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SIYE Time:14:10 on 28th March 2024
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The Refiner's Fire
By Abraxan

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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff, General
Warnings: Death, Sexual Situations, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 618
Summary: In the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter learns to come to terms with the death of Sirius. As he heals and grows emotionally, he learns how to enjoy life again. But there's a war on, and Voldemort's primary objective is to kill Harry Potter, by any means necessary. As a result, Harry and his friends have a very adventurous sixth year at Hogwarts. Canon-based with some OC. HG, RHr, RT.
Hitcount: Story Total: 380708; Chapter Total: 15073







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DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author notes: For those who don’t speak “Brit,” when Harry says “You’re the stroppy one, aren’t you?” — “stroppy” means “feisty” but Brits don’t use that word, so I have “stroppy” here instead! Many thanks to Kelpie, my brilliant Brit-picker and to Blakevich, Starfox, Shawn and Pilar for beta-reading! And HUGE thanks to Asad Asif of my Yahoo group for untangling the mess of my .htm files, converting my .doc files to .htm for the those in the Yahoo group who need that type of file, and for spiffing up my Yahoo files in general! Thanks, Asad!

You can join the Yahoo! Group for this fic at:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPRefi nersFire



Chapter 27 - Aftermath — and Beginnings



Harry looked at Remus and Tonks. Remus was still holding Tonks’s hand, his face alight with joy that she was all right. Harry didn’t have the heart to ask Remus to help him identify the bodies. He looked at the Weasleys, who were talking about what had happened that day and the day before, three bright red heads close together bound in a circle of love.

Harry felt very remote from them all just then. He took out the parchment, ink bottle and quill Moody had handed him and went from body to body, writing down the names of those he knew. He had to turn a lot of them over. He did his best to recognize people, some of whom now had only parts of a face instead of a whole one. He took particular delight in kicking Wormtail numerous times, although he knew the man was, at long last, truly dead.

Only a few of the dead were Death Eaters he recognized or whose names were familiar to him. These must be new recruits, he thought sadly. For the ones he didn’t recognize, he went through their pockets looking for identification. The more bodies he dealt with, the more his heart ached. He recognized one man’s name and realized he had a son and a daughter in Hufflepuff. Among the dead were several who had finished Hogwarts in recent years, every one of them a Slytherin. Marcus Flint, Warrington, Terrence Higgs. He remembered them from Quidditch matches. Dirty players, every one, especially Flint. There were others who he recognized as past students, but he didn’t know their names. He sighed. He actually felt sorry for these boys, whose lives were cut off before they’d really begun. They’d made bad choices all through Hogwarts, and obviously, from being part of this fight, after Hogwarts as well.

Harry continued with the task Moody had given him. His heart ached when he discovered that some of these people were married. He learned a lot from family photos he found in some people’s pockets. Many of these couples lying here dead had children at Hogwarts, as well as children too young for Hogwarts. Each person here was somebody’s child, sister, brother, wife, husband, friend, but worst of all to Harry, many of them were parents. In the photos, they laughed, played with their children, hugged their spouses, waved at the camera. They were so alive, having no idea that their lives would soon be cut short.

Harry fought to quell the emotions raging in him. These were bad people, stupid people who hungered for power, people who were easily led by a monster. They deserved to die! Didn’t they? Then he wondered if any of them had been forced to serve Voldemort, as many had declared after his first reign of terror. He had no way of knowing if they were here voluntarily or if they were forced. The idea that these people had possibly been forced to work for Voldemort and had died in his service was tearing at his soul.

Finally overwhelmed, Harry sat down and folded his arms on his upraised knees, burying his face in his arms. His body shook with sobs, but he bit his lips, forcing himself to be quiet. Suddenly, he felt an arm come sympathetically around his back, then another, then a hand kindly touching his shoulder, another softly touching his hair, and one small wiggly body working her way under his arms to snuggle tightly against him. He looked up to see Arthur, Ron, Remus and Tonks surrounding him, and Ginny, of course, with her arm wrapped tightly around his waist, her other hand cupping his cheek, wiping away his tears with gently caressing fingers.

“What were you doing, Harry?” Remus asked, his sad eyes full of heartache for his godson.

“Moody. . .Moody told me. . .” he began. He couldn’t say it for some reason.

“He wanted a body count?” Remus suggested.

“No. Names,” Harry replied, indicating his list. “I don’t recognize all of them, so I’m . . . I have to . . .go through their pockets.” His voice shook and his hand trembled as he held out a photo he’d removed from someone’s pocket. “I know these kids. They’re in Hufflepuff. Hufflepuff!” He sobbed as he pointed at a body lying nearby. “That guy’s twin sons are in First Year in Slytherin. These people. . .they have families.” He shuddered at the horror he’d created. He didn’t think he could bear it. “Some of these kids — both parents are here. They’re. . .” his voice faded to a hoarse whisper, “orphans now.” He broke down completely then, sobbing on Ginny’s shoulder. His friends didn’t know how to comfort him. Arthur looked at Remus, unsure what to do.

“C’mon, Dad,” Ron said gruffly. “You and I can do this.”

Arthur looked at his youngest son with great pride as he took the list, ink bottle and quill from Harry’s limp hands.

“Where’d you stop, mate?” Ron asked Harry gently.

“Here. I was working left to right across the clearing,” he said, indicating his pattern with a gesture, “and I started over there. Thanks.”

Harry gave Ron a look that seared Ron’s soul. He’d never completely understood the depth of pain Harry felt from losing his parents. Now Harry had been a part of killing several sets of parents himself and it was breaking his heart.

“You get some rest, Harry,” Ron said huskily. “You didn’t have any sleep to speak of last night, and you’ve had a rough morning.”


“Yeah. Rough. And all before breakfast,” Harry said with a strange laugh.

“Breakfast! That’s why our day started so badly! We didn’t eat!” Ron said, poking Harry gently in the shoulder, trying to get him to smile at least a little. Harry glanced up at Ron and gave him the tiniest possible half-smile. It was enough. Ron knew his friend would be all right eventually. He just had to get past this horrible day first.

“Harry?” Remus said gently. “You do need some rest. Moody should’ve asked one of us to do this, not you.”

“You and Mr. Weasley were both busy, and Tonks, Ron and Ginny were all hurt,” Harry said quietly. “I didn’t mind. . . .” He broke off as fresh tears flowed down his cheeks.

“We need to get you, Tonks and Ginny down to the cave to rest while we finish cleaning up here,” Remus said. “Come on now, get up.”

“Ron and I can take care of things up here, Remus,” Arthur said. “You stay down there with them. They need a bit of looking after.”

“Thanks, Arthur,” Remus replied, picking up Tonks’s broom and medical kit and helping Tonks to her feet.

