Get your Bat Bogey hexes ready, since this is the chapter where Harry and Dumbledore meet.
Thanks as always to cwarbeck for her editing magic and the speed with which she returns the chapters. Thanks also to Peter/MyGinevra for his valued opinions on a couple of scenes. If you aren't reading his brilliant The Hogs Head, I strongly recommend you do so . . . after you've read this chapter, of course.
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Saving Harry | ||||||
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Category: Pre-OotP, Alternate Universe, Buried Gems Characters:All Genres: Angst, Drama, Romance Warnings: Violence Story is Complete Rating: R Reviews: 1040 Summary: What if JKR had never intended the Harry Potter series to be for children? How would Harry’s time at the Dursleys been written? This story focuses on the years Harry lived in the cupboard under the stairs at number four Privet Drive, as well as his first appearance at Hogwarts. The treatment he receives during his decade there is not described in fairy tale terms. The boy who initially develops is not the Harry Potter we know. The story is liberally AU, with different personality traits, events, and relationships used to reflect the changes in this very different Harry and the environment in which he grew up. In the end, through the assistance of a certain redheaded young lady, Harry ultimately finds the life he should have had and rediscovers the qualities he always had inside of him. While I am not a psychologist or child development expert, the symptoms, actions, and behaviors portrayed reflect the realities of child abuse. Appropriate disclosures will be contained in the Author’s Notes above the chapter when warranted. Hitcount: Story Total: 340828; Chapter Total: 14868 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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“Harry?” The small boy looked over his shoulder, his eyes blazing yet hard as a diamond. His arm remained pointed towards the ceiling where a book floated above the bed. Suddenly his arm slashed violently downward. Whomp! The redhead jumped at the explosive motion and the sound of the book smashing into the mattress. “Ginny,” he said in a toneless voice. With eyes wide, she asked in a shaky voice, “What’s wrong, Harry?” The boy, noticing the timbre of her voice and the scared, questioning look in her eyes, slumped onto the bed. “I’m sorry, Ginny,” he whispered. The boy disappeared inside himself, his face and eyes blank, yet conveying a pain so deep Ginny moved towards him without thinking. “Why were you doing that with the book?” she asked hesitantly. The red-haired girl looked like she wanted to hug him, but shook her head and instead sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the boy. He appeared startled by her question and turned slightly, picked up the book, and placed it on the desk. His voice was so soft that Ginny leaned forward to hear the words. “I was thinking the book was Dumbledore.” Ginny couldn’t stifle her gasp. “Why was it Professor Dumbledore?” Harry’s eyes moved from the book to the young girl sitting in front of him, noticing her look of surprise at his frown. “I overheard Professor McGonagall and your mum talking downstairs when I came out of the loo.” His eyes closed for a few seconds. When they reopened, he blinked several times to compose himself. “The professor said Dumbledore was trying to figure out how much to tell me.” He heard Ginny’s breath catch in her chest. “He’s afraid I can’t control my emotions and I’ll explode or stop talking again.” Ginny reacted without thought, overwhelmed by a feeling she couldn’t quite identify. She wrapped the boy in an awkward hug, standing in front of Harry and leaning down, her arms around his shoulders and her head next to his. After a few uncomfortable seconds, his hands settled lightly on her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, Harry,” she whispered. “He just doesn’t understand.” Ginny pulled back from the hug, but both children kept their hands on the other’s shoulders. Harry looked to the space on the bed to his right, and then back to Ginny. She sat down next to him and instinctively wrapped her arm around his waist. His hands settled in his lap. “Gin, he’s still trying to control my life. He won’t even talk to me. I don’t understand why he wants to keep me in the dark like I’m some kind of mushroom.” Ginny looked at him with a confused expression on her face. “Like a mushroom?” Harry snorted. “It’s a Muggle saying, I guess. It means, uh, keeping someone in the dark,” Ginny nodded her understanding, “and, uh, shovelling, um, manure on them.” Ginny started laughing, while Harry faintly smiled at her. Finally, she calmed down and with a wicked grin, she asked, “That’s how mushrooms are grown?” “Rrright in one, Miss Weasssley,” Harry replied in his best impression of Professor McGonagall’s Scottish-accented ‘teacher’s voice.’ Both kids started to laugh. After a few moments, though, Harry’s expression turned disconsolate. “This is so much harder than I thought it would be,” Harry said, looking at his feet. “I know he’s not telling me everything.” Ginny reached over and placed her hand on his. “We should talk with my mum or dad. They may have some ideas.” Harry looked sharply at her. You can’t trust adults. I shouldn’t have said anything to her. In the next moment, though, another thought came to him. It’s Mr and Mrs Weasley. They’ve always been honest with me. “Are you sure they won’t just say ‘Trust Professor Dumbledore?’” Ginny paused, obviously thinking about Harry’s question. “They do trust Professor Dumbledore. But I think they will listen to you.” She took a deep breath. “I think it’s worth talking with them.” Harry’s emerald eyes bored into hers. “Good. That’s what we’ll do, then.” They got up from the bed, and Ginny automatically switched hands, so her left was now holding Harry’s right hand. Neither child seemed to notice, as they sped down the stairs, skipping the squeaky third step as usual. Mrs Weasley looked up as the two children entered the kitchen, smiling to herself when she saw they were unselfconsciously holding hands. Both sat down at the table opposite her. “Why are you two still awake?” she asked curiously. “Mum, we have a problem and need your help,” Ginny explained. She smiled at the two children and their serious faces. “Well, tell me about it, and I’ll see what I can do.” Ginny turned to Harry. After exchanging a brief glance, he looked at Mrs Weasley. “I’m sorry, but I overheard you talking with Professor McGonagall, when I came out of the loo.” Mrs Weasley quickly scrolled through several emotions — surprise, mild irritation, but then settling on curiosity. “What did you hear us saying, Harry?” He looked down at the table, then felt Ginny’s hand search for his and grasp it with a warming squeeze. “The professor said Dum, err, Professor Dumbledore had to decide how much to tell me.” He heard a harsh intake of air from Mrs Weasley, and he felt a cold anger begin to flow through him. Ginny leaned over and whispered in his ear, “It’s okay, Harry. Just tell her.” He looked briefly at the redhead, then took a deep breath, feeling the anger recede. “He was worried I’d explode or stop talking. That’s when I went back to my room.” “I understand why that would upset you, Harry,” Mrs Weasley said softly. “You missed two important parts of our