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SIYE Time:5:41 on 29th March 2024
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Meaning of One, Part One: Stone and Fire
By Sovran

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Category: Alternate Universe
Characters:Albus Dumbledore, Harry/Ginny, Hermione Granger, Minerva McGonagall, Ron Weasley
Genres: Action/Adventure, Angst, Drama, General, Humor
Warnings: Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 1026
Summary: If two people are deliberately created to be together, how will the challenges in a world of magic and Dark Lords be dealt with? What would it mean for two people to truly become one? A re-imagination of first year.
Hitcount: Story Total: 547581; Chapter Total: 35347
Awards: View Trophy Room




Author's Notes:
The sorting hat's song, along with some of Dumbledore's words, come word-for-word from canon. They're most definitely JKR's.
Thanks to my beta, Jonathan Avery, for his work on this story.




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Harry waited anxiously in the Entrance Hall, listening to the other students. He hoped Ron’s brothers had indeed been joking when they told him the sorting would hurt.

Ginny was sitting in her room concentrating on Harry so she could experience their first day at Hogwarts. Harry could distantly feel the bed beneath her. He thought he could smell something baking, but her eyes were closed and her room was quiet as she focused on his senses. Harry did not mind. He could tell she was just as excited by Hogwarts as he was.

Harry, don’t worry. Mum said it doesn’t hurt at all, and Fred and George will be in trouble for telling Ron that, she told him.

Thanks, Ginny. I hope I don’t mess it up somehow, he replied nervously. Hermione Granger, the bushy-haired witch he had met on the train, was listing off spells under her breath, and Ginny’s brother Ron was muttering something about trolls.

You’ll be fine, I promise. If the twins can do it, then you can, too. Harry grinned as Ginny thought about her mum’s reaction to the twin’s less-than-respectable grades last year. Ginny still suspected that her brothers got exactly the grades they wanted.

Professor McGonagall reappeared to lead the group of students into the great hall. Harry and Ginny looked around the hall in wonder, unable to fully appreciate one amazing feature before finding their eyes drawn to the next. The hundreds of candles floating above their heads, the immense banners, and the incredible ceiling all vied for their attention. At the front of the hall, past the long tables packed with students and in front of a crosswise table full of adults, was a simple three-legged stool. Atop the stool was a very old pointed hat with a broad brim. As the students came to a stop in front of the hat, a tear near the base of the hat opened and, shockingly, the hat began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,
But don't judge on what you see,
I'll eat myself if you can find
A smarter hat than me.
You can keep your bowlers black,
Your top hats sleek and tall,
For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat
And I can cap them all.
There's nothing hidden in your head
The Sorting Hat can't see,
So try me on and I will tell you
Where you ought to be.
You might belong in Gryffindor,
Where dwell the brave at heart,
Their daring, nerve, and chivalry
Set Gryffindors apart;
You might belong in Hufflepuff,
Where they are just and loyal,
Those patient Hufflepuffs are true
And unafraid of toil;
Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,
if you've a ready mind,
Where those of wit and learning,
Will always find their kind;
Or perhaps in Slytherin
You'll make your real friends,
Those cunning folk use any means
To achieve their ends.
So put me on! Don't be afraid!
And don't get in a flap!
You're in safe hands (though I have none)
For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

Harry was relieved to learn that he would simply have to place the hat on his head to be sorted. He decided that the worst that could happen would be that the hat could find him completely unsuitable and send him back to the Dursleys, in which case he would have at least had something of a holiday. And he had met Ginny, which really was a good thing, even if he went back to Little Whinging.

Harry, they’re not going to chuck you out!

Are you sure?

Completely.


Lost in conversation with Ginny, Harry was surprised when Professor McGonagall called out, ”Potter, Harry!” Harry walked up to the stool. Sitting down, he picked up the hat and lowered it onto his head until it completely covered his eyes.

“Hello, Mr. Potter. Let’s have a look at you, shall we?” a tiny voice spoke near his ear. “Well, now, this is interesting. Where’s the rest of you, Mr. Potter?”

“The rest of me, sir?” he whispered.

The hat sounded very matter-of-fact. “Yes, the rest of you. I can’t sort you if I can’t see all of you, now can I?”

Ginny, what’s he talking about?

I don’t know. Everyone gets sorted.


The tiny voice spoke again. “Ah! There’s a bit more to work with. Still not all of you, though.”

I think the hat can hear us, Ginny.

“Of course I can hear you. I’m supposed to see what’s in your head, aren’t I? Now get the rest of you here so we can get you sorted.”

Do you think it means me?

The hat responded directly to Ginny. “Yes, indeed, though I wouldn’t put it that way. Could you join us here? There are more students waiting to be sorted.”

I’m sorry, Mr… err…

“Daffydd, child. Just Daffydd will do. Nobody’s asked my name in decades,” the hat chuckled.

I’m sorry, Daffydd, but I’m not anywhere near Hogwarts. They won’t let me come until next year, when I’m eleven.

“Nonsense! Who’s this ‘they’ to be spouting such rubbish?”

Err… I don’t know who makes the rules, sir. The headmaster, I guess.