Harry got slowly to his feet and, with his arm around Ginny, followed Remus and Tonks down the hill. Ginny, small as she was, was nearly supporting Harry at first, then he took several deep breaths and straightened, walking more firmly. It was as if the air in the killing field was bad, and his health improved as he got farther away from it. Remus was supporting Tonks as they made their way carefully down the hillside. When they reached the bottom, Harry turned aside.

“Where are you going?” Remus asked.

“I should check on Beaky,” Harry said, stopping to look at his godfather. Harry’s face was still bereft, but his colour was better.

“Don’t be long, Harry,” Remus replied. “You do need to rest.”

“OK.”

“And Harry?”

“Yes?”

“If Beaky needs water or anything, come and tell me. I’ll get it for him. I’m serious. You need to rest.” Remus had on his best parental face. Harry felt warmed by his concern.

“OK.” He and Ginny turned aside to see Beaky for a while. Harry sat down and leaned his back against the hippogriff’s side, and Ginny sat beside him. Beaky made soft chirruping noises and rubbed his beak in Harry’s hair as if to comfort him. Harry patted his beak, then pulled Ginny into his lap and wrapped his arms around her tightly, burying his face in her shoulder. Beaky lifted his wing from behind them and opened it partway, creating an arched cover over Harry and Ginny as if they were his nestlings. They sat that way for a long time, Ginny gently rubbing Harry’s back, running her hands tenderly through his hair, massaging his neck, with Harry holding on to her as if for dear life, not crying anymore but still shaking hard with reaction to the morning’s events. Ginny and Buckbeak both crooned to Harry, comforting him as well as they could. Finally, Harry sighed and raised his head, looking at Ginny for the first time since they’d gone to see Buckbeak.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his broken heart in his eyes.

“For what?” she said in surprise.

“For getting you and your family into so much danger. For getting you nearly killed. Twice. No, more than that. I lost count. For Ron’s broken arm. For your dad being hurt.” The litany of misery poured out of him relentlessly. “For Tonks being hurt. For all those people up there. . . .”

“Harry Potter!” Ginny snapped. “Stop that! You are not to blame for any of those things. We’re at war. You are NOT the bad guy here. You saved my life several times today. You saved Ron’s life yesterday when you two were attacked, and at least twice today that I saw. I know you saved Tonks’s life today — those three bastards would’ve had her if you hadn’t got them. You probably saved Beaky’s life too, knowing you. Stop blaming yourself. Nobody thinks you’re bad, Harry. You’re about as good as it’s possible to be!”

Harry gave her a sad half-smile. “You are a stroppy one, aren’t you?”

“You’d better believe it!” she retorted. “If you want a fight, get mixed up with a redhead!” She laughed, a startling sound in the gloom of the pine grove. She laced the fingers of both hands in his hair, making it far messier than usual. She held on and rocked his head gently from side to side. “What do I have to do to knock some sense into that thick head of yours, Potter?” she teased.

“Got a Bludger handy?” he said with gloomy eyes but an attempt at his crooked smile, trying to tease her in return.

“I could probably conjure one if it would help,” she said confidently. “How many would you like?” she added with a cheeky grin.

Harry had to smile at her. She was absolutely irresistible. “However many you think I need,” he murmured, then leaned down to kiss her. When they parted, he held her closely again, hiding his face in her neck again. “Thanks for being here. Thanks for caring.”

“How could I not? I love you, Harry,” she said simply.

He pulled back to look at her, truly astonished. “With all this? After what I’ve done? You . . . love me?”

“Harry, you saw me attack people and do my best to kill them, over and over again. Do you think any less of me for that?” she reasoned.

“No. I’m proud of you.”

“And I’m proud of you for what you did. Believe me. I’m serious. And I’m serious when I say I love you. I do.”

He tilted his head and studied her face, looking deeply into her eyes. “I believe you are serious,” he said slowly, his face showing his amazement.

“Good. Then it’s settled.”

“What is?” he replied, genuinely curious now.

She started counting off on her fingers. “You’re a hero, I’m a heroine, Ron’s a hero, Tonks is a heroine, Remus is a hero, so are Dad and Mad-Eye. All the other people involved today were enemies. Bad people. People who made bad choices at the very least. That’s the way it is. And it’s settled. You won’t worry about it anymore, right?” She said all this with the utmost assurance and gave him a look daring him to defy her.

Harry rewarded her with a legitimate, if brief, laugh. “As you wish, m’lady,” he said, valiantly going back to their game.

She kissed his chin. “Got your dimple!”

“And you may keep it, or give it back. . .as you wish, m’lady.” He smiled sadly at her, hoping his heart would lift soon to match her sprightly spirit. In the warmth of her embrace, with the faithful hippogriff sheltering and protecting them, Harry Potter finally slept.


* * * * *


In the cave, Remus did a Cushioning Charm and settled Tonks in as comfortably as he could. He spent a lot of time fiddling around trying to conjure every comfort she could need.

“Remus, calm down. I’m fine,” Tonks said, both touched and amused by his efforts.

“You’re injured. I’m just trying to help,” he said, sounding a bit hurt.

“And I appreciate it. Come and sit with me,” she invited, patting the ground next to her and smiling at him warmly.

“I should go and look for the kids,” he said, moving toward the cave’s opening.

Tonks reached up and put her hand on his arm, stopping him. “Number one, they are no longer kids. Today made them adults. Number two, if they need help, they’ll yell. They know we’re here and that we can come to them if they need us. They just have to call out, and we’ll be right there. And Ginny’s a fighter — she’ll look after Harry. She’s done it before. Harry’s heartbroken, not badly injured physically, and can still fight if he needs to. And Buckbeak is very attached to Harry. He’ll look after him, as well. They’ll come back when they’re ready,” she said reasonably.

Remus sat down next to her, pondering what she’d said. “Today did make them adults, didn’t it? The battle last year in the Department of Mysteries was awful, but Sirius was the only one who died, and Bellatrix killed him, not Harry. Harry didn’t have to feel guilty about anything but being duped by Voldemort, and part of the reason he was so easily fooled was that he was a kid. Have you really looked at him today? He must have aged twenty years. Did you see his face?” he said, sadness in his every gesture. “He looked much older than James did when he died.” He paused. When he went on, his voice broke with emotion. “James would be so proud of him. Lily, too. Harry was magnificent, wasn’t he? But at what cost?” Remus bowed his head, his hands rubbing his face roughly, as if he could erase the memory that way. “At what cost?”

Tonks sat up and began caressing Remus’s back gently, trying to comfort him. “Harry’s strong. He’ll be fine,” she assured him.

“People think he must have a wonderful life because he’s the ‘famous Harry Potter,’” Remus mused, staring off into the distance. “If they only knew the hell he has to go through because of who he is.”

