The house at number 4 Privet Drive looked dark and silent from the street. This was as it should be as the hour approached midnight, and respectable people like the elder Dursleys were in bed asleep. Two residents of the house were still awake, however. It was the summer holiday, and so, as one would expect, the two teenaged boys who lived there, one seventeen and the other almost that age, had not yet retired for the night. Harry could hear Dudley moving about his bedroom. Harry’s over-large cousin was most likely listening to music with his headphones, but Harry was still very careful to be as quiet as possible. He was busy packing his trunk, for the following day he would leave this house and never return. Of course, the Dursleys knew nothing of this plan, and he intended to keep them in the dark for as long as possible.

Harry dropped an armful of socks into his cauldron and looked over at the luminous numbers on the clock. It was 11:55. In exactly five minutes it would be his seventeenth birthday, and he would no longer be an underage wizard. In five minutes he would be allowed to do magic whenever he wanted. Then he’d be able to make short work of his packing. He sighed impatiently. Time would pass more quickly if he did something, rather than idly sit and wait. He knelt down by his bed and reached underneath it to pry up the loose floorboard and empty his secret stash of food, parchment and quills. He deposited all this in his trunk and looked at the clock again.

11:57

He began on the wardrobe, removing several pairs of oversized jeans and then paused a moment to look into the mirror. He didn’t look tangibly different now that he was almost seventeen. Round glasses still partly hid his strikingly green eyes; his hair was as chronically untidy as ever; his scar was occasionally visible under his fringe; and he was as skinny as he’d ever been. In fact, he’d shot up quite a bit in the last year or so, which served to make him seem even skinnier. He was taller than both his Uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley now, which meant any hand-me-downs he got were too short and too wide. He’d never manage to catch up to his friend Ron in height, though.

In the mirror, he could now see 12:00 reflected backwards. He grinned and pulled out his wand. He was about to mutter an incantation which would send all his clothes flying into the open trunk at the foot of his bed, when a tapping at his window stopped him. His eyes flew to the window and from there to the wall separating his room from Dudley’s. The ensuing silence told Harry that Dudley had not heard anything out of the ordinary. Harry opened the window to admit Hedwig, who had just returned from the Burrow, bearing an envelope so thick it must contain more than one letter. No sooner had she entered than another owl, one Harry did not recognise, followed swiftly on her heels. This one bore a parcel.

Harry relieved both owls of their burdens. The strange owl flew off immediately after drinking from the water tray in Hedwig’s cage. Harry wondered about the parcel. He would be leaving for the Weasleys’ in the morning and had reckoned he’d be getting his presents there. He hadn’t expected anything tonight. However he recognised the writing as Sirius’. He tore at the wrapping and drew out a book entitled Dr. Zog’s Practical Spells for Wizards. Harry frowned slightly. Why would Sirius get him a spell-book? At the end of the upcoming school year, he’d have finished his magical education. He ought to know everything he’d need to get on in the world by then.

He set the book aside on his chest of drawers for the moment and picked up the scrap of parchment which had fallen from the parcel. On it he read:

He felt a wave of disappointment at the thought of missing his godfather, but he knew that Sirius must have important business to miss his birthday.

Harry looked dubiously at the book once more. He picked it up from the chest of drawers, opened it and began to page randomly through it. At first glance it looked like an ordinary spell book, but then a word caught his eye, and he felt heat flood his face. He turned more pages, and realised a major portion of this book was devoted to contraceptive charms. Upon closer inspection, he saw that there was also practical advice on technique, silencing spells, spells for escaping jealous boyfriends… There were also sections of the book devoted to sobriety charms and hangover cures. Harry thought he might find that part useful, at least. Perhaps he’d find a good charm to cure headaches.

Harry was extremely grateful he had not received this particular gift in front of the Weasleys. The twins especially would never let him live it down. Upon reflection, he was also glad Sirius had not been able to give this present to him in person. He would have been very embarrassed to have to admit in front of his godfather that he had no pressing need at the moment for these sorts of spells. Ron, on the other hand… He wondered if he even dared show this to Ron. Ron and Hermione had been a couple since last year, but Harry didn’t really like to speculate on what his two best friends got up to when he wasn’t around.

He set the book down for the moment and turned to the letters he’d received from Hedwig. There were three in the envelope, the topmost from Ron.

The next parchment was written in Hermione’s hand.

Harry suspected that the reason Hermione had come to the Burrow a day early had more to do with Ron than any party preparations.

He turned to the envelope once more. He thought it was oddly heavy for two short notes. It was actually the third letter that explained the weight. There seemed to be more than merely a third piece of parchment, but Harry disregarded this for a moment. He was much more intrigued about the author of the third note, for he thought he recognised Ginny’s handwriting. He’d never received a letter from her before.

Harry stared at the letter. He imagined the secrecy was mostly to stop her older brothers teasing her because she’d given him a birthday present. He paused for a moment and considered what this might mean. Ginny had never been anything more than his best friend’s little sister in his eyes, and she’d certainly never given him a birthday present before. He knew she’d had a crush on him in the past, but he didn’t think she could possibly still have it. No, this must be a gesture of friendship, and nothing more.

He put his hand into the envelope and pulled out a silver chain with a white gem stone hanging from it. He thought it was a rather odd gift for her to give him; it looked as if it might be a piece of her own jewellery. Was he supposed to wear it? Not yet, at any rate, but that would hardly go over well with the other boys in his dormitory… He put the stone in his hand and felt a strange thrumming coming from it. Whatever else it was, it definitely had some sort of magic in it. He looked back at Ginny’s note. Protective properties, she’d said, but she didn’t explain how to benefit from them. Well, he mused, he’d be seeing her tomorrow. He could ask her about it then.

An odd noise from Dudley’s room broke through his reverie. Harry shuddered. Dudley was at it again; Seamus would say he was polishing his wand. Harry cast a Silencing charm in the direction of Dudley’s room. He froze for a moment, half-expecting to receive a nasty memo from the Improper Use of Magic Office, but relaxed after a few minutes when no new owl came to his window. He was glad he could finally shut out the noise and not have to worry about being expelled from Hogwarts.

Harry concentrated on his packing in order to block out the nasty mental images of what was transpiring in the next room. He looked with disgust on Dudley’s old clothes and wondered why he was bothering with them. He took them out of his trunk and left them in a heap on the floor. Tomorrow he was leaving, and he saw no point in taking a reminder of this place with him. He still had plenty of money in his Gringott’s vault. All he’d have to do was exchange some of it into pounds and go shopping for some proper clothes.

He made short work of the rest of his packing with a wave of his wand and crawled into bed.

*

Harry woke up the next morning later than he’d meant to, and it was already 9 o’clock by the time he went downstairs to breakfast. He’d had to resign himself to putting on Dudley’s hand-me-downs one final time; he could always burn them later. Dudley hadn’t yet put in an appearance. Uncle Vernon was sitting at his place at the table, his nose buried in the morning paper. Harry had helped himself to some toast before Uncle Vernon set his paper aside and acknowledged his presence.

"About time you got up."

Harry didn’t bother replying. He went on eating his toast. He reached for more, and Uncle Vernon put out a hand to stop him.

"That’s enough for you. You’ve had your share. You’d eat us out of house and home if we let you."

Harry told himself it was best to ignore his uncle, although he dearly wanted to point out the irony of his uncle’s statement. He’d be gone in less than an hour.

"Your aunt has some chores for you today, boy," Uncle Vernon continued. "You’d best get on with them."

Harry looked up at his uncle at this and fought to keep a straight face. Perhaps he could have some fun with this after all. "I don’t think so."

"WHAT?!" Uncle Vernon’s face had turned purple in record time. "Petunia, did you hear the tone he just took with me?"

Aunt Petunia turned from where she was frying up a pound of bacon for Dudley’s breakfast. "He gets more ungrateful every day, he does. To think we’ve put a roof over his head and clothed him for all these years," she said huffily.

In the mean time Uncle Vernon’s purple face was now less than an inch from Harry’s. "Don’t you ever dare to talk back to me that way again! Now get to work!"

"No."

Uncle Vernon opened and closed his mouth a few times in shock. Aunt Petunia screeched. From upstairs there came a heavy thud which shook the entire house and caused several items from Aunt Petunia’s ceramic salt and pepper shaker collection to shatter onto the floor; Dudley had apparently been shocked awake by his mother’s shriek and had fallen out of his bed in surprise. Heavy footfalls on the stairs announced his imminent arrival in the kitchen.

Uncle Vernon had grabbed Harry by the shoulder and was attempting to drag him to his feet. Harry voluntarily stood up, so that he could look down on his uncle. Vernon Dursley had had a bit of a shock when he’d picked Harry up at King’s Cross at the end of last term and seen that Harry had grown taller than he was during the previous ten months. Harry could tell the older man was rather intimidated by Harry’s new-found height, even if his uncle still outweighed him by a good two stone.

"You will show your gratitude for all we’ve provided for you by doing as we tell you," Uncle Vernon was saying in a strained voice, as he tried to pull Harry bodily from the kitchen. His way was quite thoroughly blocked by Dudley who now stood in the kitchen door.

"What’s he done now?" Dudley asked.

"No need to worry your head, Duddikins," simpered Aunt Petunia.

"Yeah, you don’t want to strain your brain," Harry couldn’t resist adding. Uncle Vernon gave Harry’s arm a nasty wrench, and Harry decided he’d had enough. He drew his wand.

Vernon and Dudley both blanched and shrunk back. Aunt Petunia let out another scream and nearly dropped the frying pan containing Dudley’s bacon onto the floor. "You put that away, boy. I know you’re not allowed to do any of that unnaturalness here. You’ll be expelled from that, that school of yours." Uncle Vernon was trying to sound sure of himself, but he couldn’t quite carry it off, shaking as he was.

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Have you forgotten what day it is?" he asked quietly. The Durselys apparently had forgotten, for none of them supplied an answer. "I’ll remind you then. It’s my seventeenth birthday. In my world, I’m no longer considered underage. In other words, I can do magic whenever I like and no one will bat an eye."

"I WILL NOT HAVE THAT IN THIS HOUSE" Uncle Vernon thundered, but he didn’t manage to sound convincing for all his volume.

Harry merely shrugged. "You won’t have to worry about it much longer," he informed them. "I’m leaving today. In less than an hour as a matter of fact."

Uncle Vernon was looking at him suspiciously, but before he could say anything, Aunt Petunia wailed, "But who’s going to weed the garden and mow the lawn? And the windows are filthy!"

Harry cast a glance at the spotless windows and then looked pointedly at Dudley. "You could get him to do it, you know. Or you could hire someone. I don’t much care one way or the other. Now if you’ll excuse me…" Harry made to leave the kitchen, which was going to be a difficult prospect as Dudley was still blocking the way. Harry pointed his wand at his cousin. "You know," he said, acting as if he were seriously considering the matter, "I bet a good shrinking spell would do wonders for you. I could probably melt enough fat off you that you’d actually find a school uniform that fit. Might even find yourself a girlfriend." Dudley flushed bright red at this, and Harry knew his point had been taken. "Now if I could just think of the right one to use…"

Dudley quickly moved out of his way, leaving him to face Uncle Vernon. "Wait just one second there, you. Just how are you planning on leaving?"

Harry grinned innocently. "The Weasleys are coming to pick me up. You remember the Weasleys, don’t you?"

The look on Uncle Vernon’s face told him that the Weasleys most certainly were remembered and not fondly. "No. Absolutely not. I will not have that family destroy my house again."

"Mr Weasley cleaned up the mess last time, didn’t he?"

"Well, yes, but… but that’s not the point. I won’t have… wizards—" he almost choked on the word "—popping in and out of my fireplace and fondling my plugs."

Harry had to fight very hard not to laugh at his uncle’s last declaration. "If that’s the way they decide to come, I don’t see that you’ll have much choice in the matter."

Harry pushed past his uncle then and went back upstairs, ignoring his uncle’s bellow. In reality he had no idea how the Weasleys were planning on coming to get him this time. He was still hungry—two slices of toast were not enough to fill the belly of a seventeen year old boy—and he rummaged in his trunk for some snacks, thinking happily that soon he’d be able to eat Mrs Weasley’s good home cooking to his heart’s content.

Time began to creep by at a snail’s pace. At five minutes to ten, Harry picked up Hedwig's cage, magicked his trunk down to the hall and sat on it to wait. The Dursely’s stayed behind the closed kitchen door. At ten precisely, the doorbell rang, making Harry jump. He hadn’t been expecting the Weasleys to arrive on time nor in a way that necessitated ringing the doorbell. Yet, when he answered the door, Ron was standing there with Ginny and Hermione. Harry grinned at them, and they grinned back.

"Ready to go, Harry?" asked Ron.

"Yeah, let me get my trunk. Hi, Hermione, Ginny." Hermione looked tanned and happy, Ron looked as freckled and good-natured as usual, but Ginny looked pale and drawn, as if she’d recently been ill. They were all dressed in Muggle clothes.

As Harry turned back for his trunk, he noticed that the kitchen door was open a crack. "I’m off," he called down the hall, and the kitchen door snapped shut. Harry didn’t expect any more of a response than that. He magicked his trunk out to the front step, suppressing the urge to let out a whoop of freedom.

"You’ll have to carry it from here," noted Hermione, taking Hedwig's cage from him. "Can’t risk the Muggles seeing you do that."

Harry took one end of his trunk and Ron the other, and they made their way, followed by the girls, to an old-fashioned dark green Ministry car driven by a liveried, tight-lipped chauffeur, who now got out of the car to put Harry's trunk into the boot.

As Harry got into the car, he took one final look at the Dursleys' house in spite of himself. He had to laugh at what he saw. His aunt, uncle and cousin had their faces pressed to the living room window to watch him go. His aunt had her hand over her heart, no doubt shocked to see him leaving in what must look like a Muggle limousine. Dudley merely looked more porcine than usual with his nose plastered to the glass. Harry waved at them, and their faces disappeared as if by magic.

"Dad was able to call in a favour and get a Ministry car," said Ron, once they were all crowded into the back seat and heading for the motorway. "It’s brilliant. We made the trip out here in no time."

Sure enough they were soon speeding along, Harry, Ron and Hermione chattering about their holiday plans as they fairly melted in and out of the traffic. Harry found himself wishing they could slow down a bit, but at the same time hoping they’d reach the Burrow soon. He was wedged in between Ginny and Hermione, and he found himself glancing over at Ginny’s profile, wondering again why she looked so tired and about the birthday present she’d sent him. He couldn’t ask her about that, though, with Ron and Hermione there. Ginny had wanted her gift to remain a secret. So instead he turned to her and asked, "how’ve you been, Ginny?"

She jumped slightly, as if she hadn’t expected him to talk to her. "Oh, fine."

"Are you sure? You look like you’ve been ill." Harry cringed as soon as the words were out. He doubted she appreciated what he’d just said to her.

"I’ve just been having some trouble sleeping lately. It’s nothing." Her voice carried a tone of finality. Harry took the hint and did not pursue the matter.

He lapsed into silence for a while, but then he glanced surreptitiously at Ron and Hermione to make sure they weren’t paying attention. "I got your owl," he said in an undertone. She met his gaze then, and he was surprised to note just how richly brown her eyes were. "Thank you for thinking of me."

She looked down, and he thought she might be going red. "You’re welcome." Silence fell between them again, but it wasn’t long before they were driving up the lane that led to the Burrow.

A/N: I didn't put this at the beginning, but the standard disclaimer applies. I don't own the Harry Potter characters, the spells or the settings. They belong to J. K. Rowling and Warner Brothers. I'm not making any money off this, but I'm having a good time anyway. Also the necklace idea is drawn from The Lord of the Rings. Arwen gives a white gem on a silver chain to Frodo near the end of the story.

Almost as soon as Harry got out of the car, he found himself enveloped in a motherly hug. Mrs Weasley had been awaiting their arrival in the small yard. "Happy birthday, Harry dear," she said as she released him. "I've got lunch all ready for us. Just take your things up to Ron's room for now. You can unpack after we've eaten."

Harry went over to magic his trunk out of the car's boot, glancing as he did so at the Ministry chauffeur who was standing rigidly beside the car like a statue. Harry hadn't paid much attention to the driver at the Durselys', and on the drive to the Burrow he'd been seated behind the driver's seat. But Harry took notice now. The chauffeur's eyes were hidden behind dark glasses, and he was almost unnaturally tall. Harry wondered how he'd managed to fit his long legs beneath the steering wheel.

The Burrow didn't seem to have changed very much since the last time Harry had seen it in the summer after his fourth year. The chickens were still milling about, the house itself looked as if it might fall down any minute, as did the tumbledown garage behind it, and there was still a rusty cauldron by the front door, looking as if it hadn't been touched in the interim. Several pairs of wellington boots lay in a heap by the front door, but the heap was smaller than it used to be. Only Ron and Ginny were still living at home. Percy had married and moved into a flat off Diagon Alley, while the twins lived in Hogsmeade, where they had jobs developing new products for Zonko's.

Harry quickly put his things in Ron's room at the top of the house, before heading back to the kitchen, where he intended to enjoy enough lunch to make up for his frugal breakfast. As he took his place at the table, he spied that morning's edition of the Daily Prophet on the counter. Picking it up, he looked at the headline, which was accompanied by a photo of the Dark Mark twinkling like so many ghastly stars over the ruins of a house, proclaiming another horrific Death Eater attack. The topic of Voldemort's latest activities had been judiciously avoided on the journey over, almost as if there had been an unspoken agreement between the teenagers, but Harry knew the situation was bad. In a sense, he did not need to ask for news; he had his own personal Voldemort sensor in the form of his scar.

Harry felt someone's gaze upon him. Looking up, he met Mrs Weasley's brown eyes. In the excitement of his arrival, he hadn't noticed the lines of care that were etched more deeply on her face, but now they stood out. Harry knew she must be extremely worried about her two eldest sons who were involved in fighting the enemy so far away from home.

"It's bad, isn't it?" Harry asked, perhaps needlessly. He'd heard from Sirius that Dark forces seemed to be gaining ground everywhere in Europe.

"Worse every day," she replied gravely, and Harry was struck by the fact that she hadn't tried to brush the matter aside. She'd answered him as one adult to another.

When everyone was seated around the table, however, Mrs Weasley steered the conversation to happier topics. In spite of this, there remained in the kitchen an underlying tension, a sort of tacit acknowledgement that things were not as they should be in the world.

Harry noticed that Ginny was not taking part in the chatter over the meal. He stole occasional glances at her across the table. The signs of exhaustion were more evident than ever in her face. Her freckles stood out in sharp contrast against the pallor of her skin, and there were purplish smudges under her eyes. It wouldn't surprise him if she fell asleep in her plate of chicken casserole.

"Aren't you going to eat anything, Ginny?"

As Harry watched, Ginny started in her seat at her mother's sudden words. Ginny's plate had only been picked at.

"Sorry, Mum," she mumbled. "I'm just not that hungry."

Mrs Weasley waited expectantly, pursing her lips, and Ginny obediently picked up her fork and took a bite, but the moment her mother looked the other way, the fork was set down again.

After lunch all four teenagers trooped up the stairs, Ginny leaving them at her room and closing the door behind her, while the other three continued on to Ron's room. It was still very orange, if less violently so; the colour had faded somewhat with time. Harry moved to unpack his trunk but immediately thought better of it. He didn't want Hermione to spot the book Sirius had given him. He knew she'd definitely want to look at it but would not likely be thrilled with its subject matter. There was also Ginny's gift which he was supposed to be keeping secret.

"So what's with Ginny?" Harry asked, as the three of them sat on Ron's bed.

"Dunno. She's been acting strange all summer. I've hardly seen her. She sleeps a lot."

"It's very odd," put in Hermione. "I arrived yesterday, and she was asleep. Yet I have no idea when she came to bed last night. It must have been very late."

"Mum's been really worried," added Ron. "But no one can get anything out of her. She just says she's tired."

Harry had a nasty thought. "You don't think this is anything like second year, do you? You know, with the diary?"

Ron shrugged. "She was jumpy then, I guess. Not sleepy."

Hermione looked thoughtful. "It doesn't seem to me she'd go messing with any sort of diary again, let alone a magic one, or anything Dark for that matter, after what she went through her first year. I haven't seen much of her since I've been here, but she seems to me to be acting tired, just as she says."

"But if she's so tired, why didn't she come to bed last night?" Ron pointed this out with a bit of a grin that he'd caught Hermione in an apparent contradiction.

"Maybe the reason she's so tired is because she stays up till all hours. Honestly, why don't you just ask her what she's been getting up to?"

"I tried. She's not telling. And she's not telling Mum, either, whatever it is."

Harry wondered if any of this had to do with Ginny's sudden decision to give him a birthday present. He considered telling Ron and Hermione about it, but something held him back. She'd asked him to keep it a secret. He'd assumed the reason for this was to avoid her brothers' teasing, but now he wasn't so certain. She'd mentioned in her note something about everything being done properly for the magic to work. Perhaps one of the conditions was secrecy. But the only way he'd find out was to ask Ginny herself about it. He have to wait for the right opportunity to do that without anyone else finding out.

"I had a note from Sirius last night," Harry said to change the subject. "He's being sent on some secret mission and can't come to the party tonight."

"Oh no!" exclaimed Hermione. "I hope he'll be all right."

"Me too," said Harry.

Sirius had gone on similar assignments often enough in the past, and Harry knew his godfather could effectively disguise himself, but he suddenly felt uneasy. Hermione and Ron must have felt it as well, for silence fell and they all stared at each other, as the tension that had been present since lunch made itself palpable. A bubble of anger welled up in Harry at the powerlessness he felt at still being in school. As of today he was an adult--he, Ron and Hermione all were now--and yet there was nothing he could do to help in the war until he'd finished school. He wanted to be allowed to act, but his hands were tied.

Ron stood up, pacing restlessly. Hermione watched him for a bit before saying, "Let's go for a walk. You coming, Harry?"

"No, you two go on. I'll unpack my things a bit."

Harry knew they'd be safe in the immediate vicinity of the Burrow. A large perimeter had been magically warded off around the property. No one could Apparate or Disapparate, and no one could even approach without their presence being detected. The only ways in or out were by the lane or by Floo powder, and even the Floo network was less extensive than it used to be. Each wizarding home had become a solitary outpost in the struggle. Security was very tight, not only because of Harry's presence, but because the Weasley family in general was very active in the fight against Voldemort.

After unpacking his trunk, making sure both Ginny's and Sirius' gifts remained well hidden, Harry decided to seek out Ginny and ask her about the necklace. He hesitated on the landing in front of her bedroom door, which was tightly shut, a silent barrier to her domain. Was she even in there? If she was, it didn't look as if she wanted to be disturbed. He raised a hand to knock anyway, but voices rising from below stopped him. Perhaps she was downstairs after all.

Continuing down towards the kitchen, he stopped on the threshold, as he recognised Mrs Weasley's worried voice. "…and she didn't eat more than two bites at lunch." Harry knew immediately whom Mrs. Weasley was discussing.

"What more can we do, Molly? She refuses to tell us what's going on with her," Mr Weasley's voice replied. Harry thought this was rather odd, as it was the middle of the afternoon, and Mr Weasley ought to be at the Ministry still.

"She's shut herself up in her room now. I haven't seen her since. Arthur, this has been going on all summer. I think you should have a talk with her."

Harry leaned forward to look into the kitchen and saw Mrs Weasley kneeling in front of the fireplace. She was obviously communicating with her husband through the fire. He experienced a twinge of guilt at eavesdropping, but he was too curious to see what he could find out to stop."

"I'll try." Mr. Weasley sounded resigned. "But I don't see where it's going to get us."

"Arthur, she's been using your shed. Surely you have a right to know what for."

"She told me it was for some project she had to do over the holidays as homework."

"And I don't understand how you could accept that explanation." Mrs Weasley's voice had gone rather shrill. "You know quite well she's not supposed to use magic outside school. What if she'd been Muggle-born? She couldn't have done any sort of school work involving magic without being caught at it. School work indeed!"

Whatever Mr Weasley's reply was, Harry was unable to hear it. He imagined that Mr Weasley had muttered something apologetic.

"Tonight's Harry's party, but immediately after it's over, you're going to tell her this has to stop."

Harry decided he'd heard enough. He walked quietly back to the stairs and crossed the floor once more, making a considerable amount of noise. The voices in the kitchen fell silent. With a wave in passing to Mrs Weasley, Harry went outside to enjoy the sunshine and ponder what he'd just heard.

*

Harry's birthday supper was held out in the garden. The celebrants might have been able to fit themselves around the kitchen table, but they would have been overly crowded, and the evening was warm and pleasant. Percy and Penelope had arrived at about the same time as Mr Weasley came home from work. They were closely followed by Fred and George, who arrived with a great deal of noise bearing a large quantity of Dr Filibuster's Fireworks. Ginny put in an appearance not long afterward, having changed into robes and looking a good deal more refreshed than she had earlier. She had seemingly spent the afternoon napping.

After consuming a large slice of gooey, home-made chocolate cake, Harry turned to his birthday presents. Mrs Weasley had knit him a cotton jumper in Gryffindor colours of deep red and gold, as well as several pair of socks. Ron had got him a Chudley Cannons T-shirt, on which an orange-robed Chaser could be seen scoring a spectacular goal… over and over and over; the image on the shirt moved, just as wizarding photographs did.

Harry was quite pleased. "Thanks! I really need some new clothes," he said, looking ruefully down at his oversized sweatshirt and too short jeans. "I can't wait to get rid of these."

"You can get some new things when we go into Diagon Alley for your school things, dear," put in Mrs Weasley.

Harry considered. What he really wanted were some proper Muggle clothes, and he admitted as much. "Isn't there anywhere I could get some in Ottery St. Catchpole?" he asked.

"Not a whole lot of choice in the village," said George. "If you want something really fashionable, you've got to go to London." Everyone stared at George. The patterned shirt he was wearing had a shade of fuchsia in it that clashed horribly with his hair. "What? I'm not allowed to have an opinion on fashion? I'll have you know I bought this in a very posh shop in Oxford Street."

Fred, who was seated next to Harry, rolled his eyes and told him in a confidential tone, "You don't know how many times I've tried to hide that monstrosity. He keeps finding it, though." Now that the twins were making their own money, they had proven to have quite divergent taste, but it was much easier to tell them apart than it used to be.

"Right," said Harry, as he pulled the twins' present towards him with a certain amount of trepidation. As he hesitated before beginning to undo the wrapping, Fred said, "Don't worry. It won't explode. Not that one, anyway."

"Nah, we save the exploding presents for Percy," added George. Ron had written to Harry describing how the twins had caused a stir at Percy and Penelope's wedding last summer by giving them a gift that had blown apart when it was unwrapped, showering the room with some Muggle articles of rather dubious origin. Ron had heard mention of them shopping for the gift in Soho. The twins had escaped their mother's wrath by making the excuse that Percy was supposed to unwrap that particular box on his honeymoon.

Harry opened the twins' present and found an assortment of Zonko's items, including some that weren't yet available to the general public. A smirking Fred pointed out a prototype Lock-picker, "guaranteed to open any lock". "Reckon you can make use of this at Hogwarts," he said with a nudge. "I know I would have loved to have one while I was there."

The twins themselves had shown Harry how to pick lock using a hairpin several years previous, but the hairpin method didn't work on the magical locks that could be found at Hogwarts.

Harry thanked the twins and turned to his last package. It was from Hermione, and from its shape Harry could tell it was a book. He raised an eyebrow at her, as he undid the wrapping. He thought her facial expression was a bit suspect--she looked quite pleased with herself about something--especially when he pulled out a copy of Hogwarts: A History.

"Erm, thanks, Hermione." He knew he didn't sound very convincing.

Ron turned to her. "You think you're going to convince him to read that just because you gave it to him for his birthday?" he asked with a laugh.

"I'll have you know there's loads of useful information in that book, Ron. If you'd only give it a try, you might like it. Aren't you going to open it, Harry? I've inscribed it."

With the eyes of the Weasley family upon him, Harry felt it would be impolite to refuse, so he opened the tome to the flyleaf and burst out laughing. He looked up at Hermione whose eyes were sparkling with mischief. Ron looked from one to the other. "What's going on?"

"Should I show him?"

"I don't know," Hermione replied airily. "He's never shown sufficient interest in the past."

"Give that here." Ron took the volume out of Harry's hands. He stared at the flyleaf for a moment, before giving Hermione a look of admiration. "Looks as if I've been had. What is that?"

"The cover magically changes to whatever title you want it to say with the proper spell. The introduction tells how to do it."

"Cool. Thanks, Hermione." Harry definitely thought a copy of Aurors' Secrets For Getting the Jump On Dark Wizards would be more useful to him than Hogwarts: A History.

Now that the presents were out of the way, it was fully dark, and the twins were preparing their fireworks display. Harry wanted to have a private word with Ginny, but he couldn't see how he'd accomplish it with the majority of her family about. Ginny herself solved this problem. As everyone placed their chairs to view the spectacle, Harry heard a soft voice in his ear.

"Meet me in my dad's shed after the party breaks up. I have something important to tell you." Harry wondered why he shivered at the feeling of her breath in his ear: the evening was quite warm.

He turned and was a bit startled to see Ginny standing so closely. "Yeah, all right."

"Bring your present." She looked at him meaningfully, and he knew which present she was referring to.

Harry was suddenly anxious for the fireworks to be over. She was going to answer his questions. For a moment, he wondered how he was going to sneak up to Ron's room and retrieve the necklace undetected. He'd known instinctively that the meeting with Ginny was meant to be kept secret. There was always the invisibility cloak, as long as he could get away on the excuse of being ready to retire for the night. As long as Ron didn't take it into his head to go to bed early as well. He stole a glance at his best friend and surmised this might not prove to be such an obstacle. Ron looked quite cosy with Hermione at the moment, and Harry could only hope they decided to make a late evening of it.

Not long after the fireworks display ended, Percy and Penelope took their leave; Percy claimed to have an early appointment at the Ministry the following day. Harry took advantage of the diversion to steal up to Ron's room, bringing his new presents, so that if anyone were to ask what he was doing up there, he could pretend to be putting them away. Moving quickly, he withdrew the invisibility cloak and the necklace from his trunk. He put his new gifts in the trunk, placing the book Hermione had given him on top of Sirius' book. Rolling the invisibility cloak into a small bundle, he hid it under Dudley's old sweatshirt, where it was easily lost in the folds of excess fabric, and went back down to the gathering.

Fred and George seemed to be getting ready to leave, as well. Ron and Hermione had moved to a bench set away from the house. Ginny had disappeared. Harry said good night to the twins and then began edging his way towards a corner of the house where he could don the invisibility cloak unobserved. Once he was invisible, he made his way around the edge of the yard towards Mr Weasley's shed.

It was very dark inside the shed, but Harry did not light his wand, since that might draw unwanted attention. Harry had never really been in here before, and he wasn't entirely sure what to expect. He had visions of tables littered with Mr Weasley's plug collection and any number of other Muggle gadgets in varying states of dismantlement. Harry removed the invisibility cloak and took a tentative step forward, whispering hoarsely, "Ginny? You in here?"

"Over here," a voice replied.

"I can't see a thing," he said softly, trying to move towards the sound of Ginny's voice but finding his way blocked by something large and metallic. He realised it was a washing machine as he felt his way around it. "Where are you?" he asked again so he wouldn't miss her in the dark.

"Here." Her voice, and he felt a hand reach out and take his arm. "Did you bring it?" she asked, as she led him to the back of the shed.

"Yeah, it's in my pocket." It was a bit unnerving talking to Ginny's disembodied voice; he couldn't see her face in the dark, and she'd let go of his arm. "Can't we have some light in here?"

"No, I don't want anybody to find out."

"Find out what? Just what have you been up to? Ron said you've been acting strangely all summer."

Harry heard her let out a breath in an exasperated manner. "Fat lot he knows. Give me the necklace."

Harry fumbled in his pocket and pulled the chain out. Their hands struck each other clumsily as he blindly tried to hand it to her. "What are you going to do?"

"You'll see."

"No, I won't," he thought. "It's pitch black in here." He didn't think she'd appreciate him voicing that thought aloud, and so he kept it to himself. He heard the sound of her robes rustling, and in the next moment, she was muttering some words he couldn't quite make out. It was an incantation, for there was a fleeting jet of golden sparks from her wand, and Harry had the briefest glimpse of her brow furrowed in concentration before they were both plunged into total darkness once more. He felt, rather than saw, the tension go out of her; it was as if she'd sagged slightly in relief.

"There," she said. "It's ready. Now the only thing left is to put it on you."

"Wait. Are you going to tell me what this is all about?"

To his surprise, she giggled. "It's silly, really."

"What is?" He was beginning to wonder if she wasn't playing some sort of elaborate trick on him. Perhaps the twins had put her up to it, although from what he'd learned from Ron, she was fully capable of dreaming this up on her own.

"This whole thing. It likely won't work."

"What is it?"

"It's a talisman." Harry raised his eyebrows, but she couldn't see that in the dark. She may have sensed his reaction, for she continued. "It's supposed to have protective properties. I put that in my note, didn't I?"

"Yes, but…"

"Last year in Defence Against the Dark Arts I had to do some research on protective talismans. I discovered that crystals like this one are particularly effective. And well, I read a few more things about it and decided to try it. It probably won't work, though."

"Why not?"

"Because for it to work properly, I had to create the gem first through magic. And not everyone can create a proper one. Anyone can try and come up with something but not necessarily one that will hold the protective spell. I've done all the steps though. All that's left is for you to wear it."

Harry hardly knew what to say to her. A number of questions raised themselves in his mind--first and foremost was why she'd done this for him--but he wasn't sure if he dared voice that one. So instead he asked, "How did you manage to make this without getting a letter from the Improper Use of Magic Office? We aren't supposed to use magic outside school."

"Same way the twins always got away with it. The Improper Use of Magic Office relies on wizards ratting on other wizards a good deal of the time. They're also more concerned with hiding magic from Muggles than anything else, so they pay more attention to Muggle-borns. They expect magic to be used at the Burrow on a regular basis. They don't expect it at Hermione's house, say, or your uncle's. Plus, that office has a lot more on its plate than catching me with the war on."

Harry supposed this made sense. He also thought it must be helpful to come from a Ministry family in Ginny's case. He asked another question. "Why did you send it to me last night, if you still had a spell to perform over it?"

"You needed to touch it before I performed the final spell. Now it won't work for anyone else but you. That's one reason why it needed to be kept a secret. It still does, though."

"Why?"

"Why do you think?" A note of irritation crept into her voice. "What do you think my brothers would say if they knew?" She paused for a breath before continuing in a calmer tone. "Come here. I have to put this on you."

Harry's heart seemed to beat a bit faster when he stepped closer to her. He felt her hands at the back of his neck, as she fumbled a bit with the clasp. The chain was very fine, and she was obviously having difficulty in the dark, but he found himself wishing she'd hurry up. Her proximity to him and the brush of her fingers against the nape of his neck were doing odd things to his stomach, and while the feeling wasn't exactly unpleasant, it was disturbing somehow.

It didn't help matters when she lifted up the neckband of his sweatshirt and slipped the gem inside. Her fingers had made more contact with his skin, and he suddenly found the evening unaccountably warm. He wished he could see her face; it might give him some clue as to what she was thinking, to what had motivated her to do this for him.

He gathered his courage. "Ginny," he said, as she stepped back at last. "Why did you do this for me?"

She didn't reply right away, and Harry imagined she'd gone rather red in the face. She might have been biting her lip, as well. Finally, he heard her draw in a breath. "Harry, I…" she began, but she never had a chance to finish.

The door to the shed burst open, and Fred's voice was heard. "Ginny? Are you in here? Mum's been looking all over."

Harry sensed Ginny stiffen beside him. Both of them remained silent.

"Come on, Gin… Lumos!" Fred had lit his wand, and the shadows fled to the corners. They could see his face now. It was broadening in a knowing grin. "Have I interrupted something? Giving Harry a special present, are we?"

"I thought you'd gone home," Ginny remarked testily.

"Not yet…" He turned and shouted outside. "Hey, George! Come see what I've found!"

Harry heard Ginny swearing under her breath. He'd never realised she had such an extensive vocabulary.

"Oh, now look at this!" George had arrived, and he sounded very gleeful. "Isn't this cosy?"

"Very," Fred replied. "Looks like we need to stay and keep an eye on things here. One of us can chaperone Ron and the other these two. What do you say we flip for it?" He began to dig in his pocket, and drew out a Knut. "Can't have these kids getting up to any funny business, after all."

"Oh, get stuffed, the both of you!" Ginny flared at her brothers. "What did Mum want?"

"Dunno, but maybe she needs to have a talk with you," Fred replied. "She has told you babies don't grow in the cabbage patch, hasn't she?"

"Yeah, and she also told me you two got dropped on your heads quite a few times when you were babies. Explains a lot, if you ask me." Ginny pushed by the twins left the shed, leaving Harry alone with Fred and George.

"Guess I'll be going in, too. It's been along day." Harry feigned a loud yawn.

"Not so fast," said George. He and his brother now stood shoulder to shoulder in the door, making quite an effective barrier. Fred and George exchanged a look. "I think we need to give you a little advice about girls first."

Fred came over to Harry and put a solicitous arm around his shoulder. "Harry, my boy, there are some things you do and some things you don't do when it comes to finding a good spot to snog in."

Harry wanted to protest that nothing of the sort was going on, but George took up immediately where his twin left off. "Take this shed, here. Nice and dark, but romantic? To be brutally honest, you could do better, mate."

Harry knew he ought to be relieved that the twins were trying to give him advice, rather than beating the stuffing out of him, but he still felt obliged to set the record straight. "Ginny and I weren't snogging."

Fred and George exchanged a sceptical look. "What were you doing then?" asked Fred, raising an eyebrow.

Bugger! Harry couldn't exactly admit to that, either. It would be at least as incriminating in the twins' eyes. "Erm…" he hedged.

"Thought so," said the twins together.

"Look, Harry," continued Fred. "We're not going to pull out the old 'she's our little sister, so watch your step' act on you. It's tired."

"Overdone," supplied George.

"Not our style. Besides, we know you'd never do anything to hurt her."

"Nah, Ron would kill you."

"If there was anything left of you after Ginny got through with you, that is."

The twins turned to go, leaving Harry to feel as if he'd just been trampled by a herd of stampeding Hippogriffs. He remained in the shed, hearing the twins shouting a very loud good night to Ron and Hermione, who must still have been occupying the garden bench.

In the next moment there was a very loud explosion. Harry ran to the door of the shed, banging into the washing machine as he passed. There was just enough moonlight to permit him to see the twins, whose faces and clothes were now blackened and smoking.

"My shirt! It's ruined!" George was crying in outrage.

Fred laughed. "Thank God for small favours. Why didn't you tell me there were more fireworks in the bag. I thought we'd set them all off."

"I thought we had, too. Imagine if that had gone off in the Floo network. No telling where we would have come out."

"No harm done, though. Let's be off."

They went into the house together, Harry following at a distance. As he climbed the steps to Ron's room, he caught a glimpse of Ginny, who was standing in her doorway, a knowing smile on her face. He had a funny feeling she'd managed to avenge herself on her brothers quite satisfactorily.

"Look at this stuff. It's brilliant! What you do want to bet Filch blacklists most of this stuff when they start selling it at Zonko's?"

Ron was looking through the box of joke items the twins had given Harry for his birthday. Harry, wasn't paying a whole lot of attention. He was lying on Ron's bed, staring at the ceiling and pondering the mystery of Ginny's behaviour, which he found rather distracting. Several days had passed since his birthday, and he was no closer working it out.

"What do you suppose this is for?" asked Ron, holding up what looked like a model of a ferret. "It sort of reminds me of Malfoy." He grinned as he bounced the toy animal off his palm.

Harry barely looked up. "No idea."

Ron wasn't paying much attention to Harry, either, set down the model ferret, which uttered a rather rude phrase. "Not a ferret, a Jarvey, then. Just think of the things we can get up to with this…"

Harry stopped listening, as Ron went on enumerating the pranks they could pull in the coming school year. It was afternoon, and Harry hadn't seen Ginny all day. She hadn't appeared at breakfast--Hermione had said she was still asleep--nor had she shown up for lunch. Harry had been waiting for the ideal chance to continue the conversation he and Ginny had begun on his birthday, as he was still extremely curious about why she'd given him the necklace, but he'd barely seen her over the intervening days. He was beginning to suspect what part of her motivation might have been, but he didn't want to jump to any conclusions on that score. The twins really had chosen a bad time to interrupt.

"Harry!" Ron's voice broke in on his thoughts.

"What?"

"I just wanted to know if you minded if I had a look at that book Hermione gave you."

"Oh, right. Help yourself. It's in my trunk." Harry went back to his musings, but it wasn't long before they were interrupted again.

"Harry, who is Dr. Zog?"

Harry looked up to see Ron holding up the book Sirius had given him and froze. He'd completely forgotten about it; now he had a clear memory of placing Hermione's book on top of it the other night. He also remembered that Sirius' gift carried an enormous embarrassment potential with it. He swallowed. "That? That's nothing."

It was too late. Ron was already paging through the book. Harry bit his tongue, knowing any sort of objection would only make the book more interesting to Ron, and hoped Ron would dismiss it as another boring spell book. But luck wasn't with Harry, seemingly. As he watched, he saw Ron's eyes get a bit larger, and the pages start to turn more slowly. The tips of Ron's ears were going red.

"Harry, where did you get this?" Ron asked at last in a deceptively calm voice.

Harry felt his own face heat. "Sirius sent it to me," he mumbled.

Ron broke into a coughing fit. When he'd calmed down, he replied. "Just when were you planning on showing this to me?"

"Well, I haven't had it all that long. I haven't had time yet," Harry hedged.

This was a blatant lie, and Ron wasn't fooled; it had been raining for the past few days, confining everyone to the house. "No need to be embarrassed. Come on, Harry, this is brilliant!" He hesitated a moment, in spite of his contention that there was nothing embarrassing about the subject, before asking, "Do you think I could, erm, you know, borrow it?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at Ron.

"Just for my own information, of course."

"Yeah, sure. I really believe that. But go ahead and borrow it. It's not as if I need it." Harry had the worst luck when it came to girls. His first crush had come to a guilt-filled end when Cho Chang's boyfriend was killed on Voldemort's whim. Since that incident, whenever he'd experienced the nascent pangs of a new crush, he'd deliberately buried them. And if any girl had shown interest in him, he'd been careful to avoid her attention, not because he wasn't interested, but it just seemed easier that way. His life was complicated enough with Voldemort after him, after all.

Ron had turned back to the beginning of the book again, examining it more closely. "I dunno. There's a whole section here for beginners. Tells you how to tell if a girl is interested, and all." Harry hadn't noticed that the other night. Perhaps it was worth having a closer look.

Then the full meaning of what Ron had just said struck him. "And you're such an expert? Remind me. How long did it take you to notice Hermione was interested in you?"

Ron looked up from what must have been a particularly interesting page. His ears were redder than ever. "That doesn't count. Hermione isn't a normal girl. She's exceptional. She's subtle."

Harry laughed. "She had to resort to making the first move herself, Ron. Practically had to hit you over the head with it."

A knock on the door interrupted their conversation. "Harry? Ron? What are you two doing in there?" It was Hermione. Harry and Ron stared at each other for a moment in panic. It went without saying that she would not appreciate the content of Dr Zog's Practical Spells For Wizards. Ron stuffed it back into Harry's trunk, picked up Aurors' Secrets For Getting the Jump On Dark Wizards, shut the trunk lid, and sat down on Harry's camp bed.

"Nothing, Hermione, nothing at all," he called to her.

Hermione opened the door. She looked sceptical, but merely said, "what are the two of you doing up here on such a lovely day?" It had finally stopped raining just before lunch time. "Why aren't you outside playing Quidditch or something?"

"There's only the two of us to play Quidditch," replied Ron, "or are you offering to play too?"

"Ron, just what's…"

But Ron cut her off. "That's an excellent idea, actually. Let's play Quidditch, boys against girls. Where's Ginny?"

"Ron, you know I'm no good at flying!"

"Oh no, you're not worming out of this now. This was your idea. Come on, let's go." Ron trooped out of the room, followed by Harry, who gave an apologetic shrug to Hermione as he passed. She brought up the rear, obviously dragging her feet.

They found Ginny, looking as if she was almost back to her normal self. She was in a good mood and seemed quite keen on playing a game of Quidditch, much to Hermione's disgruntlement.

In the end they managed to have a good time. With only two players per side, each team was forced to field a Keeper and a Chaser. Ron was the natural choice as the Keeper on the boys' team, since he'd already been Keeper for the Gryffindor house team for the previous two years. If Hermione thought it unfair that she have to try and score on Ron, she was a good sport about it. Ginny made quite a good Keeper herself, and Harry couldn't help but notice the look of intense concentration on her face as he bore down on her with the apple they were using as a Quaffle. Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes flashed, and the smile that broadened over her face each time she made a save were all rather distracting. Harry told himself his lack of success at scoring a goal was due to the fact that he wasn't normally a Chaser.

Hermione had managed to catch the apple and was flying rather unsteadily towards Ron once more. She tilted sideways on her broom, narrowly missing a nasty spill, in her attempt to throw the apple into the makeshift goal they had rigged up. Ron caught it easily and lobbed it to Harry, who sped off towards the opposite end of the orchard. Ginny was waiting for him, guarding her goal as if she'd been playing on the house team since her second year. She was doing it again, biting her lip, as she anticipated Harry's feint, and catching the apple easily when he did throw it in earnest.

Harry caught her eye, and she hesitated. "You're quite good, you know," he blurted out without thinking. "Why haven't you ever tried out for the team?"

Ginny's flushed face went even redder. "You don't need me. You have Ron as Keeper."

"We can always use a reserve, and Ron won't be at school next year. You should try out. We could train you up to take his place next year."

"Better ask Ron about that first. He's captain."

"It shouldn't be a problem, should it?"

"What's the hold up?" Ron had flown over to join them. He hovered in mid-air looking from Harry to Ginny, his face alight with curiosity.

"Erm…" Harry felt awkward. It was bad enough he'd blurted out the first thing he'd had on his mind to Ginny. "Ginny just made a good save is all."

Ron merely shrugged.

Harry turned to him, suddenly irritated at Ron's indifference. "Why didn't you tell me Ginny was about as good a Keeper as you? We need to think about the future of the team. You and I won't be around next year."

"Ginny's never really played. Playing for fun at home isn't quite the same as a real match."

"Shouldn't she have the chance to try out?"

"Would you two please stop discussing me as if I weren't even here?" Ginny was glaring at both Harry and Ron. "Perhaps I'm not interested. Did that ever cross your minds? I'm tired of this, anyway." And she pointed her broom towards the ground, landed, and headed off towards the house on foot, leaving Harry and Ron to stare at each other in bewilderment.

"Think there's anything in that book you got from Sirius about figuring girls out?" Ron asked.

"What book?" Hermione had managed to fly over to them at last, having had some difficulty controlling her broom.

"Nothing," both boys replied at the same time, perhaps a bit too quickly.

Hermione looked from one to the other. "Come on," said Ron, before she could voice the suspicion that showed all too obviously on her face. "Let's go see if there's anything to eat. I'm starved."

*

As the month of August passed, Harry noticed just how much time Ron and Hermione spent together. He supposed he should be used to the idea by now, but this was different than being at school, where there were a lot of other people his age with whom he could pass the time. School also meant other distractions, such as Quidditch practice and homework. There was simply a lot less to do at the Burrow than there was at Hogwarts, and Harry felt more and more like the odd man out when he was around his friends.

The previous summer Hermione had been allowed to visit Ron at the Burrow, and Harry reckoned they'd become used to occupying themselves as a couple then. Harry had had to spend the entire holiday at the Dursleys'. Indeed, this was his first visit to the Weasleys since the week he'd spent here after fourth year. The situation in the wizarding world had been deemed too dangerous to allow him to leave the magical protection afforded by his relatives.

This year circumstances were hardly better, but there was one important difference. Harry was of age now. According to Professor Dumbledore, whatever the nature of the magical protection was at Privet Drive, it was no longer effective after Harry's seventeenth birthday. So he was as safe here at the Weasleys' as he would have been anywhere.

But things just weren't the same now that he was seventeen. His best friends were paired off, and he had no one. This had been his own choice, but as the summer wore on, it weighed ever more heavily on his mind. Ginny was not helping matters. He found himself watching her when he thought no one was paying attention. He wondered why he'd never noticed before the way her hair caught the light and radiated back so many shades of red. And she'd caught him looking a time or two. Sometimes she held his gaze for a moment before looking away, causing his heart rate to speed up.

"Morning, Harry!"

Harry was startled out of his reverie, as Ginny took a seat beside him, tossing her hair back. Did she do that on purpose? he wondered a bit irritably. He felt his cheeks heat.

"Morning," he mumbled back, staring into his bowl of porridge. In the two odd weeks that had passed since his birthday, he still hadn't asked her about her gift. It was becoming more and more a matter of his no longer being certain he was ready to hear the answer.

Harry was saved from having to make further conversation with her by the arrival of a strange owl bearing a thick envelope, which Ron took. It was their school letters. Ron kept two of the letters in his possession, his own and Hermione's. Hermione made a grab for her letter, but Ron held it out of her reach.

"Ron!" she protested. "That's my letter!"

Ron grinned and held the parchment higher. "No need to read it. We all know what it says." He turned away from her so he could unfold the parchment. A badge clattered out of it onto the table. "Just as I thought," Ron crowed. "Head girl! You're not going to turn into Percy on us, are you?" His words were teasing, but the pride in his tone was unmistakable.

"If I do turn into Percy, won't you be in trouble?" she replied, picking up her head girl badge and finally succeeding in snatching the letter from Ron.

"I don't suppose I fancy dating my brother. I'll just have to keep you in line. Or not."

Harry looked quickly down at his own letter to avoid having to watch his two friends send each other such significant looks. On the one hand he was happy for them, but on the other they could make him uncomfortable. At times he felt like an intruder. He read over his school list; there were only two texts on it:

The Standard Book of Spells, grade 7, by Miranda Goshawk

The NEWTs: Preparing Yourself For the Worst, by Alphonse Ennui-Payne

Harry knew he'd have to get some new school robes with all the growing he'd done the previous year, and there was still the question of some ordinary clothes that actually fit him. He hadn't had an opportunity to bring that subject up yet.

Mrs Weasley was looking over Ginny's list. "We're going to have to plan to get your school things soon."

Ginny spoke up. "Mum, I've still got that assignment for Muggle Studies."

"What's that, dear?" asked Mrs Weasley distractedly, as she looked over Ron's list. No doubt she was calculating how much school supplies were going to cost the family this year.

Harry looked over in time to see Ginny roll her eyes. "Mum, I told you about this at the beginning of the holiday. I have to write an essay on how the Underground works."

