If SIYE’s Donation Campaign is still going when you read this – and you haven’t done so already – please donate whatever amount is comfortable for you, as soon as you finish this chapter. And no, for you cynics, I don’t get a percentage of your donation for doing this! Thank you!
This chapter got so big – almost 34,000 words – cwarbeck, my beta extraordinaire, strongly “suggested” that I divide it in half. So, instead of this being the last of our time with the Weasleys, as promised in Chapter 18, there remains one more chapter (Ch 20) before we wave a fond farewell to The Burrow. To make up for my miscalculation, Chapter 20 will be posted about day after this chapter.
It is again time to remind everyone that this is an AU story. This chapter will underscore why I selected that category. For example, Percy will respond to Harry in ways we have not seen in canon. Hmm, I wonder what you guys are thinking now. Harry and Remus meet earlier than they do in canon, and the twins gift Harry with something unexpected.
Also, I’ve used several shield spells that aren’t found in canon. Unfortunately, I’ve seen them used so often in other fics that I have no idea who first created these spells. If anyone wants to take credit for inventing them, let me know. If I were to list all the stories I’ve seen these spells in, I’m quite sure the record for longest A/N would be broken. I did make up the names for the three shields – at least I think I did.
Oh, Harry and Ginny have a conversation (at the pond) in which they joke about a type of communication that has been prominently used in some other fan fic stories. Absolutely no disrespect is intended to the authors or their stories. In fact, several of these stories and their authors are among my favourites at SIYE. Once you get to that scene, you’ll know exactly what I’m talking about here.
Well, I’ve been going on for far too long. Enjoy the chapter and whisper a word of thanks to the wondrous cwarbeck for her beta work. I do that repeatedly, but then I have to – it’s in my contract with her. She made me sign it with a blood quill. But that’s a story for another time. Gotta go. I’m being yelled at.
Thanks to TGIF for suggestions regarding emotional/physical deprivation and the success of animal substitutes (ie, use Hedwig more). I highly recommend you read Christine’s first fan fic, Losing a Wizard in Two Weeks.
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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: 340841; Chapter Total: 14015 Awards: View Trophy Room Author's Notes: |
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Mrs Weasley’s insistent voice finally made its way to Harry’s brain, which in turn started the process of waking the slumbering boy, despite the fact that he had been in bed for just five hours. Late night flying and conversation with redheaded females can lead to that predicament. Harry rolled from his right side onto his back and debated opening his eyes. Deciding more sleep was needed, he rolled back onto his side, his eyes still closed. A few minutes later, the door opened. “Harry? Are you still asleep?” Mrs Weasley asked. “Yes,” the boy answered and began laughing to himself. Mrs Weasley started laughing along with him after a few seconds, and he rolled over. “Good morning, Mrs Weasley.” But his eyes remained shut. “Are you feeling alright, Harry?” she asked quietly. “You’re usually up earlier than this.” “I’m fine, Mrs Weasley,” came his automatic response. He finally coaxed himself out of bed, yawned, stretched, and asked Mrs Weasley, “Do you need some help with breakfast.” She smiled. “It’s already made and waiting to be eaten.” Harry grabbed his robe and ambled towards the door. “Sounds good to me.” While they walked down the stairs, Harry wondered why Mrs Weasley had woken him up. He noticed it was only a little after seven o’clock, and he had slept in later than that on several occasions. He glanced at the woman and thought she seemed both excited and a bit preoccupied. His curiosity finally got the better of him, and Harry asked, “Is something happening today that I forgot about?” Mrs Weasley started. “Oh, no, nothing like that. I just thought you’d want to get a jump on your day,” she said. When they reached the kitchen, Harry was surprised to find that Mr Weasley was the only other person up. The man turned as soon as he heard his wife and Harry enter the kitchen. “How are you this morning, lad?” “Fine, Mr Weasley.” He glanced at Mrs Weasley. “Just getting an early start on the day.” Before Mr Weasley could reply, Mrs Weasley said, “Here you go, Harry, scrambled eggs with ham and fried potatoes. Tuck in.” “Looks great, Mrs Weasley. Thanks.” Despite focussing on his food, Harry noticed that Mrs Weasley was constantly watching him, though she tried to be subtle in her observations. When he finished and put his plate and utensils in the sink, Mrs Weasley smiled. Mr Weasley got up from the table and went into the laundry that was adjacent to the kitchen, while Mrs Weasley said, “Harry, please sit down. We have something to go over with you.” A jolt of adrenaline raced through Harry’s system. Oh God, that’s why they got me up early. Something’s wrong. Maybe they can’t keep me any longer, and I’ll have to go back to the Dursleys. No, that can’t be right. Mr Weasley wouldn’t have said those things last night. Just calm down. Harry’s raging thoughts were interrupted when Mr and Mrs Weasley sat down on each side of him. Mr Weasley had a stack of folders in his hands. He cleared his throat. “Harry, you’ve made comments about not remembering what your parents look like, except through those recent dreams, and how your relatives never had any pictures or told you anything about them.” Mrs Weasley continued. “We wanted to see what we could do to help fill in those missing pieces.” “Son, the response to our requests was overwhelming. The first things we want to give you are these three photo albums.” Mr Weasley placed them in front of the silent, wide-eyed boy. Harry looked from Mr Weasley to Mrs Weasley and back again. “They’re pictures of my parents?” he whispered. “Your parents, you, and some of their friends,” Molly Weasley replied quietly. “We also received several letters, two certificates of theirs, and a friend of your parents, Mr Lupin, collected pensieve memories from people who knew them.” Mr Weasley paused, then looked like he had just remembered something. “We didn’t want to overwhelm you with all of these items at one time, and we thought the photos would be the best place to start. Just let us know when you would like to see the other materials.” Harry stared at the albums sitting in front of them. “You did this all for me?” “Yes, dear.” Mrs Weasley looked closely at the boy. “We know we’ll never replace your mother and father — we’d never want to do that — but you are part of our family now, and we hoped these pictures and other things will help to fill in the gaps a little bit.” She looked flustered. “If you’re not comfortable looking at the pictures in front of us, we will understand.” The boy’s head shot up. “No,” he said sharply, then his voice returned to its usual quiet level, “that’s not it at all. It’s just . . . that . . . no one’s ever done anything like this for me.” He took a deep breath. “And my parents are in these albums. I want you to be here. Can we get Ginny, too?” “Of course, dear, “Mrs Weasley quickly replied. “I’ll get her right now.” She moved up the stairs at a much faster pace than Harry was used to seeing from Mrs Weasley. Within moments, she returned with a sleepy Ginny Weasley, who sat down next to Harry. “Do you know about the pictures your parents got for me?” Harry asked, noticing that the girl’s energy level seemed to be increasing. “Yeah. That’s why I spun you around when we walked into the kitchen that day.” She smiled at the boy. Harry smiled back. “You were quick, so was your mum. She Banished the pictures to their bedroom.” “We’d been collecting the pictures and other stuff for weeks by that time, so we really didn’t want the surprise to be spoiled before it was completed.” She looked at the stack of albums. “You haven’t looked at them yet?” Harry shook his head slowly and looked at Mr and Mrs Weasley. “They just gave them to me. I wanted you to be here when I started looking at them.” “Oh, Harry,” the girl gasped and blinked rapidly. She took several deep breaths and smiled. Soon, their hands were intertwined. “Did you want to look at them now?” Harry blinked rapidly and pulled the first album off the stack and placed it in front of him. He looked at Ginny and Mr and Mrs Weasley again, then started to open the cover of the first album, his heart pounding in his ears. Seeing the pictures was the thing he wanted to do most in the world . . . and the least. It’ll never be the same again. I’ll see exactly what they looked like, not some fuzzy images in a dream. I’ll see myself with them, being held by them.The reality sent a cold shiver down his spine. They won’t be just names anymore or someone’s memories. They’ll be real and my parents and they’ll still be dead. A warm squeeze of his hand stopped Harry’s spiralling thoughts. He turned and smiled at Ginny and flipped open the cover of the first album. His breath came in painful gasps and his eyes blinked furiously to hold back the accumulating moisture. His parents were looking at him from the three pictures on the first page. His mum and dad stood together in front of the open door of a grey-coloured bungalow. Both were smiling, occasionally waving towards the person holding the camera. Then, his dad swept his mum off her feet and carried her through the doorway. The actions repeated endlessly. They were real. They had lived. There was no doubt they loved each other. Despite having very little experience with that emotion, Harry instantly knew from the way his parents looked at each other, their eyes shining, smiles forming without thought, light touches made instinctively. They were his parents. Other people’s words, no matter how sincere, melted into irrelevance after seeing just this one picture of them. He did have his father’s midnight black, unmanageable hair. They both wore glasses, though his father’s wire-rimmed pair were much more stylish than his cheap, off the pharmacy rack plastic-rimmed model. He had the same physical features as his father. Both were lanky. Harry couldn’t tell how tall his father was but guessed he was of average height, maybe a little taller. The boy’s thoughts turned angry when he considered the potential limiting effects on his growth created by the minimal amounts of food the Dursleys had fed him. The anger quickly dissipated as he gazed at his red-haired mum. He couldn’t remember seeing any woman who was more beautiful than she was. Her hair was thick, a darker red than the Weasleys’, and it fell well below her shoulders. She was shorter than his dad — the top of her head was level with the bottom of his nose. Even in a photograph, his mum’s power was obvious. A feeling of pride surged through Harry, knowing his mum had become a powerful witch despite being Muggle-born. Just as important, he could tell she was a nice person, open and caring, and at that moment, carefree. His breath hitched. Her eyes were his eyes. Harry felt as if he were looking into a mirror. Their eyes had the same shape, the same intensity, but most of all, they were the same virtually one of a kind green colour. Looking at her eyes led Harry to one inescapable truth. He was her son. Again, he felt a longing unlike anything he had felt before, but it was strangely coupled with an equally strong knowledge that he finally belonged somewhere and to someone. His parents. He was their son, and nothing would ever change that fact. He could feel Ginny’s hand gently rubbing his back, making soft circles and massaging his shoulders. He looked at the young girl and noticed moisture pooling in her eyes and reflecting the light in the kitchen. His hand found hers, and he squeezed. Her closeness and touch seemed to anchor him to the kitchen where they sat, to the here and now, while allowing his thoughts to go back to the time when the photographs were taken and life was so different. His gaze swept from the girl to her parents, who were anxiously watching him, not knowing if what they had done