“Everything he goes through and survives makes him stronger,” Tonks reasoned, still rubbing his back comfortingly. “He’ll be as powerful a wizard as Dumbledore before he’s thirty at this rate.”

Remus smiled at her. Tonks was such a positive, cheerful person. It was heartening just being around her. “I’m so glad you’re all right,” he said, turning to face her.

“Me, too. When you went down — I was so worried about you. You had so many of them after you at once.”

“And you didn’t?” Remus teased, chuckling as he tilted his head to look her in the eye.

Tonks gazed at him steadily. Remus felt something odd in his chest, something he hadn’t felt in many years. She put her hand on his cheek, her thumb stroking his moustache. Her eyes were confident, bright, and. . .lustful? Could he be reading this right? Remus felt his breathing speed up, his heart start racing as Tonks leaned against him and kissed him. He returned the kiss, folding her gently in his arms, trying to be careful of her injuries. Apparently Tonks wasn’t bothered much by her injuries, because she pushed him to the ground and threw herself on top of him, chuckling in the back of her throat as she kissed him more passionately. Remus felt his heart lift in delight and matched her passion for passion. After a few moments, he rolled her over on her back and kissed her more thoroughly, his hands starting to explore a bit, as if they had a mind of their own, but then he gasped and pulled back.

“We should stop. Someone could come in,” he said cautiously.

“Then they’ll be jealous. So what? Come here, Remus. I’ve wanted to do this for ages,” Tonks said, grabbing his shirt front and pulling him down to kiss her again. When she pulled him down, the hand he’d been using to keep his weight off her slipped and he lost his balance, his full weight falling on her. She groaned in pain and he pulled back, horrified.

“I’m so sorry! I knew we shouldn’t do this. You’re injured. . .” he said, distraught.

“Yes, I’m injured,” she said when she stopped panting with pain. Then she gave him a cheeky smile. “But as soon as I get the right potions to mend myself, you’re mine, Professor!” she chortled, flashing her eyes at him and sliding her fingers between the buttons of his shirt to tickle the bare skin of his chest.

“Oh, I am, am I?” he teased, elated that this amazing woman was interested in him. He’d admired her for months now, but had not even considered approaching her romantically. Who, after all, would want to be with a werewolf? But she knew all about him and was interested in him in spite of his affliction, even aggressively interested! He smiled in delight, cherishing the special nature of this lovely, spirited, fascinating lady. He leaned down and kissed her softly. “I don’t think I’ll fight you very hard,” he murmured as he kissed her neck and nibbled her ear, making her gasp in pleasure.

“Good. I’d hate to have to hurt you, you know,” she chuckled, nibbling his ear in return, then kissing him deeply, passionately, and pulling his shirt tail out of the waistband of his trousers, then sliding her hands deliciously over the bare skin of his back. A small noise broke them apart, blushing. “What was that?” Tonks breathed, reaching for her wand.

“Could be the bats in this cave, or it could be the kids coming back,” Remus said, softly kissing her nose before getting to his feet. “I’ll go and check.” He walked to the entrance, tucking his shirt in quickly as he went. Wand at the ready, he looked around outside, trying to stay hidden as he did so. “I don’t see anything. They’ve been gone quite a while. I’m going to go and look for them, make sure they’re all right.”

“All right, but remember what I said — they’re adults now. They could be comforting each other the way we were,” she called with a flirtatious grin.

Remus laughed and thought a moment. “I will keep that in mind — and I wouldn’t blame them in the least. It’s important to remember how good it is to be alive,” he said, turning back and looking at her again. She was sitting up against the wall, her blue hair bright in the darkened cavern. “And thanks for reminding me of that fact. It is, truly, good to be alive,” he said tenderly, then smiled and waved at her before walking off.

Remus walked toward the grove of trees, thinking Harry and Ginny might still be with Buckbeak. The hippogriff lifted its head when it saw him coming. Remus bowed to Buckbeak and Beaky bowed in return, but raised the crest of feathers on top of his head and on his neck in warning when Remus tried to approach.

“Oh, you’re guarding them, eh?” Remus said quietly. “I won’t bother them, I just want to see if they’re all right.” He called Harry’s name softly, but got no response. Listening carefully, he could just make out the sounds of steady, slow breathing and an occasional soft snore. He chuckled at hearing that, then walked at a distance around the expanse of Buckbeak’s huge wing and saw Harry sound asleep, resting against the hippogriff’s side. Ginny was in his lap, her head nestled in his shoulder. Beaky had covered them with his wing so they were in what appeared to be a silvery white cave. Ginny glanced up when Remus moved behind the edge of Beaky’s wing. She put her finger to her lips and nodded ever so slightly toward Harry. She didn’t want him disturbed, it was clear. Remus looked at Harry’s weary face. He looked so exhausted, so pale, so old before his time, the circles under his eyes dark and enormous. Remus’s heart turned over, wishing there was a way to help his godson.

“Do you need anything?” he whispered.

Ginny shook her head slightly and murmured, “He just needs to rest. He’s exhausted.”

“I know. I’ll be in the cave with Tonks if you need me,” Remus replied quietly, backing away from the tender scene.

When he returned to the cave, he found Tonks fast asleep, lying on her side with her head cradled on her folded arm. He sat near her and she stirred, opening her eyes.

“Hi there,” she murmured. “I could do with a pillow.”

He started to move away to bring a cloak back to her, but she grabbed his robes, stopping him. “Lie down, Remus. Your shoulder will be fine.” Her eyes sparkled with mischief, sleepy though they were. He chuckled and did as she asked, lying down and raising his arm so she could snuggle in next to him.

“Are you comfy now?” he said, laughter in his voice.

“Mmm-hmmm,” she sighed, nestling her head into his shoulder. Remus wrapped his arms around her snugly and she was soon asleep again, her fingers once more between the buttons on his shirt, touching his bare chest. She seemed determined in that endeavour, which amused and pleased Remus enormously.

Remus revelled in the feelings that were opening up in his heart. He’d been alone for so long. Simone was the love of his youth. It had been many years since he’d allowed himself to even think about caring for someone. It seemed Tonks wasn’t going to give him much choice in the matter — and that was fine with him. He smiled, rested his cheek against her blue hair, sighing contentedly. Before long, the many sleepless hours of flying to this site and worrying about the boys, as well as the exhaustion of battle, caught up with him, and he, too, fell asleep.

