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SIYE Time:15:22 on 28th March 2024
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The Refiner's Fire
By Abraxan

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Category: Post-OotP, Buried Gems
Characters:All
Genres: Action/Adventure, Fluff, General
Warnings: Death, Sexual Situations, Violence
Story is Complete
Rating: R
Reviews: 618
Summary: In the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts, Harry Potter learns to come to terms with the death of Sirius. As he heals and grows emotionally, he learns how to enjoy life again. But there's a war on, and Voldemort's primary objective is to kill Harry Potter, by any means necessary. As a result, Harry and his friends have a very adventurous sixth year at Hogwarts. Canon-based with some OC. HG, RHr, RT.
Hitcount: Story Total: 380710; Chapter Total: 15382







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DISCLAIMER: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by JK Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury Books, Scholastic Books and Raincoast Books, and Warner Bros., Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Author notes: For those who wondered why a simple “Reparo” wouldn’t clean up and replace all this glass — it’s tiny fine particles as well as shards, and every kind of glass imaginable is mixed together, making it too much of a mess for a “reparo” spell to fix. Many thanks to my brilliant Brit-picker, Kelpie, and my beta-readers, Blakevich, Starfox and Pilar!

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

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/HPRef inersFire



Chapter 08 - Aftermath



Ginny found Ron and Fred using brooms to sweep up the glass. “Whatever happened to doing things with magic?” she asked, mystified.

“We tried that, and found out it was dangerous if we didn’t use the right spell,” Fred replied with a grimace, some obviously new cuts on his hands.

“Boys!” Ginny said in exasperation. “Evanesco!” she said with a wave of her wand. The glass disappeared from the area where she’d aimed her wand. “Any questions?” she said with a small but cheeky smile at her brothers.

“Yeah,” Ron said grumpily. “Why didn’t we think of that?” He and Fred separated and did small Vanishing Spells throughout the hall and entryway. Behind the troll foot umbrella stand, Ron found Harry’s badly damaged glasses. “Blimey! What happened to these?”

I wonder how they got over there?” Ginny said.

“Remus threw them — I saw him do it as I was getting into the cupboard under the stairs,” Fred replied. “I remember thinking it was a good thing he did that, or Harry might be blind — imagine all that glass right in front of your eyes, with something like that happening!” He shuddered. “And I don’t know how Harry ever survived living in a cupboard under the stairs for eleven years. This one’s pretty cramped and kind of scary — lots of spiders, Ron!” Fred grinned at his brother’s nervous reaction. “And this cupboard’s a lot bigger than the one at Privet Drive.”

Ron looked at the broken glasses. “These frames are so twisted, I doubt they can be fixed. And there’s only a little bit of glass left in them. Remus must have crushed them when he pulled them off.”

“I suppose he’ll have to go to Diagon Alley for new ones,” Fred replied. “I guess things will just be blurry for him for a while.”

“How’s Harry doing?” Ron asked Ginny, his concern apparent.

“He’s still unconscious, not moving at all. I don’t know what to do about it. I do wish Mum was here,” she said with a catch in her voice.

Ron put his arm around his sister. “She’ll be fine, Ginny,”

His concern broke through Ginny’s defences and she wailed. “She did it to save me! She could’ve saved herself. . .”

“Ginny!” Ron said firmly, turning her to face him and taking her shoulders in his big angular hands. “Stop that. She did what she wanted to do. She wanted a daughter so much that she kept trying even though she had six sons, did you know that? She kept thinking, ‘one more try’ and then finally you arrived. She couldn’t love you more if she tried. I’m not saying she doesn’t love the rest of us, but you’re her daughter. She would die for you and be glad if by sacrificing herself, she’d saved you. You know that’s true. She’d die to save any of us, but especially for you.”

Ron had never been so eloquent. That very fact shocked Ginny out of some of her grief. She stared at him amazed - he was almost a man. He was taller than most of the men she knew, and his voice was very deep now. And suddenly he was acting like a man, meeting a need with wisdom and maturity. The whole thing was a bit of a surprise, but a nice one. She hugged him tightly, saying, “Thanks.” She knew without looking that his face might be resolute and mature at the moment, but his ears were bright red.


* * * * *


Remus sat by Harry’s bed, as he’d been doing for hours. Ginny would come and go, bringing food and drinks, checking on her patients, but she didn’t know what else she could do for them. She wanted to stay with Harry too, but she felt she might be intruding. Madam Pomfrey had commended Ginny’s work on everyone, and given them all a potion that made their wounds heal more quickly. She thought Harry would wake up when he was ready, and there was no way to hurry him. They’d just have to wait. She returned to Hogwarts, leaving Ginny with instructions on how to continue Harry’s care, and to let her know when he woke up.

Snape swept into Harry’s room like a giant bat, a steaming goblet in his hand. “The moon is full tonight,” Snape told Lupin. “Have you been taking your potion this week?”