was the best or worst action possible. “Thank you,” he whispered to Ginny and her parents. Before they could answer, he turned to the next page in the album. His world exploded when he saw himself, as a baby, in the arms of his parents. That was the proof, beyond the physical similarities, something infinitely better than the dreams or someone’s recollections, even though Mr Weasley’s stories meant so much to him. It took only one glance at the picture to know that he was loved by his mum and his dad. The expressions on their faces, but mostly the light in their eyes, showed without a doubt he had been loved by these two people. He had been part of a family. Why were they killed? Dumbledore still hasn’t given me the real reason. I could have been part of a real family, had brothers and sisters, and parents who loved all of us. I wouldn’t have this scar and everything that comes with it. Voldemort caused this! Dumbledore made it possible! He cost me my family! Harry wrenched himself out of those thoughts and looked at the people sitting around him. Why am I here? They aren’t my family! Stop that! He took several deep breaths to calm down. The Weasleys are as close to a real family as I could hope for. I’m lucky to be with them. They’ve done nothing wrong. He looked again at the three people sitting close to him, and their expressions caused his heart to clinch. “Harry?” asked Ginny in a timid voice. They’re worried I hate what they’ve done. Oh God, do they think I hate them? The boy reached for all the good memories he had of these people. Mr Weasley’s stories, his patience and understanding, especially with the hand touching, how he had come to epitomize what a father should be. Mrs Weasley, fighting her mothering instincts until he was comfortable with his new surroundings and the family members. How she strove to overcome everything the Dursleys had — and hadn’t — done. Her wonderful meals and her willingness to share her knowledge of cooking and housekeeping charms. Ron, George, Fred, and Percy — so different from each other, yet so similar. They had accepted him immediately and unconditionally as a part of their family, despite how different he was from them. Their unquestioning support of family and him. How they could both prank each other and provide assistance without a moment’s hesitation defined what brothers should be. Ginny, maybe most of all, had shown him how to open up and trust someone, how to be a friend, and the wonderful feelings that created. He felt a connection with her that was so natural he hadn’t even thought about it before. It was there; it was part of them. She had made everything easier. I need to let them know what they mean to me. He looked intently at the three family members. “If my parents had been able to select who I would stay with, they would have picked you.” An explosion of emotions engulfed Harry. As one, the three redheads gasped, then moved instinctively to express their relief, their understanding, their support, and their reassurance that Harry was considered a member of their family. Harry felt as if their hugs had drawn him into the middle of their family, and he revelled in the warm feelings behind the physical expressions. Once their feelings had been expressed and any worries expelled, the joy of seeing his parents, himself, their friends, and a bit of what his early life might have been, came to dominate Harry’s feelings as he eagerly moved from page to page in the three albums. Mr and Mrs Weasley helped expand what the pictures showed by adding insights where they could, identifying people unfamiliar to Harry, and where and when the pictures were taken. The feeling of being part of something — first through his parents and now with the Weasleys — far outdistanced the depths his initial reactions to the pictures had taken him. Harry felt exhausted when they finished examining the last page of the third album. He looked at the three people closest to him, each gazing at him with obvious, and slightly nervous, anticipation. “I can’t thank you enough.” They started smiling. “I, ah,” he sighed in mild exasperation, created by wanting to find the perfect words. “These pictures . . . they make everything real for the first time.” He concentrated. “It’s like . . . it’s like they fill something . . . something inside me that I didn’t know was missing.” He shook his head. “Does that make any sense?” Six arms and three hearts reached out to Harry again, leaving no doubt his words made perfect sense. On the morning of Hogwarts minus four days, Harry got up at his usual seven o’clock hour, quickly showered and dressed, and headed down the stairs, careful as always to miss the squeaky third step so he would not wake Ginny, who always slept later. Harry tried to keep from looking surprised as he entered the kitchen. Mr and Mrs Weasley usually were up at that hour, and today was no different. Mr Weasley sat at the end of the table closer to the stairs, while Mrs Weasley prepared breakfast for the starving horde known as the Weasley family. This morning, however, the scrubbed and rather stiff Percy Weasley turned at the sound of Harry entering the kitchen. After Mr and Mrs Weasley had warmly greeted the young boy, Percy said, “Good morning, Harry. I trust you had a good night’s sleep.” Harry bit back a smile. “I did, thank you. It’s nice to see you this morning.” Percy immediately understood the question contained in Harry’s remark. “I have a meeting for lunch today, so I wanted to get an early start on the day.” Harry was a little surprised Percy didn’t say who he was meeting for lunch but decided it was none of his business. “Do you have a little time this morning to help me with one of the subjects I’ve been studying with Professor McGonagall?” Percy straightened even more than usual at the mention of the professor’s name. “What did you have in mind?” Harry looked closely at the fifth year boy and was pleased to note that his expression was open and slightly inquisitive. “We’ve been studying the Shield Charm, and I wondered if you knew any others. Professor McGonagall is teaching Ron, Ginny, and me, because she and the headmaster think I could be hexed while walking around Hogwarts.” Percy winced. “That is a proactive decision on their part. As much as we don’t like interhouse rivalries, they are a part of life at Hogwarts.” Percy’s expression and voice softened. “It is not logical, but there are wizards out there who still blame you for the downfall of their Dark Lord.” “Voldemort?” Harry asked. Percy’s head jerked back at the sound of the name and his eyes widened. “Y-y-yes. Harry, most wizards do not use his name.” Harry nodded. “Dum, err, Professor Dumbledore always uses his name, so that’s how I learned. I didn’t know it was a big deal.” He looked pointedly at Percy. “Sorry, I startled you.” Percy nodded. “He’s been called ‘You Know Who’ or ‘He Who Must Not Be Named’ for so long now those are the only names most people use.” Percy stopped in thought. “It is just a name.” He looked at Harry. “V - Vol — Voldemort.” Percy nodded his head sharply. “There, I said it and nothing happened.” “That’s why you’re in Gryffindor, Percy,” Mr Weasley said. Both boys jumped at the man’s words, having been so engrossed in their conversation they had forgotten Mr and Mrs Weasley were in the same room. Percy smiled briefly. “It will take some getting used to, but it is just a name.” “Did you know his real name is Tom Riddle?” Harry asked. Percy turned to him in surprise. “No. That’s the first time I have heard that.” “Professor Dumbledore told me. Tom Riddle went to Hogwarts about fifty years ago. He was in Slytherin and was a Head Boy.” Percy goggled at the last piece of information. “He was a Head Boy? That’s beyond shocking.” Percy looked lost for several seconds. “He just made up the other name.” Harry added. Harry watched as Percy analyzed the new information. Finally, the new prefect said, “Since most people didn’t even use the other name . . .” Percy huffed. “Because they used the other names instead of V-Voldemort, most people probably didn’t question whether it was his real name.” By this time, both boys had finished breakfast. Before either got up from the table, Percy said, “I’d be happy to teach you several other shields I’ve found while researching on my own. We have plenty of time, since I’m meeting . . . um . . . the other person at noon. Shall we go outside, so we can discuss and practice them?” “That would be great, Percy. Thank you.” Both boys put their breakfast dishes in the kitchen sink. “Thanks, Mrs Weasley,” Harry said as they walked towards the back door. “We’ll be in the garden,” Percy said. Harry noticed Mr and Mrs Weasley smiling at each other as he went through the back door and wondered what caused their reaction. Once they reached the garden, Percy’s expression became serious and Harry could imagine the boy standing in front of a class lecturing. “I’ve found three shields through my independent reading — two are purely defensive and one has offensive capabilities. The easier of the two defensive shields is Protego Circulo, which creates a shield that surrounds the person who cast it. It is very useful when you don’t know where the attack is coming from or if you are surrounded.” Harry thought, That might better than the regular Protego when we’re at Hogwarts. “The second shield is Protego Maximus, which covers a larger area than the standard spell. The size of the area covered is dependent on two factors. The first is the amount of power put into the spell. For example, more power is needed to shield four people than if there are just two of you.” Harry couldn’t resist. “Unless one of them is Hagrid.” Percy stared at Harry for a moment before laughing. “That’s true. Good one, Harry.” The third Weasley brother returned to his lecture mode. “The second factor is the magical strength of the wizard casting the spell. Harry, I’ve heard from my siblings and parents that you are very powerful, despite your lack of experience in the magical world. That would indicate that you would be able to cast a stronger shield and one over a larger area than I would be able to do.” Harry looked at Percy, a puzzled expression on his face. “The twins said you were probably the top student in your year.” A look of surprise flickered momentarily on Percy’s face, then a resigned expression took over. “That was nice of them to say that.” He paused a few seconds. “I’m not as powerful as any of my brothers or Ginny, but I do know more spells than any of them, well, except for Bill now that he’s a curse-breaker for Gringotts in Egypt. It all has to do with the wizard’s magical core. I’m afraid it’s just one of many ways I differ from the other members of my family.” “I know what you mean.” Percy looked sharply at Harry. “Can you imagine being a wizard with the Dursleys?” Percy immediately turned red. “Harry, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Of course, you would know what it is like to be different.” “It’s okay. I knew you didn’t mean it that way,” Harry quickly replied. “Can I tell you something your dad told me?” Percy leaned forward, nodding his head. “Your dad told me to be myself, to not hold back, or worry about what other people think.” Percy stood there quietly, thinking about what his father had said. When he finally spoke, it sounded more like he was talking to himself. “Take pride in my abilities, even if they’re different than the other family members. Don’t be embarrassed or irritated by them. We can still share lots of things . . .” He looked up, almost embarrassed when he realized he had been speaking out loud. “Thanks, Harry. I, uh, overheard Ron and the twins saying they’ll be there for you. I will, too, any way I can.” He stiffly held out his hand, and Harry shook it. Percy returned to has academic mode. “Let’s practice the spells. Well, all except Reverso.” Both boys laughed. Percy explained that the Protego Reverso was essentially a regular Protego shield, but with a wicked addition that caused the spell to rebound off the shield right at the wizard who had cast it. Harry thought it was a great spell but wondered if he would get in trouble if a student, even one who had tried to hex him, got hurt from the rebound. Percy quickly moved to the other two spells. “The incantation, Pro-TAY-go