The large tear in the hat opened once again as Daffydd spoke for everyone to hear. “Albus! Am I, or am I not, in charge of sorting?”

Harry could not see him, but Dumbledore sounded startled as he replied, “Yes, you are indeed in charge of sorting.”

“So I get to decide how to do the sorting, and who gets sorted where? I get to say who’s allowed to go where, and nobody here can argue with me?” the hat pressed.

“Correct. Even I cannot interfere with your duties. May I ask why you feel the need for such clarification?” the Headmaster asked.

“Perhaps later, old boy.” The hat switched back to the tiny voice that only Harry and Ginny could hear. “You see? I decide who gets to come to Hogwarts, and I decide how the sorting works. Just me, nobody else. Understand?”

Yes, sir, it certainly sounds that way, Ginny replied politely.

“Excellent! Then I say you can come here, and I say you need to come here. I can’t go around sorting people without all the information.”

You mean I could start Hogwarts this year? They’d really let me come?

“Weren’t you listening? ‘They’ is me. I say you can start this year, and I won’t let anyone say otherwise,” Daffydd stated firmly.

It would be great if you could come, Ginny. If you want to, I mean, Harry said.

I’d love to! I’ll see if…

Ginny was considering sneaking past her mother to get to the Floo when, suddenly, it was no longer necessary. As Ginny jumped up from her bed and started towards her door, she disappeared from Ottery St. Catchpole and appeared directly in front of Harry, still taking a step towards him where he sat on the stool.

All the inhabitants of the Great Hall seemed to gasp at once. There had been no noise, no flash of light, and no warning whatsoever. One moment, the space on the floor in front of Harry was empty; the next, a tiny girl with red hair was walking toward Harry Potter, looking confused. As whispers spread across the hall, Dumbledore rose from his seat and began walking around the end of the table to approach the new arrival.

Hermione Granger was the first of the students to recover, to some extent. “That’s impossible!” she cried. “Hogwarts, A History clearly states that . . .” Her voice was drowned out as hundreds of voices started whispering to each other.

Ginny and Harry were as surprised as anyone. Ginny stumbled to a stop, focusing on her own senses but feeling the hundreds of eyes on her back. Harry just stared at her, confused and elated.

Err…hi, he said.

Before Ginny could form any coherent thought, the Sorting Hat spoke in Harry’s ear. “Perfect! Much faster than the Floo, and cleaner too, I daresay. Now, come sit on the stool here with Mr. Potter. Back to back, please.”

Stunned, Ginny did as she was told. It was awkward to perch on the stool with someone else, but Harry and Ginny braced their feet and pressed their backs together almost instinctively.

Professor McGonagall spoke as the Headmaster approached, “Mr. Potter, what is going on here? Who is this? You’re not allowed to be here, child.”

“Hush, Minerva, I’m sorting,” Daffydd said for everyone to hear. “You can wait your turn, too, Albus.”

As it spoke, the old hat began to grow, its tip rising higher as its base widened across the top of Ginny’s head. When it was large enough, it dropped over her forehead and rested on both of their heads, hiding their faces from sight almost completely.

The hat’s tiny voice spoke again in their ears. “Much better. Now then, let’s see what we’ve got, Mr. Potter, Miss…?”

“Weasley, sir. Ginny Weasley,” she whispered.

“Ginny, is it? Are you quite sure?”

“Well… Ginevra, actually.” Harry could feel the warmth of Ginny’s blush.

I think it’s a really pretty name, he said.

“Quite right, Mr. Potter. It’s always best to know who you really are, and that’s close enough for the moment. On to business, then.” The hat paused a moment, as if contemplating something. “Stop that.”

“Stop what, sir?” Harry asked.

“That! You’re doing something to keep you separated somehow. Stop doing it.”

Harry, I think I know what he means. Stop focusing on yourself.

They did as she suggested, letting go of the concentration they had held onto to allow them to move separately. As they relaxed, their senses merged. Each of them could see the inside of the Sorting Hat as it rested on their heads. The sounds and smells were all the same, but seemed clearer somehow. Strangest of all, Harry could feel Ginny’s back pressed against his, and his back pressed against her, at the same time. It was alien and disorienting, but it felt natural, too.

Wow, he thought. She silently agreed, adjusting to the new sensations.

The hat interrupted their contemplation. “Yes, yes, that was it. Well done, and quite handy, I suspect. There’s still a bit of it left, though. Something’s a little fuzzy.”

They knew what they needed to do this time. Each of them reached back to join their hands on the side of the stool where Dumbledore and McGonagall stood.

The moment their hands came in contact, the hat twitched and its voice returned. “Incredible! That’s definitely the right thing to do. Now we can finally get started.”

It was several long moments before Daffydd spoke again. “Well, that’s surprising. Who’d have thought a Slytherin and a Hufflepuff could get along so well? Together, though, that’s something else. Quite a good mind, and more than enough talent to go around. Courage, yes, plenty of courage, sitting up here after an entrance like that. Got something you need to do, I can tell, and you’re quite determined to do it. You would fit anywhere, I suppose. A Potter and a Weasley, though . . . that does point in a certain direction. Better be GRYFFINDOR!”