“Yes, I have. Thank you, Severus,” Remus replied turning away from Harry for only a moment. “I’ve been wondering if I’d be safe staying here with Harry.” He glanced at Snape, whose eyes glittered malevolently. “No, I suppose, even with the potion, I should be locked up away from people,” he finished sadly. He stood up and accepted the goblet from Snape, drinking it as he walked toward the door. “Someone will need to sit with him, though.”

Snape sneered. Surely Lupin couldn’t be asking him to sit with. . .Potter?

Ginny, who had been clearing the tea things from the room, said quietly, “I’ll do it, Remus.”

Remus looked gratefully at the girl. She was worn out, but he knew even if someone else stayed with Harry, she’d still be hovering around, trying to do whatever she could to help. She was very like her mother that way. “That’s very kind of you, Ginny. Thank you. I’ll be back in the morning. Can you manage that much time?”

“Yes, I can do it. I’ll get Hermione or Ron to help if I need it.”

“All right then. Thank you again.” Remus followed Snape out of the room and down the stairs, so he could be locked up in the basement for his transformation.


* * * * *


It was very late. Moonlight spilled through the window, washing Ginny’s red hair in a gossamer light as she sat holding Harry’s hand. “Come on, Harry, wake up,” she whispered. “Wake up. It’s not healthy for you to be out this long. Wake up, please!” He was so still, he looked like a sculpture, not a living being, especially the way the moonlight was casting his face into planes of light and shadow. She sighed, released his hand and stood up to stretch. “Harry, Harry, Harry, whatever am I going to do with you?” she mused. “I wish I could think of some way to wake you up.” She got herself a drink and walked around a bit, stretching her tired muscles, and then sat by the bed again. “I’m so tired,” she muttered. “I’ll just rest here a minute, OK? I promise not to bother you,” she said sleepily to the still-unconscious boy as she crawled up onto the bed and lay next to him. “So tired,” she murmured and fell asleep.

Some time later, Harry stirred. Awareness came to him slowly. He knew he was lying down. Right, that made sense. His head hurt, so he must be alive. OK, I can open my eyes now. I know I can. Come on, eyes, open. . . he thought as he struggled up from the depths of blackness where he’d been for who knew how long. He opened his eyes and saw that he was indeed in a bed, in a darkened room with only one candle glowing across the room. The candle and the moonlight made a golden haze around the head next to him. A head next to me? Huh? He rubbed his eyes, and his motion woke Ginny.

“Harry! You’re awake! How do you feel?” Ginny said, excited to see those green eyes open again.

“Erm. . .” he began, then swallowed, cleared his throat, swallowed again. “Thirsty.”

Ginny got up and poured him a cup of water. “Here, drink this.”

“What is it?” he said suspiciously. Whenever he was sick, somebody was always pouring nasty potions down his throat. It wasn’t his favourite way to wake up.

“Water. I have a potion to give you, too, but Madam Pomfrey said you should have water first.”

“Am I in the hospital wing? It doesn’t look right,” he said, screwing up his face in an effort to squint around the room as he drank from the cup she held for him.

“No, you’re in your room at Grimmauld Place.” She turned up the lamps so he could see the room.

“It looks. . .different,” he said, looking around, then reaching toward the bedside table. “Where are my glasses?”

“I. . um. . .I thought your room was a bit grim, so I decorated it while you were . . . um. . .asleep,” she replied. She wasn’t sure how much information she should give Harry about anything. They certainly didn’t need him to get overly upset and blow up other things.

“My glasses?” he prompted.

“Oh. They’re broken. I’m sorry, Harry.”

“How’d they get broken? Can’t Hermione repair them? She’s done it before.”

Ginny picked up the twisted wreck of Harry’s glasses. “This is all that’s left of them. None of us know how to repair this kind of damage.”

“Bloody hell. They look like a herd of hippogriffs trampled them,” he groaned. “Now what am I going to do?”

“You can get new ones,” Ginny offered. “How long has it been since your eyes were examined? These frames were getting small for your face anyway, you’ve grown so much.”

“But I like them,” he protested. “And I need them. I can’t see what you’ve done to the room, for one thing. I see bright spots of colour, but what are they?”

“Oh, I put up a Chudley Cannons poster over there,” Ginny replied, happy to have a less dangerous topic to talk about, “and that’s my Weird Sisters poster. . .”

Harry’s eyes were round with surprise. “You gave me your Weird Sisters poster? But you love that poster!”

“I can see it here,” she replied reasonably. “I thought it would make your room more cheerful. This house is so dark inside, and it doesn’t look like anyone young has lived here for ages.”

“That’s because nobody young has lived here for ages,” Harry replied with a soft chuckle. “Thanks, Ginny, I think it’s brilliant. What’s that over there?” he continued, nodding toward another colourful spot on the wall.

“That’s a new poster,” she said hesitantly, not sure how he was going to react to it. “It’s a really nice one. Gryffindor Quidditch.”