"Can't you ask your father how it works?"

Ginny heaved a sigh. "Mum, Dad only thinks he knows a lot about Muggles."

Mrs Weasley looked as if she might want to defend her husband but seemed to realise it was a lost cause in this instance. "Well," she began, looking around. Her gaze landed on Hermione. "Hermione is Muggle-born. She can tell you. You've been on the Underground, haven't you, dear?"

"Yes, of course," replied Hermione, "but…"

Ginny cut across her. "Mum, it's not the same thing if Hermione tells me about it. I want to experience it for myself. I'll get a much better mark that way."

Mrs Weasley was adamant. "No. It's too dangerous."

"I'm not a baby, Mum," Ginny protested. "Why is it any more dangerous for me than it would be for all the Muggles who use it every day?"

"You're a witch, Ginny. Our world is at war."

"So wouldn't the Muggle world be safer? Wouldn't it be the perfect place to hide? How would anyone know I was a witch?"

"Because you look like one?" Ron's joke fell quite flat, and Harry was sure Hermione had stepped on his foot under the table, judging from the way Ron winced.

Ginny glared at her brother a moment before continuing. "I'd dress as a Muggle, of course, and I wouldn't go off by myself. Hermione's been on the Underground. I'll bet Harry has, too." She looked at Harry pleadingly for support.

"Yeah, I have," Harry put in. "Hagrid took me on the Underground the first time we went to Diagon Alley." They all fell silent for a moment at the mention of the former Care of Magical Creatures Teacher. He had been an early casualty of the war.

But Mrs Weasley wasn't swayed by their argument. "No, I don't like it. Ginny, you'll just have to find a way to write your essay without first-hand experience." Ginny opened her mouth to protest further, but her mother added, "and that's final", before she could get another word out.

Harry stole occasional glances at Ginny during the rest of the meal. He could tell from her rigid posture she wasn't happy with the situation, but he was formulating a plan in his mind. He wanted to get out into Muggle London, as well, before school started, and he didn't think the elder Weasleys would be too keen on the idea of him going off into a world that was largely unknown to them when he was supposed to be under their protection. In his opinion, though, Ginny was right. Muggle London shouldn't really pose much of a danger to any of them, just because they were magical. Why would any Death Eater expect to find him, or indeed any of them, in the Muggle world?

After breakfast, Ron and Hermione disappeared outside, while Ginny headed for her room. Harry followed her, catching her up on the landing outside her door. "Wait, Ginny."

"What is it?" She didn't sound very pleased. Harry supposed she was still hacked off with her mother.

"Well…" He hesitated, not sure how to explain this. He was used to planning bouts of rule-breaking with Ron and Hermione, but he'd never done it with Ginny. If he was completely honest with himself, he'd barely even had a normal conversation with her. "It's about your Muggle Studies assignment."

"You're not planning on telling me about your experiences on the Underground with Hagrid, are you?" Ginny must have realised just how harsh this sounded, for she immediately looked down and muttered, "Sorry."

"Erm, no. I have a better idea."

Ginny looked over his shoulder, as if she were expecting to see her mother come up the stairs at any moment. "Come in," she said, entering her room and motioning for him to follow.

Harry stepped forward with a certain reluctance. This was her domain, and he'd never really seen it before. The room was decorated in shades of blue that must have been brighter at some point. Now it just looked faded and slightly shabby, not unlike the rest of the Weasley house. Ginny closed the door, and the sound seemed to echo out into the corridor, then she turned and looked at him expectantly.

"We're going to have to go shopping for our school things soon, right?" he began without preamble. Ginny nodded. "When we go down to Diagon Alley, we'll already be in London. All we'd need to do is lose Ron and Hermione for an hour or two…"

"Do you mean sneak off on our own?"

"Yeah. I don't think it'll be much of a problem. They go off on their own often enough these days. We'd just need to make up an excuse to leave them…"

"…and go out through the Leaky Cauldron," Ginny finished for him. "But why? What do you want to go off into London for?"

Harry looked down at his ill-fitting clothes. "I think I need some new things, don't you? Something that fits."

Ginny burst out laughing. "You want to go shopping?" she asked incredulously.

"Yeah. Is there anything wrong with that?"

"Don't look so hurt. I just wasn't expecting you to say that. I mean you said something at your birthday party, but I didn't think you'd take George seriously."

"Well, I wasn't planning on looking up the same shop he went to, but as long as we're going into London, and you need to do some research, I thought we could sort of kill two birds with one stone."

Harry found himself quite looking forward to the outing. He didn't question the reason why; pulling one over on Ron and Hermione seemed reason enough. That he'd be going off somewhere alone with Ginny never even entered into the equation. He hoped she'd just get on with it and agree to the plan.

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes," she said finally. "I suppose it would. But won't we have to plan this a bit more? I don't know where the shops are in London."

Harry was forced to admit he didn't know either, but George had mentioned Oxford Street. "Look, do you have a map or anything in your Muggle Studies book?"

"Yeah. Just a moment."

She went over to where her school bag was set on a small desk in the corner near the window. Rifling through it, she withdrew a copy of Home Life and Social Habits of British Muggles and moved to sit on her bed, leaving a space for Harry to sit down beside her if he chose to. He hesitated, suddenly aware that they were alone in her bedroom with the door closed. Sitting on her bed next to her seemed so intimate, somehow.

"What do you make of this?" Ginny's voice intruded on his thoughts. She was gesturing towards the textbook. She obviously wanted him to sit with her, so he could see whatever she was looking at. Why was this so hard? Why was his face beginning to heat? He sat down next to her, consciously avoiding physical contact. For some reason the thought of their thighs brushing against each other was making his palms go sweaty.

He had to lean towards her more than he'd expected to see the book. On the page he saw a street map of London, but this was no ordinary map like the ones he'd seen Uncle Vernon use. As he watched, the lines on it blurred and changed. He realised after a few moments that the map magically showed whatever location the viewer had in mind. He thought of the Houses of Parliament, and the map focused on Westminster, clearly demarcating the location along the Thames. Then for some reason he thought of the Royal Albert Hall, and the lines shifted again until Harry could see it marked off near Hyde Park. Finally, he thought of the Leaky Cauldron, and saw Charing Cross Road come into view on the map.

"This is absolutely brilliant! But will it show us the Underground?"

As if in answer to his question, the map changed once more. The streets disappeared entirely, and in their place a number of different coloured intersecting lines came into view. It looked very confusing. He wondered how Hagrid had managed to negotiate the bewildering maze. Upon closer inspection, however, he noticed a stop marked Charing Cross. He pointed it out to Ginny.

"This must be near the Leaky Cauldron. It has the same name as the street where the Leaky Cauldron is." Sure enough, the map responded to his thoughts and showed the location of the wizarding pub.

"Looks as if Tottenham Court Road is closer though," commented Ginny. She was leaning over the map now, as well, and Harry noticed her head was very close to his.

Harry traced a red line with his finger. "And the next stop over is called Oxford Circus. Do you think Oxford Street might be near there?"

"It would make sense." The map corroborated Ginny's observation, by showing that Oxford Street was indeed very handy to the Oxford Circus stop. In fact, Oxford Street reached as far as Tottenham Court Road. Ginny giggled. "It looks as if we wouldn't need to take the Underground at all. We could walk."

"Or we could take the tube to another stop, maybe Bond Street, and walk back. Looks like we'd have enough time to do it, anyway. It's not like we have to go all the way out to"--Harry traced the red line to its very end with his finger--"Epping."

"Now all we need is a convincing story to feed Ron and Hermione, so we can ditch them."

Harry thought she looked as if she had something in mind. Her brown eyes had a mischievous glint to them. "Have you got something specific in mind?" he asked with a smile.

"Er, no," Ginny admitted. "If we had to fool just Ron by himself, I'd stand a chance, but we have to take Hermione into consideration here."

"True. I suppose we could always wait until we're in Diagon Alley and spring it on them."

"Do you think they'll let us get away with that?"

Harry grinned at her. "We won't give them a choice."

It was only after he'd left her room, their plans finalised that Harry realised he'd missed the perfect opportunity to ask Ginny about her gift.

Harry stared morosely into his bowl of cereal. The headlines in the Daily Prophet announced another horrific Death Eater attack, this time in Lancashire. This sort of headline had been an almost-daily occurrence since Harry's arrival at the Burrow, but he was beginning to feel much odder than usual about the news. It made him feel sick to his stomach, as it always had. He couldn't escape the underlying feeling that he'd had a hand in this, if indirectly. If Voldemort hadn't used Harry's blood to re-embody himself… Harry gave himself a mental shake. He knew such thinking was unproductive, but the thoughts insisted on haunting him in spite of this.

But in addition to the feelings of guilt, something strange was happening. Ever since his arrival at the Burrow his scar had ceased to bother him as much as it used to. It still gave the occasional twinge but nothing on the scale it ought to with all the attacks going on. Harry wondered what this might mean, but no solution suggested itself. Were the attacks being carried out by someone other than Voldemort? Certainly any attacks in Europe were being carried out by lackeys--he couldn't be everywhere at once--but Lancashire? Harry ought to have sensed that, yet he'd had no idea anything had happened until he'd come down to breakfast and seen the newspaper.

"I don't like it one bit," Mrs Weasley was tutting. "I don't think you should go into Diagon Alley today."

Ron looked up, his arm buried to the elbow in a box of Quidditch Crunch, from which he was trying to extract the collector card (he was missing Arthur Frampton, a Chudley Cannons Chaser, and once he'd got that one, he'd have the whole team). "Come on, Mum, we'll be fine. Why should today be worse than any other?"

Hermione, who'd been looking askance at Ron while he dug through the cereal, came to his defence. "Diagon Alley is well protected with wards, and the Ministry has Aurors on patrol 24 hours a day."

"I know, dear, but I still don't like it. It's bad enough with Arthur and Percy there every day and Bill and Charlie so far away with barely a word." Harry knew that post owls to the continent were having more and more difficulty getting through. He didn't expect much word from Sirius while he was there.

"Mum, all the attacks have been miles away from London, and we have to get our school supplies some time." No one believed Ron wanted to buy his school books that badly, and everyone stared at him.

"Yes, well it will be good to get away from the house," put in Hermione to cover the awkward moment. "We'll hardly be in more danger there than here. We'll have our Portkeys," she added soothingly. In these uncertain times, many witches and wizards carried Portkeys, which could be activated for emergency use with a tap of the wand. Mr Weasley had prepared four of them, which would transport any of them immediately back to the Burrow if necessary, for today's outing.

"And if it wasn't for that, I wouldn't think of letting you go," said Mrs Weasley, a note of finality in her voice. "You'll all stick together, won't you?"

"Of course, Mum," said Ron, perhaps a bit too quickly, while Harry and Ginny exchanged a guilty look. Harry noticed Hermione also looked uncomfortable and wondered what she and Ron had up their sleeves. Perhaps it would be easier than he expected to lose them. Luckily for all of them, Mrs Weasley's back was turned, and she missed their expressions.

Ginny rose from the table and excused herself. Harry watched the back of her dressing gown retreat towards the stairs until it disappeared and then turned back to his bowl of Quidditch Crunch. He wasn't very hungry, but he forced himself to eat several spoonfuls, anyway. Ron plunged his hand back into the cereal box, letting out a cry of triumph, as he withdrew the collector's card. His face fell for a moment in disappointment, but Harry saw his eyes glint a second later.

"Here," he said, handing the card to Hermione. "You may as well keep this one."

Hermione frowned slightly as she took the card. "What would I… Oh, Ron! Honestly!" But she was laughing as she said it. Harry leaned over and saw Viktor Krum's surly face scowling up at him. After a few minutes, Harry, Ron and Hermione had all finished their breakfast and got up from the table to get dressed.

Harry was collecting his things for a quick shower when Ron stopped him. "Listen, Harry, do you mind if Hermione and I, well, do our own thing today?" His ears were going red.

"Er, no, I suppose not." Harry wondered what they could possibly get up to in Diagon Alley, and he asked.

Ron looked very uncomfortable for a moment. "Oh, nothing much. It's just that there's not very much chance to be alone here at home with Mum hovering about, and when we get back to school, there's not a whole lot of places we can go either." Ron gave Harry a sort of pleading look.

Harry couldn't imagine anywhere in Diagon Alley they could very well go for privacy, either, but this fit in too well with his plans to begin pointing out flaws.

"I'm sorry if that leaves you stuck with Ginny," Ron added.

"I don't mind, really." This was perfect. Now all Harry had to do was be careful no one, especially Ron and Hermione, spotted him and Ginny leaving Diagon Alley.

The thought of his impending excursion into the Muggle world reminded Harry of something else. "Ron? Would you mind if I borrowed a pair of jeans?" Ron raised an eyebrow at him, before turning to the mirror to comb his hair. "Well, they'd fit better than what I've got." He held up a pair of Dudley's old trousers. "Even if I do have to turn them up."

"Planning on borrowing my trousers all year then?"

"Erm, no. I've got that taken care of. I just need these for today."

Harry hoped fervently that Ron wouldn't ask any tricky questions, but Ron was obviously not giving the matter much thought. He was too busy trying to make his hair lie just so. Once he was satisfied, he took a small bottle from the top of his chest of drawers, poured something into his hand and began to pat his face. Harry sniffed suspiciously. "Is that after-shave?"

Ron's reflection looked back at him from the mirror. "So what if it is?"

Harry was tempted to bring up Hagrid's behaviour during their fourth year when Madame Maxime was a guest at Hogwarts but thought better of it. At least Ron wasn't trying to slick his hair down with axle grease. "Nothing," Harry said, and he beat a hasty retreat down the stairs towards the bathroom.

A short while later Harry found himself back in the kitchen along with Ron, Hermione and Ginny. Mrs Weasley was fussing again, handing out Portkeys and making last minute admonitions. Finally, Ginny had had enough. "Honestly, Mum, we're not babies anymore!"

She put her Portkey in the pocket of the summer dress she was wearing. Harry was thankful that the younger generation of Weasleys typically wore Muggle-style clothing over the summer holiday. It would certainly have made for some interesting questions from her mother otherwise. Ginny turned and took a battered flowerpot from the mantelpiece, pulled out a pinch of Floo Powder and with a cry of, "Diagon Alley!" was soon whooshed out of site. Ron and Hermione followed suit, but when it was Harry's turn, Mrs Weasley held him back a moment. "You will be careful, Harry, dear?"

Harry found her concern quite touching, but he didn't let it show. "Sure, Mrs Weasley. Nothing's going to happen. See you later!"

He threw a pinch of Floo Powder into the grate and stepped into the emerald flames. Soon he was whirling past a blur of successive fireplaces until he suddenly came out at the Leaky Cauldron. Keeping a firm hold on his glasses, he stumbled forward into Ron, who caught him.

"Where shall we be off to first?" he asked.

"Gringott's, of course," replied Hermione. "I have to exchange money."

"Right," said Harry. He'd have to exchange money, as well, but in the other direction: Galleons for pounds. And he wouldn't be able to do it in front of Ron and Hermione without arousing their suspicions. He'd have to come back to the bank later with Ginny.

So they made Gringott's their first stop. Hermione went to the counter, and Harry watched discreetly as she counted out five twenty-pound notes. The goblin made some rapid calculations and counted 28 Galleons back to her. "Shouldn't there be more?" she asked.

The goblin gave a nasty sort of smile. "Exchange rate isn't favourable these days, Miss."

Hermione looked as if she wanted to argue, but another goblin came to escort them down to the vaults then. Harry tried to work out how many Galleons to exchange on the ride down, but concentration was difficult, and he only succeeded in making his Quidditch Crunch shift alarmingly in his stomach, making him glad he hadn't eaten more. In the end, he settled on withdrawing fifty Galleons more than usual from his vault. He did so quickly, not wanting Ron to remark on it. He had little idea how much clothes in Muggle shops cost, but he'd heard Aunt Petunia complain often enough about the expense of clothing him. Although he knew this was a ridiculous claim, he imagined this outing could end up costing more than he'd expected.

An hour later, they'd made the rounds of the shops and acquired most of their school supplies. They'd found the atmosphere in the shops very heavy and subdued, no doubt due to the imposing presence of tight-lipped Aurors at almost every turn. In addition things had become a bit awkward between the four teenagers, as it was now time to split up, and yet no one seemed to want to admit it. They stood in front of Florean Fortescue's until Harry finally said, "How about some ice cream?" He wasn't hungry, but he hoped Ron would take his cue.

It was Hermione who spoke up first. "I'm not really hungry, and I'd really rather head back to Fourish and Blott's. You rushed me out of there much too fast earlier."

Harry saw her give Ron a nudge with her elbow. "Uh, yeah," Ron spoke up. "Why don't you two get ice cream, and we'll catch you up in a couple of hours."

Harry dearly would have loved to know where they were planning on spending two hours, but upon reflection he decided it was best not to ask. He stole a glance at Ginny and saw the curiosity evident in her expression. Hoping to head off awkward questions, he quickly agreed with Ron.

Ron and Hermione immediately set off in the direction of Flourish and Blott's. The moment their backs were turned, Ginny asked, "What are they up to?"

"No idea, but let's take advantage of it, shall we?"

"Right." And she began to walk towards the Leaky Cauldron. Harry had to put out a hand to stop her.

"Not so fast. They might spot you. Besides, we need to go back to Gringott's for Muggle money. I don't have any, do you?"

"Oh, yes, I forgot." She sounded distracted. She was looking down at Harry's hand, which was still on her arm. He let go immediately. Making sure Ron and Hermione were now out of sight, they turned and went back to the bank.

The queue was thankfully short, and Harry soon found himself facing the same goblin that had served Hermione. "I'd like to exchange this for Muggle money, please," he said, laying his 50 Galleons on the counter. He sensed Ginny leaning forward beside him, watching the process with interest. He had a feeling she was going to include this in her essay.

The goblin made his calculations, as he had before, and counted out several twenty-pound notes. Harry counted along with him. "A hundred sixty? That can't be right!"

The goblin's smile became fixed, and he added another ten. Harry wanted to protest some more, but the goblin cut him off. "Exchange rate. Bank has to make a profit."

Ginny was tugging on his arm. Harry still felt a bit cheated but stepped away from the counter. As they returned so the street, Ginny said in a low voice, "You did well to ask for more, but you don't want to press your luck. Bill says they always cheat if they think you don't know any better." She giggled. "Dad never used to think to question them until Bill started working for them. But once you do, they remember and treat you fairly, as long as you let them make a bit of profit."

"Right. Next trick will be to get to the Leaky Cauldron without being seen. It would be nice if we knew where Ron and Hermione have got to."

There was no sign of them anywhere, but when Harry and Ginny arrived at the pub, there were Ron and Hermione sitting at a table. They were rather oblivious to everyone else, which was fortunate, because they didn't see Harry and Ginny come in and immediately retreat to the courtyard.

"He's taking her to lunch?" Harry had to struggle not to raise his voice too much in his exasperation. "How are we supposed to sneak past them?"

Ginny stole a glance inside the pub. "Well, they are sort of off in a corner, and they're not paying much attention to anyone. Let's just go through as quickly as we can and hope they don't notice."

Harry thought this was more easily said than done, but luck seemed to be on their side today. They soon found themselves in Charing Cross Road. Harry took a moment to get his bearings. He hadn't taken this particular walk since his eleventh birthday, and that time he'd been with Hagrid. He had no one to part the crowd for him now, and he realised that Ginny would have to stick very close to him so they wouldn't be swept apart. She must have reached the same conclusion at about the same time, for he felt her tuck a hand under his elbow. He met her gaze and saw she looked rather self-conscious. Attempting a reassuring smile and not certain he'd succeeded, he said, "I think we need to go this way," and he started off down the pavement.

After several minutes, they found themselves at the entrance to the Underground. They descended into its mouth, wound through a tunnel and descended some more. In some ways it was like a first year student trying to find his way at Hogwarts but much more crowded, smelly and noisy. When they'd reached the main concourse, Harry pulled Ginny aside and gave her the ten-pound note.

"What's this for?" she asked.

"You're going to buy the tickets. It's your essay."

Ginny muttered something under her breath, in which the words "hanging around Hermione" were easily distinguishable. "What do I do?" she asked a bit louder, sounding slightly panicked.

"You go up to the ticket booth and ask for two single-fare tickets. They'll cost one pound sixty each, so expect change."

When she came back with their tickets, Harry thought she looked a bit more confident. As she handed him his ticket and his change, their hands brushed, and Harry felt strangely aware of the contact.

"Don't lose your ticket," Harry told her at the turnstile, as he demonstrated how to swipe the ticket. "You'll need it again on the way out."

Ginny tried to follow his example but managed to catch the hem of her dress on the turnstile, and Harry caught a glimpse of a good deal more of her legs than he'd ever seen before. They descended even further into the bowels of the Underground on an escalator, passing several buskers on the way. Ginny remarked how excited her father would be to see all of this, and Harry, looking into her eyes, thought he picked up a certain sense of adventure now in her demeanour. When they'd reached the circulating area at the bottom, they had to get their bearings once more. Two lines crossed at this stop, and they needed to be careful to get the right platform.

Ginny looked around a bit wide-eyed, taking it all in. The singing of the buskers filtered down to the platform. There were also a few people hanging about who looked as if they had nowhere better to go. One of them had a dog with him, and he was just sitting there, staring into space, a cup in front of him.

"Harry," Ginny whispered, not wanting to be overheard. "What's that man doing?"

Harry hesitated. This was the uglier side of the Muggle world. From what he'd seen, there were no homeless witches or wizards, and it saddened him to have to admit that there existed such people anywhere. "He's got no job and nowhere else to go. He's hoping people will give him money in his cup so he can get something to eat."

Ginny held out her hand. "Give me some Muggle money. The change from the tickets."

Harry reached into his pocket and gave her some change. He kept a close eye on her as she went over and dropped the coins into his cup.

They didn't have a terribly long wait until the train came, but the platform was quite crowded, and Ginny took Harry's arm again. He felt her cling a bit more tightly as they stepped across the gap into the carriage. The doors closed with a metallic bang. There were no seats available, and they were forced to stand much closer together than they normally would have. Harry fixed his gaze determinedly over her head, thinking it was abnormally warm in the carriage. As the train came into the next stop, the floor gave a sudden lurch, propelling Ginny against his chest. He caught her instinctively and managed to keep his own balance. Their eyes met, and he released her when he saw her face redden.

"Sorry," she mumbled, and Harry felt as if the temperature had risen even more. It was a relief to get out at the next stop.

They emerged into the bustle of Oxford Street, staring about them at the brightly decorated shops. As they began to walk along the pavement, Harry wondered how he was supposed to choose which one to patronise. Ginny tugged at his arm suddenly, laughing and pointing. He turned in the direction she indicated and saw a window full of incredibly garish clothes.

"Think that's where George got his shirt?" she asked.

"Perhaps," replied Harry, "but I don't think we'll go into that one."

He knew he didn't have enough time to go into all the shops, and in the end he chose one at random. He'd never had the opportunity to shop for himself, not in the Muggle world, and he found the selection of goods fairly bewildering. He decided it was probably a good thing he'd brought someone else with him to give him a second opinion. He began to look through a rack of trousers.

"May I help you?"

A strange feminine voice made him jump. Harry turned to see a tall blonde in a very tight outfit looking him up and down appraisingly. He felt uncomfortable under her blue gaze. She had more earrings in her ears than he'd have thought humanly possible, and it made him want to ask her if it had hurt to have all that piercing done, but he refrained and simply replied to her question. "Erm, yeah, I suppose so."

The salesgirl smiled and looked him straight in the eye, before turning to the selection of trousers. She pulled out several styles. "I think you might try these on for starters." She moved to a display of shirts and took out a few. "Then we might find something along these lines to go with them." She was looking him in the eye again, and Harry felt just as warm as he had on the Underground. Then she made matters worse by laying a hand on his arm. Harry swallowed. "You can try those on in there," she said, pointing towards the back of the shop.

Harry turned towards Ginny and was surprised to see her staring stonily at him and the salesgirl. Harry escaped into the dressing room to try on the clothes. The salesgirl put him in mind of something he'd read in Dr Zog's Practical Spells for Wizards last night. His curiosity had got the better of him, and he'd had a look at what Ron had referred to as the beginners' section. If a girl is interested, she will make eye contact and then look away. If this happens repeatedly, it is to be taken as a positive sign. An even better sign is physical contact. Could the salesgirl be interested? Harry had a hard time believing it. She didn't even know him.

"How are you doing in there?" Her voice came through the closed door.

"All right, I guess."

"Are you going to let us see?"

Right. Ginny was out there, too, waiting for him. He couldn't hide in here all day. He came out dressed in a pair of khakis and a dark red shirt, and the salesgirl looked at him with frank admiration.

"Oh, now, that's just lovely."

Harry looked apologetically towards Ginny and saw a similar admiring look on her face, and somehow this affected him more. He coloured again. He tried on a few more things and made his selection based on the amount of money he'd brought with him. Ginny's reaction to various articles of clothing had nothing to do with it. The salesgirl had tried to convince him to try on a pair of leather trousers, but he adamantly drew the line there. It was just as well. He couldn't have afforded them.

It was another relief to pay for his purchases and leave. When they were out in the street once more, it seemed almost natural when Ginny slipped her hand into his. He didn't think to question her actions. If they were to become separated, she'd be lost, and he'd be in a great deal of trouble. He looked at his watch. They were going to be late getting back to Diagon Alley as it was, and there'd be no hiding the fact they'd gone out into the Muggle part of London.

As they walked back towards Charing Cross Road as quickly as they could in the crowded street, Harry cast about for a subject of conversation and finally decided to ask the question that had been on his mind since his birthday. Although they were in the middle of the street, this somehow seemed a safe place to bring the matter up. He doubted any of the Muggles around him much cared one way or the other, since to them he was just another face among the masses.

"Ginny," he began quietly. "About my birthday present." He placed a hand over his shirt to indicate the gem. "You never answered me when I asked you why you made it for me."

She didn't answer him immediately, but when she did, she merely said, "Only because my great prat of a brother interrupted." She was avoiding the issue and they both knew it.

"Will you tell me now?"

"You're going to think I'm stupid."

"No, I won't. I promise." And he squeezed her hand involuntarily.

"It was because of my debt to you."

Harry was surprised at her reply. "Debt?"

"You saved my life, Harry." Her voice was strangely thick, and she paused a moment before going on. "When I read about protective talismans and how if they worked properly they could save a person's life, I thought if it worked, it would be a way to save your life in return. But it's stupid, because it likely won't work." She paused again, and Harry thought she swallowed. "But I couldn't stop myself. There was something driving me to try. It was as if there was a voice inside my head telling me to make it, and it wouldn't shut up until I had." She stopped there in the middle of the pavement and looked directly at him. "Sorry, I told you it was stupid."

She tried to pull her hand away from his, but he tightened his grip. "No, it's not, Ginny. Thank you." He meant every word. There was something touching about her actions, something that made him want to return the favour somehow, to do something nice for her, like take her to lunch.

There was no time though. They were late as it was. They began walking again more quickly this time.

They entered the Leaky Cauldron, half expecting Ron and Hermione to pounce on them and demand explanations, but the pub was eerily quiet and empty. Even Tom the bartender was nowhere in evidence. Harry felt his insides twist. Something had happened. He exchanged a quick glance with Ginny and saw his dread mirrored in her face. Wordlessly they quickened their pace and went through to the courtyard from which they could access Diagon Alley.

Harry tapped the brick, which opened the portal and walked into a war zone. He barely noticed Ginny's gasp of shock, as in the space of a second his brain registered a number of black-robed, hooded figures standing over the bodies of several Aurors. One of the figures turned. Harry could not see his face; it was masked. But his cry of triumph in coming face to face with Harry Potter was unmistakable. Harry knew in that instant that the Death Eater was already anticipating his master's reward when he presented him with his most coveted prize. Harry drew his wand, stepping in front of Ginny to shield her from the onslaught.

"Expelliarmus!" he cried, but his spell was anticipated. The Death Eater leapt aside. Behind him, Harry was vaguely aware of Ginny doing something. He could hear her muttering an incantation, but he missed its significance, as he was completely focussed on the enemy before him.

"Crucio!"

The spell rocketed towards Harry, and he could not leap aside, or it would hit Ginny. He braced himself. At the same time he felt Ginny grab a handful of his shirt. The spell hit him squarely in the chest, but instead of blinding pain, there came a flash of white light. In the moment before he lost consciousness, he felt a jerk behind his navel, and then he knew no more.

Harry awoke to a high-pitched screeching, a noise that reminded him of merpeople's speech and caused his head to pound. He couldn't face opening his eyes just yet, so he kept them closed, as the screeching gradually formed itself into meaningful words.

"…just what were you thinking? And where have Ron and Hermione got to?" It was Mrs Weasley.

Another voice replied but too low for Harry to make out what it was saying. He opened one eye the slightest amount and saw a stain of red. Opening the other eye, he saw Ginny standing not far away from him, facing her mother, who did not look very pleased at the moment. He was lying on the living room sofa at the Burrow. Ginny must have activated her Portkey.

"I knew I shouldn't have let you go into Diagon Alley today!" Mrs Weasley was shouting again, and Harry winced. Her voice was every bit as loud and shrill as it had been in the Howler Ron had got from her second year. Harry had always been under the impression that her voice in the Howler had been magically amplified. "When I saw the clock point to 'mortal peril' just now…"

Harry glanced over at the Weasleys' clock. He could see Ginny's hand pointing to 'home', as was Mrs Weasley's. Several other hands were pointing to 'work', which accounted for everyone but Ron. His hand simply indicated 'hiding'. It worried Harry that Ron and Hermione hadn't returned yet, but at least they didn't seem to be in immediate danger at the moment. But if they were hiding…

"And just where did you go off to, young lady?" Ginny remained obstinately silent. Harry could see their various bags of purchases on the coffee table, the ones from the Muggle shop all too evident. There would be no hiding the fact that they'd not stayed in Diagon Alley. "Oxford Street," sniffed Mrs Weasley, reading the address on Harry's sack. "And what were you doing in Oxford Street?"

"Shopping," replied Ginny. She was doing a rather good job of staring her mother down, Harry thought.

Mrs Weasley looked at her daughter shrewdly. "You went on the Underground, didn't you? After I expressly forbade it."

Ginny merely stared daggers at her mother. Harry decided it was time to speak up. "It was my idea, Mrs Weasley."

"Harry! You're awake. How are you, dear?" The change in her tone was quite amazing.

"I'll be all right. But don't blame Ginny for this. It was my idea."

"Your idea?" The warmth in her voice was gone as quickly as it had come. "You KNEW I'd told Ginny she couldn't go into London. You were there when I said it!" It was probably fortunate for Harry that he was a guest and not one of her sons at this point, or she might have hexed him. "On top of that, the four of you split up, and YOU promised me you'd all stick together this morning."

Ginny tried to come to his defence, and Harry thought she was quite brave to do so. "Mum, the danger wasn't in London. It was in Diagon Alley. We were fine until we came back to the Leaky Cauldron."

If Mrs Weasley was going to reply to this, she was interrupted by the noise of someone entering the house by way of the kitchen door. "Good heavens, what now?" Her question was answered almost immediately when a breathless Ron and Hermione entered the living room. They were both white-faced and wide-eyed. She rounded on them. "Thank goodness. JUST WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN?" Harry's head pounded harder at her shout, and he rubbed his temples. Hermione coloured, and Ron looked down at the floor. "I want to know what you've been up to this afternoon. Ginny said there was some sort of attack today."

"Yeah, Mum," said Ron, " there was. Death Eaters in Diagon Alley!"

"And how is it you four didn't come home together? I told Harry just this morning I wanted you to stick together."

"It's my fault, Mum. I wanted some time alone with Hermione." Ron's ears had gone red at this admission. "And I told Harry we'd catch them up." He hesitated, but the look on his mother's face soon convinced him to continue. "We only went to lunch at the Leaky Cauldron."

"Do you know what Harry and your sister got up to while you were having lunch?"

Ron looked pleadingly at Harry, but there was nothing Harry could convey to him that would help the situation. "Erm, they went for ice cream?"

"No." Mrs Weasley's voice had gone deceptively calm now. "They didn't go for ice cream, they went shopping. In London!" She held up Harry's sack as evidence. "And they came back here with Harry unconscious!"

Hermione looked horrified. "Unconscious?" she repeated.

Ginny broke in. "He wasn't unconscious from anything that happened in the Muggle world, Mum. We were attacked when we back through the Leaky Cauldron."

"I'll deal with that in a minute," replied Mrs Weasley. "I want to hear what Ron has to say for himself first."

Ron swallowed. "Well, we finished lunch, and we went for a stroll. We thought we'd catch Harry and Ginny up, and we'd got as far as Ollivander's when we heard shouting."

"But that's down at the opposite end of Diagon Alley from the Leaky Cauldron," mused Harry. "It must have been some attack."

"Dunno," said Ron. All I knew is I heard shouting, and then the Aurors who were there to guard the street were being attacked. There were all these wizards in black cloaks, and they'd appeared out of nowhere. It was as if they'd Apparated in."

"They couldn't have Apparated in," interrupted Hermione. "There are wards over Diagon Alley now. No one can Apparate in or out any more than they could at Hogwarts."

Ron rolled his eyes. "Where did they come from then? I didn't see, did you?" Hermione had to admit she hadn't. "We wanted to activate our Portkeys and come straight home, but we didn't know where Harry and Ginny were. We hadn't seen them anywhere." Mrs Weasley crossed her arms at this. "And then it looked as if we might be caught in the crossfire."

"You can tell them, Ron," said Hermione. "Someone sent a spell at us. Ron got him though. Full Body Bind. He fell on his face just like Neville back in first year."

"Yeah, and then an Auror took care of him. But more Aurors were dispatched than Death Eaters," said Ron with a shudder. "There were bodies all over the street… Anyway, soon as we could, we ran for cover and Portkeyed back."

"I knew something was going to happen," said Mrs Weasley despairingly. "I JUST KNEW IT! And do any of you act responsibly? NO! Don't you realise we're at war? Does that mean anything to any of you? You have no idea what it's like, none at all…" All four teenagers were looking at the floor now. Their guilt was palpable.

"All right," continued Mrs Weasley, taking a deep breath. "I need to know the rest of the story. Harry, how is it you came back here unconscious?"

"As I said before, we were fine in the Muggle part of London. It wasn't until we came back through the Leaky Cauldron that we knew anything was wrong." Harry paused here. Although he had a good idea what had happened, he wasn't sure how much to tell and not give away Ginny's secret. On the other hand, the longer he hesitated, the more it looked as if he were hiding something. "Everything happened really fast then. I'm not too sure… We came into Diagon Alley and there were Death Eaters there. One of them drew his wand. I tried to disarm him, but he jumped out of the way. Then he sent a spell at me, and I dunno, for some reason it bounced off me." Harry deliberately did not mention the fact that the spell had been an Unforgivable Curse. He saw that Ginny was watching him closely. "And then there was this light. I think Ginny must have activated her Portkey to bring us back here, because I was knocked out and woke up here."

Hermione was looking at Harry speculatively. "What would make the spell bounce off you?"

"I don't know… I…"

Harry was saved further explanation by more noise signalling another arrival in the kitchen. Someone had just arrived by the Floo network. Hermione hadn't lost her thoughtful gaze, however, and Harry could fairly see the wheels turning in her head. They all turned to see Mr Weasley enter the room.

"Arthur!" cried Mrs Weasley, and she ran to him and flung her arms around him. "Thank goodness you're all right!"

"Yes, dear, I'm fine. Nothing has happened at the Ministry itself. I came home to make sure everyone had arrived safely."

"Well, they have, but only by a stroke of luck." And she launched into an account of what had happened. Ron and Hermione both took seats, as did Ginny. They all exchanged guilty looks with Harry, while Mrs Weasley railed against them.

Mr Weasley looked quite grave at the end of the explanation, but he merely said, "All's well that ends well. Everyone seems to be OK, but you were extremely lucky. I imagine you'll be spending the rest of the summer de-gnoming the garden, if I don't miss my guess," he added with a look at his wife.

"Arthur, do you know any more about what happened today?"

"No, we don't know much. It seems there was an attack, as you've seen. Several Aurors killed; a good many others are in St. Mungo's. No one knows how the enemy got in. There's no evidence the wards were tampered with. The Death Eaters seem to have withdrawn for now. I had a talk with Mad-Eye Moody, and he thinks this was only a trial of our strength."

Mrs Weasley put a hand to her heart. "I don't know how I'll make it through the day with you at the Ministry. I'll be sick with worry."

"That can't be helped, Molly. We'll make it through all right, just as we always have."

Ron got up from his seat and tried to sneak out of the room, while his parents were talking, but his mother stopped him in his tracks. "Not so fast there. I'm not through with you yet. Your father wasn't joking about the de-gnoming, and there's plenty of weeding to be taken care of around here. I'll expect you all to get to it bright and early tomorrow."

They all breathed a collective sigh at that pronouncement. Ron headed upstairs with his packages, followed by Hermione. Mrs Weasley offered to make her husband some tea, and they went into the kitchen, where their voices could be heard in serious conversation. Harry tried to sit up but found he felt slightly dizzy. His headache was fading away, at least, now that no one was shouting. Ginny looked at him, concerned.

"Are you sure you're all right?" she asked, making sure to keep her voice low.

"Yeah, I will be in a minute. Just feeling a bit dizzy is all. It'll pass." He managed to sit up this time, and his head was clearer. "You know, Gin, I reckon that necklace of yours really works."

She coloured slightly and nodded. There was no denying that something had saved him from the force of the Cruciatus Curse, even if the power required to turn back an Unforgivable was enough to knock him out, and the most likely explanation was the necklace. Harry realised she'd also been the one to get them both out of a bad spot when she'd activated the Portkey. He stood up, feeling very steady on his feet now, and took her hand. It was very warm in his.

"I guess I owe you a thank-you at the very least."

She bit her lip for a second before replying. "No, Harry, what else would I have done? Left you to face those Death Eaters alone?"

"But the necklace… It really does work. It saved me from the Cruciatus Curse."

"Yes, but… It's nothing, really. I never expected it to work."

"It's not nothing. I know what it feels like. Believe me, it's not nothing."

Something made Harry step closer to her, and he didn't question it. He felt an overwhelming desire to touch her cheek, to see if it was as soft as it looked. He reached out and placed his palm against the curve of her cheekbone, heard a sharp intake of breath as he did so. She looked beautiful with her eyes closed and her lips parted slightly, the colour rising on her face and her breathing becoming shallower. In that moment, he felt an urge to do whatever was necessary to keep that expression on her face. Tentatively, he moved the pad of his thumb along soft skin. A small tremor of reaction seemed to pass through her. Harry stared at her lips, fascinated. He felt a sudden imperative need to know what they would feel like under his, and without giving the matter further thought, leaned forward and kissed her.

Soft. Her lips were soft and supple and warm. This was wonderful. This was better than flying. This was… over much too soon. He opened his eyes and looked deep into her rich brown ones. He was surprised, shocked almost, at their depth. He'd never known, and now he did not want to look away. He thought he could stay like this forever. But she couldn't. Without a word, she broke eye contact and slipped away. There had been a noise in the kitchen, and the moment was gone.

Harry stood there, slightly stunned at what had just happened. He could hear her footsteps fading away on the stairs. What had possessed him to do that? He had no idea. He hadn't thought, he'd simply acted. And what must Ginny have thought of him for her to run off like that? Perhaps he'd done it wrong. He'd need to consult Sirius' birthday present to be sure. His stomach twisted uncomfortably. At the moment he felt as if he'd be lucky indeed to ever have another chance to kiss her.

Now he was aware of the sounds of conversation coming from the kitchen once more, and the gravity of what had happened came back, along with his feelings of guilt. He was a guest in this house, and he'd broken trust with his hosts. His stomach twisted again, but for another reason. He owed Mr and Mrs Weasley an apology at the very least.

He went into the kitchen where Mr and Mrs Weasley were seated at the table, mugs of hot tea in front of them. Harry cleared his throat, and they looked up.

"I think I owe you an apology for, well, putting it in Ginny's head to disobey you," he said without preamble. "I honestly thought I was helping her out a bit with her school work, and I didn't think…"

"No, you didn't," replied Mrs Weasley, her eyes glittering.

"I'm sorry," Harry said lamely. "It won't happen again."

"There's been no harm done, now has there?" put in Mr Weasley reasonably. "The danger wasn't in their going into London. Who knows what would have happened if they'd all stayed together? The attack still would have occurred. I daresay the Death Eaters didn't expect to find Harry in Diagon Alley today, but what if they had? Don't you think they would have all gone after him? It was most likely for the best that things worked out the way they did. It's not Harry's fault that he tends to attract trouble."

Mrs Weasley pursed her lips. "Yes, that's true," she was forced to admit. "And it most certainly won't happen again. You'll all be spending the rest of the holiday in the garden. There will no question of any of you traipsing off on any more escapades."

Harry beat a hasty retreat up the stairs. He was grateful to Mr Weasley for trying to smooth things over, but something he'd said was bothering Harry. It was true that Harry tended to attract trouble, and more often than not, others were put into danger though their simple association with him. If he'd stayed in Diagon Alley with his friends, the outcome could have been much, much worse. A shiver passed through him as he thought of Ron, Hermione or Ginny lying on the ground, hurt or even dead because of him. It wouldn't be the first time an innocent bystander was killed for being in the wrong place at the wrong time. The image of Cedric Diggory, cold and staring, rose unbidden in his mind. He couldn't allow that to happen again.

*

Harry removed his dragon hide gloves so that he could wipe the sweat from his face. He'd been patiently pulling weeds in Mrs Weasley's garden for over an hour now, and he felt as if he'd barely made a dent in them. The sorts of weeds found in wizarding gardens seemed to put down stronger roots and have a lot more spines than what he was used to at the Dursleys', and the work was tiresome. He watched as Crookshanks ran past in hot pursuit of a small figure with a potato-like head. He and Ron had de-gnomed the garden the previous day, but it looked as if they'd spend tomorrow doing it all over again.

He sat back on his heels and pushed his glasses back up his nose. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Ginny working further down the row. If he were completely honest with himself, she was another reason he hadn't managed to make much progress. He'd spent far too much time casting glances her way. He watched now as she struggled with a particularly tenacious thistle. Her face was red with heat and exertion, and her hair was escaping its ponytail, causing tendrils to straggle across her forehead. She blew upwards at them impatiently, and when that didn't help, she let go of the thistle and swiped a sleeve across her forehead, leaving a streak of dirt in its wake. Then she went back to her work with renewed vigour. The weed finally gave way, causing her to sit down hard with a surprised thump. She caught Harry's eye then, and he looked away quickly, his face going even redder since she'd seen him staring.

It was difficult to concentrate when she was around. He found himself remembering their day in London, how her hand had felt in his, the flash of legs when she caught her dress in the turnstile, her body pressed briefly against his on the Underground. His lips on hers… Neither of them had brought up that incident, but then there had not been much of an opportunity. They had all spent so much time doing chores over the past few days, that meals were silent and bed quite inviting.

The general atmosphere at the Burrow had been subdued since the attack on Diagon Alley, as everyone felt a sort of unspoken dread of something else happening, something that could affect them all personally. They all knew more attacks were inevitable, and with Mr Weasley and Percy at the Ministry every day, often until late at night, it seemed only a matter of time until the Weasley family was touched directly by Voldemort. Harry knew he would feel any harm to a Weasley as a personal loss.

He put his gloves back on and pulled out a few more weeds, but it wasn't long before he was distracted once more. Why did the sun have to glint off her red hair in such a way that he couldn't keep his eyes off it? Why was the streak of dirt on her face so endearing? What had made her so generous a soul so as want to protect a boy who had spent the past few years all but ignoring her? He felt he ought to know her well enough to be able to answer some of these questions, and he knew it was his own fault that he couldn't. He'd been taken in by her family, practically made an honorary member, almost six years ago, and yet he'd never taken the time to find out anything about her at all…

"Lemonade, dear?"

Harry jumped. He'd been staring again and hadn't heard Mrs Weasley approach. She was standing at the edge of the garden with a tray bearing a pitcher of what was undoubtedly fresh-squeezed lemonade and several glasses. The expression on her face was rather knowing, especially when Harry saw her look down at the pitifully small pile of weeds near him. Ginny had managed to do at least twice the work he had in the time they'd been there.

Harry grinned sheepishly. "Yes, please," he said, standing, removing his gloves once more and walking over to the edge of the garden. He was sure Mrs Weasley's eyes glinted at him as she handed him a glass.

Suddenly Ginny was beside him, reaching for a glass as well. Her hand brushed against the side of his arm, and the spot she'd touched tingled strangely. "Thanks, Mum. We ought to be able to finish this afternoon."

Harry saw Mrs Weasley look once more at Harry's pile of weeds, but she made no comment. "That would be nice, dear. The whole garden is going to need de-gnoming again, so it would be wonderful to have the weeds out of the way. Carry on."

Mrs Weasley walked off towards the orchard, where Ron and Hermione were picking early apples, with the lemonade. Harry turned to see Ginny looking at him. "Cheers, Harry," she said and clinked glasses with him. Then she drained her lemonade in one gulp, but her eyes never left his. Eye contact. It was supposed to be a positive sign. He felt the tingle go through him again. But then she returned to work without another word, leaving him thoroughly confused.

*

The evening before term began, Harry and Ron sat playing Exploding Snap after supper. Hermione had tried to badger them into packing, but the boys had foregone that chore in favour of a game of cards.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron had said. "We've got all day tomorrow to do it."

Earlier at supper, Mr Weasley had told them the Hogwarts Express would not be taking them to school this year. "The Board of Governors has decided the Hogwarts Express presents too great a target in light of the recent attacks, and they've decided not to run the train. The Department of Magical Transportation has been working overtime to find a way to get everyone to school this year. The Floo Regulation Panel has developed a new sort of Floo Powder, which will only work on September 1st and will take you as far as Hogsmeade. From there you will take the carriages as usual."

"Won't all the students arriving at the same time clog up the fireplace?" Hermione had asked.

"Yes, but you won't all be arriving at once, and you'll be arriving at different fireplaces. You could come out at Hogsmeade Station, Zonko's, Honeydukes, The Three Broomsticks or Gladrags. They've had to work out an extensive time table to accommodate everybody. They went by alphabetical order, so you'll be some of the last to arrive. Since they're aware you're both staying here, Harry and Hermione, you're being considered Weasleys," he'd added, forestalling Hermione's next question. "Much less complicated for everyone that way. You'll need to be ready to go at 5:03 sharp, and you're set to come out at Zonko's according to the time table."

By the time the deck of cards had exploded, singeing Ron's eyebrows in the process, Ginny had finished repairing her textbooks and disappeared, as well. Harry was mildly disappointed. He'd have asked her how her Muggle Studies essay had turned out as a means of striking up a conversation. He might even have asked her to take a walk with him. He'd gone as far as considering kissing her again if he was feeling really courageous. But now he'd missed his chance, and they wouldn't even have the ride on the train together.

Ron stood up, yawning. "I reckon we should head off to bed. We've got to pack in the morning."

Harry's reply was non-committal. "Yeah, I suppose."

When they'd reached Ron's room at the top of the house, they were surprised to find Hermione stretched out on Ron's bed, reading.

"Hermione, what are you doing up here?" asked Ron. Harry didn't think his outrage sounded very genuine.

"Reading," Hermione replied with a sly grin.

"I can see that. Why are you doing it up here, though?"

Harry couldn't resist breaking in on their exchange. "Shall I leave you two alone?" he asked, suppressing the urge to laugh.

"No, that's quite all right," replied Hermione. "Whose is this, by the way?" She held up the book she'd been reading, and Harry felt his stomach plummet. It was Dr Zog's Practical Spells for Wizards. He felt his face flame, but he was quite sure he didn't want to admit it was his. Ron's mouth was working soundlessly, as if he'd forgotten how to speak.

"Honestly," said Hermione in an exasperated tone. "What's got into the two of you? This looks quite useful, you know," she added, indicating the book. "I wonder why they haven't included it on our school lists?"

Ron broke into a fit of coughing at that. Hermione merely arched an eyebrow at him. "You ought to drink some water, Ron." She got off his bed and handed him the book. "See you in the morning."

As soon as she was gone, Harry grabbed the book from Ron. "Give me that! What's the idea leaving this out where anyone could find it?"

"I didn't leave it out," Ron protested.

"Then how did she find it?"

"No idea. What I don't get is her reaction. Shouldn't she have hit the roof?"

"Yeah, you'd think so… Unless she's been benefiting from the information in this book somehow?"

Ron started coughing again, and Harry rifled idly through the book, wondering what Hermione had thought so useful it should be on Hogwarts' curriculum. What he saw made his face go even redder. He snapped the book shut. Then he opened it again. He was sure he'd never seen that particular page before. He began to turn the pages slowly. There was a whole section here on… Well, anyway, that hadn't been here last time he'd looked, he was certain.

Ron had recovered from his latest coughing fit and was watching him curiously. "What is it?"

"Er, Ron, I think you've read through this more thoroughly than I have. Have you ever seen this part?"

He passed the book over to Ron and saw Ron's eyes fairly bug out of his head. "Wow!" He turned the book sideways. "I didn't know that was… Erm, no, I don't think I have seen this page. Dunno how I missed it…" He went on turning pages, until Harry had to snatch the book back once more.

"So why are we still alive? If Hermione had seen that, you can be sure she'd have killed the both of us."

Ron was considering. "Maybe she didn't see it."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, we haven't seen it before, either."

"Erm, no. I think I would have remembered that. It leaves a bit of an impression."

Ron took the book back from Harry and opened it to the beginning. "Ah! Thought so. Look at this." Ron was pointing to a paragraph in the introduction, which explained how the author had developed a special charm, which caused the text to magically adapt itself to whomever was reading it.

"I wonder what she saw then, that she thought was so useful?" asked Harry speculatively.

"Who knows? Maybe advice on how to remove stains from your robes."

"In any case, I'm hiding this. Last thing we need is for your mum to find it. I've been in enough trouble with her to last me."

Harry put the book into the bottom of his trunk under his cauldron. "And there it stays."

"I swear, I didn't leave it lying about." Ron protested.

"Well, Hermione isn't the type to go snooping through my things, is she?"

"No, of course not."

"Let's just keep this book to ourselves, shall we? Can you imagine if Dean and Seamus knew about it? We'd never see it again."

"Yeah, true."

And without further conversation, they changed into their pyjamas and went to bed. Harry was careful to turn his back to Ron so that Ron wouldn't see the necklace. It could become problematic to keep it a secret in the seventh year boys' dormitory, but Harry reckoned he could always close the hangings on his bed while he changed. As long as no one pointed out that he'd become shy over the summer, he'd be fine.

"Night, Ron," he called softly. Ron was already snoring.