conversation, though. May I tell you about them?” He nodded his head vigorously. “At the beginning of our talk, Min, uh, Professor McGonagall told me that Professor Dumbledore wanted to do the very best thing he could for you and wanted to put a lot of time and thought into the best way to give you the information you requested. You’re concerned he wants to make all the decisions for you, aren’t you?” Harry nodded. “He hasn’t even talked with me. He just makes decisions and tells me what to do. Live at the Dursleys, learn magic, go to Hogwarts, live with the Weasleys,” he looked up, “which is the only good decision yet.” Some heat had returned to Harry’s voice, so Ginny began to softly run her thumb over the back of his hand. In a much more normal tone, he said, “I just want to know what’s going on. Why I seem to be different than anybody else.” “That’s a good point, Harry. Why don’t I contact the headmaster and Professor McGonagall and ask them to come here as soon as they can? Would you like me to do that?” Both children smiled. “That would be great, Mrs Weasley.” “Thanks, Mum.” She smiled. “Now, it’s late, you two. Time for both of you to be in bed.” When the two children stood up, she said, “Come here. You both deserve big hugs for coming to me with your concerns. Alright, Harry?” He answered by walking to the woman and leaning into her side, while Ginny did the same on her mum’s other side. Both children put an arm around her, while Mrs Weasley pulled them close. Ginny snaked her arm around Harry’s waist, and after a few moment’s hesitation, he placed his around her back. Harry savoured this new feeling. Finally, they broke apart. “Goodnight, Ginny, Harry,” Mrs Weasley said. “Goodnight, Mum.” “G’night, Mrs Weasley.” As they disappeared up the stairs, Molly Weasley whispered to herself, “Sweet dreams, children.” The two kids stopped when they reached the landing between the two bedrooms. Ginny smiled. “G’night, Harry.” “Goodnight, Ginny.” But as she turned to enter her bedroom, Harry put a hand on her shoulder. She looked back curiously. “Thanks, Ginny. That was a good suggestion.” She beamed. “Of course it was, Mr Potter.” She giggled. “I’m glad we talked with Mum.” “Me, too. See you in the morning,” he said. “Not if I see you first.” By the time Ginny got the words out, she was laughing loudly. Harry joined her laughter. “Good one, Gin.” Both children retired to their bedrooms, smiles lighting their faces. Sleep came quickly, and the night passed without any interruptions. When Harry straggled down to breakfast the next morning, all of the Weasleys were already seated at the large kitchen table. Mrs Weasley shot out of her chair when she saw the boy. “Good morning, Harry dear,” Mrs Weasley greeted him with a smile. “Sit down while I get a plate together for you.” “Th . . . thanks, Mrs Weasley.” Harry looked around the table and smiled to himself. The boys, except for Percy, had briefly looked up when he entered the kitchen, nodded their greeting, and quickly returned to devouring their breakfast. Percy, who never seemed to be without a book, nodded at Harry and returned to the book he was reading. As Harry walked around the table to sit next to Ginny, he glimpsed the title of the book Percy was reading, Compendium of Crafty Charms and their Cunning Creators. Mr Weasley smiled as Harry walked by him. “Good morning, lad.” The elder Weasley subtly placed his hand on the corner of the table, and Harry quickly reciprocated with a quick squeeze of the man’s hand. “Good mor . . . ning,” he replied with a smile. Ginny’s head was being held up by her hands or else the young girl’s face would be using her scrambled eggs as a pillow. She hadn’t moved as Harry entered the kitchen, greeted her family, and sat down next to her. Harry smiled mischievously. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he whispered. “Hush, you,” the young girl mumbled, bumping him lightly with her shoulder. “I’m still asleep. Don’t wake me up.” Ron had witnessed the exchange. “Ginny would stay in bed all day if Mum would let her.” Without raising her head, Ginny tore off a small piece of toast and lobbed it in Ron’s direction. He caught it while still in the air and grinned. “Thanks, Gin, it’s okay to toss anything else you want.” He popped the piece of toast in his mouth. She ignored his teasing, but her head shot up at her mum’s next statement. “Harry, I spoke with Professor McGonagall earlier this morning. She and Professor Dumbledore will visit us today around three o’clock.” Four heads snapped up, as each of the Weasley boys first looked at their mum, then Harry. Noting the boys’ curiosity, Mrs Weasley’s eyes narrowed. “I do not want you boys bugging Harry about the meeting today with his new professors. Is that understood?” Percy nodded as if her request was unnecessary. The other three looked slightly rebellious but remained silent as they nodded their heads, then looked at Harry with expressions that said they would be talking to him later. Harry looked at Mrs Weasley. “I would like Ginny to be there, please.” Harry heard a small gasp as Ginny reacted to his request. He saw the immediate disapproving expression on Mrs Weasley’s face, then Mr Weasley’s hand moved over and grasped his wife’s hand. She looked at her husband and seconds later turned her gaze back to Harry. “That would be fine, dear.” A small, warm hand found his and squeezed. “Thanks, Harry,” was said so quietly only he could hear the words. He turned and smiled at the young girl who was now wide awake. “Boys,” Mrs Weasley’s voice returned to its command mode. “I want the garden weeded this morning, with no lollygagging or throwing of dirt clods. Ginny, we have cleaning to do inside. Harry, you can do whatever you want.” “I’ll help weed, Mrs Weasley . . .” “What?” Fred looked shocked. “Are you barmy?” George asked, his eyes wide in amazement. “Who’d volunteer to weed?” Ron had a confused expression on his face. Harry began to laugh and was quickly joined by Ginny, then Mr and Mrs Weasley. When they calmed down, Harry said, “Weeding the garden was one of my chores at the . . . uh . . . other place.” Everyone nodded. “I actually enjoyed it, because it gave me a chance to get outside and to make something look better.” He shrugged his shoulders. George laughed. “I was right. He is barmy.” “Another worker means it will go faster. Thanks, Harry,” Fred added. “Time for everyone to get going,” Mrs Weasley said. “Once you’re dressed, see me to get a Sun charm before you go outside. Before he got up, Ginny leaned close to him. “Good move, Potter.” He looked at her and laughed at the mocking expression on her face. “Hey, Weasley, I really don’t mind helping.” She grinned. “Ooookay. Whatever you say.” They got up and walked up the stairs. When they reached their landing, Harry bumped shoulders with her. “Have fun working inside, while we’re out in the sunshine.” He entered his bedroom, while Ginny snorted and went into her room. Weeding in the garden, lunch, then more reading — this time from the Defence Against the Dark Arts, Grade 2 book — made the time speed by unnoticed, until Mrs Weasley’s voice from downstairs broke Harry’s concentration. “Harry, Ginny, the professors are here.” The two children left their rooms at the same time. Ginny grabbed Harry’s arm to stop him from descending the stairs. She stared meaningfully into his eyes. “You can do this, Harry. You know