Chapter 1: Forced into hiding

“I’m staying too,” said Hermione running into the Great Hall during breakfast. It was the 24th December, and most students had already made their Christmas arrangements. She waved a piece of parchment excitedly. “My parents say it’s Ok. They are going to an Orthodontic convention in Newcastle for a few days anyway.”

“That’s great Hermione,” Harry smiled. “Ron’s just got an owl and Mrs Weasley says he and Ginny can stay for Christmas too. I think everyone else is going home though, so we’ll probably have Gryffindor tower all to ourselves.”

Hermione nodded as she carefully lifted a runny fried egg onto her plate. “Everyone is getting ready to leave. I think Ginny’s just saying bye to Dean now.”

Harry looked over to Ron and saw him grip his spoon tightly. His face was also a little red, but he said nothing. Ron had been shocked to find out that Ginny was going out with Dean at the end of last year. Harry and Hermione heard almost nothing but abuse from Ron for the first few summer weeks. Even when they returned after the summer holidays Ron hadn’t spoken to Dean for a month. Harry had to agree though. He too, had been extremely surprised when he found out about Ginny’s current boyfriend.

“Hi Ginny,” said Hermione. Harry looked up to see Ginny walking over to their table, a tear trickling down her face. “What’s wrong?” Hermione asked sympathetically.

“We broke up. “ Ginny replied miserably. “It’s OK though, it wasn’t really working out; at least, not the way I’d hoped,” she added bravely. Contrary to her words, however, the tiny waterfall of tears did not stop flowing as she sat down next to Harry. She wiped the tears away silently and pulled her plate towards her. Harry wanted nothing more than to comfort Ginny. During his stay at The Burrow that summer, they had grown closer. He hated to see her crying like this. Slowly he slid along towards her, his mind racing and his breath quickening, wondering what he could say to cheer her up. He smiled shyly but suddenly Hermione had sat down and was hugging Ginny tightly. Harry sighed quietly and moved back to his seat.

"Ok. I say in order to cheer Ginny up, we should go to Hogsmeade," announced Ron, looking at his sister’s sad little face.

"That’s sweet Ron, but I am not sure that’s a good idea,” said Hermione gently.

"Why not?" protested Ron.

"You haven't read the paper yet, have you?" whispered Ginny, knowing full-well he wouldn’t have bothered.

"No," replied Ron. "Why? What’s going on?"

Hermione looked at Ginny, then at Harry and Ron. Harry was starting to get a little annoyed. He was unaware of what Hermione was keeping from them. Secretly, he had been quite looking forward to a day out with Ginny. She looked so miserable right now, though he didn't want to admit that feeling even to himself. He also remembered the pile of Potions homework waiting for him, and thought he would be glad for an excuse to put it off for another day.

"Ok, is someone going to explain what is going on?" asked Harry rather sharply.

Hermione looked up from the breakfast she’d been fiddling with. "It’s the Dementors, Harry." She spoke slowly, leaning towards them and lowering her voice, even though the hall was practically empty apart from them and a few teachers at their end table. "They have joined with Voldemort. It was in the papers today. I am not sure that we should leave the safety of the castle at a time like this."

Harry thought he saw a glint of fear in Ron's face. His friend recovered quickly, however, and pretended the news didn't bother him.

"Oh come on Hermione, the Dementors are not going to be in Hogsmeade!" said Ron. “Dumbledore would have said something if didn’t want us to leave.”

Her nose wrinkled for a moment while she thought. “I still don’t think we should go, we wouldn’t want to get in trouble.”

Ron simply rolled his eyes at this and sighed loudly.

“Besides,” Hermione added angrily, “I’m sure you have homework to be getting on with.”

“It’s Christmas Eve!” Ron argued.

“Come on Hermione. We should do something fun.” Harry said persuasively.

“Fine.” Hermione said pushing her plate away. “But I’m not going to be the one helping you with your Potions essay on the last day of the holidays!” She stood up and the bench scraped loudly on the stone floor.

“Meet back here in twenty minutes, Ok?” Harry shouted after her but he got no reply.


About twenty-five minutes later, all four Gryffindors had arrived back outside the Great Hall wrapped in their cloaks. The girls took the extra five minutes, of course. After checking themselves for money and mittens, with constant mutterings of “Women!” from Ron, they set off for Hogsmeade for what promised to be an enjoyable day.



Although there’d been a cloudless sky when they set off from Hogwarts, great blankets covered the sky as they strolled. It soon started to rain and the four hurried into the Three Broomsticks pub. Ron and Hermione went to the bar to order four Butterbeers, while Harry and Ginny went to find a table. They sat down in a corner booth next to a group of squabbling goblins and took off their cloaks. Harry was wondering if goblins ever participated in a polite conversation, when he noticed his hair was dripping wet and sticking up even more than usual. He tried to flatten it down, but it totally refused. Ginny smiled at Harry’s efforts and when he noticed, he stopped abruptly, feeling quite silly.

“So, I guess Ron will be able to stop worrying… now you and Dean have broken up, I mean,” Harry said desperately. He was merely trying to make conversation and distract Ginny from his dripping wet hair.

“Yeah,” she shrugged feeling a little annoyed at how insensitive he was being, considering they’d broken up less than an hour before. “I will date again though, I’m sure."

“Well yeah but it probably won’t be one of his friends again will it?” Harry replied. “I think that got to Ron a bit, the fact that it was his friend and his sister.”

Ginny smiled and raised one eyebrow cheekily. “Who I like isn't really Ron's concern, though, is it? Even if it is one of his friends.”

Harry gulped suddenly. He wondered if Ginny was suggesting that she still liked him. Hermione and Ron came over with the tray of Butterbeers, which they all drank greedily, and the conversation soon changed to the Dementors.

"So what do you think about all this?" said Ron turning to Harry who wiped all thoughts of Ginny from his mind. Harry would never want Ron to know he was thinking about his sister. He thought the news might send his protective friend over the edge.

"Erm," said Harry shaking his head "I don’t know. I know it isn't good news, but well... let's just not think about it right now. Hey! I really wanted to look in Quality Quidditch Supplies. Could we go there now?" he asked anxiously. He was feeling uncomfortable just talking about the Dementors.

"Yeah, sure," said Ron, gulping down the last of his drink. They slipped out of their booth, and began walking toward the door. On the way, Ron glanced across to Hermione (when Harry was looking the other way) and gave her a questioning look; she just shrugged, so they left the pub and set off towards Quality Quidditch Supplies.

Outside, it was surprisingly quiet. The weather was bad, but Hogsmeade was never usually this deserted. When they reached Quality Quidditch Supplies, a dried up piece of parchment had been plastered to the door. It was closed, and upon further inspection, so were all the other shops nearby.

“Wonder what’s goin’ on," mumbled Ron as they set off back to the castle.

“I bet everyone’s been scared by the Dementor warning,” Hermione answered as she pulled her cloak further up to protect herself against the rain. The rain was pouring down now in large soaking drops and they rushed down the path, back to the castle.

When they arrived at Hogwarts, they headed straight up to Gryffindor Tower. The fire was crackling away and they warmed up almost immediately. Ron sat down on the nearest chair to the fire and took off his cloak. He hung it on the gothic stone mantelpiece, hoping it would dry soon, and put his feet up on the tiny table in front of him. Harry sank lazily into the chair opposite and Ginny sat down cross-legged on the rug at Harry’s feet with a quill and parchment. It was so warm and cosy in the common room, Harry felt like dropping off. Hermione, however, grabbed her bag and went to sit at a desk on the other side of the room.

“Hey, come and sit with us Hermione.” Ginny shouted. “Ron will budge over for you,” she grinned mischievously. Ron went pink as he moved over and Hermione squished in next to him.

“Err . . . what are you reading?” Ron asked, all bunched up and looking uncomfortable.

Hermione looked up. “The Daily Prophet. I want to find out the latest news on these Dementors.”

“Oh, you’re not worried are you?” Ron asked peering over her shoulder at the pictures of swooping Dementors on the newspaper’s front cover.

“Well they’ve been sighted close by. I’m worried they might be looking…” she glanced up mid-sentence.

“-Looking for me,” Harry finished and Hermione nodded. Harry looked outside and was quite glad to see the sun had just managed to poke through the clouds. A dazzling sunset was preferable to beating rain any day. "It's stopped raining,” he said.

Ginny stood up, put the parchment she’d been doodling on in her pocket, and reached for her cloak. "Anyone fancy a walk around the grounds?" she looked to Ron, then Hermione and her eyes rested on Harry, she smiled.

“Sure,” Harry replied stretching.

“I’m coming too.” Ron said and Ginny passed the boys their cloaks.

“I think I’ll stay here,” Hermione said. “I’m reading this.”

“Oh come on!” Ron persuaded, grabbing her hand and pulling her up.

They walked down the steps and out on to the grounds, the sun was just setting and the sky was a glow of pinkish-orange, everything looked so peaceful. The four ambled companionably to the edge of the lake. It was a freezing cold evening and the sky was turning steadily darker, but they sat down, huddling together and chatting about Christmas presents and Quidditch.

Hermione squealed and jumped up as she felt something cold and wet hit the back of her neck and slide down her collar. She looked up and saw that snow was beginning to fall.

“A white Christmas!” Ginny cried happily and began dancing around, trying to make the others sing.

“Ginny’s singing isn’t that bad!” Ron laughed at the look on Harry’s face. “Hey are you Ok?”

“No, it’s my scar.” Harry winced screwing up his eyes. “It hasn’t hurt like this all year.”

Ginny’s voice died down and Hermione stood up, shivering and glancing around worriedly.

“Let’s go back to the castle,” she said quietly and the others nodded and stood up.

“Wait!” Harry said urgently. His eyes squinted into the darkness, where he saw thirteen silhouettes gliding over the lake towards them. He gasped suddenly. His scar burnt as though hot coals were being pressed to his forehead.

"What is it?" asked Ginny, fearfully following his gaze.

Harry recognised the foremost dark figure leading the others over the partially frozen lake. It was the person he dreaded and feared the most.

"Voldemort!" he replied- surprised for a moment that Ginny hadn't winced at the name but- he had no time to ponder this. "We have to get Dumbledore now!" he hissed urgently.

In his mind, Harry had replayed the moment where he had seen Voldemort back at the ministry- when Sirius died. He tried not to think of this as he saw- and more importantly, felt- a dozen Dementors gliding over the lake towards them. It felt as though icy cold water was being poured down his back. He grabbed his wand, and they started to edge away from the lake. They turned to run, but Harry fell to the ground in pain.

Suddenly, he heard a scream, but it was a distant memory: his mother. It was the Dementors that were doing this to him; forcing him to relive his worst memories. He tried to open his eyes, but the pain was too much and his body felt so weak. Just as suddenly, the screaming stopped and instead, Harry saw an image in his mind’s eye. He recognised it at once. It was an archway with a ratty curtain. He heard the screeching voice of Bellatrix Lestrange and saw Sirius falling back through the curtain. He’d dreamed this for months, but the memory seemed so real now, he wanted to help Sirius, he wasn’t dead, he couldn’t be! Harry yelled in anger and pulled himself upright.