CIR-cu-lo, is accompanied by this wand movement,” and he demonstrated for Harry. “Let me go behind you. What hex does Professor McGonagall use?” “Usually a mild Stinging Hex.” “Okay, that’s what I’ll use. On three, bring up the shield and I’ll cast the hex.” On three, Harry strongly repeated the words, while moving the wand as Percy had instructed. “I take it you didn’t feel anything since you didn’t react,” Percy said. “Nothing at all.” “Let’s try one more time.” On the count of three, Harry repeated the words and wand movement, and again didn’t feel anything hitting him. When he confirmed that, Percy said, “I used more power this time. Good job, Harry.” With Percy’s detailed and patient instruction, Harry duplicated his initial success with the Protego Maximus shield. “Could we try each one another time?” Harry asked. Percy looked curious. “You did a fine job on both. Why do you want to repeat them?” “Ah,” he mumbled, “I wanted to try to do them wandlessly.” Harry felt his face grow hotter. “Oh, that’s fine,” Percy said. “Good idea.” Harry raised the Circulo shield, then the Maximus, wandlessly and wordlessly. He didn’t feel Percy’s hex penetrate the shield either time. “Thanks for doing them again, Percy. It’s really nice of you to teach me these new spells.” Harry noticed that Percy had an inquisitive expression on this face, and it appeared the boy’s brain was working overtime. “Could we talk a little bit about your magic?” Harry nodded. “Do you feel anything when you’re doing magic?” Harry’s eyes brightened. “Yes! When I cast anything, I feel it here.” He patted his stomach. “It feels warm and moves through my arm and hand whenever I do anything. The stronger the spell, the more I feel it.” “Really?” Harry nodded. Disappointment overwhelmed Percy’s face. “I don’t feel anything. It’s all up here,” and he tapped his head, just above his temple. Harry bit back a laugh. “Ah, maybe you’re thinking too much.” Percy laughed out loud. “Me? Overthink something? No way!” He nodded his head in a friendly manner, and they walked towards the house, still laughing about Percy’s comments. As they entered the kitchen, Harry said, “Thanks for teaching me. The spells will be very helpful.” “Anytime, Harry,” and Percy headed upstairs. Harry quickly noticed that four pairs of eyes were on him, as he stood in the kitchen. “Hi, guys. Hi, Ginny.” The twins smiled at him. Ginny remained silent, not bothering to look up. “You were practicing spells with Percy already this morning?” Ron looked shocked, but Harry couldn’t figure out whether it was due to the hour or the fact that Percy had taught him something. Harry nodded. “He showed me three great Shield Charms — one that circles the person, another that can cover several people at once, and a wicked one that reverses the curse and sends it back at the person who cast it. I’d be happy to show them to you after breakfast.” Ron, George, and Fred quickly accepted the offer. Ginny remained silent. “Ginny?” Harry asked, “Do you want to join us?” The redhead finally looked up, and Harry felt like the heat from her glare would give him a sunburn. “Why would I want to go with you gits?” The sarcastic tone of Ginny’s voice took Harry by surprise. “You don’t care if I’m there or not.” Harry’s eyes moved from one sibling to another. The twins acted as if Ginny’s behaviour was commonplace, but Ron’s cheeks had flushed a bright red. Ginny had dropped her head and was staring daggers at the table top. Harry’s stomach crashed, and he could feel heat flaming down his back and across his forehead. His voice sounded foreign to his ears. “The shields are really g . . . good. I’d be happy to show them to you.” Ginny’s head lifted slowly until she was staring into Harry’s eyes. “Leave me alone.” Her words paled in comparison to the coldness in her voice. Ginny shoved her chair backward, having to catch it before it pitched over. George and Fred had identical smiles as Ginny left the table. “Isn’t she a little ray of sunshine?” George said in a sing-song falsetto. “Do you still think our darling sister is all peaches and cream, Harry?” Fred asked. “George, Fred, ease up on your sister . . .” their mother cautioned. “I don’t need you to defend me with these two,” Ginny yelled and moved towards the stairs. Just before she reached the landing at the foot of the stairs, Harry saw that she had caught him staring. “What are you looking at?” She yelled, though her eyes widened for a split second. “You gits are all the same.” “Young lady, you don’t . . .” her mum let the thought slide. Ginny stomped up the stairs, grumbling loudly about her brothers, and then her door slamming echoed throughout the house. All of the boys, including Harry, looked to Mrs Weasley for an explanation. She shrugged and said, “I don’t have a clue what’s going on with her.” Molly returned to washing the dishes by hand for a second time. When she finished again, she went upstairs. Seconds later, two very loud female voices pierced the relative calm at The Burrow. The only comment Harry could understand came from Mrs Weasley. “Ginny, what’s wrong? There are only three days until your brothers and Harry leave for Hogwarts, and you’re acting like a little witch.” Minutes later the door slammed again and Molly Weasley stomped down the stairs. “Don’t say anything, boys, or you will regret it. Just leave Ginevra alone. I still don’t have a clue what’s bothering that girl.” Harry turned to Ron and mouthed ‘Ginevra?’ Ron nodded. “Everyone thinks Ginny is short for Virginia, but it’s actually based on Queen Guinevere.” “King Arthur’s wife?” a stunned Harry asked. “Right in one, except it’s the Italian version,” Ron answered. Harry turned to Mrs Weasley, “Is there anything I can do?” She smiled at the boy. “That’s very nice of you to offer, dear. Just be patient and give her the time and space she needs.” Mrs Weasley paused. “She may come to you when she’s ready. Thanks for your concern, Harry.” She squeezed his shoulder. Harry turned back to Ron, who shrugged his shoulders. “Wanta fly some?” “Sure.” Several hours later, Ron and Harry returned to The Burrow to find the twins already sitting at the kitchen table and eating the sandwiches their mum had made. Ron quickly looked from their plates to the platter in the centre of the table. He didn’t relax until he had counted the seven sandwiches that still remained. After washing their hands, Ron and Harry sat down, and Ron immediately grabbed three sandwiches off the platter. When Harry obviously bit back a snort, Ron laughed. “I’m a growing boy. What can I say?” “You can only eat one at a time,” Harry teased. “Do you think they’ll run away from you in fear?” George snickered. “Oh, dear, nave Harry, Ron is worried my brilliant twin and I will take several more sandwiches . . .” “. . . even though we’ve already eaten two each,” George continued, “and we don’t have our younger brother’s bottomless pit for a stomach.” At that moment, Ginny stalked silently into the kitchen, grabbed two sandwiches and an apple from the table, and returned to her room, her arrival upstairs punctuated by another slamming of her defenceless door. The twins raised their eyebrows and shrugged. “You might as well learn it now, boys. There’s no understanding the female of the species.” Fred nodded sagely at George’s proclamation. Harry turned to Ron. “I’m going upstairs and read.” Ron shook his head. “You know, Harry, that’s what school is for.” Fred continued, “This is summer, which means no school and no revising.” “It’s obvious, Harry, you’ve been spending way too much time with our older brother . . .” “George, I doubt if you want to finish that thought.” Mrs Weasley emerged from the laundry room, a predatory smile on her face. “It would be most beneficial to your grades, if some of Percy’s studiousness would rub off on you two.” Fred put both hands on his heart. “You wound us, Mother Dear, with your unfounded accusations and innuendo.” Their mum smiled in a manner eerily similar to Ron when he moved a chess piece and checkmated an opponent. “I would imagine anyone who can use unfounded accusations and innuendo in their everyday vocabulary should earn very high grades.” She smiled, pivoted, and walked back to the laundry room. George turned to Fred. “She’s good. You do have to give her that.” “Don’t tell her,” Fred stage whispered, “but she’s my role model.” “I heard that,” their mum called out. Laughing, Harry pushed away from the table and quietly went up the stairs, skipping over the third step from the top to make sure he wouldn’t get yelled at by the redhead in the room opposite his. He picked up the third year Transfiguration book, hoping to finish the three remaining chapters. Harry’s revising was periodically interrupted by loud noises — including vocal rantings and the sounds of innocent articles being slammed against hard surfaces. After several hours, the room across the hall became quiet. Hedwig stirred on her perch, and her head moved slowly from its position under her wing, where she had been sleeping since Harry began revising. Her movement caught Harry’s attention. “Hi, girl. Did you have a good nap?” Hedwig blinked her amber eyes several times, then lifted off the perch and landed gently on Harry’s outstretched arm. “Something’s really bothering Ginny. You’re a girl.” Hedwig looked at the boy in a way that made him feel he had just stated something obvious. “What would upset her so much, but no one has a clue what it is?” Hedwig continued staring at Harry with her unblinking eyes, while Harry scratched the top of her head between her ears. Now that he focused on the problem, possibilities began to run through Harry’s mind, until one burst into his consciousness like an exploding star. “I know what’s bothering her,” he said excitedly, and Hedwig lightly nipped his fingers. “I need to talk with her.” Harry carefully rose from the bed, so he wouldn’t jostle the owl. He placed Hedwig on her perch and grabbed an owl treat. The owl leaned forward and nuzzled Harry’s cheek. “Thanks, Hedwig,” and he gave the treat to her. Seconds later, Harry nervously stood in the landing between the two bedrooms, trying to work up the courage to knock on Ginny’s bedroom door. Finally, he tapped lightly on the door. “Go away!” Ginny’s voice echoed throughout the hallway. “Want to talk?” Harry asked quietly. “No!” Her reply came at the same volume as the previous one. “Would you like to go to the pond and not talk?” “Go away!” Ginny’s voice caught slightly on the last syllable. Suddenly, Harry knew what Ginny was going through. “I’m going to miss you, too,” he said quietly. Silence. The door burst open, and Ginny launched herself at the startled boy, wrapping her arms around him and holding on as if her life was threatening to crash around her. She sobbed into his chest for long minutes. Finally, the flood waned and turned into an occasional hiccough. The young girl looked at him with red-rimmed, moist eyes. “You understand,” she whispered. “Yeah. I feel the same way,” he said quietly, his arms still wrapped around the petite girl. “Does it feel like everything’s changed and will never be the same again?” she asked. “Like there’ll be a hole in my life . . .” “. . . and a hole in my stomach,” she said. He nodded. “And a headache that won’t go away.” “That’s it,” she said wistfully. “What can we do?” Ginny’s voice sounded the youngest he’d heard since he had been at The Burrow. Harry knew how to respond and fought to maintain a serious expression. “We need to run away.” His face remained unchanged. Ginny looked at him, first in surprise, then with an increasing understanding. She stepped back and lightly smacked him on the shoulder. “Prat!” He grinned. “Yup.” His heart warmed when she mirrored his smile. Grabbing his hand, Ginny said, “To the pond, Potter. I’ve got to get this out of my system. It’s driving me nuts.” “Short trip,” he said under his breath. Smack! “I heard that!” She faked a scowl, then her expression turned serious. “Thanks, Harry.” “That’s what friends are for, right?” He smiled and squeezed her hand. She smiled back. “Best friends.” They sped down the stairs, jumping loudly on the squeaky third step, and continued into the kitchen. “We’re going to the pond,” Ginny informed her mum. “Be back in a couple of hours, kids,” Mrs Weasley replied. As soon as Ginny turned