling." Hermione replied as Ron dropped down beside her. "Why?"

They told their tale again. Harry felt Ginny shiver at Malfoy's threat to wipe out the Weasley family. "I wonder which one of us they'll go after first?" she asked, exchanging glances with Ron.

Ron's sudden look of fear took Harry by surprise. This was something Ron had never discussed with him.

"That's just inflated talk from a Malfoy," Hermione said in a disdainful voice. "If it took six house-elves just to get that little ferret into Hogwarts, how are they ever going to gather enough elves to do any real damage here? And your brothers are all of age and very capable."

Ron's shoulders dropped at Hermione's common sense. A house-elf invasion or Voldemort stalking each Weasley did seem a bit far-fetched.

"Do you think they gave Norbert those Mackled Malaclaws to eat?" Harry asked.

"That seems a bit humane for a Death Eater, don't you think?" Ginny answered. "Why not just leave poison?"

"Because if the dragon is sick all day - from natural causes - no one is suspicious." Hermione speculated. " There are no searches for clues - no one's guard is up."

Ron hunched forward and asked slowly, "Who tipped off Malfoy for the best time to get Nott alone? Who knew when the feast ended?"

Hermione sighed. "You think there was help from one of the Hogwarts house-elves don't you?"

"Maybe." Ron looked at her over his shoulder. "I hope not."

"Are you thinking it was Happy?" Hermione demanded.

"He is related to the Goyle house-elves," Ron replied.

"Yes." She sounded tired. Harry thought what a disillusionment it would be for Hermione if they found proof that one of her beloved elves turned out to be on the wrong side.

*

Perhaps Professor McGonagall wanted to keep their minds off of things, or perhaps she made the shrewd guess that this particular group of Gryffindors shouldn't be left without chaperones, because from Boxing Day onward, she kept them busy.

"I thought these were the holidays," Ron grumbled as he hefted a bag of Dragon O's on to his shoulder. Harry and Hermione followed along the snowy path toward Norbert with pails of dragon grooming items and three brooms.

"Oh, I volunteered us," Hermione said and then faltered when she saw Ron's scowl. "It was either doing this or cataloguing the new books in the library." She sent a look of appeal to Harry. "I thought you two would rather be outside - and on brooms."

"It's ok," Harry said. He really didn't care since he couldn't be with Ginny anyway. And it was a beautiful winter's day to be outside: clear and windless.

When Ron didn't add any words of protest, Hermione continued with her reasoning, "Besides, we can learn a bit more about dragons this way. They're really very interesting."

"So are house-elves - and they feed themselves," Ron retorted without heat. "And they stay inside."

It was so cold, the snow crackled beneath their feet.

Hermione laughed. "Ron Weasley, staunch defender of house-elves."

Ron ignored the irony and continued. "House-elves polish things - why do we have to polish the dragons?"

"Because they are all different breeds and they can't groom each other properly like they do in the wild," Hermione said. "Don't you listen to Charlie?"

Ron shot her a look, which plainly answered that question.

"At least we're not stuck studying for O.W.L.s like Ginny," Harry said, as he again mourned the fact that he couldn't seem to find any way to be alone with her. Between McGonagall and two Prefects as best friends, they were well supervised.

"Yeah or stuck in the dungeons with Snape like Theodore Nott," Ron added as they reached Norbert's post.

.

"I'd like to know what they're finding out about that bubble of resin." Hermione muttered.

"It's one of Lockhart's hair care products gone wrong," Ron declared. "Mark my words."

"Dragon polish could also fit that description," Harry said, opening a tin of wax, which smelled like . . . lilacs.

"Norbert, you are going to be the most handsome dragon at Hogwarts," Ron remarked, spilling the Dragon O's on the ground. They were blood red and the size of tires. Norbert delicately speared one with his tongue and held it in his mouth for a moment, his eyes closed blissfully. "A connoisseur." Ron observed. "What do you reckon is in them?"

After H-E.P. Harry didn't want to know the contents of anything having to do with magical beasts. Now that Norbert was happily distracted with his treats, they mounted their brooms and started polishing.

As far as chores went, this one was quite pleasant. Norbert threw off so much heat that even on a frigid December day, they stayed comfortable. His scales felt like warm leather and took on a soft sheen when polished. It reminded Harry of waxing an enormous black car. They were just finishing the points on the dragon's back when he spotted Ginny walking out of the castle. Giving Norbert a final affectionate pat, he flew to meet her.

"Madam Pince threw us out because a group of Ravenclaws are helping her in the library." She took a deep breath of clean, cold air. "I'm tired of studying."

"Look what I found in the broom cupboard," Harry said.

"My goodness, it's a broom," Ginny said in mock surprise.

"Yes, oddly enough, they use the broom cupboards at Hogwarts to store brooms."

"More's the pity," she said, shaking her head.

"Want to ride with me? No Bludgers to watch for, no Quaffles to throw around."

"Won't that be a bit boring - having no distractions?" she asked, as she climbed in front of him. The racing broom was not built for two and they were wedged tightly together.

"Um . . . I don't think distractions are going to be a problem at all," he answered in a strained voice.

"You smell nice - like lilacs."

"That is the very masculine smell of dragon polish."

She giggled - and then shrieked - as they went straight up into the blue sky with little warning. Harry held her tightly around the waist and used his other hand to steer. They skimmed over the Forbidden Forest, turned in a tight curve, and dipped by each dragon stationed at the four corners of Hogwarts. Suddenly the world was an uncomplicated one of white snow, blue sky and the red of Ginny's hair.

The rings on the Pitch glittered like gold. He wove through all three at high speed, with barely a hand span of space to spare on either side of them. Finally, he slowed down and meandered over the frozen lake, where he let the Firebolt drift into a lazy circle, steering with his knees. He wanted both hands free . . .

The sun was sending streaks of red, pink, violet and gold over the Forbidden Forest when Ginny sighed and said, "That was the least boring broom ride I've ever been on."

He sighed back. "That was the best broom ride I've ever been on."

They walked slowly back to the castle, not wanting their time together to end. They stopped just outside the door for one last kiss. Her eyes glowed warmly brown in the dusky light. Flying is beautiful, Harry thought, and so is she . . .

*

They stole away for several more broom rides in between Ginny's study schedule and McGonagall's make-work projects. Many students returned before the official end of the holidays, fearing an attack on the Hogwarts Express. McGonagall found work for them too.

Ron ended up with Madam Hooch, organizing and sorting fifty years of Quidditch supplies. He was finding all sorts of interesting things. "You should have seen the uniforms the Hufflepuff's used to wear - they must have looked like giant lemon sherbet candies."

Hermione was helping the Ravenclaws in the library, having the time of her life - until the last day of the break. Harry was waiting alone by the fire in the common room when Hermione entered, a dazed expression on her face.

"What?" he asked.

She rubbed her forehead and sat down. "Terry Boot just asked me out - to sit with him at the Slytherin-Ravenclaw match."

His heart sank. Ron was not going to take this well. "Um, what did you say?"

She spread her hands helplessly. "I didn't know what to say. I mean, why would he ask me out?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe he likes you and thinks you're pretty and wants to spend some time with you."

She frowned. "I don't see how that can be - I mean there are loads of pretty girls in Ravenclaw."

"Yes," Harry said, thinking about Cho and Padma Patil. "But there aren't any girls in Ravenclaw who look like you."

She bit her lip, doubt written all over her face.

"There are all types of pretty," he continued. "Why can't you be the kind of pretty Terry Boot likes?"

She clasped her hands. "I don't know. I mean - I was always the smart one - with the teeth - not the pretty one. It makes me feel - self-conscious."

"Would you feel the same way if someone else - not Terry Boot - thought you were attractive?" Harry asked carefully, hoping there was a chance for Ron.

"I don't know," Hermione said, a question in her eyes. "I suppose it would depend on who he was."

Harry practically had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from saying Ron's name.

Hermione sat in thoughtful silence and then said in a decisive voice, "Well, I'm going to accept. It will be interesting. Terry and Michael and Anthony all know loads about Quidditch. And it's not like one date makes a relationship or anything. It will be a good experience."

"Hermione - just remember Terry Boot might have different - um - expectations - than you. Maybe you might want to make it clear you just want to go as friends," Harry said, thinking he could have used this advice last year.

She cocked her head. "Yes, that's a good idea. That's what I'll tell him." Then she laughed. "I never pictured you as the type to give out relationship advice."

He laughed and shook his head. "That's all I have and it was painfully won."

*

That evening Harry had another Apparition lesson. For the first time he Disapparated from one building and Apparated into another. He also had another destination point to find, with Hestia Jones, a member of the Order, in charge of moving the third Chocolate Frog card. He repeatedly traversed a triangular route from Lupin to Tonks to Hestia Jones until he had reached the farthest goal they had set for him.

Professor Lupin was pleased. "You're increasing your distance and your accuracy, Harry," he said handing him a butterbeer. The two of them were sitting on rickety chairs in a small circle of light, the small pile of Chocolate Frogs at their feet. Harry thought they were in the same warehouse where he had his first lesson but he couldn't be sure.

"Yeah, it doesn't seem so . . . " Harry searched for the right word. "Unnatural. I mean, I don't have to think about it so much."

"That's a good sign." Lupin took a swig of his butterbeer and leaned back in the squeaky chair so it balanced on two legs.

"Whoops!" Tonks Apparated inches from Lupin's head, startling him and upsetting his balance. Tonks had the presence of mind to grab the chair before he fell backward. Harry pulled Lupin forward by the arm and together they righted him. "How's that for pin-point accuracy?" Tonks said cheerfully, her hands still on Lupin's shoulders. "If Remus had been sitting in his chair properly, I could have made my graceful entrance."

Lupin only smiled. "I'm just glad you didn't try the lap drop."

Tonks laughed and staggered into the empty chair next to Lupin. "Right. That broke the chair and you were talking funny for a week."

Lupin winced in remembrance and handed her a butter beer. When Tonks crossed her legs toward Lupin, Harry noticed her trainers for the first time. They were bright red high-tops with rubber soles at least four inches thick.

Tonks noticed the direction of his gaze. "Aren't these brilliant? Christmas present from Remus. Of course I can't walk in them properly - not that I mind. I'm willing to suffer for beauty."

"Why do I have to suffer for your beauty when you fall into me?" Lupin inquired.

She waved that away. "You like to catch me - makes you feel useful." She grinned at him and moved closer, her shoulder touching his. Then she addressed Harry. "Men like that - to feel useful."

Before Harry could reply to this, she continued, "You're coming along remarkably well, Harry. It must be from that other work you're doing with Professor Dumbledore. What is the charm again?"

"The Chrysalis Charm."

"Oh, yes." She nodded, suddenly serious. "I remember reading about it - the incantation is quite profound. What is it?"

"Amor Fati."

"Love of fate," Tonks repeated, gazing at him steadily. "How do you feel about that?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He didn't know how he felt about it, because he didn't understand it. And he was afraid to know in some ways. "I don't know what it means - really."

He looked hopefully at Lupin.

Lupin sighed and put his butterbeer on the floor. "Well, Harry let's start with a definition of fate. What do you think it is?"

"Um, what happens to you?" Then he remembered what Bill had said. "Like everyone's fate is death."

"That's true," Lupin conceded. "But then that's rather a silly incantation - Love of Death."

Harry breathed a little easier. That was what he had been afraid of.

"It's also everyone's fate to live," Lupin continued. "So perhaps this phrase is highlighting that as well."

"Love of Life," Harry murmured. That seemed simple enough.

"All of life," Lupin emphasized. "The joys and the suffering too."

Tonks was listening with a grave, almost sad expression.

"But you can't love suffering," Harry protested. Was he supposed to love those detentions he had with Umbridge last year? Or his time spent with the Dursleys?

"No," Lupin said wearily, staring into the darkness. "But suffering is part of life - and you can either look at it unblinkingly - or you can deny it." Then he held Harry's gaze. "But if you do deny it - then you are running away from life - not loving it."

Lupin's words, delivered in his patient, calm voice, lingered in their quiet circle.

Harry looked at the lined face of his former professor. Here was someone who had suffered so much - whose suffering was as inexorable as the path of the moon - talking about loving his life. All his friends from Hogwarts were gone. It was unfathomable to Harry how he could bear it . . .

Then Tonks put her head on his shoulder and gently enfolded Lupin's hand in both of hers. It was a womanly gesture, sympathetic and sweet - and it moved Harry almost to tears. For suddenly he was fiercely glad for Lupin - that life, which had been so cruel in the past - had now given him a different answer. . .

Lupin grazed the top of her hair with his chin, and closed his eyes.

Looking away, Harry focused on the Chocolate Frogs and thought of the cards Ginny had made for him. Life's sweetest gifts, he thought, his heart impossibly full.

The silence was broken when Lupin cleared his throat and said, "That's what love of fate means to me, Harry."

Harry nodded. "I understand." And he did.

Back to index


Chapter 14: Sensitive

A/N I want to thank everyone who has been reading this story and letting me know about it, either in reviews or e-mails (or both). I know that many of you reviewing, especially here at SIYE, are also writers. I hope to return the favor of reading and reviewing your work once my son is back in school. Jo Wickanninish, my beta, allows me to update so quickly because she has been working hard all summer keeping up with me. Thank you! And thanks to Nic 83 who told me about personal ads in Britain - even though she doesn't need to know such a thing!

Chapter 13: Sensitive

Ron somehow heard that Hermione was going to the Quidditch match with Terry Boot. He didn't speak of it with Harry, but it was all too obvious that he was unhappy. As they waited for the Friday Defense Against the Dark Arts class, he skirted around the subject

.

"Do you know why Hermione is suddenly so interested in Quidditch?" Ron asked.

Harry thought it might have something to do with Ron - but he didn't want to get his hopes up.

"At first I thought it was because of Viktor Krum," Ron said, "but now I don't know." He stared at Hermione who was standing and talking with a group of Ravenclaws on the other side of the Great Hall.

Harry shrugged and looked at his watch. It appeared the teacher was late today. The students were taking advantage of the free time, milling around and socializing.

Ernie MacMillan made his way to Ron and Harry and asked in a low voice, "I heard some elves Apparated in to Hogwarts with Draco Malfoy - is that true?"

"How did you know?" Harry asked.

"Our house-elf is related to several of the elves here," Ernie replied. "I don't know how they communicate with each other, but he knew Christmas night."

Ron and Harry exchanged glances. They weren't sure how much to tell Ernie.

"Um, what did your elf say? I mean, was your elf surprised?"

"Shocked, I'd say," Ernie frowned. "Seemed to think that there was some elf who had gone bad at Hogwarts, but he wouldn't say anything else. You know how strange they can be sometimes."

"Did he bang his head into a wall or iron his fingers or anything?" Harry asked.

Ernie smiled. "No, Sandy doesn't have a guilty conscience."

Neville strolled over. "Did you hear that Snape is offering extra-credit for anyone who can come up with a new dissolving agent?"

"Neville, we'd have to care about our marks to know that kind of news," Ron replied. "What's he want to dissolve - some of that grease in his hair?"

They all laughed - Neville the loudest. "I don't know, but this should save my marks in Potions." He held up a beaker of orange liquid. "This is the sap my plant produces when it hic-cups. Remember? It ate a hole right through the green house."

Ernie stared at it, fascinated. "Why didn't it eat a hole through that beaker?"

"I put an Imperturbable Charm on it," Neville said proudly. "I can do those this year!"

That charm reminded Harry of the clear resin Malfoy had poured on the corridor floor. That was probably the reason for Snape's interest in dissolving agents.

A shout of laughter drew their attention to the group of Ravenclaws. They were drawing lines in the air with their wands. Every now and then an equation would drift by with flashing numbers. "What are they doing?" Ron asked with a disgusted look.

"They're working out the trajectories of the Summoning Charm, the Vanishing Charm, and the Levitation Charm," Ernie replied, rolling his eyes. "The Ravenclaws dare to ask: Which is more efficient? Which is less dangerous to the user and those around them? They've been working on it since fourth year - although with Hermione's help, they may finally get their answer."

Sure enough, Hermione was with them, her face alight with concentration as she took her wand and rearranged the wispy numbers in one of the floating equations. Instantly, the lines quivered and then reformed, making a perfect triangle. There were more cheers from the group. Hermione laughed and blushed.

"Why wasn't she put in Ravenclaw?" Ernie mused. "She's smarter than all of them put together."

"Because there's more to Hermione than her intelligence," Ron snapped.

Ernie looked with alarm at Ron's scowl. "I know that - she's a very good Prefect as well."

"And she's very kind," Neville spoke up.

Ron pressed his lips together and took a deep breath. Harry could tell his control was stretched thin. "Come on, Ron," Harry said, "let's find out that thing from . . . you know . . ."

Ron frowned at Harry, but allowed himself to be steered to the opposite end of the Hall where the Slytherins were gathered. Theodore Nott was leaning against the wall, arms folded,his habitually bored expression in place.

"Potter, Weasley," he acknowledged them with a nod. "What brings you to our end of the Hall?"

"Just mingling, Nott," Ron said sarcastically. "Thought I'd run for Minister someday. Never know when I'll need the snake vote." Harry inwardly groaned; he didn't want a fight with Nott.

Far from being insulted, Theodore Nott was amused. "You have mine, Weasley. We need some er- plain speakers- in politics."

Ron ran his hand through his hair. "Sorry. Um - how's your knee?"

"Fine."

Ron nodded and then restlessly paced, finally turning to watch the Ravenclaws again.

Theodore Nott watched Ron pace and said to Harry, "Did you know Pansy Parkinson didn't come back?"

"Excellent," Harry answered. Ginny would never have to deal with her again. "Where is she?"

"Beauxbatons."

"Troll school all filled up?" Ron asked, on his return trip, still not taking his eyes away from the Ravenclaws.

That surprised a rusty laugh out of Nott. "You're a witty bloke, Weasley - no wonder Draco hates you."

Ron smirked and continued with his pacing.

"Did uh . . ." Harry wondered how much he should say. "Did Dumbledore talk to you?"

Nott gave Harry a long stare. "He did. Thanks to you, I know the head of my house is playing some dangerous games."

"So are you." Ron had stopped his pacing in front of Nott.

"That's why Snape is going to adopt me," Nott answered, straight-faced.

Ron laughed and shook his head. "You're a funny bloke, Nott - no wonder Malfoy hates you."

Nott smiled sardonically. "Yeah, and which one of us going to have the last laugh?"

"We're going to laugh together," Ron said firmly.

"At Malfoy," Harry added.

"May he freeze his skinny ferret arse off at Durmstrang," Nott vowed.

Ten minutes before the end of class, Professor McGonagall strode into the Great Hall with a set face. She magically amplified her voice and addressed them all. "You may have noticed that you lacked a teacher for this class." There were scattered titters from around the room. "Unfortunately all the Aurors were busy today because of several Dementor attacks here in Britain."

Horrified gasps and furious whispering began. McGonagall held up her hand for silence. "These attacks were minor, in that no one was injured or killed - in fact - several of the Dementors were conjured decoys. The Aurors are investigating all of these incidents and will be busy for the next few weeks. The Ministry is sending trained security wizards to work with you next Friday. That is all."

Theodore Nott crossed his arms and smiled slightly. "So that's the Dark Lord's tactic - he's using these attacks to ask questions - like how does the Ministry respond to Dementor attacks? How secure is Hogwarts? Do the students know how to defend themselves?"

Ron frowned. "What do you think his next question will be?"

Nott raised one eyebrow. "Well I don't think it will be who will win the Slytherin-Ravenclaw match."

*

Harry went with Ginny to the Slytherin-Ravenclaw match. It was their first chance to spend more than the lunch hour together since the holidays. All the fifth years were looking tired and stressed, Ginny included. She needed a break and he needed to be with her, so his mood was as good as the weather when they finally found a seat together in the stands.

The only cloud was Ron. Although he had made a supreme effort not to show his jealousy around Hermione, Harry could tell he was seething on the inside. Hermione had been acting strangely as well. She was choosing her words carefully and watching Ron when he wasn't looking. Harry felt as if he was in the middle of an electrical storm, with the tension crackling all around him.

"Can I sit with you two?" Ron asked. Harry was surprised to see him. He thought maybe he would stay away from Hermione's date.

"Sure," Ginny said, "sit on the other side of me. Then I'll be extra warm." She snuggled close to Harry. "Are you ok?" she asked Ron. "You look a bit peaky."

"I'm ok," he answered shortly.

Harry didn't think he would be able to pay much attention to the match between Ron's brooding and Ginny's distracting wiggles.

Michael Corner's smooth voice announced the Ravenclaw team. When Cho Chang flew out, Ginny sat up straight and paid attention. "So what do you think?" she asked. "Which Seeker is going to win this one? They both have inexperienced Chasers, so it's going to come down to their Seekers."

"Well," Ron began, "Cho has been Seeker for what? Three years now? She has the experience."

Ginny looked at Harry. "What do you think?"

"Oh, I don't know." He was watching the match. "Campbell is a good flier. And he really seems to want it badly enough to take some risks. It's hard to say."

"What if I told you that I've heard from reliable sources that Campbell's fancied Cho the entire time he's been at Hogwarts. Would that make a difference?"

"How would you know that?" Ron asked. "And I thought she was going out with Corner."

"They're having difficulties from what I hear."

"For someone who doesn't like gossip, you certainly know a lot of it," Ron chided.

"I can't help it if I hear things," Ginny retorted. "So what do you think - if she turns on the old charm, will Campbell get distracted?"

"Depends on how big of a git he is," Ron said. "A pretty face shouldn't make you lose a Quidditch match."

Harry could feel Ginny watching him. He wasn't sure what Ginny was driving at, but he knew darn well it wasn't Quidditch strategies. "I don't think Campbell is going to lose his head over her." Then he smiled. " It's not the Slytherin thing to do. Just think what Phineas would say."

Ginny smiled then too and seemed to relax a little. Then she watched Cho fly for a while. "She is really pretty."

"Yeah," Harry said, not really thinking about Cho because he was watching the action around the Slytherin Keeper.

"You think so, do you?" Her voice was sharp. Harry realized instantly that he had said the wrong thing. He glanced at Ron who was also aware of Harry's gaffe.

Harry actually thought he could explain his point. "Ginny - of course I think she's pretty. Just because things didn't work out with her, doesn't mean she suddenly turned into a troll."

"Oh." She moved toward Ron. "I see."

He looked at Ron in appeal. Ron gave him the you're-on-your-own-mate look. Harry tried again. "Ginny there are loads of pretty girls in the world - just because I notice them doesn't mean I fancy them."

Ginny looked doubtful.

Ron sighed, and then he too jumped in. "Ginny you're not being fair to Harry. Why should he be any different than Fred or George or Seamus or Neville or any other red-blooded male? That's the way we are. Blokes notice if a girl is attractive or not - but it doesn't mean anything."

Harry was really glad that Ron didn't throw in the part about imagining them naked - no need for full disclosure.

"Ok," Ron continued. "Do you still think Michael Corner is cute?"

"No," Ginny said resolutely, " I don't. He was cute when I liked him - now he's not."

"So that's how these blokes with the ugly mugs get the girls," Ron marveled. "You cast the I-Like-Them Charm and they suddenly turn cute. Well there's hope for me then."

"Oh Ron, you're cute. There are loads of girls at Hogwarts who think so."

"Thanks for that vote of confidence from my sister. I'll ask Mum next."

Ginny giggled. "All her sons are handsome because they look like Dad."

"Right." Ron smiled. "So will you give Harry a break? He likes you and not her - ok?"

"Ok." She looked apologetically at Harry. He smiled back - he could understand how she felt - he was just surprised that she could be as insecure as he was . . .

She moved to Harry's side and sighed. Looking at her brother she said, "Ron? You need to ask her out."

"Who?"

"Hermione, you dolt." Ginny rubbed up against Harry and wearily put her head on his shoulder.

"We're just friends, Ginny."

"She's here with Terry as just friends."

"How do you know?"

"Hermione told me," Ginny said, closing her eyes. "They're going as just friends."

"Oh." Ron pretended to watch the match, hope dawning on his face. When the Slytherin team called a time-out he turned to Harry. "Did you know about Hermione?"

"What about Hermione?" he asked absently. Ginny's hair smelled so nice . . .

"That she was going with Terry Boot as just friends?"

"Oh!" He turned to Ron who was looking flustered. "Yeah, I knew."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Ron demanded.

"Because you didn't ask - you haven't said one word about Hermione's date." He shook his head. "I'm not going to be some message board for the two of you. You have problems - you talk to her."

"Thanks a lot Harry," Ron said, standing up.

"Weasley! Sit down!" The spectators from behind were not happy with over six feet of Ron blocking their view.

He glanced at them indifferently and said to Harry, "Glad I can count on you as my best mate when I really need some help." Then he stalked off, his ears as red as his Gryffindor scarf.

Harry's heart sank. Two Weasleys miffed at him in one day. That must be a record. Ginny hadn't moved during the entire exchange; her head was still on his shoulder. Then she patted him on the chest. "You were right."

"About what?"

"Not being a go-between for Ron and Hermione - they have to work it out themselves."

He sighed in relief - at least Ginny understood.

"Ron finally knows his own mind," Ginny continued. "But he doesn't know what to do about it - so he's getting snappish."

He put his arms around her. Nobody noticed them because something was happening at the other end of the Pitch and everyone was standing and staring.

"You Weasleys . . . "

She moved even closer, tucking her head under his chin.

"Penalty to Slytherin!"

She was curled cozily against him, so relaxed she didn't bother to see what was happening on the Pitch.

"Ginny?"

She was fast asleep. Harry realized he would have to listen to the rest of the match, since the crowd was on its feet most of the time. Not that he minded, really - at least they were together.

He frowned at the thought of Ginny's unexpected jealousy of Cho. Ginny should know that he never felt about Cho the way he felt about her. But how would she know that? he thought. Since he was rubbish at compliments, all she knew was that he thought her better looking than Pansy Parkinson and the giant squid. He inwardly cringed; he would have to do better.

Since he couldn't see the Pitch, he could at least watch the spectators. Sitting in the neutral section with the Gryffindors and the Hufflepuffs, were Theodore Nott and Luna Lovegood. Nott had his green Slytherin scarf tied around his neck and Luna had her blue Ravenclaw scarf tied on top of her head in an elaborate tuft. They were sitting next to each other, but Harry couldn't be sure if it was by accident or design.

The breeze blew an errant lock of Luna's hair on to Theodore Nott's shoulder. Nott stared at the soft blond tendril a minute before returning his attention to the Pitch. It stayed there for the rest of the match.

When the match was over Ginny was still asleep.

"Harry, you win the prize for being the most pathetic date," Seamus said as he filed past them. Dean was with him, smirking as well.

"Shhh . . She's really tired."

"Really, I thought she was just bored," Dean said.

"If you two wake her up, I'll hex you in your sleep," Harry warned. "When you wake up you'll be able to part your hair when you sneeze."

Seamus held up his hands. "We're leaving - for a big teddy bear you're sure touchy."

Harry's eyes narrowed.

"I never thought of you as a cuddler, Harry." Dean giggled and hustled Seamus away.

Harry was left thinking that no one made fun of Roger Davies for snogging all over the place. Really, life wasn't fair.

Ten minutes later she stirred and opened her eyes. "How long have I been asleep?" she asked, looking at the empty stands

.

"Not that long. Campbell caught the Snitch shortly after you dozed off. It was just as well, since neither of their Chasers could score any points. Gryffindor is still in the lead for the cup."

"Is Ron still angry?" she asked, sitting up straight.

"I haven't seen him. He could be rowing with Hermione for all I know."

Ginny shook her head at that possibility.

"Ginny, you're not still thinking about Cho are you? I mean, it's not going to come up again is it?"

Ginny brushed her hair back from her eyes. "Oh, Harry. Ron was right. I wasn't being fair to you. It's not like you're leering at every girl that passes by. I know that." She took his hand. "And it's not that you think she's pretty exactly - it's that everybody thinks she's pretty. It's just her - she's so perfect - and - I'm so - not perfect.

"

"I know that feeling. I've felt like that about certain people - like I'd never measure up."

"Who?"

"Cedric Diggory." It was still hard to say that name. "Just think how much worse you'd feel if you were jealous of someone and then they were killed right in front of you."

She squeezed his hand and murmured, "I didn't know."

"The worst part is, I almost gave into the jealousy and took the cup for myself. But then I changed my mind and offered to be in a tie with him." Harry could still feel those conflicting emotions. He stared at her. "If I had given into the jealousy - Cedric would still be alive today - and Cho wouldn't be looking for him in every boy she dates."

"Is that why she's so flirty?" Ginny eyes softened.

Until he said it, Harry had never realized that about Cho. "I really don't know her very well - but - yeah, I think so."

"That's so sad," she said softly.

"You should feel sorry for her, not feel jealous."

"I do feel bad for her now - and Michael. He's a nice person too."

"Relationships don't always work out for people," he said, feeling a lurch of fear, not wanting to contemplate such a thing happening to them.

"I know," she whispered, putting her arms around his neck.

"What are we going to do about Ron and Hermione?"