Some time later, Ron and Arthur trudged down to the cave, weary and heartsick after the job they’d done. They’d not only written down the names of all the dead and collected personal items to give to their families, but had transfigured each body into a single bone and had buried the lot in a mass grave. They’d used the crater Harry had created when he blew up the three men who were after Remus as the grave, grateful they only had to cover the hole, not dig one as well as filling it. Even with magic, that was a lot of work in such stony ground. When they entered the cave, they saw Remus and Tonks in each other’s arms, peacefully asleep. Both Weasleys lifted their eyebrows and looked at each other. Arthur grabbed Tonks’s medical kit and drew Ron back outside. They sat by the entrance to the cave, waiting for Dumbledore to arrive.

“Did you know about them?” Arthur asked Ron, tilting his head back toward the cave indicating the couple inside as he dug out the proper potion to treat Ron’s injuries and his own spell burns. Tonks hadn’t had time to get the potion to repair broken bones, so Ron’s arm would have to wait for Dumbledore’s arrival before it could be healed.

“It’s news to me,” Ron replied, equally surprised. “But you know what? I’m happy for them. Remus always seems a bit sad, even when he’s laughing.”

“Yes, I’ve noticed that. He’s smiling now,” Arthur said with a chuckle. “Tonks will be a handful for him to deal with, if they actually build a relationship.”

“Yeah, but she’ll make him laugh. He needs that,” Ron replied with a grin. After a moment, he said, “Wonder where Harry and Ginny are?”

“I’m almost afraid to go looking for them,” Arthur said uneasily.

Ron was shocked. “Why?”

“I don’t want to . . . erm. . .walk in on them,” his dad replied uncomfortably.

“Walk in on. . .? Oh! You think they’re. . .erm. . . .” He blushed furiously at the thought, then a little voice in the back of his mind said, Lucky dogs. Ron immediately scolded himself for envying Harry and Ginny whatever they might be doing. They’d both been through hell today and deserved whatever comfort they could find. He’d just have to have a little talk with Hermione when they got back to school. He’d had a hard couple of days too, after all.

“It’s possible. When you’ve been through a lot of strong emotions, especially grief, you look for comfort where you can find it,” Arthur said wisely. “And Ginny’s where Harry will find comfort. I just don’t know that I’m ready for her to be making adult decisions at her age. She’s only fifteen.”

“Yeah, Mum will go ballistic,” Ron agreed. He looked at his dad’s uneasy face, trying to think of a way to comfort him. “I don’t think they’ve done. . .that. . .yet, so maybe. . . .”

“Have you watched the two of them together?” Arthur said sadly. “It won’t be long. I hope they’re wise enough to be careful.”

“Don’t worry about them, Dad,” Ron said. “They both know how to take care of themselves.”

“And do you?” Arthur asked, a slight twinkle in his eye.

Ron blushed beet red again. “Erm. . .yeah. . .but I don’t need to yet.”

“OK. As long as you know. I wasn’t certain that talk ‘took’ when we had it.”

“Harry had the ‘little wizards’ talk with both Sirius and Remus and he and I compared notes. I think we have everything clear now,” Ron said with a grin, although he was still blushing.

Arthur patted his son on the knee. “Good. Then I’ll just trust you and your sister to be sensible, shall I?”

“Yeah, that would be a good idea,” Ron said laughing. “Don’t worry, Dad. We’ll be careful.” Ron was astonished his dad was taking this whole idea so well. He had thought the idea of Ginny becoming involved sexually with anyone would have made his father explode. Give Dad some points for being a reasonable man, Ron thought with an inward smile. Mum, though. . .I don’t think she’d be quite so charitable.

“Good.” Arthur sighed. It was hard to be a good parent to your children when they were hundreds of miles away most of the time. He and Molly had done their best. They’d learned several sons ago to train their children the best they could before they left for Hogwarts, then just trust the kids to get through life as well as possible. It honestly wasn’t worth the effort to spend any more time than necessary worrying about them. With a war on and all his children involved in it now, worrying about them having sex was the least of his problems, as long as they were careful about it. Having babies in wartime wasn’t the best possible idea.


* * * * *


Harry woke up slowly, wondering why his legs were asleep and what the weight was in his arms — and what was he leaning against that was actually breathing? His scar didn’t hurt, and the hair on the back of his neck was comfortably in its usual messy place, not standing up in warning. He opened his eyes, looked around and smiled a bit. It was Buckbeak who was breathing behind him, and Ginny who was the lovely warm weight in his arms, and who had made his legs fall asleep by sitting on his lap for so long. From the sun’s position, it had to be mid-afternoon — they must have been there for hours. Beaky’s wing still sheltered them, a beautiful silvery white cave with iridescent edges where a sunbeam that had managed to peep through the trees glimmered through the feathers. Harry leaned his cheek against Ginny’s hair, relishing the warm feelings he had when she was near. His movement woke her. She looked up at him and smiled, glad to see he looked better.

“Good nap?” she asked cheerfully.

“Yeah. And I do enjoy waking up to see your pretty face so close by,” he replied, lifting her chin for a kiss. “Ouch, my legs are asleep!” he said with a laugh, lifting her off his lap and sitting her beside him so he could work the kinks out of his legs.

“I’m a bit stiff myself,” she replied, stretching her arms over her head and arching her back against Buckbeak. Her breasts pushed against her sweater as she moved. When Harry saw this, he looked away, blushing, but couldn’t help glancing back. She noticed he was peeking. She kept stretching in various directions, displaying herself as well as possible while under several layers of clothes. She smiled to herself, knowing she was teasing him mercilessly.

Harry swallowed hard, then started massaging his legs, moving them around some more to get the circulation back.

“May I help?” Ginny said mischievously, reaching for his thigh.

Harry blushed crimson. “Erm. . .that’s OK, I’ve got it.”

Ginny sat back against Beaky again, crossing her arms petulantly, her face in a playful little pout. “You never let me have any fun.”

“Sorry?” he replied, studying her face for a moment, then smiling cheekily. “Oh, is it fun you want? You should’ve said so,” he said, then grabbed her and pushed her gently to the ground, tickling her lightly, trying to be mindful of her injuries.

Ginny giggled and squirmed under him, then suddenly said “Ow!”

“Did I hurt you? I’m sorry!” Harry said, sitting back, his face full of consternation. “Where does it hurt?”

“I’m OK,” she said. “Just a bit of spell damage, nothing major. Come here, you.” She grabbed a handful of his sweater and pulled him down to her. Harry landed with his hands carefully supporting his weight on each side of her, afraid of hurting her again.

“I could, erm, kiss it and make it better,” Harry offered, blushing again but determined to play her game.

“Oh really? That would probably be a big help,” she said with a teasing grin, lifting her sweater and shirt from her waist, exposing the spell burn on her side. Harry leaned down and tenderly kissed the injury, then gently rubbed his thumb over it, making it disappear in a few moments.

“That feels good,” she murmured contentedly. “I can probably come up with other injuries that need your attention. . . .” She gazed at him with half-closed eyes, her smile suggestive.