The last word was shouted to the hall. Ginny reached up and removed the hat from their heads with her free hand. The two quickly reestablished their focus and got up from the stool to see the shocked faces of the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall. Silently, Ginny offered the Sorting Hat to the stern-faced woman.

“Miss Weasley, isn’t it?” the Headmaster asked kindly.

“Yes, sir.”

“Do you happen to know how you came to be here tonight, Miss Weasley?”

“No, sir. I was at home in my room, and then I was here,” she replied.

“I see. Minerva, please contact the Weasleys. Let them know their daughter is safe, and ask them to join us here after the feast. I will complete the Sorting.”

Professor McGonagall nodded and passed the Sorting Hat to the Headmaster before leaving the Great Hall through a small door near the head table.

“Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, please join your house for the feast. Afterwards, we’ll go up to my office to discuss tonight’s events,” he said, leading them towards the group of red heads at the Gryffindor table.

As they approached, three freckled faces stared alternately at Harry and Ginny as the Headmaster addressed them. “Gentlemen, Mr. Potter and your sister will be having dinner with you. I’m afraid they don’t know anything more than you do, so let’s all enjoy our meal for the moment. I’ve sent for your parents, and we’ll meet with them a bit later.”

As Harry and Ginny squeezed onto the bench together, the Headmaster returned to the front of the hall and the last four students were sorted with no interruptions. Ron joined Gryffindor and sat across from Harry at the long table.

“Bloody hell, Ginny, how’d you get here? What was that bit with the hat all about?” he asked incredulously.

“Ronald, the Headmaster has said that neither of them knows what's going on, so it’s best we leave it alone. Mother, Father, and the Professors will discuss the situation after our meal,” Percy declared pompously.

Students from all four tables were craning their heads to look at Harry and Ginny, but everyone near enough to question them had heard Dumbledore’s instructions, so the two were left alone for the moment. Ginny noticed that Hermione Granger, sitting further down the table, was scowling at the table and glancing inquisitively at Ginny or Harry every few seconds.

The Headmaster returned to his chair and turned to face the students. “Welcome to another year at Hogwarts! It seems that we will be enjoying an eventful year. Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

“Thank you!”

Food appeared along the center of each table, and the students began serving themselves in earnest. Harry was amazed at the variety of food available. Even when the Dursleys had important people over for dinner, they had never made food like this. Ron, though clearly confused by his sister’s presence, seemed determined to take the fullest possible advantage of the feast, and Harry and Ginny saw no reason not to enjoy it as well.

As Ginny reached for her pumpkin juice, Harry took a bite of roast beef, and they discovered another problem.

Ugh, pumpkin flavored beef. That’s not a good combination. Harry said as he forced himself to chew.

I was more grossed out by my juice feeling like beef, she said, with a pained expression.

Concentrating all the time is going to get old. I hope we get used to it or something.

For now, let’s eat the same things at the same time,
Ginny suggested. How about roast beef, boiled potatoes, and carrots?

That’s fine with me,
Harry agreed.

Rearranging their plates, they began eating carefully. Fortunately, no one noticed the strange coincidence.

At one point during the meal, Harry glanced up at the head table to find one of the professors glaring at him past Quirrell’s turban. The professor had dark, greasy hair that hung about his pale face and long, hooked nose. When the man’s dark eyes met Harry’s, a sharp pain shot through Harry’s scar. Harry and Ginny both winced and reached for their foreheads as the brooding professor turned to answer a question from Professor Quirrel. As soon as the man was distracted, the pain vanished.

“Harry, Ginny, are you alright?” Percy asked.

Please don’t tell him, Ginny.

“Fine, Percy, just thought I felt something,” she told her brother. Percy gave her a look that Ginny recognized as the first sign of a lecture.

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, hoping to distract Percy. “Who’s that Professor sitting next to Professor Quirrell?”

Percy’s gaze lingered on Harry and Ginny for a moment before he glanced at the head table. “That is Professor Severus Snape, the Potions Master and Head of Slytherin House.”

“He’s a greasy git, and hates anyone who isn’t in Slytherin,” Fred Weasley stated, interrupting Percy.

“Everyone knows he really wants Quirrell’s job teaching Defense Against the Dark Arts. I say he just wants to practice them on students,” George added.

“You two don’t like him because you blew up his classroom in your first year, and he’s never forgotten it,” Percy snapped.

That came from your scar, didn’t it, Harry? Ginny asked, pulling Harry’s attention away from the escalating argument between Percy and the twins.

Yeah. Snape was glaring at me, and it burned. It’s never done that before, he replied.

I hope it doesn’t happen often, then. I don’t think I could ignore that without knowing it was coming, Ginny said. Fortunately, the rest of the feast passed uneventfully, aside from the appearance of a dazzling array of desserts. Harry and Ginny happily shared these, discovering spectacular new flavors and textures as they sampled different combinations.