"Nothing," Ginny said firmly. "Just be there to listen." She shook her finger. "All of you blokes think you have to solve everything - don't try. Just listen."

"That sounds . . ." he began doubtfully.

"Sensitive? Feminine?"

"Yeah, that's it. I don't want any part of that."

She giggled. "That's a shame because you're such a good cuddler."

*

Harry was able to show his sensitive side later on that evening when Hermione cornered him in the common room. Ron was off sulking somewhere and Ginny was celebrating Jeanne's birthday with Rose and Diane. Harry had been invited, but he thought it best for Ginny to have some time alone with her friends.

He decided to spend his free time polishing his Firebolt. Whenever he did this, his thoughts turned to Sirius. At first they had been painful thoughts, but now, instead of dwelling on the past, he found himself telling Sirius what was going on in his life. It was like writing a mental letter that he didn't expect an answer to.

He was in the middle of telling Sirius about Ron's outburst when Hermione sat next to him on the settee. She watched him silently for a moment. "Is that the broomstick servicing kit I got you?"

"Yeah, it is. I've had a lot of use for it."

"That's good," she said absently. She sighed.

Harry kept polishing. He knew she couldn't stay quiet for long.

"Ron around?"

"I haven't seen him since the match."

"He wasn't at supper," she observed in a neutral voice.

"Wasn't he? I ate with Ginny." Then he thought of something. "Who did you eat with?"

"Terry and some other Ravenclaws."

"Oh." He knew she was expecting it, so he finally asked, "Had a good time on your date?" He was inspecting the bristles now.

"Yes. No."

He stole a look at her. She looked so miserable and forlorn. Sighing, he realized that he was going to have to listen and be . . . sensitive. He wondered if it was possible to listen ruggedly.

"Can you be more specific?"

Hermione was rearranging the tubes and clippers and brushes in his servicing kit. "I don't know . . . The match was so short, that I couldn't just leave right after - like I wanted to. So we went for a walk around the lake. Then we were debating a point about Arithimancy, so we went to the library." She looked sharply at him.

He was able to keep a straight face because he pushed aside all thoughts of what Ron would say to such a confession. "And?" he asked hastily.

"And we found the answer."

"Who was right?"

She grinned. "I was." Then the light went out of her eyes. "By then it was time for supper. I couldn't find an excuse not to go - so I went."

Harry held the broom out so it floated at waist level. It seemed to be listing to the left . . . "Doesn't sound so bad," he said heartily, hoping he had heard the worst.

He hadn't.

"It wasn't - until he walked me back here."

"Oh?" He stole another look. She was blushing now.

"He wanted to kiss me," she blurted out.

This Harry really didn't want to hear. "Oh."

"But I didn't - kiss him," Hermione said quickly.

He knew he shouldn't ask, but he did anyway. "How did you know he wanted to kiss you?"

She blushed even harder and looked down. "He kept looking at my mouth. And saying how pretty he thought I was and smart and . . . things like that."

Harry didn't know whom he was more embarrassed for: Terry for being so transparent, or for himself, since he had probably been just as obvious when he walked Ginny back to Mrs. Figg's house last summer.

"Um - you don't have to answer this, but why didn't you kiss him?"

"I don't know!" Hermione practically wailed. "On parchment we look like the ideal couple. I mean, Terry is really intelligent and is interested in all the things I like. He even knows a lot about house-elves. We spent hours together and didn't have one argument - and he didn't mind one bit when I was right about Arthimancy." She stared at the Firebolt hovering in mid-air. "I really tried to like him, like that . . ." She shuddered. "But when it came to actually kissing him . . . I just couldn't do it."

Harry could only think, Poor Terry - and poor Hermione. "Well that's all right. You said yourself that one date doesn't make a relationship."

"But now I have to see him all the time!" Hermione said, anguish in her voice. "I knew I shouldn't have gone. That's the problem with dating someone in this school - if it doesn't work out. That's why I never-" She checked herself and looked wide-eyed at him.

Harry clipped a few bristles on the right side of the broom. He had a pretty good idea that Hermione was going to say something about Ron, and he didn't want to scare her off.

"Anyway." Hermione fiddled with the latch on the box. "Thanks for listening."

He couldn't believe she was going to leave it like this. "Hermione, what are you going to do?"

She smiled and stood up. "Nothing. I won't go out with him again - but I'll be friends. It will be awkward at first, but . . ." She looked at his broom. "It's still favoring the left side."

It was. Harry went back to clipping bristles, wondering how on earth Hermione could have gotten any comfort or help out of their conversation. Ginny would be proud of me, he thought, sensitive male that I am. Then he added with a shake of his head, Sensitive male who doesn't have a clue.

*

Ron was reading a Quidditch magazine alone in the dormitory when Harry went up for bed. He hoped they were still speaking.

"What did you think of the match today?" he asked in a carefully casual voice.

Ron lowered the magazine and said stiffly, "I didn't see the end - I went to see Norbert. Although I heard Campbell made a great catch."

"I didn't see it either - Ginny was sleeping on me."

Ron seemed to thaw at this. "Yeah, she can fall asleep in the middle of anything when she's tired. Always was like that."

"Look, I didn't tell you about Hermione because -"

Ron held up his hand. "It's all right. You don't have to say anything else. I talked it over with Norbert." He smiled ruefully. "I think I know what I'm going to do."

"Good." Harry relaxed, knowing he didn't have to ask Ron what his plans were. He was done being sensitive for the day. "Is that a new issue of Quidditch Illustrated?

"Yeah, Charlie subscribes."

They were discussing the new Keeper for England when Seamus and Dean came in.

Seamus sat on the edge of Harry's bed and said solemnly, "Harry, I'm having problems and I need advice."

"Get off my bed."

"But-"

"Harry, Seamus needs a hug," Dean chided.

"Seamus is going to need Madam Pomfrey and a team of Healers if he doesn't get off of my bed."

"I thought you were one of those sensitive males you read about in the personal ads," Seamus whined. He picked up the Quidditch magazine and flipped to the back. "You know: Single, white male, loves long walks in the rain, sunsets, warm hugs and lively conversation. If interested in this cuddly Leo, send reply to Box 12 Sweetums Street."

Harry didn't spare him a glance when he flicked his wand.

"Seamus, I like your hair parted in the middle." Dean gasped out once he stopped laughing so hard.

"Harry, change my nose back!" Seamus shouted nasally.

"Sorry, I have to take a long walk in the rain." He got up to leave.

"Ron, you're a Prefect - help me out here!" Every time Seamus spoke his hair lifted a bit.

"That fifth year Prefect could help you," Ron pointed out. "She wouldn't laugh too much."

"Ron!"

Harry sighed and changed the nose back. "You're lucky I have a sense of humor, Seamus. Best put that in the ad."

"How about this one for Seamus," Dean said. "Single, white male, desperate for attention, loves when a girl doesn't go to the other side of the corridor to avoid him. If interested in charity work, send reply to Box 69 Loser Lane."

Seamus lobbed a pillow at Dean. Harry caught Seamus from behind with Ron's pillow.

When Neville arrived five minutes later, he observed them for a few moments, and then asked, "Are we having a lot more pillow fights this year? Or is it just me?"

Back to index


Chapter 15: Light and Shadow

A/N Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish for the beta read and to Julu who assured me this chapter wasn't too long.

Chapter 14: Light and Shadow

With all of the Ron and Hermione drama of the weekend, Harry had forgotten that he was to have another lesson with Dumbldore on Monday evening. He hadn't done the Charm since his Quidditch injury in November and he wondered if that would adversely affect him.

Hedwig didn't seem worried about her training; however, she was ruffling her feathers and practically clucking with joy when she saw their destination. Harry suddenly wondered what kind of owl treats Dumbledore had in his office.

"Harry," Dumbledore greeted him pleasantly from the pool of light around his desk. "I see Hedwig is ready for the next lesson. Are you?"

"Yes, sir. It's been a while though." He looked around wondering why Dumbledore's office was so dim. He couldn't even see the portraits on the walls.

Dumbledore nodded, the low light reflecting off of his glasses. "Time doesn't affect the ability to do this charm." He motioned to Hedwig, who flew to his hand, her feathers glowing white against the darkness. "I dimmed the lights for Hedwig."

"Right." He was glad he could hide his sudden anxiety. Taking a calming breath, he recited, "Amor Fati." Immediately he felt the familiar twisting in his chest.

The pain was the only thing familiar, however, because this time he saw a blindingly bright light. At first he thought his entire field of vision was taken up by that light, but now he could see that it had edges.

The edges were dancing particles of silver and gold light. Closer to the middle, these particles slowed and then stopped. In the heart of all this movement was a thin shaft of white light that was so still it looked like a column supporting a ceiling. But he couldn't see a ceiling. All this particle movement was making him feel a little nauseous, so he turned his back on the light and rested his eyes on the shadow he had just made.

How could he make a shadow? He was supposed to be dissolved.

If the light was unfamiliar - the shadows weren't- because the first thing he saw was a man who looked like Vernon Dursley; his eyes bulging, fist raised, standing over a terrified boy with green eyes. Harry was horrified. The boy was tiny and the man was big.

Then something strange happened. The boy became angry. He stomped his foot, he clenched his fists, he yelled, and he grew with each violent action. Soon he was bigger than the man. Harry was afraid of him too-even if he was a boy he could do some damage. The man put his hands up in defense, and then he knelt and put his forehead to the ground. Curled on the ground he became a small ball, ready for the boy to kick.

Before Harry could stop the boy, he saw a man who looked like Snape. His hooked nose flared, his dark eyes burned with fury. He was holding a bottle of liquid, ready to force it down the throat of . . . the same boy with green eyes. With one drop, the boy shrunk to a pinpoint of black.

Harry couldn't imagine what had been in that horrible potion. Snape stared at the tiny dot that was the boy. Then the dot started to expand ominously. Out of it came the head, then the torso, then the legs of a man with glasses and . . . a wand. Suddenly Snape was hanging upside down, his eyes wide with fear, then he too began to melt: first his legs, then his torso, then his head, until he was a black point.

The shadows began to shimmer and move, cloaking the scene. Harry strained to see what else was there in the void. Because there was something there . . .

A huge black snake slithered out of the darkness, unspooling itself languidly. Harry watched it with dread, hoping it wouldn't come near him. He should turn around and run, but he was frozen there, watching the mesmerizing power of the snake. Somehow he knew what it was like to be so strong and heavy-to have the muscles and energy to coil and glide only stopping to . . . spear and tear with the mouth.

The snake rose up with an angry hiss, its open mouth inches from his face. Terrified, he looked into the maw where the absolute darkness threatened to pull him under. He was going to be eaten by Death.

He could stop the Charm; he could run away - but he knew he must see this through. He was afraid of the velvet blackness - it was unknown - it would suffocate - it would obliterate - he would be gone.

Gone . . . But . . . if he were gone, then his fear would be gone, and his anger would be gone, and there would be no shadow . . .

With eyes closed, he let himself fall into the mouth . . .

The instant he let go, he was caught. Something gripped him on each shoulder. It felt like . . . bird claws. They lifted him up, up - out of the shadows. He knew this strength as well; it was the hollow-boned energy of flying. Breathing again, gulping huge lungfuls of sweet air, he felt light speed through his body, heightening every sense.

"Harry?" Harry heard his name from a distance. He was surprised to find himself on his knees in Dumbledore's office. Its dim light looked bright compared to the shadows he had seen. Hedwig was circling overhead hooting with excitement. "Harry?" the voice repeated.

"I'm all right," he answered. He felt like he had been speared in the chest with a broomstick again. But he was more worried about what he had seen and what he had decided. He had let himself fall . . .

"What did you see?" Dumbledore asked, as he helped him into a chair. Your chrysalis changed from green to white."

"A lot of light. And - " he hesitated, " shadows."

"Where did you spend your time?" Dumbledore asked.

"In the shadows," Harry admitted. He felt as if he had done something wrong; like he had something to feel guilty about. "I saw angry people and fearful people - and a snake."

"Did you recognize those people?"

"Yes, one of them was me."

"Were you the fearful person or the angry person?"

"Both." He clenched his hands and released them. He wished he knew what this meant, but he was afraid to know. It was as if he realized what a terrible person he was - deep down.

"And the angry person always got bigger and the fearful person always got smaller," he blurted out. "Why?"

"Let me start with the shadow itself," Dumbledore replied settling himself behind the desk. Harry was relieved he left the lights down. "When you are walking around in the daytime, your body casts a shadow. That is well and good - that is the nature of the body - since it is solid."

Dumbledore took out his wand and conjured a glass of water. "Drink this."

Harry took a sip-it was cold and seemed so clean . . .

"Fear and anger preserve the body, don't they?" Dumbledore asked rhetorically. "When you are afraid of something, you sensibly take steps to protect yourself."

Harry thought of how the victims all made themselves too small to hurt.

"When you are angry for a harm done," Dumbledore continued, " you become strong enough to hurt or kill that which is harmful."

That was true, the little boy kept the man who looked like Vernon Dursley from hurting him. Harry breathed a little easier; it all sounded so . . . logical.

"What did you notice on the other side of the shadows?"

He was perplexed; there was nothing else but the shadows and the light. "Um. I dunno - the light?"

"Would you say the light was the opposite of the dark?"

That seemed easy enough. "Yes."

"So what is the opposite of fear?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Courage."

"What pulled you away from the snake? I know something did, otherwise your chrysalis would not have changed."

Harry clutched his glass. "I don't know; it felt like a bird."

"The snake's opposite," Dumbledore stated.

"But - what called the bird?" Harry asked, mystified. "I mean, I just decided to fall into the snake's mouth - because I had to. And then the bird picked me up."

"Were you afraid when you decided to fall?"

He thought back. "Not right then. No," he said slowly. "I thought that if I went to the darkness there would be no me left, and then there would be no fear left."

"Ah." Dumbledore sat back in his chair and actually smiled at Harry. "What called the bird? You did. The bird and the snake. Courage and fear. The light and the dark. They are all you. You don't go anywhere else but inside of yourself when you do the Chrysalis Charm."

Harry slumped in his chair. This was a lot to take in - and it had been so terrifyingly real. Dumbledore was just talking about it like he had just found out Harry's heart rate or some other medical fact.

"This has been quite a leap for you, Harry - and for Hedwig as well. You went outside the ground of Hogwarts today. I'm very pleased with both of you." Hedwig hooted and flew to Harry's shoulder.

Dumbledore's praise meant a lot, but it couldn't erase what he had seen . . . the truth about himself.

"I offered Hedwig a treat, but I'm afraid I can't offer you any. My Healer has forbidden me sweets. I'm afraid this shadow is getting old." He smiled ruefully.

"That's ok," Harry said, putting the empty glass on the desk. "I'm not very hungry."

"Don't worry about what you saw and felt in the Charm, Harry. It is neutral territory and quite safe. No one can access it but you and those you love - and only if you let them."

He nodded, his mind swimming with discordant images and thoughts. Maybe a walk to the Owlry would help him sort them all out.

*

Harry left a tired Hedwig in the Owlry and began his trip back to Gryffindor Tower. He took a corridor he seldom used to lengthen his walk so he could think. He was still shaken by the anger and fear he had seen in his Chrysalis - but mainly he was afraid of the snake, and how he gave in to it, only to be saved by a bird. This was a terrible omen if he was going to defeat Voldemort - it wasn't as if a random bird was going to show up and rescue him.

He sighed and kept walking. A commotion in one of the paintings drew his attention. A monk, a chevalier, a woodsman, and a hunter were playing cards. The half-empty flagon of wine on the table explained their loud voices. Harry idly peeked at the monk's cards; he had -

"Blimey!" Harry exclaimed. He had never seen four aces in one hand before.

The monk shot Harry a venomous look over his shoulder, and the rest of the card players narrowed their eyes in suspicion.

"Scurvy Knave!" the chevalier shouted, standing and over-turning the table.

"Sir, you protest too much," the monk said with dignity. "These cards were deemed mine by holy providence. Is it so difficult for you to accept your hand?"

"I don't understand, " the woodsman said, staring at the cards in his hand. "How can he have four aces when I have an ace? Did they add more cards?"

The hunter was looking mournfully at the broken flagon of wine. "The old monk is cheat'n - he is. Think a man of the cloth could do better."

Harry continued walking. Even the portraits had their bad traits. Somewhere in the back of his mind he had been kidding himself, he realized. Ever since he had heard that Voldemort had put a part of himself in Harry, he had subconcsiously reasoned that any bad thing he did must be a direct consequence of Voldemort - not his own nature. Now he could see that he was wrong.

A red light coming from an outside window caught his eye. From this part of the castle he could clearly see the lake and the commotion Norbert was causing. It looked as if the dragon had broken free and had finally gone for the giant squid. There was a dark gash in the ice that was clearly visible from the red light of at least twenty wands being used to subdue Norbert.

Harry sighed. It didn't seem to be the night for good behavior.

*

Norbert was in disgrace. He had been moved to the far North corner of the grounds, so it wasn't as easy to visit him. As Harry, Ron and Hermione went to their Care of Magical Creatures class a week later, they still weren't used to seeing the Swedish Short-Snout in Norbert's spot.

"Do you think they'll let him come back?" Ron asked as they hiked to class through the muddy snow.

"Well, they shouldn't," Hermione answered, sniffing. She had a cold and had been short-tempered all day.

Harry's heart sank. For some reason, he was starting to equate himself with Norbert. If Norbert couldn't be forgiven for what was in his nature, how could he?

"That's a hard-hearted thing to say," Ron said vehemently.

Hermione stopped, shifting the heavy spell books she had been lugging on to her hip.

"Norbert is off his food." Ron was getting more agitated. "He knows he's done wrong."

"But that doesn't-" she began.

"Can't you be a little understanding? Or don't you ever change your opinion?" He turned away in exasperation.

The silence was punctuated by the raspy breath of the Swedish Short-Snout.

"I can change my opinion," she said in a small voice. She looked pathetic standing there in muddy path, with dark smudges under her eyes and a red nose.

The line of Ron's back relaxed as he took a deep breath and looked up at the gray sky. He abruptly turned around and took the spell books out of Hermione's hands. "Come on," he said quietly, "we're going to be late for class."

Surprisingly, Hagrid was on Hermione's side about Norbert. He told them that after class. "It was wrong o' me ter put him so close ter the squid. It's the nature of 'em Ridgebacks." He heaved a deep sigh. "Jus' can't change nature I guess."

Harry had never seen Hagrid look so disappointed.

"But he's still a good dragon, he is," he added fiercely. "Right smart. That blue dragon is all looks - no brains."

Ron nodded at Hagrid's last comment. He turned to Hermione. "Do you want to visit Norbert with me? We can leave your books with Hagrid."

"Ok," she added sounding more cheerful than she had all day.

But Harry was feeling worse than ever as he trudged back to the castle by himself. Would he be able to overcome his own nature? Ever since he had seen the shadows, he felt as they were looming over him, threatening to suffocate him. Those shadows were every bit as terrifying as the lethifolds Hagrid had been describing in today's lesson. The living shroud from the tropics could at least be subdued by a Patronus charm. Harry could do a Patronus, but not against himself.

He was jolted out of these dark thoughts by the sight of Ginny standing in the muddy path. Her red hair and her warm eyes did more to brighten the day than if the sun had suddenly decided to show itself. He hurried to her side, happy for this unexpected meeting.

"I've been waiting for you," she remarked, arms crossed in front of her. "Everything ok with Hagrid?"

"Yeah. We were just talking about Norbert." He looked at his watch. "Aren't you supposed to be at study group?"

"Skiving off," Ginny said breezily as she took his arm. "You've been moping around for a week, and I decided it was time we got to the bottom of it."

Harry didn't know if he was glad or annoyed by such a pronouncement. He really didn't want to spend stolen time with Ginny talking about his problems, yet he was tired of being depressed and second-guessing himself.

"Ginny, your mum is going to kill you if you have anymore detentions."

She rolled her eyes. "It's all taken care of. I have Fred and George's Snackbox and Rose is the best liar in the group. She'll report the sad news of my sudden illness."

"I'll have to remember that about Rose," Harry said, amused at their plan. "But if McGonagall sees you out on the grounds, she'll know you're not sick."

"We're not going out on the grounds. It's Madam Pomfrey's clinic day, so she won't be able to see me right away. We're going to wait on the bench outside of the infirmary. That will give us at least an hour. I'll chew on a fever pustule right before I go in," she said, walking briskly up the hill. "Besides I look tired enough to be sick."

"You look just right," he said.

She stopped, the business-like determination slipping off of her face. "Your timing is getting better." Then she smiled mischievously. "The compliment was a bit vague, but there were no comparisons to marine animals - so that's good."

"I've been practicing," he said, his heart lighter than it had been all week. "In front of a mirror. Did you know I have beautiful eyes?"

"I did know that." She laughed. "I'm surprised you do. I don't think you've ever looked in a mirror."

"Yearly visit is all I can take."

*

Like any of Fred and George's plans, Ginny's worked just as expected. Madam Pomfrey, harassed by the crowd of third years waiting for their dragon pox immunizations, ordered Ginny to a bench in the deserted corridor.

"Don't let Madam Pomfrey see that smug smile," he warned.

"There's nothing better than a well-executed plan," Ginny said in a satisfied voice. Then she grew serious. "Unless it's seeing you happy again. So what's going on?"

Harry thought he would prefer a draught of Madam Pomfrey's dragon pox vaccine, rather than admitting to Ginny his own weaknesses. Stalling, he looked up and down the corridor at the stone walls and the torches in their brackets. Then he glanced at her. There was something in her expression that reminded him of that day they had spent together wallpapering - that she was his friend first and foremost.

Encouraged, he told her about what he had seen in the shadows. When he finished, Ginny immediately prompted, "So what was the light all about?"

"The light?" he asked in disbelief. He had just told her all these awful things and she was interested in the light? "I don't know. I didn't think to ask."

"Well, Dumbledore said all of it was you, so why not focus on the light instead of the shadows for now?" This was so reasonable; Harry couldn't believe he hadn't thought of it himself. Maybe he had been focusing too much on the negative.

A third year, her face covered with pink and purple dots, passed in front of them.

She frowned. "Didn't Hermione say she had read about that charm? Why don't we ask her once Madam Pomfrey gives me my fever potion?"

"Well . . . ok . . ." He couldn't quite believe that Ginny was taking this so lightly. It had been bothering him for days. Maybe he hadn't explained it very well.

Ginny noted his confusion. "Harry, do you think you're the only person in the world who has ever felt that way? I have a terrible temper, remember? I don't like it either - and I try to control it. But -" She paused. "You have to get over this idea that you have to be perfect."

Another third year, a boy this time, staggered by, clutching his stomach.

"I know." He felt silly, but he had to say it. "Still- I'm just afraid I have to be perfect if I'm going to defeat Voldemort."

She held his gaze for a moment. "What's-His-Name is not perfect - he's not even perfectly evil when you get right down to it. He's made a lot of mistakes - the biggest one being underestimating you."

She was silent, letting this sink in a minute. Then she patted him on the knee. "If you were perfect I couldn't hang around with you anymore - you wouldn't put up with me skiving off from studying, or getting jealous for no reason. You just being you is pretty formidable."

"I'm formidable, now am I?" he asked smiling a little. "I reckon that's better than sensitive."

"Poor Seamus - he still needs a hug," Ginny said laughing.

"How did you hear about that?"

"Ron-I'd like to see the Reversed Nostril Hex some time."

"It's not pretty."

"Neither are those poor third years," Ginny whispered. "At least the spots only last a few hours."

Her breath was tickling his ear. How he longed to turn his head and catch her lips with his own . . .

"Ginny? Harry? Are you ill?" Luna Lovegood was staring at them.

"Oh!" Harry stammered, "Ginny was just feeling off-color. We're waiting for the clinic to end."

Luna sat down. "I am too."

He studied her. Luna was always pale, but she didn't look ill. Yet Harry couldn't imagine Luna skiving off from anything. She would just drift away . . .

"Are you ok?" Ginny asked.

"Yes, I'm enjoying my time helping Madam Pomfrey," she said dreamily.

Harry couldn't imagine anyone remotely enjoying the infirmary. This thought was reinforced by the sight of a forlorn third year girl, valiantly wiping the tears from her polka-dotted face.

"I think I want to be a Healer," Luna said. "I used to think I'd be a journalist like Daddy, especially when I saw the impact your interview had on Theodore-"

"Wait." Harry interrupted her. "Theodore Nott?"

She nodded.

"What kind of impact?"

"It helped him make up his mind," Luna said simply. "When he read it last spring he came to me and asked me if it was true or not." Her eyes narrowed. "As if Daddy would publish anything that wasn't true!"

Ginny cleared her throat. Harry avoided her glance; he didn't want to hurt Luna's feelings by laughing.

"What part - I mean what was it that changed his mind?"

"Oh, I don't think he changed his mind at all," Luna answered, as if that was the question. "He told me that he was keeping his options open and that he wanted to make sure he picked the winning side."

Now that sounded like the Slytherin thing to do, Harry thought.

"Of course, that's not what he meant at all," Luna continued. "It was the fact that your wand was as powerful as the You Know Who's - that's what impressed him and gave him some hope, I think."

Ginny nudged his shoulder at this.

"He doesn't really know which is the winning side - none of us do - he just knows which is the right side." Luna's voice rang with conviction. "Once his father was in prison, it was safe for him to chose openly."

Another group of spotted third years passed by.

Harry thought about how Luna was capable of believing the most outlandish things - even that Theodore Nott was an idealist of the first order. Still, he was glad that someone believed in Nott - he certainly didn't have anyone else.

"Theodore doesn't think I should be a journalist," Luna added chattily, as she cast a clinical eye on a third year boy with beads of sweat on his forehead. "He doesn't think I'm tough enough." She jumped to her feet in a smooth motion and caught the pox spotted boy before his head hit the floor. "But somehow, he thought I would have a knack for healing." She was loosening the boy's tie.

"I reckon he was right," Ginny observed.

The boy moaned and Luna made soft noises as she took his pulse.

"Should I get Madam Pomfrey?" Harry asked; it looked like the boy was going to be sick.

"Yes, please," Luna said serenely as the boy began to retch.

Harry hurried into the infirmary.

"Allergic reaction," Madam Pomfrey said. Then she shot rapid-fire instructions to Luna. Only when the boy had been taken to a bed did Harry notice Ginny's pale face. "Hey are you ok? You look a little green."

"Don't say green."

"Puce, then."

"Harry!" She closed her eyes and leaned back. "I could never be a Healer." Even though Madam Pomfrey had used the Vanishing Charm, the smell still lingered. "Bodily fluids should stay in the body," Ginny declared.

He laughed. "I don't think the body is designed that way."

She grinned weakly. "I suppose."

Luna returned, looking flushed and happy. "Madam Pomfrey said I could ask what's wrong with you, Ginny. If you don't mind telling me."

"Oh, Luna, I'm skiving off study group. I really needed to talk to Harry," Ginny confessed. "But I got my punishment. Now I feel sick after seeing that boy. . . "

"That's what I thought you were doing!" Harry had never seen Luna so enthusiastic. "Madam Pomfrey said I was a good diagnostician."

"What are you going to tell her?" Ginny asked anxiously.

Luna cocked her head. "Um . . . how about generalized study anxiety exacerbated by the monthly menses?"

It took a Harry a minute to translate . . . Then his face burned. Girl stuff and feelings were bad enough, but this was worse . . .

"Sounds good," Ginny said without a trace of embarrassment. "What's the remedy?"

"Rest," Luna said, vaguely waving a hand. "This afternoon and after supper. No evening study hall."

"Brilliant," Ginny said. Then she added, "You might not be tough enough to be a journalist - but it takes a different kind of tough to be a Healer."

Luna beamed at this praise.

"I think you have it, Luna."

Luna's smile was full of mystery. "That's what Theodore said."

*

They found Hermione studying in the common room with a box of tissues at her elbow. Harry suddenly wondered how Hermione would handle having Luna as her Healer.

"Hermione, we need to ask you something about this charm Harry is doing," Ginny said, sitting across the table from her.

Harry sat next to Ginny and waited for Hermione to refocus her attention. "What do you need to know?"

"The light," Ginny answered before Harry could say anything. "What's the light-the dancing particles of light and the beam of light?"

Hermione looked at Harry in amazement. "You saw that?"

He nodded, more worried than ever.

"Then you must be at the white stage."

"Yeah."

"Wow." She was silent for a moment. "I took the book back to the library, but from what I remember, the white stage is quite advanced. There's only the red stage left."

Harry didn't know that. It hadn't occurred to him that there was a goal beyond having Hedwig Apparate with him.

Hermione frowned. "Do you remember the bell-jar we saw in the Department of Mysteries?" Harry nodded. That was the one Ginny had been so interested in.

"That was time. The light was dancing, wasn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry said, "that's what it looked like." Then he remembered where else he had seen that dancing light. "And that's what it looked like in the cauldron when Voldemort had his re-birthing." He could barely look at that either.

Hermione looked startled at this information, but she continued. "The light that moves is light within time-because, well, time never stops-does it?"

They nodded. This made sense.

"The light that is still," Hermione continued, "is well - not time."

"Not time? What does that mean?"