her head, Mrs Weasley mouthed ‘Thanks’ to Harry. He smiled and nodded his head. “Oh, just a second,” Mrs Weasley called out, just before Harry and Ginny reached the back door. “Sun Charms.” They walked back and stood still as she cast the charm. “Now, you’re set.” “Thanks, Mrs Weasley.” “Thanks, Mum.” Harry ’s eyes moved from the vegetables to the herbs and finally the rose bushes, as Ginny and he walked through the garden. “You know, I’d never seen fruit or vegetables or herbs actually growing before,” he said softly. Ginny looked over in surprise, which quickly became understanding. “We’ve had a garden for as long as I can remember. Mum is amazing at growing things.” Harry looked down the rows of tomatoes, cucumbers, carrots, and many other plantings. “She sure has a green thumb.” “Huh?” Ginny looked at the boy like he was taking the mickey out of her. “A green thumb?” Harry laughed. “It’s a Muggle term. It means a person is good at growing things.” “Oh, that’s Mum alright.” Harry tugged on Ginny’s hand to change the direction they were walking. She looked at him in confusion. “I thought we were going to the pond.” “We are, but something caught my eye.” A few seconds later, they were standing in front of the rose bushes. Harry leaned forward, cupping a scarlet-coloured rose with his free hand, and inhaling its fragrance. Ginny shook her head but she repeated the boy’s action. “Aunt Petunia’s roses never smelled this good,” Harry said. Ginny looked around and said in a low voice, “Mum uses, ah, fertilizer from . . . chickens on almost everything she grows.” The redhead smiled. “Seems to work.” “Sure does, but I really don’t want to think about chicken, uh, fertilizer in the food we eat.” Ginny laughed loudly. “Silly, boy. We wash the fruit and vegetables,” she gave him a sly look, “most of the time.” Harry started staggering around. “I think I got an unwashed strawberry this morning,” and he bent over at the waist. “Prat!” Ginny started moving towards Harry, with an unmistakable glint in her eyes. Harry sprinted down the lane, then veered in the direction of the shed. He stopped suddenly in front of the locked double doors and turned to see Ginny skid to a stop less than an arm’s length from him. “Is it okay to see what’s inside without your dad here?” “Sure. It’s not like he’s hiding anything.” Harry cast a silent ‘Alohomora’ and the lock sprung open. Ginny grinned. “Handy skill you have there, Potter.” She threw the doors open wide to let the sunlight in, and the two kids entered the shed. Harry looked around curiously. “Has your dad always been interested in Muggle things?” Ginny’s eyes swept around the small room. “Always. He thinks it’s amazing that Muggles can invent things that do what we do with magic.” Harry picked up a broken smoke detector. “I bet Fred and George get some of their abilities from your dad, the way he tinkers around with this stuff.” Ginny gazed thoughtfully at Harry. “I never thought of that before.” She paused a few seconds. “It makes sense.” She started laughing. “But Dad isn’t as devious as the twins.” “Nah.” Harry smiled mischievously. “They get that from your mum.” Ginny stretched as tall as her petite frame allowed her. “You’re spot on, Mr Potter,” she said in a snooty tone. “We Weasley women are quite creative.” Both kids started laughing, and Ginny grabbed Harry’s hand. “To the pond, Potter,” and pulled him out of the shed. They ran down the path, until Harry dug his heels into the dirt when they came to the Quidditch pitch. “Tonight?” he asked, his eyes bright. “Do you want to?” she asked shyly. “You bet! I had a great time last night,” Harry replied, a huge smile on his face. Ginny lit up. “So did I. I’ll get you when I hear my parents go to bed.” “Great! To the pond?” “Finally,” Ginny answered in a melodramatic tone. Harry’s fingers instinctively laced through hers, as they returned to the dirt path. They had taken only a few steps when the rhythmic sound of beating wings caused Harry and Ginny to turn around and smile. Seconds later, Hedwig landed on Harry’s shoulder. He stroked the feathers on her back several times, then turned to Ginny. “Hedwig helped me figure out what was bothering you,” the boy said, wondering how Ginny would receive that bit of information. Ginny’s face took on a superior expression. “Well, of course she did. Hedwig is a beautiful, intelligent female.” Ginny looked at the snowy owl. “Thanks for helping Harry figure it out.” Both kids laughed, and Hedwig hooted several times. As they approached the rise the led to the pond, Hedwig took off from Harry’s shoulder and circled over the pond, before settling on a tree branch on the far side of the pond. As they approached the shoreline, Ginny suggested, “Let’s walk around the pond. We haven’t done that before.” “Sounds like fun,” Harry replied, and they set off on the meandering path that encircled the pond. The two children walked in silence, letting their senses fill with the sights, sounds, and smells from their special spot. Harry remembered the moist feeling in the air from the water in the pond, which was augmented by the more frequent showers that occurred as autumn approached. A few of the deciduous trees were showing the first signs of their leaves turning, as the change in the amount of sunlight started the process. Yet the greens and browns of the trees and shrubs continued to provide a complementary backdrop to the azure pool of water. Harry breathed deeply, trying to imprint the scene on his memory and senses. “I know what you were doing.” Ginny’s voice was as soft as the afternoon breeze that found its way through the trees and created ripples on the water’s surface. Harry looked at his friend, not sure what she meant. Ginny understood his confusion and continued. “You got me out of my bad mood, with your stops at the garden, smelling the roses, visiting the shed, wanting to fly again,” she squeezed his hand, “and not pushing me to talk once we got here.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “Can we sit here?” Harry nodded, and they found a flat spot next to the water. “After the great time we had flying last night, your leaving . . . oh . . . I mean all of you leaving . . . became real. There’re only a few more days, then you’ll be gone for months.” Her voice became lower and softer. “It really got to me.” She leaned into him, unable to hold back the emotions flooding her. Without thought, Harry put his arm around his friend and held her tightly. Ginny laid her head on his shoulder and let her tears fall. Harry found himself in two places, with Ginny at their pond, but also in a memory of when he was five years old, and Sammi had told him she was moving away in just a few days’ time. The pain of that memory let him know what Ginny was going through. He pulled her closer. When her tears started to subside after many minutes, he whispered what he hoped were encouraging words. “I’ll write every day.” “You’ll learn all about Hogwarts.” “You can write every day.” “It’ll be like Hedwig is half yours.” “Your brothers will write.” Ginny hiccoughed at that one. “We’ll be home in December.” Ginny’s breathing finally settled down, but Harry could feel that her energy level was still low. “It will be the first time Ron won’t be at home with me.” Harry had to lean his head closer in order to hear her. “I’ll be alone for the first time. He’s always been here, so it wasn’t so bad when my other brothers left.” Ginny turned so she was facing Harry and could look into his eyes. A shudder coursed through her body. “I’m going to miss you,” she whispered. “It’s just not fair.” Her voice took on a stronger tone. “We’ve just got to know each other, and you’re leaving.” Harry’s eyes widened. “Ginny, do you . . .” he exhaled strongly and closed his eyes for a moment. “Do you think I’m going to forget about you?” Her eyes grew wide and quickly filled with tears. She nodded her head rapidly several times, and the tears overflowed. Ginny leaned her head again on Harry’s shoulder and put her arms around him. He could feel the sobs wracking her body and held her more tightly, awkwardly patting her back occasionally. He whispered again. “How could I forget you, Ginny? You’re my best friend.” He knew the gnawing feeling of losing a friend. Just thinking of Sammi or Miss Rae still made his stomach hurt. “You’re probably thinking I’ll go to Hogwarts and meet new people and be busy with all the classes and not have time for you.” He could feel the tremors going through her body begin to slow down. Her breathing was no longer shallow gasps in between sobs. “I know!” Harry’s mind raced faster than he could form his words. “I bet Percy would let you use his first year books or you could get them from one of the twins.” Harry felt she was listening. “You can learn along with us. We can discuss the lessons every day in all the classes and figure out the homework. I’ll tell you what the professors said and explain what they showed us. It’ll be just like you’d be in class with us, and you’ll be so far ahead of everyone else next year. How does that sound?” Ginny raised her head off Harry’s shoulder. “You’d do that for me?” He grinned. “Every day and twice on Sunday.” She smiled, a faint smile, but one nonetheless. “You’re not just saying that to make me feel better?” Her voice had a bit more strength in it. “Of course, I said it to make you feel better . . . but it’s the truth. Ginny, don’t you understand? I’m going to miss you, too. You’re my best friend. I wish you were going with us.” He exhaled heavily. Some of the light returned to Ginny’s waterlogged eyes. “You’d tell me about your classes and the professors and the other students and help me learn the subjects?” Her voice showed her increasing excitement. “It’s the best way I can think of to keep together while we’re apart. Oh, and letters, of course.” Ginny smiled, a warm, full smile this time. “Just because you’re going to teach me the subjects you’re learning doesn’t mean you can skip out on your letters, Potter. I’ll tell Hedwig to sit on your head until you give her a letter to bring back.” Harry started laughing, deep, body shaking laughs that were soon joined by Ginny. Many minutes later they finally calmed down. Ginny’s eyes locked on Harry’s. “Thank you.” She crushed him with her hug. When she finally released him, Harry grinned at his friend. “You feeling better, Miss Weasley?” She looked at him shrewdly. “I sure am. But I think you just talked me into doing school work without getting any credit for it.” Harry started laughing again. “I did, didn’t I?” Ginny nodded her head emphatically. “I wish we could come up with some way we could talk long distance.” Ginny looked puzzled. “You mean like with a Muggle Fellytone?” “No.” Harry shook his head. “You don’t have a phone here, and I’m sure there are none at Hogwarts. No, I meant talking to each other, kind of direct.” He shrugged his shoulders. “You mean like talking to each other through our thoughts?” Ginny looked at him sceptically. “Sure. Whatever works.” Ginny’s voice rose in pitch. “Harry, that is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard!” She lightly swatted his shoulder. “Imagine having someone in your head all the time! I don’t think so, Mr Potter. That would drive me nuts! And don’t you dare say it would be a short drive again.” Harry started laughing and it increased when Ginny joined him. Finally, with their laughter and breathing back under control, Ginny suggested, “Shall we finish our walk around the pond, kind sir?” Harry affected the same upper crust accent Ginny had used. “If that is my Lady’s wish.” He stood up, bowed deeply, complete with flourishing arm movements, and held out his hand. Ginny took it with a bent wrist and allowed herself to be assisted, before dissolving into giggles. Harry waited patiently for Ginny to settle down, smiling at the girl’s laughter and the light that had returned in full force to her eyes. The two best friends resumed their stroll around the pond, occasionally skipping flat stones across the smooth surface, mostly just enjoying one of the last days of summer and the comfort they found in each other’s company. When they approached the halfway point of the pond, Ginny pulled on Harry’s arm to stop him. “Would you teach me wandless magic again?” Harry saw the burning desire in her