what you want to hear. Make sure he tells you.” Harry was startled as a feeling of warmth and calmness flowed through his body. He returned the girl’s caring gaze. “Thanks, Gin.” He squeezed her hand. “Let’s go.” They sped down the stairs and entered the kitchen to find the two professors and Mr and Mrs Weasley sitting opposite them at the table, each with a cup of tea and a tin of biscuits sitting in the middle of the table. Dumbledore was munching on a biscuit as the two children joined Ginny’s parents and sat next to each other. Harry looked up. “Hello, Professor McGonagall, Professor Dumbledore.” “Good day, Mr Potter,” greeted the Transfiguration professor. “It is nice to see you again, Harry,” Dumbledore said, with his eyes twinkling. “We have a lot of questions to address, so unless anyone has any objections, let’s get started.” The headmaster looked at each person seated across from him, his gaze remaining a few moments longer on Ginny. “Harry, since you are already aware of the reason for your early fame, I think it would be beneficial to discuss how it will manifest itself when you attend Hogwarts or visit Diagon Alley, for that matter.” “Sir, I have been told that due to what happened when Voldemort tried to kill me, I will be the subject of much pointing, staring, and gossip, that people may want to talk with me and possibly even want to touch me. Is that what you were going to say?” Harry’s calm and clear voice reflected the expression on his face. The two professors could not hide their surprise at the question and how it had been presented. Harry noticed that Mr and Mrs Weasley looked at him, both with a curious expression. Ginny moved her hand to his and lightly rubbed the back of his hand. A warm feeling moved up his arm. “That was an excellent summary, Harry,” Dumbledore said, as he studied the boy more closely. “There is one area that should be emphasized. As you know, the school is divided into four Houses.” Harry nodded his head. “I do not wish to prejudice you against any house or any of their members; however, you should be aware of the history of Slytherin House.” Harry nodded. The twins said most of the Voldemort’s Death Eaters came from that house and that I would have to watch the Slytherin students. “Lord Voldemort was called Tom Riddle when he attended Hogwarts about fifty years ago.” I didn’t know that. “He was in Slytherin House, and his first followers were several of his classmates. Nearly all the members of his group . . .” “The Death Eaters, sir?” Dumbledore cocked his head to the side but answered quickly. “That’s right, Harry. As I was saying, nearly all the members came from Slytherin. As a result of you vanquishing Tom, some of those Death Eaters were killed or sentenced to Azkaban. Others shrunk back into wizarding society. The children of these former followers of Tom’s may think of you in terms of causing large problems for their families and as a result, treat you in less than a friendly manner. While I hope nothing will happen — and will do everything in my means to prevent it — it would serve you well to be discrete in your dealings with members of that house and to keep a low profile.” Harry used the heel of his free hand to wipe off the moisture that had just formed on his forehead. He could see the worried look on Ginny’s face out of the corner of his eye, so he briefly tightened his grip on her hand. Both children looked at Mr Weasley when he asked the next question. “Albus, what do you expect the Slytherins to do, and what precautions are you taking to ensure Harry is not put in any danger?” “While we don’t know exactly what their actions may be, they typically fall into two categories — verbal and minor hexes.” Harry noticed that Mrs Weasley’s eyes had widened, but Dumbledore continued talking. “Harry, the best defence against verbal slurs is to ignore them. Their goal is to goad you into doing something that would get you in trouble, such as cursing them or starting a fight of some sort. Actions of a more physical nature would include sabotaging your classroom experiments in Potions or Herbology, bumping or tripping you, or landing a minor curse. Again, these are all done to provoke a response from you and to get you into trouble. By being aware of your surroundings and never going through the castle alone, you should not have problems with these approaches.” “Albus Dumbledore, are you telling us Harry is going to be the target of unprovoked attacks and your advice is to ignore them and to be aware they could happen?” Molly Weasley exploded. “What kind of advice is that? Surely, you can do a better job than to tell your students to be careful!” Before Dumbledore could respond, Harry quietly answered her. “Don’t worry, Mrs Weasley. I was a target of Dudley and his gang all through school. I’m used to being treated this way and ‘being aware of my surroundings’ as the professor said. I’m not quite sure how to stop someone cursing me, but I would imagine that skill is taught at some point.” The four adults stared at Harry after the matter-of-fact description of how his life had been and his casual acceptance that he would again be a target based solely on his being Harry Potter. Seconds later, all eyes turned in question to Albus Dumbledore. He stared at his tea cup for a few seconds, then looked at Mrs Weasley. “You are undoubtedly correct, Molly. I do need to be more proactive. Harry, we can do several things to make your entry into Hogwarts easier and less threatening. The first and easiest will be to teach you how to create a shield that will block most minor curses. Minerva, may I depend on you to teach Mr Potter the Protego spell?” “Certainly, Headmaster. Mr Potter, I’ll contact you to arrange your training.” “Thank you, Professor.” All eyes returned to the headmaster. “The second precaution we can take is to return something that belonged to your father that he left with me. I will give it to Professor McGonagall, so she can bring it with her for your first training lesson.” Harry’s eyes narrowed. He’s not even saying what it is or how it will help me. Can’t he say anything directly? Dumbledore smiled, his eyes again twinkling. “I do think those two precautions will eliminate the vast majority of any confrontations you may have, Harry. Now, if you’re up to it, I would like to discuss that dream you had, especially the ending and what it could be telling us.” Before Dumbledore could say another word, Professor McGonagall spoke up. “Perhaps we should take a short break to stretch our legs, get some tea, and relax a bit.” “Good suggestion, Minerva,” Mr Weasley said, as he started to rise from the table. His wife, daughter, and unofficial son quickly followed his lead. “We’ll be in the garden,” Ginny called out over her shoulder as she grabbed Harry’s hand and led him out the back door. As soon as the door shut and they were a ways from the back of the house, Ginny whispered, “I can see why you exploded. He doesn’t talk; he lectures. Does he really think other students will try to curse you?” Harry shrugged his shoulders. “I don’t know. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to worry about that kind of stuff anymore.” He glanced at the petite redhead. “Ginny, do you mind if I tell you something?” She looked at him enquiringly. “Of course not. What did you want to tell me?” Harry stared at his shoes, and his cheeks took on more colour. “I, uh, ithelpshavingyouhere.” Ginny laughed at the incomprehensible statement. “Could you say that again, a little slower this time?” Harry squeezed his eyes closed. “It helps having you here.” He looked at her, and his face became several shades darker. Ginny immediately tried to match his blush, while at the same time she found her shoes the most interesting sight available. “Thanks, Harry,” she mumbled a bit shyly. “I’m glad to help.” Ginny quickly changed the subject. Ten minutes later, someone called from the back door. “Kids, time to come inside.” Ginny and Harry both jumped, startled by her mum’s request. When they looked up, they saw a questioning expression on the woman’s face, which quickly turned to a warm smile. “We’re starting up again.” After everyone had returned to the table, Harry quickly summarized the dream, providing the most detail from the time Voldemort entered his bedroom. The Weasleys and the professors sat silently for several moments, lost in their thoughts of what Harry had seen in the dream and the painful fact that he had seen it numerous times over the past decade. Dumbledore finally spoke. “Is that everything you can remember from when Voldemort was in your room?” Harry felt a flare of anger but just nodded his head. Ginny resumed running her thumb over the back of Harry’s hand, when she sensed his irritation at the headmaster’s question. He looked over and gave her a brief smile. “Good,” the headmaster replied. “Thank you for retelling that difficult dream. Harry, I have no doubt your mother’s sacrifice provided the protection that caused the Killing Curse to rebound from you and hit Tom. What she did was a strong and selfless act of love, which can invoke a very powerful magic, one that Tom has no knowledge of. Unfortunately, we have no idea why the rebounded curse turned Tom to mist. We also don’t know if the curse actually killed him.” “How could that be, Albus?” Mrs Weasley whispered. Her complexion had become several shades paler during the retelling of the dream and the subsequent discussion. “Molly, Tom had delved deeply into the Dark Arts. We are not sure exactly what he had done in his quest for immortality. When the Killing Curse rebounded, it may have killed him, and he changed to mist as a result of one or more of the experiments he had done on himself. I have several theories, but each is more conjectural than its predecessor. Rest assured I will continue to seek an explanation.” The headmaster turned his eyes to the young boy in front of him. “Harry, I’m sure you have wondered why you are receiving special attention.” The boy looked surprised but quickly nodded his head. “Simply, I had wanted — perhaps naively — for you to have a normal childhood, outside the wizarding world with the constant attention that would have brought you. In hindsight, it is easy to see that I made assumptions about your relatives that proved to be false. For that, I am eternally remorseful for the treatment you received. I hope at some point you will forgive me.” Harry looked directly at the headmaster and nodded his head, not trusting his voice. He changed the subject! He moved from Voldemort to my relatives without explaining anything about that night. Looking like everyone’s image of a magical grandfather, Dumbledore asked, “Does that answer your questions, Harry?” Harry looked at the elderly wizard. Dumbledore’s upset. His voice has an edge to it. He isn’t answering my questions. I know he’s holding stuff back. This is really frustrating. I can talk with Ginny later and see if we can figure out what he’s doing. “Yes, it does, sir. Thank you.” He tried to speak in a calm voice but wasn’t sure he had succeeded. “Excellent.” The headmaster’s irritated expression quickly changed to that of a benevolent grandfather. “I have a request of you, my boy. I realize this has been a strain, but would you show me how you do your wandless magic?” Harry felt a wave of heat blast through him. Sweat dripped down his back, causing his shirt to stick to him, and moisture beaded on his forehead. My hands are all clammy. Now Ginny will know something’s wrong. I hate it when they want me to perform like I’m some kind of freak. He tried to wipe his hand on his jeans without calling attention to what he was doing, but Ginny subtly moved the handkerchief that was on her lap to his hand. Harry gratefully took it. While wiping off the moisture, he asked the headmaster, “What do you want me to do?” Dumbledore’s eyes fell on the biscuit tin that was sitting in front of him. “Could you move this to Mr Weasley?” Harry nodded, pointed at the tin, pictured it rising, and moved his hand to guide it so it landed gently in front of Mr Weasley. Mr and Mrs Weasley, Ginny, and Minerva McGonagall all smiled, while the headmaster looked at Harry as if he were studying an unusual new species. “Well done, Harry,” the headmaster said, his expression changing to a smile. “Do you know over what distance you can control an object?” Harry shook his head. Dumbledore looked around the kitchen, before focusing on a glass sitting on the counter about three metres from where Harry was sitting. “Would you move that glass over to me?” Harry again focused on the object and moved it so the glass now sat in front of the headmaster. “Very impressive. Would you explain what you are thinking and doing when you are moving an object?” Harry felt his eyes narrowing and the heat building up again, but he took a deep breath and put on what he thought of as his “Dursley mask.” I don’t think he likes that I can do this stuff. He’s upset, even though he’s not showing it. As long as I don’t show how angry I am, it should be okay. “I just look at what I want to move and picture what I want to happen.” Harry ended his explanation with a shrug. Dumbledore had an incredulous expression on his face. Professor McGonagall noticed this and turned to the small boy. “Harry, please excuse our surprise at your answer. What you are able to do is incredible.” She hesitated for a moment. “That you are able to do these things without any training makes them even more wonderful.” Her voice became softer. “This is a very rare and special ability, Harry. You should be very proud that you can do this. It is nothing to be ashamed of.” He smiled at the professor. She understands how I was feeling. “Thank you, Professor.” She smiled back at the boy. “I think we have seen enough examples of your wandless and wordless abilities.” Dumbledore looked sharply at McGonagall, but his expression quickly changed as he addressed Harry. “My boy, these are indeed wonderful abilities, so much so that I want to make two suggestions. The first ties in with the shield training Professor McGonagall will start soon with you. I think that training should be expanded to learn more spells and how to do them wandlessly, as well as with a wand. This training will extend into the school year. How does that sound?” Harry couldn’t hold back his smile. “That sounds great.” The headmaster smiled. “The second proposal is that the use of your special abilities should be restricted to these training sessions. You will be the subject of attention and gossip solely because you are the Boy Who Lived. If the knowledge of these abilities became known, your notoriety would become even more uncomfortable.” Dumbledore lowered his gaze to the tea cup in front of him and missed the annoyed expressions from everyone else at the