He stared at the frozen lake, somehow Voldemort and the Dementors seemed to have vanished. Hermione pointed towards the castle and the others stared in that direction and saw Dumbledore, McGonagall and Snape racing towards them.

"Harry," said Dumbledore simply as he drew nearer.

"Voldemort," was all Harry could say.

"Yes, I know. Listen all of you; you must find a place to hide. Don't come out until we come to find you," he said calmly.

"But how will you find us if you don’t know where we are going?" said Harry quickly, feeling confused.

"We will find you,” said Dumbledore full of confidence. Harry had always trusted Dumbledore so he didn’t question his decision any further.

"What about the rest of the order?" asked Harry anxiously.

“They will be on their way,” said Dumbledore, understanding this must be difficult for him. It always seemed like Dumbledore knew how hard life was for Harry. Voldemort wanted him dead, and any time he’d got close or cared for anyone, he had that ripped away from him. He must have known how severely Sirius’s death had affected Harry, just a few months before.

“Go!” Dumbledore shouted.

Harry nodded and with that he led his friends away from the lake, racing over the grounds.

“Harry,” Ron gasped as he caught up, “the Shrieking Shack!” Harry nodded and pulled Ginny to the right towards the Whomping Willow and the passage that would lead them to the Shrieking Shack.

---

A/N: Thanks to AlexisTaylor for helping us get this story perfect. Please review and carry on reading the story when the other chapters are submitted.

Chapter 2: This wall that stands between us

“We can’t get past it!” Ginny shouted, looking up at the thrashing arms of the Whomping Willow.

Ron dashed forward and slid under the branches, touching the knot in the enormous tree’s bark. One branch inches away from Ron’s head stopped in midair. The tree was frozen and the others followed him down between the roots and into the underground tunnel that led to the Shrieking Shack. The pure blackness that greeted the group caught them off guard, no dusky moonlight shone down here. They groped around in the darkness, eventually found the tunnel wall and Harry set off in the lead, attempting to feel his way along the passage.

“This is just stupid. I know…” said Ron raising his wand. “Lumos!” The light cast four giant shadows on the dark stone and mud walls.

“No!” Hermione shouted anxiously pulling Ron’s wand down. “They’ll see the light,” she explained, pointing in the direction of the lake, Voldemort and the Dementors. “It could lead them right to us.”

“But we can’t see, Hermione!” Ron hissed exasperatedly.

“That’s too bright. We need to use something else.” Hermione said searching around.

“Candles?” came Ginny’s voice from somewhere behind them.

“Yeah candles, great idea.” Ron said sarcastically. “Look around Ginny, see any candles?”

“This’ll do.” Hermione bent down and picked up a small, smooth rock from the stony floor.

“Hermione, what are you gonna do? Rub two stones together and try and light yourself a little fire? Just use a wand, you’re not a Muggle!”

“Oh, shut up Ron.” Hermione sighed rolling her eyes at him. Carefully she took out her wand and they all stared in awe as she transfigured the rock into a burning candle. The tunnel lit up suddenly, far more gently than before.

“Wow. Where'd you learn that?” Ron gaped.

“A book,” Hermione answered irritably. “Maybe you should crack one open once in a while. Now, get a rock each and I’ll transfigure some more.” She turned to Harry, holding out the lit candle to him. She soon noticed how white his face was. “Don’t worry, it’s only like a blackout. The electrics at home are rubbish, we used to have them all the time,” she said trying to smile, but her worry of their situation wouldn’t let the smile last long.

Harry tried to return the attempt to comfort, but was getting annoyed, really. He wasn’t afraid of the dark, he was itching to carry on and get to safety in the Shrieking Shack. This was just wasting time.

“Aha! I’ve found a massive one.” Ron said yanking at a protruding rock high up in the tunnel wall.

Hermione ran over to warn him that if he pulled out that rock the whole tunnel could collapse but before she could say anything, there was a low rumbling and rubble began to fall. She grabbed Ron’s hand and they started to run, Harry and Ginny- a bit further along the tunnel- were running in the opposite direction. Hermione felt her wand slip and fall out of her hand. Then she heard a tiny crack as Ron stepped on it. She held up the candle to see Ron picking up the two jagged pieces of her wand.

"Ron!" Hermione stomped angrily. "Why are you so clumsy? You and your big feet! Look at my wand, it's-"

“Oh no!” Ron interrupted, grabbing the candle and showing her the wall of rubble that had appeared blocking the tunnel. “Look how much has fallen! How are we gonna get through all this?”

"Harry, Ginny!" Hermione screamed from one side of the wall. She held her breath, terrified, waiting for a response. What if one or both of them had been hurt -or even killed- by the falling rocks? Just as this crossed her mind, Ginny’s soft voice rang from the other side.

"Hermione?" she called lifting up her own candle to see how much rubble was separating them. "Hermione, me and Harry are here! We are fine! We got away from the rocks. Is Ron ok?"

Hermione breathed, relieved, and replied, "Yes! Unfortunately your brother is just fine!!"

"Hey!" Ron glared at her but Hermione ignored him and carried on.

"Ok, what are we going to do?" she asked over Ron’s grumbling complaints.

“We’ve gotta try and move it,” Harry replied. “You and Ron won’t be safe over there, Voldemort could find the way into the tunnel. I think we need to get to the Shrieking Shack!” He took out his wand and said clearly, “Reducto!”

There was a sudden blast and more rocks began to fall and Hermione yelled, “No, it’s too dangerous, we’ll have to do it by hand!”

The others agreed and from both sides they began scrabbling away at the rubble, clearing a space. A few minutes passed in silence before Harry heard a sharp intake of breath from Ginny on his right and looked up to see she’d cut her hand on a sharp rock.

“Are you Ok?” he asked coming over, consciously taking her hand by the very ends of her fingers and studying the cut. Ginny nodded. He looked up into her face, their eyes met for a second and she smiled at him.

“Aaah! Ron, are you trying to crush me to death?” came Hermione’s muffled, angry voice from the other side of the wall.

Harry dropped Ginny’s hand and called, “What’s happened?” glancing around uncomfortably.

“Stop getting in my way then!” he heard Ron say.

“This tunnel collapsing is all your fault and you’re just making it worse!” Hermione shouted back.

Bickering again, Harry thought irritably and continued moving the rubble. He heard another little scream and Ron’s voice yelling, “See? It’s not me! It’s them two pushing the rocks on us!”

“You’ll have to stop!” Hermione called to Harry and Ginny. “I’m afraid we’re just making more rubble fall.”

“Can’t you try blocking up your end of the tunnel?” Ginny asked.

“I guess,” came the reply.

Harry stood back waiting and heard more scrabbling of rocks on the other side of the wall separating them. He turned around, gazing further down the dark tunnel at the secret entrance to the Shrieking Shack, and felt his heart plummet southwards as his mind turned to Sirius.

“Not that a couple of rocks is going to keep Lord Voldemort and a dozen Dementors away.” Hermione said after a while; she flopped down on the floor and pulled her robes around her. “It’s pretty hopeless.”

“That’s right, look on the bright side Hermione. Maybe if you actually helped-“ but Ron was interrupted and the argument began again.

Harry was getting very annoyed. All his two best friends ever seemed to do was row over homework, lessons, their feelings, Harry’s feelings, anything! He looked around at Ginny who was obviously agitated too. She had her arms crossed leaning against the wall.

“If you two don’t stop arguing, we’ll leave you to do all the work!” Harry shouted but they didn’t stop.

“Will you please shut up and help us?” Ginny yelled from beside him.

There was silence for a moment and Harry thought it had worked, but no, the battle flared up again. “Right I’m going up to the Shrieking Shack!” he shouted and stomped off up the tunnel taking the candle with him. He could hear Ginny’s gentle breathing quicken and become sharper as he moved away from her. Knowing that she was too proud to admit she was frightened, he turned back to face her.

"Coming?" he asked trying to calm his voice. She stepped forward, nodding, and they slowly walked up towards the Shrieking Shack.

When they arrived in the black hallway, Harry paused and squinted through the darkness toward the open door, remembering how he and Hermione had come here in their third year to save Ron. Even then, he knew how much Hermione fancied Ron. It had been so obvious, he thought, even if she hadn’t realized it herself. However, Harry’s mind swiftly changed to Sirius.

Ginny saw the grief-stricken expression on his face. She gently squeezed his hand for support and took a step toward the first creaking wooden stair.

It broke Harry’s heart to know he was traveling up the stairs he had walked up a few years previously, when he had first met his godfather. He took a deep breath and slowly opened the door at the top of the staircase. As they entered the chamber, Ginny muttered an incantation, pointing her wand at each candle along the walls in turn. The soft glow, the musty smell and the memories were all that remained in the room. Harry remembered how he had been so filled with hatred for Sirius that he had actually come here planning to kill him, though he knew in his heart that he could never have done it.

"Sickle for your thoughts?" said a small voice beside him. Harry looked up from a crack in the dusty floorboards where he had been staring, lost in thought.

Ginny was stood very close to him, looking intently into his eyes as he glanced up. She felt as though she could almost lose herself in their mysterious, jade depths. He hides so much pain and misery behind those beautiful, green eyes, she thought while surveying the room, the image of Harry’s miserable face clear in her mind’s eye. He has such horror in his past. All I want to do is help him and stop him from hurting any more, but I can't. She bit her lip nervously.

"I was just thinking about when I first met Sirius here," said Harry his voice a little croaky. "I just miss him sometimes … he's the only family I had left,” he admitted.

Ginny nodded. Harry had confided in her a few weeks ago about missing Sirius and she knew how hard it had been for him. She stepped forward gingerly and wrapped her arms around his neck, holding him close.

Usually an awkward barrier stood between them, but now it seemed to have gone, Harry thought, and he didn't try to hide his emotions. Still, he hoped Ginny didn't notice the single tear fall from his eye and run down his cheek.

As he buried his face in her long auburn hair she comforted him in his time of need; when he felt the only people he could have turned to were either dead or would never understand. He was sure Ginny could never know how it felt to be him, but when he was with her, he had never felt more understood.

Feeling her pull away slightly, he smiled down at her, his eyes never leaving hers, then before either of them realized what was happening, Ginny leaned in and kissed Harry, and he kissed her back.

---

“I hope they're ok.” Ron said, sliding down on to the dry earth floor surveying the tunnel. It seemed they’d have to stay here now until Dumbledore came to find them, which could be ages yet.

“It’ll be safer for Harry in the Shrieking Shack and he’ll look after Ginny.” Hermione replied plainly.

“Hmmm” muttered Ron distractedly sneaking a glimpse at Hermione. “Hey, it’s Christmas Eve! Oh Merlin, we are gonna be stuck here on Christmas day!” He shoved his hands in his pockets grumpily but then slowly withdrew his right hand clutching a silver chain. Seeing Hermione’s curious expression he hid the chain back in his robe pocket, it was too late though, she’d spotted it and was asking inquisitively about it.