eyes. “Sure. We can start where we ended last time.” He turned and Summoned several large leaves that had been lying on the ground, placing them in a line about a metre from the water. “I’ll levitate the first one, and you can hold my hand and shoulder again. Okay?” Ginny nodded and placed her hands as before. Harry went through the process more slowly than usual so there would be a better chance for Ginny to feel the magical energy moving through him. “One, two, three.” Harry focused on the leaf on the far right of the line and slowly raised his hand, while silently thinking the words to the Levitation Spell. The leaf gradually rose, until Harry stopped the motion once it reached a height of about three metres. He let it float and looked at Ginny. “I felt it.” A smile was already on her face. “I still feel a slight vibration in your hand.” Harry returned her smile and brought his hand back down. “Your turn. Before starting, see if you can feel the magic flowing through you. Remember how it felt with me.” Ginny nodded, already deep in concentration. “Try it on your own the first time,” Harry said in a calm voice, “whenever you’re ready.” Ginny closed her eyes briefly, pointed her right hand at a leaf, and clearly said, ”Wingardium Leviosa.” Nothing. “Ahhh!” Ginny whirled on the spot, her eyes blazing. She quickly picked up a medium-sized stone and threw it as far as she could across the pond. It landed with a deep-throated “kerplunk” about a third of the way to the other shore. “I didn’t feel anything. Why can’t I do this? I thought of everything you told me. I imagined my magic flowing, but nothing ever happens. Ahhrrgg! It’s so frustrating.” Ginny had been pacing back and forth during her tirade. Suddenly she stopped. “Why isn’t it working?” Harry’s face scrunched up in thought. When he finally spoke, the words were soft and non-judgmental. “Both Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore said very few adult wizards and witches can do wandless magic. Maybe it’s just not something you can learn.” Ginny had continued pacing back and forth, creating a depression in the sand. “Am I being a baby?” “No. You’re frustrated,” Harry quickly replied. “I learned that way, because I didn’t know any better. You learned the normal way, so it may not be possible for you.” Ginny’s head jerked up. “Do you want to try with me holding your hand?” Ginny smiled. “Thanks, Harry.” Harry stood next to her, and they repeated the process. With his right hand resting on hers, he mirrored Ginny’s casting of the spell, except for thinking the words. This time, though he tried to will his magic into Ginny’s hand. The leaf rose unsteadily and not very far. It quickly returned to the sand when Ginny turned to Harry, her eyes wild and alight. “Did I do that or was it you?” “I don’t know. I was trying to have my magic flow through your hand. Did you feel anything?” “Yes!” The answer burst from her lips. “Do you want to try on your own again?” Ginny was already facing the leaf with a gleam in her eyes. Within seconds of saying the incantation, the light was gone. She turned to Harry, the expression on her face a combination of huge disappointment and anger at not being able to do something she so desperately wanted. “Merlin, this is frustrating.” Ginny threw her hands up in exasperation, a fierce expression on her face, while she continued to look towards Harry. The leaf rose steadily in the air, but only Harry noticed. He bit back the words that wanted to rush out and retained a neutral expression. “Hold your hand where it is and look to your left.” Ginny looked confused by Harry’s odd instructions but quickly complied. Seconds later, she was jumping up and down, and the leaf looked like it was on a roller coaster ride. Ginny started laughing and dramatically brought her arm down. The leaf shot back to earth. The next thing Harry knew he was engulfed in a small tornado, as Ginny added hugs and dancing around to her jumping up and down. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Ginny squealed. “I can’t believe I did it.” She stopped in mid-twirl. “You taught me.” Ginny’s eyes were the most excited Harry had ever seen. “Merlin, Harry, you did it. You taught me. THANK YOU!” Harry was soon beaming into a mass of red hair as Ginny launched herself at him and wrapped her arms around his back. When she finally released the boy, Ginny’s smile was so bright it seemed to be reflecting the sun’s rays. She stepped back, the smile still splitting her face, pointed her hand at the leaf, and said ”Wingardium Leviosa.” Nothing happened. Ginny and Harry shared the same perplexed reaction. “What happened?” Ginny asked as if in a fog. Harry continued to stare at the leaf and occasionally would glance at Ginny. “You were happy this last time, right?” Ginny nodded. “Really happy.” “Did you think through the process?” Harry’s eyes had narrowed in concentration. “Uh huh, just like you told me,” Ginny confirmed. “But you were angry and frustrated when it worked,” he stated. Ginny’s eyes became round with understanding. “Ohhh, so I need to feel it, instead of think it. Is that right?” Harry looked at her hopefully. “I’m pretty sure.” He became quiet again, until he began to voice his thoughts. “You’ve learned to do spells with your wand. That’s how your magic is used to working. Mine is used to not having a wand. So, you have to . . . force . . . your magic to work without your wand, so it’s harder . . .” “And I need to use more power to do that,” Ginny added excitedly. Harry’s head snapped up, and he looked at the girl. “So when your emotions were strong, you had enough power to force your magic to work without a wand.” “Which is why it didn’t work when I tried to think my way through it.” Ginny punctuated her statement with a sharp nod of her head. “Anyway, that’s what I think happened,” Harry said. “Makes sense to me.” Ginny grinned at the boy. “So all you have to do is make me mad.” Harry’s eyes lit up and he started moving away from the redhead. “Should be easy. You’re almost there already.” As soon as the last syllable was out of his mouth, Harry sprinted down the shore path. “I am not a mad person, Harry Potter!” she yelled while running after the boy. “I am not a lunatic.” Harry slowed down and turned around, holding his hands out in a stopping motion. “Okay, Weasley, you’re not a mad, raving lunatic.” She halted in front of him. “But it would help if you were.” The two children grinned at each other and plopped down in the sand next to the water, comfortable in their proximity and easy silence. Again, Harry found himself trying to memorize everything about the pond, in case this was their last visit of the summer. “Thanks for sharing the pond with me, Ginny,” Harry said lazily. “I love it here.” Ginny glanced at him, a smile on her face. “I hoped you would like it. It’s my favourite place.” Harry nodded. “You can just get away from everything and relax.” “And learn magic.” Ginny started snickering when Harry snorted. Within seconds, both kids were laughing full out. Once they calmed down, both laid back on the sand, letting the sun and fragrant breeze wash over them. Some time later, Ginny’s question cut through the shared reverie. “Do you think we should get back to The Burrow?” Harry had to shake his head to get his brain back into gear. “I guess. At least you told your mum where we were going, so she won’t be worried or anything.” “Yeah, it only took one time forgetting to tell Mum where I went to learn it’s much better to tell her,” Ginny said. “Chores?” “A long list of the worst chores possible. I, uh, lost track of time and was gone for hours. I really didn’t think anything about it, but Mum went crackers. I heard about it — loudly — for the next week. It only takes one time to learn that lesson.” Ginny shook her head at the memory. “Let’s go then,” Harry said. “I don’t want to do horrible chores.” The two kids rousted themselves, shook off the lethargy the sun and the setting had created, and ambled down the path that bordered the remaining portion of their pond. Soon, hands met, fingers intertwined, and their return to The Burrow began, overseen by a white shadow that followed them home. Three pairs of adult eyes greeted Ginny and Harry when they walked into the kitchen. Two belonged to the warm and familiar faces of Mr and Mrs Weasley. The third stopped Harry in his tracks, which stopped Ginny, because their hands were still linked. Ginny looked at the man curiously, as if she were searching her memory for a name or something she could use to identify the gaunt, serious-looking visitor. Mr Weasley pushed back from the table where the three adults were sitting. “Harry, this is Remus Lupin, the friend of your parents who was obtaining pensieve memories of them. Remus, this is Harry Potter, and I’m sure you remember our daughter, Ginny.” The children stayed rooted to the floor, due to the surprising intensity the man conveyed while staring at Harry. Harry could feel the old emotions returning. Why didn’t he let us know he was coming over? There’s something . . . different about him. I’ll need to watch him closely. Why’s he staring like that? He and Ginny exchanged a quick glance, and Ginny whispered so only he could hear. “Don’t worry about him. He is a friend of my parents, so we can trust him. Don’t let his clothing and appearance bother you.” Harry nodded but stayed where they had first stopped. Mr Lupin stood, causing Harry and Ginny to take a step backward. The man winced at their reaction. “Please excuse my staring at you, Harry. It really is poor manners on my part.” Harry’s mouth fell open at the man’s soft, well-modulated voice. “You’ve probably already heard this, so please excuse me resorting to clichs, but you look remarkably like James, err, your father . . . except for your eyes,” his voice grew even softer, “they look like your mother’s.” For Harry, Remus Lupin’s oft-repaired, threadbare clothing faded away, as did the haunted look just behind his eyes and the somewhat long, brown hair that already showed signs of grey in it. Harry’s initial distrust of the man, already lessened by Ginny’s comment, moved further into the background. “You were f . . . friends of my p . . . parents?” Harry was startled by how shaky his voice sounded. Lupin smiled, and ten years seemed to disappear from his face. His eyes, which had been almost colourless, took on a grey-brown appearance when the light returned to them. “Oh yes. I was in your mother and father’s year at Hogwarts. We were all in Gryffindor together.” The man’s voice faded as he got caught up in his memories. When he resumed speaking, his voice was stronger, though a little coarse, and the cadence was faster. “Well, that is what brings me here today. I will be unavoidably detained over the next several days and wanted to make sure you received the memory phials before school started. I hope my unexpected appearance has not created any problems.” Molly quickly said, “Not at all, Remus John. You’re always welcome here.” Harry and Ginny moved over to the chairs next to her mum and opposite Mr Lupin. Mr Weasley sat in his usual spot at the end of the table. A rather large bowl sat in front of them on the table, and Harry thought it looked like an ornate birdbath. A series of intricate carvings ran around the outside edge of the bowl. He whispered to Ginny, “This must be the pensieve the memories are put in.” “That’s right, Harry,” Mr Lupin said. Both kids glanced at each other, wondering how he could hear Harry’s soft whisper. “There are two primary ways to watch the memories we have captured. In the first method, the person enters the pensieve,” he gestured to the large bowl, “by touching the liquid form the memory takes inside the bowl. You are then pulled into the memory where you can listen to and observe everything that occurred, though you cannot interact with the people there.” Lupin paused and looked at Ginny and Harry to make sure they understood. Harry nodded his head, as did Ginny. “We will be using the second method, since it would be awkward for all five of us to enter the pensieve together. In the second method, the scene is viewed on top of the pensieve, so we will both see and hear the people in the memory. The only caveat is not to touch the images. If you do so, the memory will stop. It won’t be lost, but