table. Finishing his tea, Albus Dumbledore smiled and said, “I’m very glad we could meet today and answer all of your questions. I am very much looking forward to you attending Hogwarts. My door will always be open to you, my boy.” He turned to McGonagall. “I trust that you will set up the training sessions with Mr Potter. Please keep me informed of his progress.” With that, he rose from the table. “Thank you so much, Arthur and Molly, for what you are doing for Harry. I’m sure he appreciates being here. Miss Weasley, always a pleasure to see you.” As the headmaster walked to the fireplace, Minerva McGonagall quickly walked around the table and kneeled between Ginny and Harry. “I am very pleased with how you responded today, Harry. I know Ginny was a great help.” Her smile was reflected by those of the two children. “I will contact you soon to set up your training.” Three hands moved simultaneously and met in the space between the witch and the two children. Each hand strongly gripped the other two, sharing their warmth. “I’m very proud of both of you,” she said quietly. A moment later, the professor’s usual demeanour had returned, as she walked to the fireplace. With two flares of the green fire, the professors left for Hogwarts. A s soon as the two professors departed, Ginny looked directly into Harry’s eyes. “We need to talk. Let’s go outside, so we won’t be interrupted.” Grabbing his hand, she led the smiling boy out the back door, stopping only to inform her mother that they would be at the pond. They walked through the garden, with its profusion of roses perfuming the summer air, the vegetables ripening on their vines, and the herbs with their distinctive scents. Harry didn’t notice any of this, or that his hand was still being held by the young witch. Memories of the meeting and Dumbledore’s decisions looped through his mind in an endless repetition. The hell on earth that living with the Dursleys represented . . . not knowing who he was or his heritage . . . the lies about his parents . . . no friends, huge, hand-me-down clothes from his whale of a cousin . . . the mistreatment at the hands of his only remaining relatives . . . finding out Dumbledore had neglected him for a decade . . . partially telling him who and what he was . . . telling him what his life would now be like . . . always holding back information, never completely answering his questions . . . Stunning him when he got upset and lost control of his magic . . . not answering his questions again and acting like he was everyone’s favourite relative . . . restricting him from using wandless magic . . . They had reached the wide path that bordered the paddock area when Harry became aware that Ginny was looking at him with concern. “Your face is flushed.” She held up their still clasped hands. “Your hand is wet.” Harry’s shoulders slumped. “Sorry, Ginny.” The small girl stopped abruptly. Harry stopped a second later, since Ginny had tightened her grip on his hand. “Harry Potter, I did not say that so you would apologize.” Her sharp tone caused Harry’s eyes to widen, and he bit back his instinctive reply that he was sorry. When he looked at the girl, he saw several expressions fighting for dominance — anger, frustration, but also sorrow. “Harry,” she whispered, “it’s okay to be angry. Don’t hold it in.” Ginny looked around, then smiled and picked something up from the ground. “How far can you throw this?” She handed him a good-sized rock. Harry released her hand and took the rock. He swung his right arm in a windmill fashion several times to loosen it. Then, he reached back and launched the rock in a high arc. When the rock was at its peak, perhaps ten metres high and twenty metres from them, Harry pushed his right hand at it. The rock shot off on a second trajectory, rising to a height of at least twenty metres and becoming smaller and smaller, until the two children saw an explosion of dirt from much further down the path. Harry grinned at Ginny. “That was fun.” She handed him another rock, grinning back at him when he enthusiastically grabbed it from her hand. “I’m going to name this rock.” Ginny looked at him in confusion. “It looks like a Dumbledore type of rock to me.” Harry levitated the rock so it hung in the air about ten metres in front of them and about twenty-five metres up. Harry slashed his arm down, like he had with the Potions book. Instead of a soft whump the book made when it collided with the mattress, the rock hit the dirt path with an explosive thud, sending dirt flying in all directions and leaving an irregular hole in the path. Harry picked up the offending rock from the crater, and a wicked smile creased his face. Ginny watched in fascination. The boy slung the rock like he was skipping a stone across the smooth surface of a pond. As it hit the dirt road, he raised the rock and pushed so it continued its forward motion. After two more dirt-spraying skips, Harry let it fall to the earth under its own power. They were approaching the cut-off path to the pond, so Harry Summoned the rock back to him, letting it land safely a metre or two in front of them. A large rock, almost boulder size, sat on the edge of the wide path on the left side. Harry stared at it for several seconds then returned his gaze to the rock, which sat on the ground about three metres from the boulder. With no preamble at all, Harry levitated the smaller rock and whipped his arm in the direction of the flat surface of the boulder. The smaller rock exploded on impact, sending shards in a one-hundred and eighty degree radius. “Oh!” Ginny squeaked. “Was the rock still Professor Dumbledore?” Harry smiled maliciously. “Not any more.” Then, his demeanour changed abruptly. “Thanks, Gin.” He turned and looked at the girl. “You knew I was mad at Dumbledore. That helped a lot. Now we can talk and I can get it out without hurting anyone or your house.” She grinned at him. “That was the general idea, Potter. Now talk.” They turned onto the narrow path that led to the pond. He grinned back at her. “Yes, ma’am.” A serious expression spread over Harry’s face. He took a deep breath and the words came tumbling out. “There are a couple of things that bothered me. The main one is that I don’t think Dumbledore told us everything.” Ginny looked at him curiously. “What did he leave out?” “When I met with him at Hogwarts, Dumbledore told me he thought Voldemort could still be alive.” Ginny gasped. “This time he thought V . . . Vol . . . Voldemort was dead. Why would Professor Dumbledore change his mind?” Harry stared at the dirt path in front of them. “I don’t think he wanted me to ask questions about Voldemort and why he tried to kill me.” “Do you have any idea why the headmaster would do that?” The boy shook his head. “No, not really.” He turned and looked at the redheaded girl. “What did you think of him not wanting me to use wandless magic in school?” “I didn’t understand that, either. You’re already famous, so this ability is just one more reason. Students are going to watch you anyway,” she bumped his shoulder with hers, “because you’re the Boy Who Lived.” When Harry made a face, she turned red in embarrassment. “Oh, Harry. I’m sorry.” Ginny looked hesitantly at Harry. “I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but when Dad read your story to me when I was younger, I thought of it as an adventure — the brave baby defeating the evil Dark Lord. Now that I know you it