“Mmm, that could be fun,” he said, propping himself on his elbow next to her, that hand in her glorious hair, and kissing her thoroughly. He was careful to keep his other hand on her waist, since he’d just healed her injury there and he knew he couldn’t hurt her by resting his hand in that particular place. Their kisses had deepened when Harry’s eyes opened wide in surprise. Ginny had moved his hand from her waist to her breast.

“Erm. . . .” His throat was so dry, he could hardly speak. “Uh . . .” He was afraid to move. He lay there looking at her, his hand barely touching her breast, her hand holding it in place and trying to press it down harder than Harry would allow.

“I’m not fragile, Harry,” she murmured. “And that feels good. It will feel better if you do more with it.”

Blushing furiously, Harry leaned away from her and tried to do the right thing. “Um. . .that could. . .erm. . .lead to. . .uh . . .other things if we aren’t careful.”

“It might at that. Or it could just be fun as it is. Whatever. Aren’t you ready for this yet?” she asked him, her eyes shadowed with disappointment.

“Um. . .yeah, no, well, um, actually, I’ve been, uh, ready for a while,” he stammered nervously. His cheeks felt like they were on fire. Other parts of him were having similar reactions.

“I’ve been ready for ages,” Ginny replied patiently. “Please, Harry.”

Harry looked from her face to his hand on her breast. He moved his hand around experimentally and was delighted with her reaction. His reaction was rather interesting as well. He leaned down to kiss her, his heart pounding. He’d done his best not to fall in love with her. Falling in love with Harry Potter was a dangerous thing to do. Casey had died from loving Harry. Yet here was insistent little Ginny, determined to love him no matter what happened, willing to forgive him for the most horrible things he’d ever done, and apparently determined to have her way with him in spite of everything. He’d become so dependent on Ginny’s support, her comfort, her concern and her good cheer, he hadn’t noticed when friendship, even fancying, had turned to love. But it had, and in the aftermath of the horrible day he’d had so far, the blossoming of this love in his heart was a delicious, dizzying wonder.

He trailed kisses down her neck, nibbled her ears, lapped at her earlobes, licked her collarbone, and went back to kissing her luscious mouth. His hand was having an excellent time on its own, exploring new territories he’d only dreamed about. He laughed inwardly — he’d dreamed about those “new territories” a lot since Parvati had appeared as the nude Ginny in his bed. The reality was far better than his dreams, although he hadn’t arrived at skin yet in his explorations. What a lovely thing to look forward to, though!

He leaned away from her and looked at her. Her face was languid, her eyes half-closed, a small gentle smile on her mouth. Her hair was spread like a wide silk scarf around her, creating an aurora of red-gold light. Harry’s heart turned over at the sight of her. He swallowed hard, calmed his breathing, and said, “Have I ever told you how much I love you?”

Ginny’s eyes flew wide open and she gasped in shock. “You’ve. . .you’ve never said you . . . love me . . .at all — just that you fancy me. I thought that maybe. . I hoped. . .but. . .” She looked uncertain, as if she was afraid to believe she’d heard what she thought she’d heard.

“I do love you, Ginny,” he said tenderly, bending down to kiss her again. Between kisses, he said, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”


* * * * *


When Arthur and Ron had been waiting outside the cave for a couple of hours, Dumbledore arrived on a thestral. He removed a large bag and several smaller ones from the thestral’s back when he dismounted. “Hello, Arthur, Ron. How are you two doing? Where are the others?”

“Hello, Albus. I’m glad you’re here. Ron and I are fine for now. Tonks is the worst injured, not counting Ron’s broken arm,” Arthur replied. “Tonks and Remus are asleep in the cave. Harry and Ginny aren’t in there, but since Remus is so relaxed, I assume they’re safe somewhere. He came down the hill with them, so he should know where they are.”

“We have injuries to attend to, and plans to make, and I imagine we have some young folk who need some counselling after what they’ve been through today. Am I correct?” Dumbledore said, raising his eyebrows at Arthur.

“Yes. I think the kids are holding up remarkably well, all things considered. Harry looked a bit peaky and was pretty upset, but Ron and Ginny seem to have come through it all in good shape,” Arthur said proudly. “Mind you, they didn’t kill anyone, and Harry killed a lot of people. That’s weighing on his mind terribly.”

“Let’s get everyone together, even if we have to wake them up. In the case of these injuries, the sooner we get them healed, the better. And I am quite concerned about how Harry is handling all this,” Dumbledore said, moving into the cave. “Ron, come here. Let’s take care of that arm.”

Ron took his potion and was able to remove his splint in just a minute’s time. “Wizard medicine is so much better than Muggle medicine,” he said in delight. “Harry told me Muggles with broken bones have to wear splints for six weeks or more! I can’t imagine having to live with this for much longer,” he said, laying aside the splint pieces and the sling made from Harry’s torn up shirt.

“What about that bad spell burn Harry said you had on your side?” Dumbledore asked.

“Harry healed most of it, and Dad gave me some potion that took away the rest of the pain. I think it’s fine now.”

“Let’s have a look.”

Ron obediently lifted the tatters of his sweater and shirt and waited while Dumbledore and his dad inspected his side. “It looks fine, Ron. And you say there’s no more pain?” Dumbledore said.

“I’m fine now.”

“Wonderful! Then, would you please go and find Harry and your sister for me?” Dumbledore said, picking up the medical supplies he’d brought with him. “I’ll attend to Tonks, Remus and your dad while you’re gone.”

“OK,” Ron agreed, ducking his head to clear the low entrance to the cave. He didn’t know where to start looking, but thought they might be somewhere near Buckbeak, so he headed for that grove of trees. “Harry? Ginny?” he called as he walked, not wanting to walk in on something embarrassing. “Harry? Ginny? Where are you?”

Harry froze when he heard Ron’s call, his arm around Ginny’s back, his hand trying to work out the intricacies of the clasp of her bra. “Bloody bad timing!” he grumbled, then chuckled and pulled her shirt and sweater back down.

“Could’ve been worse,” she giggled, stroking his cheek. “Harry?”

“Yes?” he said, sitting up and pulling her up to sit beside him.

“Grow your beard for me. It’s the holidays, after all,” she said, snuggling into his arms once she had her shirt properly tucked in.

“You are a demanding little witch, aren’t you?” he teased, then concentrated for a moment and his “pirate-style” beard that she so enjoyed appeared.

Ginny’s mouth dropped open in shock. “Oh, Harry!”

“What’s wrong?” he asked, scared by her reaction.

“Your beard! You have white stripes on each side of your chin now!”

“What?” Harry was appalled. “I’m too young to go grey!” He bent his head in front of her, running his fingers frantically through his hair, making a far worse mess of it than even Ginny had done during their snogging session. “Is my hair grey?”