“It’s erm…” Ron racked his brain for an answer but nothing sprang to mind. “Well, it’s…”

After another few moments, frantically searching for a believable lie, he gave in. Almost inaudibly he said, “It’s your Christmas present. I, er…haven’t had a chance to wrap it yet.”

“For me?” Hermione asked. Ron nodded but continued staring intently at the ground.

“Can I see it?” she smiled and saw Ron’s ears turning red with embarrassment as he nodded again.

She crept over and sat down beside him, took the little silver necklace from his hand and studied it, beaming. It had Hermione spelt out in tiny, dazzling turquoise letters and there was a tiny, silver clasp. She had to admit she was surprised, last Christmas Ron had obviously thought very hard and bought her perfume but it had, well, a slightly unusual smell. She looked back down at the necklace it was so pretty and perfect - she loved it.

“It’s beautiful,” Hermione breathed. “Would you, er … put it on for me?”

“Ok.” Ron replied, turning redder by the second. He took the necklace from Hermione and moved behind her. He put it carefully around her neck and fastened it at the back. It took a while because the clasp was fiddly and his hands seemed unusually sweaty and slippery. He could hear his breathing quicken and tried to slow it down but now it was uncontrollably loud!

Hermione turned to face him with a small smile on her face, as she looked him in the eye.
“I really love it Ron, thank you.” she said interrupting his trail of thought and she hugged him tightly.

For a few moments Ron’s arms hung limply at his sides but slowly he moved closer and hugged her back. A real hug, Hermione thought, they’d never really hugged before. How odd, they’d been friends for so long. She leant her head on his shoulder and smiled.

Chapter 3: Moonlight revelations and memories revealed

Harry looked at Ginny, at her shining eyes and perfect, happy, smile and a smile came to his face too. He lifted up one nervously shivering hand and brushed a few auburn strands away from her face. All of a sudden, something glittering under the broken old piano in the corner of the dull room caught his eye, something he hadn’t noticed before.

He pulled away from her, strode across the room and slid his hand under the old broken piano. He could no longer see the shimmering object. He searched about, but there was only dim candles lighting the room and there was so much dust he almost sneezed. Just as he was about to give up hope, and put the sparkle down to his imagination after a stressful evening, he saw it twinkling again; he bent down even further to have a look and carefully picked it up and turned it over.

He gently blew away the dust that was clinging to it, and saw that it was a ring made of white gold with 3 tiny diamonds; simple yet so beautiful. On the inside, there was something engraved in a fancy scrawl, but it was very difficult to make out. He rubbed his glasses and the ring on his robes and looked again. Ginny took a candle from one of the brackets on the wall and came over; now Harry could see that written on the inside of the ring was a tiny L & J.

“What is it?” Ginny asked quietly. “A ring?”

Harry simply nodded, then started scrabbling at something else on the floor. He picked up whatever it was- it looked like a shiny piece of parchment- and he sat on the hard floor blinking, incredulously, at what he held in his hands.

“Can I see?” Ginny asked, seating herself carefully on the floor beside him. Harry didn’t respond; his eyes stayed fixed on the photograph gripped tight in his hands.

Ginny pulled the candle closer to them so she could see the photo properly. One corner was ripped, and it had obviously gotten wet sometime before, but, nevertheless, she could see the picture quite well.

It showed three friends on a summer’s day. The beautiful girl was holding hands with a young scruffy-haired man; Ginny guessed they were both in their early twenties. He had his head turned away as he played with the girl’s long red hair. Next to them was another young man stretching out on the grass; he brushed his shoulder-length dark hair away from his faceas he smiled and winked at the camera. He whispered something to the scruffy-haired man who smiled aswell. The couple dropped hands and the young man reached into his pocket. When he looked up, Ginny immediately realised who it was, although she’d never actually seen him before. He looked into the girl’s eyes and Ginny could see the young man begin to talk, as he did words appeared along the bottom of the photograph:

I’ve loved you since the day we met,

More than you’ll ever know.

When you hold my hand I feel safe and warm,

I never want to let go.

The first night that we danced together

Stars twinkled in your eyes.

I knew one day I’d be doing this;

My love knows no disguise.

I’d risk my life a hundred times

Just to hear you sing.

You’ve stolen my heart, and it’s forever yours;

You’re my soul mate, my best friend, my everything.

Each morning I wake I think of you

And the sun begins to shine.

Lily, I will love you for all time,

Will you be forever mine?

He handed her a tiny, silver box and inside was a white gold ring- the one Harry was now clasping tightly. The girl smiled as he slipped the ring onto her finger and she threw her arms around him lovingly.

“My mum and Dad,” Harry said quietly. The photograph faded and the story began to replay again.

Carefully Ginny put her hand on his shoulder to comfort him, however Harry got up and moved away from the piano, as he wiped his shining eyes angrily.

Ginny watched him flop down heavily on the four-poster bed. She didn’t want to make him more upset, but she didn’t know what else to do, so she walked over and sat down beside him, watching the bewitched photograph retell it’s story. After a few moments a tear fell from Harry’s watery eyes, but before he could brush it roughly off his cheek Ginny took his hand in hers and held it tight.

Together they watched the story again and again, until Harry felt he could have recited the words replaying along the bottom, off by heart. Still, every time felt precious, and each time the photo’s story faded and finished he wanted to see it again. To see his mother’s sweet, happy smile one more time, his fathers gazing at the woman he loved, Sirius so full of fun and life again, the three carefree friends together.

Ginny kept tight hold of Harry’s hand the whole time and watched the story with him until her eyelids began to droop; she rested her head on his shoulder and felt herself falling softly to sleep.

Harry’s eyes never left the photograph, but he kept hold of Ginny’s hand and let his tears fall freely, now that she could not see him.

***
Back on the other side of the wall, Ron and Hermione were standing in each other’s arms; Hermione’s head was pillowed on Ron’s chest as she listened to the steady beating of his heart. She didn’t want to leave his warm embrace.

"Hermione?' he whispered, his breath tickling her ear.

"Yes?" she replied.

"You know that, I, erm, care for you a lot and… well, I have for a long time.” He bit the side of his cheek as he glanced around. “I just haven't been able to tell you and … I understand if you don't feel the same way,” Ron hurried the last part and blushed.

Hermione didn't know what to say; she breathed deeply, let go of Ron and walked over to the other side of the tunnel. Moonlight poured through a gap in the rocks they had tried to build up at the entrance and made the tears rolling down her face glisten softly. She had liked Ron for so long, and he had just admitted how much he liked her, why couldn't she just come out and tell him that she felt the same way? She knew she was holding back for a reason and she couldn’t quite bring herself to share her feelings.

"Hermione?" he whispered; his voice was shaky and concerned, but this only hurt Hermione more. "What’s the matter? What did I say wrong?"

"Nothing, well, it’s just … you know how much we argue, well, imagine if we were together, if we had a big fight and we broke up!” She shook her head slightly and looked up into his eyes. “I would lose you, one of my best friends, I don't think I could take that.” she stuttered.

"Who says that we will argue? Maybe things will change if we are together, we won’t know unless we try it, will we?" he answered calmly.

She slowly turned to face him, biting her lip, a tiny wrinkle of concern between her eyebrows. She felt helpless and more vulnerable and scared than ever before, especially in the presence of Ron, who had always made her feel so safe.

After a long pause she spoke, "There’s too much at stake; I mean what about Harry?”

"What? Who cares about Harry? This is about you and me.” Ron moved closer to her and saw mistrust and fear lay behind her sparkling brown eyes.

"You don't trust me," he realised slowly feeling sadness wash over him. He leant back on the wall behind him and surveyed his feet.

"I want to Ron, I do, but I just don’t know what to do,” Hermione said truthfully, her eyes pleading.

Ron looked up at her and tried to smile. "Trust me. It’ll be fine"

"But this is all too soon,” she insisted.

"Too soon? Hermione! I think six years is long enough.”

"Six years? You have felt this way for six years?" she murmured.

"Yes," he whispered looking down at the moonlight streaked floor.

She opened her mouth to reply, but Ron interrupted. "I’m not going to force you to do anything you don't want to. If you’re not sure then I understand-”

Though he didn't get to finish what he said as Hermione leaned in and kissed him.

As her lips met his she heard footsteps approaching from behind her. She could tell he’d heard it too and she gazed around worriedly.

Ron fished out his wand and muttered “Lumos” so he could see better, then surveyed the passage for any sign of danger. He heard Hermione gasp and turned around as a thin hooded figure slipped down silently into the tunnel. The moonlight, which before had shone softly, lighting up Hermione’s face, now reflected cruelly in Lord Voldemort’s red, bloodshot eyes.

From the end of one sleeve that drooped around his skinny arms emerged a long, pale hand. He stretched his fingers and Ron felt Hermione stiffen beside him.

Voldemort drew her towards him as easily as though he was controlling a puppet. Gasping for air, she could not scream. She had no defence as her arms were pinned to her sides and her feet dragged helplessly on the floor.

When Hermione reached the place where Voldemort towered, he caught her face in his outstretched hands. His skin was bitter cold, and it stung her tear-stained cheeks.

“Mudblood!” he spat at her. “Tell me where your friend is.”

Hermione closed her eyes, and tried to wriggle out of his grasp but he grabbed her robes, pulling her closer, and grip around her face tightened.

Inside her head she heard his chilling voice. “Tell me, you know where he is!” Her mind was blank apart from the echoing voice. .“Fine, I shall find out myself!” It shouted inside her.

Her eyes were forced open, and she was staring straight into his for an instant. Close up she could see his eyes were filled with an unimaginable hatred, and his pupils were small and dark; no reflection danced there.

Hermione scrunched up her own eyes, and suddenly she saw herself racing down the dark tunnel, passing easily through the wall of rubble and up the steps into the Shrieking Shack. She sped through the black hallway, and up the flight of stairs to the room where they had found Sirius and Ron a few years before.

“Petrificus Totalus!” came Ron’s voice from somewhere far below.

Immediately, she felt an enormous lurch in her stomach, as though she was being thrown backwards, and she opened her eyes to find herself huddled on the floor, shivering in fright.

Voldemort had his wand pointed at Ron, who was dangling upside down in midair, apparently unconcious. Hermione was strongly reminded of the Quidditch World Cup, where a family of muggles had been levitated and paraded around the camp by Death Eaters.

Although her hand shook violently, Hermione reached for her wand, before remembering it had been broken in two. Ron’s face was now white and Hermione was sure she had to act fast so, without thinking, she picked up the biggest rock she could reach and threw it at Voldemort. Surprisingly, it hit him right on the side of his head. Hermione gasped in shock, as he was knocked off balance and Ron fell to the ground.

“You foolish girl!” Voldemort yelled, rounding on her.