just seems so horrible.” “It’s okay, Gin. I don’t remember it happening, except for the dreams. If I didn’t have them, I’d be clueless about what happened. I still don’t know why I’m famous for something I don’t remember. I was a baby. I really didn’t do anything. It was my mum’s magic according to Dumbledore.” “Well, you are famous, so get used to it, Potter.” She grinned at her friend. When they reached the top of the rise, both kids stopped and released contented sighs. “It feels like coming home, doesn’t it?” Ginny asked. Harry looked at her. “It feels like coming home to your house, not that other one.” Ginny smiled. “This is your house now, Harry.” He smiled back at her, and they walked down to the shore, quickly removed their socks and shoes, rolled up their jeans and waded into the water. Harry’s eyes swept the landscape, reacquainting himself with their haven. Ginny spoke hesitantly. “We were talking about wandless magic. Do you think . . .” “. . . I could teach you again?” Harry smiled back at her. “Sure.” He turned towards the shore and found several large leaves lying on the sand. Levitating one, Harry moved it so it floated on the water about two metres from them. Then, he did the same thing with a second leaf. “Remember last time, Ginny? Try to feel the magic inside you and tell it what to do.” He put his hand on his stomach. “I feel it here. Do you feel anything?” Ginny’s face showed how much she was straining to find her magical centre. “Nothing,” she said in frustration. “I don’t feel anything inside.” “Don’t worry about it. But this time, just relax. You don’t have to force it out. Try to picture it in your mind, instead of pushing with your muscles. Okay? Picture this warm, sparkling mass in your centre. Can you see it?” Ginny had closed her eyes. “It’s mostly golden yellow with red sparks around the edges.” “That’s great, Ginny. Imagine some of the golden yellow part flowing through your body to your right arm. We know it’s there, because you’ve done magic with a wand before. Just let it flow.” Ginny’s eyes had remained closed, but when Harry saw sweat beading on her forehead, he said, “Let’s try another way.” Disappointment was evident on Ginny’s face when she opened her eyes. “I could feel it inside me.” “That’s great, Ginny. Don’t be disappointed. You have it much harder than I did. I didn’t know anything. You’ve always been taught to use a wand and all the restrictions around it. You’re doing great just to feel it inside.” He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder. Ginny asked, “What other way did you want to show me?” Harry scrunched up his face. “Okay. This may sound weird, but I was thinking it might help if you held my hand when I cast a spell wandlessly.” He hesitantly looked at Ginny. “That’s a great idea.” She smiled. “Maybe I can feel what you’re doing.” Harry laughed in relief. “Good. I thought you’d think I was barmy or something.” “Well, you are, but it’s still a good idea.” Both kids started laughing, and their movements caused the water to ripple and soak the bottom part of their rolled up jeans. Finally they calmed down and Harry said, “I’m just going to levitate the leaf in front of me. Put your right hand on mine, and your left hand on my shoulder. Let me know if you feel anything. Keep your hands on when I raise my arm to levitate the leaf. Okay?” “Are you sure this isn’t a way to get me to touch you, Potter?” Ginny began to blush slightly. Harry quickly matched her blush and raised it one level. He raised his nose up. “The thought never crossed my mind, Miss Weasley.” They laughed again, before becoming serious. Ginny placed her hands where Harry had suggested, and he said, “I’m going to start now.” Harry pictured the magic moving through him and causing the leaf to rise above the water. Seconds later, he raised his arm and the leaf followed effortlessly. When it was about three metres above the water, Harry stopped and held it there. “Did you feel anything?” he whispered. Ginny whispered back, “I thought I felt . . . a kind of movement in your shoulder and hand, like something moved through it. It was almost like a vibration but moving. It’s hard to explain.” “That’s excellent. That’s how it feels. Okay. Now, I’m going to push the leaf hard. Maybe you’ll feel it more since I’ll be using more power. Hang on.” Harry had been pointing at the leaf, with his arm close to his body. “Ginny, I’m going to push my arm out quickly, so you might want take a couple of steps forward and hang on tight. I’ll move my arm on three.” “One.” “Two.” “Three,” both kids yelled. Ginny hung on, as Harry flung his arm straight out. The leaf rocketed across the pond, eventually landing about two-thirds of the way across. “I felt it,” Ginny yelled in excitement. “It felt like a surge, much stronger than before. I could feel it move through my hands. Thanks, Harry.” She squeezed his arm in both places where her hands still remained. “My turn.” She closed her eyes and pictured her magic flowing from her centre and out through her hand. Opening her eyes, she pointed at the leaf and raised her arm. Nothing. “Ahhh.” Ginny threw her hand down to her side. “Don’t worry about it, Gin. I have another idea.” He smiled. “This time I’ll hold your hand. We’ll levitate the leaf together. Maybe you’ll be able to feel it again through my hand.” Harry moved over to Ginny’s right side and held her hand. “Okay. Concentrate on the leaf being moved up by your hand. On three again.” When the count hit three, Harry focused on sending his magic through Ginny’s hand, while he focused on the image of the leaf rising in the air. He heard a sharp intake of air, as the leaf slowly began to rise from the water. Ginny’s eyes became increasingly wider the higher the leaf went in the air. Finally, they stopped when the leaf was four or five metres above them. Harry thought Ginny’s smile was the widest he’d ever seen. “Let’s push it out, on three.” The first two numbers were said quietly. Both shouted ‘three,’ and the leaf shot away from them, finally landing more than half way across the pond. Ginny started jumping up and down, soaking them, though neither noticed. She turned and threw her arms around Harry, whispering “Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Harry rested his hands on her shoulders, feeling the corners of his mouth stretching because his smile was so wide. When they let go of each other, both ducked their heads. Harry raised his when Ginny began to talk. “I know it was your magic, but I could feel it through my hand. Did you do that?” “I hope you don’t mind,” Harry mumbled. “I wanted you to feel it going through you.” Ginny smiled broadly. “That was a great idea. Thanks, Harry. Now I know how it works.” She looked at Harry as they walked to the shore and sat down. “This feels so good I’m not even going to try again. I’m so excited it’s like my arm is vibrating.” Harry beamed back at her. “We can go through the same stuff next time, but you can try it yourself then, if you want.” “Great! Maybe later in the week . . . or tomorrow,” she said with a grin. “We probably should return, unless you have more Dumbledore rocks to abuse.” He grinned at her. “Nah, I got it out of my system. Let’s go.” They instinctively grasped the other’s hand. They walked silently up the rise leading from the pond, when Harry wiggled his hand from Ginny’s grasp. With a quick tap on her shoulder and a shouted, “You’re