“No, just those stripes in your beard. It looks quite distinguished, actually. You’re a very handsome and distinguished looking pirate indeed.” She smiled, hoping to smooth over the fright she’d just given him. He looks like he’s in his forties with his eyes so tired and that grey in his beard, she thought, but I certainly can’t tell him that!

“But grey in my beard? I’ll never grow a beard again,” he declared, truly upset about this development.

“No! It looks sexier than before, really!” she said, tracing her finger down the grey streaks. “Please keep it. You can probably learn to change the colour from Tonks, if it really bothers you. But now that I’m used to it, I like it.”

Harry sighed and shook his head. “The things I do to please you,” he murmured, kissing her soundly and rubbing his bristly chin over her face, tickling her. “By the way. In case I haven’t told you lately? I love you.”

Ginny wriggled with delight. “I love you too!” They shared a gentle kiss and just held each other, listening with amusement to Ron’s carefully noisy approach.

“Harry! Ginny!” Ron’s calls were getting closer.

Suddenly, Buckbeak stiffened, his face alert, his crest of feathers standing upright in threat. He made a screeching sound that left no doubt he wasn’t about to let anyone near him.

“Easy, Beaky, it’s me,” Ron said, bowing deeply.

Harry stood up so he could see over Beaky’s wing. “That’s right, show the proper respect to the hippogriff and you can get along with him,” he teased.

“You look loads better,” Ron commented, still keeping his distance from the hippogriff.

“I had a good nap,” Harry commented, then ducked behind Beaky’s wing again to hide his blush. He took Ginny by the hand and picked up her cloak, and the two of them patted Beaky before leaving the shelter he’d provided for them. “Thanks, Beaky,” Harry said. “You’re a wonderful hippogriff. And a good pillow.”

“Dumbledore’s here. He’s brought some medicine,” Ron said as his sister and his best friend came out from behind the hippogriff’s wing. “Harry! What happened to your beard?”

“Dunno. It came out that way,” he said with a shrug. “Ginny thinks it’s sexy.”

Ron laughed, glancing fondly at his sister. “She would. Are you feeling better, Ginny?”

“Yeah, I feel fine,” she said, wriggling under Harry’s arm and wrapping her arm around his waist. “Harry healed my biggest spell burn. The others aren’t bad.”

“Handy little talent you’ve got there, mate. You could open a hospital if you wanted,” Ron teased as he fell into step beside the couple.

“Nah, I think I’ll be an international Quidditch star instead,” Harry joked.

“Giving up on the Auror idea, huh?” Ron queried.

“Well, for today anyway. It wasn’t as much fun as it seemed like it would be to do Auror stuff. Moody said what we did today was Auror business, and that I’d be good at it. I don’t think I want to be good at this stuff,” Harry said, a visible shiver running down his spine.

“Ron! Ginny! Harry! Hurry up! Professor Dumbledore brought food from Hogwarts!” Arthur called in the distance.

“Food? Do you realize we haven’t eaten today at all?” Ron exclaimed, his face lighting up at the prospect of a good Hogwarts meal.

Harry smiled a bit at his friend’s enthusiasm. Harry didn’t know if he’d ever want to eat again. Then again, there was a huge hollow spot where his stomach should be. Maybe a little something. . . .

Dumbledore spread the food on a table he’d conjured just outside the cave, and drew up comfortable chairs around the table. “Come along, everyone! Let’s tuck in!” he encouraged. After everyone was seated and had started serving themselves, Dumbledore turned to Harry and Ginny. “Harry, Ginny, it’s good to see you both looking so well. Harry, that’s quite a nice beard. Why the stripes? Trying to look older?”

“They came with it this time,” Harry answered with a shrug. “Sort of freaked me out when Ginny told me about them.”

Dumbledore smiled benignly. “Ah well. You know, there are many tales of people who have gone grey overnight after a traumatic event. That could be what happened here.”

“You mean I may have all grey hair in the morning?” Harry cried, aghast.

“No, no, dear boy. I was just saying that traumatic events can lead to such things. I suspect your youth will protect you from further encroachments of grey hair for a while,” Dumbledore assured him, his eyes twinkling.

After everyone finished eating and all their wounds were tended to, Dumbledore got down to business. “All right. We need to discuss what happened here, and what happened yesterday when the boys were attacked. I found out that it was Kreacher who betrayed you.”

“How did you find out?” Remus asked.

“I simply asked Kreacher. He was proud of what he did. He went to Narcissa Malfoy with the information he overheard and the rest, as they say, is history. She and Bellatrix Lestrange are the last of the Black bloodline who he respects, so he felt it was right to speak to one of them. He couldn’t find Bellatrix easily, so he went to Narcissa. I do apologize for not making certain he was not a threat. I’m getting old, making more mistakes all the time.” He turned regretful eyes to Harry. “I’m so sorry this happened.”

“Don’t blame yourself, Professor,” Harry replied. “We should have done something about Kreacher after he betrayed Sirius. We can do something now. I inherited him along with Sirius’s house, right?”

“Yes, you did, but he would never acknowledge you as his master since you aren’t of the Black bloodline. But you don’t need to worry about Kreacher anymore.”

“Why not?”

Dumbledore sighed, his eyes quite serious. “He’s dead.”

“And good riddance!” Ron exploded.

“How did he die?” Harry asked, worried about the sadness in Dumbledore’s eyes.

“Dobby found out what happened and killed him.”

Everyone gasped.

“What?” Harry asked. “Dobby killed him?”

“Yes,” Dumbledore replied. “As you know, Dobby is extremely devoted to you, Harry, and when he heard what Kreacher did. . .well, the house elves have a law among themselves that says betrayal of their master can be punishable by death. So Dobby took it into his own hands and killed him.”

“What will happen to Dobby for killing him?” Harry asked, his voice quiet and nervous.

“The punishment for such an act according to our laws is either death or enslavement. I have talked to the Ministry and they have agreed to let Dobby be enslaved again rather than executing him. Dealing with this situation and others related to this attack are why I’m so late in getting here.”

Sounds of anguish flew around the group.

“Did Dobby know what the punishment was when he did it?” Ron asked.

“Oh yes. He came to me and confessed as soon as it was over,” Dumbledore said sadly. He looked at Harry seriously. “Dobby couldn’t bear knowing Kreacher had betrayed you that way. He was willing to give his life for you. He came to me expecting to be handed over for execution.”

“But he can go back to being enslaved instead, you said. So he’ll be working at Hogwarts for no pay then?” Harry asked, feeling sick to his stomach that Dobby had lost his freedom on his behalf.

“No, he can’t work at Hogwarts. The other house elves will not accept him there anymore.”

“Why not, if his killing Kreacher was in accordance with house elf laws?” Ron asked.