"It's light outside of time." She was struggling with her words.

"How can anything be outside of time?" Harry asked impatiently-this was heading into Luna Lovegood territory.

Hermione seemed to think so too, because she didn't speak in her usual confident tones. "Some people call it eternity. It's like a force . . . and when it comes into the world, it creates . . . "

Harry remembered what Dumbledore had said about the force behind the locked door in the Department of Mysteries.

"You mean it's like . . . " he hesitated as well.

"Love," Ginny said. "It's the thing that never dies, isn't it?"

Hermione nodded and said softly, " That's one way to put it. And it's inside of everyone if they could just see it."

"The same light," Harry said.

"I think so," Hermione answered. Then she asked, "You must have seen shadows too?"

"Yeah, is that - you know, normal?"

"According to the book, some people are too frightened to even look there. That's why very few ever get to the red stage." She looked at Harry sympathetically. "Was it awful?"

"Yeah."

"But the book said that if you can see the shadows, then you are on your way to utilizing them."

"What do you mean?"

She shrugged. "I'm not sure - I suppose it's the idea that weaknesses can be strengths as well. The only other thing I remember reading is that there was one known case where the charm was wrapped around two people."

"Two people? Why would anyone do that?"

She shook her head. "I don't know - the book didn't give any details." Then she looked at her watch. "I'm supposed to be supervising study hall with Ron. I have to go. We'll talk later, Harry."

When Hermione had left, Ginny turned to him. "What do think is the medical term for your mind being stretched and then snapped back again?"

"A headache."

She laughed and took his hand under the table. "I know the perfect remedy for that, but it's not allowed in the common room."

"I take it you don't mean rest."

She smiled. "No."

"We'll find the time to be together," Harry said, the longing evident in his voice. "And we won't waste it talking about me."

"I like talking about you." She smiled. "You're always so interesting." She wrapped her foot around his leg.

"That's good to know," he said as calmly as he could.

"And I like being with you."

Harry never realized he had that many nerve endings in his leg. "That's good to know too."

"There's one thing we haven't talked about today, though."

He tried to pull his mind away from the activity under the table. "What's that?"

"Valentine's Day - we have to plan," she said impishly.

Whether it was the bad memories from several Valentine's days, or the sudden gleam in her eye, Harry couldn't tell if that was a threat or a promise.

Back to index


Chapter 16: Valentine's Day

A/N: Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish for beta reading and hairy_hen for reading the R/Hr section. (That story line is dedicated to Nic83, the most loyal R/Hr fan, who will slog through an H/G story to find them.) This chapter is for fluff lovers (both H/G and R/Hr) everywhere!

Chapter 15: Valentines Day

Ginny didn't have a chance to threaten or promise anything concerning Valentine's Day until a few days later at lunch.

"Since we can't go to Hogsmeade next Saturday, what do you say we plan our own Valentine's Day?" she asked, pushing her empty bowl out to the way.

"What do you have in mind?" he asked warily - visions of something either pink or sensitive or both, dancing through his mind.

She frowned in thought. "Well, no gifts for one."

"Really?" He was disappointed. Now that it occurred to him to buy Ginny something for Valentine's Day - he realized he really wanted to give her something.

"Really. I have no money - and it's not supposed to be a materialistic holiday anyway."

"I thought all holidays were materialistic."

"That's a cynical thing to say. You haven't been hanging around Phineas have you?"

He laughed. "Ok - what do you want then?"

"Time," she answered promptly. "A nice uninterrupted stretch of time to spend with you."

"Does it have to be on the fourteenth?"

"No-"

"That's good because I never know off-hand if I have a lesson with Dumbledore or Lupin." He took his homework planner out of his backpack. "Don't tell Ron, but I actually use this thing this year. All my extra lessons are scheduled so randomly that I can never remember . . . " He leafed through the pages. Ginny took hers out as well.

"Thirteenth?"

"No - Quidditch practice."

"Oh yeah. Twelfth?"

They spent a few more minutes trying to reconcile their schedules.

"This isn't working," Harry said. "Let's have Hermione figure it out - if anyone can find us some time - she can."

Hermione and Ron were chatting amicably, their empty dishes at their elbows. Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry's filled in homework planner but didn't say anything.

Placing their calendars for February side-by-side, Hermione waved her wand and gave each a tap. Only one box was circled on each page.

"Looks like Friday next, which is Valentine's Day, is the only day you can both have an afternoon off." Hermione looked expectantly at Ginny. "And that's if Ginny agrees to give up her Days of Destiny Fiftieth Anniversary Special."

Ginny looked pained, but quickly nodded.

Harry felt bad for her: she was missing the event of the winter for him. He supposed he could volunteer to listen to it with her - and all the females of Hogwarts - but it sounded so . . .

"You're not missing a thing, Ginny," Ron said. "It will just be a bunch of scenes from the old shows. You already know the story line. And then people floo in and ask stupid questions like what is Roderick's Patronus? When - if they have been listening with even half a brain - they'd know it was a peregrine falcon."

They stared at Ron.

He shrugged and turned a bit red. "Mum listened to that show every day. I know enough to do the fiftieth anniversary special."

Ginny was laughing. "And when is Roderick's birthday?"

"June twenty-first, the Summer Solstice," Ron answered promptly.

"And Fiona's?"

"June tenth. They're both Gemini's. Twin soul mates or some such rubbish," Ron said impatiently. "Why can I remember this stuff when I can't remember some stupid goblin rebellion for History of Magic?"

"Maybe you're an auditory learner," Hermione spoke up, studying him closely. "Some people are more visual and can remember things when they see them on the page of a book, other people better remember what they hear."

Ron shook his head. "Maybe - or I have a mind for useless facts."

"I don't think all the facts you know are useless," Hermione said. "Until I started studying it, I didn't realize how much you know about Quidditch." Then she added in a matter-of-fact tone, "You know more about Quidditch than anyone I know - and that includes all the statisticians in Ravenclaw."

This was as close as Hermione ever came to mentioning Terry Boot in Ron's presence.

Ron went white and then red, as if he were overcome by some very strong emotion. Then he turned his attention to his knapsack. They all watched him rummage around, since this was such unusual behavior for Ron.

He finally pulled out his homework planner. Opening it, he laid it on the table facing Hermione. "Can you help me find some time?"

She stared at the blank pages of the open planner. "For what?"

"A date for Valentine's Day."

She looked up quickly - all the color drained out of her face. "Oh - what about the other - um - person's schedule?"

"You have your homework planner with you, don't you?"

"Yes," she answered weakly.

"All right then."

As Hermione dug into her satchel with shaking hands, Harry studied Ron. He looked neither elated nor embarrassed - just determined.

Hermione's planner was filled to the brim with her tiny handwriting. Next to Ron's it looked incongruously full.

After staring at the two planners, she said in a halting voice, "It looks like we're both free for the Hogsmeade trip."

"Excellent," Ron said briskly. "Will you write that in my homework planner for me?"

Hermione again searched her bag. She pulled out a bottle of ink and a quill, hesitated for a moment and then wrote in her tiny, precise script: Date with Hermione for Valentine's Day. Since the entire planner was blank except for that one entry, it might as well have been in six-inch block letters. She stared at it for a moment and then slid it across the table to Ron.

He looked at it and nodded. "Now I'll write in yours, so you don't forget." He lifted her planner in one hand, and found the box for the Saturday of the Hogsmeade visit. Then he took the quill and wrote deliberately, in his large scrawl: Date with Ron for Valentine's Day.

Ginny looked at her watch. "I've got to go - McGonagall's class. Thanks for your help, Hermione." She smiled at Harry, her eyes dancing with repressed excitement and then she rushed to join Jeanne and Rose exiting at the door.

Hermione slowly closed her homework planner and gathered her ink and quill. Harry turned to leave, when he heard Hermione ask Ron, "Are we . . . um . . . going to Hogsmeade as . . . friends?"

He knew he shouldn't, but he couldn't resist waiting to hear Ron's answer.

"No," he said firmly.

Hermione blushed. "Oh . . .ok." Then she grabbed her knapsack and hurried off to Arithmancy class.

They both watched her leave and then they walked slowly toward Herbology class. Harry broke the silence. "Glad you found some use for your homework planner."

Ron laughed, a note of relief in his voice. "Knew that would come in handy sometime."

*

Harry was not the only one at Hogwarts looking forward to the Friday of Valentine's Day. Professor Flitwick again proved himself the most popular teacher when he canceled class so his overworked fifth years could listen to the entire four hour Days of Destiny special. This meant Ginny had even more time for their afternoon together.

The Ministry also canceled the sixth year Defense Against the Dark Arts class for "undisclosed reasons." Ron was disgusted. "You'd think it was the World Cup or something," he said that day at breakfast. "And what are we blokes supposed to do? The common room will be full of girls eating crisps and ohing and ahing over that show. And Merlin help the first person who laughs at one of those stupid love scenes."

"I know what you mean," Seamus said. "This is an unsafe time to be male. You don't know what to do - between Valentine's Day and this show . . ."

Harry thought he had a point. Even though Ginny told him not to buy her a gift, he still wasn't sure if that was the right thing to do. And he was puzzled as to how they were going to spend the afternoon at Hogwarts and have any kind of privacy. Of course his idea of romance could be very different from Ginny's: maybe she didn't think spending the afternoon snogging was very romantic. He certainly wanted to get this Valentine's Day right after last year . . .

As was so often the case, his worries about Ginny turned out to be unfounded. He met her in the common room, threading his way past groups of girls settling in to listen to the Wizarding Wireless. Diane, Rose and Jeanne were gathered around a huge bowl of popcorn. Apparently white food was allowed every fifty years, or . . .. He shuddered to think of the reasoning behind a Days of Destiny eat-a-thon.

Ginny was bundled up for a hike outdoors. He was not thrilled with a four-hour hike around the grounds, but was willing to do whatever she had planned. Somewhere under all the layers he might find her face to kiss her once or twice.

"So what are we doing?" he asked once they were in the courtyard. It was not the most auspicious day for a walk: the sky was heavy with dark clouds, and it was cold enough to snow.

"We're going to see Norbert," Ginny said through the scarf covering her mouth.

"Oh." He pulled his hat down over his ears and tried not to look too disappointed since he wasn't wearing a scarf over his face.

Her eyes sparkled with laughter. "And then we're going to the dragon handler's hut next to Norbert."

"Charlie going to be there?"

"No - just you and me."

His spirits rose. "How do you know no one will be there?"

"Because Charlie told me that they're training the Welsh Green today, and they wouldn't be around to any of the other dragons until feeding time at six o'clock."

He stopped. "You know for someone who's been mummified, you're brilliant."

"Did you know Fiona was mummified once?" she said. Then she added something about exfoliation, but Harry couldn't be sure.

The path to Norbert was icy from the repeated thawing and freezing. It took them fifteen minutes to reach the hut. Harry noted this because he wanted to return by the time Days of Destiny was over. Somehow he didn't think McGonagall would approve of them making use of an empty dragon handler's hut.

Norbert was sleeping when they arrived, his body wrapped around the tiny building. They jumped over his tail to open the door. Just as Ginny had predicted, it was deserted. Even without a fire, Norbert's body heat made it pleasantly cozy.

It was smaller than the one Harry had been in with Charlie when he opened his Howler; there was one settee, a table with chairs around it, and some tea-making things.

Harry wasn't sure it was Ginny once the layers came off because she was dressed from head to toe in . . . pink. The color was bad enough, but the shiny hearts all over her jumper hurt his eyes.

"So what do you think of my special Valentine's outfit?" Ginny asked.

He stalled by slowly taking off his cloak and folding it carefully. "Um-"

"That's what I thought," she said with a giggle. Then she took out her wand and waved it around herself. Her jeans and jumper turned a familiar blue. "You really are terrified of Valentine's Day, aren't you?"

"With good reason," he said dryly. "All you girls go mad and everything is decorated with pink."

"And what's so wrong with pink?" Ginny asked folding her cloak over a chair.

He really didn't know what was wrong with pink, except it was so very . . . pink. "I dunno," he shrugged. Then he remembered what he had brought for Ginny. "I bought you some chocolates by Owl Post."

Ginny took the heart-shaped box and said with delight, "You weren't supposed to buy me anything."

"I thought that if I ate some too, then they wouldn't technically be a gift."

"Wow," she said, opening the box. "Let's look at all the different kinds."

So they sat at the table and read all the descriptions from the box lid. They decided that unlike Bertie Botts Every Flavor Beans, there really wasn't such a thing as a bad piece of chocolate.

"You know, Professor Lupin says chocolate will raise the spirits," Harry commented, feeling pretty happy himself.

"And so does Diane," Ginny added as if that settled the matter. She went to the window. "Hey it's snowing." Sure enough, Norbert's tail was fast becoming white; it was snowing faster than it could melt.

"Think it will wake him up?" he asked, peering out the window with her.

"I wouldn't think so, look how quiet everything is when it snows. And no one is tearing around on a broom today."

"I thought a broom ride would be fun - but this is much better," he said putting his arms around her waist. "You're good at planning."

She turned into the circle of his arms. "One of us has to be," she answered smiling. "But you're good at other things." She ran her hands over his chest to his shoulders.

As far as compliments went, that had to be one of the most unexpected. And it was strangely exiciting to think that she was just as attracted to him as he was to her. He bent to kiss away that provocative smile.

The next time he looked it was a dreamy smile, which probably matched his own. "Our holiday planner provided a settee."

"Excellent," she breathed. "You must do something to reward her."

"I'll think of something," he said, backing into the settee and pulling her on top of him.

He decided that maybe Valentine's Day wasn't so bad, especially if you were tucked away next to the flank of a friendly dragon with someone special . . .

*

"Have you decided your holiday planner's reward?" she asked a while later.

"Was I supposed to be thinking?" He sat up, not letting her go.

"What's on your mind?" she asked, nipping gently on his ear.

"Nothing but you," he said in all honesty.

"That's not very interesting," Ginny said pulling away a bit, her hands still on his shoulders. "I want to know what you think will happen with Ron and Hermione tomorrow."

"They will go to Hogsmeade," he predicted. "Ron will get up enough nerve to hold her hand on the way."

"So far, so good," Ginny said. "But do you think this will be the start of something - or the end?"

He trailed his fingers along her arm. "Well the start of something is always the end of something else, isn't it?"

She patted his cheek. "That is very true. Maybe that's why people don't like to start something new. Do you think that's what took Ron so long?"

"No, I don't." He hadn't really thought about it until that moment, but he knew it was true. "I think Ron was just waiting for the right time - for Hermione to be ready for him - not the other way around."

She slid off of his lap to sit facing him on the settee, her legs crossed in front of her, a curious expression on her face. "What about that row after the Yule Ball? Wasn't Hermione ready then?"

"I don't know." He could still see Hermione's angry face and her hair falling down around her face. "Maybe on some level. But I think this will be different . . . more serious."

"Yeah, it's not just about Hermione proving a point that she's an attractive girl."

"I think Ron has figured that out now," he said, catching her hand and opening it, idly tracing each finger.

"And I think Hermione has figured out that physical attraction does matter - at least a little bit," Ginny added, watching his finger caress her hand.

"What do you mean?"

"You have to stop doing that, I can't think properly." She closed her hand over his, but didn't let go. "I heard about her date with Terry Boot," she explained. "She liked him as a friend. She thought that's how she felt about Ron - so Terry Boot was kind of a trial run. Except when it came time for kissing, she realized that she felt nothing for him that way."

"So do you think she feels that way about Ron?"

Ginny smirked at him. "What do you think?"

Maybe that's what all that electricity between them had been about this week. "I just hope Ron is as good at planning as you are."

"Oh, I don't think what they do is that important. It's more that they're together and having a good time - that's what's romantic," She shifted so she was backed against the arm of the settee, her legs stretched out on his lap.

"So what's your idea of romantic?" He really wanted to know, especially when it came time for him to plan something for her.

"Well, unlike your hero, Roger Davies, it's really not romantic to snog all over the place. Especially with a different girl each time."

He couldn't keep a straight face. "I'm sure he's sincerely in love each time."

"Right," she scoffed. "I'll tell you something I saw a few days ago that I thought was romantic - but nothing really happened."

This should be interesting, since Harry knew there were no Bedouin princesses or superwizards at Hogwarts.

"All of us fifth years were coming out of study group. The Ravenclaw girls in Luna's dormitory aren't very nice to her - or to anyone else, for that matter. I don't know how Luna puts up with them."

"They steal her stuff," Harry remembered.

"Yeah - they do." She looked startled that he knew that but continued. "They were giving Luna a hard time about not being a true Ravenclaw since she wasn't sitting with them at the Sytherin-Ravenclaw match."

"What did she do?"

"You know Luna, she just kept walking down the corridor. I followed them because I thought they were going to do something. There were three of them and only one of her."

"And you were going to take them all on?" he asked amused.

"Of course," she said stoutly. "Sure enough - they were about half-way to Ravenclaw tower and Ursula - she's the tall girl with the dark hair?"

Harry shook his head. He didn't know all the Gryffindors - he had no idea about the Ravenclaws.

"Ursula grabbed Luna's wand from behind her ear, and told her that she was making Ravenclaw a laughing stock by dressing the way she does. Then Nina told her she should have been sorted in Hufflepuff if she was going to befriend all of the houses. And the way she said "befriend" had another meaning." Her eyes flashed. "The last one, I don't remember her name - pretended to knock all of the books out of Luna's hands and then told her she didn't need them anyway if she was going to act like that - "

He could feel himself getting angry for Luna, just hearing about it.

"I started down the corridor at that point - but guess who beat me to it?"

"Theodore Nott."

"Yup, there he was - Prefect badge and all. He said something like, 'If you crows only want ten points apiece and a detention leave now.' Ursula stood up to him and said, 'We're Ravenclaws, not crows.' So Nott just smirked at her and said he was being polite, that there was another word that began with 'c' if they preferred that. That shut them all up. Then he told them to go peck at someone else."

Harry let out a long breath; somehow he didn't think Theodore Nott was going to forget this incident.

"So he helped Luna pick up all her books and then he told her to report them to Flitwick. But you know Luna. She just said, 'Oh they're so much nicer this year. They haven't taken one thing of mine.'"

Ginny was marveling at Luna's obtuseness as well. "So do you know what he did? He took her wand and put it behind her ear and said, 'You're not really real are you?'. And Luna said, 'I'm as real as a Crumpled-Horned Snorcack.'"

She giggled. "Of course he laughed too. Then he said something like 'And just as rare.' Then Luna smiled at him and went on her way to Ravenclaw Tower."

Harry was glad that Luna had someone stand up for her, even when she didn't think she needed it. But it didn't sound . . . "Ok, I'm a bit dense, but why is that romantic?"

"Dense - that's a good word," Ginny retorted. "Because he likes her for the way she is - when not too many people like her for that reason. Maybe it's not romantic, but it's certainly . . ." She smiled at him.

He knew his cue. "Sweet," he said heavily. Poor Theodore Nott, there would be no hope for him after being branded sweet. He couldn't stay his snarky Slytherin self if that word ever leaked out.

"Why do you look like you just swallowed poison?"

"Because all of this sweetness is getting to me. Let's make some tea."

The strong tea was the perfect accompaniment to more chocolate. They had polished off the entire box, when Ginny looked out the window again. "The snow is really getting deep." It was so hushed they couldn't even hear Norbert snoring anymore, although he was still there, the outline of his back now frosted in melting white.

Harry looked at his watch. They still had an hour left. "Days of Destiny must be reaching its exciting conclusion."

"Yeah, he must have sprung her from Lord Lyle's clutches by now," she said elbows on the table, a speculative look on her face. "I wonder how he did it, if he couldn't Apparate into Lord Lyle's stronghold."

"I'm sure it wasn't with house-elves. Believe me, Draco Malfoy hardly looked heroic showing up with six elves that barely came up to his knee."

"Draco Malfoy couldn't look heroic if he was riding a dragon with a flaming sword in his hand, he's just so . . ."

"Ferret-like," Harry finished for her.

"Exactly. Anyway, its conclusion should be something really special - before they're separated again."

This is was what irritated him about that show. "Why do they have to be separated? I mean, I know that's what keeps people listening in, but I don't get why that is so great. You'd think they'd fight harder to stay together."

"I know," Ginny answered. "I asked Mum about that once. You know, her life is a complete opposite of that show - and you know what she said?"

"What?"

"She said she liked it because they always chose each other all over again - no matter what." Ginny laughed ruefully. "I was going through the back chat stage so I said - 'that's fine when your choice is to go to exotic locations and have adventures but not when you're stuck at home.' Mum was doing the ironing, and she kept interrupting the conversation to yell at Fred and George."

Ginny's expression softened. "Then she looked at me and said, but that's what marriage is - to choose that person everyday - no matter what."

She was quiet for a moment and then she grinned and added, "Then something exploded and she had to put Fred's eyebrows back on. I think that was the day Dad brought the car home."

Harry grinned too. High romance and adventure didn't really seem to fit the Burrow - yet that life seemed infinitely better . . .. "I think your mum is just as much of a heroine as Fiona."

Ginny smiled back. "I think so too. What should they call Mum and Dad's show?"

"Weeks of Weasleys?"

"Years of Yearning - for some peace and quiet?"

"Minutes of Mayhem?"

"More like Months of Mayhem."

"What do you think they're doing now - for Valentine's Day?" He wondered what people who had been married for so long did on a holiday like this.

She looked surprised. "I don't know. I don't ever remember them making a big event out of Valentine's Day - although maybe I missed a few signals. I think Dad brought Mum some Muggle chocolates once - I don't think she got any since we swarmed around them as soon as he set them on the table."

"Well, I hope it's something nice."

"I do too." She got up and put her arms around him from behind. "As nice as the afternoon we've spent together."

Since that wasn't a very good position to reciprocate, he stood up too. "Why does time go by so fast when I'm with you?" he asked between kisses.

"Don't know - but we should probably go."

They reluctantly broke away from each other and bundled up for the walk back to the castle. Ginny picked up the empty red heart.

"Aren't you going to throw that in the rubbish?" he asked.

"No," she said defiantly, "your holiday planner gets her reward."

He was touched that she wanted it. "That's not much of a reward - an empty box."

"I can put all my treasures in it - besides, it's a heart."

It was snowing so hard; it was difficult to see. Once they stepped over Norbert's tail, they could tell it would take more than fifteen minutes to wade through the drifts. We need a way to blaze a trail, Harry thought. Then the word "blaze," made him think of something. "Ginny!" he shouted so she could hear him through her layers. "We have to wake up Norbert so he can melt a path for us."

She nodded, but if she said anything he didn't catch it. Now that they had to wake a sleeping dragon, he wondered how they could do it. Since Norbert was so used to them, just their presence wouldn't alert him to danger. And he really didn't want the dragon to think them dangerous - since they were fond of their limbs.

First they tried shouting and then Harry climbed up Norbert's slippery back to yell into his ear, but to no avail. Finally, he thought of food. Maybe enough chocolate scent was left in the box. They put it under his nose and after a few sniffs, he opened one eye. "Norbert! We need you to burn us a path! Please?"

It seemed silly to think that Norbert could understand them, but he slowly rose and stretched like a cat, making great furrows in the snow. Harry pushed Ginny into the doorway of the hut, just in case Norbert wasn't careful where he stepped. Then he finally turned and let out a great jet of blue flame. It was a narrow, long, and burned a straight trail as far as they could see. "Thanks, Norbert," Harry said, patting him on his scalely side. They ran along the dripping path, which was starting to freeze solid in the cold.

Outside of the courtyard, they slowed down. Norbert's range couldn't go this far, so they had to do some path breaking. It was hard work, but strangely exhilarating, to be the first people through the pristine landscape. They were covered from head-to-toe in snow when they finally arrived.

It was their bad luck that Filch was at the entrance. But he didn't notice that they were dripping all over his clean floor. All his attention was focused on the foul green fungus coating the inside of the cloakroom. His growls about house-elves and infestations told them something was wrong at Hogwarts - yet again.

Back to index


Chapter 17: Coming of Age

A/N: JKR intially named Voldemort's followers the Knights of Walpurgis. (Thanks to Barbara the Wallpaper-er on the SQ forums for explaining what Walpurgis was all about.) The verse Nott recites is from Goethe's Faust. (Don't get all impressed - I'm not that intellectual. I Googled "Walpurgis" and stumbled on this verse where the witches describe Walpurgis Night.)

A warning: the last section of this chapter does contain a sexual "situation," although I think it is well within the PG-13 rating. Feel free to skip it. (Although it took me days to write it and I really want to know how plausible it seems.) More thanks all around: first to Jo Wickaninnish for being such a great beta. Thanks also to Julu, hairy_hen, and Nic83 who read the purple prose at the end and gave me lots to think about. Thanks also to Ima Quidditch Fan who reminded me of the "one- foot-on-the-floor" version of The Talk in her review.

Chapter 16: Coming of Age

Harry didn't find out about the green fungus the next morning at breakfast because Hermione was nowhere around to ask. But Ginny was up uncharacteristically early. "I won't be around when you leave for Hogsmeade, Ron. I hope you and Hermione have a good time," Ginny said.

"We're going to Hogsmeade, not on a broom trip around the world."

"What's that about every journey beginning with one step?" Ginny asked, her eyes shining.

"I don't know," Ron began irritably, "it's probably some line from your favorite show - which is no more, by the way."

She sobered. "I heard. The actor who plays Roderick is retiring," she explained for Harry's benefit. "So instead of finding a new Roderick, they're doing a spin-off, Days of Destiny: The Next Generation. It will be about Roderick and Fiona's daughter, Blaise."

As always, he was confused about that show. "I thought Blaise was a boy's name."

"It is traditionally, but at the end of the show when Fiona announced her pregnancy, Roderick said that since she had blazed a trail across his heart, they would name their first child that."

Ron looked nauseous and Harry thought his eggs and bacon didn't look so appetizing. Ginny nodded. "I know. That's really bad. I reckon this is as good a time as any to swear off soaps. I will be a Days of Destiny purist and let it die a good death, right there."

"There will be a re-birth, don't worry," Ron predicted. "They aren't going to let all that lovely gold slip through their fingers."

"Cynic," Ginny chided.

"Realist," Ron concluded.

*

Harry was of two minds about going to Hogsmeade, but decided against it. He didn't want Ron and Hermione to think he was spying on them, and he didn't need anything from the shops. He spent the afternoon in the library, hoping to get a glimpse of Ginny and her study group.

By suppertime he was dying of curiosity to know how Ron and Hermione's date went. He didn't have long to wait once he was in the Great Hall. They walked in looking like they always did. Hermione's nose was pink from the cold and her eyes were sparkling. Ron was carrying several parcels, which he dumped on the table.

"Hi Harry!" Hermione said cheerfully. "We brought you something." She started opening bags and boxes. Harry saw several balls of wool, which meant Ron must have gotten stuck in the yarn shop.

"This one," Ron said, handing her a bag.

Hermione pulled out a Days of Destiny t-shirt. "They were all discounted for some reason," she said.

"Ginny will like that," Harry said.

"Oh, there's one for you, too," she said, eagerly taking out an identical one in a larger size.

Ron looked apologetic, which Harry thought was not good enough . . . "Um, that's really nice of you, Hermione."

She beamed at him. How could he tell her that he would never wear it?

"Don't give it to the house-elves to launder though," she warned. "The label says it needs special treatment."

Harry breathed easier knowing H-E.P could dissolve anything.

"So you went shopping, I take it?" he asked as supper appeared on the table.

"Yes," Hermione said happily, sitting next to Ron at the table. "We went shopping since it was too cold to do anything outdoors. And we ate at - what was that place called?" she asked, putting her hand on Ron's knee.

"Turn The Other Page."

"Right. It's this new place that sells book and also has a café with it. They have lovely coffee and light meals, and you can browse through the books while you're waiting."

Harry thought the meal must have been very light considering the way Ron was loading his plate.

"Did you buy any books?" Harry asked, more to keep the conversation going so Ron could get some nourishment.

"I didn't have to!" she said excitedly. "Since you're allowed to read the books as long as you want, you can really judge if the book is worth buying. The one on house-elves was all outdated material cobbled from other books. I recognized that right away."

Hermione helped herself to a pork chop. She glanced at Ron scrapping his plate clean and then reaching for the bowl of potatoes. "It was the perfect Hogsmeade trip," she said to Harry.

Ron grinned but didn't stop eating.

"So, do you two reckon you'll go together to Hogsmeade again?" he asked carefully.

"Oh, yes," Hermione declared. Then she blushed and said, "I've browsed long enough."

Ron nodded as he speared another pork chop.

*

"At least it's not pink," Ginny said when she saw the t-shirt that evening in the common room.

Harry frowned. "Why are there goblins on it?"

"That's how Roderick infiltrated Lord Lyle's lair." Then she giggled. "Say that real fast - Lord Lyle's lair. Goblins can go through anything, so they took him along." Ginny imitated the actor's ringing baritone, "'Goblins go after treasure, and now I must go after my treasure.'"

"It just gets worse and worse," he groaned.

"So what did you find out about the big date?" she asked, scooting next to him so he wouldn't have to talk too loudly.

"Not much. It seems they went to all the places Hermione likes."