“You’re kidding! Someone put out a Gryffindor Quidditch poster? Wow! What’s it look like?”

“It. . .erm. . .it looks like you. Ron says it’s similar to the picture on the Famous Wizards card that you’re on.”

He was taken aback. “You mean there’s a huge picture of. . .me . . .on the wall?”

“Erm. . .yes,” Ginny replied nervously.

Harry stared at the poster on the wall, which was just a red and gold blur to him. “What does Ron think of the room now? And where is he, anyway?” he asked uncomfortably. He didn’t want to go through another round of Ron’s jealousy over him being “the famous Harry Potter.”

“He likes it. But this is just your room for now — he’s in with the twins.”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve been sick. I’m sure he’ll move back in when you’re better.”

“I’ve been sick? What’s wrong with me?” Harry was glad Ginny was finally getting around to telling him what was going on.

“I don’t know that I should be the one to tell you. Remus. . .”

“Where is Remus?”

“In the basement — it’s the full moon tonight.”

“Has he had his potion? Is he all right?” Harry asked anxiously.

“Yes, he’s fine, just worried about you.”

“Ginny, what’s going on? Tell me,” he insisted, his eyes boring into hers.

She sighed. What was the best way to do this? She’d been pondering this very thing for hours, and had never come up with a good answer. “OK. Um. . . . What’s the last thing you remember?”

Harry leaned back against his pillow, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I did my last essays for school, then went to bed. Something woke me up. . . Remus, it was Remus! He was at my house! Why was he there?” he pondered, speaking more to himself than to her. “He said. . .hmmm. Oh, he said to get my broom and Invisibility Cloak. There were Death Eaters in the area and I was in danger.” He cast a startled look at Ginny. “Were we attacked by Death Eaters? Remus is all right, isn’t he?”

“Yes, Harry, he’s fine, just undergoing his transformation tonight, that’s all.”

“OK. We were flying. . . .” His face fell. “No. Oh no.” His body contorted in grief, Harry cried in great gulping sobs. “NO!”

Ginny put her arms around him, trying to calm him. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

He pulled away from her, pummelling her with his fists in his frenzy of grief. “NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” he shrieked.

“Harry, don’t make me Stun you!” Ginny cried, trying to protect herself from his blows. She backed away from him, her wand aimed at him, but he had subsided into his grief. He sat curled up, his face against his knees, rocking his body, pulling at his hair when he wasn’t hitting his legs. Ginny watched him for a few moments, then sat facing him and gently pulled his arms away from his legs. She folded him into her arms, put his head on her shoulder and rocked him as he cried. After a long, long time, he calmed down and relaxed in her arms.

“I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled away from her to look her in the eyes. “Did I hurt you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” she replied. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, his face crumpling into tears again. “I’m sorry.”

“Shhhh,” she whispered, pulling his head to her shoulder again. She held him until he quietened. This time when he sat up, he looked calm and resolute.

“Do you know when. . .their. . . funerals are?” he asked haltingly.

“No, but Hermione will be checking the Muggle paper for the notice in the morning — she did that today, too.”

“Hermione’s here? I thought she was still on holiday with her parents.”

“She just got home. When she heard what happened, she came as soon as she could to help.”

“Oh,” he replied. After sitting quietly for several minutes, he scrubbed at the tears still streaming down his face and said, “How long since it happened?”

“It was last evening — just over 24 hours ago.”

“Then I haven’t missed it. I need. . .I need a suit. And I need to send flowers. P-pink r-roses,” he sniffled, then gulped back a sob, “for C-c-casey. Daisies for Patricia. . . she’s always. . .she liked to make daisy chains for her hair. I don’t know what to get for Doug and Margaret,” he moaned in despair.

“Hermione will probably know what’s best,” Ginny assured him. “She’s here now. I’ll ask her to help us with this when she wakes up, OK? That should be enough time, don’t you think? There aren’t any shops open now.”

“All right,” he agreed. “I’ll need to get my bank card from the Dursleys to pay for things. I want to get Remus a suit too. I want him there with me.”

“Harry, we’ll all go if you’ll let us,” Ginny offered gently.

“You will?”

“Of course. We all liked her. She was a very sweet girl,” Ginny said sincerely.

“I thought you . . . didn’t like her,” Harry said hesitantly.

“Well, at first, I didn’t, but she grew on me,” she admitted with a shrug.

Harry gulped and caught his breath shakily, sitting up and studying Ginny. He touched her damp shoulder. “I’m sorry — I got you all wet.”

“No problem,” she said, performing a Drying Charm.

“You and Hermione are so good at that kind of charm. I always forget which ones to use,” Harry said with a small attempt at a smile.

Ginny flushed under his praise. “You’re good at lots of other things,” she reminded him.

“But that kind of skill makes life more comfortable. I wish I was better at those.”

“I could teach you if you’d like,” she offered.