“Because it’s only in accordance with their laws if it’s done by another elf in the same household. Dobby wasn’t part of the Black household, so his killing Kreacher is frowned upon by other house elves,” Dumbledore explained.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Ron protested. “What about households that have only one elf, like Kreacher, or like Winky when she worked for Mr. Crouch? If they do something like Kreacher did, there’s no other house elf to punish them for it.”

“That’s all very reasonable, Mr. Weasley, but house elves have their own way of looking at things, which don’t always seem logical to wizards,” Dumbledore said with a shrug.

“Then what’s going to happen to Dobby?” Harry asked, horrified at the thought of Dobby being sent to work for someone who would be cruel to him.

“I’ve worked out what I think will be a satisfactory arrangement — if you’re agreeable, Harry,” Dumbledore replied, the twinkle back in his eye. “Dobby has to be enslaved and cannot be freed for any reason. Those are the terms of his punishment. But I’ve arranged for him to be your house elf, Harry, to work for you wherever you live. For the time being, he will work at Grimmauld Place. And he can come to Hogwarts whenever you need him. The Hogwarts house elves won’t bother him if he belongs to you.”

“But his freedom means so much to him,” Harry began miserably.

“You mean more to him,” Dumbledore cut in. “I know he’ll be happy working for you, and that you’ll be a kind master to him. This is the best solution I can come up for Dobby. Is this arrangement satisfactory, Harry? I need to let the Ministry know as soon as possible. Dobby’s being held in a dungeon until a decision is reached.”

“Oh, yes, of course I’ll take Dobby!” Harry said quickly. “But I don’t know what’s involved in owning a house elf. And I don’t really want to ‘own’ him. Can I give him wages and clothes and things, and just pretend he’s enslaved?”

“Yes, you can do that, Harry, and Dobby will thrive in such an environment. I hoped you’d say that.” Dumbledore smiled and added, “And if she’s willing, I’ll be happy to talk to Winky about joining Dobby on your staff so Dobby won’t be lonely. I think they’d both like that. They’ve become close. She’s been beside herself with worry about Dobby since all this happened.”

“That’s fine — whatever will make them happy. What do we have to do to get him out of the dungeon?”

“I’ll send an owl right now and let the Ministry know that you have agreed to take him on as your house elf. I’ll explain that you’re on holiday out of the country, and that Dobby will be at Hogwarts when he isn’t at your place of residence.”

“Will I have to take him to Privet Drive? Aunt Petunia will go mad if there’s a house elf around,” Harry said. Suddenly, he had a mental image of Aunt Petunia’s face if she did have to deal with Dobby in the house and he burst out into the first genuine laughter he’d done since the attack the previous day.

“What are you laughing at, mate?” Ron asked, bewildered.

“I just thought of what Aunt Petunia’s face would look like if Dobby lived there,” Harry said, still chuckling. “And Uncle Vernon! Ha! Oh, and Dudley — house elves can do magic too! Maybe I’ll take Dobby to Privet Drive with me after all.” He sat there grinning roguishly, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“You can do what you like with him, Harry, but he must not be seen by the neighbours around Privet Drive,” Dumbledore warned.

“Oh, I know. That’s part of what will drive Aunt Petunia wild!” He giggled a bit more, then finally calmed down. “Thanks. I needed a good laugh,” he said, grinning at Dumbledore.

“I’m glad you found something amusing in all of this,” Dumbledore said with a wink. “That shows you’ll be your old self in no time.”

“Whoa, Harry,” Ron said after a moment. “Hermione’s going to freak! You know how she feels about house elf rights! And you’ll own one! No, wait — two, with Winky!” His eyes were wide as he envisioned Hermione’s tirade when she heard the news.

“Miss Granger is right in wanting to improve the lot of house elves,” Dumbledore said quietly, “but in Dobby’s case, Harry is actually saving his life. She should not find fault with that.” Dumbledore wrote the note he needed to send to the Ministry and pulled an owl out of the pocket of his robes. He gave the letter to the owl and sent it off. “There. Everything is in place now. Dobby should be fine. Winky will be happier having a new house to serve and being with Dobby, and she will be free, Mr. Weasley, so Harry will only actually own one house elf. Thank you, Harry.”

“No problem,” Harry said with a shrug.

“Professor?” Ron asked Dumbledore. “How did Dobby kill Kreacher?”

Dumbledore sighed heavily, his face grave. “There are killing spells among house elves as well as wizards, but Dobby used his bare hands. He was that enraged. Kreacher was so old, he had no chance.”

“He didn’t deserve one!” Ginny snapped, her eyes flashing.

“I don’t disagree with you, Miss Weasley. However, killing someone with your hands is different than killing them with a wand. Harry knows what I’m talking about. Harry used spells, yes, but he used his hand rather than a wand, from what I’ve been told so far, for much of the battle.” He looked at Harry. “Did you kill anyone with your wand?”

Harry seemed to shrink in on himself, pain obvious on his face. “Yes.”

“And you also killed with wandless magic? I did hear about that — I simply wasn’t sure how much of the battle you did with a wand.”

“I did a lot more of the battle wandless than with the wand.”

Dumbledore patted Harry kindly on the shoulder. “I’m sorry to put you through this, Harry. We’ll deal with it in a few moments, all right?”

Harry just nodded, looking miserable.

Dumbledore went back to his subject. “Using your hands to kill affects your spirit differently than killing with a wand. I don’t know how to explain it any better. Harry and Dobby will both need their friends while they assimilate their experiences into their lives and learn to live with what’s happened. They both need to learn to forgive themselves, although in Dobby’s case, he doesn’t feel guilty about what he did at present. At some point, he may. I’m just saying this to make you all aware of the situation. Dobby may be as emotional at some point as Harry is right now. Just be aware of that and be kind to him if and when it happens, all right?”

Everyone nodded.

Harry shook himself and drew a deep breath. “Kreacher’s head isn’t on the wall, is it?”

“No, it isn’t,” Dumbledore replied.

“Could we get someone to remove all those things soon? I don’t want to see them. Dobby probably shouldn’t see them either.”

“I will have it done immediately, Harry. They will receive a proper house elf burial and be treated with the utmost respect. I’ll also have the walls cleaned where they were, so the spots where they were won’t be so obvious.”

“Thank you.” Harry heaved a sigh of relief.

“Now, on to other things. Tell me what happened yesterday, boys,” Dumbledore said, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table, giving Harry and Ron his full attention. When they were done with their story, he said, “And Buckbeak was able to fly you this much further. Excellent. How is he, by the way?”

Harry brightened up a bit. “Hagrid gave me a book on taking care of injuries of magical creatures, particularly those that fly. I brought that with me, and I was able to find the right herbs in the meadow over there to make the potions to heal him. Professor Sprout and Professor Snape will probably be shocked that I managed it,” he finished with a wry half-smile.