***

After the feast, Headmaster Dumbledore escorted Harry and Ginny to his office. After stepping behind a stone gargoyle, which moved aside with a whispered word from the Headmaster, they ascended a moving spiral staircase that led to an opulent but somewhat cluttered office. Seated in front of a large desk were Professor McGonagall and Ginny’s parents. The professor had apparently already told the Weasleys what had happened.

“Ginny, dear!” Molly exclaimed, jumping up from her chair to hug Ginny tightly. “We were so worried about you! Are you all right? How did you get here?” Ginny was feeling something Harry could not identify; it was unlike anything he had ever felt, but it was wonderful.

“I’m fine, Mum, and I don’t know how I got here. I was in my bedroom, and then I was here.”

Let’s not say anything about us until we can get the Headmaster alone, okay?

Harry agreed. You can do the talking.

“Albus, what’s going on?” Molly returned to her seat, and Ginny took the remaining chair. Harry moved to stand at the back of the group, but Ginny stopped him.

Don’t be silly, Harry. This chair is big enough for both of us.

Unwilling to argue with her, Harry sat next to her in the chair, which was indeed large enough for the two small children to share comfortably.

“That’s an excellent question, Molly,” Dumbledore replied, crossing the office to his chair. “I can only say that she did not apparate, nor did she use a portkey. Hogwarts’ wards prevent apparition, as you know, and I would have known immediately if a portkey was used inside the castle. Clearly she did not arrive by Floo either, because she materialized near the front of the Great Hall, well away from any of our fireplaces. I’m afraid I simply don’t know how she did it.”

“I’m sorry to have caused any trouble, Professor. I truly didn’t try to do anything. I was just suddenly standing there in front of Harry,” Ginny explained.

Rule number one: always apologize early if my parents are upset. It makes them think you’re innocent.

“Ah, yes, how rude of me. Arthur, Molly, this is Harry Potter.” Harry nodded at the two adults and received distracted smiles in return.

Professor McGonagall spoke up for the first time. “Perhaps you could tell us what happened from your perspective, Miss Weasley.”

Ginny nodded. “Yes, ma’am. I was at home in my room, thinking about Hogwarts and all my brothers being here. I got up to go downstairs, and then I found myself in the Great Hall. I wasn’t sure what had happened, but I knew I had to be at Hogwarts. Then I heard the Sorting Hat in my ear, telling me to sit on the stool with Harry. I did, and then he talked about the houses a bit and shouted ‘Gryffindor’.”

That’s really impressive, Ginny. You didn’t tell one lie.

Ginny was going to reply when the Headmaster addressed Harry. “Mr. Potter, perhaps you could tell us what happened before Miss Weasley appeared?”

Now you get to try, Harry.

“Yes, sir. The hat was trying to sort me, and I guess he was looking into my head. He asked me who the red-haired girl I’d met this morning was, and I told him her name. The hat talked to you about authority, and then Ginny was standing there. I heard him ask her to join me on the stool. Then, like she said, he talked about the houses and sent us to Gryffindor.”

Top marks, Potter.

He sent her a mental grin, careful not to let it show on his face.

“Curiouser and curiouser,” Dumbledore commented with a quick glance at Harry, who had the feeling that he had not entirely fooled the greatest wizard in the world. But the Headmaster simply turned to the Sorting Hat, which was now sitting on a stand nearby. “Daffydd, would you care to explain?”

“There’s not much else to say, Albus. I saw Miss Weasley in Potter’s memory, and I thought she should be here. I don’t know how she got here, but since she did, I sorted her.” Harry swore that a tiny wrinkle in the hat winked at them as it spoke.

“What made you decide she needed to be here now?” the Headmaster asked. “Surely you’ve seen her before in her brothers’ memories.”

Daffydd huffed. “She was very young the last time I saw her that way. Besides, Albus, how do you suppose Aberforth felt about you when you were ten?”

“Ah, I see. The viewpoint of a brother is different from that of a friend,” Dumbledore observed.

Friends, Harry? They both knew the answer already, but it was comforting to hear the words.

I sure hope so, Ginny. This would be very hard, otherwise.

Friends, then.


“Why did you choose to sort Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley at the same time?” McGonagall asked.

“I didn’t see any reason I couldn’t look at them both at once, Minerva. The whole thing was taking too long, and they were hungry. It’s not traditional, but neither is a student appearing in the middle of the sorting.”

Mrs. Weasley interrupted the conversation. “Albus, this is all quite interesting, but I think we’d like to get Ginny home and to bed now. It’s been a very stressful evening.”

“Understandable, Molly, but it’s not that simple. Allow me just a moment more.” Turning back to the Sorting Hat, Dumbledore asked, “Daffydd, to be perfectly clear, did you intend to sort both Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley into Gryffindor?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t do to have part of them someplace and the other part somewhere else, would it?”

“I find that I’ve never enjoyed riddles, no matter what purpose they serve,” the old wizard muttered to no one in particular.

“It’s good for you, old boy. Broadens the mind, and whatnot.” With that, the tattered hat sagged slightly and began emitting soft, thready snores.