One reviewer mentioned the necklace's role in the story trying to compare it with the necklace in Lord of the Rings. The necklace in this story only physically resembles the necklace Arwen gave to Frodo. It won't behave in the same way… (I don't think, unless there was something Professor Tolkien neglected to mention.)

Harry and Ron put off packing their trunks until the last minute on September 1st. In the late afternoon, they went up to Ron's room, and socks, underwear and spare robes flew about, as they hurried to cram everything in. When they'd all but finished, they each changed into the set of school robes they'd laid aside and closed their trunks. They levitated them down to the kitchen, where the girls were waiting for them. Mrs Weasley was fussing with the hem of Ginny's robe, which was coming undone in the back.

"I can't charm it back into place. The fabric is too far gone. It won't hold out."

Ginny was looking over her shoulder trying to see the damage. "Well, there's no time to sew it back in place now," she sighed. "I'll see to it when I get to school." There was no time for her to change into another set of robes, either. "Just put a pin in it for now."

Mrs Weasley looked up to see that the boys were ready. "At last!" she exclaimed. "I wouldn't have fancied driving to London in this weather." The rain, which was coming down in buckets, was driven almost horizontal by vicious, icy winds. At times there came a clatter against the windows as if tiny pellets of ice were striking the panes instead of raindrops. "I hope the weather is nicer in the north."

She paused and took a deep breath before hugging each one in turn. When she released Harry, her eyes looked overly bright. "Have a good term, all of you," she said, looking from face to face. "Study hard, and stay out of trouble." She gave this last admonition particular emphasis. She took another great breath before continuing. "It's hard to believe you're almost finished school. It seems like only yesterday you were asking me how to get onto the platform, Harry." Her voice was beginning to quaver.

Ron looked at his watch. "It's time, Mum," he said, before Mrs Weasley could say anything further.

She removed a small vial from her apron pocket. "Right, then. Off you go."

Each of them in turn took a pinch of the special Floo powder. It was bluish, and when it was thrown into the flames, they turned purple rather than emerald green. Hermione went through first, as she had to contend with Crookshanks, who was hissing and spitting at being confined in a covered basket. There was no need to shout out the destination, since only one was possible, so when Harry's turn came, he merely cast his pinch of powder into the grate and stepped in with his trunk and Hedwig's cage.

He was soon whirling dizzily, but he saw no other fireplaces whizzing by. When he came stumbling to a halt, he ran straight into a grinning Fred. Or was it George? Harry couldn't tell, but he knew he'd arrived at Zonko's.

He quickly stepped aside to make room for Ginny, who was following on his heels. The other twin--Harry could tell it was George by the blindingly bright lavender, orange and yellow patterned robes he was wearing--moved forward to help Ginny with her trunk, while Fred assisted Harry. Fred had a glint in his eye that Harry didn't exactly trust.

"Harry, my man," he said, clapping Harry hard on the shoulder. His voice was quite loud. "How've things gone since your birthday? Hope you've found somewhere better to snog than Dad's shed."

The words seemed to echo through the shop, and, much to Harry's consternation, Ron turned around and looked at him curiously. "What's that? Who were you snogging in Dad's shed?"

Harry looked Ron straight in the eye and replied, "Crookshanks. Who do you think…" Realisation began to dawn over Ron's features, and Harry quickly added, "But we weren't snogging."

Ron didn't look quite convinced, and he looked over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned to follow his gaze and saw that Ginny had arrived. He felt a flush creep over his face. He had no idea whether or not she'd overheard, and her expression gave away nothing.

Hermione came back from the front of the shop, her Head Girl badge catching the torch light. "What's the hold-up? We have to clear out to make room for the next arrivals."

They filed after her through the joke shop, passing a blonde woman at the counter. They could hear her grumbling something about lost business, and Harry realised that she must have had to close the shop to accommodate the students' arrival. George heaved Ginny's trunk to the front of the shop next to the door, setting it next to the others', and went over to say something to the woman. It looked to Harry as though she'd gone a bit pink in the face at whatever George had said to her, but she looked a lot happier.

If the weather in Hogsmeade was any better than it had been in Ottery St. Catchpole, it was only marginally so. There was a carriage waiting for them at the door, and they scrambled to get in, managing to get quite wet in spite of themselves. Their breath came out in smoke-like clouds.

"What about our trunks?" asked Ginny, when they were all inside and had set off.

"I suppose someone will bring them up to school," replied Hermione, struggling to keep the lid on Crookshanks' basket. Harry was glad that Hedwig behaved so well in her cage. "We've always left our things on the train in the past, and they were always in our dormitories after the feast. It won't be that much longer," she added in an exasperated tone to her cat.

Harry wasn't sure he liked the idea of leaving their trunks in Fred and George's possession for however short a time. There hadn't been any other trunks in sight, so he could only hope that, however they were magicked up to school, it happened instantaneously. If anyone else had similar doubts, no one voiced them. Harry looked out the window at the mournful, wet village. He could see that they'd joined a procession of carriages winding their way through town. There were also quite a few miserable-looking witches and wizards lining the High Street. They were Aurors, he realised with a shiver, put in place to assure that everyone reached Hogwarts safely.

They arrived in the Entrance Hall soaked to the skin and shivering with cold. Harry tried to wipe his glasses clean on his sodden robes, but he only succeeded in smearing them further. A good many black-robed students were milling about, waiting to be admitted to the beginning-of-term feast. Harry wished he'd been among the earlier arrivals, as he would have had time to change out of his wet clothes. He considered going up to Gryffindor Tower anyway, but he couldn't be sure his trunk had arrived, and even if it had, he had no idea what to expect when he opened it. He wouldn't put it past the twins to Transfigure all his robes into pigeons or put an Itching Charm on his warm socks.

In any case, he was soon distracted by the appearance of Professor McGonagall in the Entrance Hall. Harry was surprised by how haggard she looked. He knew she wasn't all that young, but her face was drawn with exhaustion, and the lines on it were etched more deeply than ever.

"Any first years here?" she called above the buzz of the gathered students. Two frightened-looking boys raised their hands. Harry looked at them in amazement. Had he ever been that small? "This way please." The boys followed Professor McGonagall, dragging their feet slightly. They'd never know what it was like to get their first glimpse of Hogwarts from the lake, Harry thought, and the notion saddened him a bit.

More and more students were coming into the Entrance Hall, as the last of the carriages let off the arrivals from Hogsmeade, and those who had arrived earlier in the day filtered down from their common rooms. Harry said hello to Dean and then to Seamus, before Lavender Brown came up and pulled him into a corner.

"Back for another year, are we?" asked a drawling voice. Harry rolled his eyes. Couldn't Malfoy resist the temptation just once to come over and make nasty remarks? "Surprised you survived the summer, but the year's not over yet, is it?"

"Just ignore him," Hermione said needlessly. Harry had no problem heeding this advice, especially as this routine was getting very old after seven years.

"Yes, I see the Mudblood survived the summer, as well. Pity, that."

"Just ignore him," Hermione hissed at Ron, who looked ready to go for his wand.

Malfoy passed over Ron, and turned to Ginny now, looking her up and down. His gaze came to rest on her tattered hemline. "Too bad you had to be born last, isn't it? Your parents might have been able to afford better that way."

Ginny didn't deign to reply; she merely glared. But for some reason that Harry didn't stop to examine, this remark annoyed him where the others hadn't. He couldn't remember Ginny ever being a real target of Malfoy's barbs in the past, and he couldn't see why she should have to endure them now.

"Sod off, Malfoy. Your boyfriends are waiting for you over there." Harry indicated Crabbe and Goyle, who were standing not far off, with a nod of his head. He was surprised when Malfoy actually obeyed him, but then he saw Professor McGonagall pass by, as she searched for more first years. Harry found it ironic that he'd wanted to take the Hogwarts Express one last time if only to spend some time with Ginny. The train trip had been cancelled, but he hadn't managed to avoid one of the more unpleasant aspects of the trip, a run-in with Malfoy.

At last the doors to the Great Hall opened to admit them to the feast. The enchanted sky was roiling with black clouds, but at least they couldn't actually feel the effects of the elements in here. When everyone was seated at the long house tables, Professor McGonagall led the first years in to be Sorted, and as Harry looked at their pale faces and staring eyes, he was struck once more by how young they looked. And then he realised something else. This group of new students was the smallest he'd ever seen. Had some parents kept their children out of school this year? It had been difficult to tell when all the older students were gathered in the Great Hall, but now he could see that there were more empty places at the Gryffindor table than there ought to have been. None of the seventh years were missing, but Harry noticed that several Muggle-borns in other years were not present tonight.

Once the Sorting Ceremony had begun, Harry let his mind wander. He was hungry and wanted the Sorting Hat to hurry up. Ron, judging by the grumbling beside him, felt the same way. Harry glanced up at the staff table and was quite surprised to see two unexpected faces there. One he did not recognise at all, but the other… He nudged Ron and pointed.

Ron looked where Harry indicated. "Krum," he whispered, unbelievingly. "What's he doing here?"

"No idea. I doubt they've decided to put Quidditch on the curriculum."

"Nah… And who's the other bloke?" Ron asked. Harry assumed he meant the man Harry didn't recognise. "The one sitting where Snape… Hey, where's Snape?" Ron sounded quite gleeful now. He seemed to have forgotten his hunger entirely.

Harry suddenly felt quite a bit more optimistic about the upcoming year. Potions, at least looked like it would be a much more pleasant without Professor Snape looking for every opportunity to take house points from Gryffindor. On the other hand, what if something had happened to the Potions Master? Harry knew he'd been acting as a spy among the Death Eaters. "No idea where Snape is," he answered Ron. "Do you think Krum is going to teach us Potions?"

But Ron was no longer paying attention to Harry. He was too busy pointing out Viktor Krum's presence to Hermione. Harry looked over the head table once more, taking stock. Krum would be either Snape's replacement, or the Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. All the other regular teachers were accounted for, from Professor McGonagall, who was overseeing the Sorting, to tiny Professor Flitwick, to Professor Grubbly-Plank, who had replaced Hagrid as Care of Magical Creatures teacher last year.

After the Sorting and the feast were both behind him, Harry felt quite full and content. Albus Dumbledore stood and the room fell silent, as all eyes turned to him. "Now that we've filled our bellies, I have a few notices before I send you off to your beds. First of all, the Forbidden Forest is named that for good reason. I remind all students to stay out of it. Secondly, after much consideration, we have decided not to cancel Quidditch this year." This was met with thunderous applause, and Ron let out a loud whoop.

When the noise died down once more, Professor Dumbledore went on. "In light of recent events, we have done a great deal of work in the past weeks strengthening and extending the magical wards over the school, so that they include the village of Hogsmeade, and for this reason Hogsmeade visits will also not be cancelled, as of this time." More cheers at this.

Dumbledore waited for them to stop. "Finally, I have two introductions to make. This year we welcome Viktor Krum, who will be teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts." Viktor Krum was famous in the wizarding world for his prowess on the Quidditch pitch, and the students showed their appreciation by breaking into wild applause. Harry saw Ron nudge Hermione with his elbow as he clapped. The applause faded, and Dumbledore continued. "This is Mundungus Fletcher," he said, indicating the man in Professor Snape's usual seat. "He will be taking over Professor Snape's duties as Potions instructor and Head of Slytherin House. Professor Snape is on sabbatical this year and is thus unable to fulfil his duties." The applause for Mundungus Fletcher was much quieter. Harry looked over at the Slytherin table, where the members of that house were looking at each other with confused looks on their faces. Draco Malfoy looked particularly nonplussed. Ron, on the other hand, was cheering quite loudly.

"And now, off you go," said Professor Dumbledore, dismissing them all to their dormitories.

Harry watched as Ginny and Hermione rose to join the other prefects in leading the Gryffindors up to their tower. Heading the group, however, was none other than Neville Longbottom. Harry still couldn't get used to the idea of Neville as prefect. Hermione had told him and Ron that Neville had been appointed prefect in hopes that a little responsibility would do his self-esteem some good, and Harry had reckoned that the staff expected Hermione to make up for any short-comings on Neville's part. Whatever the original thinking behind the decision had been, the change in Neville since fifth year, when he'd relied on Hermione to tell misbehaving students off, was astonishing. It was true that he still had a tendency to forget passwords, but he was much more authoritative ever since he'd caught Draco Malfoy, a fellow prefect, in flagrante delicto with some Hufflepuff girl last year. He'd summoned the courage to take a good hundred points from both Slytherin and Hufflepuff, in spite of Malfoy's threats to hex him, and since that time he'd been an even greater stickler for the rules than Hermione. In short, he'd become a nightmare.

"Right!" called Neville, as if he were commanding a battalion. "Everyone form a line. Single file now. Look sharp, everyone. Gryffindors march!"

As they headed out, Harry caught sight of Ginny rolling her eyes behind Neville's back, and he stifled a laugh. The filed up to their tower where Hermione gave the password ("CÅ“ur de lion!"), and everyone scrambled through the portrait hole.

"All right," shouted Neville. "You heard the Headmaster. Everyone off to bed!"

The first years looked at him, wild-eyed, and scurried to obey him. But at that moment, a loud bang! was heard, and in the place where Neville had been standing there appeared a very large version of Trevor the toad. The older students roared with laughter, and Neville re-appeared a few minutes later, red-faced and glowering.

When they'd reached their dormitory, Ron asked Neville if he'd come to school by way of Zonko's. "As a matter of fact, I did," Neville replied.

"Did you change your robes before the feast?" asked Harry.

"Had to, I was soaked to the skin. Why?"

"No reason."

Harry and Ron both looked suspiciously at their trunks, which were now at the foot of their four-poster beds. Ron then met Harry's gaze, and his expression was one of resignation. Heart pounding, Harry opened his trunk carefully, but when nothing happened, he poked his cauldron with his wand. Still nothing. Acting quickly, Harry tapped every item in his trunk, muttering, "Finite incantatem" over and over. He could hear Ron doing the same thing next to him. When he was certain everything was safe, he pulled out his pyjamas, undressed quickly and went to bed.

But sleep didn't come right away. He was still awake long after he heard the snores of the other boys. Suddenly, he heard Ron whisper in the dark. "Harry? You awake?"

Harry had been sure Ron was asleep, and he wondered what could possibly be keeping his friend awake. "Yeah. What is it?"

"You like Ginny, don't you?"

Harry had definitely not been expecting this, but he supposed Ron had been thinking about what Fred had said at Zonko's. "Of course, I do," Harry hedged. "I like your whole family. Even Percy."

"You know what I mean. You like her, don't you?"

There wasn't any more avoiding the question, now. He'd have to admit the truth to himself at the same time as he admitted it to Ron. He'd had feelings for girls in the past, beginning with Cho Chang, but he'd always been able to keep them to himself, to push them aside, and eventually they'd gone away. He was finding that a lot more difficult to do this time. There was something inside him that demanded he act on them, something that his reason tried to hold off, arguing that he didn't need the added pressure, couldn't put her in danger through her association with him. He kept telling himself these things, but the feelings refused to go away. He took a deep breath. "Yeah, Ron, I guess I do."

Ron didn't reply right away, and Harry found his silence worrisome. Finally, he said, "Just don't let me catch you snogging her, and I think I'll be OK with it. And don't let me catch you reading that book, or I'll get some nasty mental pictures."

"Ron, I haven't snogged her at all." Harry didn't count that kiss in the living room at the Burrow. It had been almost chaste.

"Then keep it that way, as far as I'm concerned."

"What you don't know won't hurt you, you mean?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"I'm not sure that you have anything to worry about. I don't even know if she'd let me…" That much was true. He still didn't know why she'd slipped away from him like that. He'd seen a section on kissing in Sirius' book, and he didn't think he'd done anything too terribly wrong.

"Good then. At least she seems to have some sense. Night, Harry."

Harry didn't bother to answer. He was the slightest bit irritated with that last comment.

*

Harry sat in Gryffindor common room the following evening trying to concentrate. He couldn't believe the amount of homework he'd been assigned on the first day back. The day had got off to a poor start indeed in Transfiguration, where his attempts to Transfigure Ron into a newt had failed repeatedly. Hermione had had much more success than anyone, Transfiguring Parvati and switching her back to her normal state several times. Professor McGonagall hadn't been light on the assignments, either.

Care of Magical Creatures hadn't been much better. While the wind and rain of the previous day had cleared off, the temperature was hardly balmy. It hadn't occurred to anyone that early September could be so chilly, and so everyone had shivered through a long lecture on Centaurs. During Hagrid's tenure as teacher of this class, Harry could expect an easy time of it, but this was not the case when Professor Grubbly-Plank was lecturing. She'd assigned them a lengthy essay on the Centaur's abilities in the field of healing and hinted that they might even meet some Centaurs in the near future.

After lunch, the day had gone decidedly downhill. Harry and Ron had ascended to the North Tower for Double Divination. Harry had grown used to Professor Trelawney's constantly predicting his untimely demise, and so it had come as a surprise to him when she'd let most of the class pass without mentioning his name once. Then near the end of the period, she'd approached him. "Your luck has changed, my boy," she'd said in her misty voice, causing him to look up from the tarot cards he'd been trying to decipher. "The shadow of death no longer haunts you as closely. You have something… someone… protecting you." She'd sounded disappointed.

When she'd moved off to hover over Lavender and Parvati's table, Ron had asked in a low voice, "What do you suppose that was all about?"

"No idea. This whole class is nothing but rubbish."

But Harry hadn't been sure then, and he wasn't sure now. He laid his quill aside and rubbed his temples. Someone protecting him. It hit far too close to home. He could see the certain someone out of the corner of his eye. She was sitting at another table, her brow furrowed in concentration as she scribbled furiously on some parchment. From time to time, she consulted one of several large tomes on the table in front of her. Harry thought he recognised them as belonging to Hermione. He'd used one of them during his fourth year to practice Summoning charms. He'd never realised Ginny was studying Ancient Runes.

Harry forced himself to look away and write something, anything on the parchment in front of him. He was trying to write his essay for Divination, but for once he'd actually have to do some work. Rather than making up lots of bogus predictions, this assignment entailed comparing and contrasting various spreads of tarot cards. He kept referring to Unfogging the Future, but none of it made a great deal of sense to him. He was having trouble visualising the spreads in his mind. What he really needed was a deck of tarot cards to practice with, but he didn't have any. He crumpled up the parchment on which he'd just written a lot of nonsense and started over.

It wasn't long before he was distracted once more. This was much worse than trying to weed the garden. He had to get his homework finished. Ron and Hermione had long since given up on studying and had moved into a corner to play chess, but then Hermione didn't have Divination homework to worry about. He forced himself to look down at the empty parchment, unsuccessfully willing inspiration to come, but it wasn't long before a loud giggle caused him to look towards Ginny's table yet again.

It wasn't she who'd laughed, however. Sitting at the opposite end of the table, Harry now noticed, were Parvati, Lavender and Seamus. Ginny glared in their direction for a moment before going back to her work. Parvati had a deck of tarot cards out and seemed to be doing a reading. Perhaps she'd let him borrow her deck…

Harry went over to their table and waited for Parvati to finish what she was doing. "Um, hi, Parvati," he began. "Listen, I'm having trouble understanding what we're supposed to be doing in that essay for Trelawney. Do you think I could use your cards to work it out?"

Lavender looked horrified, and Harry didn't understand why until Parvati snapped, "Of course you can't! This is my personal deck. I can't let you touch them. Weren't you listening in class when Professor Trelawney said that?"

Harry had missed that admonition entirely. "Apparently not. Can you give me a hand with this anyway? I don't understand the different spreads. Can you just show them to me?"

Parvati and Lavender exchanged a look. "I suppose I could do a reading for you. Would that help you?"

Harry decided it was better than nothing and nodded. Seamus sniggered and got up from the table. "Talk to you later, Lavender," he said, before gathering his books and parchment and heading for the dormitory.

Harry watched as Parvati began laying the cards out in a pattern. "This one is a basic spread. It's called the Celtic Cross, and it's made up of ten cards. The first six cards represent what is going on in your life at this moment. The first one represents the present fundamental problem, the heart of the matter…" Harry wanted to tune her out. This was all a load of... No! He needed to hear this. "The Tower. Hmmm, that can be good or bad. It means sudden change and upheaval, a shock that might be a blessing in disguise. It can also mean you'll uncover a hidden truth. Second card is the Magician reversed," Parvati went on. "Ooh, that's not very good, is it? You'll have to watch out for deception and trickery. Be careful who you trust."

Harry thought he heard a derisive noise coming from Ginny's end of the table. He could see her if he turned his head just slightly. He could watch the way her hair reflected the firelight…

Harry jumped when Parvati snapped her fingers under his nose. "Harry! You're not paying attention!"

"Sorry, what was card three again?"

Parvati gave him a quelling look. "I'm on card five."

Suddenly Lavender gave a small cry, bringing Harry out the reverie into which he had slipped again. He looked over to see her staring at the cards on the table. Parvati had just turned up the Ten of Pentacles. Harry had no idea why this should make Lavender cry out like that or cause Parvati to look at him speculatively. "The fifth card is something you have your heart set on." She tapped the card. "This card represents a desire for permanence. It stands for wealth, success, marriage and carrying on traditions." She turned the next card, and Lavender fairly shrieked this time. It was the Lovers card. Harry gulped, knowing he was definitely not going to like this. "The sixth card is the future, something gaining influence or coming into focus."

Harry swallowed. "Does… does that mean what I think it does?" he asked trying to sound nonchalant.

Parvati rolled her eyes. "Of course it does."

"Good thing this is all a load of…"

Lavender cut him off. "Of course it isn't rubbish. Parvati did a reading for me fifth year that predicted I'd get nine OWLs. And I did."

"Moving on," Parvati grated, and she went on turning up cards. The ninth card produced another high-pitched squeal from Lavender. "Two of Cups in this position means you should look to someone else to help you achieve what you want. Someone you weren't expecting has a role to play. Someone you love."

Damn, there it was again. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ginny glaring in their direction. He supposed all the noise from their end of the table was making it difficult for her to study. Parvati turned the last card, but Harry didn't pay it much heed. Sometimes it was best not to know, he thought. Not that this meant anything. Just because Parvati and Lavender took it seriously…

"Tarot cards, Harry?" Somehow Ginny had managed to get out of her seat and come over to their end of the table without his noticing. She was giggling. "Isn't that all just a load of nonsense?"

Parvati was looking at Ginny with dislike. "Come on, Lavender, let's go find someone who appreciates our talent." She and Lavender gathered their things, including the tarot deck. Harry was glad he didn't have to stare at the Lovers card any longer.

As Parvati and Lavender stalked off, Harry gave Ginny a half smile. "Taking Divination," he mumbled. "I asked them for help with my homework."

"I know. At least Ron had the sense to warn me off it."

Harry was ready to ask her about her other classes, but he didn't have the chance. Before he could get anything out that would continue the conversation, Neville stood up and announced to the entire common room, "All right everyone! Lights out in ten minutes! Everyone up to their dormitories!"

There was a general groan from the older students, as the younger students scrambled to obey. Neville had decided to institute a curfew the previous year, and unfortunately for the night owls among the students, Professor McGonagall had backed him up. Ginny made to gather her things, but Harry grabbed her hand to stop her. "Wait," he said. "Don't go yet."

Ginny stared down at their joined hands for a moment before replying. "What about Neville?"

"Don't worry about him."

He stood up and, amid the general chaos of the rest of the Gryffindors going to bed, led her into a more secluded corner. He didn't think anyone had noticed.

When the common room had cleared, Ginny asked, "What did you want, Harry?"

He hesitated. What did he want? He could answer that question readily enough. He'd been thinking about it ever since the day they'd gone to London, but her reaction made him wonder if she'd want him to try to kiss her again. He also remembered thinking that he didn't know her as well as he ought. He opted for asking her something safe. "Well, I never did get a chance to ask you how your Muggle Studies essay came out."

Was that disappointment he saw flicker over her face? "Oh. I think I ought to get a very good mark on it. I never did thank you for taking me on the Underground." He hadn't realised he was still holding her hand in his until he felt her squeeze. It sent a thrill through him. He was sure she was sending him some kind of signal, but still he hesitated. He was going to be sure he did things right this time. He mentally reviewed the tips he'd read in Sirius' book:

Kissing is much like a handshake. The way you go about it leaves a lasting impression and can be used as a benchmark for whatever else you may have to offer. Check.

Don't stampede straight for the lips like a bull at the gate. Tease her by brushing your lips over some other readily available body part first. Check.

Open your mouth but not too much. Don't make her afraid you'll swallow her whole. Check.

Good dental hygiene is a must. Not a problem when one of your best friends had dentists for parents. Check.

Not too hard, not too soft. A firm, gentle approach makes for a happy medium. Check.

Don't insert your tongue unless it's got a purpose. Tongue? he remembered thinking. OK… check.

Take it easy on the saliva. Urgh… Check.

Listen for signals from your partner. If she's breathing heavily or clinging to you for support, you're likely doing something right. Check.

Everyone has personal preferences, so ask your partner what she likes. Maybe later, if all else failed.

Don't think about it too hard. How am I supposed to not think about it after all this advice?

He leaned closer and thought she did the same. They were only inches apart, when…

"Potter! Get up to bed! Now! Don't make me take points away from Gryffindor! I don't like it, but you know I will if I have to!"

It was Neville. Harry knew he'd make good on his threat, too. He'd done it last year to Ron and Hermione, when the curfew had been newly instated. "I'll be up in a minute," he called.

"You'll be up now, or I'll know the reason why!"

Harry turned back to Ginny, who was shaking with suppressed laughter. At least she saw some humour in the situation. At the moment Harry felt murderous. "Sorry, Gin. I've got to go."

"POTTER!" Neville bellowed.

"Good night, Harry," Ginny called softly after him.

"Reckon we can start practising next week?"

Harry and Ron were on their way to their first Potions class of term, discussing Gryffindor's Quidditch prospects as they wound their way to the dungeons, and for once they were looking forward to the class. It might actually prove to be a pleasant experience for once, or it would be if they didn't have the Slytherins to contend with. That much hadn't changed.

"What about holding try-outs?" Harry replied.

"What for?" asked Ron. "We have a full roster this year." He had been obliged to hold try-outs at the beginning of last year to fill the void left by Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, Katie Bell, and the twins. He'd managed to get Fred and George to oversee the training of the new Beaters, Ralph Chapman and Kevin Graham, two hulking boys in Ginny's year, and they'd recruited Natalie MacDonald, Rosamund Booth, and Carol Biggles as Chasers.

"As long as no one gets hurt, we're fine, but there's the future of the team to consider, as well," replied Harry. "If we take on some reserve players, we can train them this year, and whoever becomes Captain next year won't have to worry about it."

Ron stopped in his tracks and looked at Harry. "I know what this is about…" he began, but Hermione interrupted him.

"Harry's right, Ron. You ought to look ahead. Remember all the trouble you had last year? First year as Quidditch Captain, and you had five spots to fill."

"It won't be as bad next year," Ron argued. "There will only be two openings."

"And what if someone is injured? What will you do then? The team has been very lucky so far, but you never know."

Harry and Ron both stared at Hermione. While she went to Quidditch matches along with the rest of the school, she'd never seemed overly interested in the sport. She often got Quidditch-related terms mixed up, and Ron still liked to tease her about Wonky Faints and Porky Ploys.

"Since when are you so interested in Gryffindor's Quidditch prospects?" ask Ron suspiciously.

Hermione shrugged. "Just thought I was showing proper interest in my house team. Come on, we'll be late."

They hurried along the corridor, arriving at the Potions Dungeon at the same time as Mundungus Fletcher. The professor went to the front of the class, as the students filed in and took their customary seats. Mundungus Fletcher was an unsmiling, jowly man with a florid complexion, close-cropped grey hair and icy blue eyes. Harry remembered now that Mr Weasley had had some sort of trouble with him in the past, and now that Harry had seen this man up close, he could easily imagine it.

The Potions professor began the class by taking the register, and Harry was surprised that he received no reply when he arrived at Draco Malfoy's name. Harry hadn't noticed Malfoy's absence when he'd entered the dungeon, as he was almost late himself, but turning now he could see that the place where the Slytherin usually sat was empty. He exchanged a look with Ron and Hermione. Ron looked pleased. Now they would find out whether they could expect favouritism.

"Where is Mr Malfoy?" Professor Fletcher asked the Slytherins. No one answered. "I know he was at breakfast. Now where has he got to?" Fletcher demanded in a louder voice. Still no reply. "Let's see, that will be…"

At that moment Draco Malfoy came through the door. Fletcher turned and demanded, "And just what was so important that you decided to waste my time and this class'?"

Malfoy stared sullenly at the professor. "I had to send an important message to my family. It was an emergency."

"I see. Well your emergency is going to cost Slytherin twenty points for being late. Parkinson?"

"Here."

Harry looked over at Ron again. Ron was positively gleeful, but Harry had a bit of a sinking feeling. If Fletcher was ready to be so harsh with a member of his own house, he was certainly going to be strict with everyone. Harry could only hope he'd be fair. It seemed as if Hermione shared some of Harry's worries, judging by her expression.

"Zabini?"

"Here."

"As you know, I am replacing Professor Snape this year. My job will be to prepare you to take your NEWTs. The potions you will be preparing this year will require a great deal of precision and concentration. Attention to detail will be very important. I therefore will not tolerate any unnecessary talking or messing about in this class. You will work in with partners. I will allow you to choose your partners for now, but I will reassign partners if I deem it necessary."

Ron had slouched down into his seat now, seeming to try to make himself as small as possible. Whatever optimism he may have felt upon entering the class had definitely vanished. Hermione, on the other hand, looked at Fletcher rather approvingly. She seemed ready to take on the challenge.

Half an hour later, Harry was furiously chopping dragon scales for the Fortitude Potion the class was making. It was difficult enough to cut them in the first place, as they were so tough, but achieving the uniform dice required by the potion was nearly impossible. Fletcher was moving from table to table criticising technique. He'd even found an excuse to take points from Gryffindor when he found Parvati's tarot cards lying on her chair.

It didn't add to Harry's confidence that he'd been stuck working with Neville. Becoming a prefect may have done wonders for Neville's self-confidence, but it hadn't made him any more competent at Potions. For a few moments, Harry had been tempted to avenge himself for Neville's making him come up to bed the night before, but now he was glad he'd decided against it. Harry had already averted disaster once, stirring their bubbling brew down as it threatened to boil over. He had no doubt that would have cost Gryffindor even more house points.

Harry had just finished muttering the final incantation ('fortitudem frimare') over the cauldron when Professor Fletcher announced that time was up. There were still about fifteen minutes left in the period, the time usually allotted to cleaning up, but the potions teacher had something else in mind.

"We are going to test your results now. One student of each pairing will take some of the potion. Everyone will receive marks based on the results of the entire class. In other words, the more of you that have got it right, the higher your mark will be."

Harry cringed slightly. He looked quickly around the class, trying to assess how many of them were likely to have made a proper Fortitude Potion. He was certain Hermione and Ron had done it right. Malfoy had always done well with Snape, so there was a good chance his was right, as well. On the other hand, Crabbe and Goyle were sure to have botched theirs--they'd be fortunate not to need some sort of antidote. As for his own potion, when Neville was your partner, you could never be sure what to expect.

This brought another problem to Harry's mind. The last thing Neville needed was anything that would give him more backbone. He was already impossible. But Harry wasn't at all sure he wanted to sample any potion Neville had had a hand in making.

Professor Fletcher was walking over to their table, looking rather displeased. Millicent Bulstrode had apparently done something wrong and turned a rather interesting shade of puce as a result. Acting quickly, Harry grabbed a ladle and gulped down a mouthful of the potion. Its foul taste caused him to grimace.

"Well, Potter?" demanded Fletcher. "Do you feel any different?"

Glumly, Harry shook his head. It was difficult to tell what Fletcher was thinking. His face remained completely impassive. Fletcher continued on. Harry was surprised when Ron told the teacher that he felt no effects of the potion, either. Harry had expected Hermione, at least, to get the potion right. After Fletcher had finished his rounds, he merely said he was disappointed in the results. He did not announce what mark he was giving the class.

When the bell finally rang, a general feeling of relief pervaded the room, as everyone gathered up his things and headed to the Great Hall for lunch. None of the seventh year Gryffindors said much during the meal. They were all still shell-shocked. On top of a harrowing class, the potion Harry had taken was weighing heavily on his stomach, effectively killing his appetite. In the middle of it all, Ginny came in and sat in the empty seat across from Harry. She played with her food, not taking a single bite until Hermione asked her if anything was bothering her.

Ginny looked up at Hermione, her eyes wary. "No, nothing's wrong." But there was something in the way she said it that made Harry certain she wasn't being truthful.

Hermione pursed her lips and tried a different approach. "Have you had Potions class yet?"

Ginny continued to play with her food, and her reply was non-committal. "Not yet."

"You'll want to watch out for Fletcher," warned Ron. "He's at least as bad as Snape. He doesn't even give his own house a break."

Ginny didn't look up or reply. "What class did you just come from then?" asked Hermione.

Ginny mumbled something that Harry didn't catch. Ron and Hermione exchanged a look. "Sorry I didn't hear you."

"Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Ron perked up at this. The seventh year Gryffindors weren't due to have this class until later that afternoon. "So what's Krum like?"

Ginny looked up at her brother. "He's creepy."

"What did he do?" asked Ron, astonished.

"I don't want to talk about it." And she got up and left the table.

Harry watched her go, feeling as if there was a leaden weight in his stomach. He remembered Viktor Krum from the Triwizard Tournament and had almost always thought he was all right. An image of Krum putting the Cruciatus Curse on Cedric Diggory flashed through his mind, raising doubts. No, Harry reminded himself. Krum had been under the Imperius Curse at the time; he hadn't been acting of his own volition.

Hermione, meanwhile, was defending Krum to Ron. "He was always a perfect gentleman with me. He's quite nice."

"And just when have you been around him lately?" argued Ron. "You haven't seen him since fourth year." This much was true. Hermione and Krum may have exchanged an owl or two since then, but she hadn't been able to visit Bulgaria that summer. Her parents hadn't been inclined to take her, and there never had been a question of her going by herself.

Harry looked up at the head table where Krum was seated between Professor Grubbly-Plank and Professor Sprout, eating his lunch and chatting with the other professors. It all looked amicable enough, and Harry couldn't detect anything odd or creepy in his demeanour. He'd have to pay closer attention later that afternoon.

When they got to Defence Against the Dark Arts, Harry made sure he took a front seat, in order to observe Krum's behaviour more closely. Ron and Hermione seemed ready to go along with this plan. Once the class was over, Harry couldn't say that'd he'd noticed anything particularly off about Krum, except…

"I can't believe he spent that whole class going over Hinkypunks!" Hermione complained once the final bell had rung. "We're in our last year. We're at war, for heaven's sake, and he wastes the class going over something we learned in third year!"

"Calm down, Hermione," said Ron. "Perhaps he was revising."

"Why would he choose to revise that of all things? We had Hinkypunks on our OWLs. If we don't know that by now, we never will. Why couldn't we learn something useful, like how to conjure a Patronus?"

"He's new to teaching, Hermione. Maybe this was his way of getting into the subject slowly. With all the work that's being piled on us in other classes, I'm glad someone is giving us a break."

"Ron, this is probably our most important class. We ought to be learning something useful. I'm sure he could show us a thing or two. If Dumbledore hired him, he must be qualified."

While Harry privately agreed with Hermione about Defence Against the Dark Arts being their most important class this year, he also agreed with Ron about having a bit of a break. He knew he could always make up some ground on his own time by reading the book Hermione had given him for his birthday. If he ever managed to find some time to himself. With his course-load, Quidditch (once the season started) and Neville's curfew, there wasn't very much time left he could call his own.

"Ron, about Quidditch…" Harry broke in.

"What?" Ron was clearly distracted by his argument with Hermione. It had become a sort of game with them.

"Are we going to hold try-outs for reserve players or not?"

"Oh, sure. Why don't you put up a notice in the common room? I think Hermione needs a nice walk outside to, erm, unwind." The weather had finally turned warm and sunny, and most students were out enjoying the day now that classes were over.

Harry went back to Gryffindor Tower by himself. He set his bag down on a table in the common room and searched for a decent piece of parchment. He thought about what he was going to put in the notice and realised that Ron hadn't even set a date to hold try-outs. He sighed. Ron was supposed to be Quidditch captain; it was up to him to make these decisions. He also noticed he didn't have any parchment that was in good enough condition to make up a notice. He'd have to get some from his trunk upstairs. While he was there, he decided he might as well get some different coloured ink to make his notice stand out.

Harry climbed the steps to the seventh year boys' dormitory and was surprised to find the door closed. Not only that, it was locked. He paused for a moment and considered. None of the others had come up here: they'd all just come from class together. So who could have locked the door? Harry drew his wand. "Alohomora!"

The door swung open, and he walked into the room. A figure was rummaging through his trunk. The person's back was turned, but red hair was unmistakable. Harry cleared his throat, and Ginny froze.

"What are you doing, Ginny?"

She straightened and turned, her face flooding with colour. "Harry!" she gasped. She hesitated, obviously embarrassed at being caught. "Erm, would you mind closing the door?"

Harry raised his eyebrows at her. Whatever had been bothering her earlier seemed to be an issue no longer. She was definitely up to something: her eyes were sparkling with mischief. When Harry didn't do as she'd asked, she sighed and went over to the door herself. Harry heard her mutter a Locking Charm.

Harry walked over to his trunk. Everything seemed to be in its place. Ginny must have just got there when he'd interrupted her. "Are you going to tell me what you were doing going through my things?" he asked again, crossing his arms over his chest.

"I was looking for your birthday present."

Harry's heart began to pound. She couldn't know about Sirius' book, could she? And what gave her the right to come up here and take it without asking? "My birthday present? Listen Ginny…"

"I'm sorry. I didn't think you'd mind."

"Mind? Of course I mind! You can't just come up here and go through my things!"

She fixed her gaze at the floor, colouring further. "Well, I thought I could use it to get a little revenge." She looked him straight in the eye now. "You know, on Neville."

Harry stared at her. What did Sirius' book have to do with that? And how did she even know about it? Harry remembered Hermione sprawled out with it on Ron's bed, and he wondered what, exactly, she'd read in it to make her say something about it to Ginny, something which would give Ginny the impression she could use it for revenge on Neville. "I don't understand. Maybe you'd better explain from the beginning."

Ginny frowned slightly, as if the answer ought to be obvious. "The twins gave you a whole box of tricks, Harry. Remember?" She said it slowly as if she was talking to a small child. "Didn't it ever occur to you to do something to Neville to get back at him for last night?"

Harry felt his face heat, whether at the reminder of what had almost happened in the common room or because he felt stupid for not guessing her purpose sooner, he didn't know. "Oh."

"Well, what else could you have thought?"

Harry knew better than to answer that. Instead, he reached into his trunk and pulled out the twins' present. He sat down on his bed with it. "What do you fancy?"

Ginny came over and after a moment's hesitation, sat down beside him. Harry felt as if the temperature in the room had risen several degrees. "What does all this do?" she asked, leaning over slightly to look at the contents of the box. Her thigh brushed against his.

"Er, I'm not sure what all of it does, yet. Do you have any idea what you want to do to him?"

"Not really. I thought I'd get some ideas by looking at this stuff."

"Oh, well, you know, we'll have to come up with something fast before someone decides to come up here. You're not supposed to be up here in the first place. I thought you knew that, as a prefect." He grinned at her and nudged her with his shoulder, feeling an odd tingle pass through him at the contact.

Ginny nudged back. "Shut it, you. Besides, I put a Locking Charm on the door."

"Which I broke through with a spell that Hermione discovered in first year. Honestly, if the twins knew about this, you'd never live it down."

Ginny looked up at him and opened her mouth to say something, but instead their gazes locked. Harry was suddenly aware that they were completely alone in his dormitory with the door locked. He had a strange feeling that if the twins were ever to find out that he'd sat on his bed with their sister, and all he'd done was look at some joke items and tease her, he'd never live it down, either. He felt the smile fade from his face, as he saw Ginny's do the same.

A noise outside on the landing shattered the moment. Someone was trying unsuccessfully to open the door. It was only a matter of time until whoever it was resorted to magic. Ginny looked at Harry in a panic. He motioned to her to stay silent. Moving as quickly and quietly as possible, Harry stuffed the box of practical jokes into his trunk and pulled out his invisibility cloak. Out on the landing, a muffled voice could be heard reciting an incantation. When the door didn't open immediately, they knew it was Neville. Harry grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her against the wall as he threw the invisibility cloak over the two of them.

The door opened and Neville came storming in, ready to take points off whoever had had the audacity to lock him out of his dormitory. He stopped short when he saw that the room appeared empty. Harry knew that Neville could not see either him or Ginny, but that did not stop his heart from pounding. He was obliged to stand very close to Ginny to ensure that the cloak covered the two of them, and he couldn't stop himself from noticing how well she might fit against him. Her head came up to his shoulder, as if it was made to lie there, and he was tempted to put his arms around her to see how she would feel in them.

Neville was looking around the room suspiciously, trying to determine what had happened. When he turned up no clues, he turned and began looking through Dean Thomas' night table. Then he proceeded to go through Dean's trunk. Harry was outraged. Prefect or no, what right did Neville have to do that? Harry was about to throw off the cloak and confront Neville, when he remembered he couldn't give Ginny away. He looked into her eyes and saw the questions evident there, but he had no answers for her.

Neville finished with Dean's things and moved on to Seamus' night table. Harry swallowed. Neville was obviously going to search through everyone's private belongings, and Harry's bed was next in line. He and Ginny were wedged into the space between his bed and night table. It was going to be next to impossible to escape detection once Neville got that far. Reflexively, Harry pushed them both closer to the wall, trying to take up as little space as possible.

They could hear Neville muttering to himself, as he rifled through Seamus' things. Harry thought he heard the words "Butterbeer Hardcore", but it was difficult to tell. His heart was still pounding, the sound of it loud in his ears. In another minute, Neville would move on to Harry's things, and the game might very well be up then.

Harry's mind raced as he went over the possibilities in his mind, and he found himself wishing that he'd hidden under the bed with Ginny. He considered coming out of hiding to confront Neville once more, but there was no way of conveying this plan silently to Ginny. It's success hinged on her knowing to stay hidden under the cloak. When things began to look really desperate, Harry drew his wand intending to put the Full Body Bind on Neville at unawares.

"Mr Longbottom! What is the meaning of this?"

Neville had been standing less than a foot from them, his hand extended to open the drawer of Harry's night table, when Professor McGonagall's voice caused him to freeze on the spot. Harry let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. He looked at Ginny to see her eyes widen. On one hand the arrival of the head of Gryffindor House had saved them from discovery; on the other, they weren't out of the woods yet by a long shot, and they both knew it.

"Pr-Professor McGonagall," Neville stammered, and for a moment Harry was reminded of how Neville had looked during their third year when it had been discovered that he'd left the list of passwords lying about, permitting Sirius Black to gain admittance to Gryffindor Tower. "I was… I was just…"

Professor McGonagall entered the room, crossed her arms and tapped a foot expectantly.

"I'd heard that someone had a stash of contraband, Professor," said Neville, regaining his composure. "I was conducting a search."

"This is not proper procedure for conducting a search, Mr Longbottom. You ought to know that. It's a good thing I heard about this. This is a very serious matter, Mr Longbottom. Come with me. I believe we need to hold an emergency prefects' meeting." And she frog-marched Neville out of the room.

Harry let out a much longer sigh of relief, as he took the invisibility cloak and stepped away from Ginny. She was giggling.

"Ginny, you're going to have to get out of here now," Harry pointed out. "You'll have to go to that prefects' meeting."

Ginny looked disappointed. "Damn it, you're right. But I'm not through with him. Whatever McGonagall decides to do to him, I'm still planning revenge."

"We'll have to plan it later."

Ginny turned and gave him a searching look. Then a smile spread over her face. She looked at the invisibility cloak in Harry's hands. "I imagine that's very useful for sneaking out after curfew," she remarked.

"Erm, yeah, it is. It's served a time or two."

"So meet me tonight, and we'll finish this. I've got to run. Which is Neville's bed?"

Harry pointed it out, and Ginny drew her wand. "Drapus curtus!" Harry watched as the blankets flew off of Neville's bed and rearranged themselves. The bed looked perfectly made once more, but Harry was sure Neville would have a hard time getting into it tonight. "And that's just for starters," Ginny said before leaving the room.

*

Harry lay in bed later that night listening to the other boys' snores. He was certain they were all asleep by now, but it wasn't time for him to meet Ginny in the common room yet. Earlier in the evening she'd slipped him a note that said she'd be meet him at one AM. He had the invisibility cloak ready, along with the box of practical jokes.

When his watch indicated the time had come, Harry slipped out of bed, donned the invisibility cloak and stole down to the common room. There had been a fire in the grate earlier, but it had died down to glowing embers now, and most of the room was cast into shadow. "Ginny?" he called in as loud a whisper as he dared, "are you here?"

There was no reply. She wasn't there yet. Harry removed the invisibility cloak and went over to a seat near the fire to wait. He thought back to her odd reaction at lunchtime and determined to ask her about that. Something wasn't quite right there. Whatever had happened with Viktor Krum, by later in the afternoon, she'd acted as if nothing had gone wrong at all that morning. He was also curious about the prefects' meeting. Neville had not turned up at supper, and Hermione had sent everyone up to bed. When Harry had entered the dormitory, Neville was already in bed with the hangings drawn. Presumably he'd remade his bed before climbing into it.

"Harry?" Heard a voice calling softly.

"I'm here," he replied.

The next thing he knew, she was sitting close beside him on the sofa. Her dressing gown and night dress were both white, but the dying embers cast an orange glow about her. She tucked her legs underneath her, causing her to lean closer. Harry felt his cheeks begin to heat and was glad of the darkness, which hid his blush.

"Do you still want to get revenge on Neville?" he asked.

"Oh, yes, although I don't suppose the matter is as pressing as it was." She paused and giggled. "He was in quite a lot of trouble earlier on. He came very close to losing his prefect's badge. We voted on it, you know."

"And how did you vote?"

"I voted to keep him on. Had to, really. How would it have looked if I'd voted against a prefect from my own house? Malfoy voted against him, of course."

"No surprise there."

"No, and the other Slytherins voted with Malfoy. It was much closer than you'd have expected."

This was likely true. Even though he'd been awkward, Neville had been well enough liked by his peers in the past. It was only the seriousness, with which he took his present role as a prefect, that had contributed to any unpopularity. But not in Malfoy's case. Malfoy had held Neville in contempt ever since first year.

Ginny shifted, and her arm brushed against Harry's. He looked down at her, meeting her eyes. For a moment he couldn't look away, but he finally forced himself to. Here he was, finally having a normal conversation with Ginny, and he was a bit reluctant to allow himself to become distracted by… other matters just yet. He still hadn't asked her about Viktor Krum, but he didn't want to ruin things by upsetting her.

"Perhaps Neville will relax a bit now," he said to fill the silence.

"Yeah, I think he's had a good scare. So, what did he think about his bed being short-sheeted?"

Harry smiled into the darkness. "Dunno. He was already in bed when I went up earlier."

"Then he's definitely had a good scare."

"And you still want to get revenge?"

"Of course I do."

"Remind me never to cross you."

"It doesn't have to be much." She laughed again, more richly this time. "I'm already getting away with something against the rules by being down here tonight." Her tone had changed as she said this, and Harry was sure she was trying to insinuate something.

His impression was confirmed when he felt her shift against him again. He was more aware than ever that they were alone in the dark. He turned towards her once more and found her looking at him. He swallowed. This was it. Just don't think about it… He leaned closer, and she did the same. He touched his lips to hers carefully and experienced the same rush as he had the last time. He pulled back after a moment when he realised his glasses were getting in the way. There was now a large smudge on one of the lenses where it had pressed against her cheek.

He was surprised when she reached up, plucked the glasses from his nose and laid them aside, before placing her hand at the nape of his neck and leaning close once more. He met her halfway, and it all seemed much easier this time. He could feel her begin to kiss him back, and the sensation sent a shock wave through him. He tilted his head a little further to the side, while his hands found their way to her waist, seeking to draw her closer to him. Then she opened her mouth under his, and he had no choice but to follow, and conscious thought left him for a while.

When at last they broke apart, they each had to pause and catch their breath. Ginny's fingers had somehow twined themselves into his hair, and Harry's hands were still stroking her back. They must have found their way there on their own. He'd never imagined she would taste so sweet, that she would feel so warm and alive in his arms. He would have told her so, but he wasn't feeling very articulate at the moment. A breathless "wow" was the best he could manage.

Ginny giggled and burrowed in against him. His arms tightened around her of their own accord, and he held her quietly while his hands discovered the soft texture of her hair. He felt her relax against his chest and remembered it was very late. They both needed to go to bed soon, and there was still the matter of her behaviour at lunch.

"Ginny," he began tentatively, unsure of her reaction. "I need to ask you something. It's about earlier."

She drew back and looked at him. He reached for his glasses and put them back on so he could see her properly. "What?" she asked.

"Earlier at lunch…" He broke off. He really didn't want to upset her now.

"What about it?" She sounded genuinely confused.

"What happened in Defence Against the Dark Arts that set you off like that?"

"Nothing. Nothing at all."

This didn't add up. She sounded as if she honestly didn't know what he was on about. "But you said Krum was creepy. What made you say that?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about, Harry."

He decided not to pursue the matter with her. The last thing he wanted to do now was argue with her. He merely filed the problem away to reflect on later. He felt she was telling the truth now, as he felt what she'd said about Krum at lunch was true. The problem was, the two truths contradicted each other. He only had to work out why.

He stood up, extending a hand to her to help her up. "It's late. We'd better get to bed." Gathering his invisibility cloak and box from the twins, he led her to the girls' staircase, where he softly kissed her good night.

Harry came down to the common room early on Saturday morning. Ron had reserved the Quidditch pitch for try-outs, and the whole team needed to be present to vote for whom they took on as reserve players. Harry was feeling surprisingly refreshed in spite of the early hour. His headache-free nights had continued since his return to Hogwarts. He didn't think he'd had even one nightmare. In fact, since the other night, his dreams had taken a much more pleasant turn.

He paused for a moment at the bottom of the boys' stairs. Ginny was already down in the common room. Harry felt himself start to redden as he thought of the last time they'd been alone together down here. They hadn't had much of an opportunity to meet again or even say anything about what had happened. It wasn't as if Ginny had been avoiding him exactly. It was just that… He wasn't even sure. Over the past few days, she'd been managing to turn up in a seat near him at meals often enough, or to find a spot at the same table with him to do homework, but at bedtime she'd never waited for him or tried to hold him back, either.

"Hi, Ginny." That came out more easily than expected. "Are you coming to try-outs?"

"Yeah, I thought I might. I suppose I've been thinking about what you said last summer." Was it his imagination, or was she blushing?

"I'm sure you'll be great. Good luck."