“Well done, Harry! I will be sure to tell them about this. Perhaps you can get extra credit on your marks for taking such good care of Buckbeak.”

“Thank you, Professor. But isn’t Beaky still a fugitive from the Ministry? If you tell, won’t we get in trouble for keeping him?”

“I’ll just say it was a hippogriff — I won’t name him. I will say that I asked you to bring him to Charlie to add to the breeding herd in Rumania, everything just as we’d planned, with the exception of the identification of the hippogriff. Everything will be fine.”

“OK,” Harry said, relaxing back in his chair.

“So tell me about today. Harry, you were the first on the scene, weren’t you?” Dumbledore asked, leaning toward Harry again.

“Yes.” Harry told the story, everything he’d witnessed or been part of. The others added their comments and viewpoints when Harry ran out of steam. When they were all finished, Dumbledore sat back in his squashy armchair stroking his beard thoughtfully.

“You know,” he said after quite a lengthy silence, “I am amazed at how well seven people, three of them students, did against such a large force. I cannot say how proud I am of you three in particular,” he said, nodding to Harry, Ron and Ginny. “I will be recommending the Ministry award medals to everyone involved. . .except you, Harry.”

Harry looked up, startled, as the old professor paused.

“By your efforts on both days, for training the Weasleys and other D.A. members to fight so well, and for rescuing Miss Weasley from certain death twice, you will be recommended for an Order of Merlin, Second Class.” He smiled benignly at Harry.

The others beamed and patted Harry on the back. He looked around at all of them, bewildered. “No. I don’t want it. I don’t deserve it. I killed a lot of people,” he began.

“You killed a lot of enemies of good people everywhere,” Dumbledore reminded him. “You didn’t do anything wrong. You set some things that were wrong, right.”

“And orphaned a lot of kids in the process,” Harry snapped, his eyes wild. He stood up so fast, he knocked his chair over. “I made orphans. I’ve been an orphan all my life. I would never willingly make someone else an orphan.”

“But you didn’t fight willingly, Harry. You fought because you had to,” Remus reminded him.

“It’s not fair, it’s not right! The whole thing is screwed up,” Harry said desperately, then stormed off to sit with Beaky again. The rest of the group watched him go, then looked at each other in silence.

“What can we do for him?” Arthur asked the group in general. He was met with shrugs and disconsolate faces all around, except for Ginny. Her face shone with resolve.

“I’ll go,” Ginny offered, and ran off to join Harry under Buckbeak’s wing.

“He’s taking this much harder than I’d hoped,” Dumbledore sighed.

“He was loads better when he came to dinner,” Ron said. “You should have seen him before he had his nap.”

“Well, I did just force him to relive the entire thing,” Dumbledore said regretfully. “However, it’s a necessity. I needed to have the full story from him as well as the rest of you.”

“What’s going to happen now?” Ron said after several quiet moments. “Do we go back home, or take Beaky to Rumania or what?”

“You’ll continue on your journey, and these Order members will go with you,” Dumbledore replied. He was quiet a few more moments. “Do you know if anyone has tried Cheering Charms on Harry?”

“I think Ginny may have,” Ron said, “but I’m not sure. He was a lot happier when I called them to dinner than he had been before.”

“Maybe she can work her magic on him again, then,” Dumbledore replied.


* * * * *


Harry lay with his arms across Buckbeak’s back, his face hidden in the crook of his elbow, his body racking with sobs, when Ginny found him. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry,” she said, wrapping her arms around his back.

“Go ‘way!” he cried, flailing one arm around as if to push her away — but he was careful not to hit her.

“Nope. Won’t do it. You can’t make me, either,” she said with supreme confidence. “I’m here for the long haul. You can’t get rid of me, Potter.”

He rubbed his face on his arm, trying to scrub away his tears, and turned to look at her. His face was as bereft as it had been when he’d broken down doing the body count. “I can’t do this, I just can’t do it.”

“Do what, sweetheart?” she said softly, sitting next to him and tenderly smoothing his hair off his forehead.

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” he said, shaking his head, rocking back and forth in misery. She pulled his head down onto her shoulder and comforted him as she had done before, crooning to him, letting him get it out, just being there for him. Finally, he relaxed against her. “I really can’t get rid of you, can I, no matter how badly I behave?” he murmured into her shoulder.

“Nope. I’m sticking to you through thick and thin. This, apparently is the thick part,” she chuckled, rocking him a little as if he were a baby in her arms.

“Thanks,” he muttered, then sat up and wiped his face on his sleeve.

“Don’t you have a clean hanky? You’re such a boy sometimes!” she scolded fondly, and handed him hers.

“Hanky? I don’t think I’ve ever owned one,” he said, a bemused expression on his face as he gazed at her. He wiped his tears and blew his nose resoundingly, then pocketed her handkerchief. “It’s too gross now to give it back to you. I’ll wash it for you,” he said, much calmer now.

“OK. Thanks,” she replied, tilting her head and smiling mischievously at him. “Have you noticed we’re alone again, in ‘our spot?’”

“We are, aren’t we?” he said, his eyes puffy and his nose red from crying. “And I must look a treat, right? You’re into blokes who’ve just been bawling their eyes out?”

“I do like a sensitive nature in my men,” she said wisely. “Come here. You need kissing pretty badly.”

“You don’t kiss badly at all, so what are you going to do?” he teased as he leaned toward her. His eyes were still heartbroken, but at least he was trying again to fight his way out of his depression.

They kissed gently for a while, then just held each other, comfortable in each other’s arms. Harry stroked her hair, enjoying the silkiness of it, the way the colour flashed even in the shadow of Beaky’s wing. Eventually, Harry’s hand seemed to take on a mind of its own and strayed to her breast. She gasped a little, then leaned into his hand. “Oh, that’s nice,” she said, lifting her face for his kiss.

“Yeah, I rather like it myself,” he murmured. This time, he managed the catch on her bra perfectly well and discovered how lovely girl skin feels to a teenaged boy’s hand.


* * * * *


Author’s note — In case you don’t believe someone can get grey hair overnight, I had a traumatic experience at the age of 19 and suddenly had four grey hairs in my head within a very short time (and it wasn’t nearly as traumatic as the day Harry had here). Annie Oakley, “Little Miss Sure Shot” of Buffalo Bill’s Wild West Show, was in a train wreck when she had a full head of black hair, and the next day her hair was grey, as was documented in newspaper reports of the time. I’ve heard of other such instances as well. And FYI, I’m 55 now and just now starting to get more than my token four grey hairs, so having those four didn’t lead to a full head of it for me, anyway (whew!)


* * * * *


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