“Well, we seem to have exhausted that avenue of inquiry,” the Headmaster observed. He looked thoughtful for a moment and then spoke once again, addressing the space to the right of his desk. “Blinkin?”

A small creature with enormous eyes and large flaps for ears appeared next to the Headmaster with a soft ‘pop’. “Headmaster needs Blinkin?”

“Yes, Blinkin. Could you please tell me how many beds there are in the Gryffindor first year girls’ dormitory?”

“There is four, sir. Four beds, but only three trunks. We is looking for another trunk, but we isn’t finding it yet. Blinkin is very sorry.”

“I don’t think there is a fourth trunk to be found, so there’s no need for you to search for it. Thank you, Blinkin.,” Professor Dumbledore assured him.

“Blinkin is happy to help, sir.” The creature bowed slightly then disappeared with another soft ‘pop’.

The headmaster turned to Professor McGonagall. “Am I correct that only three girls were sorted into Gryffindor prior to Miss Weasley’s arrival?”

“Yes, Headmaster. Lavender Brown, Hermione Granger, and Parvati Patil.”

“As I suspected. Your memory continues to be flawless, Minerva.”

With a slight sigh, the Headmaster addressed the Weasley parents. “Molly, Arthur, you may not realize that the castle itself is part of the sorting ceremony. At the beginning of the feast, each of the first year dormitories is empty. As each student is sorted, a bed, nightstand, and a wardrobe appear in the appropriate dormitory along with that student’s trunk. If there are four beds in the Gryffindor first year girls’ room, then four girls were sorted into Gryffindor for the new school term.

“That might explain Miss Weasley’s arrival this evening, as well. If the Sorting Hat decided she should attend, Hogwarts itself may have acted to bring her here.”

It did not take long for Molly Weasley to reach the obvious conclusion. “Albus, you can’t be serious! Ginny’s only just had her tenth birthday. She’s not old enough to attend Hogwarts.”

“The age requirement is intended to ensure a certain level of magical development, Molly. If the Sorting Hat and the castle itself have accepted her, then your daughter has reached that level. More importantly, her acceptance means she’s been added to the magical roster of students. The only way to remove her from that roster is to expel her, which would make it very difficult to readmit her next year. The paperwork involved is really quite intimidating. I’m afraid she is effectively obligated to attend.”

Mr. Weasley spoke up, hesitantly. “Albus, that makes five of them. I’m not sure we can…”

The Headmaster interrupted him quickly. “Let’s not worry about that right now, Arthur. Rest assured that we’ll work something out.”

Ginny, what’s your dad worried about? You’ll be able to stay, right?

I think I know what it is, Harry. Our family is… well, we’re not exactly rich. It’s never really bothered us very much, but Dad wasn’t planning for five of us to be here at the same time until next year.


The solution seemed simple enough to Harry. Pulling his still-bulging money pouch from beneath his robes, he silently placed it in front of the Headmaster. “Is this enough, sir? I can get more.”

The four adults started, having largely forgotten Harry was there. They were baffled by his seemingly instant understanding of the situation.

Harry! You shouldn’t do that. That’s your money. You’ll need it.

Look, Ginny.
He remembered visiting his vault with Hagrid and seeing the piles and piles of coins. Do you have any idea how much that is?

He felt her shock clearly. No. I’ve never seen that much money. I didn’t know there was that much money.

I don’t know how much it is either,
he admitted. What am I supposed to do with all that? The money for Hogwarts has already been taken out for all seven years. I got this bag of Galleons, and Hagrid said I could buy everything I saw for the whole year with what’s in it.

Mrs. Weasley was the first adult to speak. “Harry, dear, that’s not necessary. You’ll need that money for other things, and it wouldn’t be right for you to pay for Ginny to go to school.”

“I’ve got five school uniforms and two sets of robes and all those supplies from the list, and I’ve got a great owl, too. I can’t imagine what else I could possibly buy,” Harry shrugged. “Ginny’s my friend. I’d like her to be able to come to school this year, if she wants to.”

I want to. I really want to. But it’s not right to take people’s money.

Okay then, your birthday was last month. Happy birthday, Ginny.


The two parents looked shocked at his statement, but it did not appear to distract them from their refusal.

Before the Weasleys’ pride could become involved too much, the Headmaster intervened. “Molly, you may recall that Hogwarts has a small scholarship fund designed to encourage promising students to attend without hardship. The very fact that Miss Weasley has been sorted this evening shows exceptional promise. Would you object to her receiving a scholarship from the school based on that potential?”

Mrs. Weasley could hardly object to this, since it was coming from the school and was a great honor for her daughter. She nodded reluctantly.

“Excellent. Minerva, please make the appropriate arrangements.” The Headmaster turned to Harry, his eyes twinkling once again. “Now, Mr. Potter, might you care to make a voluntary donation to the Hogwarts Scholarship Fund? We can transfer the money directly from your vault at Gringott’s if that’s more convenient for you.”

Mrs. Weasley huffed at this, but did not interfere.

That’s great! I’ve never seen anyone put one over on Mum, Ginny commented.

Harry grinned openly. “Yes, Headmaster, please do.” He thought for a moment. “Are there other students at school right now who could use help like that, sir?”