Someone else was coming down the stairs. Soon most of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, along with those who were coming to try-outs, was going down to breakfast. It had been like this for the past few days. Every time Harry had managed to speak two words to Ginny, someone else happened along.

He watched her surreptitiously throughout breakfast and noticed she wasn't eating much. He wondered if she was nervous about the upcoming try-outs. He was distracted when Ralph Chapman and Kevin Graham, the Gryffindor Beaters, arrived at the breakfast table at the last possible minute. Neither of them ever spoke very much, but they mumbled apologies to Ron. They'd apparently been kept up very late at a detention for Argus Filch, who had caught them drooling on the paintings in one of the corridors.

When they'd all gone down to the pitch, and Ron had led them all through a warm-up, Harry tried to keep an eye on things down by the goal posts as Ron took his sister and the other hopefuls for the Keeper position aside to begin to test their skills. He had his own group of potential Seekers to concentrate on, however, and he was soon too caught up with them to keep tabs on how Ginny was getting along.

After a while, Ron created two teams out of the most promising hopefuls, and then they began to play in earnest. Harry was supposed to be watching the action from the sidelines so he could cast his vote later for the best players, but he was too busy watching how Ginny was doing. He found himself crossing his fingers for her. If she was on the team with him, it would mean more chances for them to spend time together. She was playing all right, he thought, but not as well as she had at the Burrow. Of course, she was going up against proper Chasers, now, not just him. She was definitely trying her best, but she still seemed nervous to him. It gave him a start to see her practically drop off her broom into the Starfish and Stick position, and even more so, when she didn't right herself as smoothly as she might have. Somehow this move had never seemed all that dangerous when Ron did it.

When the game was declared over, Harry had a great deal of trouble deciding whom he would choose for the reserve team, beyond Ginny and the Seeker, since he'd spent some time with the prospects for that position. The simplest route to take would have been to vote for the members of the winning side, but that would have left Ginny off the team. Apparently the other Keeper had performed better than she had. Or the Chasers on Ginny's side had been less effective. He had no way of knowing.

In the end, he voted for Ginny as Keeper, but the result of that particular contest ended in a tie. Ron had opted out of the votes since his sister was in the running, but now he was obliged to choose between the two. He looked suddenly uncomfortable, as he stood hesitating. Finally he cast an apologetic glance over at his sister and cleared his throat. "I'll have to go with Pinnett as Keeper."

Harry looked over at Ginny and saw her face fall. He was rather disappointed himself.

"That'll be all then," Ron announced to the team. "Regular practice will begin Tuesday after classes. All regular team members and reserves report then."

As everyone else started back to the castle, Harry stayed behind to help Ron put the balls away.

"Tough break for Ginny," Harry ventured.

"I know," said Ron. "But Pinnett was just better. She's not going to be very pleased with me, though." Ron glanced over to where the others were heading towards the castle. Ginny seemed to be lagging behind the others. "I don't know what to say to her. Wish Hermione was here. She always knows what to say."

"You're going to have to say something sometime. Just tell her the truth."

Ron finished strapping down the last of the Bludgers and straightened. "I suppose you're right. Best to get it over with."

He hurried to catch Ginny up, Harry following at a slower pace and wondering what Ginny's reaction would be. It wasn't very good, as things turned out. Harry hung back while Ginny ranted at her brother before heading off towards the Forbidden Forest. Ron watched her go, but he didn't follow. Instead he began to walk slowly towards the castle, his feet dragging.

Harry was beginning to feel somewhat responsible for her being hurt. She'd told him just this morning that she'd considered trying out for the team because he'd encouraged her. He hesitated for a moment and then followed Ginny, catching up with her on the edge of the forest. "Wait up, Ginny."

She turned on him, her face red and streaked with tears. She swiped angrily at them. "What do you want?"

In spite of her belligerence, Harry felt as if what she really needed was a hug, but he wasn't sure he dared. He put the hand that wanted to reach out and touch her shoulder in his pocket, wishing he had a better idea of where he stood with her.

"Erm…" What was he supposed to say to her, anyway? She'd just finished giving Ron an earful and didn't look ready for any more sympathy, however sincere.

"Stupid git of a brother!" It looked as if he was going to get an earful, no matter what, but then she did a complete turn around. "I… I wasn't that bad, was I?"

"No, of course you weren't. If you were really dreadful, do you think you'd have got votes from half the team?"

"No, I suppose not. And the school broom I was using didn't help matters," she grumbled. "Actually, if I'd made the team, that would have been a problem, wouldn't it?"

It wasn't very likely the Weasley family could have afforded a quality broom for her. The only reason Ron had a decent one was the twins had contributed to out of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes earnings (before they'd left school and gone to work for Zonko's), while Harry had quietly furnished a good part of the balance. It had been presented to Ron as a collective present when he'd made the house team at the beginning of fifth year, and he hadn't been able to protest much, since everyone had told him the team's chances hinged on his success.

"I'm sure someone would have managed something."

Ginny didn't look so certain of this, however. "In any case, I got so nervous," she went on, reddening slightly and looking away. "It was nothing like playing for fun at home. I would have been a wreck if it had been an actual match."

Harry felt he should say something to reassure her. "I get nervous, you know."

She looked surprised. "You do? It never shows."

"You mean you never noticed how I never eat before a big match?"

"Oh, right."

"It goes away though. The nerves. Once I'm in the air…" He broke off. She probably didn't want to hear this. "At any rate, I'm sorry you didn't make the team."

"I'll get over it, I suppose."

"I… I wanted you to make the team," he admitted. She had no way of knowing whom he'd voted for unless he told her. The voting had been carried out in secret. "I voted for you."

"I'll just…You did?"

"Yeah. Well it was a bit difficult for me to vote for Pinnett, wasn't it? I didn't see a thing he did."

Harry's face began to heat. Ginny was going redder as well, but she was looking at him again. Straight into his eyes, they way she'd looked the other night in the common room. He took a step closer. Damn, he was thinking about kissing her again, and he wasn't sure if this was a good time or not. It couldn't be, could it? She'd just been angry and crying, although that seemed to have been diffused now. He took another step. Her eyes were captivating.

Then her lips parted slightly, almost as if she'd read his mind, and it was all over. He put his hands on her shoulders and bent his head to hers. He thought she sighed in the second before their lips met. He kissed her softly, wanting to comfort her above all else. He didn't even stop to wonder where these feelings were coming from. By the time he broke off, she had slipped her arms around his waist. He rested his chin on the top of her head and held her, as he had wanted to do from the beginning. She felt good in his arms.

After a while, she stirred, and he loosened his embrace. She pushed back and looked at him again, and Harry suddenly found himself at a loss for words. What were they to each other? Not just friends, not now. Did she consider him to be her boyfriend? He thought he'd like that. He knew he ought to ask her, but he couldn't seem to get the words out.

"So do you want to go for a walk or something?" It was a start.

"After lunch, perhaps. I think I'd like to go in and get cleaned up. Maybe have a shower."

"Right." Harry hadn't really considered it, but he had been out exerting himself for part of the morning, and he'd managed to get rather sweaty. Ginny had had an even more thorough work out. "We'll go in then."

He took her hand, and they started back to the castle together.

"So where did you learn to do the Starfish and Stick?" She certainly hadn't tried anything like that when they'd played at the Burrow.

"I've been practising." She sounded proud of herself in spite of the outcome of today's try-outs. "I've seen Ron do it enough times, and I worked out how to do it, and, well…"

Harry squeezed her hand. "I'm really sorry you didn't make the team, Ginny."

"I'll get by, one way or another."

*

The following week, classes began in earnest. If the seventh years thought they'd had loads of homework the first week back, it was nothing compared to the deluge that awaited them the second. Potions class continued to be torture, and Harry never did find out what had gone wrong with his Fortitude Potion, until Hermione unearthed a footnote in some obscure potions manual, which claimed that the potion, when properly prepared, showed no effect on the taker unless he was in immediate danger. "You'd think Fletcher might have pointed that little detail out," Ron had grumbled.

Divination continued to be a thorn in Harry side, even without constant predictions of his untimely death. He'd turned in his tarot card essay, but he still wasn't sure if he'd got it right. It was all a load of rubbish to him anyway, and he couldn't possibly see how laying the cards out differently would change matters. He didn't dare ask Lavender or Parvati for help again, though. That first reading had been embarrassing enough, and he hated the knowing looks they gave him whenever they spotted him and Ginny in close proximity.

He'd also been keeping an eye on Viktor Krum in Defence Against the Dark Arts, but he couldn't find anything unusual or creepy about his behaviour. He hadn't mentioned Ginny's apparent turn-around to Ron and Hermione, since that might lead to sticky questions from Ron about what Harry and Ginny had been doing up so late in the common room together. He had a feeling Ron wouldn't appreciate the answers very much. Ginny herself had never brought up the subject again, and he'd noticed no odd behaviour from her either after she'd come from Krum's class. He wondered if they all hadn't made too much of things.

Defence Against the Dark Arts class itself was becoming very challenging. They'd begun to study various attack strategies, and class had almost become a duelling club. Viktor Krum turned out to be quite demanding, and he seemed very well trained himself. It appeared that Hermione had been right about him. That first class was merely a case of a new teacher finding his feet.

Coupled with the Quidditch practices, which Ron insisted on holding regularly in spite of his own workload, Harry barely had a moment to himself. To make matters worse, Ginny had taken to sitting with him in the evenings while they both did their homework. While he certainly didn't mind the company, her presence tended to be distracting. He was working furiously now, trying to complete an essay for Care of Magical Creatures before she returned from a prefects' meeting this evening. If he got this out of the way now, he'd be able to afford the distraction later.

Ron was scribbling away just as furiously further along the table, and Harry was sure his motivation for getting the essay out of the way was similar. He had to wonder how Ron managed to keep his marks up at times, but he supposed Hermione had at least something to do with it.

Harry turned back to his essay. He was supposed to be writing about centaurs' various strengths in the field of healing. Professor Grubbly-Plank has managed to convince a centaur from the Forbidden Forest to come into class and talk to the students. Harry had recognised the white blond hair and palomino body. It was Firenze, and Harry had not been surprised. He remembered that Firenze was a little more willing to co-operate with humans than the other centaurs. But there had been something a bit unsettling about their meeting. Harry had remembered that Firenze's eyes had been astonishingly blue, but now they seemed to haunt him. They'd been strangely piercing, seeming to look right through him, and even worse were his words to Harry. "Mars and Venus are both bright in the sky of late," he'd said in an undertone. "Guard what is most precious."

Guard what is most precious, Harry repeated to himself. What was that supposed to mean? He didn't want to mention it to Hermione, knowing how she felt about the art of divination, even if it was coming from a centaur and not Professor Trelawney, and he definitely didn't want to bring it up with Ron. The words had been embarrassing enough, and he was extremely grateful that Malfoy hadn't overheard them. As it was, he had a suspicion that Lavender may have noticed, because he'd heard a familiar giggle behind him at the time, and he'd seen her whispering to Parvati while looking in his direction as they'd all walked back towards the castle at the end of class.

Harry forced himself to scribble another sentence, but his mind was still on what Firenze had said. He continued to have trouble focussing on what he was writing, and by the time Ginny came in through the portrait hole, flanked by Hermione and a very red-faced Neville, he was sure he was going to have to redraft a good portion of his essay.

There'd be little chance of that tonight, though. Ginny had plunked herself down in the seat across from him, grinning mischievously.

Harry looked up, noticing Ron casting a glance their way out of the corner of his eye. "How was the meeting?"

"Oh, it was interesting, very interesting."

"What happened?" Her smile was infectious, and he found himself grinning back. He thought Ron might have raised his eyebrows at them, but he didn't care much what Ron thought at the moment.

"Oh, it's just Neville."

Neville had calmed down quite a bit ever since he'd almost lost his prefect's badge. "What did he do now?"

"Well, you know how he fancies Lisa Turpin?"

Harry had never really paid much attention to such things. "Erm, not really."

"Oh, come on. It's so obvious. You've never noticed how he stares at her at meals? Sits up straighter whenever she walks by the Gryffindor table? Tries to make his hair lie flatter when she's around?"

Harry had to laugh at this last question. Neville had the flattest, straightest hair in the school. "I don't suppose I have noticed any of that, really…"

Ginny rolled her eyes at him. "No I don't suppose you do… Anyway, Neville fancies Lisa, and tonight at the prefects' meeting, he kept trying to get her to notice him, but it wasn't really working. He kept fidgeting about and then sitting up very straight, as if he suddenly realised he was supposed to be sitting properly." She stopped and giggled. "I think everyone but Lisa noticed, and she was sitting right next to him. Well, the meeting went on a bit longer than usual tonight. Filch came in and decided to review the entire list of forbidden items."

"Urgh," commiserated Harry.

"Yeah, that list is up to almost five hundred items now. Ever since Fred and George got hired on at Zonko's, he's been adding items by the dozen. And he had to go through the entire thing. Honestly, some of that stuff hasn't been available for centuries. In any case, no one was paying much attention to what Filch was saying. Neville was rocking back and forth on his chair. I don't think he even realised he was doing it. At the same time, he was fiddling with his wand…" She giggled again, and Harry felt a blush start to creep over his face, as his traitorous mind immediately latched onto the double meaning of what she'd just said. He looked away quickly, hoping she wouldn't notice.

"So Neville accidentally set Lisa's robes on fire," Ginny went on. "I have no idea how he managed to do it."

"Well, this is Neville we're talking about," Harry put in quickly.

"True. And the worst is, just as he did that, he was tilting his chair back on its hind legs, and when he saw her robes begin to smoke, he fell over backwards in surprise."

She laughed again, and Harry joined in at the mental image of Neville sprawled out on the floor. "I really shouldn't laugh," Ginny said. "He got a detention, and it was completely embarrassing for him. Malfoy will be able to tease him about that for the rest of his life. If Neville hadn't been acting like such a prat lately, I would feel sorry for him."

"This ought to take care of any revenge you still need to get on him then, shouldn't it?"

"Yeah, that was better than anything I could come up with. He's been through enough now. Time to let him off the hook. I wonder whatever possessed him to start playing with his wand at a prefects' meeting?"

There it was again, and Harry reddened. She was looking straight at him as she said it, too, as if she was perfectly aware of what she'd just said. He supposed, having six older brothers, that she just might be.

"You get your essay finished yet?" Ron had got up from the table and come over.

"Er, no, not quite…" He wondered why Ron had felt the need to interrupt at this point, but he was grateful all the same.

"Just finished mine." He pulled out the chair next to Harry and sat down. "You'd best get to work of you want to get it finished in time."

"Been spending a bit too much time around Hermione, haven't you? You're starting to steal her lines." Harry tried to keep his tone light, but he couldn't prevent a hint of irritation from creeping in. Since when was Ron so concerned about Harry's marks?

"Well, you know, seventh year. NEWTs and all that."

Harry was about to reply when Ginny cut him off. "Don't be such a prat, Ron. What's it to you if Harry gets his work done or not?"

"Nothing I suppose. But I can tell Mum if you're not getting your work done."

"Try it, and I'll tell Mum about the time you and Hermione…"

Ron cut across her quickly, leaving Harry very curious about what dirt Ginny might have on her brother and his girlfriend. "Look, I'm only trying to help. Don't come crying to me when your marks start slipping." He got up and stalked off towards the boys' stairwell.

"What's got into him?" Ginny asked. "If anyone is hacked off around here, it ought to be me with him."

"Dunno…" But Harry had a good idea. "I think it's us."

"Us? What do you mean?"

"Well, he knows…"

"Knows what?"

Harry looked around to make sure there was no one within earshot. He didn't feel like having Lavender and Parvati speculating over his love life again. "Well, about us…"

"What can he know? And what business is it of his anyway?"

Harry's face was beginning to burn again. "He asked me if I liked you the first night back," he said as quickly as possible.

"WHAT?" To his consternation, Ginny began to laugh. "MY brother, the clueless prat, asked you THAT?"

People were beginning to look over in their direction. "Keep your voice down. Yes, he asked me that!"

"And to think a how long it took him to figure out he liked Hermione… Well, what did you tell him?"

Harry swallowed. It wasn't as if she couldn't know the answer, after all. She could tell Neville fancied Lisa just by watching him. "I said yes, of course."

"And he wasn't happy about it?"

"He thought I was weird, I think."

"Thanks loads."

"Tell him that. That was his reaction, not mine. In any case, he's just going to have to get used to it, isn't he?"

"Depends on what you mean."

Harry shifted uncomfortably. Why was this so difficult? "Well, I thought you might like me back. Am I wrong about that?"

She looked down at the table for a moment before meeting his gaze again. "No, you're not wrong about that."

"So your brother is just going to have to get used to seeing us together, isn't he?" She nodded. "And if he doesn't like it," he continued, "it's just too bad."

They fell silent and looked into each others' eyes across the table. Harry found himself wishing they weren't sitting in the middle of the common room. He heard a giggle that instantly reminded him of Lavender Brown. "So," he said to break the silence. "What did you catch Ron and Hermione at? Or don't I want to know?"

Ginny smiled impishly. "I didn't actually catch them at anything. It just sounded like something good to say, and I was right. I'm going to have to find out what I could have possibly caught them at now…"

Harry stared at her. "Remind me never to let you get anything on me. Not even the hint of something."

She merely continued to smile. Then she picked up her bag, which she'd left on the table earlier, and began to take out her books. "I suppose I ought to get some work done."

Harry nodded and went back to his essay. He managed to write a bit more, as the common room slowly emptied. The curfew wasn't being enforced as strictly now as it had been the first week, but there were classes in the morning. Harry looked over and saw Hermione was still up, catching up on the study time she'd missed during the prefects' meeting. She looked up at about the same time, and caught his eye, her gaze passing from him to Ginny. She smiled knowingly. Five minutes later, she too, closed her books and headed for the girls' stairs. "Don't stay up too late," she called over her shoulder, but if anything, her tone was light.

Harry put down his quill, knowing he hadn't any more chance of getting any work done. Ginny obviously had the same thought, for she put her things away, as well. But at that moment there came the sound of tapping at the window, and whatever thoughts Harry may have been entertaining were interrupted. He opened the window to admit a strange owl, which immediately perched on the windowsill and held out its leg expectantly.

Harry took the parchment, and the owl flew back out into the night. Unfolding the letter, he saw it was from Sirius. This was the first he'd had word from his godfather since his birthday. He read it through quickly, but the expression on his face must have given something away, for Ginny asked, "It's not bad news is it?"

She had remained seated at the table, but now she rose and came over to him, looking concerned. She put a hand on his arm. "It's from Sirius," he told her. Ginny, along with the rest of the Weasley family had been informed of Sirius' innocence in Harry's fifth year. "It's not bad exactly, but…" He trailed off, hesitating for a moment. This was more likely going to affect her, than it did him. "Sirius has been involved in something secret over on the continent somewhere all summer."

"And something's happened?"

"Not exactly, although he says he's been involved in some fighting. But then that's to be expected, I suppose. It's just… Well, he's mentioned running into both Bill and Charlie. Remus Lupin, as well."

"Oh." She seemed to go paler. She, along with the rest of the Weasley family knew that both Bill and Charlie had taken up roles in the Order's forces on the continent, so the news wasn't entirely unexpected. But Harry knew she didn't like to hear that her brothers might have been involved in anything life-threatening.

Harry took the hand she'd laid on his arm and squeezed it. "No one was hurt, I'm sure of it. Sirius would have said something."

"Yes, but still…"

"I know." He didn't stop to think about what he did next; he simply acted. He pulled her into his arms and held her against him, one hand coming up to gently push her head down onto his shoulder. They stood there for a few minutes in silence, while Harry continued to stroke her back.

Then she stirred, and said into his shoulder, "Do you ever feel helpless? Well, maybe that's not what I want to say… useless, I mean. I don't know… Like we're stuck here at school, forced to watch while things happen, and we can't do anything about anything."

He tightened his hold on her. "All the time, Ginny."

He hadn't even told her everything that had troubled him about the letter. From Sirius' descriptions, he felt he should have had some sort of warning that something was going on, even over that distance. Yet this was the first he was learning about it. There'd been continued attacks in England, as well, and yet his head almost never ached anymore. Not that he wasn't grateful, but something was definitely odd about that.

After a few more moments, he touched his lips to her forehead and released her. But she didn't seem ready to let go just yet. She put her arms around his neck and was about to draw him into a kiss, when the portrait hole opened, and Dean Thomas came clambering in.

"Sorry about that," he said brightly, a broad grin on his face. He looked to be in a very good mood, and Harry surmised he'd been off on some sort of tryst.

When he'd disappeared up the boys' stairs, Harry turned back to Ginny who was looking nonplussed. "I suppose we need to find a better place for this," he commented wryly.

"Yeah. Not very private here, is it?"

"No, but I think I have an idea."

She looked intrigued now. "What is it?"

"It's late. Can't really do anything about it now. I'd have to get some things from my dormitory."

"Like your invisibility cloak?"

"Among other things. I promise to let you in on it soon, all right?"

"Looking forward to it, then," she replied grinning. "I guess this is good night. See you at breakfast tomorrow." She pulled him down for a brief kiss before heading up to bed.

The seventh year Gryffindors left their final class of the day the following Friday in good spirits. Part of this was due to the fact that the weekend was upon them, and part was because Professor Flitwick hadn't given them any homework. Harry reckoned the tiny Charms professor was the only merciful teacher in the school. As he headed back towards Gryffindor Tower along with Ron and Hermione, he found himself looking forward to later that evening. He'd been making a few plans since the other night in the common room…

"Harry!" called a breathless voice behind them, interrupting the pleasant train of Harry's thoughts. "Harry! Wait up!" Colin Creevey came sprinting up the corridor towards them.

"Hold on there, man," said Ron. "Slow down. What's got into you?"

Colin was gasping for air and holding his side. When he'd caught his breath, he replied, "Sorry. Just came from Potions, but I wanted to be sure I'd catch one of you." He reached into his school bag and pulled out a handful of photographs. "Look at these." He offered the photos to Harry, but it was Ron who took them from Colin and began to look through them. As he finished with a photo, he passed it along to Harry, who could feel Hermione lean towards him so that she could see them, too.

"What's all this then?" asked Ron.

As far as Harry could tell, the photographs were all of the Slytherin Quidditch team. He watched as Millicent Bulstrode and Gregory Goyle practised the Dopplebeater Defence.

"I've been spying on the opposition," reported Colin happily. Harry and Ron exchanged a look. Neither one had known anything about this.

"How did you manage to take these without getting caught?" asked Hermione.

"I was cunningly disguised, of course."

"How?"

Colin mumbled something inaudible.

"What was that?" asked Ron.

"Polyjuice Potion," repeated Colin more clearly.

"Where'd you get that from?" asked Harry.

"I made it."

"You couldn't have," said Hermione. "It takes over a month to brew. We haven't been back at school that long."

"I started it at home. Dennis helped me come up with the idea."

"Where'd you get the ingredients?"

"I had most of them."

"You had Boomslang Skin?" asked Ron, raising his eyebrows.

"You seem to know an awful lot about it." Harry, Ron and Hermione all looked at each other. After all, they'd managed to make the potion as second year students. Perhaps it wasn't so odd that Colin had managed it. "Listen, that's not even important. Look at this." He took the pictures from Harry and rifled through them until he'd found the one he wanted. He held it up proudly. "Proof. Proof that Malfoy's teaching his team to cheat."

Harry looked closely at the picture. He could see that Malfoy was in it but not a whole lot else. "Just what are we supposed to see in this?" he asked.

"He's got a nail. Right there." Colin pointed but Harry couldn't really see anything that looked like a nail. "He was showing his Chasers how to Quafflepock without getting caught."

"It's a bit small. The image, I mean," said Harry. "I can see it's Malfoy, but beyond that…"

"Well, there's some others…" But all the photos were too small to prove very much.

"Look, Colin," said Ron at last. "I appreciate the thought, but you can't really tell what's going on in these pictures."

Colin's face fell.

"Colin," began Hermione speculatively. Harry could almost see the wheels turning. "Do you know when Slytherin's next practise is?"

"Tomorrow afternoon."

"Would you mind going to have another look?"

"No, not at all, but…"

"You wouldn't need more Polyjuice," she added quickly.

"Hermione," asked Ron. "Just what do you have in mind?"

"Omnioculars," she said. "I still have mine from the Quidditch World Cup. Colin, you can take my Omnioculars down to the pitch with you and use them to watch the Slytherins. Then the entire practice will be in the replay feature. We'll be able to slow down the action and focus in on it. Even if they're not cheating, we'll know their strategy."

"Hermione, that's brilliant," said Ron. "Only one problem. How's he going to do all that without getting caught?"

"Simple. Harry will lend Colin his invisibility cloak, won't you, Harry?"

"Invisibility cloak?" Colin looked surprised and eager to try it all at the same time.

Harry didn't know what to say. He was more than willing to donate the use of his invisibility cloak to better Gryffindor's chances at Quidditch. Unfortunately he needed his invisibility cloak tonight, but he didn't want to mention this in front of Ron. "Yeah, sure," he got out at last. "I can let you have it tomorrow, all right?"

If Ron was going to comment on this, he didn't have a chance. At that moment, they heard someone coming up the corridor towards them. Not wanting to be caught planning a spying mission on the opposition, Colin quickly took the pictures from Harry and stuffed them back into his bag. A moment later, Professor Dumbledore appeared.

"Ah," he said, "The Gryffindor Quidditch captain and Seeker." Harry worked not to blush. How did the Headmaster do that? "As a matter of fact, I need to talk to Harry. Do you mind if I borrow him for a few minutes? You can all go back to your planning session later."

Harry could hardly refuse the Headmaster, especially when it seemed as if he knew exactly what they'd been discussing. He followed Professor Dumbledore down a staircase, as they headed towards the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to the Headmaster's office. Dumbledore gave the password ("Whizzo chocolate!"), the gargoyle leapt aside, and Harry soon found himself seated in front of the old man.

"I've called you into my office, Harry, because I need to ask you if your scar has been bothering you lately."

"Erm, no, sir, it hasn't…" Harry hesitated wondering how much he ought to say. "In fact, I've had a lot fewer headaches since my birthday. But that doesn't make a lot of sense. From the news reports, Voldemort is feeling just as murderous as ever."

"Yes, it would seem that way, wouldn't it? However, I believe the pain in your scar may be affected by distance. If Voldemort was in Europe, that might explain matters."

"Europe?" Sirius was in Europe, he remembered with a jolt. So was Remus Lupin. And Bill and Charlie Weasley. "But so many attacks are happening in England…"

"Yes, that's true, Harry, but just as many atrocities have occurred in Europe. We've been trying to keep track of Voldemort's whereabouts, but earlier in the summer we lost him. We thought he'd left England, but it wasn't completely clear. Some of our operatives have been trying to determine if he's in Europe and, if so, to pin down his location, but to no avail."

"You mean Sirius, don't you?"

"Yes. How did you know?"

"He wrote to me and told me he was on the continent, but he didn't say where exactly or why. I've just now worked it out." Harry didn't mention the latest letter that had indicated that other people he knew might well be involved in the same mission.

"Yes, well, I've had word from Sirius, and he thought he was close, but he had a bit of a set-back. I thought I'd ask you for a bit of confirmation. You telling me your scar hasn't been bothering you, indicates that we're on the right track. Voldemort is in Europe. I'll leave the European operatives in place."

"How can you be so certain?"

"Voldemort cannot be in two places at the same time. Either lackeys are orchestrating the attacks in England or on the continent, with Voldemort behind the others. It's imperative that we know which is true so that we can concentrate our efforts in the right region."

"But what if he's Apparating? Or using a Port Key? Or a Time-Turner?"

"It's not very likely he's Apparating, even in stages. The distances involved are too great. A Time-Turner is not entirely out of the question, but I think it's not a great possibility. As you know, the use of Time-Turners is closely regulated by the Ministry, and while it's always possible that Voldemort obtained one illegally, I still don't think he's using one. The amount of time he'd have to turn merely to travel would exhaust him. He may not be entirely human, but he still needs to rest from time to time. He needs to keep his wits about him to plan everything so carefully."

"And the Port Key?"

"Now that's a bit more difficult to explain. Yes, he could be using a Port Key to travel between back and forth, but I'll let you in on a secret. The Department of Mysteries have been working on a method of following the magical trace a Port Key leaves behind. They've invented a device which allows a witch or wizard to detect the use of a Port Key and to be able to determine where it either went to or came from."

Dumbledore looked fixedly at Harry. Harry was certain that the development of this device was begun at the end of his fourth year. "So if there was a Port Key involved, Sirius would be able to tell."

"Ideally, yes. The device has been tested and has been proven accurate. This is really the first field trial, however, or the first planned trial I should say. Be that as it may, I have every confidence that it works."

"Voldemort's in Europe then."

"Based on what we know, and what you've just said about your scar, yes. I have to draw that conclusion."

"And all the attacks in England?"

"A smokescreen most likely. Although the attack on Diagon Alley seemed like a warning. We must be prepared. The enemy could find a way to strike at any time."

"How did the Death Eaters get through Diagon Alley's defences then?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "That's very simple, Harry. Port Key. We were able to prove that with the Ministry's device. That was actually its first test, although it wasn't planned. Unfortunately, something went wrong, and we were unable to trace the Death Eaters, but I believe that little problem has now been ironed out." He paused here, and his blue gaze seemed to pass straight through Harry. "Is there anything else you'd like to tell me about?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably. He had a feeling he ought to mention the talisman. In fact, he thought, Dumbledore must already suspect something. If he knew about the attack on Diagon Alley, he probably knew that Harry had been present that day, and that something had turned back the Death Eater's curse. He was torn, however. He'd promised Ginny he'd keep her secret.

"No, sir," he replied. He thought Dumbledore looked a bit sharply at him, but it may have been his imagination.

"If you're certain there's nothing else you can tell me, I'll bid you a good afternoon, and an even better evening, then."

He rose, and Harry took this as his cue to leave. He walked back to Gryffindor Tower feeling a bit uneasy. Ginny knew about her brothers being involved in some sort of attack, but she didn't know about Voldemort. Ron knew nothing of any of this. The Headmaster hadn't said anything to Harry about keeping this a secret, but Harry had a feeling that this information was definitely privileged. But it involved Ron's family… He had no idea what he ought to say to either Ginny or Ron about this. It wasn't as if they could do anything about the situation, beyond worry, if they knew about it. Perhaps it would be best not to say anything.

When Harry came through the portrait hole, he was immediately greeted by Ron, who was laughing wildly. "Harry, you'll never guess what we got out of Colin!"

Harry went over to the sofa where Ron and Hermione were sitting. "What?"

"Colin said… He said…"

Ron was laughing too hard by now to continue. Fortunately the common room was nearly empty so Ron's laughter wasn't likely to attract a lot of undue attention. Harry turned to Hermione. "What's he on about?"

Hermione was having difficulty keeping a straight face herself. "Ron managed to worm out of Colin how he planned to spy on the Slytherins since last year."

"Last year? Bit keen, isn't he?"

"Well, you know Colin. Always enthusiastic. Besides, he'd have had to start planning last year to get the recipe and ingredients. Anyway, Ron found out who he Polyjuiced himself as."

"Who?" asked Harry.

"P… Pa… Pansy Parkinson!" Ron was almost purple by now, but he'd managed to calm down long enough to blurt out the name.

Harry had to laugh as well. The image of the small, mousy Gryffindor transforming into the pug-faced blonde Slytherin really was rather comic. But then another thought struck him. "Where'd he get a little bit of Pansy to put in the potion?"

"He set her up," said Ron, who had finally regained his composure enough to speak in complete sentences. "Slipped her a note and claimed it was from Malfoy. She thought she was supposed to meet him by the broom shed for a snog, and she wasn't pleased when it looked as if he'd stood her up. Ranted and kicked a few things. And Colin was hiding nearby the whole time. Said she didn't notice a thing when he Summoned a hair from her head."

Harry didn't know whether to be surprised or impressed. Colin had certainly gone to a great deal of trouble to help out the Gryffindor Quidditch team. In fact, he'd come up with quite an elaborate plan--perhaps more elaborate than was really necessary.

"What's so funny?" Ginny had come in.

"Long story," Ron hedged. "You had to be there."

Ginny and Hermione both glared at him, but he ignored them. Harry spoke up. "I'll tell you later." Ginny looked at him and smiled, her eyes sparkling with what seemed to be anticipation.

Ron let out a groan. "Do you two mind going somewhere else to do that?"

"Do what?" asked Harry at the same time as Hermione exclaimed, "Ron!"

"Look at each other like that," replied Ron.

Harry felt himself begin to redden, but he stood his ground. He'd had about enough of Ron acting like a git over him and Ginny. "Look at each other how? You mean the way you and Hermione do all the time?"

Ron's ears turned pink. "Hermione and I don't make eyes at each other like that."

"You do so," said Ginny. "All the time."

Ron persevered, in spite of Hermione's warning look. "Well, when we do it, it's not so… so…"

"So what?" challenged Ginny.

"So mushy!" he finished triumphantly.

"Ron," said Hermione in a deceptively calm voice. "Can I have a word with you? Privately?" She didn't wait for him to reply but took his hand and dragged him off forcibly into a corner.

"They're about ten times mushier," Ginny confided to Harry, who readily agreed.

Harry never did discover what, exactly, Hermione said to Ron. He didn't quite dare ask, and Ron certainly didn't volunteer the information. Ron did, however, emerge from the surprisingly calm conversation looking contrite, and afterwards he seemed to accept that Harry and Ginny were becoming a couple with considerably more grace.

*

It was nearly midnight, and the common room was almost empty. The younger students had all gone up to bed already, while the older students were by and large occupied with other activities. Ron and Hermione had headed out of the portrait hole over an hour ago, as had Dean Thomas, no doubt off to meet a girl from another house somewhere. Neville was still sitting up in a corner, but he'd seemed very preoccupied ever since the disastrous prefects' meeting where he'd embarrassed himself so thoroughly. Harry was sure he was mooning over Lisa Turpin.

Harry himself put away his books now. It seemed an ideal time to sneak out. He'd brought his invisibility cloak and the Marauders' Map down with him when he'd fetched his books from his dormitory after supper. He shook his head thinking of the Marauders' Map. It had turned up mysteriously in his fifth year, much as his invisibility cloak had his first year. Harry assumed that the Headmaster had retrieved the map from among Mad Eye Moody's things, after it was discovered that Barty Crouch Jr had been impersonating him for Harry's entire fourth year, and restored it to him. How Dumbledore knew whom it belonged to was a mystery Harry hadn't yet fathomed.

"You ready?" he asked Ginny, who had put down her quill when she noticed Harry set his things aside.

"Yeah. Where are we going?"

"You'll see. Let's go." In reality Harry wasn't sure where they were going. Somewhere private, certainly, but beyond that… It all depended what the Marauders' Map would show them.

He hid the invisibility cloak, in which he'd folded the map, under his robes and stood up. Taking Ginny's hand, they both climbed out the portrait hole. Fortunately the Fat Lady was snoring quietly in her portrait, and she didn't wake up to berate them for being out after hours.

There was no one in sight, so Harry took out his cloak and threw it over the two of them. Taking her into an alcove, he said, "Here's how this works. We're invisible, but someone can still discover us, if they bump up against us, say. So we still have to be careful who we run in to. That's where this comes in." He held up the Marauders' Map and drew his wand. "I solemnly swear I'm up to no good."

He heard Ginny gasp as spidery lines began to appear on the parchment. "What's that then?" she asked, sounding very interested.

"Map of Hogwarts. Look." He pointed to the small dots on the map. H. Potter and G. Weasley were clearly indicated just outside the Gryffindor common room. "It also shows where everyone is in the castle."

"Where did you get this?" She was clearly impressed.

"From the twins, actually. They gave it to me in third year."

"They gave this to you? Why didn't they keep it for themselves?"

"Don't suppose they needed it anymore. They'd had all the secret passages memorised by then."

Ginny looked at the map. Her finger traced one of the tunnels. "Where does that one go? It looks like it leads off the map."

"Oh, all those tunnels lead into Hogsmeade. But they don't all work. Some of them are caved in, and Filch knows about some of them. The best one, really, is this one. It leads straight to Honeyduke's."

Ginny was still studying the map. "Look, I've found where Ron and Hermione are."

Harry saw her point to what should have been an empty classroom. Two dots, so close together that they seemed to make one larger dot, were marked H. Granger and R. Weasley. "We won't go there, then. And we'll avoid the trophy room. Peeves is in there."

"We could stay right where we are."

Harry looked down at her. Her eyes were sparking again, and a tingle of awareness coursed through him. "Tempting as that sounds, all these people are going to have to come back up here at some point. It's going to get noisy when they do. Look. There are Lavender and Seamus in the Astronomy Tower."

"Looks as if all the good spots are taken. There's Dean and Padma in the Prefects' Bathroom. Ugh! Draco Malfoy is meeting…" She trailed off, as she leaned closer to the map, squinting. "Does that say… Sally Ann Perks? There's no accounting for taste, is there?"

But Harry was still caught up on something else she'd said. "Wait. Just how do you know where all the good spots are?"

"I've heard things," she said, wide-eyed.

Harry wasn't sure he believed her, and he didn't like the feeling of jealousy that passed through him. It was hardly his place to say anything if she'd been snogging other boys, after all, and he knew it. But still… He set the feeling aside. "Come on," he said. "I think I have an idea."

He took her hand again, keeping the Marauder's Map in the other, so that if Filch or Mrs Norris should be patrolling the corridors, they wouldn't have a nasty surprise. Harry took Ginny down to the fourth floor, where he remembered there was a sort of storage room. The room contained some disused pieces of furniture from the various common rooms, and Harry was rather surprised to see that the map indicated it was empty. It seemed a fairly ideal place to take a girl, and Harry had to assume that not very many students knew of its existence.

Ginny seemed impressed, as Harry led them to the least broken-down of the sofas. "How did you find this place?" she asked when they were seated. "I've never heard of this room before."

Harry waved his wand at the door to shut it before replying. "I discovered it last year in my wanderings." He pulled the invisibility cloak off of them. He didn't expect anyone to come poking around now that he'd had confirmation from Ginny that this room was fairly secret.

"So this is your spot, then." It sounded as if she was insinuating that he often brought girls down here, and she didn't seem very happy about it, judging from her tone. There was something satisfying about that.

"No, I mean, not really. I've never come down here. I just discovered it. I've never really used it."

"Oh."

She sounded much happier, as she lay her head on his shoulder. Harry hesitated and then put his arm around her. He wasn't sure what he was supposed to do now. He knew what was expected, he knew what he wanted to do, but it might be nice to talk a bit first. So he started telling her about Colin, and it was very pleasant to simply sit with her and laugh. At one point Harry found himself playing with a few strands of her hair, although he didn't consciously remember starting.

Their laughter faded, and Ginny raised her head. Looking down, Harry met her eyes, and they stared for a moment. Then he felt an anticipatory thrill, when she reached up to remove his glasses. She placed a hand on his cheek and drew him in. Their kisses were short and soft at first, but as Harry's confidence grew, he opened his mouth and began to explore. He felt Ginny fall limp against him, and that only encouraged him further.

A loud yowling sound invaded Harry's consciousness sometime later. He removed his lips from Ginny's, and they stared at each other, hearts pounding and breathless. She had somehow managed to crawl into his lap, or maybe he'd put her there; he couldn't remember.

The howl came again, accompanied by a scratching noise at the door. Harry searched for a moment before grabbing the Marauder's Map, which had found its way to the floor and which he'd neglected to erase. He stared at it for a second, wondering why it was all blurry, then he remembered his glasses. He took them from Ginny, who was grinning mischievously. A small dot labelled Mrs Norris was right outside the door. They could hear more scratching and snuffling. Then there was silence. Harry could see the dot on the map moving swiftly away, towards a staircase that came out near the Trophy Room one floor below. He could see that Filch was in there, doubtless attracted by whatever trouble Peeves had managed to dredge up.

"It was Mrs Norris, and she's gone for Filch," Harry informed Ginny. "We'll have to move fast." He glanced at the map once more. The route back to Gryffindor Tower seemed clear at the moment. Throwing the invisibility cloak back over their heads, Harry took Ginny's hand, and they made their way to the seventh floor as quickly as they could. Luckily, they met no one on the way. Harry thought the hour must be very late. He had no idea how much time had passed while they were on the sofa.

The Fat Lady was still snoring in her frame, when they took off the cloak. Ginny had to give the password several times in an increasingly loud voice, before the portrait swung forward to admit them. The Fat Lady was not amused. "Fourth time tonight," she grumbled. "It's a wonder anyone gets any sleep around here."

*

Time began to pass in great spurts, and before Harry knew it, Halloween was upon them. The Quidditch team had been practising well as they trained the new reserves and prepared for their first match against Slytherin in November. Colin Creevey had managed to bring back some useful information about the opposition's strategies, and Ron was taking full advantage, teaching his own team effective counter-measures. Harry had to admit that Ron had made a good decision in choosing Pinnett as the reserve Keeper over Ginny. He would make a competent replacement for Ron next year as a regular player.

Another thing had occurred, which was a bit of a relief for Harry. A day or two after he'd received the owl from Sirius, Ron had got a note from his mother, which informed him and Ginny of their brothers' involvement in Europe. It was understandably short on details, but it assured everyone that Bill and Charlie were unhurt. There was also a bit of motherly advice in the letter: "Make sure you're treating Hermione the way you'd want your sister to be treated."

"She really knows how to ruin my fun, doesn't she?" Ron had commented to Harry.

Homework was also piling up, even for the sixth years, and although Harry tried to find time to spend alone with Ginny, it was becoming more and more difficult. They'd gone back to the storage room on the fourth floor a few times to talk and kiss, but to Harry it was never enough. He was becoming more and more comfortable with her as he got to know her better. There was something relaxing about her presence, and it was almost surprising how easy things had become between them after their awkward beginnings. The day after Halloween was the first Hogsmeade weekend of term, and Harry was looking forward to spending the day with her. For once, he wouldn't feel like a third wheel as he tagged after Ron and Hermione.

The Halloween feast itself was merry, as everyone anticipated the following day. It also passed surprisingly enough, without incident. It had never struck Harry until now, but he realised that in past years something always happened on Halloween, be it an invasion of trolls, some sort of attack, or someone getting Petrified… But this year nothing. It was a relief, really.

Harry and Ginny went hand in hand down the road to the village along with the other students on Saturday. He was surprised to see a number of teachers accompanying them to the village but decided it must be for extra security. There may have been extra wards in place over Hogsmeade, but it looked as if the Hogwarts staff wasn't taking any chances.

The crowd of students began to disperse throughout the village. Harry turned to Ginny and asked, "Where do you want to go first?" Ron and Hermione were already headed off towards Honeyduke's.

"Let's go to Zonko's and see what the twins are up to," she said.

When they arrived at the shop, it was already packed with students. The blonde woman Harry had noticed on September first was telling a group of third years off for pulling apart a display of Filibuster's Fireworks. One girl looked as if she was on the verge of tears. As the blonde stalked off, George said something to her in passing that made her smile. Harry was sure he saw a significant look pass between them.

Fred spotted Harry and Ginny just then. "Look who it is, George," he called. "Ickle Ginny!" He positively leered at their joined hands, and Harry wondered if coming in here was such a good idea after all.

"Shut it, Fred," Ginny replied.

"So Harry," Fred went on, ignoring his sister's narrowed eyes, "I'd ask you how you've been making out, but I don't suppose I really have to, do I?"

Harry was saved from replying by the blonde. "Is there a problem here?"

"Not at all," Fred replied in a more respectful tone than Harry had ever heard him use with anyone besides his mother. If Harry hadn't known better, he'd have said that Fred was actually frightened of her.

"Actually, there is," Ginny contradicted. "I'm looking for something."

The blonde turned her attention to Ginny. "What can I help you with?"

"Can you recommend anything good to use on annoying older brothers?"

"Why, yes, I believe so." She was smiling broadly now. "No, wait. I think those are all in the back. Fred, would you be a dear, and unpack that new shipment of books? We've got some new ones in, just full of ideas."

Fred marched off, sulking a bit at having his teasing session cut short. Harry was certain he heard Fred mutter, "Slave driver" under his breath.

The blonde was talking to Ginny again. "I take it you're Fred and George's sister?"

"Yeah, I am. How could you tell?"

"The hair does give you away, you know." She put out a hand. "I'm Pauline. You must be Ginny. I've heard a lot about you."

Ginny rolled her eyes as she shook Pauline's hand. "I'm sure I don't want to know."

"I know older brothers can be annoying, but yours aren't bad sorts. Not really. Actually, they haven't said one bad thing about any of your family." She turned to Harry then. "You must be Harry Potter. Pleasure." Harry shook her hand. "I must get back to work now. Dad turned the shop over to me, and I have to keep things running. You need any help, just ask."

They spent some time in Zonko's. Ginny was particularly fascinated by a book entitled One Hundred Pranks for Annoying Siblings by Tauntalus Petitfrere. As they were leaving, Harry noticed that Pauline and George seemed quite friendly. He nudged Ginny. "Do you think they're an item?"

"Looks that way, doesn't it?" she said speculatively. Then she smiled. "I'll have to be sure and tell Mum. Then she'll be after Fred to find himself a nice girl."

They went back into the street, where they spotted Ron and Hermione heading in their direction. "What do you say we all go to the Three Broomsticks?" Harry proposed.

"All right," Ginny agreed.

Harry raised his hand to wave Ron and Hermione over, but several things happened at once. Ron raised a hand to wave back, but Harry saw his expression changed almost immediately. A shout came from somewhere, along with the sound of running feet. Harry turned just in time to see a figure running towards him and Ginny. A wand was drawn, a spell muttered before Harry had time to react. Time seemed to slow as Harry watched a jet of light erupt from the end of the assailant's wand and shoot towards them. Harry's instincts kicked in as he threw himself in the path of the spell. He had no idea who the intended target was. A silvery light hit him with more force than he'd expected, propelling him backwards. In the instant before he hit the ground, he thought someone had tackled the assailant.

He lay there for a moment, fighting to remain conscious. He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him. Above him he could see blue sky, a space that was soon filled with concerned faces: Ron, Hermione, Ginny…

"Are you all right?" Ginny asked. He nodded.

"Stand back, out of the way. Give him some air." A new voice intruded, and the faces above Harry moved out of his field of vision to be replaced by that of Mundungus Fletcher. Fletcher knelt down beside Harry. "Can you sit up?"

"I think so. What happened?"

"Some nutter. Krum went after him."

As if on cue a new voice spoke up. "I couldn't get him. He got away." Viktor Krum's English seemed to have improved a great deal since Harry's fourth year. He was even able to pronounce Hermione's name now.

As Fletcher helped Harry into a sitting position, he heard a gasp. Looking up, he saw Ginny staring wide-eyed at his chest. Following the direction of her gaze, he saw that a great rent had been torn down the front of his robes. It had most likely been the impact of the spell. But what was most worrisome to Ginny was likely the fact that the necklace she'd given him was now in plain sight.

"Do you think you can stand?"

Harry nodded. If Mundungus Fletcher thought there was anything odd about Harry wearing what looked like a piece of girl's jewellery, he made no comment. As Harry rose slowly to his feet, he saw that there was quite a large crowd of students around him. Reflexively, he clenched a fist around the necklace, realising as he did so, he was merely calling attention to it. He tucked it inside his robes. He wondered if he hadn't been dazed by the force of the spell and had lain in the street longer than he'd thought. It was the only explanation for how everyone had gathered so quickly. At least he hadn't blacked out this time.

He looked at the stunned faces of the students. Malfoy was standing near the front, and Harry saw him begin to smirk, as he stared at Harry's chest. He had to have noticed the gem. Fred and George had come out of Zonko's along with Pauline. Fred seemed to be the only person in the entire crowd who wasn't gaping at Harry. It looked as if his attention was focused on a short seventh year Ravenclaw who was standing nearby. Harry couldn't remember her name.

Harry finally turned and faced Ginny. She was ashen. He felt as if he ought to apologise for revealing her secret, but it really wasn't his fault. He'd acted on instinct.

Viktor Krum, looked to be consulting with the other teachers who had come up, while Mundungus Fletcher addressed Harry once more. "You're going to have to report to the Headmaster. Let's go." Harry wasn't surprised.

"What about…" He indicated Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

"You were the one who was attacked. If the Headmaster wants to speak to any of them, he'll summon them himself."

But Harry wasn't positive that this was entirely true. He'd thrown himself in front of the spell, but he really hadn't been able to tell whom it had been aimed at. The natural assumption was that he'd been targeted, but Fletcher hadn't seen things from the same angle as he had.

He started back towards the school with Fletcher. As he passed next to Malfoy, he heard, "Nice necklace, Potter. Do you have matching ear rings, as well?"

Harry couldn't resist replying. "And you'd be the expert, wouldn't you?"

"That will do," said Fletcher, giving both boys a quelling look. "This is a serious matter."

Harry shut his mouth before he got a detention or lost any points for Gryffindor. Behind him, he could hear the other teachers assembling the rest of the students. It looked very much as if the rest of the Hogsmeade visit was about to be cancelled.

Professor Dumbledore may well have suspected something was happening, for he met Harry and Fletcher at the stone gargoyle. "I'll take Harry up to my office," he said to Fletcher. "You go back down to the village in case you're needed there."

Harry followed Dumbledore up the spiral staircase and through the door. The headmaster regarded him gravely, no doubt taking in his torn robes. Finally he said, "Would you like to tell me what happened in Hogsmeade?"

And so Harry told the headmaster what he could, which wasn't a whole lot, as the entire incident had happened so quickly. After he had finished, Dumbledore took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes for a moment. "I see. This sounds very similar to what happened to you in Diagon Alley last summer. What do you suppose turned back those spells? I have a suspicion you must know."

Harry reluctantly reached into his robes and pulled out the necklace. There was really no point in hiding it anymore. Most Hogwarts students above second year had seen it by now. Dumbledore looked at it sharply.

"Where did you get that?" he asked. He sounded displeased about something.

"It was a birthday present."

"Who gave it to you?"

"Ginny."

"And do you know where she got it?"

"She told me she made it."

Dumbledore looked surprised by this statement. He reached out as if to take the gem in his hands but realised the chain was too short. "Could you take that off for a moment?"

Harry really didn't want to do this. He had no idea if, by taking it off, he would break the magic in it. He remembered back to his birthday and, well, the ritual Ginny had gone through. Whatever went into the magic behind the talisman, it was certainly complicated. "I'm not sure I ought to. Won't I do something to the magic in it?"

"Just what has Miss Weasley told you about the magic in this?"

Harry thought for a moment. "Not very much really. Only that she had made it and not to tell anyone about it."

"But she's told you what it does."

"She said it was a talisman. There seemed to be some sort of complicated spells involved in creating it, but I didn't ask her about them, and she didn't tell me."

"What did she tell you then?"