"Oh, that's sweet. Ron really must have planned it out, just for her."

"I reckon he could do that since he's known her for so long," Harry said gloomily. "I don't think I could do that for you. I've never been to the shops with you - so I don't know your favorites." Now that he saw how happy Hermione was, he realized how bad their first official date was in comparison. "Our trip to Hogsmeade wasn't so successful - I'm sorry."

Whack!

"Ow!" He rubbed his arm. "You're stronger than you look."

"Well I hope you remember that - and what I'm telling you," Ginny said unrepentantly. "You do not control the world - you couldn't help we were attacked, or that Hermione had a flashback. Get over yourself - ok?"

She always looked incredibly vibrant when she was lecturing him; there was something about the way her brown eyes took on the light and how the color came up in her face. It was too bad they were in the crowded common room . . . And she was right - as always. "Yes, dear," he answered.

She struggled to keep from smiling.

"So what are your favorite shops, so I know?"

"I love to look at quills and ink and parchment," she answered promptly. "Honeydukes is brilliant - but I stay away from Zonko's - Fred and George dragged me there too often for it to be fun any more."

Parchment didn't sound very exciting, but then the yarn shop must not have been very exciting for Ron either. Then he thought about trailing Ginny all over Hogsmeade. The fun would be watching her have fun - to see her happy, flushed face - to have her contentedly link her arm with his between shops - to steal a kiss when her hands were full of merchandise. Now he could imagine Ron and Hermione's date - and it must have turned out just the way Ron wanted it to.

*

Ron's seventeenth birthday must have turned out just the way he wanted it as well. If Ron knew all of Hermione's likes and dislikes, she knew the same about him. She arranged a little party in the common room complete with coconut cake, Chudley Cannons favors, and an Exploding Snap tower-building contest that Seamus and Dean won, since they weren't fussy about the state of their eyebrows.

It seemed hard to believe that Ron was of age, Harry thought, watching the silliness. (They were now playing Trivial Pursuit: Quidditch Edition, which Hermione and Ron were winning handily.) Ron was the eldest of their group - and now he was technically an adult in the eyes of Wizard law. Soon it would be Harry's turn. While it was thrilling to think of leaving the Dursleys, it scared him as well. He really would be alone in the world - alone with Voldemort.

"Harry, come and help!" Seamus and Neville were motioning him over.

"Go on," Ginny urged from his side. She was leafing through a book on Apparition, one of Ron's gifts.

"I'll try," he answered getting up. "But I just play Quidditch, I don't know a lot about it."

"Just like magic," Seamus chortled.

"Just like flying," Neville added.

Just like life, Harry thought.

*

The spring thaw began. The snow turned gray, the ice broke up in the lake, and the dragons started getting restless. "Lookin' for lady friends" was how Hagrid put it.

Harry suggested that they feed the dragons some chocolate for a treat, considering how Norbert perked up at the smell of it. Hagrid was appalled. "Can't do that Harry. Choc'lat makes 'em drunk as lords. An' you've ne'r seen sumthin' until you've seen a drunk dragon."

There were no drunken dragons on St. Patrick's Day, but Harry had a fairly good idea there were some drunken Gryffindors. Seamus lost their house one hundred points for "inappropriately celebrating St. Patrick's day."

"A stupid way to meet the fifth year Prefect" was all Dean had to say on the subject. Harry didn't know any more details since Ron wasn't involved either. Seamus hadn't invited him because he didn't want Ron to split his loyalties with Hermione. Harry had been with Dumbledore that night, learning to call Hedwig from great distances.

He felt he should learn to call Ginny from great distances, since he barely saw her. The Quidditch rivalry was heating up now that Slytherin was expected to beat Hufflepuff in the next match. If they did, they would be tied with Gryffindor. Katie had dropped the even-tempered Quidditch captain façade to reveal her true nature as Oliver Wood's spiritual heir. The Chasers were bearing the brunt of her enthusiasm - so it left them with less time together than ever.

Sometimes, in moments of doubt, he wondered if Ginny longed for him the same way he longed for her. Ginny went through her day with a cheerful efficiency he could never match. It was easy to be around her because she was rarely moody. Yet he knew there was more going on with her than her public face showed. Ever since Valentine's Day when he realized she was as strongly attracted to him as he was to her, he started to really think about what her feelings for him could possibly be. He wished they could have a long uninterrupted stretch of time to talk. Yet, it wasn't Ginny who brought up the next interesting conversation.

*

"Potter, Weasley, we need to talk," Theodore Nott muttered the first Friday in April while they were waiting for Defense Against the Dark Arts to begin in the Great Hall.

They quickly moved away from the others and waited to hear what he would say. Hermione was watching them with raised eyebrows, clearly intrigued. Nott looked carefully around the room and then said warily, "I don't know if this is important, but when I looked at the calendar today, I remembered something."

Harry could tell Ron wanted to make a snappy comment about dental appointments or paying taxes, but Harry was glad he didn't; he didn't want to scare Nott away.

"April thirtieth - that's Walpurgis Night."

At their blank stares, Theodore Nott continued, "Before they called themselves Death Eaters, the Dark Lord's followers called themselves the Knights of Walpurgis." He smirked at their reactions. "I know, doesn't have the same ring to it, does it?"

"What's Walpurgis?" Ron asked.

"It's an ancient holiday and it's like the reverse of Halloween." Then he added, "You know, Halloween is our night - the triumph of dark over light, wizard over Muggle. Walpurgis Night in the spring is the last stand of the wizards before the light takes over and so do the Muggles. The Muggles used to burn bonfires and make noises to keep the witches away. And of course, we know the Muggles won the war against magic."

"How do you know all of this?"

"Because, Weasley, unlike you - my bedtime stories were about the nasty Muggles and how we wizards had to keep them in check. My mad old grandfather used to lull me to sleep with this one:

The road is wide, the way is long:

How madly swirls the raving throng

The pitchfork pricks, the broom us hurts;

The infant chokes, its mother bursts."

He noted the revulsion on Harry and Ron's faces. "That's how you train the Squires of Walpurgis - make sure they hate the Muggles."

Harry didn't know what to say. It all seemed so primitive - and dark - this ancient hatred. The Muggle world he knew about was full of people worrying about their weight and being made redundant.

"Imagine my surprise when I came to Hogwarts and found out there was another side."

"So what about April thirtieth? Do you think something will happen then?"

"I don't know," Nott admitted. "But - do you think I should tell Dumbledore this? He probably already knows."

"Yes," Harry said quickly, "he'd want to know - and even if he already knows, he might find it interesting that you know. The more they can learn about the Death Eaters, the better."

Theodore Nott nodded. Then he added in a burst of candor, "You know, it's not very Slytherin to hate - it's too indiscriminate and wastes energy."

Hermione joined them at that point. "They just told us the teacher would be here in about ten minutes." She looked at their serious faces. "Anything I should know?"

"Just discussing the calendar of events, Granger," Nott answered. "How are your elf friends, by the way? I heard they've been having a little in-fighting."

"How did you -" Hermione stopped and studied him speculatively. "They have been in-fighting. After Filch discovered that Bundimun infestation there's finger pointing all around."

"What's Bundimun?" Harry asked her.

Surprisingly, it was Theodore Nott who answered. "Bundimuns are like green fungus. They're sort of an animal. They feed on dirt and their secretions can rot away a foundation."

"It's not a sign of good-housekeeping," Ron added. "Mum would die of shame."

"And so have the house-elves," Hermione said. "And they want someone to blame." She looked at the Theodore Nott. "There's a group around Happy and a group around Dobby. Which side are you talking to?"

Nott smiled. "I grew up around the Malfoy house so I certainly know Dobby. Happy cleans the Slytherin common room, so I know him too. Since I am fond of the English language I try not to hold too many conversations with either one of them."

Hermione was not happy with this invective against her beloved elves. She raised her chin and asked, "What did Professor Snape find out about the resin?"

Nott didn't blink an eye at the rapid change of subject or her aggressive tone. "It's from an animal - perhaps from the tropics - it cannot be removed with any known dissolving agent. When the Imperturbable Charm is lifted it starts to digest whatever it is attached to." He raised an eyebrow. "Is that enough information for you?"

"Yes, it is," Hermione said primly. Then she added with a gleam in her eye, "And delivered in impeccable English."

Nott laughed. "Good one. You Gryffindors - you're a humorous lot. No wonder Malfoy hates you."

"May he freeze his skinny ferret arse at Dumstrang," Ron and Harry said in unison.

*

Harry felt like he had Apparated all the way to Durmstrang that same night, as he went farther and farther a field from Hogwarts. When he landed outdoors in a small, fenced-in garden, he found Lupin waiting for him. Harry tried not to notice that it was much warmer here than at Hogwarts, and that he could hear traffic in the background.

"Harry, we want you to try Apparating into a restricted area." Lupin said, "You won't have a lot of room to maneuver."

A street light allowed Harry to see Lupin quite clearly. He didn't seem worried or anxious for Harry, which gave him the confidence to try.

It's like funneling yourself through a tunnel, Harry decided when he landed on the floor of what looked like an office.

"Excellent, Harry!" cried a familiar voice. He whirled around to see Bill Weasley, coming from behind a massive, wood-paneled desk.

"Did I just Apparate into Gringotts?" he asked amazed. He was in London - all the way from Hogwarts.

"You did. This is one of the trickiest spots to Apparate into since security is so tight." Bill said, shaking his hand. "Sit down. You have a few minutes before you have to go back. I have tea."

Harry looked around at the grand office. The trappings of wealth and power were on display. The walls were fitted with bookcases holding spell books, scales, and various photographs of Gringotts holdings. The large window was covered in green velvet draperies. There was an oriental rug on the floor, its colors jewel bright in the somber office. Uncle Vernon would have been very impressed.

Bill noticed the direction of Harry's attention. "Don't be too impressed. It's all for the clients - not a bit of it is mine. Well, except for her picture."

On Bill's desk was a stunning photograph of Fleur in a garden, holding a basket of daisies. Her loose white blouse kept slipping off of one shoulder. When she tugged at the fabric, she looked out of the frame to smile a mysterious, enticing smile.

"How do you get anything done?" Harry asked, trying to tear his eyes away.

"Oh, she leaves during office hours." He smiled his own mysteriously happy smile at the picture. Fleur-in-the-garden smiled back and left in one graceful motion.

Once settled with his tea and a huge slice of the cake Mrs. Weasley had made for the occasion, Harry asked Bill some questions about Apparating. "Why was I able to come into a bank? You'd think the goblins wouldn't want anyone to come in here unannounced."

"They don't." Bill grinned. "But their non-goblin employees need to get to work in an efficient manner. Only I can Apparate into my office or those I authorize. And even then, you couldn't get past my door without a passkey. No - Gringotts is sealed tight."

"Oh. How is everyone, then?" Ginny would be thrilled to know he had seen Bill. If he ever had an opportunity to tell her, he thought with a pang.

"Good. Mum and Dad are busy with the Order - I think Mum really likes setting wards. She just did Percy's flat for him."

Harry raised his eyebrows that Percy still wasn't living at home.

Bill shrugged. "It's very hard to move back home, once you've been on your own - believe me. It's best this way, and don't think it reflects on their relationship - they're still talking."

He continued with his siblings. "Fred and George are -" Bill searched for a way to describe them.

"Still Fred and George," Harry finished for him.

"Right." He laughed. "I hear quite a bit about you from Charlie - actually about you and Ginny."

"Oh," he said warily, hoping Bill didn't have a version of The Talk lined up for him.

"Don't worry," Bill said, his eyes twinkling like Ginny's did when she found something funny. " Charlie is the one who has the knowledge of animal husbandry. He likes to give The Talk."

Harry relaxed and took another sip of tea, until he noticed Bill watching him speculatively. "What?"

"I'm just wondering how you're holding up under the pressure. Dumbledore's putting you through some grueling lessons - and Ginny's a very complicated person."

He hadn't felt under pressure - confused sometimes - but compared to last year's horror of Voldemort in his mind and Umbridge in his school, this year was wonderful. "Dumbledore doesn't push too hard - and Ginny is well -"

"A mystery," Bill finished for him. "Women are the ultimate mystery, take my word for it. I have to solve all sorts of mysteries when I raid a tomb or dig for treasure. None of that is as baffling as woman who loves you one minute and is telling you off for some comment you made last week the next."

Harry realized the truth in that statement. Still, he didn't think that was necessarily bad. "But-"

Bill nodded his head. "Women - they're the hidden, glorious piece to the puzzle of the universe. Maybe I'll understand on my deathbed - or not." He grinned and looked at Fleur's picture. "But I'm going to die trying."

Harry had a good idea that Bill would enjoy the trying no matter how difficult it proved to be.

*

It was well after mid-night when Harry finally made his way into the dark Gryffindor common room. It seemed stifling after the walk from the gates on a chilly spring night. He took off his cloak and shoes before making his way quietly up the steps to the dormitory. Quickly shedding his clothes, he started to turn down the covers when he remembered the large pile of chocolate frogs he had left on the table in the common room. He knew the first years would be downstairs early - even on a Saturday morning - and his sweets would be fair game.

Berating himself for his thoughtlessness, he put on his trousers again, not bothering with his shirt, and made his way to the common room. It still seemed overly warm, even though the fires were banked. A house-elf had already cleaned, he noticed.

Then he saw her through the dim light. She was sleeping on the corner settee, her white nightgown the brightest thing in the darkness. Now that his eyes had adjusted to the half-light, he could see her hair tumbled in loose waves around her shoulders and that she was lying on her side, curled up peacefully.

He gingerly sat down in the small space at the curve of her waist. Up close, she was so beautiful - he watched her for a moment. Her lashes looked dark against her pale skin. Her mouth was tender, as if she had pleasant dreams, her lips slightly parted. The faint rhythm of her breathing was the only sound in the quiet room.

"Ginny," he whispered in her ear, "wake up. You fell asleep in the common room."

She sighed, rolled over, and looked into his eyes. "Harry," she breathed, "you're finally back."

"I am."

She put her arms around him and pulled him close enough to whisper in his ear. "I missed you today. So I thought I'd wait up to see you - I didn't mean to fall asleep." He heard the longing he had been feeling for weeks echoed in her voice. Then she kissed him, in a way she had never kissed him before. She was loose-limbed and relaxed; her kisses so languorous and warm that he felt pulled into her . . .

And he let himself sink. He returned those kisses, slowing down to meet her, letting all thoughts of lessons or school or rules slide away.

They took their time . . . exploring this new openness between them. Her hands were small and soft on his bare back, caressing him tenderly. He could feel her body through the thin fabric of her nightgown. Trailing kisses down her neck, he followed the ribbon strap falling off of her shoulder. She sighed her pleasure.

It didn't seem possible that this meeting of hands and mouths and skin could mean so much to him. But it did. Because she didn't always say the things he was longing to hear, because he doubted how she felt sometimes, this beautiful, generous affection by her overwhelmed him. She trusted him. She must love him as much as he loved her.

Love. He had never told her he loved her - he had never used that word, even in his thoughts, but now he knew it was true. He loved her and he wanted to tell her.

Before he could whisper those words, the fire sputtered. That small noise broke the spell and brought them back to the world of Hogwarts.

His heart pounding, he quickly covered her, and only then did he sit up and peer through the darkness to make sure they were still alone. He groped around for his glasses, hoping he wouldn't see regret on her face.

She was gazing at him intently with large, vulnerable eyes. It was as if she realized she had revealed too much and she wasn't ready . . . He wanted nothing more than to make that confusion go away. Gathering her in his arms he held her close. He could feel her trembling. Then she wound her arms tightly around his neck.

"Are you ok?" he asked.

She nodded into his shoulder. Her hair tickled his bare skin.

He wasn't surprised at her reaction. If he felt overwhelmed after their rare moment of abandon, he couldn't imagine what Ginny was feeling. And he had learned enough over the year not to force her to talk about herself. He held her until she stopped trembling and relaxed against him.

He searched for a safe topic. "Um. I saw Bill tonight," he began softly.

"You Apparated all the way to Gringotts?"she asked, pulling away in surprise.

"In stages, yeah."

He paused. "Bill says hello."

She laughed weakly. "You went all the way to London for that important message."

"I also had a piece of your mum's cake."

"Oh, what kind?"

"Madiera cake."

"That's a good one." She sighed.

"Are you really ok?"

"Yes. No." She pulled away to sit with her back against the settee. "You must think I'm ridiculous," she said, looking at her hands.

Of all the words Harry could use to describe her - amazing, beautiful, lovable - ridiculous wasn't one of them. "No." He reached out and took her hand. " I think you're rather . . . wonderful."

"Really?" She peeped at him.

"I'm just glad that you . . . like me, you know . . . the same way I like you."

"Oh." Her eyes clouded.

Then he remembered what Ginny had told him in the kitchens back in November. Tom Riddle told her that he loved her and he used it against her. His heart twisted as he looked at her in the diaphanous white gown - the silly narrow straps setting off her exquisite shoulders. She was perfect in his eyes and he couldn't tell her that - because that bastard had used her love, her very nature, as a weapon against her

.

He fell silent, thinking about all the words he couldn't say. His passion had cooled, but the emotion welled inside of him. He loved her; but he couldn't tell her - yet.

"Harry, I -" She looked him in the eye. "I feel like I did something wrong . . ."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you know how you blokes are always going on about The Talk? The one I heard from Mum was that the girl is supposed to be the one who decides - you know - how far things go - in a relationship."

Now he was surprised. Ginny was always the one who was demonstrative.

"I never thought it would be an issue," she said with a short laugh. "I didn't think any of that . . . sex stuff . . . sounded very appealing." She hastened to add at the look on his face, "Don't get me wrong. Kisses and hugs were all very nice - but nothing to lose control over - or sleep."

She touched his cheek. "And then you came along with your eyes and your kisses and your touch . . . And tonight - I was swept away - and that's a little frightening."

"But we didn't do anything - like that."

"But we could have - and I never dreamed how easy it would be . . ."

He sighed and put his arms around her. "We don't have to do anything we don't want to do," he said firmly.

"What are you saying?" she asked, peering into his face.

"That I'm not some force of nature you have to fight against. You're not the only one responsible - ok? It's not like we're wallpapering."

She smiled. "You're right," she said, relief in her voice.

That sat together in the glow of the fireplace, content to be quiet after that storm of emotion. She was curled against him, her hand over his heart. He stroked her hair absently, letting his thoughts wander.

"So, what else did your mum say in The Talk?" he asked eventually.

Ginny giggled. "Oh, the usual part A is here - part B goes there."

He raised his eyes in silent thanks that he never had to hear The Talk.

"Oh, and make sure to keep one foot on the floor at all times." She was grinning. "That's how you stay out of trouble."

"One foot on the floor?" he asked laughing. "I don't think that would work - I mean it would be awkward . . ."

"Let's see." She giggled and put one bare foot on the floor. Since her legs were so short, she couldn't sit all the way back and still reach the floor. He could, but then her face only came up to his chest.

"It really won't work," he conceded - unless you run away and join the circus - they must know some tricks.

"Should I write to Mum and tell her I took her advice?"

"Sure, Ginny - that's what every mother wants to hear. I'm sure your six brothers - who are all bigger than me, by the way - would like a copy of that letter."

She laughed. Her hair was mused up and her eyes were shinning. Everything was all right between them. In his relief, he blurted, "You really are beautiful."

She stopped laughing and said warily, "My goodness, I believe that was a compliment."

"Do you believe me?" It was important that she did - that she took it in the spirit he was giving it - not like Tom Riddle trying to charm her . . .

She rushed to put her arms around his neck in reassurance. "I do believe you - because . . . " She ended shyly, "That's how you made me feel tonight."

His heart lifted. "I hope I always make you feel that way," he said.

"I do too," she answered with a smile.

"We probably should go upstairs now," he said regretfully. He wasn't wearing his watch, but he knew they would be in big trouble if they were ever caught . . . he didn't want to think about what kind of Howler they would get from Mrs. Weasley then.

"Yes, dear," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

He laughed. "Well, that's a first."

He walked her to the door of her dormitory. "Good night." He kissed her swiftly, remembering her words to him in Sirius's kitchen. "Sweetie."

Back to index


Chapter 18: Walpurgis Night

A/N: To all my readers at SIYE: the Sugar Quill is still down, which means you all get to read it here first. I have finshed the entire story - it just needs to be beta'd. Since my beta is back in school, my updating has slowed. I will try to let no more than a week go between updates, since I have some wicked cliffhangers coming up. Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish for the beta read and to Julu who thought I should "sex up" Hermione a bit in this scene.

Chapter 17: Walpurgis Night

After his night with Ginny in the common room, Harry found himself falling into the most vivid of daydreams - all of them concerning her. There was something about having it all clear in his mind about how he felt about her that made him happy. He thought he must look like Luna Lovegood half the time, looking distractedly out the windows during class, forgetting to finish what was on his plate.

Hermione noticed, and with her characteristic forthrightness, she brought up the subject a few days later in the common room. "Harry, you've been mooning around for a week."

Ron let out a disgruntled sigh. She glanced at Ron but continued her questioning. "What's going on with you?" she asked, worriedly watching him stare at the corner settee.

"Hmm?" Harry dragged his attention to her. "Nothing's wrong."

"Hermione, I told you he's fine," Ron said. "Give him a break."

"Ron, I have every right to ask Harry questions," she said with dignity, and then she looked at her watch. "You're supposed to be supervising the detentions cleaning the boy's bathroom in five minutes."

"I know," he said shortly, standing up. He clapped Harry on the shoulder. "I tried."

Harry then knew that Hermione must have been fretting about this for days.

"You haven't been yourself. You've been distracted and quiet." She leaned across the table. "You haven't been having headaches or dreams or anything - have you?"

"No." He hadn't had a dream like that one with all the sevens since October. "I'm fine - really."

She sighed. "If you don't want to talk about it, just say so."

"I don't know what there is to talk about." There really wasn't. Nothing had changed on the surface. He and Ginny were still going out. That was it.

"If I didn't know you better . . ." she trailed off.

"What?"

"I'd say you were in love," she said a little breathlessly, as if this was something she didn't dare say.

"What if I am?" He didn't see why this was a big deal to Hermione.

Something dawned on her face. "Really? You just . . . are?"

"Just are what?" He hated when Hermione was two paces ahead of him. It made him feel as if every word he uttered was charged with meaning - when it was just a word.

"In love." Her face was lit with wonder.

Then he realized that this conversation was about her and not him. He relaxed. Obviously Hermione was trying to figure out what she felt for Ron. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

"I don't know - I mean it's not one of those things . . ."

You can read in a book to know, Harry finished for her in his mind.

"And it hasn't been much time . . ." she continued, biting her lip.

Only six years, Harry thought.

"Since . . . you know, that you and Ginny have been going out," Hermione added, still pretending they were talking about Harry.

"How long is it supposed to take?" he asked, doing the mental arithmetic. He hadn't realized they had been going out for over six months.

"I don't know - it just seems two months is too soon to be feeling like this," she said in rebuking tones.

"Well that's good because Ginny and I have been going out for over six months." He grinned at catching her out.

She blushed and ducked her head. He waited for her to say something else. She was tracing circles on the top of her homework planner, gathering her thoughts.

"Can I ask you something?" Her voice wasn't quite steady. "How important is . . . physical . . . you know . . . kissing and . . . things - to men?"

"Is there a word stronger than obsessed?"

"Really?" Her face fell.

Harry realized he had probably said the wrong thing. Whatever was worrying Hermione, knowing that all blokes thought about sex constantly was probably not what she needed to hear. "Ron's no Roger Davies, if that's what you're worried about."

She looked at him, startled. "I know that - it's just how do you know the difference between snogging - " She grimaced. "I hate that word - between snogging that's just snogging - and snogging that - well- means something?"

Harry wondered how busy the common room was after midnight these days. "What do you think it means?"

"I want to think it means love and all that." She laughed ruefully. "But I don't trust it."

"Do you trust Ron?"

"Of course I do!" Her eyes were round with surprise. "Ron's the most trustworthy person I know - next to you."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I - I don't . . . really know." She spread her hands. "Maybe there's something wrong with me."

"There's nothing wrong with you."

"You don't think so?" she asked doubtfully.

He didn't know what else to say - this was obviously something she should talk to Ron about.

"I just wonder if I'm reading all this wrong," she said miserably.

"What do you mean?"

"The first time Ron kissed me -"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, he didn't know if he wanted to hear all the details.

"He looked at me like I was the most beautiful girl in the world," she said in exasperation.

He stared at her. Why would she be upset about that?

"Well - I'm not the most beautiful girl in the world. It's not true - so how can he look at me like that?" she demanded.

For someone as smart as Hermione, he couldn't believe how she was missing the obvious. "Because he thinks you are the most beautiful girl in the world - it's true to him." He couldn't believe Hermione was still doubtful. "This is Ron we're talking about - he's not going to pretend."

She was starting to look more hopeful.

He remembered how Ron turned it around for Ginny when they were discussing Cho. "So do you think Ron is attractive?" he asked, not quite believing he was asking that question about Ron.

She smiled and ducked her head. "Of course."

He didn't say anything.

"I mean - " She was tracing circles again. "He's so tall and . . . vibrant. You know what I mean?" Hermione was not often at a loss for words. "Maybe it's that red hair - or the eyes - or the way he gives you his entire attention when he talks to you."

Harry knew exactly what she meant - but his was a different Weasley.

"So do you think Ron is going to doubt that you think he's attractive?"

"Not after the other night," Hermione said, and then clapped her hand over her mouth.

"I'm sorry, I've forgotten what you just said," he joked, hoping she wouldn't tell him any more.

She laughed. "Selective amnesia brought about by the trauma of hearing about your two best friends . . ."

"Must be." He grinned.

"I'm making a mountain out of a molehill, aren't I?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "I'm just not used to feeling . . . beautiful."

"Really? Why?"

"Most girls don't feel beautiful most of the time," she retorted.

"They don't?" He couldn't imagine why. "So that's a good thing . . . um . . . you know . . . if a girl feels beautiful because of a bloke?" he asked.

"Better than good," she said, her color heightening in her face.

He wondered if it was wrong of him to feel suddenly proud - that he could make Ginny feel that way.

"So this first kiss - it was in the yarn shop?" he asked casually.

"I dropped all the yarn I was holding," Hermione said dreamily. Then she looked at him sharply and said, "How did you know that?"

"Wild guess."

She laughed; it was a genuine, happy sound. "I had two shades of orange in my hands and I wanted Ron to tell me which color was the closest to the Chudley Cannons hat you gave him. I told him I was going to knit him a matching scarf. And then he just looked at me - like that - and then he kissed me." She paused. "It was like everything was in slow motion, and for some reason, I couldn't hold that yarn and kiss him back."

He cleared his throat.

She came out of her reverie. "Oh, no - you asked and now you have to hear it because I haven't told anyone." Her eyes were shining and her face was open and alive. "So the yarn rolled all over the floor - and Madam Purl - she's the proprietor - said I had to buy it because it was soiled from the floor." Her eyes flashed. "If I hadn't been so happy, I would have told her it was her fault for having such dusty floors, but I didn't care."

Hermione pulled up her knitting bag from the floor. "See," she said, showing him a half-finished scarf, "see how the colors are variegated?"

Looking at that bright, lumpy bit of scarf, Harry knew that it would be Ron's prized possession. "Ron's going to love it."

"Yes." Her smile was satisfied. "You know, you never told me about how you and Ginny got together - and you did promise at the train station," she reminded him.

He thought about how he and Ginny went together into that dead house of the Black family. He could never explain to Hermione, or anyone for that matter, how Ginny had been the light in all those shadows. . .

Hermione was waiting expectantly for an answer.

"I just . . ." How could he say this? "Realized how sweet she was."

Hermione's expression softened. "You know, you're becoming quite sweet yourself."

He sighed in resignation - it was hopeless. The only thing he could do was beg. "Please don't ever use that word in connection with me again."

"Why?"

"And please don't use it around Seamus - or Dean - or Neville -"

She laughed. "I get it now. You're going to have to show me that Reversed Nostril Hex."

Ron must have told her. Big mouth, he thought.

"I'll demonstrate on Ron," he said.

*

That night, while Harry was getting ready for bed in the empty dormitory, he thought about his parents. They must have met here at Hogwarts. Although he had seen them at fifteen - not acting very maturely - they must have grown up enough in the next two years to . . . what? Sirius and Lupin had assured him that they liked each other well enough by seventh year to date each other. Harry wondered when exactly they fell in love and how it came about.

It had been interesting listening to Hermione. Even a year ago he couldn't have had that conversation without squirming. But this year it seemed almost inevitable that Hermione would be talking about love . . . and that love would be in connection to Ron. They really must be growing up.

He sighed and turned down the covers. He didn't want to think too far ahead into the future. Hogwarts was safe - but he couldn't stay here forever - he would have to face Voldemort eventually if he was going to have a future . . .

"Harry?"

Ron interrupted his not-so-pleasant thoughts. "Did Hermione give you a hard time?" He was busily stowing his Prefect badge on the nightstand, and kicking off his shoes.