it will disappear and would need to be restarted from the beginning.” He looked around to see if there were any questions. When none were forthcoming, Lupin looked at Harry. “Arthur and Molly told me you have already seen pictures of your parents and a few other people.” He sighed. “Nevertheless, these images might be difficult for you, Harry. I have tried to select several memories that are representative and, ah, positive. You will hear your parents speaking, which may be the most difficult aspect of this. Whenever you want me to stop the memory, just tell me. Alright?” Harry nodded, feeling a roller coaster careening through his stomach from anticipation and dread. I didn’t know I’d hear them talk. I wonder if it’s like what I hear in my dreams. “This first memory is from James and Lily’s wedding. It’s just a portion of the entire event, but, well, I think you’ll like it.” He looked at the boy. “I hope you do.” Lupin pulled a phial from box that looked like it held ten or twelve more of the glass containers. He poured the bright, whitish silver liquid into the bowl, where it took on the consistency of, Harry wasn’t sure, liquid light, a solid gas, he wasn’t sure. All thoughts about the liquid disappeared when Lupin stirred his wand above the contents and forms began to develop. Harry’s mind went blank. His parents were standing in front of him, no more than half a metre from where he was seated. Harry’s eyes immediately went to the man who looked like an older version of himself, just as he had seen in the pictures the Weasleys had collected for him. Harry winced as the bottom of his stomach seemed to drop, cold sweat beaded on his forehead and ran down his back. He vaguely felt Ginny’s hand squeezing his, trying to help him through this reaction. James wore expensive looking robes whose black colour seemed to have an endless depth. They were detailed in red and gold threads that caught the light and reflected it in subtle ways. The man’s messy, black hair mirrored Harry’s but in three dimensions instead of the pictures’ slightly less revealing two. Harry studied his father as if he were trying to determine if he would be like that man in a decade’s time, observing the man’s actions to see if they reminded the boy of himself, and taking joy in the obvious love his father showed for his mother. Harry smiled to himself, because he also felt a certain recklessness emanating from his father, a love of life that he hoped would be his at some point. But it was the image of his mum that caused his breath to catch painfully in his chest, filling him with a longing that even the pictures hadn’t brought forth. His mum wore beautiful floor-length, dark green wedding robes, with a narrow cape-like train of the same colour and length. Both pieces had the same red and gold detailing that his father’s robes had. The material looked like crushed velvet, and she wore a wreath of cream and gold baby roses in her hair. Harry already knew from the pictures, she had thick red hair and his emerald green eyes. But the pictures hadn’t done her justice. It wasn’t that she was pretty, which she was, but Harry felt something, something so strong he was mesmerized. It’s like a connection. I can feel her inside me. When the boy felt like his heart was going to burst, he yelled, “Stop!” and in a much softer voice, “Please.” Ginny grabbed his hand and ran her thumb over his knuckles. The three adults looked at him in alarm. “It’s okay.” He looked at the adults. “I’m okay. Mr Lupin, how well did you know my m . . . mum?” Lupin sat back in his chair, a look of confusion and something else, not fear, but reticence maybe, dominated his face. “What do you mean, Harry?” he asked quietly. Harry took a deep breath. “When I saw her, I felt something.” He shook his head. “Some kind of connection?” Lupin smiled and it was obvious he was back with his friends in his memories. “Harry, I’m not surprised you felt a connection when you saw Lily, ah, that is, your mother. She had that ability to instantly relate to almost everyone. She seemed to find the good within people, even when that good was very hard to find. She was a special person. I think that’s what you’re feeling, especially since some of her is in you. Your choice of words was excellent. There is undoubtedly a connection between the two of you.” Mr Weasley continued those thoughts. “Lad, Mrs Weasley and I were older than your parents. We, ah, didn’t travel in the same circles they did, especially James and his dear parents. We knew them through Professor Dumbledore. Once we met your parents, we were accepted as part of their extended family. That’s how we came to know you and how Ron and Ginny, for a very short time, would be invited over to your house to play.” Harry squeezed Ginny’s small hand. “Everyone felt comfortable with James and Lily Potter, but your mum especially.” Mrs Weasley squeezed Harry’s arm. “If you have her qualities, you are a lucky young man, Harry. They will serve you well.” Molly Weasley looked carefully at the newest member of her family. “Seeing her or your father hasn’t upset you?” Harry’s lips curved up in a closed-mouth smile. “No. It was just that feeling, that connection. It was so strong, and I’ve never felt that before, even with the pictures.” He looked around the table at each of the four people surrounding him. “Thanks for telling me about her.” He looked at Lupin. “Thank you for getting these memories for me. Could you start it again?” Remus Lupin smiled. “It would be my pleasure, Harry.” Repeating the movements of his wand, his parents’ former friend restarted the memory of James and Lily Evans Potter’s wedding. Harry watched in amazement as the love between his parents filled the kitchen, even though the figures were no taller than 30 centimetres. The wedding ceremony transitioned into a reception. In both segments, Harry saw several men repeatedly. He added the question of who they were to his growing list. When the memory had been returned to the phial, Lupin turned back to the four other people sitting at the table. “Questions?” Everyone looked at Harry. He couldn’t hold back a laugh. “I do have a few.” He could see each of them relax when he laughed, and soon they all had smiles on their faces. “Go ahead, lad,” Mr Weasley encouraged. “When were they married?” “They were married in June of 1979.” The question and answer session went on for almost an hour. Harry asked the last question. “There were several guys around my dad most of the time. I recognized you, but I don’t know the other two.” Harry felt the room immediately grow cold and deathly still. His gaze moved to each of the adults, and he saw that they were looking at the table top. Their lack of comfort was palpable, though Mr Lupin also looked extremely angry, which shocked the boy since the man had seemed so mild mannered. What had happened among those four men that would cause that type of reaction? Harry glanced at Ginny and saw that she looked as puzzled as he did. She shrugged her shoulders. Harry looked at his father’s former roommate. “Was that a bad question?” “No, Harry, it was not a bad question. Please excuse our reaction, but the answer to it is very complicated, and I’m not sure I am the person to explain it to you. If you will be satisfied with a very simple and woefully incomplete answer, I can provide that to you, along with the assurances that you will be given the full story by the right person at the right time.” Harry stared at the man’s thin face. After several seconds, he nodded his head. “What can you tell me?” Lupin breathed deeply and issued a wan smile. “Thank you for agreeing with my wishes, Harry. The two other men also were classmates. In fact, they were roommates of your father and mine at Hogwarts.” Remus Lupin took a deep breath. “At one time, we were very close, even had nicknames - your father was called Prongs, I was Moony. The taller, black-haired man was named Sirius Black or Padfoot. Peter Pettigrew, Wormtail, was the other man.” Standing unseen at the foot of the stairs, the twins’ eyes had widened to an impossible size. They turned to each other, nodded, and tip-toed up the stairs, skipping the squeaky third step from the top. Peter Pettigrew. Sirius Black — huh, like the star Ginny told me about. Wait! Mr Lupin said ‘was’ for both of them. Are they dead? No wonder he didn’t want to talk about them. Is that why he looks so old for his age? He must only be about thirty. “Thank you, Mr Lupin. Can we look at more memories sometime soon and talk some more?” “You’re welcome, Harry. Yes, of course, I would very much like to talk with you again and look at the other memories. In the meantime, let me show you how to view the memories, so you can do that on your own. Professor Dumbledore told me you can return the pensieve to him when you arrive at Hogwarts in a few days.” He looked at Mr and Mrs Weasley. “Could you shrink it, so it will fit in Harry’s trunk?” “We’d be happy to, Remus,” Mrs Weasley quickly agreed. “It’s an easy spell, Harry. We’ll show you how to both shrink an object and return it to its normal size.” Remus couldn’t hide his surprise at Mrs Weasley’s comment to Harry. Seeing Remus’ reaction, Mr Weasley explained the reasons behind it. “Harry has taken very quickly to magic.” He looked to Harry. “We can trust Remus, but if you’re not comfortable, I’ll stop here.” “If you trust him, I don’t have any worries,” Harry replied. “Harry seems to have a natural talent for wandless and wordless magic.” Lupin’s mouth fell open and Mr Weasley smiled briefly at the unvarnished reaction from the normally taciturn wizard. “He also seems to be remarkably powerful and can learn new spells immediately. Minerva has been working with him in both areas and will continue training once school starts. Remus, the headmaster does not want Harry to use this magic at school, and he feels it is best kept away from the public’s awareness.” Mr Weasley’s expression had turned serious with the last statement. Lupin nodded. “I understand the headmaster’s concerns. I won’t mention it to anyone. Harry, your apparent magical abilities shouldn’t be surprising to those of us who knew your parents. Among their many wonderful qualities, they were both very talented and powerful in their use of magic. I would be surprised if several of your professors don’t mention your mother’s talents in charms and potions, while your dad . . .” Remus smiled, “wasn’t as academically inclined, he was quite good at transfiguration and charms, plus several other areas.” Remus shook his head slightly to shake himself out of those memories. “Would you like me to show you how to use the pensieve and both methods of watching the memories?” Harry nodded his head eagerly and leaned toward the man. After the pensieve processes had been explained, Harry looked at Ginny and whispered, “Should we ask about you?” When Ginny nodded, Harry looked up to find Lupin already looking at him. He glanced at Mr and Mrs Weasley. “Um, I’ve sort of been teaching Ginny how to do wandless spells.” Harry’s eyes were glued to the table top, and he braced for the uproar from the Weasley and their friend. There was only silence. When he looked up, he was greeted by three incredulous expressions. Ginny started giggling. A second later, she was joined by her mum, then her father. Harry relaxed and joined them, while Lupin looked between the Weasleys and Harry for an explanation. Mr Weasley was the first to regain control. “See what we told you, Remus? Harry’s a natural.” His eyes moved over to Harry and Ginny. “Did you two want to explain about these lessons?” Ginny spoke up first. “I asked Harry to teach me. On the first time we tried, nothing happened until he pushed his magic through my hand . . .” Three “What’s!” interrupted Ginny’s explanation. Harry took over. “Ginny tried to levitate a leaf, but it wasn’t working. I thought it would help if she could feel how my magic worked, so I had her hold on to my shoulder and hand when I cast the spell.” “I could feel the magic move through his arm,” Ginny said. “It was like a vibration.” Harry watched the reactions from all three adults. All seemed interested and not upset at all, so he continued describing the first lesson. Ginny took over when they moved to their experience just before arriving at the kitchen. Ginny smiled. “I