Harry thought back to the conversation he and Ginny had had in Mr Weasley's shed on his birthday. "Only that she'd heard about talismans because she'd researched them in Defence Against the Dark Arts. And that she looked up a bit more and decided to try it. She never expected it to work."

"I see. Could you stand up for a moment?"

Harry did so, and Dumbledore came around to stand in front of Harry where he could examine the gem without Harry having to remove it. At length he said, "Since you've been wearing this talisman, what effects have you noticed?"

"Well, it's turned back spells twice now."

"Do you know which spells they were?"

"I didn't hear the incantation during the attack today. It all happened too quickly. The time in Diagon Alley, it was Cruciatus." His voice had dropped to a whisper on this last word.

Instead of replying, Dumbledore dropped the gem and turned towards the fireplace. He reached for a jar on the mantelpiece--Floo powder, Harry realised--and threw a pinch of the substance into the flames. "Argus Filch!" he called. Filch? Was Harry going to get a detention? He wasn't even sure what he'd done.

The surly caretaker's head appeared in the grate. "Yes?"

"Have the students begun returning from Hogsmeade yet?"

"Yes, they're beginning to come in now."

"I need to speak to Ginny Weasley immediately. Would you make sure she's sent up to my office as soon as possible?"

Harry's heart plummeted. Not only did it seem as if he was in trouble, but he'd managed to land Ginny in the middle of it too. He gave himself a mental kick for telling her secrets. He had a feeling she wasn't going to be pleased.

Dumbledore turned back to Harry. "While we're waiting for Miss Weasley, I think I ought to explain a few things about protective talismans. First of all, they're extremely rare, working ones are, at any rate. The reason for this is, it takes a special magical talent to create the crystal, or gem, which carries the protective magic. While it's possible to research the methods involved, you need to have the talent in you for it to work properly. There hasn't been a witch or wizard proven to have the talent for over a century."

He paused, and Harry let his words sink in. Now he understood why Ginny hadn't expected the necklace to work. She'd said something very similar to this, as well. "But someone could have the talent and not know it, couldn't they?"

"They could, Harry. It's possible to have the talent and not make use of it, of course. So perhaps it's not as rare a thing as all that, but that's not what concerns me most here. Two things concern me, actually. One is, that Voldemort must surely have deduced by now that you are in possession of a working talisman. He will have certainly worked that out from the events in Diagon Alley last summer, and if not from that, from today's events. He will be most interested in learning who made this talisman for you. He must not be allowed to find out.

"Now the second concern is more pressing. You see, that talisman will protect you from more than just harmful spells. It will also protect you from things of a more insidious nature. Can you please remind me when it was your scar stopped bothering you?" Dumbledore's tone had taken on an edge Harry couldn't remember hearing before now. He sounded… impatient.

"It was around my birthday…" Harry trailed off, as his brain jumped to the conclusion Dumbledore had already reached. "You're saying that this necklace has affected my headaches?"

"Exactly, Harry, and it's imperative that we find out the truth." Harry's heart began to pound as he remembered Dumbledore's decision to leave his European operatives in place, in part based on the information that Harry's scar hadn't been acting up. He felt ill.

"Might I ask you why you didn't tell me about this sooner?"

Harry swallowed. He felt very small and stupid for not making the connection before now. "Well, Ginny asked me not to tell, and she didn't think it would work, anyway."

"But when we last spoke, you knew it worked, and yet you didn't say anything." Dumbledore was not raising his voice, but somehow that made everything worse. Harry could tell he wasn't pleased.

"But I didn't know it would stop my scar from hurting," Harry pleaded. "I didn't know what it was supposed to do. This was Ginny's research project, not mine. I dunno, I just didn't think to ask."

Dumbledore sighed. He suddenly looked older and more care-worn than ever. "What's done is done," he said, and it sounded as if he was reminding himself of that fact. "But I'm going to have to ask you to remove the necklace for a few days to be sure that Voldemort is actually in Europe…"

A knock on the door interrupted the headmaster. At a word from Dumbledore, the door opened to admit a confused-looking Ginny to the room. "Ah, Miss Weasley. I'd like to have a word with you."

"What have I done?" she asked.

"That remains to be seen. Before Harry leaves us to our talk, I need to ask you if it will affect the magic in his talisman in any way if he takes it off for a few days."

Ginny looked from Harry to Dumbledore. "No, it should be all right."

The headmaster looked expectantly at Harry, who reached up slowly and began to undo the clasp. "Just try taking it off for a week or so, Harry, and if there's any sort of warning from your scar you are to report it to me immediately. Do you understand?" His voice was a good deal harder than Harry was used to hearing. He hoped that Ginny wouldn't be in too much trouble.

He nodded and pocketed the necklace.

"Fine, then. After a week I'll leave it up to you if you wish to put it back on. That will be all."

Harry left the headmaster's office, half expecting his scar to begin burning at any moment, but nothing happened. Not even the slightest twinge. He paused at the bottom of the spiral staircase. He wasn't ready to return to Gryffindor Tower just yet. He didn't want to face Ron and Hermione's inevitable questions. He ducked into a nearby classroom to wait for Ginny while he mulled a few things over.

It wasn't long before Harry became restless and began to pace, fingering the necklace in his pocket as he did so. He had a feeling he'd be in here for a while. It seemed to him that Dumbledore would have quite a lot to discuss with Ginny. Harry's stomach churned as he continued to circle like a caged animal. For some reason he was reminded of the animals he'd seen at the zoo on Dudley's eleventh birthday.

Dumbledore's words about the necklace preventing his scar from burning kept echoing through Harry's mind. It was a bit of a relief that his scar hadn't begun hurting the moment he'd removed the necklace, although he was dreading that it might begin doing so at any moment. He told himself that perhaps he hadn't missed any important warnings after all. It had to be true, he hoped it was true. If anything happened to Sirius, Remus, or Ginny's brothers, it would be his fault. He tried to push that terrible thought aside, but it kept popping up again unbidden. It seemed to grow and take on a life of its own. Why hadn't he connected his lack of headaches with the talisman? Why? Why hadn't he said anything to Dumbledore sooner? Dumbledore had asked, and he, Harry, hadn't said anything. Something terrible would happen to someone he cared about and it would be all his fault. Firenze's words came back to him then: "Guard what is most precious". What was more precious than people who were the closest thing he had to a family? He kicked at a desk in frustration. He had to stop thinking that way. It wasn't productive.

But the train of thought he found to replace it wasn't much better. Casting about vainly for something else on which to blame his predicament, he hit upon Ginny asking to keep this all a secret. If it hadn't been for that, he'd have willingly told Dumbledore right away. He tried to ignore for the moment the voice in his head which insisted on reminding him that he'd chosen to comply with Ginny's wishes. Why had she wanted him to be so secretive? She'd implied that it was to avoid teasing from her brothers. But she hadn't said, "Don't let my brothers find out." She'd said not to tell anyone. And he'd listened. She had to have a better reason than that, one that she hadn't told him. He took out the talisman and looked at it. What would it have mattered if he'd told Dumbledore? He thought of what Dumbledore had said about the talent to make protective talismans being rare. She had to have known about that. So why hadn't she just been truthful with him?

A noise in the corridor interrupted Harry's thoughts. It was the sound of the stone gargoyle leaping aside. Dumbledore must have finished talking to Ginny. He didn't stop to consider what sort of questions the headmaster may have been asking her. His own questions were first and foremost in his mind, and he was going to ask them now. He moved to the door of the classroom.

"Ginny!"

She turned. "Harry, you waited for me."

He thought she looked upset, but he couldn't let himself concentrate on that for now. "Yeah, we need to talk. I need you to tell me a few things. Like why I wasn't supposed to tell anyone about this necklace."

She sighed and entered the classroom. "Harry, we've been through all that."

He raised his eyebrows. "Have we?"

"Of course we have." She sounded irritated, but he pressed on.

"I'd like to hear it again."

"I didn't want my brothers to know. I told you that."

"That's not what you said, though, is it? You told me not to tell anyone, and I took you at your word. I want to know why." The last word echoed strangely through the empty classroom, and Harry realised he'd been speaking more loudly than necessary.

"I didn't want anyone to know, all right?" Ginny grated. "It wasn't supposed to work, you know. I didn't expect it to. Do you think I wanted everyone knowing I'd made you a protective talisman?"

"What would it matter if they did know? Especially now? It's not as if we've been sneaking around."

"At the time we weren't together. What do you think people would have made of that then? People like Malfoy? 'Oh, look! There's silly little Ginny!' " Her voice had taken on a derisive tone. " 'Still not over her crush on Harry Potter. Thinks she can get his attention by making him jewellery. Isn't she pathetic?' " She looked away, swiping angrily at her eyes.

Harry felt worse than ever. He hadn't wanted to make her cry. "Ginny," he tried again more gently. "Is that the reason you did this?"

"NO!" she fairly shouted. "I told you why I did this!" Her eyes were flashing a warning at him that he was on very shaky ground. "Why all the questions?" she went on. "Haven't I had to answer enough from Dumbledore already?"

"I have to know what's going on, Ginny. Did you know that this would affect the pain I feel in my scar? I didn't. Not until Dumbledore told me." He held up the gem that had been in his hand since Ginny came out of Dumbledore's office.

"If you didn't know what it did, why didn't you just ask? You're a year ahead of me. I thought you'd have studied this in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"I haven't. We've had a different Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher every year. You know that." Ginny merely looked at him, and he knew that excuse sounded as lame to her as it did to him. It was becoming more and more difficult to shift the blame for any of this onto her, but he stubbornly continued. "Tell me, Ginny. Did you know it would affect my scar?"

"Of course not! It wasn't supposed to work." She enunciated this carefully, as if he were dull-witted.

He did want to yell at her now, but he refrained. "Ginny, you knew it worked. You've known ever since that day in Diagon Alley." He waited for her to acknowledge the truth of this statement, but she stared stone-faced at him, her lips pressed into a fine line. "Why won't you just admit it works, Ginny?" Still no reply. "Did Dumbledore tell you what it meant? Did he tell you the ability to make these things is rare?"

"YES!" she finally shouted. "Yes, he told me. He didn't have to, though. I already knew."

"So why can't you just admit to it and have done?"

"I don't want it! I never asked for it!"

"Then why did you even try?"

"I couldn't help myself, Harry. There was something in me driving me to do it. I thought I could just make the bloody thing, it wouldn't work, and I could get on with things." She was beginning to sound distressed. "But it does work. There, I've said it. Are you happy? And that just complicates everything."

Harry was sure Dumbledore had warned her of the danger she now faced from Voldemort, should he find out who had made the talisman. Not that he thought she was afraid to face it, but this was still something she hadn't asked for.

"I didn't want any of this," she repeated in a very small voice.

Harry knew how she felt. He hadn't wanted a great many of the things life had dealt him, either. Suddenly all his frustration with her drained away. He reached out to her, touched her shoulder, and she came willingly into his arms. "I'm sorry," he whispered into her hair, and he meant it. He was sorry he'd shouted at her, and he was sorry for how she was feeling.

"Ginny," he said after a few moments. "I'm going to have to leave the necklace off for a while."

She drew back and looked at him. "I know. I was there, remember?"

"It's preventing me from feeling pain in my scar, and right now it's important for Dumbledore to know where Voldemort is. He needs all the help he can get."

"I suppose it's not a very good thing then. The talisman I mean."

"I'd rather not have the headaches, actually. But, well, this is important."

"Were you in a lot of trouble?"

"With Dumbledore?" She nodded. "It's not easy to tell with him, but, yes, he wasn't very happy about things." He hesitated. "I'm not sure how much I'm allowed to tell you, but Dumbledore is trying to find out where Voldemort is, and he can use pain I get in my scar to get an idea how far away he is. I told him I wasn't feeling any pain last month, so Dumbledore thought that meant Voldemort must be far away. But I didn't know the necklace was affecting things. We might have missed something important."

She shuddered visibly. "I'm sorry. I had no idea. I should have never made the stupid thing."

He pulled her close once more. "It's my fault. Really. I had a chance to tell Dumbledore about it last month, and I didn't. But I had no idea it could be blocking the pain. It was stupid of me not to have worked that out."

He felt her tighten her grip on his waist. "Can we just stay here?"

"Why?"

"Because when we go back to Gryffindor Tower, everyone is going to ask a lot of questions, and I'm not in much of a mood for them right now."

"We're going to get hungry at some point, although I suppose one of the House Elves will come in here, and we can ask for food." She laughed a little at that, and Harry felt a bit better to hear her. He hadn't liked rowing with her very much. "We're going to have to tell Ron and Hermione, but we can put them off for now, if we promise a full explanation later on. The others can get stuffed."

*

"I can't believe it!" Ron grumbled. He had just finished supper and was walking back to Gryffindor Tower with Harry, Hermione and Ginny.

"What did you expect, Ron, after what happened today?" asked Hermione.

"I didn't expect he'd cancel Quidditch, too!" Dumbledore had made the announcement before the meal. Due to the attack in Hogsmeade, visits to the village had been cancelled for the rest of the year. That was hardly surprising, but no one had expected Quidditch matches to be cancelled as well.

"Of course he did," replied Hermione. "There's not enough staff to supervise practise. The teachers have enough to do as it is, and Madame Hooch doesn't have that sort of time."

"But it's not fair! We were all set to trounce Slytherin! I couldn't wait to see the look on Malfoy's face when we countered all his strategies."

Hermione put a hand on his shoulder as they walked. "You'll always have memories of last year. No one can take that away from you."

Harry was walking with Ginny behind Ron and Hermione, so he couldn't see the look on Ron's face. It was easy for him to imagine, though. He'd seen that particular expression of satisfaction spread over Ron's features many times as he remembered his first ever victory as Gryffindor Quidditch captain. The match had been very close, and perhaps that had made the taste of victory all the sweeter.

"Besides," Hermione went on, "we have more important things to discuss." Harry and Ginny had promised a full explanation of the day's events after supper, and now they were to the point.

"Shouldn't we go somewhere private for all this?" asked Harry. "I don't think the entire common room needs to hear this." He thought Ginny breathed a sigh of relief beside him.

Ron turned and looked a bit sharply at Harry. "Did you have anyplace in particular in mind?" he asked suspiciously.

"Yeah, actually, I did."

Harry turned aside on the fourth floor, showing them to the storage room. Once they were inside and had shut the door, Ron lit his wand and got a good look around. "When did you find this place?" he asked. "And why didn't you ever tell me about it?"

"Last year, and there was no real reason to, was there?"

"Seems like you might have said something. I mean this is an ideal place to…" He trailed off as realisation set in and he looked from Harry to Ginny. He began to frown slightly.

"Well, why don't we all make ourselves comfortable," Hermione put in before Ron could say anything else.

They sat, and Harry began to tell them about the necklace and how it had turned back a curse that day in Diagon Alley and again in Hogsmeade. Then he told them about Dumbledore and the European operatives. As he spoke, he took the necklace out of his pocket and showed it to them. Hermione was extremely curious about it.

"You made this, Ginny?" she asked.

Ginny hadn't uttered a word the entire time, and now she merely nodded.

"But that means…" Hermione said. "I mean, no one has had the ability to do this for years. Centuries even."

"Yes, I know. Dumbledore told me all about it already."

"But where did you even learn how to do this? This is very old magic. I've seen it referred to, but never found out how it's actually accomplished."

Ginny sighed. Harry knew she didn't want to have to own up to having this talent for some reason. He'd worked that much out. He just hadn't worked out why yet.

"Last year, I did a special research project on protective talismans in Defence Against the Dark Arts. For some reason I was still curious about them once I had all the information I needed for my essay, so I dug a bit further. I was able to get permission to use the restricted section for this project in any case, so I used the permission slip to look and see if I could find anything on how to go about actually making a talisman."

"But there isn't anything, is there?" asked Hermione.

"Yes, there is," replied Ginny. "But the book wasn't in English. It was in some sort of ancient script. I was able to read enough of it to work out the subject matter. After that it was a matter of translation. It took a long time, but I eventually got the directions deciphered."

Hermione merely stared. She'd dropped Ancient Runes at the end of third year when she went back to having a normal time table. She'd kept her dictionaries, however, and had lent them to Ginny on occasion. Now she looked as if she wished she were still taking the class. "But even if you worked out how to do it…"

"Yes, I know, anyone can try, but not everyone will succeed. But something drove me to it. I made it last summer before Harry's birthday. I don't ever want to go through that again." She sounded very bleak.

"That explains it," said Ron. "That's what you were doing out in Dad's shed all that time. Is that why you were so tired?"

"Yes. You don't know what it took out of me. I was exhausted by the end. I can't begin to tell you how much power it took."

Harry didn't know what to say. Thank you hardly covered it. He remembered how tired she'd looked. Now that several months had passed and she had a good reserve of spark and energy about her, he realised just how dull and lifeless she'd been that first day when she'd come to the Dursleys'. The change had been so gradual he hadn't really noticed it, but now that he thought back and compared his memories of last summer with now, the difference was astonishing. He took her hand and squeezed it, but it seemed like so little in comparison to what she'd gone through for him. He wondered again what had motivated her. The reasons she'd given him last summer didn't seem to cover it anymore.

If Hermione was thinking along the same lines, she did not comment. Instead she said, "You were right to try to keep this a secret."

Ron looked shocked. "Did I just hear you right? You think Ginny should have kept this from Dumbledore?"

"No, not from Dumbledore. But she should have kept it generally secret for as long as possible." Ron looked rather blank. "Come on, Ron, think about it. This is a rare thing. Ginny has the ability to make a working protective talisman. There hasn't been a proper jewel-wright in over a century. We're at war. Don't you think there's going to be a demand for this sort of thing?"

Harry's heart sank. Now he understood Ginny's earlier refusal to admit to her ability. He hadn't even stopped to consider the broader implications of all this, but Ginny obviously had. Or at least she knew in her heart what this could lead to. Her words echoed through his head: "I don't want to go through that ever again". It looked to him as if she might not have a choice in the matter if this became known. And now it most definitely could. If Voldemort could work out that Harry possessed a working talisman, others could as well. At least no one beyond Dumbledore and those present in this room knew who had made it. That must not ever become known.

"So what's to be done about all this then?" asked Ron.

"There's nothing we can do but keep this to ourselves," said Harry. "Dumbledore isn't going to tell anyone, and neither will we. We can all agree on that, can't we?"

Ron and Hermione both nodded. Harry didn't have to look at Ginny for her consent. He knew she was desperate to keep this under wraps. "Then we make a pact," Harry said. "If anyone asks what this necklace is, none of you know anything about it. And if anyone asks me, I'll deal with it."

There was little else for them to discuss, and they rose to go back to Gryffindor Tower. Much later that evening, as everyone was preparing to go to bed, Harry called Hermione aside. "Did you notice earlier when Ginny was talking about…" he trailed off, but he was sure Hermione had caught his meaning. "Well, did you notice the way she said she was driven to it?" Hermione nodded. "Ginny has said that to me before. Would you have any idea what that's all about?"

Hermione thought a moment. "Have you asked Ginny about it?"

"Yes and no. I mean I've asked her why she did it."

"And what did she say?"

Although they were already speaking quietly, Harry lowered his voice even further. "She said something about her debt to me. Because I saved her life second year."

"Well, that's probably it, Harry. Don't you remember how Professor Snape was driven to protect you from Quirrell back in first year? Wasn't that because of a life-debt he had to your father?"

"Yes, I suppose so."

"So if the power of a life-debt is strong enough to last beyond the grave, isn't it enough to make Ginny attempt the impossible? And once she'd begun to continue even though she was exhausting herself?"

Harry had to admit that this likely explained it.

"Hey, Potter, what are you doing in the corner with my girlfriend?" Ron's voice came over to them from the boys' stairs, and Harry and Hermione both laughed. "Don't make me come over there and hex you, now."

"I'd like to see you try, Weasley," replied Harry. "Wizard's duel at dawn? My seconds will be in touch with yours."

And with that they all went up to bed.

Almost before Harry knew it, term was coming to an end, and everyone was getting ready for Christmas. The Great Hall was decorated with the usual twelve Christmas trees, and perhaps in an attempt to make things more festive, the suits of armour had been enchanted to sing Christmas carols as they had been during Harry's fourth year. They hadn't learned the words any better in the interim, apparently, and Peeves was once again in his element as he supplied the missing verses.

But in spite of the attempts to liven things up, the mood in the castle was quite sombre. Most students had signed the list to go home for the holiday--travel was being arranged by Port Key--and there was a definite feeling, unspoken but present all the same, that this could be the last Christmas that some families spent together.

Harry was, of course, staying at Hogwarts as he did every year. Ron, Hermione and Ginny were staying on as well. In the Weasleys' case, there had been an owl from their mother informing them that there would be no special celebration at the Burrow this year. Bill and Charlie were apparently unable to get away from their duties on the continent. Harry wasn't sure, but he wondered if Mrs Weasley somehow thought they'd all be safer at Hogwarts. At any rate, he was grateful for the company.

Harry left Herbology, his last class on the last Friday of term, in a pensive mood. Normally there would have been a Hogsmeade weekend the following day, and it would have been nice to get out of the castle and do some Christmas shopping. He was rather short on ideas for what to get Ginny, and Ron hadn't proven very helpful with his suggestions. Harry didn't think Ginny would appreciate anything from Zonko's, and sweets from Honeydukes seemed too obvious. In any case there was no chance of even getting into Hogsmeade to visit the shops. Harry hadn't ever heard anything further about whoever had attacked him the day after Halloween, but Hogsmeade visits were still cancelled.

He entered the Entrance Hall with Ron and Hermione to find it packed with students. There were some staff on hand, as well. They soon found out what was happening. Making their way through the crowd, Ron craned his neck and said, "It's Fred and George."

Hermione stood on her toes in a vain attempt to see over the other students. "What are they doing here?"

"Dunno. Looks like some sort of demonstration."

Harry could see very little until they'd pushed their way nearer the front. Now he could see that the twins had set up some sort of table and were showing a variety of Zonko's products to the assembled students. At one end of the table was a pile of parchment sheets that looked a lot like order forms to Harry.

"Perhaps you'll like this, then." Fred was talking animatedly to a seventh year Ravenclaw, while he held up what looked like one of the fake wands the twins had invented. "If you hold it and give it a shake, it repeats the name of your worst enemy."

"What good would that do me?" asked the girl.

"Could be informative. Give it to someone who doesn't like you and trick them into shaking it. You can find out who really doesn't like you, then, and that's aside from the annoyance factor of them having to listen to the name of their enemy over, and over, and over…

"I get the idea." The girl looked as if she was ready to walk away.

"Wait, I know just the thing…" Fred's eyes seemed to flash at her as he leaned closer and lowered his voice. He reached under the table and pulled out a pair of enormous, vividly red lips. He gave them a bit of a push with his hand, and they flew up into the air and kissed the girl's cheek with a very loud smacking noise. She blushed and began to smile slyly.

"I don't know…"

Fred leaned even closer to her, a knowing grin broadening over his face. "You won't find better than this. Invented that myself, I did."

"As I remember, he had some help." George had come up to Harry, Ron and Hermione. He was watching his twin brother and the girl.

"What's all this, then?" asked Ron.

"When Mohammed won't come to the mountain, you have to move the mountain to Mohammed." Ron looked blankly at his brother. "It's good business. No Hogsmeade for the students so we're giving them a chance to do their Christmas shopping."

"Yes, but everyone's off home tomorrow," Hermione pointed out.

"We're only taking orders today. All orders to be filled by owl post, with delivery by Christmas guaranteed," George said, indicating the order forms. "Gift wrapping included. So…" He leaned closer to Hermione and lowered his voice, much as Fred had done. "Can I interest you in a deluxe selection of our finest Dungbombs? A bargain at only one Galleon, five Sickles."

"Erm, I don't think so," said Hermione.

"Come on. Ronnikins will love it. Unless you had something else in mind…" George's tone had become decidedly suggestive.

But Dungbombs reminded Harry of something else. "Erm, George," he said. "I hate to interrupt, but I'd like a word with you."

"What is it, young Harry? Need advice on what to get our sister for the holidays? Because I have just the thing…"

"No, actually, it's about my socks."

George looked lost for a moment, but then realisation dawned. "Oi, Fred!" he called.

Fred looked up. He was still taking the Ravenclaw's order. Harry suspected that Fred had been chatting her up.

"Fred, come over here for a minute. You ought to hear this."

"What is it? Can't you see I'm in the middle of a sale?" He did not sound pleased with the interruption.

"This will only take a moment of your time, brother dear. Then you can go back to what you were doing." George's tone indicated that he was as suspicious as Harry as to Fred's true motivations. When Fred had joined them, George continued. "I believe you owe me five Galleons."

"What for?"

"I believe we had a wager, one which I have won."

Harry had no idea what any of this had to do with the disaster that had befallen him in Potions class. "You can work this business about a wager out later," he told the twins. "I just want to know what you did to my socks!"

"If you're even asking us about them," said George, "you must surely have an idea. I thought the particular fragrance would make it obvious…"

"All right," replied Harry. "But did you have to fix it so they'd go off in the middle of Potions class?"

Fred and George exchanged a look and burst out laughing.

"Potions class?" said Fred, once he'd got his laughter under control. "Too bad Snape wasn't there to see that…"

"Fletcher's much worse than Snape ever was."

Fred put a hand on Harry's shoulder. "I'm sorry if I got you into trouble. It's my fault. I told George you couldn't possibly dream of wearing those socks. That's why I chose them to hex. Didn't imagine you'd actually put them on. They're just so…"

"Colourful," supplied George. "Original. And being a man of taste, I bet Fred that you would wear them."

Fred cleared his throat, interrupting his twin. "George wanted to nick those socks. He has a shirt that matches them."

"And now you've all but admitted to wearing them," said George, ignoring Fred's comment. He held out his hand to his brother. "Cough up."

Fred sighed, and reached into his pocket. When he'd handed the coins over to George, he turned back to Harry. "Listen, let us make it up to you. Anything you want from Hogsmeade, we'll arrange to get it for you. Gift-wrapped and ready to give. Come on, what do you say?"

Harry hesitated. On one hand it might help him out with Ginny's present, that is, if he could think of anything to get for her. On the other, he definitely didn't trust the twins not to booby-trap the box. Before he could answer, Ginny had joined them.

"Sorry," she said a bit breathlessly. Harry felt her slip a hand into his. "Fletcher made me stay after class and do some extra cleaning." She pulled a face. "What's going on?"

"We're trying to make up for lost business this holiday season," said Fred. "Speaking of which..." He went back to the Ravenclaw girl, who was still waiting for him to complete her order.

"Listen," said George, "I'll need to get back to work soon, as well, but as long as you're all here, and you're staying on for the holidays, why don't you join us down in Hogsmeade on Christmas day?"

Hermione bit her lip. "I don't know if we'd be allowed. They cancelled Hogsmeade visits for good reason, you know."

"Well, it's not as if You Know Who's going to find out about it," put in Ron. "He might find out about the whole school going into Hogsmeade, because that takes organisation, but the four of us are a different matter."

"Yeah, and it's not like we don't have more than one way of getting there," added Harry with a wink to George.

"Well, think about it," George said. "If you want, I'll talk to Dumbledore about it."

Before anyone could reply to this, there was a loud slapping sound. They all turned to see Fred holding his cheek and the Ravenclaw girl stalking off. Fred was holding what looked like a blue dwarf dressed in white trousers and a white pointy hat.

"Argh!" said George. "I knew those Muggle cartoon characters were a bad idea."

*

Harry entered the boys' dormitory later that evening to find Ron already there. He was sprawled across his bed reading. This was quite surprising considering that the Christmas holiday officially began tomorrow.

Ron did not look up as Harry came over. He merely stated, "They're all mental, you know."

"Who are?"

"Girls."

"What have you done now?"

Ron threw his pillow at Harry. "I haven't done anything but misinterpret something Hermione said. And that's hardly surprising. Listen to this." He began to read a passage from the book:

Ron paused for breath as he slammed the book shut. "What did I tell you? Perfectly mental, the lot of them."

"So what did you say to Hermione?"

Ron mumbled something.

"What was that?"

"Well, she asked an unfair question! She asked me if I thought Ami was pretty."

"Who's Ami?"

"That Ravenclaw Fred was chatting up. She's in Hermione's Arithmancy class."

"And I suppose you didn't give the right answer."

"All I said was, 'I suppose so'! And then Hermione went all quiet, and she got this, this look she gets. Sort of like McGonagall, you know? So I asked her what was wrong, and she said, 'Nothing. I'm fine.' "

Harry wanted to laugh but restrained himself. "So you're looking up how to interpret what she means? Ron, it's obvious you answered her question wrong. She was expecting you to tell her Ami wasn't as pretty as she is."

"Yeah, I know. I just read that part. You seem to know a lot about it. Has Ginny tried that one on you already?"

"Erm, no." Thank goodness, he added to himself. Then something else struck him. "That's not what I think it is, is it?"

"Dr Zog? Yeah."

"I thought Neville still had it."

"I guess he was done with it. When I came up here, it was lying on your bed."

"Suppose put it there when he was packing up to go home," said Harry, but he wasn't sure he was convinced of this.

"Yeah, but it's weird, you know? I was thinking as I came up here there might be something in this book about what girls really mean when they say certain things, and I was going to ask Neville if I could borrow it. And there it was."

Harry wasn't sure he liked this. That book kept turning up. Harry remembered the introduction of the book, which claimed the text had been charmed to adapt itself to the reader. He wondered if there was more to it than that. This was getting a bit too much like Tom Riddle's diary for his liking. He couldn't see where this book kept its brain either.

But something didn't make sense. Why would Sirius send him a possessed book? Harry knew he wouldn't have done so knowingly. And the book certainly seemed to have a sense of humour, if Harry's suspicions were correct about the book wanting to be found.

"Ron," he asked, "do you think there's anything odd about the book itself?"

"Like what?"

"Well, it seems to have a mind of its own, doesn't it?"

Ron thought for a moment. "I suppose it does. Just now, I opened it up to just any page, and it turned out to be the right one. And last summer when I was looking for, well, something…" Ron's ears went pink. "And it did the same thing. I've just now remembered that."

"Now that you mention it, I don't remember ever seeing anything in there that explains what girls mean when they say certain things."

"You're right. Hey! Just how much of this have you read, anyway?"

"A good bit of it. Listen, think of anything, anything at all, and open it to any page."

Ron shut the book and thought. When he opened it again, Harry saw his eyes widen. "It worked. I dunno if I like this."

"I know."

"But Sirius wouldn't knowingly send you something evil."

"No, he wouldn't. Let me try something. Give me the book."

Harry took the book from Ron, closed it and concentrated on the author. When he opened the book again, he read, "About this Book" at the top of the page. "Dr Zog has been educating young wizards in the subtleties of relationships for several decades. He has decided to put this knowledge into one easy-to-use volume. It has been magically enhanced to determine the reader's most pressing questions so that the reader may readily find what most interests him. This book has also been magically endowed with the author's own sense of humour. The reader is warned to keep close watch on this volume, lest it stray."

He showed the page to Ron. "I guess we'll just have to believe it."

"Yeah, until it gets us into trouble, that is."

"I don't know. I think Sirius is probably having a good laugh over the thought of me with this book."

"Yeah, you're probably right, Harry."

*

Saturday afternoon found Harry in the common room building a castle with an Exploding Snap deck since he was at a loss for anything better to do. Apparently Ron and Hermione had made up their differences and had gone off somewhere. Or perhaps they were in the process of making up their differences. The other Gryffindors were gone; they'd left that morning by Port Key.

He carefully placed another card on the castle, which teetered dangerously, and wondered where Ginny had got to. She had disappeared after lunch without a word to anyone. What could she be doing the first day of holidays that would require her to disappear for the afternoon? It couldn't be homework, and he was sure she didn't have detention--not even Professor Fletcher was that mean. He'd see her at supper, he told himself, and he'd worm it out of her then. Or maybe not. He set another card on the pile and grinned in spite of the fact that his castle was now smoking ominously. Perhaps he'd wait until later. There were very few students left at Hogwarts, which meant some of the more popular trysting spots ought to be free. With any luck, they wouldn't even have to leave the common room.

Smoke was now pouring from his card castle, and Harry leapt out of the way just in time as the entire thing exploded, sending bits of singed card all over the table. He'd have to find something else to do now. His mind settled on Sirius' book. He told himself he wanted to experiment with its trustworthiness some more. His desire to look at it had nothing whatsoever to do with curiosity.

He went up to his dormitory only to see that that book was lying out in plain sight again. He knew he'd put it away in his trunk last night. "Cheeky thing," he muttered.

He opened it at random and was surprised to find a page full of locator spells. "Ha, ha," he said to the book. "Very funny. This isn't Hermione you know."

He opened to another page and saw more of the same. "Well, I don't think I'm missing anything, am I? If George came up and pinched my socks, he's welcome to them."

Still, something made him set the book down and look in the trunk. At first glance it was difficult to tell if anything was missing, as he never paid that much attention to the way he stored his things. Then he noticed his Sneakoscope was on top of this socks. He usually kept it cushioned at the bottom of everything to stop it from going off unexpectedly. It was silent at the moment.

Harry straightened up and thought. If someone had gone through his trunk, what had they been after? His first thought was the necklace. He opened the drawer of his night table, and there it was in the same spot he'd left it back in November. He was about to turn back to his trunk when Ron came in.

"Looking for something, Harry?"

"Dunno. You didn't happen to take anything from my trunk, did you?"

"No. Has someone been through your things?"

"Looks that way. I'm just trying to see what's missing." Harry began to go through his trunk once more. "Ron, my invisibility cloak isn't here."

"Who would have taken that?"

"Dunno." But then he suddenly did know. "Ron, do you know where Ginny's got to? I haven't seen her all afternoon."

"No idea. D'you think she's taken it?"

"Who else knows about it besides you and Hermione?"

"Dumbledore, Sirius, Remus Lupin, Snape…"

"Of them, only Dumbledore is here, and he's hardly going to make off with it, is he?"

"Colin!"

"Left this morning for the holiday."

"Well I haven't seen Ginny, but if she's taken the invisibility cloak there's not much chance I would, is there?"

Harry gave Ron a dark look. There was something about the situation he didn't like. "I'm going to see if I can spot her on the Marauders' Map." He rummaged in his trunk again. "Damn it, it looks as if she's taken the map, as well."

"How does she even know about that?"

Harry willed himself not to blush and looked Ron straight in the eye. "She's seen me use it."

"Well, perhaps she's said something to Hermione."

Harry left for the common room without further comment. Ron followed.

"There you are," Hermione said when they appeared. "It's almost time for supper. Shall we go?"

"Hermione, where's Ginny?" Harry asked.

"Isn't she back yet?"

"I haven't seen her since lunch, and she seems to have taken the invisibility cloak and the Marauders' Map. They're not in my trunk at any rate. And what do you mean, she's not back yet?"

Hermione bit her lip and went pink.

"Come on, Hermione, you know something," said Ron. "Where did she go?"

"I don't know right off. Only she told me she was going out this afternoon and to try and stall you if you asked any questions."

"You must have an idea where she went," Harry pointed out.

"Well it is the holiday. Best not to ask too many questions and spoil people's surprises."

"Are you saying she went Christmas shopping?"

"It would make sense."

"But that would mean she's gone to Hogsmeade. Shouldn't she have come back by now?"

"Not if she hasn't found what she's looking for. Or maybe she stopped by to say hello to the twins."

Harry knew Hermione's explanation was perfectly reasonable, but he still felt there was something funny going on. He wasn't going to feel any better until he saw Ginny again. "She saw them yesterday," he pointed out. "I'm going after her."

"Wait," said Ron, as Harry moved toward the portrait hole. "We'll come with you."

Without the Marauders' Map to guide them, Harry, Ron and Hermione had to be careful not to let anyone see them, as they headed for the statue of the humpbacked witch on the third floor. Luckily they met no one. Harry drew his wand, tapped the statue and muttered, "Dissendium." Soon all three of them found themselves in the underground passage, which led to Honeydukes. Ron and Hermione had never been through it before. They hurried, but the tunnel was long, and the air was stuffy. By the time they arrived in the Honeydukes' storeroom, they were all breathless and sweaty.

Now they had to be extremely cautious so as not to get caught. The last time Harry had used this way to get to Hogsmeade, the village had been bustling with students, and it had been easy for him to blend in with the others. But today the village was likely to be empty, as the shops would have just closed for the day. Harry realised with a jolt that Ginny definitely should have been back at the school by now or at the very least they should have crossed paths with her.

He turned back to Ron and Hermione, exchanging a look of understanding with them. Total silence was necessary. He motioned to them and they all tiptoed towards the front of the shop. It was indeed closed for the day, and luck was once more on Harry's side, as the owners seemed to be in their private apartments upstairs. The shop door was locked, but it opened easily to a whispered "alohomora".

The village of Hogsmeade was silent and dark. The sun had set over two hours ago, and the only lights came from above the shops where the owners resided and The Three Broomsticks. There was no sign of Ginny anywhere.

"Where is she, then?" Harry asked Hermione once they'd walked through the village and back. His tone was harsher than he'd meant it to be, but this was worrisome.

"You think she's still got the invisibility cloak on?" asked Ron.

"Why would she do that?" asked Harry. "She couldn't get much shopping done if she was invisible, could she?"

"Let's ask at Zonko's," said Hermione sensibly. "Maybe she's there, or maybe she at least popped in."

But she hadn't. When they asked, Fred told them he hadn't seen her since yesterday. "She's giving you the run-around already, is she?" he said, nudging Harry, who had no choice but to go along with the joke. He couldn't let the real reason he was worried on to the twins. They might ask him questions he didn't want to answer.

They went to The Three Broomsticks, since it was still open, and asked Madam Rosmerta. "No," she told them, "I haven't seen anybody from the school today. No students, I should say. A few of the teachers were in for a drink earlier."

"What are we going to do now?" asked Harry as they left the pub.

"We'll have to go back to school and tell Professor Dumbledore," said Hermione.

"Or she may be back by now," said Ron.

Hermione frowned. "I doubt it. We would have met up with her."

"What if she took a different path back to the castle?" asked Ron, but Hermione didn't look convinced.

They made their way back to Honeydukes and through the underground passage once more. At the bottom of the chute, which led back up to the statue of the witch, Harry noticed something in the pale light coming from his wand-tip that he'd missed earlier.

"Hold on a moment," he said, bending down. It was the invisibility cloak, and under that lay the Marauders' Map. "Look at this. She just left this here."

"I guess she didn't think she'd be needing them until she came back," said Ron.

"Which means she hasn't come back," concluded Hermione. Harry's insides twisted uncomfortably, and he knew it wasn't hunger pangs as a result of missing supper. He shown his wand on the map, which hadn't been erased, and this only confirmed his fear. Ginny wasn't in the castle anywhere.

"We have to go to Dumbledore," Hermione said again. Harry really didn't want to do that. He wanted to go back to Hogsmeade and knock on all the doors until he found Ginny, or at least had something to go on, but he resigned himself to the inevitable and began to climb the chute.

As Harry, Ron and Hermione emerged from the statue of the humpbacked witch, Harry looked at the map out of habit. It seemed that if they followed the most direct route to the second floor, they would encounter Mundungus Fletcher. Technically they were out of bounds, and although they had good reason to want to see the headmaster, Harry really didn't want to run into the Potions master. If anyone were going to be unreasonable and prevent them from reaching Dumbledore's office, it would be he.

Harry pointed this out to Ron and Hermione so that they took a more round-about route. But as they were passing along the western wall of the castle, they came to an outer corridor lined with windows. A distinct tapping could be heard, and they soon discovered the source of the noise: an owl was trying to get in. Hermione opened the window, and the owl immediately flew to Harry and held out its leg.

A feeling of foreboding overtook him as he took the parchment and read it:

Harry read it again, but it made no sense. What did the first sentence mean? He showed the letter to Ron and Hermione, but they weren't able to make any more of it than he was. Someone had Ginny--that much seemed clear--and whoever it was wanted him, Harry, to come after her alone. He was ready to do that, but where was she? How was he supposed to find her based on this letter?

Suddenly he knew, and he turned away without a word and sprinted back to Gryffindor Tower. "Boar's head!" he panted to the Fat Lady before scrambling through the portrait hole and running the rest of the way up to his dormitory. He had no choice now but to trust Sirius' book. It had wanted to show him a locator spell earlier, and now he understood why. It had to be a sign…

He opened the book at random, fighting off a rising sense of panic, and saw the same page as before. He read the first spell through carefully, concentrated, pointed his wand…

"Reperio!"

A vision of a rocky hill with the ruins of a tower on its top, bleak against a leaden sky, swum into view. Somehow he knew where this was, although he'd never seen this place before in his life. Ron and Hermione burst, breathless, into the dormitory even as the vision faded before Harry's eyes.

"She's in Wales," he told them.

A/N: First of all I have to credit Ami and Ali for coming up with the joke items the twins were selling. Also the passage Ron was reading from Dr Zog was inspired by The Secret Language of Girls by Josey Vogels. Josey Vogels writes a dating advice column in my local newspaper, and excerpts of her book were printed in it last week.

"She's in Wales."

"Wales?!" exclaimed Ron. At the same time Hermione asked, "How do you know that?"

"Reperio spell," replied Harry. "I saw this ruin of a castle on a hill, and somehow I knew it was in Wales."

"What are we waiting for, then?" said Ron. "Let's go after her."

Harry was already opening his trunk. "Wait a moment here," said Hermione. "We can't just go haring off like this. Harry, do you know where specifically in Wales this ruin is?"

Harry looked up at her reluctantly. "No."

"How were you planning on pinpointing it then? Fly all over the place on your brooms until you'd found it?"

Harry laid his winter cloak back in his trunk. How had she guessed? What Hermione was trying to say made perfect sense, but he didn't feel like listening to reason. He wanted to act. Now. He didn't want to stop and think things through. It looked as if Ron was feeling the same way. He was pacing restlessly about the dormitory.

"What the hell are we supposed to do then?" Harry asked, his voice louder than necessary. "It's not as if that letter came with a street map."

"No," Hermione said slowly, "no it didn't. But I think there's more to it than meets the eye. That first sentence was very odd. There's got to be a clue in there somewhere. Can I have it again?"

Harry pulled the parchment from the pocket into which he'd thrust it earlier before running up to the dormitory. " 'Oh ye of little faith,' " Harry read dully, " 'take care lest you fall into a trap. She whom you seek is not yet beyond your reach, but she will be if you do not act quickly. Come alone and tell no one.' Complete bollocks!" He tossed the parchment onto his bed.

Hermione frowned and shook her head. "I can't work it out. It's almost as if… But at least we have Wales to go on. Now, who do we know who lives in Wales?"

"Nobody," said Harry. Ron was shaking his head in the negative as well, as he continued pacing.

"We don't even know for certain why she's been taken," said Hermione.

Ron stopped short. "Well, I think that's clear enough!" His voice had gone hard, and his eyes were narrowed at Harry.

"What are you trying to imply by that?" Harry asked.

"Just that if you'd been able to keep your hands off her, maybe she wouldn't be such a target for Death Eaters."

An unbidden memory of stargazing on the roof invaded Harry's senses. He stared stonily at Ron. "Who says I've been putting my hands on her?"

"STOP IT! Both of you." Hermione has stepped between the boys. "Honestly, what are you two going to accomplish by fighting? Besides," she added with a quelling look at Ron, "we don't know she's been taken because she's Harry's girlfriend. If You Know Who wanted to go after someone close to Harry, why single out Ginny? Why not go after his godfather? Or one of us? No, I think Ginny may have been singled out for another reason."

"Because she made Harry that necklace?" asked Ron. Hermione nodded. "But how did You Know Who find that out? That's been kept dead secret."

"I don't know how it got out. I can't explain it." Hermione was obviously not very happy about having to admit this. "But it makes sense."

"Then why send Harry a letter telling him to come after her?" Ron went on. "If You Know Who wanted Ginny to make him a necklace like Harry's, why bother even letting Harry know he's got her?"

"The letter wasn't signed," Harry pointed out. "In any case, I'm fairly sure it's not Voldemort. My scar hasn't been bothering me at all. We're assuming Death Eaters may have her. Fact is, we don't know for certain. The only things we have to go on are Wales and some strange phrasing. We have no idea what to expect when we find Ginny."

"Wales," Hermione repeated. "You know, I remember reading something about that somewhere…"

Harry and Ron exchanged a look. They both knew where this was headed, and the idea of poring over books only increased Harry's frustration. He wanted to feel like he was doing something more tangible to find Ginny, something like jumping onto his Firebolt and flying into the cold, wintry night.

"Come on, you two can help me," Hermione was saying. She was halfway to the door. Ron rolled his eyes at Harry and followed. Harry dragged his feet all the way down to the common room. He couldn't think of anything he felt less like doing at the moment. He sat down at a table, slouching in his chair, and drummed his fingers while waiting for Hermione to return with the inevitable stack of books. Ron didn't look any more enthusiastic than Harry felt.

"Just what are we supposed to be looking for?" asked Ron, as he opened the tome Hermione handed him.

"Any reference to Wales or places in Wales." She was already turning pages rapidly, running an index finger along each leaf.

Harry couldn't help but wonder if she was just trying to keep them occupied while she searched. How could either he or Ron know what she was looking for? Something about Wales had obviously jogged her memory, but there was no way either of the boys was likely to recognise it even if he saw it. He tried to concentrate on what he was doing, but the text of the letter kept distracting him. It had said to come quickly or Ginny might be beyond his reach. And here he was wasting time squinting at fine print on tissue-thin pages.

He forced himself to sit still and concentrate. Ron didn't seem to be having any better luck in that department; he kept sighing and running a hand distractedly through his hair. After an hour or so Harry had had enough. This wasn't going to get them anywhere! He slammed shut the copy of The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts when he came upon the passage that mentioned his defeat of Voldemort as a baby. Hermione and Ron both looked up at him.

"I can't do this!" he shouted, standing too quickly and knocking his chair over. "I can't just sit here and do nothing!"

"Harry," Hermione said soothingly, "why don't you go down to the kitchens and get us something to eat?" She had calmed down considerably on the subject of house elves ever since Professor Dumbledore had offered to pay all the Hogwarts elves wages and give them days off. The elves had refused pay and holidays for the most part, and Ron had been a bit smug about that for a while.

They had all missed supper, but Harry wasn't hungry at all. On the other hand, he'd be moving, and maybe he could work off some of the energy he was brimming with. He nodded curtly and turned towards the portrait hole. "Get some extra while you're there," Ron called after him. "We might need it."

Harry made his way quietly to the Entrance Hall. He'd left the common room too quickly and hadn't thought of returning to his dormitory for the invisibility cloak and the Marauders' Map until it was too late. Fortunately, Mundungus Fletcher seemed to have gone to bed, and Harry didn't encounter Filch, Mrs Norris or Peeves. The castle was almost eerily quiet.

He continued down to the corridor with the brightly coloured paintings of food. It all looked overly cheerful, Harry thought. Glumly, he tickled the pear in the midst of its fruit bowl and entered the kitchens. They seemed as deserted as the rest of the castle at this late hour. Most of the house elves must be either in bed by now or off tending to duties elsewhere.

Not all of them, as Harry soon found out. He was just moving towards a likely-looking cupboard wondering if he would find anything edible inside, when a rather piercing squeak made him jump. It wasn't long before a small figure had hurtled itself at Harry and was hugging him tightly about his thighs.

"Harry Potter! Harry Potter! You is come to see Dobby!" squealed an excited voice.

Harry suppressed a groan. He was definitely not feeling up to Dobby's typical exuberance. "Erm, yeah."

"Where are your Wheezy and his lady?"

"Back in the common room." Dobby let out a giggle. "What's so funny?"

"Sir…" He giggled some more. "Dobby really shouldn't say, sir. Dobby will have to punish himself."

"Is it bad then?"

"Not bad…" Dobby looked around as if he was afraid someone would overhear. When he continued his voice had dropped to a whisper. "Dobby saw them, sir, your Wheezy and his lady. Last week. In a supplies closet…"

"But they didn't see you?" Harry was sure he knew the answer to that, as this was the first he was hearing of the incident.

"Oh no, sir. They was busy!" Dobby said gleefully.

Harry made a mental note to avoid choosing supplies closets the next time he was looking for a place to snog in. The idea of Dobby walking in on him and Ginny might even be a good image to keep in mind if things started getting out of control. But then he remembered that Ginny was gone, and he had to go after her.

His thoughts must have shown on his face for Dobby said, "Something is wrong, Harry Potter."

"Yeah, it is. Listen, Dobby, we've all managed to miss supper. Ron, Hermione and me, that is. Would you mind getting us something I can take back to the common room with me?"

Harry was surprised when Dobby didn't immediately hop into action. "What about your other Wheezy?"

Harry had to pause a moment before he realised the elf was referring to Ginny. Then he wondered how much he could tell Dobby. The note had said to tell no one, and he'd already let Ron and Hermione in on it. They didn't count though. He knew he could trust them. Dobby, on the other hand, might let something slip, but would that be a bad thing?

"Dobby, something's happened to Ginny." Dobby let out a horrified squeal at this. "You can't tell anyone about this, all right? I have to go find her. Look, do you think you could make me some extra to take along? I don't know how long I'll be gone."

Dobby wiped a tear away from the corner of his eye. "You is a great wizard, Harry Potter. I is happy to make you provisions."

Some time later, Harry lugged an enormous sack full of food up seven floors to the portrait hole. Dobby has made him several dozen sandwiches and included a selection of fruit, some cold chicken, and a jug of pumpkin juice, as well as a good many different desserts. There seemed to be enough to feed a small army, but Harry wasn't sure how he'd be able to transport it all once he was travelling. The sack was bulky and cumbersome.

He had to wake the Fat Lady up before she swung forward to admit him. Then he had to heave the sack through the portrait hole. He emerged into the common room sweaty and disgruntled, some of his panicky energy expended but not in a considerably better mood. It didn't help matters than when he looked up, he saw Ron and Hermione sitting very close together on one of the sofas, rather than diligently paging through Hermione's books.

"Taking a break, are we?"

Ron and Hermione separated quickly. "Did you bring us something to eat?" asked Ron.

"Yes, we all need to keep our strength up," added Hermione.

Harry passed out sandwiches, toying with the idea of telling them that Dobby had caught them in the supplies closet. That idea fled his mind very quickly, however, when Hermione said, "Harry, I think I've found her."

"Really? Where?"

"Look, it's all here in Prominent Pureblood Wizarding Families," she replied, rising and going over to the table where the tome was lying open. "There's a ruined castle called Carreg Cennen, which overlooks a village called Trapp."

"So that explains the first sentence of the note."

"Partly. There's more. You see, the castle isn't actually a ruin. It only looks like that to Muggles."

"You mean like Hogwarts?"