"No - actually." Harry really didn't want to be a notice board for these two, but he thought he should give Ron a clue as to what Hermione was thinking.

"Well, what was it then?" Ron asked, taking off his watch.

"At first I thought she was worried about me," Harry answered, watching Ron closely. "But she was really looking for someone to talk to."

Ron nodded. This wasn't unusual for Hermione to seek someone out when she had something on her mind.

"So - been to any yarn shops lately?"

Ron was in the process of pulling a t-shirt over his head. When his face finally emerged, it was bright red. "What did she tell you?"

"That your scarf is going to be two shades of orange."

"Oh." Ron looked sheepish.

"She showed it to me - It looks nice."

"Yeah."

"Are you," Harry hesitated, "happy with it?"

Ron sat on his bed and gave Harry a crooked smile. "Yeah."

"She is too."

The smile on his face broadened and his color heightened, but Ron only said, "Good."

Harry felt his notice board duties were over. He got into bed.

"Harry?"

"What."

"Hermione told you everything, didn't she?"

Harry grinned in the dark. "I'm sure it wasn't everything."

Ron sighed. "And Ginny keeps secrets so well. You'll always know . . ."

"Yeah," Harry said in a gratified tone, comfortable in the fact he would never need to do the Reversed Nostril Hex on Ron.

*

"I'll walk you to the gates," Ginny said.

"I thought you had practice with the Chasers this evening," Harry said with a smile. He was glad for her company. She was dressed for practice wearing his old sweatshirt and her hair in a ponytail.

"I do - but we're not starting for another half hour. The days are longer now that it's the end of April."

Spring had truly come to Hogwarts. The bank sloping toward the lake was covered in daffodils. The yellow was so bright against the emerald green of the grass and the blue of the lake, that it didn't seem natural. In the lawn there were tufts of tiny blue forget-me-nots, and at the edge of the Forbidden Forest the shy woodland violets showed their faces.

The peace of their surroundings seemed to infect them both as they linked hands, and walked slowly, not talking much. Professor Lupin was waiting for him, so he didn't kiss her good-bye - even though he wanted to do. She squeezed his hand before she let go.

Some of his feelings must have shown on his face as he watched her leave, because Professor Lupin said, "Spring Fever, Harry?"

He was surprised that Lupin had said anything. "Er-"

"It does seem a waste to spend a perfectly beautiful evening on lessons," Lupin interrupted. "But I think this is the last lesson you'll need. You will have no trouble going where it's possible for a wizard to go."

"Oh - that's good." While he was glad he had succeeded at Apparating, he was going to miss these lessons - he had met a lot of people from the Order and he had enjoyed spending time with Lupin and Tonks.

Harry Apparated quickly through the final circuit of Chocolate Frogs. It was just getting dark when Harry and Lupin traced their steps back to the gates of Hogwarts. Harry turned to shake the professor's hand when he saw something that made his heart stand still.

High in the tranquil sky was a luminous green skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth. It was the Dark Mark - and it was over Hogsmeade.

"Go quickly," Lupin said in a tense voice. "I'll watch that you make it through the gates, and then I'll go to Hogsmeade." Then he gripped his arm, and said desperately, "Harry, stay where it's safe."

Harry nodded and sprinted through the gates. By the time he turned to see Lupin, he had already Disapparated. He kept running, more to burn off his anxiety than because he was worried about a Death Eater chasing him. Hogwarts and its grounds were perfectly safe.

But that reassuring thought was replaced by another: it was April thirtieth, Walpurgis Night.

*

"Harry!" Charlie called. "Get into the castle quickly. The dragons are all down."

Harry craned to see the Swedish Short-Snout lying next to the lake, snorting small flames which smelled suspiciously like-

"Chocolate," Charlie said grimly, having caught up with him. "Someone fed them all chocolate and now they're drunk." The blue dragon heaved a deep sigh, which sounded suspiciously like a giggle. "Except for Norbert - the chocolate left for him wasn't touched. Hagrid is letting him loose now."

They looked up to see Norbert darting low over the grounds, his breathing agitated, his wings held out tensely. He turned his head from side to side, looking for predators. His massive tail was held straight and still, except for the end, which twitched in anticipation.

Seeing this animal in full alert status sent waves of fear and dread through Harry. Norbert could sense danger. Harry wondered what that danger could be.

They didn't have long to wait, since Norbert suddenly expelled a long low hiss of blue flames. There was an answering mushroom-shaped flame from the Forbidden Forest. That savage sound sent shivers down Harry's spine. Straining to see, he caught sight of a Chinese Fireball, gleaming red, emerging from the darkness. Without warning, it launched itself at Norbert.

Norbert stood on his hind legs in mid-air and thrashed with his claws, tearing a wide strip across the Fireball's snout. It howled in agony and shot a huge flame onto Norbert's soft belly. A livid red scorch mark glowed on his tender hide. Harry winced in sympathetic pain.

Norbert roared and rolled in mid-air, so he was facing the stars. Then, with tremendous effort, he moved that deadly tail as far back as it could possibly go. The Fireball was going for Norbert's exposed throat. It didn't see the spiked tail slamming through space until it was too late . . . The red dragon was hurtled, end-over-end, into the distant regions of the forest. Harry savagely hoped Aragog and friends would find him.

A cheer came up from the grounds as the dragon handlers and what looked to be most of the teachers of Hogwarts, celebrated Norbert's efforts. Harry guessed that since the dragons couldn't guard the grounds, the teachers would. The castle was impregnable - so as long as the grounds were safe, so were the students.

Another dragon loomed over the lake. This one was a Peruvian Vipertooth - small but deadly. It was more agile than Norbert - but it couldn't sink its poisonous fangs through Norbert's healthy black hide or reach his eyes. Finally, the Vipertooth couldn't outmaneuver that deadly tail, and it too tumbled to the earth.

Norbert was getting tired. They could all see it. He was gliding to save energy and his breath came in short bursts of pale red flame. Still he did not give up his vigil.

They had no idea how many more dragons were going to be set on Norbert that night. Harry could hear the handlers trying to coax the dragon down for water and a rest, but he stayed in the air, restlessly searching . . .

They heard it before they saw it: the eerie sound of blast flames coming from a deadly machine, or a furnace . . . or the largest dragon Harry had ever seen.

A huge Ukrainian Ironbelly lumbered over the Quidditch Pitch. It was difficult to spot at first; its dull, dark grey hide matched the night sky. Norbert quivered when he spotted his foe, who outweighed him by half.

He hesitated the briefest of seconds. Then Norbert shot through the air, his head down, tail out straight, so he looked for all the world like a shiny black rocket aimed directly at the Ironbelly's head. The crack of the impact echoed off the walls of the castle. The Ironbelly reeled and almost touched the ground. Norbert flew on dizzily and then circled back.

They both stood on their hind legs, with their wings outstretched - those two vicious dragons. So huge were they, that they blotted out the stars, their flames blindingly bright. Norbert clawed the Ironbelly's red eye until blood spurted. The dragon screamed in agony and slashed Norbert's webbed wing, engulfing the animal in flames. So hot was the fire of combat that the Ironbelly's bloody eye cauterized and the empty socket glowed ominously.

It soon became clear that they were locked in a battle to the death. Both dragons tired and moved closer, using their claws to hold each other in the air as each engulfed the other in flame. Soon they were a pillar of fire, their black bodies melted together so that they looked like the wick inside a candle flame. To his horror, Harry realized the fire was feeding on their bodies.

Their flesh melted away, their bones glowed gold, and still they were locked together. The gold became brighter and the column of flame thinner, as the two enemies became one. The light from this airborne pyre was so bright; Harry could clearly see his fellow spectators. Hardened dragon handlers and teacher alike could only stand with wands slack at their sides, and stare at the terrible beauty of annihilation.

As the fire died and the smell of scorched grass and flesh wafted over to him, Harry was surprised to feel tears on his face. He heard a long keening noise from Hagrid - and he remembered that egg in the fire so long ago.

"Oh hell." He heard Charlie Weasley say with a break in his voice. "Oh hell. He was a good dragon."

*

Out of the now-quiet night, he heard his name. "Potter!" McGonagall's voice didn't sound quite steady. "Get in the castle this instant! We don't know what else is coming. All the students are gathered in the Great Hall."

Now that his eyes had adjusted to the darkness, he could see the Dark Mark still hanging luridly in the sky. It garish tones mocked the sacrifice they had just witnessed.

The doors opened for him. He hurriedly brushed the tears out of his eyes to see Peeves hanging upside-down in the Entrance Hall.

"Potter!" He glided upside-down to him, the bells on his orange hat tinkling. "Some untidy elves forgot to clean the toilets!" He held his nose. "Stinky in the girl's bathroom."

"Shut up!" His nerves stretched thin, his senses assaulted by the horrific vision on the grounds; he didn't want to spar with Peeves. He started to march up the stairs to the Great Hall.

But Peeves zoomed in front of him. "Your dead girlfriend and your live girlfriend are in the loo again."

Harry froze as several urgent thoughts pushed through his jammed mind. Dead girlfriend? Ginny can't be . . . Then he remembered. Moaning Myrtle . . . and Ginny? The entrance to the Chamber was there. In his dream he had run to the pipe with the snake etched on it . . .

With a sick lurch of fear, he clambered down the stairs. Even from this distance, he could smell the stench of rot and decay. His heart racing, he scrambled into the dingy bathroom, only to catch his breath at the sight awaiting him.

The floors, walls and ceiling were covered in green cottony fungus. The sinks were crumbling off the wall; the smell of death was stronger than ever. But that wasn't what held his attention.

Someone had opened the Chamber of Secrets yet again.

Back to index


Chapter 19: Battle Of The Chamber

A/N: Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish for the beta read. Thanks to hairy_hen and Julu who read this over for plot holes. (Let me know if you fall into one we didn't find.)

Chapter 18: Battle Of The Chamber

"You're finally here." The mournful voice of Moaning Myrtle was almost absorbed by the thick cottony green fungus covering all surfaces in the girl's bathroom.

"Myrtle, what's happening?" Harry asked urgently, trying not slip on the slime as he made his way to the tunnel leading to the Chamber of Secrets. Lighting his wand, he peered into the opening. It looked like the inside of a huge hollow stem.

"Hmph." Myrtle was pouting again. Harry had forgotten that Myrtle was extremely sensitive and extremely unreasonable.

He swore inwardly and tried to keep from screaming in frustration. "Myrtle, you've known me a long time."

She nodded jerkily, her glasses winking in the dull torchlight.

"So you know I don't come round asking rude questions unless it's absolutely urgent."

"You don't come round at all," she pointed out petulantly.

"I would . . ." He tried to inject some sincerity in his voice. "But this is the girl's bathroom. And I am, well, I am a boy."

Myrtle blushed silver. "I remember - I saw you in the prefect's bath."

Harry would have blushed too if he wasn't so worried. "Right. Anyway - who opened the Chamber?"

"The same one who opened it last time."

He froze. "Tom Riddle?"

"No - the small girl - with the red hair and the big eyes," Myrtle said vaguely.

"Ginny?" he asked through numb lips.

"Right! That's what they called her! She didn't want to at first," Myrtle added.

"Who's they?" he asked, dreading the answer, hoping it wasn't Death Eaters or -

"Oh, you know, the bushy haired-girl. And the tall boy."

"Hermione? Ron?" He tightened his grip on his wand; only the direst emergency would bring them out of the Great Hall against McGonagall's orders.

"And loads more." Myrtle said importantly. "I've never seen so many people in my bathroom. Oh - and a house-elf was with them." She frowned her disapproval. "He wouldn't even listen to my complaints about the state of this bathroom." She floated over to him. "I don't think I'm that fussy, do you? But I really think this has gone too far."

Harry could tell Myrtle was enjoying her tirade against house-elves but he was wasting time. With one foot in the opening, he tried one last time to find out what he was facing. "Why did they all go to the Chamber?"

"Because that little elf said that something down there is eating Hogwarts - and this castle is going to collapse into the lake if they didn't do something about it," she answered.

"Surely not," he sputtered.

"Oh yes," Myrtle assured him and then added, "he also said that the invasion had begun."

*

Harry lit his wand before sliding down the tunnel feet first. He knew he'd be going too fast to actually see anything, but that little bit of light kept a few of his fears at bay. Tearing down the tunnel, it felt as if most of the green slime had been rubbed off by however many people had gone before. He dreaded what he going to find in the Chamber this time.

He landed looking up at the cracked green ceiling of the underground tunnel he and Ron had almost caved in four years ago. The small opening they had crawled through was much larger. He could clearly see many foot and handprints on the slime-covered rocks surrounding the opening. Following the footprints, he also noticed that the snakeskins, rat bones, and all other debris were completely eaten away by the green fungus. That fact was almost as unnerving as those bones were the first time he had been here.

The faint sound of spell work was coming from the direction of the Chamber. He slipped toward it, the blood pounding in his ears.

The door with the snake eyes was open. Jets of red, green and gold could be seen beyond the small group of people huddled in the doorway, peering into the Chamber. Hermione, Ron, Neville, and Luna Lovegood were anxiously watching some sort of battle.

"Harry!" Hermione cried in relief. "What's happening outside Hogwarts? They sent us to the Great Hall telling us Hogsmeade and Hogwarts were under attack." She was speaking all in a rush. "Then Dobby got Ron's attention and asked us to come here - "

"What's -"

" -We tried to bring as many of the DA members with us as we could. The Head Boy and Girl were not happy, but they knew they couldn't keep us all from leaving."

"Hermione, let Harry get a word in edgewise-" Ron interrupted.

"There are attacks all over from what I can tell." He wasn't ready to tell them about Norbert. "The teachers are patrolling the grounds," he answered. "What's going on in the Chamber?"

Neville moved so Harry could see for himself. The vast space was completely covered in green except for the huge statue of Salazar Slytherin, which ominously glowed white in the gloom. There were worrisome fissures, cracks and crazing marring the velvety green of the walls and pillars. From what Harry could see from this angle, the ceiling appeared to be covered in black bunting that looked almost . . . alive.

Incongruously, the battle being waged did not fit either the scale or the severity of its surroundings. A few dozen elves, so small in the great space that they looked like stuffed toys, were faced off in a straight row. The Hogwarts elves were easily identified by their white togas, Dobby, by his brightly colored socks and hats. The invader elves wore light green togas.

For a moment, Harry thought the elves were frozen in place, until, in unison, they raised their long fingers and blasted each other at point blank range. Harry winced imagining what that impact must have felt like. After one blast, all the elves put their fingers down and assessed the damage by looking at their immaculate togas. Then some hidden signal directed them to blast each other again. Throughout this strange round of battle, both rows of elves remained stoic, even when hit.

"Is this some sort of game for the elves we're just finding out about?"

"No," Hermione was indignant. "This is a very important elfin ritual - they are fighting for their masters, just like they clean for their masters and cook for them. It's an honor battle."

"Um." He had a million questions.

"Let's start at the beginning," Ron said. "Dobby said they noticed a crack in the kitchen floor this morning. Happy was very upset and wouldn't speak to anyone." Ron rolled his eyes. "Not like the other elves missed his sparkling personality."

"Ron!"

"Anyway, after the alarm was raised, Happy cracked. He told Dobby he knew of a plan to infiltrate Hogwarts by elves. Because he was related to many of these Death Eater elves, he told them how to enter Hogwarts undetected. Apparently, there is an entrance to the Chamber from under the lake."

Ron paused. "Harry, Norbert wasn't going after the Giant Squid this winter- Durmstrang flew another boat to Hogwarts that night - What did you call it?" he asked Hermione.

"A submarine," she said grimly. "They dropped into the lake and sailed around until they found the entrance.

"How do you know this?" he asked.

"Because we found the submarine," Neville said. "It's beached in the other tunnel connected to the Chamber."

"Where's another entrance?" Harry asked since he had thought the Chamber self-contained when he fought the Basilisk.

"Across the way," Neville pointed. "We never would have found it if it hadn't been open already."

Harry craned to see the wall perpendicular to Salazar Slytherin's statue, and sure enough there was an opening similar to theirs and standing in that opening was another knot of students - including Ginny.

He spotted her red hair right away - and his sweatshirt. She must have felt his presence because she turned at the same time and looked directly into his eyes. He felt her pull him across the room with her glance. Smiling in relief, he felt their reunion was complete - even though they hadn't said a word.

"How did they end up of over there?" Harry asked, noticing Theodore Nott, Ernie MacMillan, Terry Boot and many others.

"They were studying the ceiling when the strange elves Apparated in," Luna answered.

"I thought the elves came in the submarine?" Harry asked.

"We don't know who came in that ship," Hermione said worriedly. "That's what we were doing - trying to find if anyone was hiding."

"And then the strange elves came," Neville continued.

"We didn't know if they were going to attack us or not," Ron added. "But Dobby stood in front of us and snapped his fingers. Then the Hogwarts elves appeared. They shoved us to the closest doorway and they've been at it ever since."

"I thought Happy was on the other side. What changed his mind?" He couldn't imagine Happy having an attack of conscience.

"It's what they did to Hogwarts - all this Bundimun they spread," Ron answered. "Gave a stirring speech, our Happy did."

"He said, 'Bad house-elves to harm a house!'" Ron imitated Happy's gravely tones. "'Happy cannot serve two masters! Hogwarts is master of Happy - not family!'"

"He would have let them kill us in our beds," Neville said dryly. "But don't bring in Bundimun."

"Well, I thought it was noble of him to finally see the light," Hermione said stoutly. "That's his brother he's fighting."

The strange tin soldier dueling continued.

"So what are we supposed to do?" Harry asked. "Can't we fight against the elves?"

"No!" Hermione looked horrified. "This is about honor."

"Well I don't see what all the worry is. The Hogwarts elves appear to be winning," Neville said. It was true. The Death Eater elves didn't appear to be injured, but many pointed their fingers to the floor and stood motionless. Soon there were only two Death Eater elves still dueling.

"How do they know when they're out of the duel?" Neville wondered aloud.

"Look at their togas - when they have six spots - it looks like they're out," Hermione answered, never taking her eyes off the elves.

When the last Death Eater elf was vanquished, the row of strange elves bowed to their counterparts, heads scrapping the floor, so they all looked to be wearing green hats when they finally straightened and Disapparated.

The students rushed into the Chamber again. "Dobby! Is that it?" Hermione asked urgently. "Will they be back?"

Dobby gazed blankly at her and shook his head.

"Good one Dobby!" Ron said enthusiastically. "The Hogwarts Elves showed them whose boss."

The elves looked distinctly uncomfortable at this praise. Dobby spoke up. "Hogwarts Elves only fighting for our house. Death Eater Elves must punish themselves for this. This is a sad day for all elves."

Silence descended on the Chamber.

"Well," Neville said brightly, "at least the elves can get this Bundimun cleaned up before Hogwarts falls into the lake."

"This isn't ordinary Bundimun," Theordore Nott spoke up. "We've been looking at it - it doesn't smell right for one thing."

"Course it doesn't smell right," Ron retorted. "It stinks. I didn't realize there were nuances to foul stenches."

"There are," Nott said, "and this doesn't smell foul enough. We should all be passed out from the smell by now."

"And the rate it's eating is quite high," Terry Boot spoke up with a frown. "Since we've been down here, that column has been reduced by an inch, I'd say." He was pointing to one of the serpentine columns holding up the Chamber ceiling.

"Do you think it will collapse?" Neville asked anxiously.

"Unless we do something - yes," Terry answered seriously. "And it's not just that column, the ceilings in all of the tunnels are terribly cracked.

It was all too easy to imagine those columns twisting and buckling under the strain of holding up that heavy stone ceiling. The noise would be heard from miles around as the one floor slammed into the next as the building collapsed. Yet, Harry tried to remind himself, this castle is magic. Surely it wouldn't follow the laws of Muggle building.

He glanced over at Ginny who seemed so far away. She was looking worriedly at the ceiling like the rest of them. The room didn't have the same memories for her, Harry reasoned, since she was unconscious for his fight with the Basilisk and Tom Riddle. For that he was truly grateful. He looked up at the statue of Salazar Slytherin, the only surface untouched by Bundimun. The snake had come right out its mouth . . .

Fear seized him as he remembered the horror of that sight. Tearing his eyes away, he latched his gaze on to Ginny. She was staring straight at him, her browed furrowed. Taking a deep breath he did his best to push his fear away. Emotions wouldn't help anyone right now.

"I think so too," Ernie MacMillan was saying.

Harry had missed the entire conversation. The students divided again. Harry found himself again separated from Ginny as both groups returned to their doorways.

Terry, Anthony, Michael, Ernie, and Theodore Nott stood at points in front of the statue. At Ernie's nod, they drew their wands and attached shimmering ropes of gold to the statue. They were moving that great monolith, inch by inch to prop up the ceiling.

Hermione was solving mid-air equations as fast as she could. "To the left!" Hermione shouted tensely at one point, never taking her eyes off the graph hanging in front of her.

At one point the statue pitched forward, almost crushing Ernie and Michael, but the elves rushed in with their strength. Slowly, slowly they trundled it next to the trembling column. The column suddenly let go. Stones, dust, and fungus rained down. But the ceiling held - the fourth founder was holding up the school he left so long ago.

The Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs, Gryffindors, and the lone Slytherin took a minute to congratulate each other. "All that speculation about trajectories of charm work paid off," Ernie said admiringly to the Ravenclaws.

Harry looked at the niche where the statue had resided for a thousand years. Behind it was a hollow where the Basilisk had nested. It was worn smooth by the Bundimun and no traces of anything alive were left. Ironically, the Death Eaters had wiped Hogwarts clean of the worst parts of Salazar Slytherin.

Suddenly, they heard a faint rustling from above, like the flapping of many wings. Then to their horror, the black bunting began to move, and what appeared to be blankets, fluttered to the floor. Once descended, they lost their cloth-like appearance and took on life. One end of the blanket sucked the ground, then the middle, and then the other end; so snake-like they propelled them selves along the floor, leaving a trail of the goo Malfoy had left behind at Christmas. But it wasn't what the blankets were doing to the floor that horrified them. It was what the blankets did when they landed on a living thing.

One landed on Clover, the elf in charge of making butter. The blanket molded itself tightly around the small body - and then the shape of the elf was no more. The blanket flattened itself on the floor and then searched for more prey.

"Holy Mother of Merlin!" Anthony shouted. "They're lethifolds!"

The deadly living shroud of the tropics was here at Hogwarts - and in great numbers.

"Shield Charms over your heads!" Ron shouted.

"The Patronus charm is the only thing that repels them!" Ernie yelled as they all took out their wands.

Jets of silver, some in the shapes of animals, attacked the flat writhing creatures. "Herd them into that niche!" Ron called. Harry watched as his stag cantered around a group of lethifolds, kicking them with his hooves. A spitting goose went after another one. Lions, bears, dogs and birds all pushed the blankets into the wall.

It appeared that they had contained the menace when another lethifold descended from the ceiling toward Hermione. When Ron pushed her away, it entangled him. He struggled mightily as he dropped to the ground and rolled. The top of his head was visible and his feet. They could see rays of silver coming from under the smothering blanket as Ron tried to free himself with his own Patronus. A snarling otter leaped on top of the lethifold, clawing and biting. Luna's eagle tugged at one end, Harry's stag on the other.

With a horrible ripping sound, Ron was finally free. When he sat up they could see that he had huge welts all over his back and chest where the Lethifold had dissolved his robes. But other than those painful marks, he was unharmed. Hermione was kneeling next to him, holding him tightly, her face buried in his neck. Luna quickly put a Freezing Charm on his back, to alleviate the pain.

"Those are going to get worse, I'm afraid," she said in a quiet voice to Harry, Ginny and Neville. "We have to get something to neutralize the residue."

"Is this the same stuff Snape was trying to find a way to dissolve?" Neville asked.

"I think so," Luna replied, looking at the clear blisters of goo stuck to Ron's back. "It looks the same."

"The only thing that worked was the sap from my plant," Neville said. "And even that didn't dissolve it completely."

"It's better than nothing," Luna murmered. "Go get it will, you?"

"Have you gone mad?" Neville snorted. "We're miles under the school with no way to get back up from what I can tell."

"Just do the Summoning Charm," Luna said matter-of-factly.

"We're miles under the school."

"Snape's dungeons are closest to the entrance here." Luna shrugged. "Just Summon the beaker of sap, we won't need the entire plant."

Neville opened his mouth to argue against the futility of such a plan, and then closed it again.

"Neville," Luna said gently, "Ginny was the only one who could open the Chamber - and you are the only one with enough knowledge of that plant sap to call it. Just try - there may be others who need it. We don't know how long we can keep those lethifolds contained."

He nodded, raised his wand in the air, and then screwed his face in concentration. "Accio Sap!" They waited for a least a minute. "I reckon it didn't work," he said in a resigned voice. "Sorry, Ron."

Ron nodded, his mouth a thin line of white. Then they heard a faint tinkling, as if glasses were being clinked; in zoomed Neville's beaker of orange sap.

"The Imperturbable Charm kept it from breaking on the way down," Hermione said in a relieved voice. "Good show, Neville."

Neville, flushed and proud, removed the charm and handed it to Luna. "This is from what part of the flower?" Luna asked.

"Blossom. When it hiccupped that came out. It's different than the green sap from the leaves," he added to Harry who certainly remembered that feature of the mimbulas Mimbletonia.

Luna waved her fellow Ravenclaws over, while Theodore Nott, the Hufflepuffs, and most of the Gryffindors, kept watch over the lethifolds in the niche.

The Ravenclaws began to discuss the best way to use the sap. Hermione stayed out of the discussion choosing to direct her attention to Ron. Harry felt this was a chance to see how Ginny was faring. "Are you ok?" He asked noticing for the first time that the sleeve of her sweatshirt was ripped. "How did that happen?"

"The edge of one of those lethifolds snapped at me." She replied. "It didn't go all the way through to the skin though. What's happening?" she asked in an unsteady voice. "I was never so glad when I saw you were here safe and sound."

"I don't really know. There's a Dark Mark over Hogsmeade and they've set dragons on Hogwarts." He still couldn't bring himself to talk about the dragon battle he had witnessed. "How did you ever open the Chamber?"

Her eyes clouded. "I didn't want to. I never go in that bathroom for that reason. But Theodore Nott told me that I might as well use that incident with Tom Riddle for good."

Harry took her hand in sympathy. He could imagine Ginny's reluctance and Theodore Nott's common sense approach.

"I didn't think I could speak Parseltongue," she said with big eyes. "I hate that he is still with me."

He squeezed her hand, knowing just how she felt. It was never easy to face the shadows. But Theodore Nott was right; it was better to use your experiences rather than deny them.

"Potter!" We need you and your moose over here," Nott called, keeping a gimlet eye on the lethifolds. It appeared they were trying to hook together. Harry shuddered to think how they would ever fight such a beast.

He sprinted over to the other end of the Chamber, assuming Ginny was following. But when he turned to see where she was, his heart froze at the sight. Goblins were melting through the walls of the Chamber, at least a dozen of them - with Draco Malfoy.

"We thought of something better than short-sheeting your bed, Nott." Malfoy sneered. "Perhaps you might like some blankies. They have been here growing since winter. Since we crossed them with Bundimun, they can survive any climate." He looked around negligently. "I see they ate their keepers." He shrugged. "Those wizards died knowing they were going to take this school down."

Someone from Ron's group hurtled a Stunner. One of the goblins deflected it with his hand. "Oh, no," Malfoy declared. "We're not playing those games." He said something in Gobbledegook to one of the goblins, who promptly disappeared.

Harry looked frantically around. Where had the goblin gone?

Then the goblin appeared next to Ginny, touched her on the shoulder with his long fingered hand and then they both melted into thin air.

Harry had barely registered his horror when he heard Malfoy taunting voice.

"Come and get her Potter," Malfoy said with a satisfied smile. "We'll be waiting."

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Chapter 20: I Choose You

A/N: Just a warning that the reactions I have gotten from this chapter have all included an "OMG" concerning one scene. Not to worry, the language, etc. . . are all appropriate for a PG-13 rating and there is little violence. I tried to write this so the reader connects the dots, rather than writing something explicit. Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish, Julu, and hairy_hen.

Chapter 19: I Choose You

Ginny was gone. The goblin had touched her shoulder and the two of them melted away. Harry stared at the spot where she had been just seconds ago.

Draco and the other goblins had also vanished. The green slime eating at Hogwarts was still there. The lethifolds were still corralled in the Basilisk's niche. Everything was the same - except Ginny was gone.

Everyone began to talk at once, in panicked tones.

"Harry!" Hermione's voice cut through everyone else's. "You have to go after her!"

He looked at her blankly. "I don't know where they took her."

"Yes you do. That dream - remember? The numbers."

"Seven-seven-seven," he recited stupidly. "That still doesn't -" Then it hit him. Goblins ran Gringotts and Gringotts had vaults with numbers. "She's at Gringotts," he breathed.

Ron staggered over, wincing with the pain of the lethifold stings. "Harry, it's probably a trap."

Harry nodded. Of course it was trap.