“I’ll think about it,” he replied earnestly. “Dumbledore already wants me to take extra classes next term, so I’ll have to see how my timetable works out.”

“What kind of classes?”

“Wandless magic,” he replied absently. He sat up straighter and looked around. “Where are my glasses?”

Ginny was worried. Had he already forgotten? “They’re broken. Don’t you remember?”

“Of course I remember,” he replied impatiently. “Where are they?”

“They fell on the floor a little while ago. Hang on,” she said as she bent down to retrieve them. “Here.”

Harry held the glasses in his hands and began rubbing them with his thumbs, thinking of the time he’d repaired Casey’s swimsuit top. That thought broke his concentration and he dissolved in tears again.

“Harry, what is it?” Ginny asked, very concerned.

“It’s. . .never mind.”

“You know, I’ve read that sharing things that upset you helps you deal with them. So what’s upsetting you about your glasses?”

He chuckled softly, a very sad sound. “You really are going to be a healer, aren’t you?”

“I think so.”

“You’ll be brilliant,” he assured her. Taking a deep breath and blowing it out hard, he said, “I was thinking of . . .Casey. . .when something broke and I fixed it for her. I thought maybe I could do the same with my glasses.”

“What did you fix?”

Harry blushed and looked down at his hands. “Her swimsuit top. The catch on it broke and there wasn’t enough material to tie it together. I worked out how to fix the catch.”

“How did you fix it?”

“Wandless magic. That’s why Dumbledore wants me to have extra classes in it, so I can control it.” He looked at Ginny seriously, then thought a moment. “What happened to you? You have scratches on your face and hands.”

“We all do — you do too.”

“Why?” Harry looked down at his hands, noticing for the first time the cuts on his hands and arms.

“Erm. . .some glass broke and we all got hurt,” she answered carefully, hoping he’d be satisfied with that much information.

“Where? How did it break?”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Harry. I don’t understand what happened.”

“What happened? Just tell me.”

Ginny studied his eyes. He seemed to be calm and in control of himself, but she knew his control was fragile right now. “Do you remember when Remus brought you here?”

“I think my brain locked up when I saw the Dark Mark over. . .” he said hesitantly.

“Remus had to Stun you to get you here safely. When he Enervated you, Tonks got here and told us the news about Casey’s family. You took it very hard, which is completely understandable. We were all standing close around you because you’d been Stunned when you came in and we were worried about you.”

“Who was there?”

“Ron, Fred, George, Mum and me, besides Remus. Tonks was in the living room.”

“So what happened?” Harry asked, staring at her intently, willing her to tell him what he needed to know.

“Uh. . .when you. . .um. . .”

“WHAT? Spit it out, Ginny!”

Ginny flinched back from him, afraid he was going to get violent again.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you!” he said, reaching out and taking her hands in his, stroking them gently with his thumbs. “I know something bad happened. I know I caused it. I honestly need to know what it was. Please?”

She gulped nervously and nodded. “When Remus told you, and you understood, and Tonks confirmed it, you. . .screamed. And all the glass in the house shattered and whirled around in the air like a tornado. It was amazing, but very scary. Mum threw me to the floor and covered me with her body to protect me. Remus pulled your glasses off your face to save your eyes, and threw himself over you to protect you. Ron, Fred, George and Tonks found places to hide so they weren’t badly hurt. M-mum and Remus got the worst of it.” As she finished, her voice faltered and tears filled her eyes.

Harry gripped her hands more tightly. “Are they all right?”

“Remus is. He said healing quickly is one good thing about being a werewolf. Mum’s in St. Mungo’s. It was a good job Tonks was here. She gave her first aid right away and stopped the bleeding, but Mum lost a lot of blood. I was covered in it.” Ginny was beginning to break down, the horror of that night vivid in her memory. “Ron thought I was. . .d-dead at first, I had so much blood on me.” She cringed, tears streaming down her face. “I had to wash my hair so many times to get the blood out of it. And my hands — they were covered, and then they were covered in your blood, and Remus’s and my brothers’ — I washed between each person, and I washed and washed, and couldn’t get all of it off. I don’t think my hands will ever feel clean again,” she said, pulling her hands away from his and rubbing them together anxiously.

Harry’s eyes filled with tears again. “I’m so sorry about your mum, and . . .”

“Stop it, Harry, you couldn’t help it and nobody blames you. Don’t worry about it. Just get well, then we’ll all feel better. Mum will be fine soon, I’m sure,” she said, hoping she was right.

Harry nodded his thanks, then took one of her hands in both of his, turning it palm up and looking at it seriously. He rubbed the palm and each finger gently, then turned her hand over and did the same to the back, spending extra time around her knuckles and nails, just rubbing and massaging her hand softly without saying a word. Then he repeated the procedure on her other hand, continuing until he finally felt her relax. “Better?”

“Yes, thanks,” she said in amazement. “What did you do?”

“I don’t know. It just felt right,” he said with a shrug.