"Yes, except there's no Muggle-repelling Charms on it. Muggles can visit it, but there are parts of the castle, which are accessible only to wizards. The official story is that the place was destroyed after the War of the Roses because the owners sided with the Lancastrians. But what really happened was it was given over to a very prominent wizarding family, and they've owned it ever since." She paused for breath.

"I suppose this wizarding family was on the winning side then," said Harry.

"No, actually. Don't you remember your history?"

Harry looked blank.

"The Lancastrians won the war, but they lost that particular castle. But a wizarding family must have been considered better custodians. It's a Slytherin family, you see."

Harry stared at Hermione. "Not the Malfoys!"

"Yes, the same."

"Are you saying this…" He couldn't remember the name she'd given the castle. Looking at the book, he decided it was unpronounceable. "…This ruin is Malfoy Manor?"

"Oh no, I'm not certain it actually belongs to Draco's father. It could be another branch of the family. Anyway, the point is, did you ever wonder what Malfoy meant?"

Harry looked at Ron, who was smirking. "Erm, no, I can't say that I have."

"It's Old French for bad faith."

"Yes, Harry, didn't you know that?" said Ron, a humorous glint coming into his eye. Harry wondered why he seemed so much calmer now.

Hermione sighed. "And the letter talked about little faith. It's very close. Do you see? It all fits."

"I don't suppose you've got a picture of this place in one of your books, do you?" asked Harry. If he saw a picture, he could compare it to what the spell had revealed, and then they could be sure they had the right place.

"I haven't come across one, no," said Hermione. "But we could look for one."

But Harry was eager to be off again, now that he had something more solid to go on. "I think I'll take your word for it. I don't want to lose valuable time."

He was already starting for the stairs to his dormitory to collect his broom when Ron said, "Next thing to work out is how we're going to get there."

Harry stopped short. "What do you mean, we?"

"You don't think we're going to let you go after her by yourself, do you?"

"The note said to come alone, Ron."

"And if they're using Ginny as bait to catch you, you'll be walking right into it, Harry."

"And what if they…" Harry couldn't bring himself to say what he was thinking. "What if they do something to her because I didn't follow directions?"

"What if they do something to her because we didn't get there fast enough?" Hermione broke in. "We're wasting time arguing."

"I can hop on my broom and be off in a minute," said Harry. "But how are we all going to go together? You haven't even got a broom, and we can't Apparate yet since we haven't learned…"

"Not to mention…" interrupted Hermione.

"You can't Apparate on Hogwarts grounds," Ron and Harry finished for her.

Hermione smiled in spite of the gravity of the situation. "We might use a Port Key."

Harry raised his brows. His least favourite means of travel was by Port Key, but if it was the only way to get to Ginny quickly, he'd use one. "Do you know how to make one?"

"No, but we can look it up."

"I've wasted enough time on books," said Harry, but that wasn't strictly true. He'd thought of a book that just might help them out again and in the least amount of time.

He went up to his dormitory and thought about Port Keys. As before, when Harry had picked up the Dr Zog book and opened it, he found what he was looking for, a list of instructions for making several different types of Port Key. He'd never realised there were so many types. Some could be activated by a simple touch--he shuddered to think of the Tri-Wizard Cup--while others only worked at specific times. Some would even go to more than one location, depending on who touched it. Harry merely wanted something that would transport him to Carreg Cennen as soon as possible.

"What are you doing?" Hermione and Ron had followed him back up to his room.

"Finding instructions on how to make a Port Key."

"Let me see," said Hermione, and Harry handed her the book. "This is quite complicated," she said after a minute or two. "It says you ought to begin small, covering short distances first, and work your way up."

"We haven't got time to mess around with this," Harry protested.

"Come on, you can do it, Hermione," said Ron.

"All right. What are we going to use?" asked Hermione.

"We'll use this book," said Harry.

"I'm not sure that's such a good idea."

"Why? Won't it change back into a book once we've used it?"

"I suppose so, but what if we have to consult it for something? We don't want to be transported in the middle of the consultation, do we?"

"Well, then set it to go off at a particular time!" Harry rarely let himself get irritated with either of his two best friends, but his level of frustration was reaching its limit. He was tired of all the waiting and planning; he wanted to be off. That was how he was used to dealing with danger: something happened, and he met it head on.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him slightly. "Right."

Harry and Ron watched as she muttered a series of spells over the book. Finally she tapped it with her wand. "There. All ready." Harry reached out a hand. "Not so fast. I've set it to go off in the morning."

Harry wanted to shout, but he forced himself to reply in a reasonable tone. "Why?"

"You haven't packed anything. We ought to divide up that sack of food, for one thing." She was ticking things off on her fingers, as if she had an itemised list in her head. "It's winter; we'll all need our cloaks and warm clothes. I think your invisibility cloak might come in handy, and I imagine you can think of a few other useful things to bring along. Not to mention we'd be arriving in the middle of the night, it'll likely be pitch black out, and we'll have no idea of the lie of the land." She paused for breath.

"All right, I get the idea," Harry said before she could continue.

"Besides," Hermione went on in spite of him, "we missed supper. The staff are going to think something's going on much sooner if we miss breakfast as well."

When Hermione had gone off to bed and the boys were in theirs, Harry turned to Ron. "Why does she always have to be right?"

Ron shrugged. "Think you'd be used to it by now."

"It's infuriating."

"Nah, it's endearing."

Harry threw his pillow at Ron, and then swore to himself for throwing it away. How could Ron be so calm about this now? Earlier he'd been as irritable as Harry. He thought back to when he'd re-entered the common room earlier to find his two best friends on the sofa rather than studying. They hadn't really been snogging, and he'd known it at the time. His own frustration had caused him to say what he had. He wondered now if Hermione hadn't used some charm or other to calm Ron down.

Harry lay for a long time while sleep eluded him, imagining all sorts of horrible things happening to Ginny. He didn't think Ron was sleeping either, from the sound of his breathing.

They both lay, pretending, until sometime near dawn, when Harry passed into a fitful dream. In it he saw Ginny pacing on the parapet of some old ruin, the wind whipping her hair into wild tangles about her head. She seemed to be waiting, waiting for him. He wanted to go to her, but unseen bonds were preventing him. He called to her, but the wind tore the words from his lips and sent them into the void where there was no one to hear. Then the scene changed, and he was in the common room with her late at night. He held her against him and kissed her with a fierce passion until she went limp and trembled in his embrace.

He woke up then, his heart pounding. There was a dull, watery light in the window, and Ron was stirring. Harry was very glad that Ron had no idea what images had just been passing through Harry's mind. He felt rather uncomfortable about them himself. Ginny was in danger, and all he could think about was what might have been last night if she'd been at Hogwarts with him.

When Ron had trudged off towards the shower, Harry got up and began looking through his trunk for anything that might be useful: his warmer clothes, winter cloak, invisibility cloak, the knife Sirius had given him in his fourth year… Something made him think of the box of joke items Fred and George had given him, and he took out the Lock-picker. Lastly, he thought of the necklace. He'd be leaving Hogwarts' protective wards, so he might need it. He took it out of the drawer of his night table and put it on.

When the three of them went down to breakfast, Harry was relieved to see that Dumbledore was not present. Professor McGonagall, however, came over to the Gryffindor table almost immediately. "Where have you been? Why weren't you at supper last night?" With most of the students gone for the holiday, it had been all too obvious that they'd missed the previous evening's meal. "And where is Miss Weasley?" Her mouth was pursed into its familiar line.

"She's indisposed," replied Hermione. "She wasn't feeling well last night, and we stayed with her."

"Perhaps she ought to see Madam Pomfrey in that case."

"She was actually a bit better this morning," said Ron. "We'll take something back for her."

"See that you do, Mr Weasley. And if she's not better at lunch, I'll have to insist she go to the hospital wing."

Harry, Ron and Hermione breathed a collective sigh of relief, as Professor McGonagall returned to her seat with the rest of the staff. Not many had stayed on for the holiday. They finished their meal quickly, and Hermione tucked several slices of toast into a napkin, in case Professor McGonagall was keeping an eye on them. When they'd climbed back up to Gryffindor Tower and collected the things they were bringing--Harry had transfigured his school bag into a rucksack. It was almost time for the Portkey to activate.

Harry hoisted his rucksack over his shoulder, and the three of them stood in a circle, their arms outstretched to touch the book at the centre. It wasn't long before Harry felt the familiar jerk behind his navel, and the three were hurtling through space. The journey seemed rougher than it should have been, and they landed suddenly and heavily. Harry heard Hermione let out a surprised squawk and saw Ron go sprawling before he himself landed on his backside.

"Hermione, what did you do to that thing?" Harry asked as he got to his feet.

Hermione merely shrugged and looked around. "Harry, didn't you say something about a castle on a hill?"

Harry looked about. There was nothing familiar about this place. He saw green hills and a town not far away, but there was no castle. The day was cold and grey with a harsh wind that bit through Harry's winter cloak and made him shiver. "Where are we? Hermione, what did you do?"

"I merely followed the directions in that book. It did say to start small, didn't it?"

Harry repeated some rather choice words he'd heard Ron use under his breath, but it didn't make him feel any better.

"Look," said Ron, pointing, "there's a town over there. We could at least find out where we are."

Before they set off, they transfigured their cloaks into something less conspicuous. They were already wearing Muggle-style clothes since it was the Christmas holiday. When they'd walked a ways and reached the town, they could tell from the signs they were at least in Wales. That was something.

"Pontardawe," Hermione muttered.

"What?" said Ron.

"We're in Pontardawe," she replied more distinctly.

"And where is that in relation to where we want to go?" asked Harry.

"I don't know," Hermione admitted.

"Wonderful! That's just great!" Harry shouted. "Merlin only knows what's happening to Ginny, and we're lost!"

"Keep your voice down!" Hermione hissed. "We're just going to have to ask directions."

"Won't that seem odd, going and asking the Muggles the way to Malfoy's castle?" asked Ron.

"Not if we say Carreg Cennen. Muggles can visit it. I told you that."

Ron muttered something that sounded suspiciously like "mental" to Harry. "Where are we going to find a place to ask directions?" Harry wondered. "It's early on Sunday."

Hermione bit her lip for a moment. "I'm sure we'll find something open."

They walked a good bit of the way through town until they'd come to the outskirts on the opposite side before they finally found a petrol station. Hermione went in and bought a map with some Muggle money she'd had the foresight to bring along. When she came out again she looked rather grim.

"How far is it?" Harry asked, knowing he wasn't going to like the answer.

"Ten miles."

"TEN MILES? We're off by ten bloody MILES?"

"Harry, keep your voice down. I'm sorry. I did the best I could."

Harry knew Hermione was right; she had done her best.

"Look." Hermione was showing them the map. All we have to do is follow the A474 most of the way, and when we get to this village…" She pointed to Gwaun-Cae-Gurwen, and Harry couldn't blame her for not trying to pronounce the name. "…We take the local road to Trapp."

"Let's go," Harry said, and he started walking.

A/N: Thanks to Monique, Amy and Ami for their beta comments. If you're interested, Carreg Cennen really exists and I thought it looked like a cool place to visit. Someday I will visit the UK. Thanks for all the reviews. I appreciate them.

Harry had no idea how long he'd been walking. He'd been at it so long it seemed as if he'd never done anything else in his life beyond set one foot doggedly in front of the other. He was tired and cold, but he kept going, one step and then the next and then the next, each one bringing him that much closer to his goal.

Behind him Ron and Hermione were arguing, and he was trying his best to tune it out. The wind had risen, and that helped carry their words away from his ears. He couldn't remember when it had begun, since time was now no more than an endless cycle of steps, but they'd been going round and round with it for a good while now. He thought Ron had started it. They must have gone at least a mile when he'd asked, "Why can't we just turn that book into a Port Key again? It would save us the hike."

"It's no good, Ron," Hermione had answered. "I've been thinking about it, and we're very lucky we landed off the mark."

"By ten miles? Tell that to my feet. Can't we get closer somehow?"

"None of us has ever been where we're going. We have no idea what we'll land in the middle of."

"I still say we could get closer. We'd be less likely to miss the mark this time, wouldn't we?"

"Do you know of a safe place where we could come out? I don't."

"What? Are you actually admitting you don't know something?" Harry had winced at this point, expecting to hear a slap behind him, but all he'd heard was a loud, exasperated sigh. "Come on," Ron went on. "We could at least aim for the village. Wasn't there a village mentioned in the note?"

"We might be seen by Muggles. Or worse, the place could be crawling with Death Eaters. Someone might recognise Harry. That much ought to be obvious to you."

"They're expecting him, aren't they? They sent him a note telling him to come here."

"He still doesn't want to land in the middle of a trap."

"And they're not expecting us. We've got the element of surprise on our side."

"We don't want to land in the middle of a trap either."

"At this rate, we're not going to land in the middle of anything. We'll be crawling if we're lucky. It'll be ages before we get anywhere. The note said to hurry."

"That's something else I've been thinking about. I think we have time. They can't expect us to arrive so soon. They'll have expected Harry to take longer working out that clue for one thing."

"They won't have expected you to help him out? Miss Cleverest-Witch-at-Hogwarts? Anyway, by the time we get there, we'll be too knackered to do more than lie down and go to sleep…"

"You're impossible…"

Harry had stopped trying to follow them at that point, but they'd kept at it on and on. Harry supposed it helped them pass the time. All he wanted to do was focus on getting to Carreg Cennen. Right foot. Left foot. Right. Left. He had to keep going.

They'd left the main road behind them and were taking a less-travelled road. The terrain about them was rugged and no doubt very green in the summer. It was dull and brown now that there'd been a hard frost. The day itself was as sombre as the surrounding farmland.

They couldn't be far now, Harry felt. A castle on a hill, even an apparently ruined one, ought to be visible from miles away, but so far there had been no glimpse of anything remotely resembling what the Reperio spell had revealed to him… Was it only last night he had cast that? Less than twenty-four hours ago? It didn't seem possible. Hogwarts seemed a lifetime away from where he was now, walking along a road between hedgerows, which obscured a great deal of the surrounding countryside. Harry began to worry that they were lost again, that they'd taken a wrong turning somewhere. He was about to ask Hermione if he could have a look at the map again when the road turned sharply, and he saw it.

It looked exactly as it had in the vision. Carreg Cennen. In spite of the fact that he'd had very little sleep the previous night and he'd been walking for what seemed like most of the day, Harry felt invigorated by the sight. He gave a shout and began to run.

He could see a village nestled at the foot of the hill ahead of him as he hurried on. He knew it must be Trapp. A voice called out behind him, causing him to stop and turn.

"Wait, Harry," Hermione said, as she jogged up to him, Ron following. "We can't just rush up there. Ron and I have been discussing this. It's probably best if you aren't seen."

"Discussing?" Harry thought. "Is that what they called it?" But he didn't give voice to this idea. He merely raised his eyebrows at Hermione.

"Harry, the letter said to be careful about walking into a trap, and that's the name of the village," Ron pointed out.

"They'll be expecting you," added Hermione. "The place is probably full of Death Eaters. Didn't you hear Ron and I talking about it?"

"Sorry, I wasn't listening," said Harry. "How am I supposed to get up to the castle, then?"

"Let Ron go."

"No. Don't you think they'll recognise Ron? Or you for that matter?" Harry added, anticipating her next statement. "Listen, we don't know what's waiting for us in the village, but we have to go through it to get up there." He pointed to the crag, which dominated the view.

"We might go around," said Ron.

"They'll be watching for that, won't they?" countered Hermione.

"We have to try some way!"

It looked as if another discussion was imminent. Harry took off his rucksack and opened it. He'd had enough. "While you two are working out what to do, I'll just find my own way." He pulled out the invisibility cloak and put it on.

"Wait, Harry!" screeched Hermione, turning towards him. "Don't just disappear…" Harry pulled the hood from his head. "Don't do that! It's creepy."

"What is?"

"Well, I can't just talk to your head."

Harry sighed and removed the invisibility cloak entirely.

"All right, here's what we're going to do," Hermione went on. "We're dressed as Muggles already. If we cover up a bit more, like this…" She had transfigured her cloak into a parka when they'd first arrived outside Pontardawe, and now she pulled its hood over her conspicuous hair. "…We might pass unnoticed. Harry, you've got your cloak, and if Ron only hid his hair, we might have a chance. From the way the note was worded, I think they're expecting us to avoid the village, so we're going through it. Are we agreed?"

"Yes," said Harry, while Ron nodded. Harry didn't much care what they decided at this point as long as they did something.

"Then let's have a rest and a bite to eat before we go on."

There was no sun to judge by, but it had to be past noon. Harry realised he was quite hungry. Hermione quietly cast a warming charm on the ground, and they sat by the roadside and ate some of Dobby's sandwiches. Before they went on again, Hermione conjured a hat for Ron. Then Harry disappeared under his cloak, and the three set off towards the village.

All was quiet in the grey stone buildings. There was barely a sign of life, wizard or Muggle, but Harry wasn't sure he liked it. It was as if he were being led into a false sense of security.

On the opposite side of the village, the road began to rise even more steeply. It wasn't long before Hermione stopped them again. "Something else I learned back at the petrol station: the castle is on private farmland. We'll have to pay admission."

"Is that a problem?" asked Ron.

"No, I still have some Muggle money, but if the castle belongs to the Malfoy family, I have to wonder whether whoever we pay admission to is a Muggle or a wizard."

"I can't see any Malfoy letting Muggles onto their land."

"It depends, doesn't it? If they can make some money on the deal by charging admission, perhaps they think it's worth it. Plus, it's a way of controlling who comes in and out without it looking too suspicious, isn't it?"

"We're going to have to be careful, then," said Harry.

"Yes, you'd better leave that cloak on," advised Hermione.

They continued to climb until they came to the farm on which the castle stood. It looked like a perfectly ordinary Muggle farm with its main house and outbuildings huddled together and chickens milling in the yard. The castle itself looked quite a bit different now that they were closer to it. From beyond the village of Trapp, Harry had only been able to see the ruins of outer walls with the broken inner walls rising above them, pointing jaggedly against the sky. But now he could see that its walls and turrets were intact, rising hundreds of feet above the outer defences, vast and impregnable. Something told him that the massive structure was charmed to appear as a ruin from a distance, and even from this close a vantage, this was all a Muggle would ever see. Only a witch or wizard would see the whole castle.

They walked up the path towards the farmhouse, and a woman came out to greet Ron and Hermione. Harry could not tell by looking at her if she was a witch or not. She was dressed as a Muggle, but that was to be expected, he supposed.

She looked at Ron and Hermione sharply. "Afternoon. Come to visit Carreg Cennen?"

"Yes, please," replied Hermione briskly, as if she was in a hurry.

"We don't get many visitors this time of year."

Ron and Hermione exchanged an uncomfortable look. "It was a bit of a whim, I suppose," said Hermione. "We were on our way home from school for the Christmas holiday and decided to stop off…"

"Where do you go to school then?"

"Scotland."

The woman seemed very interested in that bit of information, as she looked keenly at Hermione, and Harry had to bite back a groan. Why couldn't Hermione have lied?

"Scotland, eh? You're a ways from there, aren't you? And you don't talk like you come from around here."

"We're spending Christmas with my aunt. I'm actually from St Albans."

The woman looked behind them, craning her neck and reminding Harry of his aunt Petunia. "And you walked all the way up here?"

Hermione's smile became strained. "Had a bit of car trouble actually. We left it in the village, but since we were already here, we decided to walk up and see the place. Now how much is admission?"

The woman immediately became more businesslike. "Three pounds each." Hermione handed over some money. "Now, you want to be sure and visit the caves. They're under the castle. Here, it's all on this map." She pulled a pamphlet out of her pocket and handed it to Hermione. "And there's the history in there, too. Make yourself at home. Normally the farm is open to visitors as well, but there's not a whole lot going on this time of year, I'm afraid. Enjoy your visit."

She walked off towards the house without a backwards glance.

"What did you tell her we went to school in Scotland for?" hissed Harry when he was sure the woman was out of earshot.

"I'm sorry, it was all I could think of."

"Let's go," said Ron. "Doesn't look like there's anyone about. It might be all right."

"Yeah, or she's just gone in to Floo up to the castle and tell them we're coming," said Harry grimly.

Harry, Ron and Hermione climbed the steep path to where the castle rose forbiddingly against the sky. The only sound Harry could hear was the wind, which hissed ceaselessly through the dry grasses and stone. There was no shelter, and he shivered.

"How are we going to do this?" he asked.

Hermione didn't answer right away but continued to pick her way up the path, her eyes on the dark grey rocks in front of her. "I think we're going to have to split up," she said at last. "Ron and I can play the tourist, but that means we'll have to stay in the parts of the castle that Muggle tourists can access. You'll have to go into the wizarding areas, but no one knows you're here, so it ought to be all right."

"So I just look for Ginny?"

"Yes, or anything that will help us locate her."

"And what if I don't find anything?"

"Ron and I will look for a way to sneak back up here. I'd say we have until sunset before we ought to let the woman at the farmhouse see us leave." She looked at her watch. "That doesn't give us long, actually. I think for now we worry about reconnaissance only. There won't be time for anything else. We need to check out that cave under the castle."

"Do you think that's where they're keeping Ginny?" asked Ron.

Hermione frowned. "I doubt it. They won't be keeping her in a spot the public can access, not unless there are several caves there. I read something in that book about the pureblood families about there being a way into the place through the cave. If we can find it and see where it comes out, we might be able to use it later to get back in."

"If it's not guarded, you mean," Ron pointed out.

"Yes, of course." Hermione stopped walking. They were almost to the outer walls now. "Are we all clear on what we're doing?" she asked, looking directly at Ron, as if she was addressing only him.

"I'll find the wizarding parts of the castle and see if I can find Ginny," Harry replied quietly.

"Yes. But just find her. I don't think you'll have time to get her out. We can plan what to do when we know more." Harry didn't like the sound of that, but he didn't make any comment. He knew if he tried to protest, they'd just waste more time arguing about it.

Hermione looked at her watch again. "Let's say we all meet back here in an hour and a half, whether we've got anything on Ginny or not."

"And if we run into any trouble?"

"Cross your fingers and hope for the best," Hermione said dryly. "Listen, if any of us is late for the rendezvous, the others will just leave. No heroics, all right?" Her tone went very firm when she said this. "We leave and find a way to notify Dumbledore."

"Yes, all right," replied Harry, although he knew that if anything happened to either Ron or Hermione, he'd be damned if he'd leave them behind. He wasn't about to leave this place without Ginny, either, but he kept these thoughts to himself. He had a feeling Hermione could tell what was going through his mind in any case and was simply refraining from making any further admonishments.

They continued through the outer walls and the barbican until they found themselves in the inner ward, expecting to be challenged at any moment--Harry was able to draw his wand since he was hidden by the invisibility cloak--but the place looked deserted. Ron and Hermione began to look about as if they were tourists, exclaiming over the view. Harry eased off, looking for the entrance to the inhabited part of the castle. He could look to his right now and see two towers looming over him--a third was directly in front of him--their windows mere slits in the four-foot thick walls. But the windows all looked lifeless. There was nothing to indicate anyone else was here. That thought gave Harry an odd, unsettling feeling. Something was amiss.

He felt his way along the wall until it suddenly gave way, and he passed through an opening. It was a lot like passing through the barrier at Kings Cross. He found himself in a short passage that opened onto a great hall. There he could see a figure or two at the opposite end of the hall. So the place wasn't as deserted as it seemed; yet it wasn't exactly teeming with Voldemort's servants, either. Once more Harry had to wonder what was going on. It hardly looked as if they were expecting any visitors. It didn't even look as if anyone was keeping watch over the public part of the castle. Had he been led on a wild goose chase?

To Harry's left along one of the walls were some steps, and he took them, coming out at a gallery, which overlooked the great hall. He could see passages leading away from the gallery, no doubt to other parts of the castle. He chose one at random and soon found himself ascending into one of the three towers he'd seen from below. There was no sign of anyone else on the stairs. Harry knew that if Ginny was here, she must be under guard of some sort or other, but he climbed to the top of the tower to be sure. The stairs ended at a room, but the door was unlocked, and it was empty. Before he turned back down the stairs, he looked out the window into the inner ward. Ron and Hermione were nowhere in sight, and he hoped they'd found their way to the cave.

Harry was almost back down to the level of the gallery when he heard footsteps. He froze in place just inside the stairwell, dread at being caught taking hold. The stairway was narrow, and if whoever it was decided to come up here, there would be little Harry could do to hide; he might be invisible, but he was still solid.

A figure passed, and Harry breathed a sigh of relief, but he'd also caught a glimpse of a face, one that seemed familiar to him. He followed stealthily, wracking his brains. He thought if he could see the person full on, he'd know who it was.

As it turned out, Harry didn't have to wait long, nor did he have to see the person's face. The figure was heading away from the gallery and the great hall. Harry couldn't be sure, but he thought this corridor must be leading them towards the other towers. He halted, as the person he was trailing paused at a doorway. He could hear a muttered incantation or password, and the door swung open. But someone else emerged almost immediately, and Harry could hear the two speaking in low voices. He crept closer to catch what they were saying.

"How long are you leaving her there?" said one voice.

"Till his Lordship calls for her again. Shouldn't be long."

"She ought to be allowed more time to recover."

"What's it to you, Macnair?"

Macnair! Now Harry knew why the man had seemed familiar. He remembered him from his third year when he'd thought Macnair was simply a Ministry employee sent to execute Buckbeak. He also remembered the following year when Voldemort had returned and summoned his servants. Macnair had been present then, too.

"It's nothing to me," Macnair was saying, "only he's taking too much out of her. She's not going to be able to do what he wants if she's this exhausted."

"She's asleep now. She'd better make the most of it."

A third voice shouted something from further down the passage, and the two men moved on. Harry hurried to the door where they'd just been talking and tried to open it, but it was locked. He was sure it led to where Ginny was, and he swore in frustration. Drawing his wand, he tried, "Alohomora," but that didn't work either. He was certain Hermione would know another spell that would open the door, but there was no time to go looking for her now. Then he thought of the twins teaching him how to pick a lock with a hairpin, but he had something better than that. He'd brought the prototype Lock-picker they'd invented.

He looked around quickly to make sure no one else was about. Although he had on the invisibility cloak, he couldn't be sure it would stay on him properly while he rummaged in his rucksack. The corridor remained empty, and Harry dug out the Lock-picker and made swift work of opening the door.

Another set of stairs wound steeply up another tower. Harry was experiencing another rush of adrenaline, as he was sure his goal was near now, and he had to force himself to climb the stairs quietly. There had been one person up here guarding Ginny. There might be more.

It took a long time to reach the top. This tower was much higher than the other one he'd climbed. Not for the first time today, he wished he'd brought his Firebolt along. He could make a quick escape on that--if there was a large enough window handy at any rate.

When he felt as if his knees were about to turn to rubber the stairs ended, and he was faced with another locked door. The Lock-picker came in handy once more, and Harry burst into the room, his wand at the ready, in case there was another guard, but it, too, seemed empty at first. Harry turned in disappointment, resigned to climbing down yet again.

Then he saw Ginny. She was lying on the stone floor, her body partially obscured by the open door. Her back was turned towards him, and her hair was spread out, covering her face. She lay perfectly still, and Harry thought she couldn't be very comfortable. He shrugged off the invisibility cloak and hurried to her.

"Ginny, wake up," he called softly, relief at having found her at last filling him, as he turned her over. Then his heart caught in his throat as he took in her pallor and the dark purple smudges under her eyes. She looked at least as bad as she had last summer, but that was impossible. She'd been here for twenty-four hours, more or less. They couldn't have forced her to make a protective talisman in that short a time, could they?

He shook her gently and called to her again, and still she lay unresponsive. "Ginny, please wake up!" he cried more desperately, and then he froze, realising what he'd just said. In his mind's eye he could see her, a small, pale twelve-year-old on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets. He shook himself. She was only sleeping; the other wizard had said as much to Macnair.

He sat down on the floor and lifted her partially into his lap. With one shaking hand, he tenderly brushed back her hair before placing that hand against her face and rubbing the pad of his thumb along her cheekbone. Her eyelids fluttered, and he took heart.

"Come on, Ginny, you have to wake up so we can get out of here. You can sleep all you want once we're back at Hogwarts."

She brought up a hand and swatted at him half-heartedly. "Go 'way," she muttered.

Harry wanted to laugh out loud, in spite of everything, when he heard those words. He lifted her limp form and held her to him, pressing his lips to her forehead. He was going to have to find a way to wake her up, though, and soon. There wasn't any way he'd be able to carry her down all those stairs and out of here. He'd probably fall and break both their necks.

He was reaching for his wand, wondering if an "Enervate" spell would work on someone who hadn't been magically stunned, when he heard someone coming up the steps. Heart pounding, he pointed his wand at the invisibility cloak instead.

"Accio!"

He quickly slid Ginny back to the floor, donned the cloak and stood behind the door. Too late, he remembered that this door had been shut and locked. Whoever was about to come in here would know something was up. He tightened his grip on his wand.

In the next instant, Macnair had entered the room looking around suspiciously. Harry knew he couldn't be seen, and he remained motionless, hoping Macnair would go away so he could make good his escape. But then Harry saw that Macnair was holding something in his hand, a goblet, and there was likely some kind of potion in it. Macnair had his wand out and was pointing it at Ginny.

Harry had to do something. Now. But the door was in the way of his getting a clear shot on Macnair. He had to take a step to the side first. Macnair must have had extremely acute hearing, either that or he suspected someone else was in the room already. In any case, when Harry shouted, "Stupefy!" Macnair dodged the spell, spilling the contents of the goblet over his robes. Then he turned towards Harry, wand raised, and looked him straight in the eye, as if he'd not been wearing an invisibility cloak at all.

"Who's there? Show yourself!"

Harry pulled off the invisibility cloak, keeping his wand trained on Macnair. The older man's eyes widened slightly, but he otherwise betrayed no sign of surprise. "Potter. Fancy finding you here."

Harry kept his gaze riveted on Macnair. "I'm taking Ginny back to Hogwarts with me," he began, as if he were discussing the weather. Then suddenly he cried, "Expelliarmus!"

Once more, Macnair leapt aside, bat-like, with more agility than expected.

"Petrificus totalis!"

The spell bounced off Harry, causing him to stumble, and Macnair did seem rattled then.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry cried again, as he regained his balance, and he caught the other wizard's wand neatly.

He opened his mouth to stun his opponent, but before he could utter the incantation, Macnair said something completely unexpected. "Dumbledore's still letting you get away with crossing lines, I see."

Harry stared at him as the words sunk in. It was a very strange thing for Macnair to say. In fact, it was oddly reminiscent of something Professor Snape had once said about him.

In response to a couple of questions about what Hermione saw in the Dr Zog book… Well, she didn't see anything dodgy, at least I don't think so. The book is a continual surprise to me. It was never meant to get the amount of screen time it has. But I guess I should clarify one thing: the book shows boys what they're most interested in. If a girl picks it up, it looks like a boring spell book. Of course, the book also has a rather twisted sense of humour, I'm learning, so you never know when it will decide to liven things up by playing a trick on you. ;-) It's definitely got Sirius' sense of humour… although Sirius is not Dr Zog.

Harry continued to stare, speechless, at Macnair. He told himself the older wizard was just trying to confuse him, to throw him off, but then something else struck Harry beyond the odd statement Macnair had just made. It was the concern he'd shown for Ginny earlier. It didn't add up. Macnair was an executioner; he was supposed to be cold-blooded. But then, in Harry's estimation, so was Professor Snape. Harry gave himself a mental shake. He needed to act now, while he had the upper hand, if he was going to get Ginny out of here.

"How are you enjoying Potions class this year?"

Macnair said this with a smirk, almost as if he knew just what sort of character Mundungus Fletcher possessed. This aroused Harry's suspicions once more. Was Macnair trying to tell him that Fletcher was on Voldemort's side? That Fletcher was responsible for Ginny being here? No, that didn't quite make sense, either. Why give that sort of information out needlessly? But then, if this was really Snape, and Fletcher was on Dumbledore's side, that would make sense, as well. Harry needed answers now.

"What are you playing at?" Harry asked him.

"I'm trying to stop you from stunning me before I've had a chance to explain." He sounded very impatient.

"Explain what? That you're really Professor Snape? I don't think…"

"I am Professor Snape," Macnair said quickly, his lips barely moving, cutting Harry off.

Harry told himself he shouldn't believe the man, that he ought to just stun Macnair and be done with it. Death Eaters were likely trained in confusing opponents, and Macnair had just hit on a very good way to confuse Harry. But something stopped him. "Prove it."

"Last year in Potions class, you earned a detention from me when your Scouring Solution exploded all over the dungeon."

Harry thought this was said this much too quickly, as if he'd been ready with the story. "Malfoy could have told you about that. He's the one who added an extra measure of dragon's blood to my cauldron when my back was turned. Ron saw him do it just before the whole thing blew up."

The older wizard's expression was very smug. "I know. I saw him do it, too. But, you see, it doesn't do me much good to give detention to Lucius Malfoy's son. You, on the other hand…"

He trailed off as Harry raised his wand, perhaps realising that now probably wasn't the best time to goad Harry. "If you're really Professor Snape, you can tell me what my mark on my Potions final was last year."

"Do you know how many students I teach? Do you actually expect me to remember your mark?" The way in which he said this made Harry suspect that he really did recall Harry's mark and was just looking for a more subtle way to needle him. This as much as anything else convinced Harry it was really Snape.

"I'll bet you know Hermione's."

"That isn't difficult. She's got the highest marks of anyone," he spat. "Ninety percent." He sounded as if he begrudged the mark being even that high, but Harry was sure that with any other teacher, it would have been even more impressive. "You, Potter," he went on, "managed a mere seventy two percent, if I recall."

Harry slowly lowered his wand but remained alert in case he was mistaken. He knew that only Professor Snape would have such ready access to this kind of information, but he was still having difficulty making sense of what was going on.

"Aren't you going to give me my wand back?" asked Snape, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Not yet," replied Harry, and he thought he heard Snape mutter something about how being overly cautious was very un-Gryffindor-like under his breath. It almost sounded as if Snape was impressed. "I want an explanation first. What's going on here?"

Snape let out an exasperated sigh. "Close the door," he ordered tersely. Harry did so. "It'll have to be quick. I don't know how much time we have before she'll be called for again." He nodded towards Ginny, who was still lying on the floor, oblivious to everything.

"What have they done to make her so tired?" Ginny had gone from Hogwarts for about twenty-four hours now, and Harry didn't think that was enough time for her to have made a crystal.

"I'm not sure. Macnair was inner circle, but Lucius Malfoy didn't seem to like him very much. He treated him like a lackey and didn't let him in on everything." His tone was very sour, and Harry surmised that he wasn't happy at all about having to go into all of this.

Harry was surprised to hear Snape refer to Macnair in the past tense. "Was?" he asked.

Snape nodded curtly. "The real Macnair is dead, but the Dark Lord doesn't seem to have discovered that yet. When I took Macnair's place, no one batted an eyelash."

"How can you do that? You'd need him alive to keep making Polyjuice Potion."

"That would be true if I were using Polyjuice Potion. I'm not." He smiled slowly, pride evident in his expression. "I've developed something a bit more permanent than that. I don't have to take it every hour, and the person I'm replacing doesn't have to be alive to furnish parts of himself. It's all highly secret…"

Harry thought he saw Snape shudder slightly. He wondered how such a potion might be made to specifically impersonate someone else, someone who was dead. He could think of a few possibilities, none of them pleasant, and so he preferred not to ask. Instead he asked something else. "Are you saying you're stuck like that? As Macnair, I mean."

Snape shrugged. "I don't know. I maybe. No one else has ever tried this before. It could wear off tomorrow for all I know."

Harry stared at Snape. He was taking a terrible chance. As Severus Snape, his life was already forfeit because he had not remained a loyal Death Eater. Harry remembered the night Voldemort had re-embodied and called his servants to him. "One who I believe has left me forever…" Voldemort had said. "He will be killed of course." Harry had every reason to believe the Dark Lord had been talking about Snape.

Now his life was doubly at risk. Should he be caught spying, Harry didn't like to think how Voldemort might choose to punish Snape. The Killing Curse would be much too quick. As much as Harry and Snape detested each other, Harry wouldn't wish something like that on the man. Snape met Harry's gaze and nodded once, a sharp up and down motion with his head. Harry felt as if his former Potions master had read his mind.

"So you see, Potter," Snape went on, "we must be careful how we go about things. If you're going to take Miss Weasley back to Hogwarts with you, you will have to move quickly."

Harry was all for that. "I don't have much time anyway. Ron and Hermione are expecting me…"

"What?" Snape hissed, and somehow it was more effective at conveying his emotion than if he had shouted. He swore quite colourfully. "I should have known you'd bring your two sidekicks! That note said to come alone!"

"How do you know?"

"I'm the one who sent it," Snape grated, as if this should have been obvious.

"You sent it," Harry repeated dazedly. That explained the lack of vigilance around the castle, at any rate. None of the Death Eaters knew about the note, and they hadn't expected Harry to turn up here. "If you sent it, you ought to know me well enough to know I would have shown that note to Ron and Hermione. In any case, they were with me when I got it. We already knew Ginny was missing."

"I needed to find a way to get Miss Weasley out of here without jeopardising my position too much. I knew I could count on your nobility to want to come after your friend's sister. You're just like your father." The way he said that told Harry he hadn't meant it as a compliment. "But I was also counting on Granger wanting to go straight to Dumbledore and informing him. It looks as if I've misjudged her."

"Then why make it all so cryptic?"

"In case it was intercepted. I couldn't make it look like I was tipping Dumbledore off. At the same time, if it was intercepted, I could have argued that I was trying to lure you here as an extra prize for the Dark Lord."

"What do they need Ginny for? What makes her such a prize?"

"The Death Eaters have learned she's made you a working talisman. They want her to make one for the Dark Lord."

"But how do they know about that?" Harry protested. "No one is supposed to know."

"I don't know how they found out, but I think it's safe to assume there's a spy at Hogwarts. I don't know how far they got with her, either. She'd been holed up with Lucius Malfoy and his cronies since her arrival yesterday afternoon until just before I came up here. I think she must have defied them and not co-operated, judging from the looks I saw on Malfoy's face. I was bringing her a potion just now to help her hold out before they call for her again."

Harry remembered the first potion they'd made in class this year. It seemed so long ago. "Fortitude Potion?"

"Yes." This was said simply, with no praise intended for Harry's having remembered his Potions lessons.

"Well now she won't need it…"

Harry trailed off as he looked at his watch. His heart sped up. "Shit, I'm going to be late," he muttered to himself.

Snape raised his eyebrows; he'd evidently heard. "There are potions you can take to improve almost any sense you want," Snape commented. "Increased hearing can come in quite handy to a spy." This at least explained to Harry how Snape had managed to detect his presence in the room while he was wearing the invisibility cloak. "Don't worry," Snape went on, "I haven't been passing it out to the other lackeys."

"Listen, um, Professor, there may be a problem here. I was supposed to meet Ron and Hermione back outside the walls, and there's no way I'm going to make it in time even without Ginny. We agreed that if one of us didn't turn up, the others would go straight to Dumbledore."

Snape looked sour. It was quite strange, really, seeing such a typical Snape expression on Macnair's face. "Right. I can make you a Port Key that will have both you and Miss Weasley back at Hogwarts before Granger and Weasley get there. You can head them off…"

He broke off, and soon Harry heard the unmistakable sound of someone coming up the stairs. Snape swore again, and then he hissed, "Hide!"

Harry grabbed his invisibility cloak and darted to where he'd be hidden by the door when it opened. Then he remembered he still had Snape's wand and tossed it to him just in time. The door opened in the next instant.

"There you are!" said a surly voice. "You're needed down in the caves on the double. There's a security problem."

The caves, Harry thought wildly, that could only mean one thing. Ron and Hermione had been caught down there.

"I'll be right there," Snape replied. He did not look pleased. Harry heard the other man begin to descend the stairs again, and Snape moved to follow. As he passed, he looked hard at Harry, as if to say, "Don't do anything stupid." Then he was gone.

Harry sat down on the floor next to Ginny. She hadn't moved at all, in spite of all the activity around her. He listened closely and could hear her breathing deeply and regularly. She was fast asleep. He idly picked up a lock of her hair and played with it, absently noting all the shades of red: each strand seemed to be a different colour.

His stomach was churning unpleasantly. All he'd wanted to do was get her out of here and safely back to Hogwarts, and now he had to cool his heels until he knew his friends were all right. And he couldn't do anything that would blow Snape's cover. All that added up to sitting, waiting and worrying.

He thought about Ginny and all she'd been through in the past day. He still didn't know how they'd managed to take her. And what had they done to her to exhaust her so? Snape had thought she'd put up a fight, and Harry now remembered something Ron had once said, something about no one making her do anything she didn't want to. Harry shuddered at the thought of them hurting her, and a hot wave of anger burned through him. He had to get her out of here, and soon. He knew they'd be back for her, and he had to be gone before that.

But there was also Ron and Hermione to consider. He couldn't abandon them, either. He could only hope that Ron and Hermione would prove somewhat of a distraction to the Death Eaters so Ginny would have more time to recover. And then he was angry at himself for having such a callous thought. No. They, all four of them, needed to escape this place as soon as they could and without giving Snape away. It seemed impossible.

Harry suddenly felt tired right down to his bones. He'd barely slept the night before, and he'd walked for miles in the cold. He stretched out on the floor beside Ginny, making sure he was still covered by the invisibility cloak, and put his arms around her. She sighed in her sleep and nestled closer to him. It was as if they were made to fit together. Harry dozed off in spite of the unforgiving stone on which they both lay.

*

Harry awoke with a start. It was dark in the room now. Ginny was still asleep beside him, but at some point she'd shifted positions and rested her head on his chest. Harry lay for a moment and berated himself for falling asleep. Someone could have come in and discovered him, and a bad situation would have become much worse. He eased himself out from under Ginny and stood up, hearing her murmur something and toss restlessly before settling once again.

There was someone coming up the stairs, and Harry took up his position by the door. If it was anyone but Snape, Harry resolved to stun him and go in search of Ron and Hermione, but then he realised that would mean abandoning Ginny. He muttered a few choice words to himself. Then the door opened.

"I heard that, Potter," a silky voice said quietly. "You're lucky I can't take points here, because you're tempting me."

If Harry wasn't so sure that Snape didn't possess a sense of humour, he'd think that Snape was teasing him. "That isn't funny," Harry grated. "What's going on?"

"Your two sidekicks have been caught. I thought Granger was more clever than that, but Weasley is too hot-headed…"

"Where are they?" Harry interrupted, feeling his heart sink as his fears were confirmed. He wondered if the woman at the farm had told someone up here that there were guests coming. "What's happening to them?"

"They're being held in the dungeons, but that's not the worst of it. Malfoy has his lackeys scouring the place looking for you. They've obviously seen no trace of you yet, but you're going to have to be very careful. They know that where Granger and Weasley can be found, you can't be far away. I don't suppose that occurred to any of you. They've also worked out that you were somehow alerted as to just where you might find Miss Weasley for you to get here so quickly." Snape paused here and let the words sink in.

"Have they…" Harry began.

"They don't know who's tipped you off, and Granger and Weasley can't tell them, since they don't know themselves." He laughed harshly. "They could be given Veritaserum and it would do no good. You, on the other hand, could tell them quite a lot that would interest them." Snape took a step towards Harry, suddenly looking quite sinister in the small amount of light that was filtering into the room. "You must be very, very careful if you want to get your friends out of here," Snape went on. "Malfoy is going to be through with them soon, and when he is, he's going to want Miss Weasley back. When she is taken out of here, I strongly suggest you go and set Granger and Weasley free. I'll make you a Port Key that will send the three of you back to Hogwarts."

"No!" said Harry as loudly as he dared. They'd been talking in undertones up until now. "I'm not leaving without Ginny."

"I will make sure that Miss Weasley is sent back unharmed."

"No!" Harry said again even more adamantly.

"There's no time for this now," Snape hissed. "They're coming for her." More footsteps could be heard approaching, and Snape lowered his voice to the barest whisper. "Do nothing to stop them now." The words were enunciated very clearly, and Harry thought he saw Snape's eyes glitter.

Harry wanted very badly to disobey, but he knew Snape was right. If the Death Eaters discovered he'd been up here all this time, suspicion would be cast on "Macnair". Harry didn't want to feel responsible for the consequences if Voldemort's servants discovered Snape's subterfuge because of him.

It took the entire force of his will to stand there quietly as several men came into the room and hauled Ginny roughly to her feet. Her eyelids fluttered open for an instant before she crumpled back to the floor in a heap. One of the figures turned to Snape.

"I thought you were going to give her something to keep her awake."

"I tried to earlier, but she was too unresponsive. I ended up spilling it all over my robes instead." Harry was amazed by the change in Snape's demeanour. It was subtle and yet tangible. He'd never imagined his Potions teacher would be such a good actor. "Perhaps it would be better to wait until morning," Snape was suggesting.

"His Lordship is insisting on doing this now," replied the other. Harry had to assume that "His Lordship" referred to Lucius Malfoy, and he found the title rather ridiculous. He wondered what Voldemort thought of this designation, if indeed he even knew about it. "There's no time to be wasted. If Potter's friends have found her this quickly, can Dumbledore be far behind?"

He signalled to one of the others, who picked up Ginny and slung her over his shoulder where she hung limply like a rag doll. When they'd gone, Harry paced about the room burning with anger at the way they were treating her.

After a few minutes, he was sure they were far enough away that he could venture down the stairs himself. He had no idea how long they'd keep Ginny this time--although from the looks of things, they'd kept her awake for twenty-four hours the last time--but he decided he'd have enough time to get his bearings and find the dungeons. If he could get Ron and Hermione out, that would be something. Perhaps they'd have some ideas how to rescue Ginny. He could tell them they had an ally among Lucius' lackeys…

But even as the thought crossed his mind, he realised he couldn't tell them. If they were caught again and given Veritaserum, that would be it for Snape, and it would be his fault. With all the history between him and Snape, it was very strange indeed to feel he had to protect the man, but Harry reasoned that Snape must have felt much the same way during Harry's first year when he'd protected Harry from Professor Quirrell.

Harry managed to find his way back down to the great hall without incident, but now he was at a loss. Ron and Hermione were being held in the dungeons, and he had no idea how to find them. Glumly, he thought of the Marauder's Map, which he'd left back in his dormitory room at Hogwarts. Not that that particular map would help him here, but something similar would certainly have come in handy.

The castle seemed mainly deserted, as it had earlier, and Harry suspected that most of its inhabitants were involved with whatever they were doing to Ginny or looking for him. He thought that even if he did manage to locate Ron and Hermione they'd be under guard, and he'd have a job of it trying to free them unnoticed. For an instant he thought about locating Ginny instead, but that wouldn't do him much good, either. He'd simply be forced to stand by and witness whatever she was going through, in order not to call attention to himself and be captured in his turn. Above all else, he couldn't allow that to happen.

He resigned himself to beginning at one end of the great hall and methodically trying all the passages and doors until he found one that led to the dungeons. Luckily the castle wasn't anywhere near the size of Hogwarts, or he wouldn't have even considered doing this. He was careful to be as quiet as he could, but even so he had a near miss when he opened one door to find someone on the other side of it. Fortunately for Harry, whoever it was had his back turned, and it looked very much as if he was darning a pair of socks. Harry let out a long breath and stifled the urge to laugh as he slipped away.

At one point he came across Snape skulking outside a door and decided that must be where Ginny was being held. Everything was eerily silent, and Harry wasn't sure that was a very good sign. He kept going.

At last he found what he was looking for, a flight of stairs that led downwards. He took them, winding ever further into the bowels of the castle. He came out in a dark passage lit by feeble torchlight. He paused before going on, wondering how heavily Ron and Hermione would be guarded.

A noise came from further along the passage, causing him to freeze and his heart to pound. Someone was coming. No, it was more than one person, and it sounded as if they were dragging something heavy. Harry flattened himself against the wall: the passage was narrow, and he didn't want to risk detection.

Soon he saw two figures approaching, dragging a third between them. As they passed, Harry caught a glimpse of red hair and realised with rising panic that it was Ron and that he was unconscious--at least Harry fervently hoped so.

He hesitated, torn once more. Should he go after Ron or try to find Hermione? Was Hermione even down here, or had she been dragged out earlier while he was wandering around upstairs? This entire adventure had been nothing but one frustration after another. Either he was prevented outright from acting as he wanted, or he was forced to choose between the lesser of two evils. He decided it would take less time to check and see if Hermione was down here than to follow Ron and find he'd be obliged to come back for Hermione.

He hurried down the passage, and it wasn't long before he'd spied a closed door among all the open ones along the passage. There didn't seem to be any more guards. He used the Lock-picker on the door, not even bothering with magic.

There was a form on the floor. It moved as the door swung open, and Harry could just make out Hermione's face in the torchlight. The dim light was enough to reveal that she'd been crying.

"Who's there?" she quavered.

Harry rushed to her. "Ssh, Hermione, it's me," he said quietly.

"Harry!" The name came out on a sob.

"Hermione, we have to be quiet, in case there's more guards about." He took the chance of removing the invisibility cloak.

"Harry, what are you doing here?" she hissed. "We agreed no heroics."

Harry took her scolding as a sign she hadn't been really hurt in any way. "Did you really expect me to go back to Hogwarts and leave you here? Are you all right? Have they done anything to either of you?"

"You must have seen Ron just now."

"Yeah, what have they done with him?"

"I don't know. They'd barely got us down here when someone else came along and said they wanted Ron upstairs. Then they stunned him and dragged him off. Before that they just asked loads of questions. Ron did put up quite a fight before they disarmed us, but other than that…"

Harry wasn't sure she was telling them everything. He suspected Hermione had done her share of fighting, as well. "What did they do with your wands?"

"Took them. I saw one of the Death Eaters pocket them, but I couldn't tell you if he still has them."

"Right. Listen, I found where they're keeping Ginny, except she's not there at the moment."

"Is she all right? Did you find out what they want her for?"

"They know she can make talismans. I don't know how they found out, but they know. They're trying to force her to make one for Voldemort. I saw her for a bit, but all she wants to do is sleep."

Hermione was silent for a while; then she said slowly, "I don't like this, Harry. They knew who we were when they captured us. If they're trying to force Ginny to do something against her will, they've probably taken Ron as a means of convincing her to do what they want." Harry's stomach plummeted as Hermione went on. "I've been reading about talismans. They won't work unless the jewel-wright is acting of his or her free will. So the Imperius Curse wouldn't help them. And they can't use Cruciatus on her, or she won't be in any condition to make a crystal, either. It takes an enormous amount of power. But…"

"… But they could torture Ron to make her give in," Harry finished for her.

Hermione nodded, and Harry thought he heard her breath hitch.

"Then we've got to put a stop to this now." Harry didn't mention it to Hermione, but he knew Lucius Malfoy and his cronies wouldn't be above a little Mudblood-torture, as they were sure to term it, either. "The first thing we have to do it get your and Ron's wands back. Would you recognise the person who has them?"