“Yes, Mr. Potter. Unfortunately, there are usually several students at the school who require assistance of some kind.”

“Could you take enough money from my vault for more of those scholarships this year, then? Four, maybe; one for each house. Do I have enough money for that?” Harry asked.

I think it’s great of you to help other people, too, Harry.

That’s why I did it.


“I’m quite positive that you do, Mr. Potter,” Dumbledore answered him. “Are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

“Yes, sir, but please don’t tell anyone where the money came from.”

“We will allow you to remain anonymous in the records, and I’m certain no one here will share your secret. As a representative of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I thank you for your generous contribution. Would you mind sharing your books and materials with Miss Weasley during classes tomorrow? We’ll have a set of supplies for her by the next day, I’m sure.”

“That’s fine with me, sir. She can probably wear my second set of robes, too.”

“Excellent, Mr. Potter. Molly, do you have a wand for Miss Weasley?” Mrs. Weasley nodded.

Ginny leaned against Harry in their chair and wrapped her arms around him. The strange feeling was even stronger this time.

Thank you, Harry.

Harry turned to her and smiled slightly. You want to be here, Ginny.

Ginny beamed at him and squeezed him more tightly.

Mrs. Weasley had another objection. “Albus, I don’t suppose I object to Ginny starting school this year, if the Sorting Hat says she can and all the arrangements work out. It will probably be better for her to not spend the year at home without her brothers. But… well, you remember her fifth birthday?”

“Ah, yes, I do indeed.”

What does your fifth birthday have to do with anything? Harry asked.

Every child in my family is tested for magical strength on their fifth birthday; there’s a spell that shows how strong a witch or wizard can eventually be. All of my brothers are pretty strong, but my results were really low. They’re worried that I’m not strong enough yet to attend classes.

Ginny remembered the test from five years ago, and Harry saw the green aura she had produced. He also saw the bright, multicolored sphere Ron had produced when he was five.

Do the colors mean anything? he asked.

Some people think so, but nobody agrees on what they mean, so most everyone thinks they’re random. According to the Quibbler, everyone in the Weasley family is destined to do great things in gardening. Mum’s the only one who likes to garden, and she has the Prewitt’s blue and yellow colors. Hers is much brighter than mine, too.

Wait, that’s it!
Ginny exclaimed. Her intuition went by too quickly for Harry to know immediately what she had realized.

“Headmaster, could you perform the test again?” she asked Dumbledore.

“If you wish, Miss Weasley. I hope you are aware that the results do not change with additional attempts. Do you remember your test?”

“Yes, sir,” she replied confidently. “I know what it meant, too. But if you could cast it again, I’d really appreciate it.”

“Very well. I see no reason not to. Sit still, please, Miss Weasley.” Ginny put her hands in her lap and sat up straight as the headmaster began a long incantation.

As he finished speaking and flicked his wand sharply at Ginny, a sphere of light enveloped her and Harry where he sat next to her. The sphere extended into the floor below their feet and almost to the ceiling above their heads. The emerald green of Ginny’s original sphere was still there, but now it was evenly mixed with vivid red and deep purple in a complex pattern of bands and whorls. The entire sphere glowed brightly, drowning out the candlelight and bathing the room in an eerie collage of the three gem-like colors.

From inside, Harry and Ginny could see that the pattern of colors ran all the way through the sphere. Tendrils of each color wound sinuously from the surface towards the center, all seeming to lead to the same point. They could dimly see the shapes of the other inhabitants of the room, but the colors were bright enough that they were only dark patches beyond the shifting light.

After a few moments, the spell expired and the sphere vanished. As the adults in the room stared at her, Ginny explained her request to Harry.

That’s the feeling we’ve been trying to figure out, Harry. It’s magical power. I never had much of it, so the feeling was sort of familiar but much stronger than I’ve ever felt. You’ve always had it, so you got used to it and stopped noticing. When we did whatever it was we did, it got a lot stronger for me and didn’t change for you. Then when we were holding hands, it changed for both of us, right? It… fit better, or something.

It was more comfortable, you said.
Harry commented.

Yes, exactly. I bet if we did that test while we were touching, the light would be even brighter.

Their conversation had only taken a few seconds, and the other people in the room were still staring at Ginny. She spoke up again. “Err, Headmaster, I know this sounds odd, but could you cast the spell one more time?”

Unable or unwilling to object, Dumbledore began the incantation again. This time, however, as the old wizard finished the spell, Ginny reached across and took Harry’s hand where it rested on his lap.

The resulting sphere extended into the floor, the ceiling, and the wall behind them. It stretched far enough across the room that it encompassed Professor McGonagall and the Weasleys. On the other side of his desk, Dumbledore was just beyond its edges. The huge mass of light glowed brightly with the same three colors, but this time the complex pattern of colors was actually moving across the surface and within the interior of the sphere. All six people in the room were entranced by the shifting colors until the spell wore off. As the light faded, Ginny released Harry’s hand and returned to her original position.