"But we don't know if it's Malfoy's trap or You-Know-Who's." Ron looked at him steadily. "The Malfoy's want to get back at our family -"

But Hermione interrupted before Harry could open his mouth. "Harry has to go because he is the only one who can leave here." She looked at Harry, her mouth set in a firm line. "Dumbledore taught you that charm so you could leave Hogwarts. Amor Fati - remember what that means."

He did remember. He had to love this life - this fate that put his loved ones in danger but also gave him the power to do something about it. He was going, of course - that had never been the issue. But he was going with resolve and a clear-eyed knowledge of what could possibly happen. He could die, Ginny could die, but if that was his fate, so be it - maybe he could take Voldemort down at the same time.

He looked around at Ron and Hermione and his fellow students. They were all capable; they didn't need him to keep the lethifolds at bay or to keep the school from falling down. Ginny needed him and he was going to her.

Before he could change his mind, he nodded and called Hedwig, who appeared in a pouf of feathers. "Amor Fati," he cried.

As soon as the pain in his chest subsided, light particles moved rapidly before his eyes, dazzling him. Within the movement he saw color - all colors if that were possible - broken into moving fragments, which shimmered in rapid oscillation. Then the fragments came together briefly and Harry saw faces. So many faces - and they were all familiar: his first teacher, the man who cut his hair, the greengrocer down the street, Uncle Vernon's co-workers, the milkman. They all passed before his eyes in rapid succession.

Almost imperceptibly, the particles slowed as he saw fellow students from Hogwarts, the salesclerks from Diagon Alley, the lady with the sweet cart on the Hogwarts Express. The particles slowed and he was able to register each face beyond a glimpse. There were his classmates, his dorm mates, Cho Chang, his teammates, his professors, Lupin, Dumbledore, the Weasley family, Hermione, Ron, and finally . . . the particles rearranged themselves and stopped. The face that stayed still in his mind was Ginny's.

He fell hard on the floor. When he opened his eyes he also saw jewel bright colors, but these were the colors of the Oriental rug on Bill Weasley's office floor. He had made it to Gringotts. Wincing, he stood up, hating the pain in his chest. He always felt so breathless and weak after doing the charm - although this vision had been a beautiful one of all his people on earth. He hadn't seen anyone dead, which must be a good omen. Ginny must be alive - she had to be - he wasn't going to think any other way.

He praised Hedwig, who was soaring around the office, looking at her surroundings. Harry knew he couldn't wander around Gingotts himself. It was after hours and it appeared the entire wizarding world was under attack. There was no reason to think that Bill would be here at all. As he berated himself for such poor planning, he saw a mug of tea on Bill's desk. He touched the side of the cup - it was still warm - Bill must be here somewhere.

With new hope, he started pacing, anxiously trying not to think about Ginny. He didn't have long to block those thoughts, because Bill came striding into the office within minutes. "Harry! What's happening?"

"Goblins took Ginny - with Draco Malfoy."

Bill blanched. "Did they say anything?"

"No- Malfoy just said I'd know where she was." Then he added. "She's in vault seven-seven-seven."

"How do you know?"

"Dream - the only one I've had connecting me to Voldemort since Sirius." He prayed Bill would believe him.

"What did the goblin do to Ginny?"

"Touched her on the shoulder. And then it was like she melted into thin air." He hated the trembling in his voice.

Bill shut his eyes briefly. "That's how they Apparate." He took a deep breath. "I didn't think they would go to . . ." He shook his head as if to clear his thoughts. "We have one chance to get to that vault if the goblins have indeed gone to the other side. I have a goblin friend I'd trust with my life. He can steer the cart for us. That number is in goblin's only section. As it is, I don't know if he can open it. Or what will happen if we run into another goblin. But we have to try it."

Bill went to his desk and put his hand on a long rectangular stone, which resembled a telephone rendered in concrete. The stone glowed blue.

Instantly, a goblin appeared behind Harry. He jumped, frightened for a moment by the silent Apparition.

"Picktoe," Bill addressed the goblin and then launched into a long speech in Gobbledegook. The goblin listened intently, with no expression on his face. Then he said a few words.

"Right." Bill nodded and then motioned for Harry to follow him out the door.

"Hedwig too?"

"I don't see why not."

They went down the lushly carpeted corridor to sliding doors, which in a Muggle building would be the entrance to the lift. When the doors opened for this lift, there was a cart to sit in, much like the train car he had used to go to his own vault.

They climbed in with the goblin sitting in front. (Or was it the back? There was no way to tell.) With a wave of Picktoe's long-fingered hands, the car dropped like a stone. Harry braced himself for the horrible impact when they finally touched bottom. Down, down they went, with his stomach left somewhere back in Bill's office. It was very dark, which added to his sense of falling into an abyss. To his dismay, he could feel bile rising into his throat. Now he could only think of trying not to be sick. When he thought his body could take no more, they slowed and came to a sudden jerky stop.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm his stomach and his nerves. Before he could wonder if Hedwig had been able to follow them down the shaft, he felt her claws gently grip his shoulder. Bill's breathing sounded muffled since they were in the darkest, most silent place he had ever encountered. The smell of damp earth became evident. He reached out but felt nothing but thin air. He didn't dare move from the cart in all that darkness.

Picktoe said something and suddenly three sevens glowed softly in front of him. "That's the vault," Bill murmured in his ear.

Harry was wondering how they were ever going to open it when a blinding light appeared.

"I knew you'd come."

Harry didn't need to see who it was. He knew the voice of Lucius Malfoy. His hand went to his wand.

"Oh you won't need that for treasure hunting," Malfoy said. "That is why you're here. Correct? I have something you want, something you value."

The door to the vault slid open. "Go ahead Potter - she's in there."

Harry stood stiffly and climbed over the side of the cart. He turned to see Bill being held back by two goblins. Picktoe was also restrained. "Bill?"

"Don't worry," he said firmly. "I know too many things for them to kill me outright." He looked with scorn at Lucius Malfoy. "When you get her out of here, tell Ginny hello."

Harry remembered how Bill said the same thing that night he came back to find Ginny waiting for him in the common room. His stomach lurched more painfully than it had on the way down in the cart.

"Right this way," Lucius said with exaggerated politeness. He glanced at the white owl on Harry's shoulder, but didn't say anything.

Vault seven-seven-seven was quite large, about the size of the Gryffindor common room. Instead of holding piles of galleons or bars of gold, this vault held nothing but mirrors. There were seven arranged in a semi-circle. They were larger than the mirror of Erised, but were in elaborate footed frames, like the one from Hogwarts. Hedwig circled the room, and then landed on top of one of the mirrors.

Harry turned to Lucius Malfoy who was flanked by goblins. "Where is she?" he spat out.

"Manners, Potter. If you're asking questions, please and thank you are essential." Lucius smiled evilly. "I really don't know where she is. Why don't you ask Draco?"

Draco stepped out from behind one of the mirrors.

Anger as he hadn't felt since Umbridge's detentions surged through his body. He wanted to throttle that pale throat until he wiped that smug expression off that pointy face. So intent was he on Draco, that he barely noticed the chair thrust under him so that his knees buckled. He fell heavily on to the wooden seat and then ropes quickly wrapped around him, immobilizing him from his shoulders to his feet.

"You will recognize this type of mirror, Potter. The Dark Lord remembered your abilities with retrieval when you foiled him from obtaining the Philosopher's Stone." Lucius stood in front of him. "But these mirrors only bear a superficial resemblence to the Mirror of Erised. An innocent child of eleven might work them - but not a sixteen year old boy looking for his girlfriend. You'll never overcome your hormones to get her out."

Harry wondered how the Malfoys could possibly know Ginny was his girlfriend. "Pansy told me," Draco said, as if reading his mind. "Your little slut got her kicked out of Hogwarts - she was only too glad to tell me that the best way to get to you was to take Weasley and not that cow Granger. When I saw her wearing that ratty old sweatshirt of yours, I knew it was true."

To Harry's horror, he held up his old sweatshirt. "See - she's here - in one of these mirrors."

"What did you do to her?" If they hurt one hair on her head . . .

"Nothing," Draco said. "She's locked away with no key. And now so are you. You'll never get her out."

"And even if you do," Lucius continued. "You'll never get out of this vault before the Dark Lord finishes his other, more important business, and comes to deal with you himself."

Lucius put his face in front of Harry's. There was a mad gleam in his eye that frightened Harry more than his words. "How I itched to kill that girl - Arthur Weasley's precious daughter - the seventh child. I tried once . . ." His mouth twisted. "And how I itch to kill you, Potter. Azkaban is not a pretty place . . .." Now his right eye was twitching. Harry watched the muscle leap with repulsed fascination. "But the Dark Lord wants the pleasure of torturing and killing you himself. He wants you fresh . . . so you'll last a while. But oh, how I ache to . . . hurt you . . ."

Harry had never seen hate as he saw it in the senior Malfoy's eyes; he was completely unhinged.

Lucius straightened abruptly and pulled out his wand. "It's time to activate the mirrors and leave you here to your tantalizing torture. She's so close, yet so far - and oh yes - which mirror is she in?"

With a wave of his wand, the mirrors fogged and then began to clear. Harry heard Draco snigger and then he saw his desires in the mirror, multiplied by seven. There were his daydreams, his fantasies, and his most intimate thoughts of Ginny- on display for his worst enemies to see . . .

Draco was looking. That angry thought consumed him. How dare his filthy eyes look at her! He wanted to throw himself in front of her, to protect her from this humiliation.

"I'd do her." Draco smirked.

Red exploded in his brain. Although bound to the chair, the force of his anger surged all through him and then left his body. He was only slightly surprised when he hit Draco with a powerful Stunner, even though his wand was still in his back pocket. His rage should have detonated the entire vault.

Draco hit the floor with a thud. "I'd best take that wand," Lucius said calmly. "Expelliarmus!"

Harry's wand rose into air, and went to Malfoy's outstretched hand. "Ouch!" He dropped it like it was a hot poker. Harry felt a savage pleasure in the red welt that appeared on his palm.

"Enough of this!" He motioned to one of the goblins who touched the unconscious Draco on the shoulder. Both boy and goblin disappeared.

Lucius looked at the images of Harry and Ginny. "I see your firmly heterosexual, Potter. But you're a bit . . . vanilla in your tastes. Too bad you won't live long enough to experience the more. . varied pleasures of life."

Right then he wanted to be a Basilisk so he could kill that man with his eyes.

"Enjoy the show." He looked at the mirrors one last time and smiled. "Sorry we can't leave your hands free."

The door slid shut. Hedwig flew agitatedly around the room. Harry closed his eyes and tried to not to think about how he had betrayed Ginny with his thoughts. He should have done Occulemency; he shouldn't have looked in the mirrors at all . . .

Hedwig's clucking brought him back to reality. Ignoring the mirrors, he pushed his guilt away. He had to go step by step - even if Voldemort was on his way from whatever horror he was perpetuating, Harry knew he had a little time - and he was going to use it to his full advantage. His wand was lying on the stone floor two feet away from him. If he could get the wand, then he could free himself from this chair.

"Hedwig - can you bring me my wand?"

Hedwig complied, swooping down to clamp the wand in her beak. The problem was that Harry had no way to take it from her since his hands were securely tied. "Hedwig, put the wand on my shoulder, so the tip touches the rope," he directed, hoping against hope he could muster up enough emotion to do more wandless magic.

He concentrated with all his might on the Severing Charm - letting himself feel the fear, anger, and humiliation of the past half hour. He wanted to cut himself loose from all of those emotions as badly as he wanted to cut himself lose from this chair . . .

Fiber by fiber, he could feel the rope letting go . . . fraying and raveling so that it could no longer hold him. He was free, in more ways then one.

Rubbing his arms where the coarse rope had bound him, he went and stood in front of the mirrors. All his physical desires were still there, but without witnesses, he no longer felt exposed or guilty. This was how he felt, he knew - but he also knew that this was not the only way he felt about Ginny.

He thought back to that night they had spent together and how he realized he loved her. It was easy to feel again the tenderness of that moment, the connection he had felt with her. Looking at the two of them, he realized that this didn't have to be a one-way mirror. She was alive - somewhere - she wasn't just some dead stone - and she loved him too.

"Ginny," he whispered. "Tell me where you are." The mirrors started to fog again, then the colors swirled. His heart leapt when he saw her. She was huddled on a stone floor, just like the one in the vault. She was wearing the Days of Destiny t-shirt Hermione had bought for her. Other than her hair looking untidier in her ponytail, she appeared unharmed.

She must have seen him too, because she moved toward him. "Harry." It was her voice, but it was multiplied by seven. He had no idea which mirror she was in. Frantically he looked from one to the other, trying to detect the faintest difference. But he couldn't find one variation. There was no way to tell by looking. He closed his eyes trying to think.

"Ginny - talk to me - tell me what mirror you're in."

"I don't know," she answered. "Six other Ginnys in quick succession, answered, " I don't know" "I don't know." That phrase echoed mockingly off the stone walls.

If he could only determine what direction the first voice came from. "Keep talking. Maybe I can find you eventually."

"Harry, help me."

"Harry, help me."

It was repeated six times.

Six times - not seven. The false Ginnys were pleading in a way Ginny never would. His Ginny, the real Ginny, hadn't initiated that.

"Ginny, say something only you would say, that only I would understand."

"I love you, Harry."

"I love you, Harry."

While he heart turned over at hearing those words - in her voice - he knew Ginny didn't say them. She wasn't ready.

Then he heard a name whispered so quietly he almost missed it. "Roderick?"

He froze, not breathing.

"Roderick?" This time it was clear.

His heart sped up. "Fiona?"

All the Ginnys looked confused except for the third one from the left. Not quite believing he had found her, he went on trembling legs to that mirror and sank to his knees in front of it. He put one spread hand on the surface and she matched hers to his. With that gesture he knew he had found her.

Sighing in relief he put his forehead on the mirror briefly. He had found her - he hadn't failed her like he failed Sirius. Now he knew he could rescue her again, just as he had done once before. Years ago he had chosen to go after Ginny with the unconscious heart of a boy, this time he spoke from an awakened heart. "I chose you," he said, "every - "

He didn't finish, because improbably, gloriously, the surface vanished and her hand touched his. She pitched forward on to him, knocking him on his back. Her weight was the most welcome thing he had ever felt. She was safe in his arms.

They clung together for a few moments on the hard floor of the vault.

"Are you all right?" he asked, worried that she felt so cold.

"I'm ok, but Mirror World is freezing," she said, shivering. She spotted the sweatshirt crumpled next to the mirrors; and rolled off of Harry to retrieve it. "Draco was here, I see."

"And Lucius Malfoy," he said grimly, watching her don the sweatshirt. He stood up quickly as a new thought came to mind. "And Voldemort is due any minute to finish me off."

"Where are we?" she asked looking around, still shivering somewhat.

"Gringotts, vault seven-seven-seven."

"Your dream! It was from Voldemort."

"I'm glad I had it, otherwise I wouldn't have had a clue . . ." he trailed off, not wanting to think about how he ever would have found her.

"But you did," she said, putting her arms around his waist. "How are we supposed to get out of here? I don't suppose they left a key?"

"No," he answered. "Bill knows we're here. But . . ." He hesitated to tell her. "The goblins have sided with Voldemort - Bill wasn't sure which side they were on until tonight. He and his friend Picktoe were caught with me . . ."

"Oh no!" Ginny looked at him apprehensively. "Do you think they'll hurt them?"

"I don't know - goblins are hard to read. And they were speaking in Gobbldegook."

"Gringotts loves Bill, and Picktoe has been to the Burrow many times - and other goblins too . . ."

He could see how she was trying to talk herself into an optimistic frame of mind. "We don't know what's happening, so it's best to just concentrate on what we have to do." The minute he said it, he realize anew just how hopeless it was.

Her eyes widened. "How do we get out? You can't Apparate out of a Gringott's vault."

"But Hedwig can."

"Yes! We can send a message."

"We could, but I don't know who to send it to - if the goblins have gone to Voldemort's side and if Bill is apprehended . . ." he trailed off. He could leave - maybe - if he used the Chrysalis Charm - but he'd be leaving Ginny at the mercy of Voldemort. Or if he stayed and tried to fight his way out, they could both be killed. He tried not to think of Cedric lying motionless on the ground while he fought Voldemort.

Hedwig suddenly started to fly in circles and swooping towards the door as she passed it. Harry strained his ears. In the absolute silence of this underground world, the slightest sound took on new meaning. What if Voldemort was on his way?

Ginny stared at him. He had to get her out. What if he performed the Chrysalis Charm on her and sent her with Hedwig? He didn't know if that would work and the first thing they taught you about magic was not to try something you didn't have knowledge about.

Then he remembered what Hermione had said about the Charm being performed on two people at the same time. It had been done once. Maybe it could be done again.

"Ginny, do you remember what Hermione told us about the Chrysalis Charm - that it had been done once on two people?"

Hope dawned in her eyes. "Right!"

"But there could be problems," he added, determined that Ginny know just what she was getting in to. "I don't know if I can do it, for one - and for another - it's kind of a scary . . . place."

"But it's all you - right? I'm not afraid of you - unless you think that part of me that could speak Parseltongue - that Tom Riddle side - would somehow find . . ."

"Voldemort," he said flatly. He could just imagine the size of the snake that would come looming out of the darkness of the shadows. It couldn't hurt them physically - or could it?

She regarded him worriedly, but took his hand in a firm grip. "We'll be together. That has to mean something."

"What if we don't go together right? Or we can't separate? I mean this Charm is a lot like Apparating."

She smiled a little. "Maybe I'll get your flying skills."

"I don't think red hair is really my look."

"We have to do this," she said seriously.

"I know." He took a deep breath. "Put your arms around me." He took out his wand and for the second time that day he said, "Amor Fati."

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Chapter 21: Red Is The Heart

A/N: Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish, Nic 83 and Julu.

Chapter 20: Red Is The Heart

A million thoughts went through Harry's mind as he raised his wand to do the Chrysalis Charm. He knew it could go terribly wrong, and even if it worked perfectly, it could mean terrible visions for Ginny. Coming to accept his own terrifying shadows didn't mean that Ginny should have to do that as well.

Then he looked at the top of her head; noticing again how the vivid red warmed the gloom in this dark vault. A wave of hope went through him - if anyone could illuminate the blackest regions of his heart, she could.

As the charm took effect, Harry felt the familiar tug at his chest and then he was pulled into a world of soft light and warm water. He found himself floating in silky, turquoise water. The light was golden, tinged with green as it filtered through the palm fronds surrounding this primordial pool. He had never been here, but he felt he belonged, as the tranquility of the place seeped into his very bones.

The water began to move slowly, counter-clockwise. He drifted with the current and saw Ginny. Her hair was darkly wet and slicked back from her forehead. Beads of water dripped from her lashes. She smiled; she belonged here too. The water gently brushed their bodies together and entwined their limbs.

Their mouths met with the taste of salt on their lips. The water slowly swirled around them, reminding him of the kiss on the roundabout so long ago in Hogsmeade. But this time, they were the center. Their bodies merged in motion with the tidal energy; and he felt the pleasure of movement, the pleasure of life itself. Faster, the light whirled around them until the colors of their surroundings were pulled into streaks of gold and green across his eyes.

The motion slowed and stilled and the world was hushed and tranquil yet again. Soon there was music - golden, glorious tones, which vibrated within and around them. Still in each other's arms, they were dancing in a circle of torchlight. Ginny was wearing the dress from the Christmas feast - but it was white like her nightgown - and her hair was up. She was smiling into his eyes and she was beautiful. Happiness welled inside of him and spread outward until they were surrounded by the joy of their friends watching them dance.

All too soon, the music grew softer, the light dimmed and the dance slowed.

The sound of a cold, clear breeze filled his ears. They were flying on a broom, slowly circling upwards toward the red sky of sunset, free from the snow-covered earth below. The burden of their bodies lightened as they turned in tighter and tighter circles. They were weightless and free in the crimson light that shimmered into orange and then diffused into copper. So closely wedded were they, that he could only feel her smooth cheek against his, as they were lifted ever higher.

They floated peacefully in the warm, quiet, copper light until it flickered into bronze. He couldn't see Ginny anymore, but he was unafraid. They belonged here too. She was there and so was he - they were more than they had ever been before. And he was happier than he had ever been before. They quivered and stilled, fused together in glorious gold light. He wanted to stay here forever. Only one word was left . . . and that word was -

*

They landed hard on a carpeted floor. Harry dimly noticed Hedwig flying overhead and that Ginny was lying on top of him, apparently unharmed. When she moved away, he was overcome by a searing pain in his chest, which was very different from the usual ache the charm caused.

"Harry!" Ginny's voice sounded panicked and from a great distance although her face was only inches from his. "Something's gone wrong."

"Are you ok?" He managed to ask.

"I'm fine - you did it. We're in Bill's office. But your chest -"

Soft darkness closed in. Ginny was fine. He was so tired, and it was peaceful here. Just as peaceful as it had been with her during the charm. That gold light - he wanted to be the gold . . .

He heard her voice say. "Don't be dead, Harry. Please, don't be dead."

Ginny doesn't want me to die, he thought, even though it wouldn't hurt to die. It hurts to live. But I won't die if Ginny doesn't want me to.

*

"Don't worry, lovey," a woman's voice said. "He's coming around. We've got him all sealed up again."

He opened one eye, trying to ignore the heavy ache in his chest.

"Don't tire him out, mind. He's lost a lot of blood and will need his rest." He could hear padded footsteps retreating down the corridor.

"Harry?"

"Ginny?" he asked through dry lips. His voice sounded weak, even to his own ears. "What -?"

"You're in St. Mungo's." Her hand caressed his face. "The charm worked except for the end. Your heart - it didn't close all the way." Her voice broke. "I got you here and they mended it. You're going to be all right."

"Hogwarts?"

"I don't know. I've been with you the entire time. There's been a lot of bloodshed in London - the hospital is full."

"Stay . . ."

"Of course."

*

When he woke again, morning sun was streaking through the windows. Ginny was curled up in a squishy chair with a blanket over her. Next to her, also asleep, was Bill Weasley.

Harry tried to put it all together in his mind. The last time he had seen Bill he was being led away by the goblins.

Bill woke with a start and then noticed Harry staring at him. "Hey," he whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"Hungry."

A smile broke through the weariness on Bill's face. "Mum always said that was a good sign."

"I thought -" He struggled to sit up, dismayed at his weakness. "I thought the goblins had gone to Voldemort's side."

"That's what Lucius Malfoy thought too." Bill's smile was satisfied. "They double-crossed him. Seems he doesn't understand the nuances of Gobbledegook. I thought I had misread some signals - but they were laying their own trap for him and when you showed up so unexpectedly, they had to go to plan B - which I knew nothing about."

"Did he escape?"

"No - and neither did Draco. They have a father-son cell in Azkaban."

Harry was almost afraid to ask. "Voldemort?"

Bill grew serious. "They had quite a battle at Hogsmeade. Our side inflicted more damage than theirs - but that's not good enough. We lost some members, Harry."

The pain in his heart grew. "Who?"

Bill listed five names; all people Harry had met while learning to Apparate. Some were young and some were old - but none of them deserved to die. They sat silently for a moment.

Then Harry's eyes fell on Ginny. "Is she really ok?"

"She is - for someone who doesn't want to be a Healer, she rose to the occasion beautifully. She threw herself over you, which sealed the wound long enough to get you here."

"How did she ever transport me?" Harry puzzled. "She couldn't even go into the corridor from your office. Did she send Hedwig with a message?"

Bill shook his head, and said in an incredulous voice. "No, she was lying on top of you wondering what to do when she noticed the carpet."

"The carpet?"

"It was a flying carpet. Totally illegal of course. I had never noticed it."

"How did Ginny know?"

"Dad told us how to detect one. It's the way the fringe is sewn on. If you can find the label, you just tap it with your wand, and the carpet goes. That's what Ginny did - and you two went right out the window. Hedwig lead the way to St. Mungo's." Bill grinned. "You made quite the stir. I can assure you that you were the only injured one brought in on a carpet."

"And the only one with a gaping hole in his chest," he finished.

"Probably," Bill conceded. "They got you stabilized and then they gave Ginny quite the time about paperwork and proper authorization. But once Percy arrived . . ."

"Percy?"

"Yeah, Penelope works st St. Mungo's. She sent for Percy when she saw how upset Ginny was with all the legal stuff."

"Thanks," he said, suddenly weary. "Tell Percy thanks . . . for taking care of . . . Ginny."

"Mum and Dad are coming by soon."

But Harry was already back to sleep.

*

The next time he woke it was evening, judging by the dim torchlight. In the chairs previously occupied by Bill and Ginny were Fred and George Weasley. They were wide-awake, whispering together.

"Hey."

"Harry! You're finally awake!" Fred was hovering over him.

"Where's Ginny?"

"She had to go back to school," George said. "Mum and Dad didn't want her to miss when classes resume tomorrow. She's been coming everyday to watch you sleep."

"Everyday?" He was horrified. "How long have I been here?"

"A week," Fred answered.

George smiled a little. "It was a good week to have a lie in, believe me. A lot of damage was done - to Hogwarts and Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade. Those were the main battlegrounds."

"Ron and Hermione?" he asked urgently.

"Are fine," Fred answered. "Probably using their free time wisely - studying."

George sniggered. "Or snogging."

Harry relaxed. "Do you know? Was anyone hurt in the Chamber? How did they get out? What did the slime do to the building?"

"No one else was hurt," George assured him. He held up a thick scroll. "Since Hermione writes such detailed letters for Ron we know all about it."

"It seems our favorite Gryffindor Herbologist, the mysterious Slytherin, some Ravenclaw engineers, and some good old fashioned H.E.-P. eliminated the stuff dissolving the Hogwarts foundations," Fred announced. "With some additional bracing and a few enchantments, the castle is again safe for all students to take their exams. McGonagall was most pleased."

"How?"

"You know that mad plant of Neville's?" George asked. "Somehow he Summoned it all the way from the Greenhouse - and then he tickled it so it sprayed the entire Chamber. Then the elves did their thing."

Harry could just imagine Hermione's face at that.

"And that Slytherin knew the incantation to bind those two ingredients together," George continued. "Then they all ran like hell and the Ravenclaws sealed off the Chamber. It made some kind of deadly gas, which killed the lethifolds and the fungus."

"But how did they ever get back up that tunnel?"

"The elves Apparated them to the Great Hall one by one," Fred answered.

"Seems like everyone was improvising last week," George said, looking proud. "That was quite the rescue, Harry."

"She saved my life," he said, for the first time realizing how close to death he had been.

"You saved her first," George said, "- again."

Harry sat up, feeling stronger this time. "I had no choice," he said simply.

"No, I reckon you didn't," Fred said, studying him gravely. "You know, Harry, we know about those mirrors. They have them in some of the not-so-nice clubs in the magical world. They're novelties - you know - you have the dancers look into them and all sorts of mad things show up - sexual fantasies and such. It's not a mirror that looks into the heart - just the mind."

Harry's faced burned. He couldn't imagine how Fred and George would feel if they could have seen some of his thoughts about Ginny. They would not be happy with him.

"You must have made up your mind about Ginny before all this, didn't you?" George asked.

"What do you mean?"

"If she was a mere girlfriend, you never would have gotten her out of that mirror," Fred declared.

"Because your mind wasn't just connected to your . . . body," George said.

What were Fred and George trying to tell him? That they knew he loved Ginny and that they approved?

"We thought those mirrors might have troubled you," Fred said, "being the upstanding, squeaky clean, young wizard you are."

Harry smiled slightly. It wasn't the content of his thoughts that bothered him so much; it was that he had betrayed Ginny. "But I shouldn't have thought those things - I should have done Occulemency . . ." He trailed off.

"It's a mirror, Harry," Fred reminded him. "A magical object. That would be like trying to resist Veritaserum."

He took a deep breath - maybe they were right.

"All those mirrors, full of paint drying," George said with a wink.

"Shocking," Fred intoned, "young people these days."

"What's the world coming to?" Harry murmured, feeling better now that they were teasing him again.

*

Harry stayed at St. Mungo's another week convalescing. Mrs. Weasley came everyday, bringing home-baked goodies to tempt his appetite. She clucked over him like a mother hen, and Harry let her. He was too tired to resist and he felt closer to Ginny when she was there.

Mrs. Weasley thoughtfully provided a pile of old magazines for him to page through. He was particularly amused by Witches Weekly. It was like sitting in on a conversation with an older group of Roses, Jeannes, and Dianes. Between the complicated recipes and the absurd diets, Harry couldn't understand how women could take any of it seriously. He thought about Ginny's reaction to beauty tip number twenty-five, which said: "For sexy ankles, wear two pound weights around them whilst flying and conducting your daily activities." He had never noticed Ginny's ankles, that body part not being on the top ten to notice first, but he was sure they were as attractive as the rest of her.

He missed Ginny terribly. Hedwig had been taken back to Hogwarts so he couldn't even write. He wondered how she was feeling and if her experiences of being wrapped in the charm were similar to his. He tried not to think about it during the day, but at night he dreamed about it . . . almost as if he longed to go back . . . the whole thing had been so wonderfully . . . complete. That was a world he wanted to crawl back into - but he knew if wasn't real.

"You're sleeping too much, Harry," Mrs. Weasley said one day. "This hospital atmosphere isn't good for you."