Hermione attempted to run straight past him to where Ron lay in a heap, but Voldemort had already raised his wand. Again, she felt as though she was bound by insvisible ropes. With a swish of his hand, he threw her at the tunnel wall, where she hit her head violently and blacked out, landing beside Ron.

"Ginny?”

Slowly she opened her eyes and dragged herself upright. Everything was dark.

“Harry? Where are you?” Ginny asked.

There was a loud crack and she span around in fright, breathing heavily. She searched around but she couldn’t see anything in the black room.

“What was that?” she gasped in a panicky voice, but no one was answering her.

There was a tug on her cloak sleeve as a hand closed around it and she breathed a sigh of relief, knowing she wasn’t alone. “Harry? What’s going on?” she whispered to the dark figure beside her.

Suddenly, she heard another crack, then the sound of rushing wind all around her and then there was silence. She could no longer hear the familiar, gentle creaking of the Shrieking Shack or the rustling of leaves in trees. Nothing.

Ginny found herself on the ground; she scrambled on to her knees, and surveyed the surroundings. Her hair was windswept across her face, and the stony ground was cold beneath her. She shivered.

She was kneeling in the centre of a circular platform that must have been raised 100 ft off the ground. She could see for miles around but the landscape was empty, a desolate wasteland. Encircling the platform were piles of meaningless rubble and jagged stones, and Ginny could see that they had once been proud pillars and archways of a castle turret.

“The fire is almost ready master,” an apprehensive female voice said from somewhere around her. Her senses were confused, but she remembered the voice- it was a voice that she had heard once before, in the department of mysteries. Last time it had been cold and patronizing, though now it sounded afraid. She turned slowly and saw that Bellatrix Lestrange was knelt beside an enormous leather-bound book, kindling a fire.

“Excellent Bella, your help will not go un-rewarded.” Voldemort hissed from behind Ginny.

He gripped her shoulder and pulled her onto her feet to face him. As he withdrew his wand from his robes, Ginny cowered.

“Imperio!” Voldemort shouted and immediately the world around her was forgotten. Her fear evaporated and she felt more calm and relaxed than ever before. She smiled happily at Bellatrix, apparently unaware of her mortal danger.

“Walk towards the fire,” said a voice far inside Ginny’s head. It was a place never before awakened. Without questioning she did as she was told and walked to the fire as Bellatrix stood up and consulted the great spell book.

“Pick up the knife,” said the voice, she looked down and there was a silver knife with the dark mark branded in black onto the handle. Again she obeyed the voice and picked up the knife, which was cold in her hand.

“Slit your wrist.”

Ginny’s hand shook and the knife hovered above her arm, as a tiny voice from deep within her whispered “No, don’t!”

“Slit your wrist!” said the voice more forcefully. Ginny obeyed the command. Her face remained blank as she completed the painful and sickening task. She let her blood drip into the fire, as she knew that was what the voice wanted her to do. She couldn’t fight it.

As she held her arm out above the flames and let her blood trickle down words flowed out of her mouth uncontrollably and she began to chant along with the voice inside her mind.

“Over scarlet flames, I wilfully spill my blood this night
As the blood drop by drop falls, the flames will turn to white
My life will end, as will his, I’m sacrificed with this knife.
The serpent rising from the embers will take my lover’s life.”

As Ginny stared into the rising heat and white smoke the fire was creating, she saw a shape begin to emerge. At first it was just a faint circle, but it became steadily clearer and soon a face could be seen. It was a boy’s face- messy hair, glasses and a prominent scar.

As realisation of the chant’s meaning suddenly dawned on Ginny, tears began to roll down her face, but her eyes remained fixed on the smoky image of Harry’s. She tried and tried to stop the chant, to shut her mouth, to shut her eyes, but it was no use.

From the fire, a twisting serpent of smoke began to grow. It writhed around, leaving a visible, smoky white trail wherever it moved. It danced above the licking flames, until, with one vicious action, it bit the hazy white image of Harry. As if it was real, the smoky picture reacted. Harry’s mouth opened in a mute scream and his white eyes were filled with unbearable pain. Immediately the face began to fade and sink back into the fire, however, the serpent slowly materialised into a real pearly-white ashwinder.

Ginny had heard of ashwinders, they were created from magical fires and she knew that their eggs were powerful ingredients in love potions, but could also set a house alight if they weren’t found and frozen. However, ashwinders were usually grey with red-eyes; therefore she was unsure if that’s what this snake-like creature was. It was a shimmering white with powerful green eyes and it danced and hissed in front of the fire.

As Ginny watched the serpent the voice began to speak again. “Pick up the powder.” She noticed a pot of powder beside her and did as she was told.

“Throw it in the fire,” the voice said. Ginny grabbed a handful and threw it onto the flames. From smoky white, the flames turned to a familiar bright green.

"Go to him. Go to him," the voice started to chant and strange hissing noises slid out of her mouth in place of words. She shook her head in confusion but couldn’t stop the flow of parseltongue. The snake, at once, seemed transfixed by her and it moved in the flames in time to the chant, as though charmed.

That little voice inside her, distant and barely loud enough for her to make out, was desperately whispering "No! Stop!"

"Go to h-" she broke off, panting as if she had just been trapped, deprived of air and then released. The serpent stopped and stared up at Ginny, both of them momentarily freed from the charm commanding them.

"Imperio!" Voldemort shouted, seeing that Ginny was breaking free and fighting the curse but she dodged.

Her mind was spinning. Where was she? What was happening? She felt a terrible pain in her wrist and saw an enormous gash and her blood soaked robes. She felt light headed and her heartbeat began to race as she panicked. Harry! She thought. He’s in danger.

”Imperio!" Voldemort repeated and that time it caught her. For a second her mind went blank and an ocean of calm flooded her head, then the voice returned, colder and angrier than before.

”Walk back to the fire,” the voice hissed. Ginny tried to resist now, but he was too strong and she felt her legs obeying the command. Her thoughts were invaded and she was taken over with chanting again.

The flashing green flames before her seemed to twist and curl into shapes and a thought appeared in her mind again: Harry. His face had been in the fire and that serpent had bitten him, killed him! Harry! Harry!

Suddenly, she noticed another face growing in the fire. An old, kind face, but it looked worried. The shining eyes searched frantically until they saw the red-haired girl.

Ginny stared at Albus Dumbledore’s head floating in the flickering flames. He opened his mouth and started to speak but Ginny could not hear his words over her own chanting. She tried to stop but she couldn't close her mouth. Slowly, a hand appeared in the green flames, it reached out to her waiting for her to take it.

Inside Ginny’s head two voices shouted: the harsh controlling voice and her own, which was growing stronger by the second.

She stumbled forwards, groping for Dumbledore’s hand, but she couldn’t concentrate, she couldn’t see properly, everything was blurred.

“Master! In the fire, look!” Bellatrix screeched and Ginny was shaken to her senses for a second. She was lying on the floor and she could hear the witch running towards her. She was drained of energy, but she crawled forwards across the floor, reaching for the hand and grabbed it.

Dumbledore pulled her into the fire and almost out the other side into a fireplace. She could see Harry anxiously stood by the fireside in the bedroom of the Shrieking Shack. She was almost in the room when…

“Ahhh!” She screamed as a tight grip closed around her ankle painfully. Bellatrix Lestrange was dragging her backwards through the fire. Then Ginny felt the cold ground of the castle turret beneath her again and her knees and ribs scraped across the stone as she was pulled backwards on her front.

She kicked at Bellatrix and tried to free her foot when she felt a terrible pain in her ankle. For a moment the grip loosened and Ginny crawled to the fire, took the headmaster’s outstretched hand and fell into the grate of the fire.

Dumbledore shouted an enchantment at the fire and the magical green flames immediately disappeared. Then he bent down to Ginny who was being helped up of the floor of the bedroom, and said “You are safe now, Miss Weasley. I am sorry but I must leave you for the time being, I must find my other students. I trust Harry will look after you for a few minutes.”

Dumbledore’s face was almost unreadable. At a glance, Ginny thought she saw pure hatred and anger but if she’d been able to look more closely, before he disapparated, she would’ve seen his shining blue eyes also showed guilt, worry and fear.

“Ginny, I… Are you Ok?” Harry asked, his hands shook as he tried to help her stand. Ginny winced as she put weight on her ankle, but Harry helped her gently across the room and she collapsed onto the bed.

“Harry! There’s a snake! It’s going to kill you!” Ginny shouted as she suddenly remembered what had happened. It all came flooding back to her with stunning clarity; she had to do something before it was too late.

“No, it’s Ok. We’re safe now.” Harry assured her, although his heart was still thundering inside his chest.

“What’s going on?” she asked breaking into tears and searching Harry’s face for an answer. Harry paused for a few seconds and sat down then said, “Voldemort kidnapped you.”

“I know that!” Ginny cried.

Harry was shocked for a second at her outburst, before he began to explain. “All I know is what Dumbledore thinks happened. He said Voldemort took you so he could use you for an ancient spell to kill me. For it to work he needed you to… to sacrifice yourself.” He stopped. He realised how much it scared him that Ginny had almost died. Much more than the fact that he had narrowly escaped death too.

“Why me?” Ginny sobbed quietly.

Harry was slightly unsure of what to say, he didn’t really know either. “Dumbledore said that the spell sort of counter-acted against the love of my mother. Voldemort was using love to kill me. Your love for me.”

Ginny looked up at him in confusion and Harry shrugged. “I don’t really know how,” he said.

The two sat in silence for a few moments while Harry tried to understand what Dumbledore had told him, it didn’t make sense.

All the while Ginny’s breathing was quickening and she began to feel dizzy. Suddenly, she couldn’t see properly. She tried to wipe her eyes and immediately gasped. Harry looked over and saw Ginny’s bloodstained robes; he quickly pulled back her sleeve and saw her slashed wrist.

“Oh Merlin! What the hell happened?” he shouted.

“He…” Ginny couldn’t breath properly and she couldn’t focus on what she was trying to say. “He… made me…”

“Ginny!” Harry yelled shaking her, but she slumped in his arms like a lifeless doll.

“Ginny?” he shouted hugging her tightly. Tears of worry and fear filled his eyes as he clung onto her desperately. “Ginny, wake up!”

He searched around the room for anything that could possibly help- there was nothing. “

Please, Ginny! Wake up!” he cried. He pulled her onto the bed and ran to the door of the bedroom, his mind racing all the time. He raced across the landing and down the creaking stairs to the place where the tunnel back to Hogwarts started.

“Professor! Professor Dumbledore!” he yelled. “Ron! Hermione! Anyone, please!”

Stumbling, he hurried down the steps shouting all the time. His legs quivered underneath him until he tripped and fell down a few hard stone steps.

He lay in an injured heap crying out helplessly. Nobody was coming.

There was nothing else he could do; he decided he had to return to Ginny. He struggled back the way he’d come and raced into the bedroom to find the red-haired girl still sprawled out on the bed. He ripped some of the sheets of the bed and tried to wrap them round her wrist to stem the flow, it helped, but not much.