asked Harry again to teach me, and it went pretty much the same way as the first time. I got pretty frustrated, and, uh, was letting it out.” Her cheeks flushed with the admission. “Ginny was throwing her arms around, and I saw the leaf rising from the ground . . .” Again, he was met with three shocked expressions. “I wasn’t doing anything. It was all Ginny. I asked her to keep her arm up and to look to her left.” The two kids started laughing. “Gin started jumping around, waving her arms, and the leaf was zooming all over the place. Finally, she brought it back to the ground.” “But then, I tried it again and nothing happened.” The adults’ smiles turned to frowns. “Harry figured out what happened.” She turned to him with a smile. “That’s what we wanted to talk about with you.” He looked at the three adults. “When Ginny was angry, she did wandless magic. But when she was happy, it didn’t work. I thought maybe when she thinks through the process,” Harry tapped his head, “instead of feeling it,” he patted his stomach, “it doesn’t work. It needs to work on emotions, using the magic, instead of thinking about it.” His face scrunched. “Does that make any sense?” Mr Weasley spoke first. “Harry, it says a lot of good things that you would try to teach our daughter. That you could help her is, frankly, unbelievable. Very few mature witches and wizards can do wandless magic.” Mrs Weasley smiled at the two children. “I was wondering what you two were getting up to at the pond. Ginny is quite powerful already, especially for her age. As we like to say, size is not indicative of power.” Ginny smiled at her mum. Remus Lupin cleared his throat, and the other four people at the table turned their attention to him. “Over the years, I’ve done quite a bit of research into magic and spells. First of all, Harry, you seem to be a natural teacher. I doubt there are many professors who would have thought to show a student how their magic works or to ‘push’ it through the student as you described it. That approach seems to have jump-started Ginny’s latent wandless abilities.” When Remus paused, Harry added another thought that they had forgotten to mention earlier. “We thought that since Ginny learned to do magic with a wand that’s what her magic was used to. When she tried to do wandless magic, she had to use more power, because she had to . . . overcome? . . . her magic being used to a wand. When she was mad, she automatically used more power.” Harry shrugged. Ginny quickly added, “Harry didn’t even know wands existed until recently. Even though his magic was accidental, it was wandless. When he got here, it was natural for him to continue doing magic without a wand. Harry figured it was easy for him, because that’s what his magic was used to.” Molly continued, “I almost lost control of some dishes I was levitating when he mimicked what I had done without anyone telling him how to do the spell. I contacted Minerva after that.” Harry returned to their question. “Mr Lupin, do you think our idea of Ginny needing to use more power to change her magic makes any sense?” Remus Lupin had been listening intently. “Harry, I can’t say with any certainty, but there appears to be a kernel of truth to your idea. Let me give you an example. There is a saying that the wand chooses the wizard,” he smiled at Ginny, “or witch. I know this to be true. That indicates that the ability to use magic is affected by what is channelling it.” He looked at the two children. “Please stop me if I start to confuse you. Harry, have you gotten your wand yet?” “Yes. I went to Diagon Alley with Professor McGonagall a week or so ago and bought one at Ollivander’s.” Harry shuddered slightly at the thought of the mysterious old wizard. “Did you find some wands were like sticks in your hand, no feeling at all?” Harry nodded. “But when your wand was placed in your hand, you could feel it almost vibrate?” Harry nodded energetically at the memory. “It exploded with red and gold sparks.” Lupin smiled. “I think the different reactions we see with wands may be similar to what you and Ginny are explaining regarding her wandless magic.” Remus’ voice became stronger. “This is a topic I would like to explore in more depth. I would like to involve both of you,” he looked at Mr and Mrs Weasley who nodded their approval. “If my theory is correct, we may be able to teach wandless magic to some witches and wizards — far more than we do now — and maybe most of them. I’m sure Professor Dumbledore would be interested in that type of research and creating a class should the theory be proven. Harry, your expression turned sour at the end. Did I say something that bothered you?” Harry started at the man, catching what he thought was a brief reaction. “No, there are no problems, Mr Lupin.” Harry didn’t think the wizard would be interested in hearing his opinion of Dumbledore. “I will be leaving, then. The next few days will be very busy for me. I will be talking with you about this project at some point in the near future.” The wizard’s voice moved from professorial to its usual soft tone. “Ginny, it’s nice to see you again.” She smiled at the man. “Thanks for your help, sir.” Remus looked at Harry and smiled. “Like Arthur and Molly, I held and played with you as a baby.” He shook his head. “You can imagine how exciting it is to see you again after all these years. I hope you enjoy the other memories, but please don’t try to go through them all at once. It may be a bit much. I’m very glad you are with the Weasleys now. I did know of your aunt and uncle.” Harry saw his parents’ friend literally pull himself out of the memories. “I will talk with you soon. We still have many other topics to discuss, as well as your wandless project.” Remus Lupin got up from the table. “Molly, Arthur, thank you for not being upset by my unexpected arrival.” He nodded formally. “May I use your Floo?” “Certainly, Remus. Take care of yourself,” Molly said. “Let us know if we can be of help in any of this.” “Thanks for getting all the memories, Remus,” Mr Weasley said. “Thanks for everything, Mr Lupin,” Harry added. With a pinch of powder and the spoken location of his destination, Remus Lupin disappeared into the green flames. Not long after Mr Weasley had visited Harry to talk about that day’s meeting with Remus Lupin and the memories of his parents, Ginny scratched softly on his door and let herself in. Harry was already walking towards the door with a smile on his face. “Flying is going to be great tonight,” he enthused, in an excited whisper. “There are no clouds in the sky, so the moonlight is brilliant. We should be able to see forever when we get above the tree line.” Ginny smiled and whispered back, “Someone is excited tonight.” After Harry cast Silencing Charms on their feet, Ginny grabbed his hand, and they sneaked down the stairs, skipping over the step that Harry figured must have been loosened by the Weasley parents to provide another way of tracking the movements of their progeny. The two kids moved stealthily through the downstairs. Once outside, they raced to the shed, then to the paddock area, arriving breathless but grinning from ear to ear. Harry and Ginny flew with more passion, pushing the Cleansweeps to their limits, as they sped around the open area defined by the orchard and the expanse of trees that bordered the property. Soaring vertically together, they levelled off well above the top of the tallest trees. Ginny grinned. “The moon’s so bright you can see beyond the village. I’ve never been able to do that before.” Harry swivelled on the broom so he could see in all directions. “It’s like you can see forever. There’s nothing like being on a broom.” He glanced at the redhead next to him. “Trust me?” he asked, holding out his hand Ginny stared at it, a combination of determination and reticence combining on her face. “Wronski?” “Only if you want to,” he replied, not wanting to pressure her. “Yes,” she said strongly and grabbed his hand. The two flyers manoeuvred their brooms so they were side-by-side. “On three?” Harry asked. Ginny nodded, trying to muster all of her courage. “One, two, three!” They leaned forward simultaneously, hands clasped together, until they were pointing almost vertically towards the ground below. As they gained speed, the ground itself blurred, and Harry could feel Ginny’s grip on his hand tighten dramatically. A second later, a yell cut through the constant ‘whooshing” sound made by the air blowing past their ears. “Ahhhh, Haaarrryyy!!!” Harry’s pride in Ginny’s determination grew with each passing second. He knew she wasn’t comfortable yet, diving in the dark, but she continued to hang onto his hand, even though it was with increasing strength. Harry estimated they were within several seconds of pulling out of the dive, when the pressure on his hand lessened. He immediately let go and saw Ginny pull up on the broom, which slowed her descent and brought her course to a more horizontal plane. Immediately after noting Ginny’s actions, Harry pulled up on the broom, while moving his torso to a vertical position. The next sensation was the feel of grass grazing the bottoms of his trainers. A wide smile dominated his face, as he slowed down and slightly increased his height above the ground. He found Ginny flying slowly above him and to his right, and he turned the broom so their paths would intersect. “Ginny, you were incredible!” Harry enthused as soon as he got within hearing range of the redhead. She looked at him suspiciously. “Are you having me on?” “No.” He looked more carefully at her. “You dove a lot longer tonight. It was great. You’re almost there.” The girl stared at the boy. “You aren’t teasing me, are you? But you do it perfectly every time.” Harry closed the distance between them, so they were sitting side-by-side, nearly ten metres in the air. “Gin, you’ve taught yourself. You’re a natural. You fly better than your brothers. You’ll get it soon.” “I fly better than my brothers?” “Definitely. They know how to fly. You’re a flyer.” Ginny’s brow furrowed. “But you haven’t flown on a broom in ten years.” “I’ve heard enough stories already about how my dad and his friends sneaked behind my mum’s back and taught me to fly before I could walk.” Harry smiled at the memory. “I even have dreams of looping around people, doing dives, and I couldn’t have been much more than a year, right?” Ginny nodded. “But that was years ago. How do you fly like this now?” Harry’s demeanour turned serious. “It’s inside me, same as it’s inside you. Once it’s there, you never forget.” He grinned sheepishly. “Well, I guess you can forget, but you never stop being able to do it. The first time I got on a broom here, it was like I’d never stopped flying.” The grin became bigger. “It was a brilliant feeling.” Ginny smiled. “And you’re a brilliant flyer.” She grabbed his hand, and they slowly flew towards their tree and settled on the ground just outside the spread of its branches. “Constellations, Mr Flyer?” Harry began to laugh to himself. “Constellations . . . Star.” His soft chuckles got louder. Ginny bumped his shoulder. “You’re so bad sometimes.” She lay down on the grass, noticing it was still warm from the day’s sunshine. Harry lay down next to her. “Only sometimes? I’ll have to try harder.” Ginny shook her head. “Find Sirius. See it?” “Got it.” “Follow my hand to the really bright star . . . there,” Ginny instructed. “That star is named Bellatrix or the ‘Amazon’ star because Bellatrix was a female warrior who was banished into the skies. The constellation surrounding the star,” she guided Harry’s hand around the outline of the constellation, “is called Orion . . .” “Miss and Mr Weasley, Mr Potter, since there are just a few days remaining until the start of school, this was your last individual lesson from me.” Professor McGonagall allowed herself to relax and smiled at her students. “Each of you has put great effort into the lessons, and practiced on your own if I’m not mistaken. I am very pleased with your progress and hope you are, too.” The witch gestured for the three students to sit down at the garden table, while she took a seat opposite them. “As much as I want to, I will not be able to continue with the defensive lessons with either of you, Mr. Weasley, Mr Potter. “Miss Weasley, you should be especially proud of your