A huge yawn escaped Ginny. “Oh, I’m sorry!” she said, blushing.

“Have you had any rest at all since this started?”

“I was just resting a little when you woke up,” she said, her eyes downcast. How embarrassing that he woke up with her asleep on the pillow beside him! Was she snoring, or dribbling, or something equally stupid? She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, she was just so tired.

“Where’s Ron’s bed?” Harry asked as he looked around.

“In the twins’ room.”

“Oh, right. You did tell me that,” he said, shaking his head. “Sorry.”

“No problem. Why’d you ask?”

“You should go to bed now, Ginny, you look dead on your feet.”

“I can’t leave you. You’ve been unconscious a long time. And by the way, Mr. Potter, you haven’t taken your potion!” She picked up his dose of potion and handed it to him. He downed it in one very disgusted gulp.

“Eauw, gross! Why does medicine always have to taste bad?”

“So people won’t take it when they don’t need to, I suspect,” she answered reasonably. “Now lie down and I’ll tuck you in.”

He smiled a little and lay back down, enjoying the attention. Then he slid over and said, “It’s a big bed, Gin. You need some rest. Just lie here like you were doing when I woke up.”

“I wasn’t snoring, was I?”

“Yeah, that’s what woke me up,” Harry teased half-heartedly. When he saw the pained look on her face, he relented. “You weren’t snoring, Ginny. I’m just playing with you.”

“Fine way to treat your healer,” she grumbled, but not seriously. Ginny darkened the room again, one single candle all the light necessary besides the moonlight spilling through the window. She stretched out next to him, leaving a careful space between them and staying on top of the covers.

“Are you comfortable?” he murmured in a tired voice. “Warm enough?”

“Mmm,” she replied sleepily. She was already falling asleep and didn’t notice Harry tugging some of the covers from under her and tucking them in around her. He shoved his pillow over so she could share it, and then settled down to sleep himself. He lay awake a while, thinking of Casey and her family, trying not to think of them, remembering the good times, mourning the times he’d been looking forward to that never would happen now. He felt numb inside, as if he was a hollow shell. It was going to be hard to get through the next few days. He looked over at Ginny, noticing the way the moonlight haloed her hair in reddish gold light. He was glad he had good friends who were going to help him through this. He’d pushed everyone away when Sirius died, but this time he knew they weren’t going to allow him to do that. And for that, he was grateful.


* * * * *


Harry was dreaming happy dreams, lying somewhere warm and comfortable, enjoying the weight of the head nestled on his shoulder. He tightened his arm around her shoulders, making sure she wasn’t still part of his dream. Nope, those were real shoulders. A smile tickled his mouth as her hair tickled his nose. Still mostly asleep, he put his hand under her chin and lifted her mouth to his. His initial soft kiss quickly turned into something more serious and he wrapped both arms around her, enjoying the taste of her, savouring the scent of her hair. Wait a minute, she usually smells like roses. What is this fragrance? It’s nice, just different.

“Mmmmm, hello,” he murmured sleepily. “You do know how to wake someone from a nap nicely. You using a new shampoo? Your hair smells different.”

The girl laced her fingers in his hair and locked her lips to his again, kissing him hungrily, then suddenly drew back. “Oh! Harry, I’m . . . .” Beet red, Ginny Weasley realized her dream was as real as it could get. Yes, she’d been sleeping on Harry Potter’s shoulder — eek, his bare shoulder! - and yes, he’d awakened her by kissing her. What a delicious sensation that was! But she wasn’t who he thought she was. I’m a horrible, horrible girl! she berated herself.

Still mostly asleep, Harry squinted, peering at her blearily. “Cas-. . .Ginny?” His eyes flew open wide in shock. “Was that you? Oh, no! I’m so sorry, I don’t know what. . .”

“I do. You thought I was her. It’s all right, Harry. I’m sorry I acted like that,” Ginny said, sliding off the bed and sitting demurely in the chair beside it, her face flaming red.

“Acted like what?” Harry was flummoxed.

“Kissing you back like that, even after you stopped. You must have known, but I was still asleep and thought I was dreaming, and. . . .” Her words trailed off and she wrung her hands miserably. She was surprised to hear Harry’s chuckle. “What’s funny?”

“We both are. It was an accident. I was the one who invited you to sleep here. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you,” he apologized, and then sniffed as tears welled up in his eyes again. He sat up and rubbed hard at his eyes with the heels of his hands. “Am I ever going to stop crying? Damn.” They were silent a few minutes as he tried to control himself. When he caught his breath again, he glanced up at Ginny. “I’m kicking myself for not noticing the difference, but really, you are the same size as her, your hair is nearly as long . . .you felt. . . so much like her in my arms.” He paused, pulling his knees up to his face and banging his head against them a few times. “I’m such an idiot. I was having the nicest dream. Casey . . .” he choked back a sob. “She brings. . .she used to bring me lunch every day at work, and I usually fell asleep under the tree behind the workshop before she got there. She had all kinds of silly ways of waking me up, but sometimes she’d just lie down with me and snuggle into my arms like that, and . . .this felt like one of those times.”