“I don’t know what else to do!” he cried. He felt as though he had failed. This was all because of him. It was his fault she had been taken, his fault she had been forced to slit her wrists and now she lay dying and he couldn’t help.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry!” he whispered as he lay next to her and clutched her limp body to him, trying to hold the bloodstained sheets in place. He knew that she was slipping away. He was so scared.

Desperately, he tried to keep her freezing body warm by hugging her closer, but as he cried he knew he couldn’t help her.

Chapter 5: The Darkest Hour is Just Before Dawn

Hermione woke up suddenly, shivering. The ground beneath her was stony and hard and her weight was crushing her right arm. She had to move but she was scared that he might still be there. Her mind flashed back to those merciless, red eyes boring into her own and she felt a trickle of cold sweat tracing her spine. Slowly, she moved her head an inch or so and glanced around cautiously: no one in sight. She sighed quietly and tried to sit up. An immediate pain hit the side of her head and she almost cried out, but she stopped herself in time; she knew he could still be close.

She glanced around the dark tunnel again, searching for Ron, and saw him, scrunched against the far wall. We have to get out she thought to herself and, despite the throbbing pain in her head, she crawled silently towards the unconscious boy.

“Ron,” she whispered. “Ron.” Her hands shook as she nudged him gently; he didn’t wake up. “Ron!” she repeated, more urgently this time and she shook his shoulder hard.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps echoing down the long passage way. She sat bolt upright and stared around. In the darkness she couldn’t see very far, but she could hear somebody coming closer.

“Ron please!” she whispered anxiously and shook him until she heard a movement right behind her and whipped around.

Her heart was beating so fast and something was crashing around inside her skull so painfully. “No!” she tried to shout, but her voice caught in her throat.

In a moment of straight thinking she reached inside her robe pocket for her wand, however all she found was two helpless broken pieces.

Now she could make out the tall, thin figure approaching and she had nothing to do but huddle closer to Ron, shivering and terrified.

“Hermione,” said a gentle voice and she looked up, still shaking in fear.

“Professor?”

Albus Dumbledore nodded and muttered “Lumos”, instantly lighting the tunnel. As soon as Hermione saw the headmaster’s kind old face she burst into tears. She held her head in her hands and wept uncontrollably.

“I…I thought you were…” she cried.

“I’m sorry,” he said quietly then straightened up. “Is that Mr Weasley?” he asked and Hermione nodded.

"I have been trying to wake him sir. I don’t know what has happened to him.”

“Don’t worry Ms Granger, I am sure Madame Pomfrey will be able to sort him out, if the worst comes to the worst. But,” he glanced at Ron’s unconscious form, “I think I may be able to wake him myself."

The professor removed his wand from his robes in one quick, smooth action and hovered it over Ron’s body. Hermione watched silently; she was torn between worry and interest.

Dumbledore pointed his wand at the floor and a small bottle appeared. It was a clear glass bottle with a cork stopper, filled with a translucent amber liquid. He gestured to the potion and Hermione reached forwards and handed it to him. Carefully, Dumbledore lifted Ron’s head and poured the bottle’s contents down his throat.

Immediately Ron began to stir. He opened his eyes and swept the red hair off his face.

“What… What’s going on?” he whispered in a hoarse voice. “Hermione?”

“Can you stand?” Dumbledore asked surveying the pair through his spectacles. Ron and Hermione struggled to their feet and nodded.

“Get back to Hogwarts and go straight to the hospital wing. I’ll be there when you arrive.” Dumbledore said and with a swift nod he disapparated.

“Ron, will you light your wand?” Hermione asked after a few moments. Ron nodded and whispered “Lumos”

“What’s wrong?” she asked gently touching his arm.

Ron flinched. “Nothing,” he muttered.

“What is it?”

“Where are Harry and Ginny?” he asked quietly.

“Well, they went to the Shrieking Shack…” she began shakily.

“What happened?” Ron frowned.

“Ginny…” she sighed and then continued quickly. “Ginny was taken by Voldemort”

“Ginny? What? Why?”

“Voldemort used her to do an ancient spell called Pereda Venenum. I’ve read about it before. Voldemort had Ginny under the Imperius curse and he used her to try and kill Harry.”

“What?" Ron barked as he stopped abruptly and turned to Hermione. He grabbed her by the shoulders and asked, "What happened? Is she ok?"

Without waiting for an answer he started to run back and make his way back down the dark passageway to the Shrieking Shack.

"No!" Hermione yelled. "Ron come back! There’s nothing we can do!” she panted running after him. “You know I am just as worried about Harry and Ginny as you are, but we are both weak and we would be of no use. Besides, Dumbledore is there!" she finished as if that changed everything.

"Oh Dumbledore! Oh well that makes everything ok then! Dumbledore didn’t stop Voldemort from taking her did he? This is my sister’s life we are talking about here and I am not about to take any chances!"

"Please Ron!" Hermione pleaded blocking his way. "We have to go back to the castle. There's nothing more we can do!" She looked up at him with frightened, exhausted eyes. "Please Ron."

He closed his eyes took a deep breath and nodded. He knew she was right. Of course she was, but he didn’t want to leave just like that when anything could have happened to Ginny.

Hermione’s eyes were beginning to water, she was so worried about her friends but she knew that they should do what the Headmaster said. “Lets go,” she whispered.

“Ok,” Ron replied. He put a reassuring arm around her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her and then quickly pulled away but Hermione moved closer into him and leant momentarily on his chest before grabbing his hand and pulling him down the tunnel silently.

***

“Please, Mr Potter!” a woman muttered angrily.

Hermione opened her eyes and saw Madame Pomfrey’s round face poking out from behind a curtain, glaring at Harry who was pacing loudly up and down the Hospital Wing. Beside her, Ron was snoring contentedly.

When Ron and Hermione had stumbled exhaustedly up to the castle, hand in hand, a few hours earlier, they had been ushered inside by a frantic, tearful Professor McGonagall, forced to swallow a purplish sleeping potion and pushed into bed.

Hermione had caught a glimpse of the Headmaster talking in a low voice to Harry, but her eyes had refused to stay open a moment longer and she had fallen asleep.

Now, Hermione shifted uncomfortably in the hospital bed and watched Harry who carried on walking the length of the Hospital Wing, fiddling with something small and shiny in his left hand. She was undoubtedly worried about Ginny but she didn’t know how serious it was.

Harry had watched helplessly as Ginny’s limp body was levitated, by the headmaster, into the Hospital Wing. He had rushed to her bedside but the curtains were closed around her bed and only Madame Pomfrey was allowed inside. His heart, which had been beating wildly with fear in the Shrieking Shack, now felt as though it had slowed to a stop. He had no idea how long he had been pacing worriedly, twiddling the silver ring in his fingers and staring at the white tiles on the ground.

Dumbledore was sat at the far side of the ward, by the large oak doors, with his chin rested on the tips of his fingers; Professor McGonagall sat beside him, scratching out a letter to Mr and Mrs Weasley with an old quill and a piece of tearstained parchment; Hermione and Ron lay in two beds beside each other and Madame Pomfrey busied herself with potions and books behind the curtains of Ginny’s bed.

“Professor Dumbledore,” said Snape hurrying into the ward. “I have just returned from the Ministry, they are deciding now how to tackle the Dementors. Fudge requests to talk to you.”

The old man shook his head tiredly. “I will speak with him later Severus.”

“How is the girl?” Snape asked quietly, leaning down to the Headmaster.

Harry glared at Snape. How dare he call her “girl”? He knew perfectly well who she was! Nevertheless, Harry moved closer to overhear Dumbledore’s reply.

“I am hoping she will recover fully, but she is not yet stable.” Professor Dumbledore looked up at the Potions master hovering above him. The headmaster looked exhausted and worried, almost desperate and when he spoke again it was in a whisper to nobody in particular. “This never should have happened.”

By now Harry had, without realising, stopped his pacing up and down the ward so he could hear the conversation easily. Dumbledore seemed to have noticed this and he cleared his throat and beckoned to Harry.

“I feel there is much for me to explain,” he said wearily resting his chin on his fingertips once more.

“Is it wise to tell the boy, Professor?” Snape asked coldly.

Dumbledore nodded and gestured to a chair in front of him and Harry sat down. He surveyed the boy he’d gotten to know and love over the past few years. The Boy Who Lived, the boy who’d overcome so many trials, where he would have been expected to fall; he had grown so much. As Dumbledore observed his pupil he sighed, it was time again to add another burden to Harry’s already overloaded shoulders.

“Pereda Envenom-” he began slowly, “the spell Voldemort used to try and kill you last night. This spell is ancient magic and rarely ever attempted as the feelings and emotions involved for the spell to work are not often trusted to be strong enough.”

Dumbledore looked up waiting for a reply, but Harry, who was staring at the ground, scuffing the floor with one dirty trainer, wasn’t taking much in. As the headmaster watched, he realised that although the scruffy-haired boy had grown, he was still just that: a boy. He should be eagerly opening his Christmas presents under the enchanted tree in the Gryffindor common room and laughing with his friends, instead of choking on tears in the hospital wing as he waited to find out whether his friend, the girl he loved, would survive the night.

“Potter!” Snape said angrily. “Learn some manners and answer the Professor!”

“He is in shock, Severus, he is scared!” McGonagall hissed advancing on him.

“There is no excuse for his arrogance Minerva. You may forgive Potter’s attitude,” Snape sneered, “but I will not overlook his cheek.”

For a moment Professor McGonagall seemed shocked but she quickly rose to her full height and, fixing Snape with a glare almost sharp enough to shatter the spectacles balancing on her nose, asked “Do you have any idea what spell was used on Miss Weasley tonight?”

“Pereda Envenom,” Snape muttered instantly, glaring back, “but I don’t understand what -”

“The fact that this spell worked proves something!” McGonagall interrupted coolly, however Harry could see her hands quivering with rage. “It proves love between Mr Potter and Miss Weasley strong enough to kill Harry, strong enough to overcome the protection left by his mother’s sacrifice! And you… you stand there reprimanding him for his cheek when this girl, his truelove according to the spell, is on the edge of life!” Her voice had been growing steadily louder and higher and she stopped and paused for breath before continuing in a poisonous whisper. “It seems that what you don’t understand is love, Severus. It is an empty heart that beats inside you… in that way you are just like Voldemort.”

Just a few hours before Harry would have laughed out loud if he had seen Snape looking like he did now. From a furious red, Snape’s face had drained to a ghostly white, his mouth was moving silently as he tried to find words to retaliate and his eyes were filled with humiliation and hatred.

“This boy has cost lives!” he shouted pointing at Harry. “He should have been expelled twenty times, but still you keep him here, endangering us all, putting his life above all others!” he turned to Dumbledore visibly shaking. “You’re right, this never should have happened, but even this time you will be foolish enough to let the incident pass!” Now he turned to Professor McGonagall, “Love? It’s because of him the girl is almost dead!”

Suddenly Harry was on his feet, wand out, his vision blurred by cascades of anger and fear. He had intended on hexing Snape every way he knew how, except now he could see no point in it.