accomplishments, because you have more than kept your own, even though you are a year younger than either your brother or Harry. It would be ideal if somehow,” the witch looked intently at Ron and Harry, “you were able to learn what is being taught to first years, so you can continue your outstanding progress.” Harry glanced over at Ginny and smiled, since they already had that plan in place. “Harry and Ron, I have to remind you that our relationship will be different at Hogwarts where we will be surrounded by many other students and professors. I cannot be as . . . familiar . . . as I have been here in this more informal environment, as that could be interpreted as favouritism.” Ron looked at Harry, then back to the witch. “We understand, Professor McGonagall.” “Thank you for your understanding, gentlemen. Having said that, please remember that my door is always open to you should the need arise. I do not know how Mr Potter will be received at Hogwarts, but it would be nave of us to think that his presence at Hogwarts will be ignored by the other students. Mr Weasley, even if you two are not in the same House, you will draw attention simply because Mr Potter stayed here for the past month. If you do end up in the same house and remain friends, the attention promises to be even greater.” Assured that the two boys understood her concerns, the professor continued. “I do not want either of you to feel isolated, and I certainly do not want you to take any retaliatory action on your own. I am sure you understand what I am saying. My door is always open.” The professor grimaced but her usual expression quickly returned. “Of course, everything I’ve said applies to all of the other Heads of House should one or both of you be sorted into another House.” Minerva McGonagall’s eyes bored into Harry’s. “I know you don’t like the idea of not using wandless magic at school.” The professor’s voice took on a much softer, understanding tone. “I know wandless casting is natural for you. I must ask that you accept the judgment of people who both have your best interests at heart and who have a deeper understanding of the wizarding world.” Harry absently ran the heel of his hand over his suddenly moist forehead. Ginny moved her hand under the table and put it on top of Harry’s. I don’t understand what the big deal is. Why can’t I use it? I don’t believe what Dumbledore told me. He just wants to continue making decisions for me. I just can’t figure out why. I really hope Professor McGonagall doesn’t feel that way. “I will contact you once we reach Hogwarts, so we can set up a wandless training schedule. Is that satisfactory, Mr Potter?” “Yes, Professor.” Harry’s head jerked back at the cold sound of his voice. He immediately cleared his throat, and repeated his answer in a softer tone. “Yes, of course, Professor. Thank you.” Harry rubbed his stomach, hoping the waves rolling through it would calm down soon. “Good.” She smiled at the three children. “Then, Harry, we have one last task before I leave.” When he looked confused, she continued. “Your trunk. Do you recall there are special wards we can cast on it? If you would show me the way, we can do that, and I’ll be on my way.” “Oh . . . great!” Harry got up and led the professor, Ron, and Ginny inside. The two youngest Weasleys remained in the kitchen, while the professor and Harry continued up the stairs. It took less than ten minutes for Professor McGonagall to show Harry how to cast the protective charms on the trunk and the blood ward on the secret compartment. After two drops of Harry’s blood fell onto the lock for the secret compartment while he said the password, McGonagall repaired the small cut on his finger. “Harry, the spell I am going to show you is called Episkey. Point your wand — or finger — at the place that needs to be repaired or healed. The word is the same as the spell. It can heal broken bones and stop bleeding, as well as other repairs, so it is a useful spell to know.” “Thank you, Professor.” Minerva McGonagall gestured for her young pupil to sit on his bed. As Harry was doing that, she pulled the desk chair in front of him. “Harry, I know the decision to restrict your wandless magic frustrates you.” Harry’s eyes widened immediately. “I also understand that you cannot begin to understand why that decision was made, since you are so new to the wizarding world. “Harry, you will learn about our world — your world — and your place in it very quickly, beyond the academics that are taught at Hogwarts. I would like to ask a favour, though you have no reason to do so beyond my asking. Trust in the decisions that are being made and the people who are making them in your behalf. Allow me to be part of the process.” Harry looked intently into the witch’s steel grey eyes. She’s a good person. I don’t sense anything negative in her. “I trust you.” “Thank you, Harry.” She smiled warmly at him and squeezed his shoulder. “Do you have any questions?” The professor had returned to her brisk, formal approach. “No, Professor. Thanks for everything you’ve done. It . . . ah . . . it’s helped a lot.” Harry ducked his head. McGonagall’s hand returned to Harry’s shoulder before she could stop it. “I do try, Mr Potter.” The professor eyes gleamed. “After all, it must be a good day when you don’t knock me out with one of your spells.” Harry tried mightily but he couldn’t hold back a snort at his teacher’s comment. After walking Professor McGonagall downstairs so she could Floo back to Hogwarts, Harry returned to his room, intent on finishing the third year Transfiguration text for the third time before they left for school. Ginny, Ron, and the twins were waiting for Harry when he returned. Harry immediately became concerned when he saw that the twins’ eyes were sparkling even more mischievously than usual. “Uh, hi, guys. What’re you doing in here?” Harry tried to act nonchalant, but he was ready to leave the room at top speed if he suspected a prank was being set up. He remained standing by the doorway. George exaggeratedly rubbed his eyes of his non-existent tears. “Our new brother doesn’t trust us.” “The pain in my heart is unbearable,” Fred continued dramatically. Ron shook his head. “No wonder Harry thinks you’re up to something. I know you’re not, and I still don’t trust you.” Ginny gestured to Harry to join them. “You’re going to love this. They know if they mess around, they’ll have me to worry about.” The twins shifted nervously, then started laughing. Harry pulled out the desk chair Professor McGonagall had been sitting on and looked from George to Fred and back again. “What am I going to love?” George started off. “A fortuitous intersection of unrelated events has brought about this propitious occasion.” Fred shook his head. “What my verbose alter ego is trying to say, we were coming downstairs when Remus Lupin was discussing some of the wizards in the pensieve memory.” Harry leaned forward. “The names we heard him say . . .” George said. Fred interrupted, “The nicknames he said . . .” “. . . caught our ears. They were familiar to us.” George smiled. “Since we, uh, obtained an artefact of their making, we have been continuously grateful to . . .” “Messrs. Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and Prongs, who have played a major role in our success.” The twins chorused the final line, “Harry, may we present you with the Marauder’s Map.” With a flourish, they presented an old, folded piece of parchment to the confused boy. Harry stared at the gift for several seconds, then looked uncertainly at the twins. “Uh, thanks?” “Oh.” Fred smiled. “A few details may be helpful. Open up the parchment, Harrikins.” “Most wizards will require a wand. You probably don’t need one, Oh Mighty One.” “Tap the wand on the parchment,” Fred instructed, “and say ‘I solemnly swear I am up to no good.’” Ginny chimed in. “They’re telling the truth. They showed Ron and me before you came back.” Harry did as instructed, save for eliminating the wand. After repeating the pass phrase, lines immediately appeared on the parchment, including the name of the artefact, The Marauder’s Map and its creators, Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot, and . . . Prongs. Harry sunk back in the chair. “My father made this.” He stared at the highly detailed map as if it were the most precious gift in the world. “This is incredible. Thanks, guys.” Harry’s brow furrowed, and he stared at the twins. “How did you two get this?” “Boring story,” George scoffed. “Not relevant,” Fred dismissed. “What is relevant is that it shows every student in the school and every professor. See?” Fred pointed to one of the towers. “There’s Professor Dumbledore.” “Of equal value,” George said, “are the seven secret passages out of the castle and into Hogwarts. The tunnels for these,” he pointed them out, “have either collapsed or Filch, the castle’s caretaker, knows about them.” Fred pointed out several other tunnels, including one below the weirdly name Whomping Willow. “These are open and Filch knows nothing about them.” The twins’ expressions became serious. Fred explained, “When we heard that your dad and his mates created this masterpiece, we knew we could no longer retain ownership of the Map.” George smiled. “At least now we know why you’re so powerful, Harry. This is brilliant work. We haven’t come close to figuring out how they charmed the parchment to show everything it does. Just recreating the castle must have taken years.” “We also figured the Map will come in handy when you need to get around the castle and don’t want to worry about running into anyone,” Fred added. George leaned closer to Harry and lowered his voice. “We doubt the faculty would look kindly on a student possessing such a useful tool.” “It also would be wise to keep its existence secret from your fellow students,” Fred cautioned. “And in either case, if someone is close to seeing it, ‘Mischief managed’ erases all of the lines . . .” “. . . leaving just an innocent blank piece of parchment in your hands.” Harry thought ‘mischief managed,’ and the lines quickly disappeared, leaving the parchment blank. “I guess it’s best to erase the map, whenever you’re through with it.” “Right in one, Harry,” George said. “While it breaks our hearts to part with the Map, you are its rightful heir.” “And we figure you’ll need it more than we do,” Fred added. “Thanks, George, Fred.” Harry’s eyes gained a mischievous light. “I’m sure there will be times when you’ll want to borrow the Map.” They looked hopeful. “I’ll remember what you’ve done today and be happy to lend it to you . . . for an appropriate price.” Harry smiled and raised his eyebrows. Fred gasped, “What have we created here?” “It’s a monster, I tell you.” George’s eyes grew wild and he backed away from Harry. He grinned at the two boys. “Thanks. This means a lot to me, especially that you’d give it up when it’s played a role in your success.” “Are all of you upstairs?” Mrs Weasley’s voice startled the five kids. George shouted back. “If you’re referring to Fred and me, Ron, Harry, and Ginny, then yes we are.” “Let’s get a move on. We’re going to Diagon Alley for your school supplies.” The group clattered down the stairs and gathered in front of the sitting room fireplace. Mrs Weasley barked out orders. “From the Leaky Cauldron, we’ll go straight to Gringotts — no lollygagging.” George whispered to Fred, “Who’s Lolly and why would we gag her?” Mrs Weasley froze the twins with a glare. “Harry, I understand you have an appointment at the bank. Arthur and Ginny will accompany you, as you requested. The rest of us,” her eyes raked the remaining family members, “will buy school supplies and robes. We will meet for lunch at 12:30 at the Leaky Cauldron. From there, we will finish our shopping, Arthur will provide supervision while Ginny picks out a new wardrobe for Harry.” Harry tried to disappear through the floorboards, while the assembled Weasley clan whistled, hooted, and applauded the announcement of the replacement of Harry’s current wardrobe. Mr Weasley moved over to Harry’s side and ruffled his hair. “Welcome to the family, son. Molly’s been looking forward to saying that for at least a week now.” Harry looked at the matriarch and was pulled in by her warm smile. “Welcome, Harry,” she said. |
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