The elderly wizard finally found his voice, but the characteristic twinkle in his eyes was missing. “That was… quite remarkable, Miss Weasley. It seems that I should no longer attempt to tell you what can and cannot happen.”

“Albus, how... what …?” Mrs. Weasley’s question trailed off when she could not find words to complete it.

“Again, I have no idea. I will most certainly attempt to determine both how Miss Weasley originally arrived here and how the results of that spell could change so dramatically. However, there is no question that she is more than qualified to attend Hogwarts, and I suspect she will excel in her classes.”

After another minute of thoughtful silence, Dumbledore’s eyes regained their liveliness. He stood and clapped his hands gleefully. “Well, then, it seems we’ve sorted out our sorting. Molly, if you’d be so kind as to send along Ginny’s clothes and personal items when you return home, we’ll see that she gets everything else she needs.”

Mrs. Weasley nodded and rose to pull Ginny into a hug. “Now, dear, I know you’ve been allowed to attend, but you’re still younger than your classmates, so pay close attention and be sure to do your homework. Let Percy know if you have any questions, and send us an owl if you need something from home that we don’t pack up for you.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Ginny said before her mother could continue. She moved to hug her father, who squeezed her tightly.

“You’re a good girl, Ginny. We’ll see you soon,” he whispered to her. He then took his wife’s hand and pulled her firmly towards the fireplace.

“Bye, Daddy.”

Once the Weasley parents had exited through the fireplace, the headmaster turned to the students and smiled mischievously. “Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley, welcome to Hogwarts. Perhaps there’s something else you’d like to tell me, now that the elder Weasleys have left?”

Involuntarily, they both glanced at Professor McGonagall, who was still sitting in her chair. Dumbledore saw their glance and interpreted it correctly. “Professor McGonagall will be your Head of House. You should trust her with anything you would entrust to me. Personally, I would trust her with my life.”

By silent consent, Ginny started their story. “Sir, since Harry and I met on the platform this morning, we’ve been… sharing things. That doesn’t really seem like the right word, but I don’t know how else to describe it. We can talk to each other in our heads. We share thoughts and feelings. We even see each other’s memories and can… err… experience things together.”

To his credit, the Headmaster did not immediately disregard her claim. “You two are certainly full of surprises today. Let’s take those things one at a time, shall we?” Dumbledore asked, and they nodded. “First, you said you can talk to each other in your heads. Perhaps you’d be willing to demonstrate that for us?”

“Yes, sir, if you tell us what to do.” Ginny said.

Dumbledore thought for a moment. “Miss Weasley, please go with Professor McGonagall into my library, through that door. Mr. Potter and I will stay here. I’ll tell Mr. Potter something, which I’ll ask him to repeat to you in your mind. Then you can tell Professor McGonagall what I said, and she can repeat it to me to see if it’s the same. Do you understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Ginny answered, “but that’s not really going to work. I could just hear it when you tell it to Harry.”

“I will place a silencing charm on the door, Miss Weasley,” said McGonagall.

“Yes, Professor, but I meant that I could just hear it through Harry’s ears, like he does. That’s part of what I meant by our experiencing things together.”

The two professors exchanged a surprised and skeptical glance, then the Headmaster said, “Well, then, perhaps we’ll just conduct this test as a place to start, and then talk about how it works.”

Ginny and Professor McGonagall went into the next room, and the door glowed briefly as a silencing charm was cast.

“Now, Mr. Potter, please tell Miss Weasley that ‘the rain in Spain falls mainly in the plain.’”

“She heard you, sir,” he replied. “Professor McGonagall is saying that your taste in entertainment has always baffled her.”

“Well, that certainly does seem to prove that you can communicate. Please ask Miss Weasley and Minerva to stay in the room for a moment more.” Harry nodded that they agreed to do so. “You said that Miss Weasley hears what I’m saying, and vice versa. Do your other senses, like touch and sight, work the same way?”

“Yes, Professor. Taste and smell, too. Never try pumpkin juice mixed with roast beef, sir.”

The old man chuckled. “I will try to avoid that. What I’d like you to do now is to ask Miss Weasley to close her eyes, and have her ask Professor McGonagall to put something in her hand. I’ll ask you to describe the object for me. Then we’ll try different objects.”

“Yes, sir. The Professor’s gone to fetch something now.” Harry closed his eyes and held his hand out in front of him, palm up, in an unconscious imitation of Ginny’s pose in the other room. “Oh, this is a quill. It’s very long, and it’s been sharpened recently. I think there might be some ink left on the tip; it’s rather sticky.”

“I am afraid I have the bad habit of not cleaning my quills properly, Mr. Potter. Try another item.”

“We’re not sure what this is. It’s round, basically, but it’s made up of metal strips and bars. There are two bands of metal that go all the way around it, like a cage. In the middle, there’s a metal disk that spins inside the cage. The disk isn’t solid, either; it’s got spokes like a bicycle wheel.”

“Ah, yes. A rather obscure muggle toy of mine. I’m not at all surprised that you don’t recognize it. Another item, if you please.”

It was a moment before Harry spoke this time. His hand turned over so that his palm faced the floor. “Your cat is very soft, Headmaster. What’s its name?”