Instead he ran, shoving the heavy oak doors open, out into the entrance hall and then down the steps into the Hogwarts grounds. Without deciding where he was going he started to run down the path he had taken the morning before to Hogsmeade, all the while trying to shut out The words Snape had just shouted when in his heart he knew every word was true. He was right, he couldn’t stay at Hogwarts, he couldn’t put everyone in danger again.

He stopped on the steps beneath the big clock on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, barely registering how deserted the area was, as the wind blew across his face drying the tears he couldn't control, rolling slowly down his cheeks. He didn't think, even in some of his hardest hours of despair and misery; he had ever felt quite this alone. It chilled him to his very bone that Ginny nearly died last night because of him. He knew his friends- his family really as they had become- would object and say it wasn't his fault but he knew, deep down, Snape was right. Slowly one by one a list of names of the people Harry loved most was building up and one by one they were being killed. The list was getting too long for him to pretend it wasn't his fault.


He glanced over to his right, further down the steps, and memories of Ginny and their visit to Hogsmeade earlier that month came flooding back...


~ ~ ~ ~ ~

" Harry seriously, I have thought about every possibility I can't think of anything he wants," Ginny’s smiling face said looking up at his.

"I think Ron would be quite proud that he was managing to be so difficult to find Christmas presents for," Harry grinned.

"Merlin, you should have been there when we were younger. Mum used to dread his birthday, she would have such a hard time finding something she knew he would want, well, that we could afford anyway," she added blushing slightly and looking down at the ground.

Harry reached up impulsively and lifted her chin. "There's nothing to be ashamed of," he said quietly, "your family may not be over burdened with money-" (Ginny snorted at this, but carried on listening nevertheless) "but I would have killed to grow up with parents like yours. They've been so brilliant to me over the years, though I 'm not entirely sure why," he said smiling slightly.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Ginny muttered realising how selfish she sounded. She really was quite lucky she may not have been rich but her parents loved her very much. Harry hadn't been so lucky. She shuddered to think about his childhood and instead pushed it out of mind. She took Harry’s hand gently from her chin and held it in her own for a moment before letting it go.

They stood there for a second looking at each other when a soft guitar strumming started. They spun around and saw a busker sat on the steps underneath the clock, playing his guitar and singing softly. They walked slowly closer to hear the words:

“It's amazing
How you can speak
Right to my heart
Without saying a word,
You can light up the dark
Try as I may
I could never explain
What I hear when
You don't say a thing”

Harry looked over at Ginny and saw she was smiling softly watching with rapt attention as more people gathered to hear the busker’s song.


”The smile on your face
Lets me know
That you need me
There's a truth
In your eyes
Saying you'll never leave me
The touch of your hand says
You'll catch me
Whenever I fall
You say it best
When you say
Nothing at all”

"It's lovely," whispered Ginny’s voice breaking Harry's reverie. She cuddled closer to Harry’s arm against the whipping wind and through the chattering group of spectators he could hear her gentle humming.
"Yeah," he agreed softly.

”All day long
I can hear people
Talking out loud
But when you hold me near
You drown out the crowd
Try as they may
They can never define
What's been said
Between your
Heart and mine”

"Come on," Harry said squeezing Ginny's hand gently, "We’d better go."

"Yeah, ok." she sighed tearing her eyes away from the busker. "Come on, I have just thought of a great present for Ron. I think I know just where to look."

They walked together back towards the centre of Hogsmeade each lost in their own thoughts.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

The morning sun had crept up over Hogsmeade village unnoticed and the cheerful birdsong went unheard, as the only person outside was Harry who was lost in his world of memories. Soon heavy raindrops started to fall Harry was jerked back into the present. He heaved himself up off the ground, took one look back at the steps where the busker had sat and then walked steadily towards the shops.

"Harry!" A voice from somewhere behind Harry yelled. He spun around quickly and saw Madame Rosmerta stood outside the three broomsticks holding the door open and motioning for him to come in. He didn't really want to speak to her and wasn't sure what she wanted anyway, but he definitely didn’t want to go back to Hogwarts yet, so he followed.

She led him past the bar and into the back where she sat him down in a big armchair in front of the fire and walked through to the kitchen. Harry could hear her filling a kettle and then she came back in drying her hands on a tea towel.

She cast her eyes over the sad, haunted look in the young boy’s eyes, the soaking clothes and the slump in his shoulders, as if he carried the weight of the world on them.

"I'm not gonna ask why you were out of school at this hour cos I probably won't get a truthful answer, but you really shouldn't be out in this weather, you'll catch your death," she said matter-of-factly.

"I know," he sighed, "I... just had to get out."

"Ah," she spoke softly, "One of those days eh? Sadness is a funny thing. Many a time I have wandered around having no idea where I am heading, then you suddenly come to your senses and find you’re right where you need to be. I never understood it, just accepted it, like it was fate saying something needed to be resolved. Whatever it is that's bothering you, it will get better, I promise." She laid a comforting hand on his shoulder, and then chuckled. "My this is a deep talk, for such an early hour."

The kettle started to whistle and she walked out to get it.

Just her words echoed back in Harry’s mind: "You suddenly come to your senses and find you’re right where you need to be."

He knew where he needed to be. He just didn't really know why.

With that he grabbed some Floo powder from the mantle, stepped into the fire and said:

"Number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London!"

Chapter 6: Home is where the heart is

A single ray of sunlight showed through one of the windows, whose shutters hadn’t been fully closed. It shone a thick beam onto the dusty kitchen table and highlighted the spider webs that decorated the corners of the large room.

Harry stumbled out of the fireplace and stood up, breathing in that familiar musky old smell of his godfather’s house now heightened after months of being empty and unused.

When Harry’s mind cleared a little he wondered what he had thought returning to Grimmauld Place would accomplish. He sighed and suddenly felt overcome with tiredness, last night had been spent in the Shrieking Shack and the hospital wing. Slowly he wandered to the table in the middle of the room and sank heavily onto one of the wooden dining chairs. He slumped forwards, leaning on one arm, and stared at the dust particles illuminated by the rogue sunlight leaking through the window until his eyes became unfocused and, once more, clouded by tears.

***

When Harry awoke a couple of hours later he looked around at his surroundings in confusion for a few seconds before realising where he was. He stood up and, with a last quick glance at the empty kitchen where he had sat laughing with his godfather and friends so often before, he disappeared up the stairs to the hallway above.

Tiptoeing through the deserted house, he smiled sadly at his old bedroom, the drawing room where the boggart had been and the other distant memories that filled every storey. Harry felt as though he’d crept into a museum of a past lifetime.

The door to Sirius’ room was shut. Harry stood outside for a few minutes simply looking at it and thinking. Did he dare go in? He took a breath, turned the silver door handle and slipped inside. The room was dark and Harry instinctively moved to open the heavy curtains at the windows. He creaked one open a tiny crack so he could see, but left the others closed- he didn’t feel like letting the garishly bright, winter light invade this sacred place.

So many of Sirius’ things were scattered about the place, just as he had left them. Books, letters, clothes. It seemed no one had wanted to disturb anything in the room, that, or they didn’t want to so easily accept that he was gone.

Harry stood in silence thinking about Sirius and how he had led him into danger and wondered just how long it would be before people would understand just what associating with him meant.

“I must admit I haven’t been in here since,” said a voice from the hallway. Harry spun round; half in shock and half filled with confused excitement. There was a figure silhouetted in the doorway- a tall man, with longish hair. It couldn’t be Sirius… could it? Harry’s heart jolted.

Remus Lupin walked into Sirius’ room and glanced around. His hair had grown, his eyes were tired and he was thin.

“I thought you’d be here,” Remus said breaking the silence. A slight smile formed on his lips and he was obviously pleased to see Harry again, however the sorrow haunting his eyes didn’t go. “Dumbledore contacted me as soon as you left Hogwarts. I thought you’d come home,” explained Remus.

“But…” began Harry, then he broke off. He was going to say that his home was with the Dursleys, but he hadn’t called Privet Drive his home for 5 years now. Hogwarts was his real home. Then again, Hogwarts was just a school and Harry had become increasingly aware recently that his time there was approaching an end.

Suddenly a memory came back to Harry. It was his third year of Hogwarts when he had first met his godfather in the Shrieking Shack and he’d offered for Harry to come and live with him.

Harry looked around the dark bedroom and Remus, seeming to read his mind, put his hand on Harry’s shoulder, breaking his thoughts. “You know what they say, ‘Home is where the heart is.’”

As Harry looked up into Remus’ honest face, he smiled appreciatively.

“Harry,” Remus said quietly, moving his other hand and gripping him lightly by both shoulders in what Harry imagined was a fatherly gesture, “why did you leave Hogwarts? It’s not safe to run off like that.”

“Not safe? I was putting my friends in danger!” he replied, anger suddenly evident in his voice. The anger wasn’t directed at Remus, but at himself, for letting this happen to the people he loved most.

“You can’t just run off whenever you feel like it, whenever things get too much,” Remus answered trying to look him in the eye, but Harry kept avoiding his gaze.

"I can’t stay there, it’s too dangerous,” he whispered brokenly. “I can’t do this. It’s my fault Ginny is…” he stopped suddenly realising he didn’t know if Ginny had recovered, if she was still alive even!

“Harry, it’s not your fault!” Remus insisted turning Harry’s chin towards him. “You didn’t ask for any of this, and you know that even if you push her away she will still stand by you; that's Ginny.”

These simple words triggered off something in Remus’ memory. Those words, he had said them before he thought, and then he remembered when…

James and Lily had been ordered to take over the post of Benedict’s Turret. It had been Sirius and his girlfriend’s area to patrol but one night in December they were attacked and Sirius’ girlfriend was killed.

Michelle was different to the other girls. Sirius had never been short of a date come Friday night, Remus thought with a small smile, but no one special. However, Michelle was different.

Sirius had seemed genuinely in love, all he talked about was Michelle and they had grown very close while working together for the Order. But then, one night, Death Eaters swarmed their post and she was killed. After that Sirius changed. He had been there, but he couldn’t save her.

They were at war, there were always casualties, but now the casualties were no longer just faceless names of unfortunate wizards and witches. People were dying all around them, people who meant everything in the world to someone, just one person was enough. Michelle was the latest unfortunate fighter. Sirius had been there when it happened, but he couldn’t have defended her against that many Death Eaters, yet somehow this still didn’t seem to make sense to him.

Now James was terrified; in all honesty, he had been since the word go. He had never wanted Lily to join the Order. Not that he didn’t think it was a good cause, he did, so much so he was willing to put his life on the line for it, but not Lily’s, that was different.

They’d had the argument many a time: James wanted to keep her safe and Lily wanted to fight. Eventually James relented, mostly because he knew there was nothing he could do to stop her, but partly because he knew how strong she was and he knew what it felt like to want to defend the people you love and fight for what you believe in. That was what kept him going, what gave him reason to believe that the war they were fighting was worthwhile, eventually things would be the way they should be.