Harry was concerned about the light of conviction in her eyes. When Ginny looked like that you either had to go along or get out of the way. "I'm going to talk to the Healers."

In the end it was decided that he should return to Hogwarts under Madam Pomfrey's care. Harry perked up as soon as heard. He would see Ginny again. And Ron and Hermione - he hadn't realized how much he missed them too.

*

He took a Portkey to Hogsmeade with Professor Lupin by his side. Harry wondered if he would have the strength to walk up the hill. But once he saw the familiar village he felt the stirrings of excitement. He was coming back to the normal world, and he welcomed it.

Passing by the yarn shop, he thought of Ron and Hermione and wondered how they were doing. But all thought of innocent dates and pleasure trips fled when he saw the damage from the terrible battle of Hogsmeade. There were scorch marks from spellwork, broken windows, and huge divots in the ground. Some businesses still weren't open, and there didn't seem to be as many people on the street.

Lupin was limping slightly, which Harry only noticed on the rough path to Hogwarts. "Professor? Um - were you hurt - at Hogsmeade?" he asked.

"Yes, but my injuries were negligible, compared to . . ." Lupin stopped for a moment and closed his eyes. When he opened them, he looked straight at Harry. "Those Death Eaters- they were kids - teenagers - not all of them - but enough. There was no restraint on their part - no regard for - their own lives or anyone else's. And they were killed in great numbers." His eyes were haunted. "Why children? Why is Voldemort using children?"

Harry stared back in sympathy, feeling a faint stirring of something strong and forceful within. This has to stop, he thought, somehow . . . They continued their journey on the tree-lined path, walking slowly - each with their own thoughts.

*

The towers and turrets of Hogwarts were reflected in the still water of the lake. It was a welcome sight. Harry spotted the blue and green dragons and again felt a pang for Norbert. They paused at the gate, feeling the warmth of the sun on their faces, taking in the scene. The giant squid raised a tentacle out of the water with a small splash, and Harry heard the distant sound of children shouting in playful excitement.

"Ready to go back?" Lupin asked.

He nodded, shook Lupin's hand, and held his gaze for a moment. His professor nodded and gave him a small smile. "Good luck with exams, Harry."

Harry continued up the hill to the castle alone. He looked at his watch and realized with a small lurch in his stomach that Ginny would just be finishing up in the greenhouses. He hadn't seen her for so long - and he didn't know how she would feel when she saw him. Maybe she didn't have the same experience in the charm as he. Maybe she resented the fact that he had to rescue her. Maybe . . .

He had to see her, no matter what. He scrambled down the knoll to the path, pausing in his tracks when he saw the door of the greenhouse opening. Diane and Jeanne were first out, with Jeanne talking a mile a minute. Then Rose followed with Colin, both of them looking unusually somber.

More students filed out until finally, he saw her familiar red hair. She was alone, carrying a load of books and she looked a bit pensive. His heart sped up at seeing her; there didn't seem to be enough air to breathe. She was real - it hadn't all been a dream.

Something made her look in his direction. Her jaw dropped and then a light dawned in her eyes. "Harry!" she cried, dropping her books and running the few yards to him. "Oh, Harry."

He opened his arms and caught her close, feeling her trembling from head to toe. Swallowing a huge lump in his throat, he closed his eyes, wanting only to hold her until they both stopped shaking. He knew it was possible to be overcome by grief, but he never dreamed it was possible to be overcome by happiness.

When this wave of emotion had subsided, Ginny pulled away from his damp shirt and sheepishly wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "Well - this was quite the surprise."

He laughed, still holding her comfortably around the waist. "Which part? That I'm awake? Or that I managed to walk from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts?"

"Are you ok now?" she asked, her eyes anxiously searching his face. "I was so worried - you could have . . ."

"I'm fine," he said firmly. "I still have to report to Madam Pomfrey for Strengthening Potions - but I'll make a full recovery. It was that Qudditch injury which complicated things." He stroked her hair. "You saved my life. I don't know how you ever had the presence of mind to notice that it was a flying carpet."

"Oh, Harry." She shuddered. "There was so much blood . . ."

"I'm sorry," he whispered, "it must have been awful for you." He couldn't imagine how he would have felt if he had seen Ginny injured and bleeding.

"I'm just so glad . . ." She trailed off.

"I know," he said. "But we don't have to look back at the what ifs. You did it."

She gave a short laugh and put her arms around his neck. "I did - didn't I?"

He didn't answer. Instead he looked into the clear brown eyes he adored and was compelled to tenderly kiss her mouth. She kissed him back . . . carefully. . . reverently. They had kissed like this once before.

T

"It was real - wasn't it? I felt it again - just now."

Ginny didn't ask what he meant. "We have to find that pool - wherever it is."

"In the hospital I think I was depressed," he said slowly, "because I thought it was just a vision or a wish - but - "

"Professor Dumbledore talked to me," she interrupted him. "He told me that the heart never lies - and the heart knows only what it knows." She looked steadily into his eyes. "It's true."

"Do you mind?" he asked, thinking of how wary Ginny had been all year of getting closer, of how she worried about feeling possessed and out of control.

"Do I mind?" she said indignantly, pulling away. "Which part? That you saved my life? That you opened your heart to me - literally opened your heart? Or that you wrapped me in a spell so beautiful it hardly seems possible that it ever happened?"

He stared at her flushed face and flashing eyes. She was so incredibly, vibrantly beautiful . . .and he felt the force of her personality warm him from head to toe.

Feeling ridiculously happy, he couldn't help but tease her a bit. "Um, in Witches Weekly there was an article called 'Fighting Fair'."

"Oh, no." She gaped at him for a moment. "Mum brought you all her back copies to read - didn't she? You must have been really bored if you bothered to look through them."

"I learned a lot," he assured her with a grin.

Then she giggled. "So how are we supposed to fight fair?"

"It says you're not supposed to shout, since that may frighten your partner."

"I wasn't -" She started to protest.

"I'm supposed to start my sentences with 'I feel' so it doesn't sound accusatory," he added.

She groaned. "I'm cutting you off from women's magazines. You are a nightmare."

"Ginny, I feel hurt - yet strangely attracted to you - when you call me a nightmare - which is rule number seven - no name calling."

"You feel strangely attracted to me - " she sputtered. Then she threw up her hands. "We'd best go in before I'm late for study group -or," she added with a laugh, "I break any more Fighting Fair rules."

"Yes, dear." He smiled and knelt to pick up her books, thinking how different everything was since they had shared a kiss in this very spot on the second day of school.

"We've come a long way, haven't we?" she asked him as she stacked her books neatly.

He didn't ask her what she meant. "I thought I knew you when we started going out - I thought I knew me when we started going out."

"I know," she murmured, reaching out to take the rest of her books.

"No," he protested, "let me carry them."

"You've been in the hospital," she retorted. "I can carry them."

"No way - if we were in the Muggle world - that would be like you driving."

"That makes no sense," she said impatiently.

"I don't care. I want to carry your books."

"Does the Fighting Fair article say anything about whacking your partner on the head with books?" Ginny asked through gritted teeth.

"They frown upon it," he answered, backing away.

"Spoilsports," she replied. Then she cocked her head in thought. "How about I carry half and you carry half?"

"Thank you for catering to my pride," he said dryly.

"Anytime." She smiled at him fondly.

*

When Harry and Ginny returned to the castle, they found Professor McGonagall waiting for them at the top of the stairs in the Entrance Hall. "Potter, the Headmaster would like to speak to you right away." Then she observed, "I didn't think the walk from Hogsmeade would have taken so long."

"It didn't," Harry said, feeling a bit defiant about taking the time to see Ginny. "I had to talk to Ginny first."

The professor looked as if she was restraining herself from rolling her eyes. "Miss Weasley, I'd like to talk to Mr. Potter privately before he goes to the Headmaster."

Harry reluctantly handed Ginny the rest of her books and watched her walk briskly up the steps.

He climbed the stairs more slowly, wondering what McGonagall was going to say to him. She was probably going to ask him why he thought he could do such advanced magic - or why he did such an utterly stupid thing on a fellow student - or maybe it would be about leaving the grounds without permission. The more he thought about it, the longer the list of rule breaking seemed to be.

As always, McGonagall surprised him. "Well Potter, you tried some advanced magic and almost got yourself killed. I seem to remember you risking your life for Miss Weasley a few years ago."

"I didn't know I was risking my life this time," he said. "We thought we were risking both of our lives." Then he added sullenly, "We decided together."

She nodded and Harry was astonished to see that she looked almost . . . approving? "As it should be." Then she said in a serious voice, " Harry, I don't know if you realize that your adventures at Gringotts have been kept completely confidential. If the wizarding world knew that the security of their money and treasure was in doubt for even a few hours . . ."

Harry stared at her. "You mean if people thought the goblins had gone to Voldemort's side, they would have gone along - just to keep their money?"

She sighed. "I'm afraid so. Many people have their entire sense of security tied up in their bank accounts. If they lost faith in the integrity of the banking system, the Ministry would have a hard time on their hands. So please don't mention the goblins when describing your adventures." She inclined her head. "Not that you are going to give interviews to The Daily Prophet."

"Hardly," he said, somewhat affronted that McGonagall would think he would be spreading tales.

Her lips twitched, but she continued in a serious tone. "I don't know if you realize what a disadvantage it is for these fifth years to have missed revision time because of the attacks. This school is at sixes and sevens, as you'll soon see. I want to ask you to give Miss Weasley plenty of time to study for her O.W.L.s."

"Of course I will," he said a bit defensively. "I want her to do well."

"I thought so." Then McGonagall's face softened. "I knew your mother very well. Not only did she excel at charm work; she was exceedingly kind-hearted. She would have been proud of what you did for Miss Weasley."

Harry thought about his mother as he made his way to Dumbledore's office. Always he had been told he looked like his father, but had his mother's eyes. He never knew what to make of that last bit.

Now he was starting to understand how she could yell at his father in Snape's Pensieve and come to love him enough to marry him a few years later. He smiled to himself. She obviously hadn't read the Fighting Fair article . . .

Then he sobered. The first time he had done the Chrysalis Charm he had heard her voice and he had discovered the beauty of a heart, easily torn. Now he was starting to understand the power contained in that heart. She had devised a charm, made out of love, to protect him - how he wished she could be here now - to tell him how to use that power to defeat Voldemort.

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Chapter 22: Gold Is The Sprit

Chapter 21: Gold is the Spirit

The bright afternoon sun flooded Professor Dumbledore's office. Glancing out the window, Harry realized that the Headmaster had a clear view of the path outside of the greenhouses. He wondered if Dumbledore had seen his reunion with Ginny. Not that he minded - somehow Harry thought he would understand. Although from the way Dumbledore was busily shuffling through the rolls of parchment on his desk, Harry didn't think he would take much time to stare out the window.

"Harry," Dumbledore greeted him kindly, adjusting his glasses. "I'm sorry I haven't talked to you since Walpurgis Night. I have been very busy with the Order, as you can imagine. And of course the castle has needed a lot of my attention." He waved to a large floor plan of Hogwarts castle pinned to the wall. "I must commend you and your friends for the marvelous way you banded together to save the school."

Harry smiled. It had been a rather impressive example of teamwork - Ron, Theodore Nott, and the other prefects had shown themselves to be good leaders.

"I talked to Miss Weasley at St. Mungo's." Dumbledore continued.

Harry raised his eyebrows. He hadn't realized Dumbledore had been all the way to London to visit.

"And she told me of your extraordinary escape from the Gringott's vault. I wonder - how did you know you could wrap that charm around another person?"

"Hermione told me," Harry replied. "She read that there was one known incident where two people were in the charm. But the book gave no details."

"Ah," Dumbledore said, looking a Harry keenly. "That is because no one knows the details but me."

"What do you mean?"

"I am the only other person, next to you, of course, who has wrapped that charm around someone else."

"Oh." Harry was momentarily dumbstruck. He wasn't sure if Dumbledore was going to give him the details now, so he decided to ask about his own experiences. "Um, Ginny and I were worried - when we were deciding about the charm - we were worried that the Voldemort in me would some how become connected to the Tom Riddle in her. But - we didn't see either one of them. Why?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Because Tom Riddle possessed Miss Weasley's mind - not her heart - which is why I think she survived his possession. And Voldemort is connected to you by the scar on your forehead. Neither one of your hearts were ever affected by either one of them."

"But why didn't we see shadows? It was all light and just the two of us - together." He hesitated and then added, "And then it wasn't the two of us - "

"Another great mystery of the heart," Dumbledore replied. His eyes were a warm blue as he thought for a moment. "When opposites come together in the Chrysalis Charm, what do you think happens?"

He had no idea.

"What happened when you and Miss Weasley were in the charm?" Dumbledore prompted.

"She's not my opposite," Harry protested. "We're both in Gyffindor, we both play Quidditch, we know about being possessed - we're a lot alike."

"Ah, but she is female to your male. She is your opposite and in the great mysteries of the heart, when two come together they become - "

"One," Harry said, wonder in his voice. Was that what it was all about when they couldn't see each other any more in the golden light?

"This of course reflects human nature - when a man and a woman come together it is a life-affirming, in some cases, a life-giving, moment."

Harry realized he was getting the Dumbledore version of The Talk.

Dumbledore leaned back and settled more comfortably in his chair. "The red stage in alchemy is sometimes called the alchemical marriage. It appears from what you and she have told me. That is the stage you experienced in the Chrysalis."

"You mean we're married?" Harry asked incredulously, thinking they had missed a few critical steps, like finishing their education and reaching the age of majority.

"Not in the eyes of the law," Dumbledore answered, his eyes twinkling. "In the heart only. Although -" he added whimsically, "that seems the correct place for a marriage to take place."

Harry was not reassured.

"It is a figure of speech only," Dumbledore said firmly. "In alchemy when opposites come together and the proper magic occurs, the Philosopher's Stone is born. You must remember the Stone you retrieved your first year?"

He nodded. That wasn't one of those things easily forgotten.

"Once the Stone is created all kinds of wonders can be produced - from gold to immortal life."

Harry remembered how Voldemort craved that stone.

"Yet," Dumbledore continued, "that stone is a pale representation of the true power of the heart."

Harry couldn't imagine what could be more powerful than the Philosopher's Stone.

Dumbledore looked him in the eye. "The Philosopher's Stone cannot cast out shadows - only the light within the heart can do that."

Harry was more confused than ever. "I don't understand what shadows have to do with anything."

He leaned forward. "Who do you think is your shadow? Your opposite in all you are and all you have done?"

"Voldemort," he answered, feeling strangely chilled.

"And when your wands met - brothers they were - yet wielded by their opposites - what happened?"

"We heard the music of the phoenix and the gold beads started to move and then the shadows came out . . ." He trailed off as he realized he had seen all those images in his Chrysalis.

"When opposites come together, where one cannot overcome the other - there occurs a great mystery - for the briefest of seconds, they become one - and the light stops and becomes still."

Harry stared at the floor concentrating on Dumbledore's words.

"You and Voldemort are not equals in your opposition - and this is what I want you to think about. He has done great magic, to enable him to live through countless incarnations - yet always that life honors the shadow - the power of fear and anger. He has forgotten so much."

Harry looked up - Dumbledore had said the same thing to Voldemort in the atrium at the Ministry last year.

"Voldemort has forgotten that death is merely part of time - the light that moves. He has sought to hide from time in the shadows, where no moving light may pierce. But he has forgotten that true life, comes from outside of time - the still light, which is something you possess in such great quantities and he not at all. For Voldemort to be vanquished you must shine that light on his shadows.

"How?"

"What would happen if you performed the Chrysalis Charm on him?"

Harry was horrified. To let that evil one into his heart - how could he possibly survive?

"I barely survived when Ginny and I . . ."

"What would it look like?" Dumbledore asked in a relentless tone.

Then Harry realized. "Like Norbert and the Ukrainian Ironbelly - they were locked together in combat, and they wouldn't let go- and they both died.

"Only because they were equals and they fought as bodies. If you dissolved Voldemort's body in the Chrysalis Charm - what would he have left? Your essence would overcome Voldemort because there is no light in him - and the shadows always flee from the light."

His heart started pounding painfully as he realized the importance of what Dumbledore was telling him. "What is my essence?"

"Don't you see Harry? It is that steady bit of gold you have been seeing all along. Remember - it's all you - the bird and the snake. And even better, your essence is now more than you - because you combined your light with hers. Your love for Ginny has given you the heart to vanquish Voldemort."

He wasn't sure if he understood fully what Dumbledore was telling him - but he did know that the answers he had sought from his mother were now coming from Dumbledore. There was another charm connected to love - and Dumbledore had been teaching him it to him all along.

"It is a way - not the only way - to vanquish Voldemort. But I want you to know that and not be afraid. You see, that is how I defeated my shadow, Grindenwald."

Harry looked from Dumbledore to the portraits on the wall. They had all been listening intently and were studying him speculatively. He didn't know what to say. Dumbledore's explanation made a kind of sense - yet he couldn't quite wrap his weary mind around the thought of defeating Voldemort without a body.

"You look tired, Harry," Dumbledore said kindly. "I didn't mean to keep you so long. We will, of course, talk about this later."

With a grateful nod he stood up stiffly; they had been talking for a long time. As he walked out of Dumbledore's office, he heard the portrait of Phineas speak out, "You know Albus, about Potter's marriage I am way ahead of you. Back in September I told them they were the perfect match since she has the blood-lines and he has the gold."

*

Harry made his way to Madam Pomfrey's office after his conversation with Dumbledore, thinking he needed more than a draught of Strengthening Potion after what he had just heard. But once he felt the potion coursing through his body, he felt much better.

"I'm glad a Strengthening Potion is all you require," Madam Pomfey said grimly after he drank it down. "Our Potions Master is still absent."

"Professor Snape?" Harry asked. "Where is he?"

"No one's telling," Madam Pomfrey sniffed. "I'd expect him back by exams, though." She gave Harry a sharp look. "Get plenty of rest Mr. Potter, you were touch and go for a while there."

All thoughts of Snape fled from his mind when he saw Luna pinning a note on the notice board outside the hospital wing.

"Did your dorm mates take your stuff?" Harry asked, wondering why people were so mean to Luna.

"No," Luna answered, "someone has taken their things. And I've offered to help them look. I tried to tell them that they always turn up in the end, but they won't be comforted." She shrugged and then stared at him intently. "That was a rather extraordinary exit you made from the Chamber."

"Yeah - I reckon it must have seemed - odd."

"It reminded me of Professor Dumbledore," Luna said, smiling a little. "You were so calm - like you knew what you had to do and didn't mind . . ."

That feeling he had when he looked into Lupin's haunted eyes, returned - but this time he had words to describe it. "I do mind what I have to do," he said, thinking of the prophecy. "But I'm starting to mind more what the others are doing - you know the Death Eaters and Voldemort. And I want to stop it." This was the first time he had said these things out loud - and he realized how true they were.

"That's what Theodore says too," Luna answered.

*

That feeling of conviction lasted until he arrived at Gryffindor Tower. For some reason, seeing the familiar common room made him want to hang on to his comfortable world - with both hands.

"Harry! How are you feeling?" Hermione leaped up and met him at the portrait hole, a huge smile on her face. "I can't believe you tried that charm on Ginny - and it worked!" She hugged him quickly. "Come and sit down."

She had papers and charts spread all around her at the table. "I'm putting the finishing touches on a paper I'm writing for the International Geographic Society," she announced brightly. "An elfin honor battle is a very rare occurrence, so they accepted my idea for a paper right away. Professor McGonagall knows someone - "

"Hermione, about the charm," he interrupted.

She looked startled but stopped fussing with her papers immediately.

"Sorry," he said, feeling just a little foolish for being so worried all of a sudden. "Remember when I first told you about the Chrysalis Charm - and you said it might just work against Voldemort?"

Her smile vanished. "Yes - I think it is possible." She studied him, looking frightened. "Although -"

"It could be horrible," he finished.

She winced.

"I saw Norbert die, Hermione." He thought about how the dragons had ripped each other apart - the pain they had dealt each other - and the final surrender to death. " They both went up together in flames."

Her eyes filled with tears.

"That's what it would be like - I'd fuse with Voldemort." He thought about the stabbing pain in his forehead and the torturous agony of being possessed. A battle with Voldemort would end in a conflagration of pain. "Except - "

"The part of you that never dies, would never die," she said firmly.

"But the part of me that does die - I want back," he confessed, feeling the relief of finally saying what he hadn't admitted to Dumbledore. He wanted to live - he didn't want his body burned away by pain.

Hermione was biting her lip.

"Do you think it's possible to survive such a thing?" he asked, dreading the answer.

She took a deep breath and looked up at the ceiling. "I can't answer that." When she looked at him again, tears slipped silently from her eyes. "I can't assure you it would work because - I don't know."

His heart sank, but he wasn't surprised.

She sniffed and then said in a low voice, "When I first heard the prophecy I was so angry. I thought, why Harry?" She clenched her hands in front of her. "It's so bloody unfair."

He was surprised to hear her swearing, and even more surprised to hear Hermione railing against something that couldn't be changed. "But I have to do it," he said. "I have to try. We can't have any more Walpurgis nights."

She was watching him with big eyes.

"For the first time I feel like I can do it. Voldemort would never survive, I can see that clearly. But I don't know if I . . ."

"It would break Ginny's heart if anything happens to you," Hermione whispered; there were more tears running down her face. "She was so quiet when she returned from St. Mungo's . . ."

"I know," he said, trying to swallow the lump in his throat. He didn't want to think about the pain he could cause her.

Hermione was crying in earnest now. "It would break my heart - and Ron's too."

He took off his glasses and covered his face with his hands. This is what he had been trying to avoid for a year now - facing the fact that he might die - when he had so much to live for.

The emotions threatened to overwhelm him until he felt Hermione's hand on his arm.

She sniffed and said in a steely voice, "Then it's just going to have to work, isn't it? Dumbledore did it, didn't he?"

He rubbed his eyes and put on his glasses. "I'm no Dumbledore."

"No - but you're Harry." She inclined her head. "And there's something about you that has never been defeated by Voldemort."

"Dumbledore said," he hesitated. "He said that I passed the red stage and that Ginny added her light to mine - and that would be enough - I don't know what that really means."

"You do know what it means," Hermione declared. "Do you know why they call it the Chrysalis Charm?"

He shook his head.

"Because it causes your spirit to evolve. In alchemy you would be able to produce gold after the red stage - in the charm - it's the force of your spirit."

That part he understood - he had felt that strength of that magical union with Ginny. "But that doesn't mean my body can survive. "

"Would you have cared last year - really?" Hermione asked him bluntly.

Harry was taken aback. How could she have known that he would have happily died when Sirius died?

She nodded. "You were so depressed last year - and angry - and confused. We were so worried . . ."

"I -"

"But now." She sighed and gave him a small smile. "You have the will to live because you have someone to come back for."

"Ginny begged me not to die - when we were in Bill's office. That must have given me the strength . . ."

"Your mum's love protected you once - maybe there's something about Ginny's love that will do the same."

It never ceased to amaze him at how quickly Hermione could grasp something, given the chance to understand. His burden of worry was lighter, just because she listened and he was so very grateful. "Hermione, I - "

"It's ok," she interrupted. "I'm just glad I could finally help you out. You've been wonderful to me this year. Even though we didn't start off so well," she admitted, looking suddenly uncomfortable. "I think I was a little jealous - that you told Ginny about the prophecy first."

"But I didn't plan -"

She held up her hand. "I know - just because I felt that way, doesn't mean it was right or logical. Then - well, I just couldn't understand why you had to be with her every spare minute - you know, weren't Ron and I enough?"

He opened his mouth to say that he really didn't spend that much time with Ginny.

Hermione cut him off. "Then Ron and I started going out - and I finally understood . . ."

"We'll always be friends, Hermione."

She smiled, her eyes shining with emotion. "It's not like there is limited quantity of love that has to be divided - is there?"

"No," he said, realizing he didn't care any less for Ron and Hermione just because he loved Ginny too.

"There's your alchemy of the heart, Harry."

He smiled. It had taken him a year's lessons with Dumbledore and all that time with Ginny to reach the same conclusion Hermione had come to in the course of an hour. "So where is Ron?"

"Ron is in the library until supper."

"Ron is in the library until supper," he repeated stupidly.

Hermione laughed and then looked a bit self-conscious. "Yes, well that week we didn't have classes, um Ron and I spent a lot of time together."

Harry could guess just what they were up to.

"Professor McGonagall caught us -um kissing - one night."

He grinned at her - glad it wasn't him in trouble for once.

"Don't look so smug," Hermione said, trying not to smile. "Anyway, the next day Professor McGonagall took me aside and told me to make sure that Ron studies. She wasn't worried about me, so much as Ron being distracted from the 'important business of obtaining a magical education.'"

His grin widened. "You vixen - such a corrupting influence."

She looked rather pleased with herself. "Yes, well - Ron's promised to study - and he's making sure McGonagall sees him doing it. He doesn't want to reflect badly on me."

"I got the same lecture," he said. "When I first arrived. McGonagall said the fifth years are at a disadvantage for the O.W.L.s."

"Well they are," Hermione said. Then she laughed. "I didn't know the Weasleys were so distractible."

"They aren't," Harry replied. "But McGonagall knows that if she told either one of them not to do something, they would get all resentful and do the opposite."

Hermione's eyes widened. "You're right. I suppose after seven Weasleys, McGonagall has learned how to deal with them."

"I say we pay attention to her methods."

*

Harry had to use McGonagalls methods that evening after supper because Ginny was going to skive off studying for the night to spend time with him. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to fight his own inclinations.

"One night missed studying isn't going to make a difference," she scoffed as they walked hand-in-hand from the Great Hall to Gryffindor tower.

Harry silently agreed and then tried to think of some of the arguments Hermione always used. "What if that one question - the one that will mean the difference between an O and E - is in the chapter you were planning on revising tonight?"

"You sound like Hermione," she said suspiciously. Then she stopped and faced him with her hands on her hips. "What's going on?"

The truth seemed like a good idea at this point. "McGonagall told me to keep my very distracting presence away from you, so you could study."

She giggled. "I'm sure those were her exact words." She stepped closer. "She really knows how to manage all of us, doesn't she?" Then she trailed one finger down his arm and added, "Appealing to your noble sense of honor."

"You're not helping me be noble," he said, putting his arms around her. Her hair smelled so nice . . .

"No, I'm not," she answered, running her hands up to his shoulders.

He bent to kiss her, reasoning one little kiss wouldn't take up too much time . . .

"Ginny, you're supposed to be studying - not snogging - in the corridor, of all places," Ron hissed from the other end of the corridor.

"What are the places you recommend?" Ginny asked coolly, even though she was blushing a bit.

Ron turned a matching shade of red. "Ginny -"

"Ok - I'm going," she said, "to study. And don't take it out on Harry - he was trying to be noble." She smiled cheekily at Harry. "He'll try to be noble again tomorrow."

Once Ginny left, Harry glanced at Ron and was relieved to see he didn't look upset.

"You know, I've never seen you two together before now," Ron said thoughtfully. "Have you ever been caught?"

"No," he answered a bit defensively. "It's not like that's all we do, you know."

"I reckon I don't want to know," Ron said smiling. "I'm not on prefect duties," he added. "Madam Pomfrey wanted me to remind you to take another dose of Strengthening Potion."

Harry made a face and turned to go to the hospital wing, Ron fell into step beside him. "Hermione told me about your conversation with Dumbledore."

"Yeah," he said, not looking at Ron because the trick step was coming up. Once they had navigated that staircase, he stopped. "What do you think?" he asked, knowing Ron was the most skeptical of all of them at times.

"It's mad," he said matter-of-factly, "but it's your kind of mad." He shrugged and then he grinned. "The way you left the Chamber with Hedwig was amazing. You really do know stuff no one else does."

"Yeah." Harry moved to continue his walk to the hospital wing.

"I just wish - " Ron blurted.

Harry stopped and turned toward him.

"I just wish I could help," he said earnestly. "You know, like play a giant chess game or duel with a dark wizard."

Harry's heart warmed at these words. There was something so true and decent and good about Ron - the total opposite of Draco Malfoy.

Thinking of Draco Malfoy sent a chill down his spine. "Ron," he said in an urgent voice. "You might not be able to help me with Voldemort. But he isn't the only evil in the world. The Malfoys will break out of Azkaban - I'm sure of it."

Ron stiffened and nodded, his expression somber.

"Promise me you'll do everything in your power to stop them."

Harry had never asked anything like this of Ron before. Ron had always thrown his lot in with Harry without question - but this was different.

Ron seemed to understand the gravity of the request, because he stood still for a moment and then nodded his head. "I will," he vowed. Then he looked at Harry with a ghost of a smile. "May he - "

"Freeze his skinny ferret arse at Azkaban," they finished together.

Madam Pomfrey's office was in sight when Ron stopped and spoke again. "Does Ginny know - about what Dumbledore told you?"

He hadn't had a chance to talk to her about it, but he had a feeling she knew. "I think Dumbledore must have told her something at St. Mungo's."