"Yes, I think so."

"Come one then."

"Where are we going?"

"I think I know where they've got both Ron and Ginny. We're going to find them, and if we're lucky, the person who has your wand will be in that room as well." In Harry's opinion, they were due for a change in their luck, and he was ready to trust in it.

He held up the invisibility cloak, and Hermione rose and joined him underneath it. Neither of them was as small as either had been first year when Harry, Hermione and Ron had hidden beneath the cloak. It covered the two of them now, but just barely. Together they set off towards the stairs that led from the dungeon.

Harry and Hermione cautiously climbed the stairs to the main level of the castle. Harry paused when they'd reached the top. He was sure he remembered the way back to the door where he'd seen Snape, but he wanted to be certain there was no one in the corridor. He motioned to Hermione with his head, and they crept down the passage together.

As they moved along, Harry wondered if Snape would still be at his post outside the room where he thought Ginny must be. If Snape was still there, it would pose a problem. Harry would have to find a way around him somehow without revealing anything to Hermione.

They turned another corner. Harry was certain this was the right passage, but it was now deserted. He wondered for a moment how they were going to manage to find the right door, but that problem was solved when they heard a muffled cry.

It was Ron, Harry was sure of it. He thought Hermione made a soft, strangled sort of sound in her throat, as if she was biting back a cry of her own. By tacit agreement they quickened their pace, hurrying onwards as they heard Ron shout again, heedless now to the noise they might have been making themselves. It didn't matter. The corridor was empty, and they were soon standing in front of their goal.

Harry reached out a hand to snatch open the door, but Hermione's hand on his arm held him back. He looked at her, eyebrows raised, and she shook her head once. They may have been invisible, but the door opening in a rush would surely attract attention.

He reached more slowly this time. They could hear Ron screaming more loudly than ever, and Harry's hand shook with anger. He slowly eased the door open, and they both slipped into a bare room with stone walls. It was as cold and dank as a dungeon. His gaze quickly assessed the scene.

There were four Death Eater lackeys standing with their backs to the door. Their attention was drawn towards the centre of the room where Lucius Malfoy stood, his wand turned on Ron, who was writhing in pain on the floor. Ginny was bound to a pillar nearby, her eyes screwed shut but obviously awake now and unable to stop her ears to her brother's agony.

Malfoy lifted his wand, pointing it towards the ceiling, and Ron lay twitching slightly. "Don't give in to him, Ginny," he panted. His voice was barely audible, but Harry heard every word clearly in the echoing chamber.

Ginny opened her eyes slowly, and her chin went up in defiance, but Harry could see the fear in her eyes. A tear escaped and slipped down her cheek.

Then his eye caught a movement in the background. Someone was lurking in the shadows near a door at the back of the room. Harry thought it might be Snape, but it was difficult to tell.

"Still not convinced?" Malfoy sneered. "It's in your power to spare him, you know, but if you don't act quickly he'll be fit for St. Mungo's." He shrugged as Ginny stared back at him in silence. "All you have to do is say the word." Then he turned back to Ron. "CRUCIO!"

Hermione started beside Harry as the screams began again. He could feel her tense up as if she was ready to spring. He wanted to jump forward himself, his wand at the ready, but he knew he couldn't afford to. Not yet, not until they'd retrieved Ron's and Hermione's wands. He put out a hand to restrain Hermione, thinking as he did so of all the times in the past she'd kept him out of trouble with Draco Malfoy by holding onto his robes. He started to glance over at her in order to silently communicate the need to wait when a new voice was added to the din.

"STOP! Stop it! Let Ron go, and I'll do what you want!"

Malfoy lowered his wand and turned to Ginny, an evil smile contorting his features. "I knew you'd see reason. Eventually." He almost sounded happy that Ginny had held out for so long. Then he addressed his lackeys. "Take him back to the dungeons. And if you want to take turns with the Mudblood, be my guests. He can watch."

Harry felt another jolt of anger course through him, but before he could even think about moving, Hermione tugged on his sleeve. She was pointing at one of Malfoy's men, who was bending down in the process of hauling Ron to his feet. Two wands could be seen sticking out of a pocket in his robes. Harry pointed his wand at them and whispered, "Accio." The wands flew out of the wizard's pocket and into Harry's hand. He quickly slipped them under the invisibility cloak and handed them to Hermione, who took hers and pocketed Ron's. Harry didn't think anyone had noticed.

Then he turned his head to where Ginny had been a moment before and saw that she was gone. Lucius Malfoy had disappeared as well. This was too much for Harry. A red haze of anger seemed to cloud his vision. He threw off the invisibility cloak.

"Stupefy!" he shouted.

The Death Eater lifting Ron slumped over. Harry barely registered the sound Ron made as his breath was released in a whoosh. The other lackeys turned and sprang into action.

"Expelliarmus!" Harry bellowed at one, but he dodged the spell.

He staggered sideways as another spell hit him at unawares, but it was repelled in a white flash. Beside him, he had a vague sense of Hermione ducking and firing off a spell. Another lackey crumpled. Harry turned to face the Death Eater who had tried to blindside him.

"Impedimenta!"

The wizard began to move in slow motion. Harry then fired a binding spell at him, while Hermione took care of the remaining henchman.

They both rushed over to Ron and heaved the inert body off him. Harry noticed some cuts and bruises on the Death Eater's face, no doubt a result of an earlier encounter with Ron and Hermione. Ron groaned.

"Oh, Ron, are you all right?" Hermione gushed.

"I've been better," he replied, but at least his voice sounded strong. "About time you got here, Harry." Then he seemed to remember something. "But how did you know where to find Hermione and me? How did you even know to come after us?"

"No time to explain now," Harry said. "Can you stand?"

"Give me a minute."

They let him catch his breath and then helped him stagger to his feet. He leaned heavily on both Harry and Hermione, and Hermione put her arms around him. Harry could see how tightly she was holding Ron, and he looked away.

"No time for that now. Did anyone see where Ginny went?"

But no one had. Ron hadn't been in any condition to notice, while Harry's and Hermione's attention had been diverted elsewhere.

"She can't have gone out the way we came in," Hermione pointed out. "We'd have seen her pass."

"Malfoy has obviously taken her off somewhere. Last we saw, she was tied up." Harry didn't mention it to Ron and Hermione, but Snape seemed to have disappeared as well. He could only hope that Snape had followed Ginny and Malfoy and was doing whatever he could to stop Malfoy from carrying out his plan.

Harry looked towards the door where he'd seen Snape lurking earlier. It was open.

"This way," Harry said, pointing.

"Are you all right to walk, Ron?" asked Hermione.

"Yeah," he replied grimly. "I'll just have to be, won't I?"

Harry didn't bother with the invisibility cloak this time. There wasn't any way the three of them were going to fit under it, and he reckoned that he'd lost the element of surprise now, in any case. He picked it up off the floor where it had fallen, folded it up and put it in his rucksack. He'd had enough of skulking about. He'd been itching for a fight, and he'd had one, but it wasn't over yet. He would not rest until they'd got Ginny safely away from Malfoy.

They left through the other door and found themselves in another dim passage. It was completely quiet. Harry thought it was late at night, but he'd lost all notion of time when he'd dozed off earlier. At least there was no sign of anyone else.

They advanced, wands out, but met no one. The passage twisted several times and seemed to be leading steadily downwards. Harry wondered if this would lead them into the caves where Ron and Hermione had been captured. After a while, Harry could see a light ahead. The passage was coming to an end at last. He quickened his step. She had to be in there, she just had to.

He found her in heap in the middle of the floor where the passage ended at an underground chamber. There was an odd, burnt smell in the air. Malfoy was there as well, his back half turned towards Harry, standing over Ginny and removing his hand from his pocket.

"You're mine, Malfoy!" Harry yelled.

Malfoy turned and drew his wand, a slow smile spreading over his face. They began to move in a tight circle, their gazes locked. "Harry Potter," Malfoy said evilly. "It will be my pleasure to present you to the Dark Lord."

"Expelliarmus!"

Malfoy leapt aside with surprising agility. "Really, Potter, that's getting old. You mustn't be so predictable… CRUCIO!"

Harry relied on his Seeker's reflexes to dodge the curse. He trusted his talisman to turn it aside, but he'd been knocked out by the force of the blow last time that curse had hit him, and he couldn't afford that now.

As Harry landed squarely on his two feet again, he launched his next attack, aiming at the ground directly in front of Malfoy.

"Reducto!"

Once again Malfoy got out of the way, as a large hole was blown in the floor at his feet. "Child's play, Potter," he commented, laughing. "I was a Seeker in my day. Didn't you know? Draco comes by his talent honestly."

Harry resisted the impulse to make a sarcastic comment, even as he heard a bark of incredulous laughter from Ron. Both he and Hermione seemed to understand that this was an unofficial duel between Harry and Lucius Malfoy, and they were staying out of it for the moment. But Harry knew they'd be ready to jump to his side if the situation warranted.

Harry kept his gaze focused on Malfoy's wand tip. No doubt the older wizard wanted to distract Harry with his running commentary. He didn't bother dodging the next spell Malfoy sent his way. Although he didn't recognise the incantation--he thought it must be some sort of Dark curse--he was confident that it would be repelled by his talisman.

Harry, in his turn, sent the Conjunctivitus Curse at Malfoy, but once again, he was able to avoid the spell. His reflexes really were infuriating. This last movement brought him very close to where Ginny was lying on the floor. Harry saw his eyes dart down for a moment, but before Harry could cast a spell, Malfoy shouted, "Serpensortia!"

A great snake shot from the end of his wand and coiled itself on the floor. Harry's eyes widened in horror as it hissed threateningly at Ginny. Without thinking, Harry ordered the snake off, but this gave Malfoy the moment of distraction he needed.

"CRUCIO!"

This time Harry didn't have time to dodge. The spell hit him full force. There was a blinding flash, and he was knocked off his feet. He fought with all his might not to lose consciousness. He heard a voice shouting, as if from a distance, and realised it was Malfoy. Then he heard running feet and more shouting. He thought Ron and Hermione might have entered the fray.

He continued to fight the encroaching blackness until his vision cleared. Sitting up, he saw that two of Malfoy's henchmen had entered the room. Then his heart began to beat faster. One of them was Snape. Even as he recognised his former Potions master, Snape cast a spell in Ron's direction. It was wildly off target, and Harry suspected that he'd aimed badly on purpose. Ron turned on Snape now, raising his wand.

"RON, NO!" Harry shouted, jumping to his feet. Ron looked askance at Harry. "Don't curse him, Ron."

"Why not?" Hermione had just come up. Looking around, Harry saw that the other henchman had been dispatched, but Malfoy was gone again. Ginny, however, was still on the floor.

Harry met Snape's gaze. "What happened to Malfoy?" he asked, ignoring Hermione's question.

"He escaped."

"Where?"

"Most likely to the nearest safe Apparition point."

"And where would he be going?"

"You're not going after him, Potter!"

"What the hell is going on here?" demanded Ron. He was advancing on Snape, his wand at the ready. Snape raised his own wand, and this time he looked as if he was prepared to defend himself.

"I can't explain now," replied Harry quickly, hoping to defuse the situation. "Just trust me."

"But that's Macnair," Ron protested. "He tried to kill Buckbeak."

Harry shook his head. "I promise I'll explain it all later."

Snape pointed his wand towards the door. "Claustrum!" The door snapped shut, and the room seemed to be encased in a greenish light, which faded after a moment.

Ron looked alarmed now. "You're going to explain that?"

"Things aren't what they seem," Harry told him. "Just accept that for now. I can't say any more without endangering someone I'd rather not." He realised the words were true as he said them, but Harry refused to look at Snape, even though he could feel the older man's eyes upon him.

"You all need to get out of here now," Snape said sharply.

"And just how are we supposed to do that?" Ron asked stubbornly. "You've locked us in."

"I've only locked down the room to lessen the chances of another unfortunate interruption. I'll make you a Port Key that will send you all back to Hogwarts."

"And how do we know it won't send us all straight to You Know Who?"

"Ron!" Hermione broke in. She'd evidently decided to take Harry at his word.

Snape looked Ron in the eye. "You don't."

Harry wanted to laugh, as he saw Snape's eyes glint. He was sure the older man was enjoying this.

"What about Ginny?" Hermione asked, concerned.

"Let her rest. I think she needs that more than anything else. Madam Pomfrey can look at her when you get back to Hogwarts."

Hermione looked sharply at Snape, and Harry wondered if she wasn't working out who "Macnair" really was.

"Give me something I can use," Snape said impatiently. "Something big enough that you can each touch it at the same time."

Harry removed his rucksack. "Will this do?" he asked, holding it out.

Snape took it and began muttering a series of spells over it much as Hermione had done with the book. Had that happened just last night? It seemed like an eternity. Harry sincerely hoped that Snape had had more practice making Port Keys than Hermione. He wasn't prepared to take another ten mile hike.

"There," Snape said after a few moments. "It will activate in exactly five minutes. You need to get into position. I only need you to do one thing before you leave."

"What?" asked Harry.

"Stun me."

"What?"

"If I'm the only one left un-stunned in all this, don't you think that will look suspicious?"

"Come back to Hogwarts with us."

"That would look suspicious, as well. This disguise is too handy to give up now if I can help it."

Harry had to admit he was right. "You can do it, Ron," Harry said.

Ron began to grin. "Of course." He raised his wand.

"Wait!" cried Hermione. "You've locked down the room. How will anyone get you out of here?"

Snape nodded curtly and waved his wand. "Finite Incantatem!" The door sprang open once more, and the walls briefly glowed red. The he turned to Ron. "Go on then."

"Stupefy!" Snape keeled over. "Now, who have I just stunned?" asked Ron. "You're not going to have me believe that was Macnair."

"I'll tell you when we're back at school."

"Will I like the answer?"

"Yeah, I think you will."

Hermione was giving Harry a searching look. "Come on," she said. "We need to get into place."

They gathered around Ginny. Harry picked her up gently, and then they all held onto his rucksack and waited. It wasn't very long before Harry felt the familiar jerk behind his navel, and they were all whirling off into space.

*

They landed heavily in the Gryffindor common room. Harry purposely let himself fall backwards to spare Ginny, and the wind was knocked out of him as she landed on top of him. It was dark; even the fire had burned down to embers. Ron came over and lifted Ginny off Harry, while Hermione helped him to his feet.

Ron looked down at Ginny, frowning. "What have they done to her?"

"None of us knows, do we?" asked Hermione.

Harry shook his head. "She was sleeping when I found her this afternoon. It's all she wanted to do."

"How did you find her?" asked Ron.

"Yes, tell us what happened, Harry," added Hermione.

Harry saw Ron shift Ginny in his arms, getting a better hold on her, as she'd slipped a bit. They were all exhausted. "Perhaps we should save this for morning," Harry suggested.

Ron was shaking his head. "No, I want to know who I stunned."

"Well, sit down, at least," Hermione said. "Harry's right, we all need our rest."

Ron sat down on the nearest sofa, while the other took nearby armchairs. He kept a tight hold on his sister. "All right, who was that pretending to be Macnair?"

"It was Snape."

Ron gaped for a moment before he burst out laughing. "No, really, Harry," he said when he'd got control of himself. "Who was it?"

"I'm telling you, it was Snape."

"Well, how did he get himself to look like Macnair? Polyjuice?"

"I'd better start from the beginning…" And he told Ron and Hermione how he'd managed to find Ginny in the tower asleep and how Snape had come in and convinced Harry of his true identity.

"Snape," said Ron dreamily when Harry had finished. "I stunned Snape… That rates right up there with Draco the amazing bouncing ferret, that does." But then he stopped and looked concerned. "We should take her to Madam Pomfrey," he said, indicating Ginny.

"Snape said she needed sleep. She can do that here." Harry didn't want to admit it to Ron, but he was loath to let Ginny out of his sight now that they'd got her back. If she was sent to the hospital wing, he knew there was no way the matron would permit him to stay with Ginny. Here in Gryffindor Tower, with almost all of the students gone for the Christmas holiday, he had more of a chance. He was fairly sure the other sixth year girls had all gone home and Ginny's dormitory was empty but for her.

To Harry's surprise, Hermione agreed with him. "She'll sleep better in her own bed. We can take her to Madam Pomfrey tomorrow." Harry felt as if she'd read his mind. "Come on, Ron, we all need to get some sleep." She motioned with her head towards the girls' dormitory stairs. Harry remembered now that Lavender and Parvati had also gone home for the holiday. He had a sneaking suspicion that the seventh year boys' dormitory was going to remain empty tonight.

Harry stood and walked over to Ron. "You go on with Hermione. I'll take Ginny up to her room."

Ron looked sharply at Harry. "Just where are you planning on spending the night?"

Harry's face began to burn, and he was grateful it wouldn't show in the dark. He decided it was best not to lie about his intentions. "Same as you, Ron, with my girlfriend." Hermione emitted a squeak at that pronouncement. "You think anything's going to happen with her like that?"

"Nothing had better," Ron mumbled.

"Can you say as much?" Harry challenged. Although Ron had accepted the fact that Harry and his sister were a couple, it still seemed to Harry as if Ron had something of a double standard where Ginny was concerned.

"That's none of your business!"

"Then neither is what happens between Ginny and me."

"That's different! She's my sister!"

"What's your point, Ron? Hermione may not literally be my sister, but she might as well be."

Ron opened his mouth and shut it again. "Come on, Ron," Hermione broke in. "Let them be."

Hermione looked at Harry for a long moment, and he felt as is she could see straight into his heart. She knows, he thought to himself. She knows how I feel about Ginny. It was strange, because Harry himself had been unaware until this moment just how deep his feelings ran.

Ron allowed Harry to take Ginny into his arms, and he held her against him for a minute, letting himself sink under the weight of his emotions and revelling in it. Then he carried her up to her room. She hadn't stirred once that he could tell since she'd come back to Hogwarts, but he could feel the steady rise and fall of her chest against him, and he took heart in the simple fact of her breathing.

He hesitated on the threshold of her dormitory. The room was illuminated only by a pale shaft of moonlight coming through one of the windows. He had no idea which of the four-poster beds was Ginny's, but then he noticed from across the room a trunk, which was more battered than the others. He carried her to her bed and laid her down on it.

He looked down on her, noticing for the first time what she'd been wearing: her winter cloak over an old pair of jeans and a hand-knit jumper. But her clothes seemed unusually rumpled, even if she had been wearing them for the past two days. Her cloak was dirty and there was a large tear near the hem.

He thought she'd be more comfortable if he removed some of her garments, at least. He knew he didn't dare take them all off, but he eased her out of her cloak and shoes. She seemed to have another shirt on under her jumper, so he removed that too. Then he worked at the covers until he could tuck them around her.

He laid his glasses on her night table and stripped down to his T-shirt and boxers before climbing into bed with her. He gathered her close and kissed her brow before drifting off.

*

Harry awoke the next morning with the feeling of something weighing him down. He opened his eyes to blinding sunlight coming through the window. He'd forgotten to draw the hangings on the bed. Ginny was sprawled half across him, still oblivious. Her legs were tangled with his, and he had to remove a handful of her hair from his mouth. In spite of all he'd been through in the past two days, he felt strangely at peace.

It was difficult to tell, but he thought the morning must be far advanced. He'd probably slept through breakfast. His stomach rumbled, reminding him that he'd eaten nothing since the roadside lunch the previous day. There ought to still be something in his rucksack, and it ought to be edible. The food at Hogwarts was charmed so it wouldn't spoil.

He was reluctant to leave the warmth of Ginny's bed and lose this closeness, but he sat up carefully so as not to disturb her. It was probably best to let her sleep for as long as she wanted. He tentatively arched his back and twisted his neck. He ached in places he'd never known could ache, doubtless a result of walking so much the previous day. Then he tossed the covers aside and threw his legs over the side of the bed, reaching for his rucksack.

The sound of someone clearing her throat caused him to freeze. He squinted up and saw that a blur had entered the room.

"Put your glasses on, Harry," came Hermione's voice. He began to redden. Even though Hermione knew very well that they'd done nothing but sleep last night, he still felt as if he'd been caught doing something illicit.

Harry put his glasses on, and the blur resolved itself into Hermione and Ron, who had his mouth pressed into a fine line. He looked as if he were working hard at keeping it shut. He was also staring rather hard at Harry's state of undress, which, in Harry's opinion, wasn't really that bad. Harry resisted the temptation to pull the blankets off Ginny and show him that she was more or less fully clothed. He reached for his trousers instead, and Hermione obligingly turned her back while he put them on.

"Can I interest either of you in anything to eat, since we've slept through breakfast?" he offered, taking the sandwiches out of the rucksack.

Ron and Hermione both sat on the next bed, and they polished off the remaining sandwiches ravenously. When they'd finished Ginny still showed no signs of stirring. Hermione nodded in her direction. "What are we going to do about her? We're going to have to get her to the hospital wing somehow. And we're going to have to tell Dumbledore what happened."

"And just what is there to tell Dumbledore?" an irritated voice said from the doorway. "What is the meaning of all this?"

It was Professor McGonagall. Harry realised they were extremely fortunate that she hadn't turned up any earlier or even last night. Then he wondered what had taken her so long to check up on them. According to the story they'd fed her yesterday, Ginny was supposed to be feeling better. And then they'd gone missing for the remainder of the day.

"I'm shocked at this behaviour, quite frankly," Professor McGonagall was going on coldly. "You're Head Girl, Hermione. I expect you to set an example."

Harry thought it was a good idea for him to intervene before the head of Gryffindor house decided to take points, or worse, try to revoke Hermione's Head Girl status. "I'm sorry, Professor, this is all my fault. If you'd help us get Ginny to the hospital wing, I can explain everything, but I think Professor Dumbledore ought to hear this, as well."

Professor McGonagall pursed her lips into a fine line. "I'd like to hear the short version of events before I bother the Headmaster with this."

Harry swallowed. "Ginny wasn't ill yesterday, like we said she was. She was taken by Death Eaters. We only got back with her last night."

"I see," she said after staring hard at Harry for a long moment. Harry had expected her to explode, but she kept her voice low, and somehow that was almost worse than if she had shouted. "And would you like to explain why you decided to take matters into your own hands rather than go directly to the Headmaster with this information? Honestly, I know you three have been allowed a lot of latitude in the past, but to leave school and run off to who knows where…"

"I had an owl. It said not to tell anyone. They wanted me to come after her."

Professor McGonagall looked as if she had a good deal more to say, but before she could Hermione broke in. "Please, Professor. The hospital wing?"

"Yes, of course. But then the three of you are marching straight to the Headmaster."

She conjured a stretcher for Ginny and floated her along the corridors towards the hospital wing. Harry, Ron and Hermione followed glumly. They expected Dumbledore to understand once he knew the full story, but Harry wasn't as certain of his reaction this time. He still cringed at the memory of last Halloween.

When they arrived at the hospital wing they were all surprised to find Professor Dumbledore already there, as if he'd been expecting them. "I'll take care of this, if you don't mind, Minerva," he said, and Professor McGonagall withdrew. Then he turned to Harry, Ron and Hermione. "I'm sure you three have quite a bit to tell me, but I think Miss Weasley will have the most to tell us."

Madam Pomfrey had come up, and Ginny was floated into one of the pristine beds. The matron drew her wand and ran it over Ginny from head to toe, whispering spells over her. After a moment she said, "As far as I can tell, she's only asleep. Beyond complete exhaustion, I can't find anything wrong with her."

"Will it be safe to wake her up for a little while?" asked Dumbledore. "I'm afraid I need to know a few things only she can tell me."

Madam Pomfrey seemed to hesitate. "Just for a little while."

She turned back to Ginny and muttered something over her. Her eyelids fluttered for a moment and then opened. She stared at all of them, a surprised expression taking over her features. "Wh… what happened? Why am I in the hospital wing?"

Dumbledore looked very concerned. "Don't you remember ?"

Her brow furrowed as she concentrated for a moment. "Last I remember I was going to Hogsmeade…" She broke off and blushed as her eyes met Harry's. "I took your map and invisibility cloak. I'm sorry I didn't ask, but it was going to be a surprise…"

"It's all right, Ginny," Harry told her, moving closer and taking her hand. It was warm, and her grip was strong. "As long as we've got you back safe, it doesn't matter."

"What are you talking about? All I wanted to do was a bit of Christmas shopping. But… but I was sneaking out of Honeydukes, and… I don't know, I don't seem to remember anything that happened after that. Everything sort of went black."

Dumbledore drew his wand. "Will you permit me?"

Ginny nodded. Dumbledore touched his wand to her temple and muttered something Harry couldn't make out. After a few moments, Dumbledore frowned. "It's as I feared. She's had her memory modified. Several times."

"Harry, would you give it a rest for a few minutes? You're making me tired just watching you." Ron's voice intruded on Harry's thoughts, and he stopped pacing for a moment. "It's a good thing the floor's made of stone," Ron went on. "You'd have worn a hole through anything else."

Harry shrugged and leaned against the wall. He, Ron and Hermione were all standing in the corridor outside the hospital wing, where they'd been ever since Madam Pomfrey shooed them out. Harry no longer had a clear idea how they'd been waiting. He knew Dumbledore was still in there with Ginny trying to break through the Memory Charms.

It had to be a delicate operation. He could remember back to his fourth year when Voldemort had caught Bertha Jorkins and broken the Memory Charms Barty Crouch had placed on her. That had taken torture, Harry remembered suddenly, and Bertha Jorkins hadn't been fit for anything more than a quick death once the Dark Lord had finished with her. Harry shuddered. He knew Dumbledore wouldn't subject Ginny to torture, but what if the process was painful?

He began to pace once more. He didn't like this. He was back to feeling powerless. He'd have gladly taken any pain or fatigue Ginny might be experiencing onto himself at this point, but he knew that was impossible. There was nothing he could do but wait. And hope.

His mind turned now to Gilderoy Lockhart. He'd had his memory modified at his own hands, but Dumbledore hadn't seen fit to break that Memory Charm for him. Harry wondered if the headmaster hadn't simply treated that situation as the poetic justice.

The door to the hospital wing opened at last, and Dumbledore emerged. He looked more care-worn than usual. Harry started towards the door. "How is she?"

Dumbledore put a hand out to stop him. "She's sleeping now. You can see her later."

"Sleeping? Again? What happened to her to her that she wants to sleep all the time?" His voice was rising in desperation.

"Easy, Harry. At least I was able to break through the Memory Charm. I was able to learn what happened to her. Rest is what she needs most now, and it may well take a few days before she's feeling herself once more." He paused, and Harry looked at him expectantly. "All will become clear in good time, Harry. I'd like to see the three of you in my office, if you don't mind."

An hour later, Harry still hadn't found out what he most wanted to know. He was sitting in Dumbledore's office with Ron and Hermione, and they'd each been questioned closely about their recent adventures. A silence had now fallen on the room. Dumbledore was staring off into space, and Harry reckoned he was piecing together what had happened from their various accounts. Harry had to fight the urge to get up and pace around the room.

Suddenly, Dumbledore shook himself and seemed to come out of a trance. "There now," he said. "I believe I've learned all I can from the three of you and Miss Weasley."

"Can you tell us what happened to Ginny, sir?" Hermione asked, voicing aloud what the three of them most wanted to know.

"From what she told me, she only wanted to do some Christmas shopping, "Dumbledore began. "And as there was no official trip to Hogsmeade, she took matters into her own hands, as you discovered when you followed her. Ah, secret passages… I used to find them quite handy myself when I was a student, but I didn't know about this one then."

Harry stared at the headmaster, stunned. Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled back at him. "In my days as a student here, there was a tunnel that led directly to the Three Broomsticks. I believe it's caved in now. This was before Madam Rosmerta's time, of course, but there was quite a comely barmaid who…"

He seemed to remember whom he was addressing then and stopped. Ron was trying to hide a smirk, but Harry was impatient for him to get back to the point.

"Yes, well, where was I? Ah, yes, the Honeyduke's tunnel. "He hadn't seemed very surprised to learn of its existence when Harry had told him how they'd followed Ginny to Hogsmeade, and Harry wondered if Sirius or Remus might possibly have told him about it. "Miss Weasley took that tunnel to get to Hogsmeade, but she'd just managed to sneak out of Honeydukes when she felt something strike her from behind. A Stunner, no doubt, because she blacked out after that."

Hermione interrupted at this point. "But who knew she was going to Hogsmeade? She told me she was going, but she didn't want anyone else to know. From the sound of things, whoever took her was already there waiting for her."

"An excellent point, Miss Granger, and one which will require further reflection. Miss Weasley never saw who stunned her."

Harry remembered Snape mentioning a probable spy at Hogwarts. Could the spy have somehow managed to find out Ginny's plan and ambush her? Or had she been lured into Hogsmeade? And who might the spy be? Student? Staff? There was no way of knowing. Even with most of the students home on holiday, it wouldn't have prevented someone from setting Ginny up the day before. In fact, it might be the perfect cover. Whoever had set her up could easily claim to have been at home when she'd been taken. There was nothing to indicate that the person who had captured Ginny and the spy were one and the same.

"At any rate," Dumbledore went on, "when Miss Weasley woke up she was at Carreg Cennen, and Lucius Malfoy was there. He told her he wanted a very special Christmas gift to present to his master. One that only she could procure for him."

"But how did Lucius Malfoy find out that Ginny was able to make a talisman?" asked Harry. "Who else outside this room knew about that?"

"Unless Miss Weasley has told anyone else, no one, in theory."

"Ginny hardly even wants to admit she has a talent. It's not as if she goes around discussing it. Who else would she tell? She hasn't even told her parents."

"We've got a spy among them, as you discovered; they've obviously placed someone here. This is another matter, which will require further thought, I fear."

Harry wasn't quite ready to let the matter drop, though. "But spy or no, how did they find out? It's not as if Ginny would have told them. And how did they even know to ask her?"

"The answer to that, Harry, depends on when the Death Eaters learned you possessed a working talisman. Even if they'd only learned you had it just after Halloween, they'd have surmised it was the reason the curse in Diagon Alley was turned back. And where had you been staying? At the Burrow. That much would have been simple enough for them to discover. It was never kept a secret. It would have narrowed things down quite a bit."

"But just because Harry acquired it while he was staying at the Weasleys' doesn't mean that one of then necessarily made it for him," Hermione pointed out. Harry had actually received the necklace while he was still at Privet Drive, but he didn't feel any need to correct her on this point.

"No, it doesn't. But it's a place to start. And due to the family's financial circumstances, it's rather safe to draw the conclusion that if a Weasley gave Harry his talisman, it wasn't bought for him, but made for him."

Harry stole a glance at Ron, who looked none too happy about the reference to his family's poverty.

"Be all that as it may," Dumbledore continued, "Lucius Malfoy discovered that Miss Weasley is a Jewel-wright, and he demanded that she create a talisman for Voldemort. She refused at first, of course, so Malfoy had to use other means to wear her down. He couldn't use the Imperius Curse on her, because something like that must be made of one's own free will to work." Hermione was nodding in agreement. "And Cruciatus was out of the question, as well."

Harry was getting a very bad feeling about this. Snape had told him that Ginny had defied Malfoy from the time she'd arrived. He spoke up reluctantly "They must have found something they could use against her. Before Ron, Hermione and I tuned up, that is."

"Indeed. Ironically enough, they used an old Muggle trick on her to get her to co-operate. Sleep deprivation."

"But she was only there for about twenty-four hours," Hermione protested. "And Harry told us he found her asleep. That's enough for her to have been thoroughly tired out, but true sleep deprivation takes days."

"True enough, but you, Miss Granger, must have an idea how more time might be gained where there seemingly isn't any."

A look of comprehension dawned on her face, and Harry knew what he was hinting at, as well. "They used a Time Turner?" he asked.

"Yes. With a Time Turner Malfoy could have kept her awake for a solid week or more. Miss Weasley didn't really remember how long it was. When you've gone for long periods of time without sleep, time itself becomes blurred. And you become more open to suggestion. However, Miss Weasley showed more pluck than they expected her to. She held out against them. But then Ron and Hermione were found on the property, and suddenly Malfoy had a much better bargaining tool."

Ron visibly shuddered at the memory. "There's no need to go into that," Hermione said quickly. "We were all present for that."

"Indeed. And when he'd got Miss Weasley's agreement, he made off with her amidst the confusion."

"But it was only a matter of minutes between the time they disappeared and the time we found them again." Harry knew that if there was a Time Turner involved, then this made no difference in the matter. Malfoy had literally had all the time in the world at his disposal. He remembered seeing Malfoy's hand in his pocket as he'd entered the chamber where they'd duelled. Harry realised now that it was very likely that Malfoy had been pocketing the talisman Ginny had produced. It would also explain why he'd been so eager to abandon them when Harry proved to be a tougher opponent than expected. He'd already achieved his main goal.

Dumbledore was looking at Harry searchingly, and Harry felt as if the headmaster could read his thoughts. "I think it's very likely that Voldemort is now in possession of a talisman similar to yours, Harry. The only question now is, will it work?"

Harry didn't say anything to this. He felt as if it would.

Dumbledore didn't make any further comment on the matter, either. Instead he changed the subject a bit. "I only wish Miss Weasley had decided to take my advice and inform your parents of her ability," he said, nodding at Ron. "They will have to be informed of what has happened, and the truth is going to come out now."

Ron spoke up. "I can tell them."

"I'm afraid it's my duty to tell them, Ron. I shall be sending them an owl within the hour."

Harry realised this was their cue to leave. Dumbledore would need the time to compose the letter. He had no doubt that Mr and Mrs Weasley would turn up at Hogwarts before the day was over.

Harry walked aimlessly through the corridors after leaving Dumbledore's office. Ron and Hermione had gone back to Gryffindor Tower, but Harry hadn't been ready to. Not yet. He didn't pay attention to where he was going until he suddenly found himself in front of the door to the hospital wing. He knew where he belonged then: it was at Ginny's side.

He opened the door quietly and slipped through. The ward stretched out before him, the beds lined up in starched regiments. He could see Ginny lying in a bed by the window, bathed in a ray of sunlight, her hair spread out on the white pillowcase and her eyes closed. Harry started along the row of beds towards her.

"And where do you think you're going, young man?" barked Madam Pomfrey, accosting him as she came out of her office.

"I came to see Ginny."

"Miss Weasley is asleep. She mustn't be disturbed."

"I won't disturb her. I'll just sit with her."

The matron softened the slightest amount. "She's going to be that way for a long time yet. I'll send word when she wakes up."

For some reason this only alarmed Harry further. "She's going to be all right, isn't she?"

"She should make a full recovery, yes. She's young and strong, so there's no reason she shouldn't. But she needs time and rest for that."

"Let me sit with her," Harry said again. "Please."

For a moment it seemed as if the matron would protest further, but then she relented. "Go on with you, then."

Harry took a chair, set it next to Ginny's bed and sat down. For a long time he stared down at her pale face, the freckles, which dusted her cheeks, standing out in sharp contrast to her ashen skin. She lay perfectly still, the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest so slight it was barely perceptible, and Harry noted the deep shadows under her eyes.

There was a goblet on the bedside table. Picking it up, Harry could see the purple dregs of dreamless sleep potion pooled at the bottom.

He looked back at her and swallowed. He wanted to touch her face, to trace her cheekbones and lips with a finger. He wanted to take her in his arms and hold her close and tell her everything was going to be all right now that they were all safe here at school. He couldn't risk Madam Pomfrey's wrath by waking her, though, so he simply reached out and took her hand. It was warm clasped in his hand, and that was encouraging.

At some point, he began to talk to her quietly, even though he knew she couldn't hear him, and he felt a bit foolish about it. He wasn't even aware of everything he was saying to her at first, but once he'd started it was as if a dam had burst inside him. He found himself telling her all that had happened to him since Saturday. How worried he'd been to find her missing. How difficult it had been not to just go haring off without a plan. How frightened he'd been for her. How peaceful he'd felt waking up in her bed this morning. How in the middle of all this he'd realised how much he'd come to love her.

He knew he was taking the easy way out by telling her when she wasn't in a position to hear or respond. He told himself it was just practice for when he'd tell her to her face.

After a long time he heard voices coming along the corridor, voices and footsteps. An instant later the door burst open to admit a number of people, including Professor Dumbledore, Mr and Mrs Weasley, Fred and George. The blonde woman from Zonko's had followed, but she hung back in the doorway for the moment.

Madam Pomfrey came out of her office to see who else had dared disrupt the calm of her domain. "What is the meaning of this? Headmaster, please. You of all people know how much my patient needs her rest."

"Poppy, you have my assurance the Weasleys will not cause a disturbance," Dumbledore replied. "They only want to see their daughter for a bit."

Mrs Weasley, in the mean time, had spotted Harry and didn't allow a protesting Madam Pomfrey to stop her from going straight over to Ginny's bedside. Harry stood as she approached and soon found himself wrapped in a motherly embrace.

"Oh, Harry, dear, I don't know how we'll ever be able to thank you for this."

Harry felt himself begin to go red. "Honestly, Mrs Weasley, there's no need…"

"But both Ginny and Ron…" She choked a bit here and was unable to go on.

Harry opened his mouth to point out that that he hadn't done it alone, that if Professor Snape hadn't been there to make them a Port Key, they might still be looking for a way home. But then he remembered he couldn't say anything about Snape. Mr Weasley had approached and was shaking his hand now. "Anyone else would have done the same in my place," he mumbled, reddening even further.

The twins came up and clapped him rather hard on the back. "Good going, Harry!"

Mrs Weasley was hovering over Ginny now, tucking the blankets more tightly around her, even though it was completely unnecessary. Madam Pomfrey came over to make sure her charge wasn't being disturbed, and Mrs Weasley began to barrage her with questions about Ginny's condition.

Harry slipped to the side. He didn't want to be the centre of attention, and in any case he'd had a brainwave. All this had occurred in part because Ginny had decided to go Christmas shopping Perhaps she'd mentioned this excursion to one of her brothers when they'd come up to the school last Friday.

"George, can I have a word with you for a minute?" he asked quietly.

George turned to him. "Sure, Harry, what is it?"

"Did Ginny mention anything to either of you about coming into Hogsmeade when you were both here the other day? Something that might have been overheard?"

George thought for a moment. "No, can't say that she did. Not in my hearing anyway. Why do you ask?"

"Someone knew she was planning to go to Hogsmeade. They were there waiting for her according to what she told Dumbledore."

"Sorry, can't be of any more help than that."

"It's okay. Even if she had mentioned it, you probably wouldn't have noticed who was around then anyway." Harry had known it would be a long shot before he'd asked, and in any case, there'd been so many people in the Entrance Hall that day, it would have been impossible to narrow anything down based on that information.

"Given any thought to what you're going to get her?" He nodded towards the bed.

"Erm, no. Can't say that I've had any time for that."

"Right. Listen, my offer still stands. I can arrange for something nice."

Harry hesitated. "George, it's not that I don't trust you…"

George laughed. "But you don't trust me. I don't blame you one bit. I wouldn't trust me either. I promise, though, no funny stuff. If you want we can ask Pauline to help." Harry followed George's glance over to the blonde who was still hovering by the door.

"Well, in that case…"

"Come on, let's go ask her about it. She mentioned seeing some fancy trinkets in a shop down in London. Between you and me, I think she was hinting for something for herself…" And George led Harry towards the door to discuss the possibilities with Pauline.

*

Harry went to the hospital wing early on Christmas morning and was relieved to find it empty of extraneous Weasleys. Mr and Mrs Weasley were staying with Fred and George at Zonko's, but they'd spent a good deal of time at Ginny's bedside, meaning that Harry had had very few chances to spend time alone with her. He was also happy to see she was awake. She'd been spending more and more time awake over the past few days and was becoming increasingly restless at having to keep to her bed. Harry took this as a sign her strength was returning.

"Happy Christmas, Ginny!"

She scowled at him. "What's happy about it?"

"Perhaps Madam Pomfrey will let you get out of bed today."

"I hope so! She won't even let me get up to use loo! I swear if I see another bedpan…" She broke off and reddened while Harry started to laugh. "It's not funny."

"I don't suppose it is, but if you could just see your face right now."

"Humph!"

She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away. Harry sat down on the bed. "I've brought you your present, but I don't suppose you want it."

She rolled back over and faced him, a look of dismay replacing the embarrassed expression she'd had a moment before. "Oh, Harry, and I never had a chance to get you anything."

Harry shook his head and then looked straight into her eyes. "It's enough that we've got you back safely," he said quietly. "I don't need anything else."

He thought her eyes became a bit too bright at that, and he saw her swallow hard. But then she sat up and put out her hand. "Well, let's have it then."

Harry suddenly felt nervous. He hadn't actually seen what the small box in his pocket contained. It had arrived by owl yesterday already wrapped, and he hadn't wanted to undo the fancy wrapping. He knew there wasn't any way he'd get it put back properly if he opened it. He'd made his choice based on Pauline's description, and he could only hope that Ginny liked it.

He handed her the brightly wrapped box, and their fingers brushed. Harry held his breath while she undid the wrapping and opened the box.

"Oh, Harry, it's beautiful!" She held up a shiny gold bracelet with a small heart-shaped charm dangling from it. Harry tried to act as if he wasn't seeing it for the first time. At the same time, he let out the breath he'd been holding, relieved that she obviously liked her present and that it hadn't exploded when she'd opened it.

She was smiling at him, her eyes shining with joy. His heart turned over at the idea that he'd caused her to feel that way. "Aren't you going to put it on me?"

"Oh, erm, yeah, sure." He'd had no idea he was supposed to do that.

He took the bracelet from her, and it took him several attempts before he got the delicate clasp undone, but he finally managed to get it on her. He looked up and met her eyes again. She put her hands on either side of his face and drew him into a kiss. It began soft enough but did not remain so, as Harry's feelings for Ginny began to pour forth. They had to break it off, however, as the hospital wing wasn't exactly the ideal spot for this.

Ginny looked at him, dazed for a moment, before whispering, "Thank you, Harry. I really love it." She paused to catch her breath. "I still wish I'd had a chance to get you something. That's what I wanted to go to Hogsmeade for, you know."

It was the first time either of them had brought up their recent adventures. "Ginny, I know you told Professor Dumbledore that you never saw whoever it was who took you, but can you think of anything at all that might give us a clue as to who it could have been?"

She was shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I told Dumbledore everything I could. I never heard or saw a thing. I hardly felt anything. I was coming out of Honeydukes one minute and the next I'd blacked out. Next thing I knew I was in a strange room with Lucius Malfoy." She shuddered visibly.

"But who could have known you were going to Hogsmeade? Why did you even go to Hogsmeade? Your brothers offered to take care of my Christmas shopping for me. Why didn't you just ask them to help you?"

She looked at the bracelet sparkling on her wrist for a moment, and when she replied she seemed determined to ignore his outburst. "You mean those great gits helped pick this out?"

"George's girlfriend, actually."

"Anyway, they did offer to help me out. They sent me a note."

"What?"

"They sent me an owl on Saturday morning telling me to come to Hogsmeade."

Harry frowned. Something wasn't adding up here. "Dumbledore didn't mention that the other day," he said, as much to himself as to her.

"He didn't know about it. I didn't tell him."

"Why not?"

"There wasn't any point. It was legitimate."

"It couldn't have been! I asked George the other day if he'd known about your plans to go to Hogsmeade, and he didn't know a thing about it. And Ron, Hermione and I followed you into Hogsmeade, and we asked after you at Zonko's. If they'd expected you to drop by that day and you didn't, they would have mentioned it."

"I know what my own brother's handwriting looks like, Harry."

"Where is this note now?"

Ginny shrugged. "It might still be in my room. I dunno. It's not the sort of thing I'd normally save."

"It couldn't have been your brothers who sent it to you, Ginny," Harry insisted.

"Even if you did find the note, I don't know how you'd go about finding out who sent it. If it was a forgery, it was an extremely convincing one."

Harry didn't know what to reply to this. In any case, Madam Pomfrey came in with a breakfast tray for Ginny at that moment, giving Harry a very pointed look. Harry got up from Ginny's bed. "Suppose I should go down to breakfast," he mumbled.

"Can't you stay?" Ginny asked. "You can help me eat all this." There was easily enough food for two on the tray.

"You need to eat to get your strength back, young lady," pointed out Madam Pomfrey.

"I'm feeling much stronger, honestly," said Ginny, glaring at the matron. "Can't I at least get out of bed?" She'd taken Harry's hand and was holding it in a death grip to keep him there.

"We'll see a bit later. In the mean time, eat." Madam Pomfrey left without pronouncing judgement on Harry, and since Ginny still had hold of his hand, he decided he'd better stay.

"Have some toast," Ginny offered. "Help me eat all this. She's going to be back in half an hour with her damned bed pan, and I'll be buggered if I'm going to use it."

"I don't know how you're going to get out of it," Harry commented, before taking a bite of toast. "I mean eventually, you'll have to, erm… Right."

"You're going to help me get to the loo," Ginny said. Harry choked on his toast. "You don't have to come in with me," she hissed. "Just help me walk over to it. If I need help, that is. I might not, you know. Only Madam Pomfrey won't let me try. Here."

Ginny handed him her glass of orange juice to sip. Harry was having trouble getting his coughing under control. "If she hears that, she'll claim you're ill and try putting you to bed," Ginny said, nodding towards the matron's office. "Then we'll both be prisoners." She giggled. "Might be more fun that way, actually."

Harry had mixed feelings about that prospect. "Why don't I just keep visiting you until you're freed."

Ginny stuck out her tongue at him. "Spoil sport." And they both burst out laughing.

In the end, Ginny did have to lean on Harry to make the trek across the ward to the toilet. Harry had an arm around her waist and was helping her back to her bed, when Madam Pomfrey returned for the now empty breakfast tray. The matron was none too pleased with Ginny.

"If you're not careful, you're going to set your recovery back even further," she scolded.

Ginny stared stonily back. Then she surprised Harry by breaking away from him and stumbling the rest of the way to her bed by herself.

When Madam Pomfrey had left once more after a lot of grumbling about hard-headedness and a final few admonitions not to get out of bed again, Ginny turned back to Harry, her eyes overly bright. "I hate this," she grumbled. "I just want it to be over."

Harry thought she was talking about her weakened state. A tear escaped and ran down her cheek. Harry sat down with her and reached out to brush it away. Then he put his arms around her. He hadn't had a chance to do this since they'd brought her back from Wales, not while she was aware of it. He tightened his grip on her and rested his cheek on the top of her head.

"Ginny, I…" His voice sounded oddly raspy to him, and he swallowed before starting over. "I love you, Ginny."

He heard her catch her breath, but she didn't have time to respond. Voices could be heard coming in from the corridor. Ginny's family was coming back up to visit her. Harry pulled away from her, his face burning now. This was too new and private to share with anyone else. Ginny's eyes were still bright with unshed tears, but the anger and frustration that had burned in them before were gone now.

"Happy Christmas, Ginny," Harry whispered, as the door opened.

"It is," she said. "Now."

A/N: Huge thanks once more to my betas, especially Monique. They've assured me this isn't too high on the mushiness scale. I hope not…

Harry slowly drifted back to consciousness on the morning before winter term started. At first he wondered where he was as he opened his eyes and didn't recognise the familiar crimson of his bed hangings. Then he noticed a warm weight nestled against him and remembered…

Ginny had been released from the hospital wing the day before. "About time," she had grumbled at Madam Pomfrey. They'd sat up late in the common room last night, making up for lost time, as Ginny had put it. The temptation of moving things up to Ginny's empty dormitory room had been all too real, but something had stopped Harry short of actually suggesting it. The fear that she might slap him, combined with the fear that she might actually agree, might have had something to do with it. It had been pleasant enough to kiss her until they were both flushed and breathless. When it seemed as if stopping might be a good idea, neither had said a word, nor had they moved from the sofa. They'd simply lain down, snuggled together, and Ginny had fallen asleep. It had taken Harry a while longer before he'd succumbed at last, lulled by her even breathing.

Harry could see it was early. Ginny was still sleeping quietly, lying with her back to his chest. Harry's arm was tucked about her waist, and he tightened it around her, leaning forward to kiss the side of her neck. He'd discovered last night that if he nipped at that exact spot, she'd shiver and make the most delicious sound. He thought he could definitely get used to waking up with her.

But this was going to be their last chance for a while. The other students would be coming back to school today. So would the staff members who hadn't stayed on for the holiday. The Weasleys had returned home, as well, and Harry was relieved not to have Mrs Weasley casting so many knowing glances in his direction. They'd spent Christmas day at Hogwarts, attending the feast in the Great Hall. Madam Pomfrey had even got into the spirit, given Ginny a reprieve and allowed her to eat Christmas dinner with her family, although it had tired her out and she'd had to return to the hospital wing afterwards.

Ginny stirred against him, and he kissed her again. They'd have to think about getting up soon, but he was reluctant for this closeness to end. She stirred again, and her hair fell across her face. Harry smoothed it back with his hand, marvelling at its silkiness.

"Mmmm…." Ginny sighed, and her eyes fluttered open.

"Morning," Harry whispered against her ear. She jumped a bit, and he thought he felt her quiver. She turned in his arms, slowly working her way around to face him.

"Harry… What time is it?"

"Still early."

"Why didn't you wake me up and make me go sleep in my dormitory last night?"

Harry shrugged, thinking that if he'd done that, it would have been too tempting to stay with her there. He wasn't sure he wanted to admit that to her, and in the end they had spent the night together, even if quarters were more cramped here on the sofa than they would have been in her bed. "You were sleeping too peacefully, and I didn't want to bother you. Besides, it's nice like this, isn't it? Just the two of us?"

"We would have been more comfortable in my bed."

Harry's jaw dropped. Was she saying what he thought she was saying? She couldn't be, could she? No, she must have just meant exactly what she'd said and wasn't trying to insinuate anything beyond that. And yet there was something in the way she was looking at him… Her eyes seemed to be going darker. It was almost as if they were melting into him. He couldn't look away. Then it was as if an electric current passed through him, and he felt his body begin to respond. This was almost frightening in its intensity, but he didn't want to do anything to stop whatever it was.

Ginny was looking at him, bemused. Almost absently she touched his cheek with her fingertips. "You look so different without your glasses," she murmured, as if noticing for the first time. She was leaning closer. In the instant before their lips touched, Harry felt a tremor of pleasure pass through him. Then she was kissing him deeply, pressing herself against him, drawing him down to lie over her…

The sound of someone clearing his throat gave Harry a nasty shock, and he toppled onto the floor. Heart pounding, he looked up to see a blur that looked suspiciously like Ron standing in the stairwell. Harry flushed a dull red, as he realised Ron must have seen him stretched out over his sister, snogging her senseless.

"Have the two of you been going at it all night, then?"

Harry opened his mouth to protest, but Ginny cut him off. "Oh, and you're a fine one to talk, coming down the girls' stairs."