His voice was so quiet, Ginny could barely hear him. He pressed his face into his knees, his arms holding his legs so tightly, his knuckles were white. She was afraid if she touched him, he’d explode, or dissolve into tears again. But she couldn’t help herself. She sat on the bed and put her arm around his back, resting her head against his shoulder, her long hair spilling down his bare back.

“That feels nice,” he murmured after a while, pulling his face away from his knees just a little.

“What?”

“Your hair on my back. Tickles. It’s nice.” He turned to look at her. “I’m sorry, Ginny, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings or anything.”

“And I didn’t mean to take advantage of you, either,” she said seriously.

Harry smiled at her briefly, then frowned. “Ron is going to kill me.”

“For what?” said Ginny, surprised.

“For hurting your feelings,” he said glumly.

“Don’t be silly. You didn’t do anything wrong. And besides, I wouldn’t let him hurt you,” she said in a firm voice.

Harry raised an eyebrow, amused in spite of his sadness. “Can I watch? That should be interesting, watching little you put giant Ron in his place.”

“I’ve done it before. I can do it again,” she said stoutly.

“And I believe you. You are your mother’s daughter, after all.”

Ginny smiled at him, then looked at the window. “It’s still dark. You should go back to sleep.”

“You too.”

“You really want to try that again?” she said in disbelief.

“It wasn’t so bad, was it?” he said with a sad smile. “It felt good, honestly.”

“To me, too.” She looked at him seriously. “I’m not your sister, Harry. You should remember that.”

”I know.” He lay back down and opened his arm for her to join him. Ginny climbed back on the bed and snuggled contentedly into his arms. Harry felt tears sliding down his cheeks, missing the girl who should have been there, but grateful for the concern of the one who was.


* * * * *


Early morning sunlight woke Harry a few hours later. He squinted in the light, then tried to slide out from under Ginny’s head on his shoulder and her arm thrown across his chest. She tightened her grip on him and snuggled into his shoulder again.

“Ah, Ginny?” he said quietly, not wanting to startle her. “Ginny? Wake up, please?”

“Mrumrumph,” she mumbled.

“Ginny? Please? I need to get up.”

“Hmm?” She opened her eyes and squinted, then her eyes flew open wide when she realized she was nose to nose with Harry Potter. “Oh! Um. . .”

“It’s OK, relax. I just need to get up. Loo, you know?” Harry said, trying not to laugh at her expression and the blush that rivalled her hair in redness.

“Oh! OK. Hang on,” she said, standing up and straightening her clothes, smoothing her hair as well as she could. Putting on her best professional manner, she said, “Here we go, young man. Easy does it,” and helped him sit up with his legs off the bed. “Feeling all right?”

“Yeah, so far,” he replied. She helped him stand up and start across the floor. “Whoa, hang on,” he exclaimed, reaching out to grip the wardrobe. “Bit dizzy.”

“Take it slow and steady. You’ll be fine,” she assured him as she ducked under his arm and wrapped hers around his back. “Hang on to me.”

They shuffled slowly out of the room and into the bathroom at the top of the stairs. Once she got him inside, Ginny said, “OK, you’re on your own now. I’ll be waiting out here when you’re ready to go back. If you need help in there, yell, and I’ll call Ron, Fred or Remus to help you, OK?”

“OK. I should be fine,” Harry replied. He moved very slowly as he took care of his toilet needs, washed his face and brushed his teeth. He was surprised how hard it was to wash your face without a mirror. The frame was all that was left of the one that had been in this bathroom. When he was finished, he went to the door and opened it, finding Ginny leaning quietly against the wall waiting for him. “All done.”

“Good. Come on, I’ll get you settled and then bring you some breakfast,” she said as she pulled his arm over her shoulder and wrapped hers around his waist to help him to his room. After a couple of steps, Harry clutched his head and started to fall. “Harry!” Ginny cried as he started to fall down the stairs. She did her best to catch him, but he was just too big for her. “HELP!” she cried as she tumbled down a couple of stairs after him.

Remus Apparated just below where they were on the stairs and caught Harry as he fell. He lifted the boy in his arms. “What happened?”

“Dizzy,” Harry explained cryptically.

“Ginny? Are you all right?” Remus asked as Ginny pulled herself back up the stairs.

“I’m fine, I just slid a couple of steps trying to catch him. Scraped my legs a bit, nothing too bad.”

“I’m glad you’re OK.” He looked down at Harry. “Still dizzy?”

Harry squinted at his godfather. “Dunno. Oh, morning, Remus. How are you feeling? I’m sorry about. . .”

“Don’t worry about that,” Remus interrupted. “I’m fine. Everybody else is doing very well, too. Even Molly is doing better — we just got word, Ginny.”

Ginny’s face showed her relief.