Nevertheless the thought of having Lily on the front line in a high-targeted place left James scared, uneasy and very unsure. He had always counted on being able to look after Lily. James was well aware that if Lily knew how he felt, especially about her needing protection, she would be furious, which is why he wisely didn’t tell her, but that didn’t mean he never spoke of it - just not to her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“I mean really Remus,” James moaned, “Benedict’s Turret! Lily would never have wanted to join the Order if we hadn’t said so much about it and I am sure I could have convinced Dumbledore not to ask her, I mean it wouldn’t have been easy but well…Benedict’s Turret? They couldn’t have picked anywhere more dangerous! And what are we going to do about Sirius? He hasn’t come out of his flat in five days!”

James was sat on the couch in his and Lily’s living room, luckily she was at a friends house and didn’t here this little speech, if she had she would have been livid.

“Calm down James,” Remus said quietly.

“I know,” James muttered, “it’s just… I mean… it’s not…” he sighed not knowing what to say.

Luckily Remus did and came to his friend’s aid, “James, it’s perfectly natural that you want to keep Lily safe, but you are just going to have to accept that Lily is a strong witch in her own right and perfectly capable of looking out for her self and-“ Remus held up his hand to silence James as he saw him open his mouth in indignation, “I know that you wouldn’t know what to do if you lost her and I know the war is taking lives daily, that is just one of the sad facts of war, something we are going to have to accept and move on. It’s fine to want to protect Lily but don’t suffocate her or you’ll just end pushing her away.”

“If she gets hurt at Benedict’s Turret it’ll be my fault. I will never forgive myself,” James muttered.

“It’s not your fault, you never asked for this, but you’re going to stand up and fight like you know is the right thing to do, and Lily will too, regardless of whether or not you are. Even if you try to stop her she will stand by you, that’s Lily.”

James said nothing but knew his friend was right.

Remus sighed, ”As for Sirius, well I’m not sure anyone knows what to do right now…”

People seemed to think he knew the right answer for every problem, but it just wasn’t that simple.

“If you want to know how to comfort Sirius,” he added as an after thought, “you just need to think about how you would feel if Lily died, then I think you will understand what he is going through.”

Remus finished and took a deep breath, his throat sore from talking, but he was satisfied to see a pensive, thoughtful look on James’ face. Maybe he could come up with a way to get through to Sirius after all.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

All this time that Remus had been lost in his memory, Harry had sat in silence. Now Remus looked at Harry and sighed, “You’re a lot like your father, you know. He was so scared that he was leading Lily into danger.”

“Well, it didn’t exactly turn into a happy ending for them, did it?” Harry said scornfully, glaring at the floor.


Remus stood up, shocked, and stared at his best friend’s son.

“Actually, it was because of me they were murdered, wasn’t it?” asked Harry meeting Remus’ eyes. “Same with Sirius, and now… and now Ginny!” His hard eyes were rapidly filling with tears but he kept them locked on Remus’ tired grey ones.

With a sigh Remus sat down on the bed again. “This is a war, Harry. Sirius died in battle, defending the people he loved, it’s what he would have wanted.”

Remus stared at the small gap in the curtains, the only source of light, and continued quietly. “Sirius died a soldier fighting against Voldemort, like James, like Lily, like Michelle. Maybe we were all fated to fight and die for the same cause.
When the people you love are dead, grief and revenge can cloud your judgement; you forget what there is to live for. One thing I have learnt from all of this though: life is short, you have to enjoy it, because a life riddled with regrets is pointless.”

He looked back at Harry and took him gently by the shoulders again. Remus did it because he wanted to show Harry support, but subconsciously he also did it because he needed supporting. ”I know you have the weight of the Wizarding World on your shoulders, but you can do nothing but fulfil your destiny. Then you can do all the things you’ve always wanted to do, you have a long life ahead of you. It won’t always be easy, but as long as you can control it make it happy, no regrets.”

Harry softened and collapsed in Remus’ hold, he lifted one hand to cover his eyes. “I… I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to fight.”

“Neither did we, we just followed what we believed. Right now, I think the best thing to do would be to go back to Hogwarts.”

Harry nodded.

***

The train from London to Hogsmeade was fairly empty as it was Christmas day. Harry and Remus had a compartment to themselves, it wasn’t as grand as the Hogwarts Express, the seats were worn and the window Harry was staring out of was grubby. At about 6.30 a plump witch with green tinsel in her hair opened the compartment door whistling merrily.

“Anything to eat, dears? I’ve got gingerbread reindeers, angel cakes…”

The list went on but Harry didn’t want to listen to that cheery Christmas voice, although he couldn’t deny he was starving. Remus bought a few pumpkin pasties, angel cakes and bottles of butterbeer and when the lady left he handed some to Harry.

“Thanks,” he mumbled and pulled out his moneybag that was in his pocket from Hogsmeade.

“You dropped this,” said Remus handing him something that had fallen out of his pocket. “Wait, where did you get this?”

Harry looked up and saw Remus was holding the glistening ring. He turned it over in his fingers and stared in disbelief.

“I found it last night in the Shrieking Shack,” he reached into his pocket and his fingers found the photograph, “this too.”

A smile for past times grew on Remus’ face as he stared at the moving photograph. He watched the story through twice and wiped his eyes before he spoke.

“I took this,” Remus said, still staring at the precious photograph in his hands. “I took this photo as James proposed to your mother. It was the most beautiful day of the year, two days before we left Hogwarts. I… I can’t believe you found it.” He wiped his eyes again, but continued smiling.

“We all had one, James and Lily, Sirius and me. I’d guess this is mine. I took it with me to Hogwarts and I thought I’d lost it. I must have dropped it during my transformation.”

Remus now looked back at the ring and traced the inscription as he talked to Harry. “Obviously the ring isn’t mine,” he said. “I don’t know why it was in the Shrieking Shack.”

He stopped and thought for a while before reaching a conclusion, “Sirius. Sirius told me he had taken it. He went to Godric’s Hollow the night he escaped from Azkaban and found their wedding ring just lying on the window sill so he took it. He wanted to keep it safe and then, one day, give it to you.
Your parents would have wanted him to have it. He was their best man after all and a ring like this, engraved with love, should never be lost.”

He placed the silver ring into Harry’s open hand who immediately clasped it tightly and Remus smiled.

For the next few minutes the two ate in silence, however after a while Harry stopped. His half-eaten fairy cake flapped it’s one remaining cake wing and took off from his loosened grip, fluttering in a hopeless circle. Instinctively, Harry reached out and grabbed it, but his mind was focused elsewhere.

”What’s Pereda Venenum?” he asked quietly.

Remus swallowed the last of his pumpkin pasty and ran his fingers through his greying hair. “I was wondering when you’d ask about that.”

He leant back on the old, comfortable seat and began to explain, “I have heard from Professor Dumbledore that last night Ginny Weasley was abducted by Lord Voldemort while you two were in the Shrieking Shack.”

Harry nodded and Remus continued. “She was transported to Benedict’s Turret- an abandoned watchtower from centuries past- about fifty miles away, and there, Dumbledore tells me, Bellatrix Lestrange was waiting to assist Voldemort.”

At the mention of Bellatrix’s name Harry shuddered with disgust and hatred, but he remained silent and let Remus carry on.

“The spell Pereda Venenum is extremely powerful, but I doubt anyone has even attempted to perform it in a hundred years, it’s not something you’d learn at Hogwarts.
This spell uses love to kill and it has very rarely worked, either because the bond is not strong enough or the person performing it does not dare to sacrifice their own life. There are times, however, when a lover is under control of someone more powerful and therefore forced to do the spell. This is what happened to Ginny last night.

“I don’t understand,” Harry said frowning. "How can love kill people?”

“I will explain what happens in the spell and hopefully it will make more sense.” Remus said running his fingers through his hair once more. “A fire is prepared with floo powder and the person wishing to kill their lover stands over the flames and the person has to show that they are willing to give their own life to take their lovers by slitting their wrists. This person is sacrificing them self to kill the person that they are so strongly joined to. When the blood touches the flames, a serpent is created which uses the floo powder to get to the victim, wherever they are, and deliver their poison.
When Dumbledore went through the fire to Benedict’s Turret last night he must have destroyed the serpent, when he saw the empty fire he thought that the spell had only just begun. This is the reason he left once he was sure that you were safe. He didn’t know that Ginny had slit her wrists yet so he thought she was just in shock.”

“Who would kill someone they loved?” Harry said.

“Love is a powerful thing, it changes people, sometimes that’s good and sometimes it isn’t. A broken heart can be painful enough to lead to hatred and a want of revenge. It sounds unusual for someone to go that far, and it is, which is why the spell is rarely ever used.”

“Well, why would Voldemort go through all that ritual to kill me when he’d been in the same room as me just minutes before?” asked Harry with his head in one hand. “He could have just killed me then. Why did he have to involve Ginny?”

“I don’t know if I’m the right person to tell you this, but I’ll try and explain it as best I can. Do you remember telling me what you heard when you faced Dementors?”

Harry nodded and shuddered as a vivid memory returned to him.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Someone was screaming, screaming inside his head… a woman… his mother…
“Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!”
“Stand aside, you silly girl… stand aside, now…”
“Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead-“

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

“You’re mother didn’t have to die. Voldemort didn’t want her, but she stood in the way to shield her child. She died willingly. I am sure you know about the love from your mother’s sacrifice that lives inside you, always protecting you. It was the one thing that Voldemort couldn’t understand and he couldn’t touch you because of this protection. However, a year and a half ago he found a way to create a body of his own and he used your blood to give him that body. Your blood ran in his veins and so he was able to touch you. He had overcome the problem of your mother’s protection, or so he thought.”

Remus stopped and smiled at Harry. “A sacrifice so powerful cannot be destroyed, your mother’s shield will always guard you and although Voldemort has your blood inside him, Lily’s love will not protect him, because it was you she died to save and you the shield protects. And so, Voldemort realised that the killing curse he used on you so many years ago would still fail to take effect. You may be injured, yes, because the shield has been weakened, but you certainly would not be killed. Therefore, there would be no use in springing Avada Kedavra on you, as you would inevitably survive again.”

“So, he can’t kill me?” asked Harry, thinking about the prophecy and doubting Remus’ explanation.

“There are other ways, I’m afraid; Pereda Venenum for example. This spell uses love for it’s power- Ginny’s love. Your mother’s sacrifice created a protective shield, amazingly strong.” Remus paused trying to think of a way to explain something so complicated. ”Think of your mother’s sacrifice as a shield and each person’s power as a sword. Voldemort’s sword couldn’t penetrate this shield of love around you. It was Lily’s love that saved you and it would have to be love taking your life away. The power of Pereda Venenum is derived from Ginny’s love for you, as it is as strong as your mother’s, Ginny’s sword, or power, can penetrate it. By controlling the person performing Pereda Venenum Voldemort would have direct access to you. When Ginny was under his control she sacrificed herself to kill you, thus penetrating the shield of protection.”