Dumbledore chuckled merrily. “That cat isn’t mine, Mr. Potter. She belongs to no one but herself, and I’m afraid she’s never told me her name.”

“Ow!” Harry cried out suddenly, yanking his hand to his chest. “I don’t think she likes to have her belly rubbed, Headmaster.”

“I daresay she doesn’t. Please ask the ladies to rejoin us now.”

Ginny, with one of her fingers stuck in her mouth, came into the room, followed by the older woman. Dumbledore and McGonagall quickly determined that Harry had accurately reported everything Ginny had heard and felt, including the pain when the cat had swiped at Ginny’s hand.

“Well,” the Headmaster concluded, “it seems that you can indeed communicate silently, as well as see, hear, and feel things together. From what you said earlier, I’m willing to believe you can also share tastes and scents. I’d like to try one other experiment before moving on, if I may.” They nodded again. “Both of you please turn your chairs to face each other and close your eyes. Minerva, please watch to ensure that they aren’t peeking. Now, Mr. Potter, please touch Miss Weasley’s nose with your right index finger.”

Harry reached out and put his finger directly on the tip of Ginny’s nose. She giggled without opening her eyes.

“Yes, thank you. Now, Miss Weasley, please hold Harry’s left earlobe between the thumb and second finger of your left hand.” Ginny reached across their bodies, twisted her wrist, and grasped Harry’s ear gently as instructed. “Excellent. That will do nicely.”

The two students opened their eyes and turned back towards Dumbledore’s desk as he continued. “Have you had any problems handling your shared sensations?”

Ginny said, “At first, Headmaster. We got confused about who was facing what direction on the platform, and we ran into each other. Since then we’ve figured out that we can focus on what our own bodies are doing and tune out the rest. It’s still hard, especially with things that surprise us.”

“Then I certainly advise you to practice that skill if it makes your situation less confusing,” the Headmaster advised. “You also said that the two of you share feelings, and can see each other’s memories?”

“Yes, sir. I’ve seen some of Harry’s problems with his aunt and uncle, and he’s seen what it’s like to fly in the paddock behind my house, among other things,” she replied.

“And the shared feelings?”

“I don’t know how else to describe that, sir. If something makes one of us happy, we both feel happy. When we came into your office, I was happy to see my parents, but Harry was worried that we’d get in trouble. So we both felt happy and worried.”

“We’ll take your word for that, as well, I suppose.” Dumbledore paused for a moment, staring at the ceiling above his desk. “Tell me, Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley. How do each of you, or both of you, feel about this arrangement?”

Ginny answered without hesitation. “We like it, sir. We’re still getting used to it, and it’s very awkward sometimes, but overall it’s nice. It feels… natural, maybe, or comfortable. I wouldn’t want to go back to the old way.” Harry nodded his agreement.

“That’s fortunate, I suppose, since we have no idea how long it might last.” Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair to look at them directly. “Harry, Ginny, I have to admit to you that I’ve never heard of anything like this. The wizarding world has thousands of years of history, folk tales, and even myths, but none of them mention sharing things the way you do. The only known spell this seems to have anything in common with is the Wedding Charm, but even that is only a small part of what you seem to be experiencing.”

“What’s the Wedding Charm, sir?” Ginny asked.

“Have you ever attended a wizarding wedding, Miss Weasley?” She shook her head. “At our weddings, just after the couple is pronounced, the officiant casts the Wedding Charm. For a few seconds, the emotions of the married couple are projected outwards for everyone present to feel. During that time, the couple can feel each other’s emotions as you two seem to do all the time. It’s a very personal experience, so most people don’t talk about it outside the wedding itself.”

Harry and Ginny felt a little embarrassed by this, though they weren’t sure why.

“I must ask you once again, Miss Weasley. Do you have any idea how you came to Hogwarts this evening?”

“No, sir, I really don’t.” Ginny explained what had really happened before and after she arrived, including the hat’s refusal to sort Harry without her there and its insistence that they not try to separate themselves while being sorted.

“Thank you for telling me that. I shall have to investigate how the castle might have brought you here.” After a pause, the Headmaster said, “I understand that you did not want your parents to know everything, but I hope you realize that you’ll have to tell them sooner or later. I caution you not to speak of this with your fellow students, except perhaps Messrs. Weasley. I leave it to you to decide when to talk to them.”

Harry and Ginny both nodded apprehensively.

“If you experience anything else unusual or if you have questions, I encourage you to come and see me. I hope you will both exercise discretion in your use of these abilities. You will each be required to do your own work in classes. Now, it’s very late, and I’m sure we all have very busy days ahead of us tomorrow. Professor McGonagall will show you to Gryffindor tower and see that you’re settled properly. Miss Weasley, your things from home should be along shortly, and they will be delivered to your room as soon as they arrive. Goodnight, and sleep well.”

Harry and Ginny left the office and followed their Head of House to Gryffindor tower. Their thoughts were full of happy speculation about what the next day would bring for them both. Neither they nor Professor McGonagall noticed that they were holding hands as they walked.
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