Ron nodded. "It's just that - you know how Hermione worries about people? Well, now she's worried about Ginny." He shook his head. "I told her not to - that there's a lot more to Ginny than she lets on."

Harry could certainly agree with that.

"Look - it's great you're being all noble - " He caught sight of Harry's expression and smiled. "Ok. That you're trying to be all noble about making her study - but don't go being all noble about breaking it off with her to spare her pain or some such rubbish."

That thought had never occurred to him. Selfishly, he didn't want to give her up and he could just imagine all the Fighting Fair rules she would break if he ever suggested such a thing. "Are you kidding? She'd kill me before Voldemort would have a chance."

Ron laughed. "I see you understand the darker side of Weasley loyalty."

*

Harry soon learned that Hogwarts was not quite back to normal. There were parts of the building cordoned off because of structural integrity concerns. The Slytherins had to move out of their dungeons until all the Bundimun was eradicated. Now they were billeted with the other three houses where the heads could watch them while Snape was absent.

It gave Harry quite a start to see Theodore Nott squeezed in a camp bed between Neville and Seamus's four posters.

"It's not quite the lamb lying down with the lion," he said when he saw Harry's expression.

"That's 'cause snakes are always lying down," Ron said.

"Weasley thinks I'm lazy," Nott explained to Harry.

For Ron to think someone lazy was almost mind-boggling to Harry.

"Nott sleeps all the time," Dean said. "Must be right depressed, missing his cold, damp dungeon."

"His quiet, cold, damp dungeon," Nott corrected.

"How do you think we feel?" Seamus said, "Two prefects in one dormitory? And it's the end of the term in a few short weeks. How are we supposed to celebrate properly?"

Nott shook his head. "Innocent Gryffindors . . . haven't you learned to improvise and to use your weaknesses as advantages?"

"No," Seamus said. "I just want to get my hands on a case of firewhisky and have a right good session. I don't want to take over the world or play mind games like you Slytherins."

"World domination doesn't involve a hangover the next day."

"Just knives in your back."

"That's why I sleep on my stomach," Nott said, rolling over and putting the pillow over his head.

"Oh no, it's not quiet time yet," Seamus said, snatching the pillow away. "You should be revising anyway."

"Finnegan, give me back my pillow!" Nott yelled, scrambling out of bed.

Seamus threw it in his face. Nott whacked him over the head with it. Dean threw his pillow at Seamus who used it to duel Nott's pillow. Ron hit Seamus to get him to stop, and soon they were all laughing and shouting, the original feud long forgotten.

Neville appeared in the doorway and looked at the feathers hanging in the air. "You'd think with two prefects in the dormitory we wouldn't have anymore pillow fights."

******

A/N: If you've reached this author's note, then you've suspended your disbelief enough to buy how Harry can defeat Voldemort - at least within the context of this story. And that's the way it should stay - within the context of this story.

While we don't know how Harry will "vanquish" Voldemort, I don't think it will be in a traditional duel. GoF already showed us what a stalemate that would be.

Since JKR is fond of parallel scenes - I think the clues for Harry's victory lie in Dumbledore's story of how he defeated the Dark Wizard Grindenwald. I'm wondering if Grindenwald is the Half-Blood Prince. Maybe that is the back-story she's been waiting to reveal since book one. Or maybe not. :)

The alchemy symbolism I have been using all along is from several books and web sites. Dumbledore kindly explained them to Harry for me. With each stage there is a corresponding animal. For instance, the red stage - the alchemical marriage stage - is represented by the stag and the unicorn. (I would be so happy with a unicorn Patronus for Ginny!)

Amor Fati, the explanations of time, opposites, shadows and eternity, are all from Joseph Campbell. His seminal book is called Hero With A Thousand Faces, which explains his understanding of the hero's journey found in myths the world over. If you would like to know more about this sort of thing, I recommend The Power of Myth, which is a companion volume to the PBS series of the same name.

Thanks to Jo Wickaninnish, Julu, and Nic83.

One more chapter to go!

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Chapter 23: Green Is This Life

Chapter 22 Green is this Life

Snape returned in time for exams, just as Madam Pomfrey predicted. Before Theodore Nott moved back to the dungeons one rainy evening, Harry thought to ask him about Luna's dorm mates and their missing things.

Nott's smile was satisfied. "I had some help from the Slytherin fifth years who were staying in their dormitory," he admitted. "They set the Vanishing Drains in their trunks."

"Vanishing Drains?" Ron asked. "Aren't those Fred and George's inventions?"

"Prototypes only," Nott acknowledged, "which performed beyond expectations in field tests."

Ron gaped at him. "How did you ever get involved with Fred and George?"

"I wrote to them at their Diagon Alley address." Nott shrugged. "After I caught those crows giving Luna a hard time I started thinking about the appropriate revenge. Taking their things seemed just about right. Then I remembered Montague and the Vanishing Cabinet -

"You knew about that?" Ron looked worried.

"Like I care," Nott rolled his eyes. "Montague got what he deserved, the git." He nodded at Ron. "Your brothers are all right - they have definite Slytherin traits."

Ron looked affronted at this, but he didn't answer back, for which Harry was glad. Saying someone was like a Slytherin was the highest order of a compliment in Nott's book. "Did you know Luna is trying to help them find their stuff?" Harry asked.

"I know," Nott said, shaking his head. "There isn't a mean bone in her body." He smiled sardonically. "But there are plenty in mine. Best of all, those Ravenclaws know I caused them to lose their stuff - and that they'd better leave Luna alone."

Harry couldn't help but smile - it was rough justice, but justice nonetheless. "Where is the drain connected?"

"Filch's lost and found, which he checks about every fifty years." He moved to pick up his trunk.

Harry noticed that the address on the label was crossed out. "Where are you going this summer?"

"I don't know," Nott said and then lowered his voice. "It's headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix - in London somewhere. Dumbledore said you two stayed there."

Harry glanced at Ron. Theodore Nott was going to hide out at Sirius's house - but it would hold no dark memories for him. Ron seemed to realize this too because he said with a grin, "You are going to love it - a lot of atmosphere. Snake door handles and everything."

"Snake door handles?"

"It's the Black's house. You know - that old dark wizarding family?" Ron said.

"You mean - Sirius Black?" Nott looked at Harry incredulously.

Harry shrugged - he was still uncomfortable talking about Sirius in a casual conversation.

Ron picked up the other end of Theodore Nott's trunk. "Come on, I'll tell you all about it. Oh yeah, make sure you don't get the room with Phineas Nigellus's portrait."

He heard Nott groan as they heaved his trunk down the stairs. "Not him?"

"Yup, he's related to the Blacks," Ron said cheerfully.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed and watched the rain spattering against the glass. Sirius had been gone for almost a year, and yet there was another chapter to his story; his house was going to shelter the black sheep son of a Death Eater. The irony of it all made him smile. He had a feeling Sirius would have liked Theodore Nott very much.

*

Exam week finally came. Harry wasn't able to talk to Ginny at lunch that week, since the fifth years were using mealtime to study as well. He had his own exams to worry about, so he contented himself with smiling at her from afar. They planned to meet at their spot near the greenhouses after Ginny's last exam, which was Defense Against The Dark Arts. Harry was waiting for her, lying on a blanket he had spread on the sheltering embankment, enjoying the warm sunshine on his face.

"Well?" he asked as she scrambled over the knoll to him. She must have come straight from exams, since she was still in her school robes.

"You would have been proud," she said. "My practical exam went very well." She sighed in relief and looked around with bright eyes. "I believe this is known as the outdoors."

He laughed at her look of delight. "Yes - it's the opposite of indoors."

"It's been so long since I've had a moment to notice the weather. And I've really missed Quidditch."

He had too - but there was too much uncertainty for the last two matches to be played.

She sat on the blanket next to him with her arms wrapped around her knees. Wisps of her hair were sticking out, where it looked as if she had rubbed her head in concentration. But her face was open and relaxed. "Oh, this is nice."

"Yes, we have a beautiful view of the greenhouse roofs and the top of the next hill," he said rolling on to his side and propping his head on one hand so he could watch her.

"But no one has a view of us," she pointed out, looking around at the grassy mounds of earth which hid them from the path and the castle.

She sighed and stretched her legs out straight. Her robes covered all of her except for her neat ankles and about two inches of leg . . .

"You know, you have very nice ankles," he said, thinking of the Witches Weekly article.

"That's what Great-Aunt Martha says every time she sees me," she replied.

"Who is Great-Aunt Martha?"

"She's a batty old aunt of Dad's. Hasn't Ron told you about her?"

He shook his head.

"We have to visit her every summer. It was the worst when we were kids, because there was nothing to do and we had to sit still because we might break some of her bric-a-brac -"

"Bric-a-brac?"

"Yeah, you know - old lady stuff - figurines - spoon collections." She laughed at his expression. "Anyway, she'd always tell Mum all the mistakes she was making with the boys - and by the time she got to me, all she had to say was that even though I was scrawny and freckly - I had nice ankles, so I could 'catch a man.'"

She crossed one leg over the other and regarded her ankles. "Mum would get so angry - and the whole way home I would get a lecture about how it wasn't a witch's only purpose in life to catch a man."

"Is Great-Aunt Martha related to Phineas?"

She giggled. "She could be - they certainly see eye to eye on that subject."

"So what's the news?" he asked.

"The news," she mused. "Well, you heard that Charlie is taking the dragons back to Romania?"

"Yes - Hagrid had the mad idea that he could train Grawp to guard the castle - but since Grawp's afraid of dragons, they have to send them away." Harry answered, moving closer so he could put his head in her lap.

"Charlie seems to think he might be able to do it." She put her hand lightly on his shoulder as he settled in. "I suppose Dumbledore thought he should do something to help Hagrid get over Norbert."

"Yeah." Hagrid had certainly been depressed. "Did you hear the other part of the dragon story?"

"No."

"Charlie asked Ron if he wanted to fly along on one of the trips - but Ron wanted to spend the last week at Hogwarts with Hermione - so guess who's going?"

"Who?"

"Seamus."

"No way! Seamus with all those rough and tough dragon handlers? They'll pull so many pranks on him." She moved her hand to the back of his head, and idly started to stroke his hair.

Harry laughed. "He'll love every minute of it. And judging by the letter Mrs. Finnegan sent Charlie about taking care of her baby, I don't think he'll risk letting anything happen to Seamus."

"No, Charlie has a healthy respect for Howlers," Ginny agreed.

"So how did Jeanne and Rose and Diane do on their OWLs?"

"All right - I think. Rose had a hard time because her great-gran just died. You know, the lady we helped on the platform?"

"She did?" he asked incredulously. It seemed hard to believe. That lady had been physically frail, but her eyes were so alive . . . "Um, what happened?"

"I don't know," Ginny said thoughtfully. "I think she just slipped away in her sleep. She was over a hundred years old, you know." She moved her hand to his arm and patted him gently.

"Yeah," he said, not quite sure what he thought. Everyone he knew who died, had died violently and before their time. The thought of someone just going as a part of the natural course of things was a new concept.

"Diane is on a new diet," she said, giving his arm a last caress.

He groaned and shifted on to his back so he could look up at her. "I know it will be something mad - like only eating things that start with the letter "A" or something. You know, apples and artichokes."

She giggled. "Sound delicious. No it's the joie de vivre diet. You eat whatever you want because life is short and times are tough."

He raised his eyebrows. "Sounds like something they say at the corner pub every night."

"I wouldn't worry, she'll have a new one in a few weeks," she said, absently brushing the hair away from his forehead.

"I can't believe I'm asking this, but what about the new Days of Destiny?"

"The Next Generation?" She smiled down at him. "I can't believe you're asking either, but only Jeanne has been listening because of exams." She frowned in thought. "Well, you know, Blaise is Fiona and Roderick's daughter? She's also captain of an all-women's Quidditch team and a Healer and an Animagus."

"I still can't believe I'm asking, but what's her animal?"

"Mermaid."

"Gorgeous, I suppose."

"Of course. Already she has rescued a man who fell overboard from his ship after it was attacked by a sea serpent. He fell in love with her."

"Of course."

"And by wild coincidence, the man was the son of . . ."

"Lord Lyle," he guessed, enjoying the outrageous predictability of the plot lines.

"How did you know?" she demanded.

He grinned up at her.

"Ok - smart one, who is the son's mother?"

"Um." he only remembered one other name. "Olga."

"You're right," she laughed. "And because Olga is from the lost Metamophmangus tribe - "

"He turned himself into a merperson," Harry guessed.

"Yes - which is technically impossible."

"When are they going to bring in the Time-Turners?"

"How did you know? Lord Lyle doesn't want his son to marry Blaise, so he plans to turn back time and kill Roderick before she's conceived." She frowned. "Are you sure you didn't listen to it in St. Mungo's?"

"No - they run a tight ship there - no fun for the patients."

He felt her whole body tense. "Tell me about it," she said looking off into the distance. "The paperwork . . ."

She sighed and looked at him. "I couldn't think of the name of the street where you lived with the Muggles. I thought it had to do with hedgerows . . . Finally I did remember." She grinned weakly. "I think I sold number four Privet Drive to St. Mungo's - in triplicate."

"Uncle Vernon will go mad."

He sat up and turned so that they were side-by-side, but facing each other. "I'm sorry you had to go through all that alone."

"I wasn't alone for very long," she assured him. "Percy came right away when Penny floo'd him. He was at the Ministry - the only place the Death Eaters didn't attack that night. He wrote up some kind of doxy -" She wrinkled her forehead. "Or proxy document - I don't know what it was - and that seemed to make the witch behind the desk happy."

She plucked at his shirtfront.

"Percy gave me his sweatshirt because yours was ruined . . ." She glanced at him. "I was a little fixated on that sweatshirt - I didn't want to take it off."

It wasn't difficult to picture how heart wrenching she must have looked, clutching at a bloodstained sweatshirt three sizes too big for her. He was so very glad Percy had been there and that he didn't try to buy her a sweatshirt to replace it. "You still have a lovely jumper collection."

"I have you - that's all that matters." She rested her hand over his heart.

He covered her hand with his own, knowing he would have to talk to her about what was in his future. "Did Dumbledore tell you why he taught me that charm?"

She went very still and then gave a slight nod.

"What do you think?"

She pulled her hand away, closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky for a moment. "Remember when you first told me about the prophecy last summer?"

"Yes," he said looking at the line of her profile against the grassy background.

"And I told you - you didn't have to think about it until a course of action became clear?" she asked, looking directly into his eyes.

"Yeah." It had certainly been the right advice to help him through the summer.

"After Dumbledore's talk, I realized that now the course of action was clear." She paused. "And I had a week of watching you sleep to get it straight in my mind."

Her firm tone and her set mouth told him everything he needed to know about the week she had spent by his bedside. She had faced everything he had faced - and she had done it alone. His heart turned over, thinking of her courage and her loyalty to him.

He took the hand that was absently pinching the black fabric of her robes and raised it to his lips.

Her mouth softened and she glanced at him uncertainly.

Still holding her hand, he explained, "In fairytales the gallant lady has her hand kissed."

She ducked her head and color rose in her cheeks. "I don't know about gallant," she whispered, "but I try to be."

He moved to kiss her, marveling at how someone could be so strong and so vulnerable all at the same time.

She scooted closer to him and put her arms around his neck. He pulled her in to his lap. They sat quietly, listening to the breeze blowing through the grass. White puffy clouds scudded through blue skies.

Ginny broke the silence. "Let's be happy today."

He laughed. "You can chose?"

"Oh, yes," she assured him. "Especially when all the right elements are in place."

"Such as?"

"Blue sky, free time." She giggled. "And a blanket."

"Yes - let's be happy today," he said, pulling her down on the blanket with him.

Lying on her side, she sighed contentedly and traced her finger from the hollow of his neck to his heart. It was the exact location of his newest scar and it tingled when she touched it.

He ran his hand down her side, following the slopes of her body, all the way to her exposed ankles. As he moved his hand up the silky surface of her bare calf, he realized that here was yet another marvelous curve. By the time he had reached the back of her knee, he noticed she had goose bumps. "Is my hand cold?" he asked.

"No, your hand is not cold," she gasped. "I don't know if we want to be that happy today."

"Sorry," he said, not at all sorry - but moving his hand away. "I think Great-Aunt Martha was on to something about those ankles."

She laughed and rolled on her back. "No wonder she got married when she was eighteen."

"And how old is she now?" he asked, leaning over her.

"About one hundred and twenty."

"So she had a hundred years to explore this ankle theory of hers."

She caressed his face and looked suddenly sad. "Her husband died very young - and they never had any children. Maybe that's why she's so dotty."

His heart twisted for this old lady he had never met. "Maybe. Did she have red hair?"

"Yes - Weasley red."

"Then she had a happy marriage."

"How do you know that?" she scoffed.

"I don't - but that's the story I'm telling myself."

She smiled at him. "I like that story - and I like the one with the gallant lady who has her hand kissed by the gallant knight."

"I like stories with witches who have man-catching ankles."

She pulled him on top of her. "You would," she said putting her arms around him.

"Let's be happy today."

"Let's be responsibly happy."

"All of our feet are on the floor."

She giggled. "I'm going to ask Great-Aunt Martha for her version of The Talk next."

*

The last week at Hogwarts sped by. Seamus returned from his dragon delivery on the last night, looking rather worse for wear, but happy nonetheless.

"Those dragon handlers," he told them all in their dormitory, "they drink their firewhisky when it's on fire!"

"What do you mean?" Neville asked.

"It's like the hair of the dog to them - especially if they've been burned," Seamus answered excitedly. "I'm telling you, I've found my career."

"Seamus, just work in a pub or something," Ron said, alarmed. "You can have all the firewhisky you want, you get to keep your own skin, and every now and then a pretty girl will talk to you."

"Yeah," Dean chimed in, "those pretty girls will ask you where the loo is."

"Shut up, I know what I'm doing," retorted Seamus.

"But does your mum know?"

Seamus's look of certainty slipped off of his face. "Um."

"That's ok, Seamus," Ron said. "You wouldn't meet too many girls out on the dragon reservation."

Seamus rolled his eyes in exasperation. "I'm serious about this. And I have all summer to convince Mam."

Ron regarded him steadily, and then with the air of washing his hands of the whole affair, he replied, "Well you're mental enough - I can see that now."

"Hey Neville," Dean said, "what's this I hear about you being in the next issue of The Quibbler?"

Neville turned pink. "In The Daily Prophet they mentioned my plant and how it is so rare and all that. Luna sent some information off to her Dad." He shrugged. "I'm sure only the gardeners will be interested."

"Oh, Neville - you're going to have plant groupies following you around," Seamus teased.

Neville laughed and changed the subject. "So - what's the latest rumor for the new Defense Against The Dark Arts teacher?" Professor Trimble had decided to go back to his quiet retirement after his severe allergic reaction to the Bundimun.

"A Professor McClaggan has been hired," Seamus answered with brisk certainty. "He's from around these parts - kind of wild looking, I hear."

Dean tittered and then said in his best broad Scots accent, "Aye - Professor McClaggan - with a dirk in one hand and a wand in the other - he'll beat those Sassenach dark wizards back!"

"A dirk - what's that?" Neville asked.

"He'll be keeping it in his kilt," Dean said, staying in character.

"It's a dagger, Neville," Harry said.

"Then what's a Sassenach?" Neville questioned with a frown.

"Bloody English dogs," Dean growled.

"A foreigner," Seamus answered, looking with disgust at Dean. "I see Dean has managed to perpetuate all the Scottish stereotypes in about five seconds."

"We haven't mentioned the size of his Sporran," Ron pointed out with a grin.

"Or what he's wearing under his kilt," Dean said.

"Ewww!"

Neville looked from one to the other and then sighed. "If we're really going to have Professor McClaggan for a new teacher, I reckon it's going to be a long year."

*

It rained for most of the southbound journey on the Hogwarts Express. Harry and Ginny had a compartment to themselves while Ron and Hermione were conducting their prefect duties. Harry found it very pleasant to mindlessly watch the rivulets of water run down the windows while they sat together warm and dry.

Luna Lovegood drifted in with a copy of The Quibbler about twenty minutes into the trip. "I thought Hermione might like to see her house-elf article before it hits the newsstands," she said handing Harry a copy. "Tell her I have more if she wants them."

Harry had no idea what Luna was talking about.

Ginny took the magazine out of his hands and started thumbing through it. Then she gasped and showed the article to Harry. The bold headline said: I Saw A House-elf Honor Battle (as told by Hermione Granger to Rita Skeeter).

"Rita Skeeter?" he said, puzzled. "Hermione would never give an interview to Rita Skeeter."

"Not only that," Ginny said in a horrified tone, "look at the picture."

Rita Skeeter had somehow obtained an early picture of Hermione - taken before her teeth had been straightened. In it she was grinning maniacally - but the worst part of all was the pink bow nestled in the tangle of her bushy hair.

"That cow!" Ginny hissed. "Rita Skeeter obviously magicked that bow on to the picture. Hermione wouldn't be caught dead wearing something like that."

"Nor would she ever say something like: My heart pounded like a war drum as the Hogwarts elves boldly raised their fingers to defend our innocence," Harry read aloud. "I held on tightly to my boyfriend's hand, and I couldn't help but let out a squeal of fright as the first red blast echoed off the Chamber walls. I buried my face in his manly chest - and begged him to tell me when it was over."

Ginny looked sickened. "Rita must be writing for Days of Destiny. This article has about that much resemblance to the truth."

"Hermione was writing an academic paper for The International Geographic Society," Harry said, " but how did Rita Skeeter ever get her hands on it?"

Ginny shook her head. "I don't know, but I don't want to see Hermione's face when she catches sight of this."

"Is Neville's plant in there?"

"Oh! I don't know." Ginny leafed through a few more pages and found a picture of Neville peering owlishly through the leaves of the Mimbulus mimbletonia. Even in the grainy photograph, the plant looked as if it were going to explode at any moment. There was a short article explaining the folklore surrounding the plant and how Neville was the only successful caretaker of this type of plant in Britain.

"Well at least Neville has a decent article," Harry said, dreading Hermione's reaction.

They didn't have long to wait. Ron, Hermione, Theodore Nott and Luna all arrived at the same time. When Luna handed Hermione her very own copy of the July issue, Harry happened to glance at Ron, who wore an air of suppressed excitement.

Harry suddenly had a bad feeling about who had supplied The Quibbler with Hermione's paper.

"Oh my," Hermione said weakly, as she collapsed on the seat.

"Isn't it great, Hermione?" Ron asked with a proud grin. "Now a wide audience will learn all about house-elves - not just those stuffy old scholars at the International Geographic Society."

"My paper?" she asked in a small voice. "You sent my paper to The Quibbler?" She stared at Ron as if she couldn't quite believe he was real.

"They had to sex it up a bit, Hermione," Luna broke in. "Your paper was brilliant - but The Quibbler readership doesn't have much tolerance for statistics - and they like things told in a story format." She waved her hand vaguely. "So they had one of the reporters work it over. I told Daddy that you knew Rita Skeeter, so we thought she'd be best for the job."

Hermione went white and then her face turned red.

"Look, Granger," Theodore Nott jumped in before things could turn ugly. "She didn't change the facts - just how it was written. Weasley's right - a lot more people read The Quibbler. Look at the end goal - like a true Slytherin - not the means."

Hermione opened her mouth and then closed it again. She glanced at Ron who was starting to look worried. "Are you angry?" he asked.

She took a deep breath and exhaled. Then she looked at her photograph again. "But that pink bow . . ." Her eyes were haunted. "I never wear pink."

Ron bent down to look at the picture. "I sent that in. Remember, it was taken at the World Cup? I always liked that picture because of your smile."

Hermione looked at him incredulously.

"See how happy you look?"

Since Hermione didn't appear to be homicidal anymore, Luna and Theodore Nott left. Harry knew this wasn't the end of it, but he figured Hermione needed to righten her blood pressure before she could form coherent sentences. He glanced at Ginny who was also watching the Ron-Hermione tableaux with fascination.

They settled into an uneasy silence to read their individual copies of The Quibbler,which Luna had pressed upon them before she left. The only sounds were the flicking of pages, the pounding rain, and the occasional snort of derision from Hermione.

Harry was in the middle of deciding if two Leos could make a "Love Connection," when Hermione finally spoke. "Ron, I don't want you to give out any of my papers without my permission - ever again."

"But it was a surprise."

"I was surprised," she replied. "And I hate surprises - especially when they're wrapped in a pink bow."

"Ok." Ron looked a bit downcast at having to make that promise. "I don't know why you're harping on pink. It's a perfectly fine color."

"Yeah," Ginny said with a sideways glance at Harry.

"I don't wear pink," Hermione said severely.

"Maybe you should," Ron declared, standing up and taking out his wand. Before Hermione had a chance to say another word, he recited an incantation:

"Hermione Is Prettier Than She Thinks,

Whether She's Wearing Blues or Reds or Pinks."

Hermione's jeans and t-shirt looked as if they had been dragged through strawberry ice cream.

"Change it back."

"Didn't think I could do a Color Charm, did you?" Ron asked with one raised eyebrow.

"Change it back," she said through gritted teeth.

He sighed.

"Sunshine, Daisies, Butter Mellow,

Restore This Color And Take Pity On A Fellow."

The pink vanished along with her stern expression. "Oh Ron . . .." A ghost of a smile played around her mouth. "Remind me to give you a decent photo of myself."

Ron slowly started to smile. Then he sat next to her and said something in a low, caressing voice.

Her laugh was husky. Then she whispered something back while she put her arms around Ron's neck.

Harry glanced at Ginny and indicated the door with a tilt of his head. She followed him out into the corridor.

"My brother," Ginny said darkly.

"Meant well," Harry finished for her.

"He is so lucky Hermione is mad about him," Ginny declared. "Honestly, Hermione would be perfectly justified in -"

She never finished because Jeanne rushed up looking more frazzled than normal. "Ginny, Harry - I can't find Mr. Boots anywhere. Will you help me look for him?"

They spent the next hour combing the train for Mr. Boots who had apparently run off with Mrs. Slippers. They gave up at lunchtime.

Ron and Hermione seemed perfectly happy again, although they were both a little quiet. Jeanne made up for this since she couldn't stop fretting aloud about her missing cat. They were swapping Chocolate Frog cards when Luna arrived, holding an agitated ginger cat. Theodore Nott trailed in behind her carrying Mr. Boots.

Jeanne jumped up. "Oh, wherever did you find him? I was so worried," she said as she took the purring black cat away from Theodore Nott.

"In the baggage car," Nott answered briefly. "They were . . ." To Harry's surprise, he turned a shade of red that would have not looked out of place on Ron.

"Mrs. Slippers is in heat," Luna said calmly, reaching for a cloak to wrap around the struggling cat.

Ginny tittered and then piped up, "Oh think of the name possibilities for the kittens of Mr. Boots and Mrs. Slippers!" She giggled. "I think Wellington is appropriate."

"How about Trainer?" Harry suggested.

"Or Miss Stiletto?"

"Doc Martin?"

"Flip flop?"

By the time they had run out of shoe names, Luna had the cat swaddled firmly in the cloak. "We'll just take her back to her owner."

Harry wondered when Mrs. Slippers would have her kittens and if their arrival would be in time for Ginny's birthday. Ron had told him once that Ginny loved cats. Yes, that's what he would do . . .

*

The trip home from Hogwarts always went by quickly, but this year the train appeared to have broken all land-speed records, Harry thought. He couldn't believe he was looking out at the puddles on platform nine and three quarters already . . .

He must have greeted all the Weasleys welcoming Ron and Ginny home - he must have said good-bye to Hermione and Ron - but he didn't remember any of these things because the only thought on his mind was Ginny.

And here she was - standing in front of him, biting her lip. His heart started pounding. He had about one minute to tell her that she was the most important person in the world to him - that he would think about her everyday - that he would miss all their times together - that they would see each other again and they would be happy . . .

Yet he didn't say any of this, because suddenly he was reminded of his birthday and how he had walked her to Mrs. Figg's house, not wanting to say good-bye. "Ginny, will you go with me on the next Hogsmeade weekend?" he asked.

She slowly started to smile. "You're asking me out in June - for a date in October?"

He nodded. "Just the two of us, all day."

Her eyes filled with tears, but she didn't cry. Instead, she put her arms around him and said, "Oh, I do love you."

He hugged her back and answered, "I love you too."

She looked up at him and laughed through her tears. "That wasn't so difficult."

"Nothing ever is with you," he replied.

*****

A/N: Well, that's it. I meant for the ending to be abrupt in order to mirror Harry and Ginny's situation. They aren't going to see each other for a while - and that hurts , Yet Harry's words point to a happy future for both of them, I think.

I can't tell you how much I've enjoyed writing this story. Thanks so much to Jo Wickaninnish, Julu, Nic 83, and hairy_hen, who helped me out along the way. Another huge thank you to all of you who have been reading and reviewing. I don't think SIYE realized they had a forum - considering some of the great discussions on the review thread!

L.M. Montgomery fans will recognize the Rollings Reliable Baking Powder story in Ron's submission of Hermione's paper to The Quibbler.

I would appreciate any feedback you can give me at this point - what you liked, didn't like, etc . . . That is how I learn!

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