For a few minutes there was thoughtful silence again, but Harry had to ask Remus one more question, “Why Ginny?”

Remus smiled. “So like James, too blind to see love shining right into his eyes,” he said shaking his head. “You love her, Harry, and she obviously feels as strongly in return.”

Harry’s cheeks turned as dark as Ginny’s hair and Remus laughed, “What is it with Potters and redheads?”

Chapter 7: Between Your Heart and Mine

The train pulled into Hogsmeade station and Harry and Remus stepped onto the bitter cold platform. They had no luggage so they walked through the village and up the path towards the enormous castle just visible on the dark skyline.

Remus stopped before the great oak doors and pointed to a tree on the edge of the lake. Harry squinted and could just make out a familiar figure huddled against the thick trunk.

“I’m going to speak to Dumbledore,” Remus said and he nodded encouragingly at Harry. “Do what you need to do to put this right.”

Ginny saw Harry approaching through the dark, but she remained sitting in amongst the roots of the tree and waited until he was closer to speak, “Where did you go?” she asked, her voice cold and emotionless.

“Grimmauld Place,” Harry replied quietly, “Remus found me.”

“Oh,” she replied and looked out across the lake. A long silence hung in the air confirming Harry’s belief that this was going to be harder than he’d hoped to put right.

“Why did you leave us?” Ginny asked, hurt now revealing itself as she spoke, though she tried so hard to conceal it.

Harry frowned. “I didn’t, I came back to the hospital wing with you.”

“But then you left,” she continued in a more controlled tone.

“I had to, I had to get out,” he insisted.

“Oh,” she said again, although this time there was definite anger in her voice. “It was important then?”

“Well… yes.” Harry said, not really knowing how to respond.

“More important than us?”

Harry shook his head and moved closer instinctively. He noticed that Ginny was shivering with cold. “No, I left to protect you. I was putting you in danger.”

“How would leaving protect us?” she demanded, still not looking at him.

“I’m putting you in danger! You nearly died because of me!”

Ginny stood up and faced him, her fiery red hair blowing behind her, “But you didn’t care enough to wait and see if I was OK?”

With that she walked off towards the school, leaving Harry in a stunned silence, staring after her. “Where are you going?” he called desperately, his voice carried away by the wind.

Because it was dark Harry didn’t see Ginny wiping away the tears that were rushing down her cheeks.

***

“Let’s split up and look for her,” suggested Ron, standing in front of the portrait hole.

Hermione nodded. She was worried about Ginny. They hadn’t seen her for two hours now, since they were let out of the Hospital wing, and they had looked everywhere they could think of. Ginny had seemed extremely upset when she woke up and run off sobbing when Ron had asked what was up, it was very unlike her.

“You search Gryffindor Tower, “ ordered Hermione, ”I’ll check the corridors we haven’t already and the girl’s toilets.”

Ron agreed and clambered through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.

“Ginny! Ginny!” he shouted up the stairs to the girl’s dormitories. There was no reply.

He sat down on one of the armchairs by the fire, thinking, and his gaze fell on the pile of unopened Christmas presents beneath the decorated tree. On top was a blue wrapped package with a message saying:
“To Ron,
Merry Christmas,
Love from Hermione”.

Ron smiled and thought back to a few weeks before when they had gone Christmas shopping. “Harry had tried to be so subtle going off with Ginny just to give me and Hermione some time alone,” Ron thought.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ron was peering over Hermione’s shoulder at the window display in All That Glitters in Hogsmeade. She was looking at necklaces which had names spelt out in turquoise letters on delicate silver chains.

“They’re so pretty,” she sighed and then turned to Ron. “Ok, where shall we go now? Ron?”

“Oh err…” He hadn’t been listening to her at all; he had been too focused on how her eyes had lit up at the sight of the pretty necklaces and how beautiful one would look around her neck. He was wondering whether he should buy her one although he was sure they’d be expensive. The moneybag in his pocket was full because he’d been saving up but he hadn’t got Harry, Ginny, his brothers or his parents’ presents yet. The necklace would cost everything he’d saved. It would be worth it though, wouldn’t it? If he got her one of those necklaces she’d be so pleased. Maybe pleased enough to…

“Ron!” Hermione said impatiently. “Why, in Merlin’s name, are you stood there gawking?”

“Err…” He mumbled, but suddenly he had a plan. “I need to go see Fred and George.”

She eyed him suspiciously, “What?”

“I, err… I’ve been saying I’ll drop in ever since they opened a new branch in Hogsmeade.”

“Oh,” Hermione replied, “well, I’m not coming. I’ll see you in Flourish and Blotts in half an hour.”

Ron had known she wouldn’t come with him to see the twins after the prank they’d played on her last time. Smiling, he watched as she walked away down the high street.

The bell above the door of All That Glitters rang loudly as he entered. He’d go to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes later.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Ron smiled. The necklace had been worth it. Even if he’d had to be Fred and George’s guinea pig for a fortnight to pay for everyone else’s presents.

***

Hermione ran down the hallway, checking all of the corridors leading off it, and into the girl’s bathroom. She swung the old door open and called Ginny’s name. It was empty. She turned to leave, but caught a glimpse of her reflection in one of the cracked mirrors on the wall. Her gaze immediately fell to the silver chain around her neck and her name spelt backwards in the mirror.

She couldn’t believe Ron had bought it; she had been so surprised when he had given it to her. As she thought back to the day she’d first seen it in the jewellery shop window in Hogsmeade she recalled Harry’s “subtle” plan to spend time alone with Ginny. He had made it sound like he was doing her and Ron the favour, letting them spend some time on their own. “Only an idiot would believe that,” she thought, grinning.

She glanced over to the new white basin on her right; it had replaced the one smashed by the troll in her first year. Seeing this made her realize how much Ron had done for her over the years. It made her smile to think that even then he had liked her and also how lucky she was to have friends who’d save her life, risking their own, even when she had barely known them.

Her mind returned to Ginny and she hurried out of the bathroom, the door banging shut behind her.

***

A short while later Hermione burst into the common room. “I can’t find her anywhere,” she said breathlessly.

“It’s OK, Harry’s seen her,” replied Ron from the comfortable armchair facing the fire. She couldn’t see his face, but she could tell by the tone of his voice how tired he was.

“Harry’s here?” she asked.

“He just stormed in, muttering to himself, then ran upstairs and came back with a wooden box. He didn’t even notice I was here till I shouted and asked if he’d seen Ginny.”

“And he had?”

“I guess,” Ron replied. “He just said, “Unfortunately yes,” then ran off. Do you think we should find them?”

Hermione shrugged and smiled inwardly, “Let them figure it out.”

She slumped down on the arm of his chair. She was exhausted.

A thought crept into Ron’s mind about how things had changed between them recently and he grinned. They were both so much more relaxed in each other’s company and yet he was still surprised by every intimate action. “It’s been a hard few days, huh?” he said softly.

Hermione said nothing, she was too tired. She rested her head on his shoulder and sighed.

Yes, things had changed.

***

Ginny walked the corridors. She had run from Harry, back to the castle, and now she was wandering aimlessly.

She wasn’t sure where she was going; she wasn’t even looking anymore, just walking, trying to get off her mind the one thing she knew would follow her. “Why does he want to hurt me?” she asked herself again.

Everywhere she looked she was reminded of him. But people and places she could run from, it was what was in her mind that was inescapable.

She turned a corner and ran right into a figure, she looked up and found the last person she wanted to see right now - Harry.

He took hold of her shoulders before she could turn and walk away, and forced her to look him in the eye.

“I know I shouldn’t have left, but I felt so alone and scared, I didn’t know what was going to happen to you. Then Snape kept saying how it was all my fault and I know it was and I just couldn’t deal with the guilt of knowing I am leading more people I love into danger.”

Ginny’s expression softened slightly, but anger and frustration were still evident in her face. “Harry this isn’t your fault, this has never been your fault, why can’t you just let some of this guilt go? It’s killing you! We stick around because we love you and we’ll follow you to whatever Voldemort has in store for us, to whatever end.”

Harry stood still for a few seconds and then dropped his head to Ginny’s shoulder and she reached her arms around him and nuzzled her face into his chest. “You know you’re still not forgiven, right?” she said smiling, her voice muffled.

Harry nodded and then carefully took her hand in his, ”Come with me,” he said quietly.

***

As they climbed the spiral staircase leading to the Astronomy Tower Ginny giggled, “This better be good.”

Harry remained silent as his heart was jumping around with every step he took.

“What’s going-“ Ginny started, but Harry shushed her softly. She gave him a confused look and he just smiled back.

Just as they reached the last turn in the spiral staircase, she heard it: a soft guitar strumming from above. They stopped on the top step, in front of the archway, which was covered by a heavy, black curtain.

Upon hearing the first line of the song a smile appeared on her face.

“It's amazing how you can speak right to my heart,”

She looked up at Harry curiously.

“Without saying a word,”

He simply returned the smile before moving to the archway.

“you can light up the dark.”

With that, he opened the curtain to reveal the astronomy tower, decorated by dozens of flickering candles, twinkling like the stars in the night sky surrounding them.

”Try as I may I could never explain
What I hear when you don't say a thing.”

Silently, Harry took her hand again and led her to the centre of the round stone tower, so high above the dark grounds. By the wall stood a small wooden music box playing the sweet melody.

“I was planning to give it you for Christmas,” he whispered.

The candlelight glittered in her eyes as Ginny beamed and Harry was suddenly reminded of his father’s proposal to Lily.

”The smile on your face lets me know that you need me,
There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me,”

She let him take her in his arms and start to gently dance, barely moving.

“The touch of your hand says you'll catch me whenever I fall.
You say it best when you say nothing at all.

All day long I can hear people talking out loud
But when you hold me near you drown out the crowd
Try as they may they can never define
What's been said between your heart and mine”

As they danced, Ginny began to sing softly, and she leaned her head on Harry’s shoulder.

“The smile on your face lets me know that you need me,
There's a truth in your eyes saying you'll never leave me,
The touch of your hand says you'll catch me whenever I fall.
You say it best when you say nothing at all.

You say it best when you say nothing at all
You say it best when you say nothing at all”

“Harry, please don’t leave again,” Ginny whispered, gripping him tighter.

“I promise,” he whispered back as he leaned in and kissed her gently.

“The smile on your face
The truth in your eyes
The touch of your hand
Let's me know that you need me”

“You say it best when you say nothing at all

You say it best when you say nothing at all …”

The soft music carried through the night and over the silent grounds, to where a lone figure stood watching the distant, dancing couple. The sight of them together took him back to happier times. Remus sighed and wrapped his cloak tighter around himself, before setting off towards Hogsmeade station.

He had promised that he would help his best friends’ son make the decisions that would let him be as happy as he deserved. And he had persuaded Harry to grasp a love and hold on tightly, as he himself had never dared to do.

He had convinced Harry that there was still hope. Now he just needed to convince himself.