it,” he sprinted away, starting a game of tag. “I’ll get you, Potter,” yelled the red-haired sprite to the rapidly disappearing back of Harry Potter. She took off at a sprint. When she reached the top of the rise, Ginny was sure she would see the backside of her friend. She was surprised when he was no where to be found. Having learned the tricks boys play from six older brothers, Ginny slowed down and began to look around carefully, thinking that Harry could be hiding in ambush. In another minute, she had almost reached the junction where the cut-off to the pond met the lane back to the house, and she still had seen no sign of Harry. As she walked along the much narrower dirt path through the uncultivated field that was filled with tall grasses and scrub trees, Ginny continued to swivel her head, looking for the Boy Who Was Hiding. Just past the largest of the gnarled trees, she stopped to look around more closely. Whump! The next thing Ginny knew something had knocked her to the ground, and she was pinned under a heavy weight in a tangle of arms, legs, and torsos. When she opened her eyes, she discovered the heavy weight was none other than Harry Potter. When both kids realized he was lying on top of his newest female friend, they instantly turned a spectacular scarlet. Harry quickly rolled off the small girl and mumbled an apology. “Sorry, Gin. I was only trying to tag you again, but you stopped so suddenly I kinda ran over you.” He turned to look at her. “Are you okay?” Too many potential responses flooded the young girl’s mind to say anything witty or sarcastic like she had intended. Ginny finally settled for, “Yeah, I’m okay, just startled. I couldn’t believe you’d gotten that far ahead of me.” “Well, as long as I didn’t hurt you.” “With six older brothers, it would take a lot more than that,” Ginny said with a grin. “Yeah, I guess it would.” The two children lay comfortably on their backs in the tall grass by the edge of the dirt path. The startling blue sky was occasionally interrupted by thin clouds scuttling by, blown by a wind that did not reach down to ground level. After several minutes of watching nothing but the changes in the sky, Harry said, “Time to get moving again?” “Yup. Help me up, Potter. After all, you put me down here.” He grinned and held out a hand, once he had gotten up. Ginny held it tightly, and he easily pulled her up. “Thank you, kind sir,” she said, with a smile, while keeping hold of the hand that had helped her get up. Soon they were walking past the grassy paddock area, with the orchard on the left and the huge privacy-insuring trees on the right and along the far edge of the property. “I really like Professor McGonagall.” Ginny’s soft words brought Harry’s attention back to the girl walking next to him. “She understands, doesn’t she?” Harry smiled. “Like when she said we should have a break when she knew I was upset. Dumbledore didn’t have a clue how mad he was making me.” Ginny grinned. “I could feel you getting hot. At least nothing vibrated or exploded.” “Thanks a lot, Weasley. How did you feel when she came up at the end of the meeting and said she was very proud of us?” “Really good. She makes you want to do the right things. Now I know why all my brothers like her so much.” “Oh,” Harry said, “that reminds me. Professor McGonagall told me earlier that she would have to be her usual self when we get to school and there are other students around.” He laughed. “She doesn’t want them to find out how nice she really is.” Ginny looked surprised. “She said that?” Harry started laughing. “No. That’s just what I thought. She wants all the students to think she’s mean and tough. We know better though.” Ginny smiled. “You’ll have fun training with her.” Harry stopped in mid-stride and looked at his friend. “Do you want me to ask if you can join in my training?” “You’d do that?” Ginny’s eyes had widened considerably. “Sure. It would give you a head start for when you go to Hogwarts,” his voice became much softer, “and it would be fun having you at the lessons.” Both kids blushed and focused on the ground in front of them. “Thanks, Harry,” Ginny said. When they looked up, Harry and Ginny were surprised they were already back in the garden area. Ginny’s stomach growled. “Do you think it’s close to dinner time?” Harry asked, trying not to smile at Ginny’s stomach talking to them. Ginny snorted. “It sure feels like it. Let’s go in and see.” As they entered the house through the back door chatting away, several things happened simultaneously. Ginny grabbed Harry by the shoulders and turned him, so his back was to the kitchen. Before she had literally spun him around, Harry noticed that Mr and Mrs Weasley were leaning over the table looking at — well, he wasn’t quite sure, because Ginny had moved him so quickly. At the same time, Harry heard Mrs Weasley whisper the words to a spell and thought the word bedroom was in it. Regardless, when Ginny let him go a few moments later, Harry noticed the table was empty, Mrs Weasley had grabbed a dish rag and was wiping down the table top, and Mr Weasley was reading the Dailey Prophet. Harry looked at Ginny, silently asking what was going on. She just shrugged and smiled. “Hi, kids, how was the pond?” Mrs Weasley asked, as if nothing had occurred prior to asking the question. While Ginny was answering her mum’s question in her non-stop breathless manner, Harry walked over to where Mr Weasley was sitting at the head of the table. Mr Weasley put the paper down and gestured for the boy to sit down. In his usual calm, quiet voice he said, “Harry, I would imagine you saw some things just now that you may be wondering about.” Harry goggled at the man. How did he know I was wondering what just happened? The man smiled. “When you become a parent, you develop a sixth sense. With seven children and now you being part of our family, you can imagine that sixth sense is pretty well developed . . .” Harry smiled. “Especially with the twins?” Mr Weasley laughed. “You took the words right out of my mind. Isn’t that the Muggle saying?” “Pretty close, Mr Weasley. It’s mouth instead of mind.” He chuckled. “I’ll have to remember that. Anyhow, I would imagine your first reaction would be ‘what are they hiding from me?’ and I wouldn’t blame you for thinking that.” Harry looked sheepishly at the man. That’s exactly what I was wondering. “Don’t worry about feeling that way, lad. Just know we wouldn’t hide anything from you, like certain people we know. You’ll find out quickly enough, and we think you will be very pleased.” He grinned at the boy. “Have I confused you?” Harry grinned at the man. “I think you’re asking me to trust you.” The boy quickly became embarrassed by the stinging feeling in his eyes. “I do.” Two hands reached out towards each other and met in the space midway between the boy and the man. The simple touch contained a world of emotions. Like finding the missing piece of a puzzle after a long search, Harry finally realized, He is the first male I’ve ever trusted. While Mr Weasley silently promised, Harry, you are part of our family. I’ll do everything I can to ensure you are treated right. “Kids, dinner is almost ready. Set the table for me, please.” Harry turned to see Mrs Weasley bustling over the stove, as Ginny walked towards the cabinet that held the dishes and silverware. Before getting up to help, Harry squeezed the hand that was holding his