“Looks like you’re going to have a lump on your head there, Harry,” Remus mused as he carried his godson upstairs. “How many steps did you hit?”

“I lost count after three,” Harry answered. “I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you.”

“All right,” Remus agreed as he set Harry down on his bed. “But first you need to eat something.”

“I’ll eat and talk to you at the same time, all right? We don’t have a lot of time.”

“I’ll go and get breakfast for both of you, and some ice for the lump on your head, Harry,” Ginny offered, and left.

“What do you mean, we don’t have a lot of time?” Remus asked.

“The . . . their funerals should be today or tomorrow, the way Muggles usually do things. It’s usually within three days of . . .” he couldn’t continue for a moment. “I have to go, and I’d appreciate it if you’d go with me.” Harry told Remus about his wanting both of them to have Muggle suits, and that he wanted to send flowers as well. “Hermione can order them for me, I’m sure she knows how,” Harry concluded. “And I’ll need to get new glasses,” he added, picking up his mangled frames and stroking them quietly. He felt as if he’d lost an old friend. He’d worn these same glasses most of his life. Yes, the frames were too small for his face now, but he thought he looked odd without them. As he stroked the frames, the dents and twists started to straighten out.

“Harry?” Remus said quietly. “How are you doing that?”

“I honestly don’t know.”

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing. Albus should see this. I’ll be right back.”

“I can send for him,” his godson offered, and sent off an Adfero message. Within moments, Dumbledore came in.

“Ah, Harry! It’s so good to see you awake. I looked in on you while you were unconscious. You had all of us quite worried,” the old wizard said with a warm smile. “Now what is it you said Remus wanted me to see?”

“Watch his hands, Albus,” Remus said, nodding at Harry, who was still quietly stroking his mangled glasses. “Remember how twisted his frames were? I showed them to you. And the lenses were gone but for a few small bits.”

Dumbledore leaned in closely to watch what Harry was doing. “What spell are you using?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think I’m using one, actually. I’m just trying to remember exactly how they looked. It’s hard, I never looked at them that much, I looked through them. . . .” His voice trailed off as he concentrated on his task.

Ginny had followed Dumbledore into the room, bringing a tray with breakfast for Harry and Remus. “You can see how they look on your poster,” she suggested.

“I hadn’t thought of that,” he said, and rose unsteadily to walk to the wall and study the poster. Remus walked beside him, concerned he might get dizzy again and fall. “Oh, I see. I didn’t have the curve quite right there,” he muttered as his hands continued to work. The others watched him silently as Harry studied his poster and his fingers stroked the glasses over and over. Suddenly he stopped. “I can’t think what else to do. I guess they’re as good as I’ll get them.” He held them up to his face and looked through them. “They aren’t quite right, but I can see better now.” He put them on, squinting as his eyes tried to adjust to the imperfect lenses.

Dumbledore smiled warmly at Harry. “That was a nice bit of conjuring, creating those lenses, Harry. Conjured things don’t last forever, so you will need to go to Diagon Alley and get new glasses. I’d like to speak to you about that and some other matters.” He glanced at Remus and Ginny, who took the hint and left.

“What other matters?” Harry asked as he settled back in bed, pulling his pillow up so he could sit up, then leaning against it.

“I thought I would wait until you were older to speak to you about this, Harry, but I believe fate has stepped in to hasten things.”

“What do you mean?” Dumbledore’s words made Harry nervous.

Dumbledore took his half-moon spectacles off and handed them to the boy. “Try these on.”

“I doubt we have the same prescription,” Harry began, taking the glasses in his hands.

“Take your glasses off and put mine on. Look over them at me, then look through them at me,” Dumbledore instructed.

“OK.” Harry put the glasses on and looked over them and saw a blurry image of his smiling headmaster, then tilted his head so he could look through them and saw the same thing. “What am I supposed to see?”

“Now look over them again, Harry.”

Harry looked over the glasses and was amazed to see Dumbledore was gone. “Professor?”

“Yes, Harry?” came Dumbledore’s disembodied voice.

“Where. . .where are you?”

“Look through the glasses again, my boy.”

“Oh, there you are! Where’d you go?”

“I’ve been right here all along. These glasses do many things besides helping me see, such as seeing through Invisibility Cloaks, Invisibility Charms — which is what I was using just now — and do a wide variety of other things. There’s an opti-wizard in Diagon Alley who can make similar glasses for you. He can add spells to make them unbreakable, impervious to rain, dirt and fog - which will help you with your Quidditch, I imagine - help you see around corners, help you locate specific people, things like that, as well as being self-correcting so they change as your vision changes. These glasses are one of the several ways I’ve used to keep track of you all these years, Harry. I didn’t want you to have such glasses when you were too young, because you wouldn’t be mature enough to use them wisely. But I believe the time has come to give you such defences.”

Harry’s eyes had grown larger as Dumbledore spoke. “Wow,” he breathed. “That would be great! Do all wizard glasses have these powers?”