and smiled when he felt Mr Weasley squeezing his hand at the same time. “Thanks, Mr Weasley.” “Anytime, son.” Harry joined Ginny and pulled eight plates from the shelf and eight napkins from the drawer below. In the few minutes it took the kids to set the table, Mrs Weasley finished the dinner preparations and called the four boys down to eat. The now common sound of three clattering pairs of feet and one sedate pair quickly followed the summons. As soon as everyone had helped themselves to the baked chicken, rice pilaf, green beans, and salad, the twins turned as a single entity and asked Harry, “What did you talk about with the headmaster and Professor McGonagall?” “Boys!” Mrs Weasley hissed. “What kind of question is that? If we had wanted you to be part of the meeting, you would have been invited.” Harry hesitated, then said softly to Mrs Weasley, “I don’t mind telling them, if it’s okay with you.” Mrs Weasley looked at the boy in surprise, then smiled. “Of course, Harry, if you want to tell them, it is fine with me.” She finished her comment with a look of warning to the twins, but to Harry’s amazement, they seemed unperturbed by it. Harry gave the twins — and Ron and Percy, who also were listening in — a summary of what had transpired. Towards the end, he mentioned Dumbledore’s preference that he not reveal his wandless abilities. “That’s not fair,” George exclaimed. “Hardly anyone can do that,” Fred added. “Well, Professor McGonagall is going come here and help me work on the wandless magic. The training will carry over into school also.” He paused for a second, then ploughed on. “They think I should learn to do a shield spell in case someone tries to hex me.” Percy reacted first. “The Protego spell?” “Yeah, that’s it.” Harry nodded his head, while Percy’s eyes widened. Fred jumped in next. “Like we said before, we’ll try to help you whenever we can. If our classes are anywhere close to yours . . .” “. . . we’ll walk with you,” George finished. “If someone does get to you when we’re not there, just give us their names, and we’ll make sure it never happens again.” Harry expected Mrs Weasley to explode. When she was silent, Harry glanced over and had to bite down a smile. She was looking at the twins and nodding her head in approval. “I’ll be in all your classes,” Ron said, “so one of us will always be with you.” “Thanks, guys,” Harry said, and he turned and nodded his head to the Weasley parents. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to ask Professor McGonagall to include Ron and Ginny in my non-wandless training. I’m sure it will be too simple for Percy and the twins, or I’d include them, too. My thought was that Ron’s going to be with me all the time, so if anything happens, he’ll be there and needs to know what to do. Ginny will be with us next year, so why not get her trained when we have this chance? It would help to have them train with me.” Mr and Mrs Weasley immediately looked at each other. After several moments, Mr Weasley smiled. “Harry, it says a lot of good things about you that you want to include Ron and Ginny in your training. If Professor McGonagall says it is alright with her, it is fine with us. As much as we hate the idea, your fame will attract a certain amount of unwanted attention, it appears.” There was an explosion of noise from the younger Weasleys. “Thanks, Harry!” Ron’s smile filled his face. The twins both gave him two thumbs up. Percy looked at the newest addition to the family and nodded his head in approval. Best of all, Ginny leaned over and whispered in his ear, “Thanks, Harry. That means a lot to me.” She enclosed his hand in hers and gave it a warm squeeze. “Percy, I have a favour to ask. I’ve finished the twins’ second year books. Could I borrow your third year books for Charms, Defence, Transfiguration, and Potions?” Before Percy could reply, the twins exploded. “You finished all those books?” George asked. “It’s summer, Harry!” Fred shook his head. They looked incredulously at Harry. “He’s doing it because he wants to?” Percy was finally able to speak. “Of course, Harry. It’s gratifying to see that someone else takes their education seriously.” Mrs Weasley immediately began to chide the twins about their study habits when the fire flared, and moments later, Minerva McGonagall’s head appeared in the flames. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said, “but I need to speak to Mr Potter for just a moment.” Harry walked around the table and knelt in front of the hearth. “Hello, Professor.” The professor nodded her head. “I trust the rest of your day went well.” Harry smiled. “Yes, it did. Ginny and I went outside, and I used some wandless magic on some rocks. It helped a lot.” McGonagall’s lips briefly twitched and her eyes lit up. “I’m glad to hear that, Mr Potter.” Assuming her teacher’s face, she continued. “If it meets your schedule, I would like to come by tomorrow morning at nine o’clock sharp to work with you on your wandless magic and introduce you to some defensive spells.” Harry looked at Mr and Mrs Weasley. When both nodded their heads, he turned back to his professor. “That’s great! May I ask a favour?” She tilted her head. “And what would that be?” Harry swallowed hard. “Since Ron is going to be with me all the time, and Ginny, too, next year, I thought it would be good for them to be part of the defensive training. It’s okay with Mr and Mrs Weasley.” ‘Please,’ he mouthed. “As long as their parents have approved it, I think it will be beneficial to include Mr and Miss Weasley for the defensive training.” The professor’s voice lowered. “Was that your idea?” Harry nodded. “Good. I’ll see you at nine for the wandless training, then defence with the other two at 9:30.” Returning to her normal voice, she said, “Good night. I will see you tomorrow.” After losing to Ron in chess three more times, even with Ginny helping him during the last two matches, Harry and the others headed up to bed. Saying their goodnights at the first floor landing, Ron, Percy, and the twins continued up the stairs. Ginny smiled. “Are you feeling pretty good?” she asked casually. He smiled back. “Yeah. Thanks to you. I’d have been horrible if I kept my feelings about Dumbledore inside.” “You had to before.” He nodded his head. “You don’t have to here.” Harry grinned. “There are a few differences between them and your family. Good people.” Ginny flipped her hair. “Red hair.” “Food.” “Freckles.” “Few er chores.” “People who care for you,” she whispered and reached out her hand. “People I care about.” He took her hand and squeezed. “Goodnight, Ginny.” “Good night, Harry.” With one more squeeze of the other’s hand, the children went into their bedrooms. Harry noticed four books sitting on his bed. He smiled as he picked them up, pleased that Percy had so willingly let him borrow the third year books. After three times through each of the first and second year books, Harry was pretty sure he understood all of the information they contained. Sleep was slow in coming, as he thought about the immense changes in his life in just the past two weeks. Everything has changed. But for the first time, it seems okay. A lot of people want to help me, Ginny, McGonagall, Mr and Mrs Weasley, all of the Weasleys. I wonder what it would have been like to grow up here. He sighed. At least I’m here now. Sleep followed moments later. |
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