“Oh, no, by no means. Such powers are only given to a very few, and the opti-wizard gives himself a Memory Charm after delivering the glasses so he can’t remember who has glasses with extra powers, or which powers their glasses have. That way, he protects the secrets of his customers. It wouldn’t do for just anyone to know, for instance, that I can see through Invisibility Cloaks, now, would it?” He smiled at Harry, his eyes twinkling. “Such knowledge might inhibit certain activities, not all of which are bad.” The old wizard chuckled.

Harry blushed, then smiled back at him. “Yes, I can see that. But don’t most wizards know he can do that kind of work? How do they know what to ask for when they go to him?”

“Such knowledge is passed on in a mentoring fashion. Someone who knows these things recognizes someone else who is deserving of such a tool, and tells them about it, as I am doing with you. There are wards set in place to prevent Dark Wizards from entering the shop, so our secret stays safely among those who are of good intent. Those who just need glasses to see and don’t have a mentor to tell them about the other possibilities just get glasses that help them see better.” Dumbledore sat back and tilted his head as he looked at Harry. “It’s been quite some time since I’ve been to Diagon Alley. I would like to go with you when you go shopping today, so I can ensure you get your glasses done, shall we say, ‘properly.’”

“That would be great, Professor,” Harry replied. “Thanks.”

“You’re quite welcome. The other thing I wanted to speak with you about was the loss of your friend and her family.” Dumbledore’s face saddened as he watched the light go out of Harry’s eyes. “I am so very sorry about what happened, Harry. We did have Order members in place near her home and the shop where you worked, suspecting Voldemort might attack either place because they’d been identified in the newspaper. We tried to protect them, Harry, we honestly did. Your warning came in good time, and we had the best people in place.”

Harry’s face was a study in tension as he tried to keep the tears filling his eyes from spilling. “Then what happened?”

Dumbledore sighed heavily, looking older than Harry had seen him in a long time. “Voldemort himself was there, and he had a large band of Death Eaters with him. They attacked on two fronts, and split our forces, then overwhelmed them. We lost several people that night.”

Harry’s eyes were huge in his ashen face. “Who?”

“Sturgis Podmore. Elphias Doge. Dedalus Diggle. Several others who you have not met. We nearly lost Nymphadora Tonks, but she managed to escape and call for reinforcements. By the time we had more people there, it was too late.”

“I’m so sorry. It’s my fault, all those deaths, all my fault, all my fault.” Harry was rocking in agony, his face on his knees, his hands pulling at his hair.

Dumbledore sat on the bed beside him and gently rubbed his back. “No, my dear boy, it is not your fault. You are not responsible for the evil in the hearts of Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters. You are one of their favourite targets, yes, that’s true, but so am I. It’s as much my fault as anyone else’s that those people died that night. We cannot blame ourselves for their loss, Harry. These people were fighting for good, fighting against the Dark forces, and by their own free will. They, like Sirius, died doing what they were meant to do, fighting for a just cause, doing what they could to protect innocent lives.”

“But the Death Eaters were after the Ashers because of me!” Harry cried. “They wouldn’t have gone after them if Casey. . .Casey. . . .” He sobbed, unable to speak further.

“They went after a lot of Muggle families that night, Harry, not just the Ashers. The other families attacked had no connection to you at all.”

“It’s still my fault. If I didn’t live in Little Whinging. . .”

“We don’t know that, but even if it were true, you cannot blame yourself. That’s a burden you must not bear, Harry.” He pulled the sobbing boy into an embrace and held him as he grieved. When he quieted, Dumbledore said, “I will think of something to help you, Harry. I just need to consider it for a while to decide what’s best. In the meantime, if you feel up to it, you should get dressed so we can go shopping.”

Harry rubbed his eyes and nodded. “OK. Thank you, Professor.”

“If there’s anything at all I can do to help you, Harry, just ask.” Dumbledore replied, patting the boy’s shoulder as he stood to leave.

“Oh, Professor,” Harry said quickly.

“Yes?”

“How’s Mrs. Weasley?” Harry’s face was anxious.

“She’s doing much better now. She should be home in a few days,” Dumbledore said with a reassuring smile.

Harry hesitated a moment. “I don’t know how to apologize to her and her family for what I did,” he said miserably.

“They all know you didn’t mean to do it, and not one of them is angry with you or blames you in any way,” Dumbledore said warmly. “You have very good friends in the Weasleys, Harry.”

Harry nodded. “I know. But after all they’ve done for me. . .” He didn’t know what else to say.

“They care about you, dear boy. Molly and Arthur were asking me how you were doing when I saw them last night. They’re quite concerned about you. You take good care of yourself - that will be the best way to repay them for all their kindnesses.” Dumbledore patted him on the shoulder again. “Now you’d better get dressed, if you want to go shopping today.”

“Yes, Professor. Thanks.”


* * * * *


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