Harry reached for his glasses, which he'd left lying on an end table last night. By the time he'd put them on, Ron's ears had gone red, and he was standing rooted in place, his mouth working, but no sound coming out. "Just be careful, all right?" he managed at last, as he headed for his own dormitory.

"As careful as you're being then?" Ginny shot after him. He didn't reply to that; he simply continued up his own stairs. "Honestly, why does he have to be such a git about this?" she asked, turning to Harry, who was still sitting on the floor.

Harry shrugged. "Suppose he's not used to the idea yet."

"It's been almost four months! How long did it take for you to get used to the idea when he and Hermione got together?"

"I guess he's just got a thicker head than I do. To be honest, it was weird at first when they started going out, but with them, I think we all saw it coming, didn't we? Ron was the last one to work it out, but once he did… Anyway, it wasn't my place to say anything, was it?"

"It's not his, either."

"He is your brother."

"Exactly, he's my brother. He's not my mum!"

Harry stood up. "Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"Up to your room."

"Harry!" He thought her outrage was just a bit exaggerated.

"Not like that! I thought we could have a last look around for that note."

"Oh." She definitely sounded disappointed. Damn, why did he have to pick up on that? It wasn't doing anything for his heart-rate at the moment. "You know it's useless."

Harry reckoned she was right. He'd turned her dormitory upside down--more or less; there were certain places he didn't dare go through--looking for the note she'd been sent. "I thought you could check some of the places I didn't want to."

"Like what?"

"Well, some of the other girls left… their personal things lying about, and…"

"And you didn't want to snoop through their underwear?" she asked, raising a brow. She was enjoying this a bit too much, he thought.

"Would you rather I had?" he countered.

"Let's go. Not that we'll find anything," she added. "It's not as if I'm in the habit of leaving my notes lying about my classmates' lingerie, but if it'll set your mind at ease…"

And she was right. After they'd been though everything, there was still no sign of the note. "I suppose the house-elves threw it out when they came in to clean," Ginny sighed.

Harry couldn't help but agree that further search would be fruitless. It was frustrating though. How were they going to discover who had set her up with no clues to go on?

*

The Great Hall was full once again when Harry went down to breakfast on Monday morning. As he sat down at the Gryffindor table, flanked by Ron, Hermione and Ginny, he wondered how quickly news of their holiday adventures would make the rounds. The story wasn't anything he particularly wanted broadcast about, especially since Ginny wouldn't be happy about everyone knowing the reason behind her kidnapping. Her parents knew now, obviously, but the matter of her talent hadn't been discussed, at least not in his hearing, and he reckoned that if she were coming to terms with it, it was grudgingly so at best.

Then there was Draco Malfoy. Harry looked over to the Slytherin table where he could see his nemesis smirking at Pansy Parkinson. The father had been involved but had the son been as well? Harry didn't know. In the past he, Ron and Hermione had always been quick to lay blame at the Slytherin's feet, but they'd not always been right. Draco had certainly seen the talisman, but so had half the school. There was just no way of telling whether he'd been the one to lure Ginny into Hogsmeade. He hadn't been at Carreg Cennen, either, that Harry had seen, but that didn't mean anything. Even if he hadn't been directly involved, he might know something. But how much did he know, and would he be likely to spread rumours about the school? Harry supposed he would if he thought Ginny wouldn't like it, but then he wouldn't want to connect himself or his father with Voldemort, either. Malfoy looked over then, caught Harry's eye and sneered.

"What have we got to look forward to this morning?" Ron was asking Hermione.

"Honestly, Ron, you ought to know the time table by now," she replied, rolling her eyes.

Harry was sure Ron knew perfectly well they had Charms this morning, and he was merely needling Hermione.

"What about you, Ginny?" Harry asked, but Ginny didn't answer him. She was staring up towards the staff table, and Harry wasn't sure he liked the expression on her face. She was looking at someone with a mixture of fear and distaste, but from this distance, he couldn't tell who it was.

He nudged her. "Ginny, what's wrong?"

She jumped and seemed to come back to herself. "Oh, nothing, Harry," she replied, reddening.

Harry opened his mouth to say something more, but Ron interrupted him. "Come on, Harry, we're going to be late." He and Hermione were already standing, ready to head off to Charms. Harry looked from Ron back to Ginny.

"Go on, Harry, you don't want to be late," Ginny said, and she got up as well.

"I'll see you at lunch then," he called after her retreating back.

As he left the hall, he looked up towards the staff table, wondering which of the teachers had distracted her so. He felt as if he was missing something, something obvious, but it just wouldn't click in his mind. The teachers were rising to go to their first class, and Harry caught a glimpse of tiny Professor Flitwick before he disappeared behind the lager figures of Professor Grubbly-Plank and Viktor Krum.

"Harry, come on," Ron called again.

"All right, no reason to panic. Professor Flitwick hasn't even left for class yet."

But he still hurried to catch his friends up, putting Ginny's behaviour out of his mind for the moment.

*

Harry didn't see Ginny again that day until it was almost supper time. When he asked her where she'd been at lunch, she mumbled some excuse about the library. She didn't meet his gaze as she said it, but before he could question her further, she was tugging at his hand. "Come on, I'm starved. I missed lunch, you know." And he had no choice but to follow her.

But when they arrived in the Entrance Hall, the doors to the Great Hall were closed. They were too early for supper. A few other students, mostly first years, were milling about waiting for the doors to open. They descended the marble staircase to wait with the others, and Harry wondered once more at Ginny's behaviour. Something was going on with her, and he wanted to ask her what it was, but not in front of the other students. He thought it might be worth a visit to the fourth floor storage room so they could have a talk.

"Miss Weasley," a voice called.

Harry felt Ginny shrink behind him, as if she were trying to hide. Looking around, he saw Viktor Krum trying to get her attention. Why would she hide from their Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher? Then it clicked. He remembered her strange behaviour back in September when she'd said Krum was creepy and later denied having a problem with him. Something had changed today. Had something happened in Ginny's Defence Against the Dark Arts class? No, that wasn't right. She'd been acting oddly at breakfast, too, before she'd ever been in class. She'd been staring at Krum this morning.

"Miss Weasley." He'd come over to her now. "I believe this belongs to you." He was holding out a battered copy of The Dark Forces: a Guide to Self Protection. "You left class in such a hurry today you forgot your book."

When Ginny didn't react, Harry was obliged to take the book for her. "Thanks," he said, hoping Krum would move on.

"Is everything all right, Miss Weasley?" Krum asked, and he sounded genuinely concerned. "Do you need to go see Madam Pomfrey?"

Harry turned and was alarmed to see she'd gone white as a sheet. He thought she might be trembling. The hand he was holding had gone clammy and was gripping him quite hard.

"She'll be fine," Harry answered for her, although it was a blatant lie, and Krum didn't seem to buy it.

The doors to the Great Hall opened just then, and Harry was relieved when Krum moved on with the other students going in to supper. Harry pulled Ginny into a corner.

"What's got into you?" he hissed.

"Nothing," she replied, but it wasn't convincing. He'd noticed how she'd relaxed as soon as Krum moved on.

"Let's go," Harry said, and stared towards the marble staircase.

"No. I told you, I missed lunch. I'm starved."

"We'll nick something from the kitchens later. Right now, we're going somewhere for a private talk."

He dragged a protesting Ginny back up the stairs against the current of students coming down for supper. He heard Ron and Hermione call after him, but he ignored them. He didn't stop until they were standing outside the storage room. Ginny did not look pleased, but there was nothing he could do about that now.

"Just what do you think you're doing, dragging me through half the school like that?" she demanded as soon as they were inside.

Harry wasn't going to let her intimidate him. "There's something up with you and Krum, and I want to know what it is."

Her chin went up a notch. "Jealous?"

"Don't be ridiculous! You were scared to death of him down there, and I want to know why."

"Now who's being ridiculous? I wasn't scared."

Harry couldn't believe she would tell him such an obvious lie. She was staring daggers at him, daring him to call her on it. "Why won't you tell me? Come on, Ginny, it could be important."

"Because I don't know why, okay?" she practically wailed. "He just creeps me out, but I don't know why!"

"This isn't the first time you've said something like this," Harry said quietly. "Do you remember, back at the beginning of last term? After your first class with him?"

Ginny sank down on one of the broken sofas and nodded. "Yeah, I remember. Now." All the fight had gone out of her. "But I don't know why. It doesn't make sense. I just noticed him this morning at breakfast, and I felt, I dunno, weird. And up until then, I was fine."

"Do you remember when I asked you about what happened with Krum later that same day?" She thought for a moment, her brow furrowed. "You asked me to meet you in the common room," he prompted. "It was late."

"Yeah, and I told you nothing happened, didn't I? And nothing had…"

"You were convinced of it, you weren't lying like you did just now."

"But something did happen. I just don't know what he did."

She was massaging her temples, as if this would somehow get her brain to co-operate. Harry thought he'd worked out what happened now, at least in part. He sat down next to her and put an arm around her. She laid her head on his shoulder, and he kissed the top of it. "Tell me what happened in class that day. Everything you can remember."

"That's just it, Harry. Nothing out of the ordinary happened really. It was just a regular Defence Against the Darks Arts class. Well, we went over something ridiculously easy, but it was the first week of term. And then at the end of class, he said he needed to ask me something, except he never did. He just looked at me funny."

"What?" This didn't make sense. How could a look provoke such an extreme reaction?

Ginny crossed her arms over her chest and seemed to hug herself. Harry felt her shiver. "That's what I mean. I don't know what he did, but it was as if he were looking right through me. Like he could see everything. It was really odd…"

"And that was right at the end of class… And then later in the same day, you didn't remember it anymore. But now you do. Did you tell Dumbledore about this?"

"No!"

"Why not?"

"For one thing, it's only all coming back to me now, and for another, I didn't know it was important."

"Don't you see, Ginny? Krum must have done something to you, and then you were memory charmed."

"Yes, and now that Dumbledore lifted all those memory charms, I can recall it all now. But… I can remember Lucius Malfoy putting memory charms on me at that castle. I don't have any recollection of someone doing it back in September."

"Maybe whoever did it, did it on the sly somehow. But whatever Krum did to you has to be important. Why else would they have memory charmed you?"

"Yes, but what did he do?"

"I think we should go to Dumbledore with this."

"Why?"

"Because maybe he can tell us what's up with Krum. Maybe Krum is the spy…"

"It's not much to go on. It's a look really. Besides, why would Dumbledore hire Viktor Krum if he didn't trust him?"

"I'm not saying Dumbledore doesn't trust him. If he's the spy, he needs to keep Dumbledore's trust. You remember what happened my fourth year, don't you? Dumbledore thought he could trust Mad-Eye Moody, but it didn't turn out that he could."

"Only because it wasn't the real Mad-Eye Moody."

"Yes, and if there had been something to tip us off to that fact, a lot of things would be different. Voldemort might not have come back. A lot of people might still be alive. Cedric Diggory…" His voice had gone very quiet on this last, trailing off into silence. "So we have to say something," he began again after a moment. "We can't just sit on this information. It might be important. I've learned my lesson about overlooking things like this. I could have told him about that necklace a lot sooner than I did, too, because it was preventing me from feeling any pain in my scar."

"But nothing bad came of that."

"No, thank goodness, but it might have." Harry suddenly put his hand to his chest. "I've still got it on! I completely forgot to take it off when we came back from Wales!"

"What?"

"I put it on before we left, as an added protection. Dumbledore mentioned it might be a good idea to wear it outside Hogwarts, and since I reckoned we'd be meeting up with Death Eaters… Well, I suppose I got used to it, and I've still got on!" He reached up and took the talisman off. It had been so light on his neck that he barely noticed the difference with it gone.

Ginny looked at him, alarmed. "Do you think…"

"I don't know, but I'm going to have to tell Dumbledore about this. We might as well tell him all of it."

"All right, then. Let's get it over with."

The left Dumbledore's office a good while later. He'd listened to all they had to say, but offered little comment. He'd certainly been glad that Harry had told him about the necklace this time, but there had been little discernible reaction to their news about Viktor Krum. He'd simply run his fingers along the bridge of his nose under his glasses and said, "I see." When they'd finished, he'd thanked them, and they'd been dismissed.

"You'd think he'd have been happier about us coming to him with all that," Ginny commented dryly as they emerged from behind the stone gargoyle.

Harry hardly knew what to think. He suspected Dumbledore would be making use of his Pensieve as he tried to work out what was going on. Harry felt as if he could use a Pensieve of his own to get rid of some of the excess thoughts stampeding through his head. His head was beginning to pound with them, as a headache threatened.

"I just need something to eat," he told himself. He turned to Ginny, and asked, "Are you still hungry? We can go down to the kitchens."

Dobby squealed loudly when he saw Harry and Ginny come into the kitchens. There were still a good many of the other house-elves about busily cleaning up after supper, but it wasn't very long before Dobby had them both seated at the end of one of the long tables and had served them a feast. While Harry and Ginny were eating, Dobby hovered about, plainly itching to say something. Harry was on the verge of telling him to come out with it, when Dobby finally looked about furtively and said in a loud stage whisper, "I sees you got your Wheezy back."

Ginny giggled, while Harry replied, "Erm, yeah."

"Dobby was a good elf. Dobby didn't tell a soul, he didn't." Harry was reminded of a puppy just begging for praise.

"Good, Dobby. Well done."

"How is it you even know about what happened?" Ginny asked.

"Harry Potter is a great wizard, Miss. He comes to see Dobby before Christmas, and asks for food. But Dobby sees he's very worried." Dobby nodded solemnly. "So Dobby asks him what's the matter. And he tells Dobby he has to go find you, Miss, but not to tell anybody. And Dobby didn't breathe a word to anyone." He looked very proud of himself.

Ginny smiled at him, and he practically blushed. "Thank you, Dobby."

Dobby sidled closer to Harry. "If Dobby sees Harry Potter with this Wheezy in a supplies closet, Dobby won't say a word," he whispered conspiratorially.

"Dobby!" Harry cried, wishing they'd gone to supper after all and waited to see Dumbledore. "You're never going to catch me and Ginny in a supplies closet!"

"Why not?"

Ginny was trying very hard to contain her laughter, and her eyes were glinting impishly. "Yes, Harry, why not?"

"Because there's better places!" Harry grated, while Ginny continued to laugh. "Come on, I've got to get a start on my homework," Harry said, getting up.

"Harry Potter will bring his Wheezy to see Dobby any time."

"Uh, sure, Dobby," Harry replied, while thinking to himself, "Not bloody likely."

"Goodbye, Dobby," said Ginny.

When they were on their way back to Gryffindor Tower, Ginny asked, "What was all that about a supplies closet?" So Harry told her that when he went down to the kitchen for food the night she'd turned up missing, Dobby had recounted to him that he'd found Ron and Hermione snogging in a supplies closet.

"Honestly, sometimes I wonder what Hermione sees in my prat of a brother. Supplies closet…"

They gave the Fat Lady the password ("Semprini!") and climbed through the portrait hole. The common room was filled with the usual buzz of students laughing together and playing games. Some of them were even doing homework, although being the beginning of a new term, their numbers were small. Hermione and Ron were nowhere to be seen. Harry and Ginny both came to that conclusion together, for they looked at each other and said, "Supplies closet!" at the same time.

They found an unoccupied table in a relatively secluded corner of the common room. Harry began to take his books out of his bag, thinking with distaste that he'd have Divination the next day as he came across his copy of Unfogging the Future. Even minus the constant predictions of his untimely demise, Harry could have lived without Professor Trelawney's misty voice or Lavender and Parvati giggling over the tarot card reading they'd done for him. He couldn't believe they were still going on about it.

He shook himself as he realised that certain things that had happened over the Christmas holiday had been predicted by the cards. The Tower had turned up, and Ginny had been literally been found in a tower. The Lover's card--and he'd told her he was in love with her… What other cards had come up? He struggled to remember for a moment, but then he caught himself. It was all a load of bullocks.

"What are you thinking about?" Ginny had caught him seemingly staring into space and not starting his homework. She'd already filled several inches of parchment with a load of strange symbols.

"Nothing," he hedged, taking out his Charms homework.

They worked for a while in silence until Ron and Hermione came into the common room and plunked themselves down at the table with them.

"Why weren't you at supper?" Hermione asked immediately.

Harry exchanged a look with Ginny. If anyone was going to tell Ron and Hermione about Viktor Krum, Harry reckoned it was Ginny's place to do so. Ginny looked at Hermione uncomfortably, but she was saved from replying when Ron snorted. "Come on, Hermione, why do you think?"

Hermione and Ginny both rolled their eyes at him, and Ginny said, "I suppose I could ask you where you've been just now."

Hermione immediately started taking her books out. Harry wondered if he ought to say something. Hermione wasn't going to like the idea that Viktor Krum might be a spy, but then how much proof did they really have? It all seemed to hinge on a tenuous look that had made Ginny uncomfortable… That and a memory charm.

As he watched, he saw Hermione take out one particular book and set it closer to Ginny. It was the book she'd tried to get Ginny to read last autumn, the one about rare magical talents. He looked over at Ginny and got the impression she was pointedly ignoring it. He sighed. Some day she was going to have to come to terms with what she was. But then she was a Weasley, and that meant she was hard-headed. He put a hand in his pocket and felt for the talisman. He'd put it there earlier when he'd taken it off. Maybe he ought to have a look at that book. Maybe if he learned more about it, he could help her out. Somehow.

He reached for Rare Magical Talents and began paging through it. He could feel Ginny's eyes on him and imagined she was probably glaring, but he paid her no mind. He turned a few more pages, looking for the section on Jewel-wrights, but then he saw something that made him pause. The words Soul Searcher leapt off the page at him. He remembered Hermione explaining what that was, and suddenly he knew what Viktor Krum had done to Ginny. He'd been able to see into her heart, and that's how he'd learned she was a Jewel-wright.

For some reason, Harry was reluctant to bring up the subject of Viktor Krum in front of Ron and Hermione. In a way, Krum had been Hermione's first boyfriend. Well, no, that wasn't really it. It had never been that serious, and Hermione never had gone to Bulgaria, but she had been friends with him, and she'd defended him earlier in the year. Harry had a feeling the news that Krum was very likely a spy would be upsetting to her, especially when Ron agreed, as he was all too likely to, with Harry's conclusion, so he didn't bring the matter up that evening. He told himself the common room was too crowded, and this wasn't a subject that ought to be discussed where something could be overheard.

The following morning at breakfast, Harry couldn't stop himself from looking up at the head table. Krum wasn't there, but Harry reckoned he either could have eaten earlier or simply hadn't turned up yet.

At lunch, Ginny nudged him and looked pointedly at the head table. "Where's Krum?" she whispered.

Harry shrugged. "He wasn't at breakfast, either. Do you suppose…" He trailed off. There were too many others about to discuss this openly.

"Looks like it," said Ginny.

"Looks like what?" asked Ron.

"We'll tell you later," said Harry. "After supper, in that storage room?"

"Sounds serious."

"It is, and it has to be kept quiet, all right?"

Hermione, who was sitting with Ron and had heard everything, nodded.

That evening, when they were all seated in broken-down sofas, Harry waded right in. "Did either of you notice that Krum wasn't at any of the meals today?"

Ron and Hermione looked blankly back. They'd obviously not paid any attention, not that they'd had any reason to.

"Well, he was missing, and I think I know why." He took a deep breath and looked apologetically at Hermione. "I think he's the spy the Death Eaters have planted at Hogwarts."

Ron raised his eyebrows at Harry. "What makes you think so?"

"Yes, what makes you think so, Harry?" Hermione said, but her tone was quite different from Ron's. She was staring at Harry, her eyes narrowed and glinting dangerously.

Harry launched into an explanation of why he and Ginny had missed supper the day before. Then Ginny described the strange feeling she'd had last September once more.

"Did you tell Dumbledore about this?" asked Hermione. "What did he say? Didn't he set you straight?"

"Yeah, we went and told him, and he didn't say a word one way or the other. But that's not all." Harry paused. "Last night I was looking in that book you had out of the library, Hermione. The one about rare talents. I think I know what he did to Ginny. He's a Soul Searcher."

Ginny gasped. This bit of information was new to her.

"It all fits," Harry went on. "He used his ability to determine that Ginny was a Jewel-wright, and he passed that on. Then they waited for their chance to grab her. I wonder…" He'd just been struck by another thought. "The attack in Hogsmeade. Maybe they wanted Ginny then, and not me."

Hermione was concentrating very hard on what Harry was saying. A line had formed between her brows. "It's possible," she said. "It all fits… but… I still can't believe it. He was always so nice to me!"

"Come on, Hermione," said Ron. "That doesn't mean he can't be a spy. He'd have to be a good actor to pull it off, wouldn't he? Just remember what school he went to."

"Yes, but that doesn't automatically make him evil," Hermione protested. "Why would Dumbledore have hired him if he were on the Death Eaters' side? If he really were a Death Eater, why would he have pursued me fourth year? I'm Muggle-born, after all."

"Like I said, he's a good actor. He could have used his ability to see if people were buying his act or not."

"I'm a good judge of character! I won't believe it of him without more proof than this!"

Ron coughed loudly, and Harry was sure he heard the word "Lockhart". Hermione glared at Ron.

"In any case," Harry interrupted before Hermione could protest further, "Dumbledore knows now. I expect he's been sacked. That's why he wasn't anywhere to be found today."

"I guess we'll find out for sure at our next Defence Against the Dark Arts class," said Ron. "This is a first, you know. All the other Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers we've had lasted into the third term."

Harry nodded, but for some reason, Ron's remark made him think of Barty Crouch, Jr, and that reminded him of a conversation he'd had with Viktor Krum back in his fourth year. "But if Krum is a Soul Searcher, he'd have known…" he mused aloud.

"He'd have known what?" asked Hermione.

Harry felt himself flush. "Erm, well, do you remember what Rita Skeeter was writing about you and me fourth year?" Hermione pursed her lips and nodded. "Krum actually asked me about that once. He asked me what was between us, and I said we were friends, of course. But if he's a Soul Searcher, why did he bother asking? Shouldn't he have known?"

"He must not have been trained yet. Something like that usually manifests itself in a person's late teens, but to use the ability properly requires training. I don't ever remember him looking at me strangely. If he had, he wouldn't have asked you about me, he'd have asked Ron." She went pink at this admission, in spite of the fact she and Ron had been going together for over a year and a half now. "I think he at least recognised that I didn't see him as a boyfriend, because when I told him I wouldn't come to Bulgaria to see him, he didn't raise a fuss. He seemed, well, resigned."

"Wait, what do you mean, he seemed resigned?" asked Ron.

"I told him to his face on the last day of term while we were waiting for the carriages."

Ron's jaw dropped, and for a moment he couldn't say a word. "But… but… You led me on that whole summer!" he burst out at last. "I don't know how many times I asked you if you were going to visit that git in Bulgaria, and you never answered…"

"Got you, didn't I?" Hermione looked rather smug. "You worked it out in the end, didn't you? By the time August was half gone, and you saw that my letters were still coming to you from England…"

Harry didn't say anything during this exchange. He was surprised. He'd always assumed she'd never gone because her parents had refused to take her. His own memories of that summer weren't very happy ones. He'd spent a good deal of time avoiding sleep because he kept having nightmares about the night Voldemort had returned. He'd had to remain at the Dursleys' until the last week in August, when Dumbledore had finally given him permission to visit the Burrow.

He could feel Ginny's eyes on him, and he wondered if she could sense the shadow that had come over him. How much had she been aware of what he'd gone through in the past? He'd never paid her very much attention then, but did that mean she'd ignored him? She used to have a crush on him, but he couldn't pinpoint a time when her feelings had changed. He simply hadn't taken notice. When had they changed? Even now he couldn't be certain of them. He'd told her he loved her, but she'd never said if those feelings were reciprocated.

"I still won't believe Krum was a spy," Hermione was saying.

"Dumbledore obviously does," said Ron. "He's sacked him."

"You don't know that for sure. You just think you do!"

Harry wished he could feel as confident as Hermione about Krum. He'd always thought Krum was a decent fellow, but the evidence all seemed to point to his being on the enemy's side.

*

"So who do you think we'll have for Defence Against the Dark Arts now?" Ron asked at breakfast the next day.

"Dunno," replied Harry, looking up at the staff table. Krum still wasn't there, but if he'd been replaced, the seventh year Gryffindors wouldn't find out who that replacement was until after lunch. Harry didn't see any new faces among the staff. Mundungus Fletcher caught him staring and scowled. Harry turned back to his porridge. He'd have a whole morning of Potions to endure, and he'd need his strength.

But when he arrived in the dungeons with Ron and Hermione, Harry discovered a knot of Slytherins all standing by door whispering about something. They shut up as soon as the Gryffindors arrived, and Harry wondered what was going on. He entered the classroom and immediately headed to his usual seat. He only looked up once he'd sat down, expecting to see the usual pickled creatures in their glass jars along with Mundungus Fletcher.

He was shocked to see a familiar head of greasy black hair. Snape's back was turned as wrote a list of ingredients on the blackboard. Harry nudged Ron and pointed.

"I never thought I'd say this," Ron said slowly, "but I'm glad to see him back."

"Yes, but…" Harry began, and then he shut his mouth. He couldn't voice his thoughts out loud here. Snape's potion had worn off, and he'd made it back safely to Hogwarts. That much was obvious. But Harry had to wonder how he'd managed to get away from the Death Eaters without his cover being blown. If Macnair had disappeared from Lucius Malfoy's entourage only to have Snape turn up at Hogwarts at the same time, what was to stop the Death Eaters from putting two and two together? It would only take Draco Malfoy informing his father that his old Potions master was back…

The bell had rung and the Slytherins were filing into class now. Harry thought they looked as relieved as Ron to see Snape back on the job. All except Draco Malfoy. His face was unreadable. Harry had to wonder again just how much he knew about his father's activities. Even if Krum had been a spy, that didn't mean Malfoy couldn't be working for his father as well. It might be something as simple as relaying messages, but that could be enough to put Snape in danger. It may have been what led to Ginny's capture. He'd have to work out a way of finding out how much Malfoy knew.

Snape turned from the blackboard and faced the class. Harry tried to catch his eye to see if the Potions master would betray anything in his expression, but Snape's glance passed on by. It was just as well, Harry realised. Snape couldn't afford to let on to anyone that he'd had anything to do with Harry over Christmas.

Snape addressed the class without smiling. "Good morning. I trust you all missed me as much as I missed you. As I'm sure you're all aware, your NEWTs are coming up at the end of the year, and that means we're going to have to work twice as hard to make up for all the ground you've no doubt lost while that idiot Fletcher was teaching you." Everyone seemed to sink into his seat a little at that thought. Snape reached for a stack of parchment on his desk. "We're going to start off with a little test to see just how much we'll have to cover in the coming terms."

He began to distribute the parchment. As he passed their table, Harry looked pointedly up at him. His face remained impassive for a moment before taking on its customary sneer. Harry knew that was the only reaction he was going to get out of Snape.

"See me after class, Weasley," Snape muttered in a barely audible voice before moving on. Ron met Harry's glance and shrugged. Then they both turned to their test papers.

Harry and Hermione hung back after class and waited for Ron, who appeared five minutes later looking unhappy. "I don't believe it! The slimy git gave me detention!"

"What!" exclaimed Harry at the same time as Hermione said, "But you didn't do anything!"

Ron looked around him to make sure the corridor was deserted before explaining. "It's to do with the incident over Christmas. You know, where I stunned him?"

"He can't give you a detention for that!" said Harry. "You weren't at school, and he wasn't acting as our teacher."

"And he asked you to do it!" added Hermione.

"Doesn't matter. He said he'd have expected Longbottom to do a better job stunning him. Said we're at war, and I'd need to do a better job defending myself if I expected to come out alive. I almost wish we still had Fletcher."

Unfortunately, Ron got his wish. When they arrived at lunch, Ginny resignedly informed them that Mundungus Fletcher had taken over for Krum in Defence Against the Dark Arts.

"Well, that's just great," groaned Ron. "This day can't get any worse, can it?"

As things turned out, it could and did. They arrived at Defence Against the Dark Arts to discover that, whatever Snape thought of Mundungus Fletcher's Potions abilities, he'd obviously made a comment or two about the Defence Against the Dark Arts curriculum.

"I've been informed," Fletcher announced to the class, "that you're woefully behind in your stunning spells."

He divided the Gryffindors into pairs, and they spent the entire class practising. Harry's head was pounding by the time the bell rang. He'd hit his head on a desk the last time he was stunned. He couldn't help but think Ron had quite a good handle on the spell after all.

*

Ron's detention was set for the following Friday evening. At fifteen minutes to eight, he was ready to head down to the dungeons, when Harry pulled him aside. "See what you can find out," he whispered.

"Like what?" asked Ron. "What do you mean?"

"Only that Snape didn't really have a good reason to give you detention."

"He didn't need one. This is Snape we're talking about here, not Professor Flitwick."

"So maybe he has another reason to give you detention. Maybe he has something important to pass on."

Ron's expression clearly said that he thought Harry had gone mental. "Harry, this is Snape. He isn't about to tell me anything. He didn't call me down there to play spy games. The only reason he gave me detention is because he can. He was looking for excuses. He went a whole term without punishing Gryffindors. He's got to make up for lost time. Anyway what would I ask him?"

Harry considered. It was probably better if they had something specific to ask. "Well, what about Malfoy?"

"What about him?"

"His dad was behind those Death Eaters making off with Ginny. Do you think Draco knows anything about that."

"Maybe, but how would Snape know about it if he does?"

"He might. He may have seen Draco at that castle in Wales, or he may have been to Malfoy Manor as Macnair."

"But from everything he told you, he didn't know who the spy at Hogwarts was. He didn't even know there was one, did he? And besides, I thought we'd worked out who the spy was already."

Harry glanced over at the table where Hermione and Ginny had their heads together over something. "Hermione's not convinced. She's usually right about things like this, you know." Harry dropped his voice even further, even though they'd already been talking in undertones. "Even if Krum was spying, it doesn't mean there couldn't be more than one spy. You have to admit Malfoy is well placed to pass things on to his father."

"Even if Snape knows something, I don't know why he'd tell me about it."

"Just try him, all right?"

Ron went off grumbling that he'd be late, and he didn't return to Gryffindor Tower until well after midnight. Harry, Ginny and Hermione were waiting for him in the nearly deserted common room. Ron collapsed in the nearest armchair.

"Urgh! I never want to see another armadillo as long as I live!"

"Why?" asked Hermione. "What did he make you do?"

"Apparently the students' supply of armadillo bile was running low. I had to replenish it."

Hermione picked up one of Ron's hands and examined it. "You didn't do a very good job cleaning up, did you?"

"You spend the evening extracting armadillo bile. They were live when I started, mind you." Ron shuddered. "Anyway, you try cleaning up properly after that."

"It's quite simple, really. There are all sorts of scouring charms…"

"I didn't take my wand. Snape told me to leave it behind, as I wouldn't be needing it."

It sounded very much as if Snape had intended Ron to put in a true detention, and Harry began to suspect he'd been wrong about the potions master having any information to pass on. He really should have known better, but he asked anyway. "Did you get anything out of Snape?"

"It was weird. I didn't get anything much out of him, but it was like he was testing me."

"What did he say?"

"I sort of asked him quietly if he thought Draco Malfoy was on the same side as his father, and Snape just looked at me for the longest time. Like he was sizing me up. And then he said he was trying to work that out for himself."

"So he suspects him."

"Yeah, it sounds like he does."

"I wonder," said Hermione speculatively.

"What?" asked Ron.

"Well, he said he took a potion to make himself look like Macnair, and he didn't know if it was going to wear off or not, but he had to have more control of it than that. Maybe he took the antidote or something."

"Maybe he came back to catch the spy!" said Ron.

"I thought we decided it was Viktor Krum," said Ginny, earning herself a glare from Hermione, "and he came back so that Mundungus Fletcher could take over in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

"Well it sounds as if he's keeping an eye on Malfoy," Harry said.

"Would he tell us anything if he knew it?" asked Hermione.

Harry knew he should resign himself to the inevitable. "Probably not. But I'd still like to know how much Malfoy knows about his dad."

"Colin Creevey!" Ron said suddenly.

"What?"

"Colin Creevey was spying on Malfoy for the Quidditch team last autumn."

"I dunno, Ron. How are we going to ask Colin if he heard Malfoy mention anything about his dad without giving ourselves away?"

"We wouldn't have to," said Hermione. "We could just use the same methods Colin did to find out what Malfoy knows."

*

Time began to pass more quickly as Harry fell into the routine of term once more. Almost before he knew it, January was coming to an end, and the sloping grounds were covered in a thick layer of snow. Harry watched as lazy snowflakes drifted past the window of the History of Magic classroom, adding to the white blanket on the ground.

Inside, the seventh year Gryffindors had lapsed into their usual stupor as Professor Binns droned on about the exploits of Emerill the Extremely Boring. Hermione was actually pretending to take notes, or at least Harry thought so. He could hear her quill scratching away, at any rate, although he had no idea what she found so noteworthy.

The entire class jumped as one when a sudden knock at the door interrupted Professor Binns. "Yes," he called, sounding slightly perturbed. The door opened to reveal Ralph Chapman, a broad sixth-year who would have been a Beater on the Gryffindor house team if Quidditch matches hadn't been cancelled. Harry had barely ever heard him string two words together, but now he addressed the History of Magic professor. "I've been sent for Ron Weasley. He's to come to Professor McGonagall's office right away."

Ron exchanged an alarmed look with Harry and Hermione. It sounded very much as if he was going to be in trouble for something, but Harry had no idea what that might be. They'd all had so much work lately that none of them had had a chance to sneak out at night. In any case, if the infraction had been of that nature, surely Hermione would have been called in to see their head of house too.

Ron gave them both a shrug, collected his things and left. Harry looked over at Hermione, who was now wearing a worried and confused expression. She evidently had no more an idea than Harry what this was about.

"Now, where was I?" Professor Binns was consulting his notes. "Oh, yes, in 1365, Emerill…"

Harry stopped paying attention, even as he heard Hermione's quill begin scratching again, but now he had something more substantial to think about than the snow outside. When the bell rang at the end of class, Harry and Hermione jumped up as one and went straight for the door. It looked as if Hermione was just as eager as Harry to find Ron and ask him what Professor McGonagall had wanted.

Harry saw Hermione stuffing a parchment filled with the sort of odd symbols Ginny used when she did her Ancient Runes homework into her bag as she advanced. Harry thought that was very odd; Hermione had dropped Ancient Runes at the end of third year.

That thought was chased from Harry's mind as soon as they'd entered the corridor. Professor McGonagall was waiting there, her expression very grave. Harry thought her eyes looked suspiciously bright. "Harry, I need you to come with me, please."

Harry was now thoroughly confused. First Ron and now him, and he had no idea what any of this could be about.

Hermione looked alarmed. "Please, Professor…" she began, but McGonagall held up her hand. "You should go back to Gryffindor Tower, Miss Granger. I expect you'll find Mr Weasley there." Hermione looked as if she wanted to protest, but this was their head of house. "Mr Weasley will tell you what this is all about," Professor McGonagall added, her voice softer.

This seemed to placate Hermione. She started off towards Gryffindor Tower, but not without a look back at Harry.

"Professor McGonagall, something's happened, hasn't it?"

"Yes, Harry, it has. If you'll come with me…"

Harry followed, his heart sinking. For a moment he felt as he had during second year when the vast majority of the school had believed he was responsible for attacking his fellow students. But he hadn't done anything then, and he hadn't done anything now. In fact, nothing at all had happened that he knew of.

They descended to the first floor and Professor McGonagall's office, where Harry found a familiar black dog waiting for him. Harry's heart suddenly felt much lighter. "Sirius!" he cried, rushing forward.

Professor McGonagall remained in the doorway. "I'll leave the two of you to talk."

Sirius, meanwhile, had transformed into human form. "Harry!" He was smiling, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. He extended a hand, which Harry took, while Sirius clapped him on the shoulder. Then, without warning, his godfather pulled Harry into a tight embrace. When Sirius pulled back, Harry could see he looked quite bleak. He also noticed on Sirius' face several cuts and bruises in various stages of healing. He'd missed them before in his happiness to see his godfather.

Harry's heart plummeted. He remembered now this had to be more than a social call. "What's happened?"

"Sit down, Harry," Sirius said, gesturing towards a chair. He himself moved towards McGonagall's chair Harry saw he moved with a noticeable limp. Harry sat and waited for him to speak.

"There's no easy way to say this. I was involved in an attack, me and a few others."

A cold sense of foreboding came over Harry, and he shivered. He thought of the way Ron had been called out of class, but his mind refused to believe it. "But you're all right."

"I made it out alive. Not everyone did…"

"Who?" Harry demanded. He had a sickening feeling he knew now.

"Remus was seriously injured. He should make it through okay. Charlie Weasley didn't…"

Harry felt as if he'd been plunged into the icy lake. Sirius began explaining the circumstances, but Harry only listened with half an ear. He was still trying to wrap his mind around the idea that he'd never see Charlie's jolly face again, never hear his rich laugh. He found himself suddenly bombarded with images of Charlie: discussing Quidditch over supper at the Burrow, cheering at the World Cup, stunning the Hungarian Horntail, congratulating him after the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament…

He was having trouble with the concept, and he couldn't understand why. He'd already been through this when Hagrid had been killed. He felt strangely numb.

At some point, Sirius noticed that Harry wasn't listening and stopped telling the story. "Harry, are you going to be all right?"

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"It's a shock, I know. When someone so young…"

Harry was suddenly struck by a horrible thought. "When, Sirius? When did it happen?"

"Two days ago. We were in Kent, and we had word of a Death Eater cell…"

Harry's mind began to whirl again. Last he'd heard Sirius had been in Europe somewhere, and he'd assumed it meant that Voldemort was on the run. Harry cut his godfather off. "You were in Kent? I thought you were on the continent!"

"We had no luck tracking down Voldemort there. He kept slipping through our fingers. Then we got some new intelligence right after Christmas that he was back in England."

The words echoed through Harry's mind. Voldemort was back in England. He'd come back around Christmas… And Harry had been wearing the talisman during that time. Perhaps he'd missed a warning.

Some small rational part of his brain reminded him that Kent was too far away. He hadn't been wearing the necklace two days ago, and he hadn't felt a thing. Yet there had been an attack… He buried his head in his hands and massaged his temples. Perhaps Voldemort hadn't been present. His servants were certainly capable of killing, and they didn't need a direct order to do so.

But the grief and guilt were welling up inside him now and they threatened to overwhelm the rational part of Harry's mind. What if he had missed a warning? What if it had been something that might have saved Charlie's life? The backs of Harry's eyes began to sting, but he bit back the sob that was struggling to come out. He took his face out of his hands and met Sirius' concerned gaze.

"I want to go back to Gryffindor Tower now," Harry said.

"Harry…" Sirius began, and Harry could tell his godfather wasn't keen on the idea yet.

"I want to see Ron. And Ginny. Are they back at Gryffindor Tower yet?"

"Yes, they ought to be, but…"

"Then I want to go back and see them."

"Yes, of course."

Harry couldn't explain it to himself. He felt as if there could have been a way for him to have prevented this tragedy, and so he shouldn't want to face Charlie's family. And yet somehow he needed to witness their pain. Maybe it would break through the numbness that had once more settled over him.

Sirius rose from McGonagall's chair. "I won't be able to go back with you."

Harry nodded. Sirius' name still hadn't been formally cleared, and to most of the wizarding world he was still considered an escaped criminal.

"Harry, there's going to be a memorial in a few days' time here at Hogwarts. I'll be here until then, but I'll have to remain hidden."

Harry knew he ought to thank his godfather for coming to him with the bad news, for offering comfort even if he couldn't give it. There were a million things he'd like to be able to tell Sirius. He wondered what his godfather knew about what he'd done over Christmas. Harry could have told him the book the book he'd got for his birthday had turned out to be more useful than expected. He could have told Sirius about Ginny. But the words wouldn't come, and most of it seemed inappropriate and frivolous. Harry blinked hard, regretting the fact that communications between them had been reduced through circumstance and the only thing that brought them together was senseless tragedy.

"I guess I'll be going then," he said.

"Harry, if you need to talk, I'll be here until the memorial. Just ask Dumbledore about seeing Snuffles, and he'll arrange it, I'm sure."

Harry nodded. Sirius stepped forward to shake Harry's hand once more, but he again pulled his godson into a hug. When Sirius let go Harry noticed he was looking eye to eye with his godfather. Sirius was watching him gravely. "Don't bottle it up, Harry."

Harry pursed his lips to keep them from quivering. Then he turned and walked back to Gryffindor Tower alone. The corridors were deserted, and it seemed like they stretched on forever. His footsteps echoed loudly off the walls.

When he climbed through the portrait hole, all eyes turned towards him. It looked as if the news had spread already. The room fell strangely quiet as he walked through it. He'd seen at first glance that Ron, Ginny and Hermione weren't there. As he stepped forward a path seemed to open before him. He could see the others' faces more clearly now, looking on him with sympathy, and he felt a hot bubble of anger rise within him. Couldn't they all tell this was his fault? Were they all blind?

Somehow he knew Ron was up in their dormitory, and he climbed the stairs to the top of the tower. There was no sound coming from the room as he opened the door. Three pairs of red-rimmed eyes rose to watch him enter. His own eyes began to sting as he looked from one tear-stained face to the next.

It seemed to him as if the old familiar dormitory room had magically expanded and kept doing so as he crossed to where Ron, Hermione and Ginny were seated on Ron's bed. Hermione had an arm around Ron, and he'd rested his head against her shoulder, while she rubbed a soothing hand up and down his arm. Ginny was simply hugging herself.

Hermione let Ron go and stood to hug Harry briefly once he'd approached. Ron raised bleak eyes to Harry, and Harry had to bite his lip to stop it from trembling. Ron stood and hugged Harry then, and Harry had to screw up his eyes against the impending tears. This was painful, but Harry welcomed it.

He turned last to Ginny, afraid to see accusation in her eyes, but he was shocked at what he read in her gaze. Looking at her expression, he realised it must closely mirror his own. His brain only had an instant to register this thought, for she launched herself into his arms then. He held her tightly, as she clung to him, hot tears wetting the front of his school robes. As Ginny sobbed against him, he burrowed his face against her hair and allowed his own tears to fall at last.

Harry had no idea how long they stood thus, but at last Ginny quieted, and he loosened his embrace and looked up. They were alone now. Ron and Hermione had left the room. Harry looked down into Ginny's eyes again, not knowing what to say but feeling he ought to say something. She let out a long, shuddering sigh, and opened her mouth before he had a chance to utter a single word.

"Oh, Harry, this is all my fault."

His stomach twisted uncomfortably at the abject desperation in her tone.

"It's all my fault," Ginny repeated, her eyes welling with fresh tears.

"No, Ginny, don't say that."

"But it is."

Harry put his hands on her shoulders. "No, it isn't. It's no one's fault but Voldemort's." He knew he probably could have sounded more convincing, but that was only because he'd been entertaining similar thoughts to the ones she'd been voicing. She was looking at him wide-eyed and shaking her head, unbelieving.

Harry sighed. "Sit." Gently, he pushed her until she was seated on his bed. He sat down beside her and took her hands in his. "Ginny, your brother…" He swallowed before saying the name for the first time since he'd heard the news. "…Charlie knew what he was letting himself in for when he joined the Order. He knew it was going to be dangerous and that he might not come out of it alive. But he wouldn't've had it any other way. He was brave, you know he was. A true Gryffindor."

Harry had no idea where this was all coming from, but he hoped he could convince himself while he was at it. A lump was rapidly forming in his throat as his emotions threatened to overwhelm him once more. He swallowed hard and continued. "He knew this could happen, and yet he faced it anyway."

"Are you trying to blame this on Charlie?"

"No! Of course not! It's no one's fault but the Death Eater's who cast the killing curse on him!"

"Didn't Sirius tell you?"

"Tell me what?" Sirius may very well have told him, and he hadn't been listening.

"How it happened."

Harry shook his head.

"He saved your godfather, Harry. He jumped in front of Sirius so he wouldn't get hit."

"So you see? He was a true Gryffindor."

More tears were escaping, flowing silently now. Harry felt worse than ever. He was torn between feeling relief for Sirius and anger at Charlie's quick reflexes. Ginny swiped at her eyes, and Harry put his arms around her, rocking her gently. It was soothing to him as well.

"It's no good, Harry," she said after a while. "I can't get away from it."

"What?"

She pulled away from his embrace. "I could have saved him, Harry!" she wailed. "I could have made him a talisman. I could have made one for Bill. But I didn't. I was too selfish!"

Harry remembered Sirius stating in a letter that he'd run into both Bill and Charlie on the continent the previous autumn. Bill was still fighting for the Order somewhere. "Ginny…" he started to protest.

"No, it's true. I could have made him a talisman and saved his life, and instead I made one for Voldemort!"

Harry stared at her. She'd said the name, but he didn't think she'd even noticed.

"And all because I wanted to save myself the pain," she went on. "Well I haven't spared myself any pain, have I? It's just a different sort of pain!"

"Ginny, don't do this to yourself. What's done is done!"

She stood abruptly, her eyes flashing with anger. "No, it's not done! This isn't over by a long shot! You know Voldemort isn't going to stop!"

"Not unless someone stops him," Harry replied quietly, hoping she'd take the hint and calm down.

"Exactly!" She turned and started heading for the door.

"Wait!" Harry called after her in a panic. "Where do you think you're going?" He definitely didn't like the conclusions he'd been drawing based on her actions.

"To do what I can!"

He caught up to her and grabbed her wrist, drawing her back into the room. "Wait a minute, you can't go haring off like this!"

"Don't you tell me what I can and can't do, Harry Potter!"

Harry had no idea how this had escalated into a row, but it had. Ginny was staring daggers at him, and suddenly he felt as angry as she looked. He felt his face flush. "You could at least do me the courtesy of telling me what you're planning."

"Don't worry," she said sarcastically. "I'm not going to take your job away and challenge Voldemort."

"That's uncalled for!"

She went on, ignoring him. "Oh, no! Nothing so dramatic as that! But at least I can protect Bill."

"You're not considering making another talisman! Ginny, you're in a state. You're not in any condition…"

She crossed her arms over her chest. "And you're such an expert all of a sudden?"

"Ginny, you've just had a shock. Remember how long it took you to recover last time? And you've only just recovered. It looked to me like it took longer this time than it did last summer. What if it's worse this time?"

"That's a chance I'll have to take."

Harry wanted to curse the Weasley stubbornness, but some lucid part of his brain realised this wouldn't be wise. "No, you don't." He'd been struck by a sudden thought. Maybe he could kill two birds with one stone. He went to his bedside cabinet and rummaged until he'd found what he was looking for. "Here." He thrust the necklace at her. "Bill can have mine!"

"Harry, I made that for you!"

She wasn't going to look on this as a rejection of her, was she? "Ginny, it's nothing personal. I think it might be best if I don't keep this anymore. You know how it can block the pain in my scar. And I was wearing it over Christmas and forgot about it…"

"Oh, don't you start now! Anyway it doesn't matter. I made that for you. It won't work on anyone else. But if you don't appreciate it…"

A sob cut her off, and she turned, running into Ron, who had come in. "You realise we can hear you all the way down in the common room?"

Harry didn't reply. Ginny had already taken advantage of the interruption and run out. Harry clenched the necklace in his fist and pushed past Ron, leaving him to gape at an empty room.

Harry didn't even think about where he was going until he felt cold air stinging his cheeks and snow soaking into his trainers. Then he realised he'd found his way out onto the grounds without his cloak. It was already dark and a harsh wind was rising. He shivered, but he welcomed the discomfort. He kept walking, his mind completely blank until he came to the edge of the lake.

There he came to a halt and looked at the black water lapping at the ice-encrusted shore. He thought back over what had just happened up in the dormitory, trying to find the point at which things had degenerated. He had no idea what he'd done wrong, and he'd certainly never intended to upset Ginny further. None of them needed another reason to be upset.

He took his fist out of his pocket, and uncurled his fingers from around the necklace. The white gem glittered mockingly in the pale moonlight. In that instant he wished he'd never laid eyes on it. It seemed to stand for everything that was wrong at the moment. He looked from the necklace to the water and back again, strengthening his resolve. Then he closed his fingers over it again, raised his arm, and took a step back, intending to fling it has hard and as far as he could.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Harry. A day might come when you're going to need that."

The voice had interrupted him just before he could release the necklace. He dropped his arm and turned to face Dumbledore. The headmaster's face was cast mainly in shadow, causing the lines of care to appear even more deeply etched than usual. He laid a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Times like these are never easy, especially for the family. Sometimes grief makes people say things they don't mean and do things they don't intend."

Harry didn't reply. The hand on his shoulder pressed down more firmly. Dumbledore began to walk, steering Harry back towards the castle. "Madam Pomfrey would have my head if I let you stand out here without a cloak. If we hurry up we can just about make supper. There's a nice, warming Lancashire hot pot on the menu, if I'm not mistaken."

Harry didn't feel much like eating, but he followed Dumbledore back to the castle anyway.

*

The next few days passed in a blur. A sort of numbness had settled back over Harry, much like it had when Sirius first told him the news. He didn't seek out his godfather; he didn't much feel like seeking out anyone at all. He went through the motions of rising and going to class, but inside he just felt cold.

For some reason, Charlie's death seemed to be affecting Harry even more than Hagrid's had, and he was having trouble working out why this should be. He'd known Hagrid better; he'd spent more time with him, both as a student and as a friend; he'd been through this other times with other people he'd known.

The way Hagrid had died wasn't even that much different. He had been sent as an envoy to the giants during the summer after Harry's fourth year to convince the giants not to join forces with Voldemort. Not all of them had listened, however. Some of them may have already been secretly allied with the Dark Lord. In any case, when Hagrid had returned to them the following summer, he'd been ambushed. Harry had been back at the Dursleys' with no one to comfort him, really, when he'd received the news. Arrangements had been made for Harry to attend the funeral at Hogwarts, and he'd seen Ron, Hermione and Sirius there. They'd got through that time together and had sustained each other through letters for the rest of the summer.

Maybe Harry had just forgotten the feeling of emptiness with the passing of time. Maybe it was the fact that Charlie had been so much younger. Or maybe it was because Ginny wasn't speaking to him. By all evidence, she hadn't disappeared somewhere to make Bill a talisman, but Harry had barely seen her. She refused to remain in the same room with him. On the rare occasions he'd managed to catch her eye for a fleeting moment, she'd looked closed off, not only to him, but to everyone. He would have loved more than anything else to be able to cast a spell on her and take that guardedness away, but there was a wall between them now, and he didn't know how to go about dismantling it.

It was now Saturday afternoon, and he and Ron were putting on their smartest school robes for the memorial, which was going to be held in the Great Hall. Neither one of them was saying much. The Weasleys were due to arrive any time now, and the reunion promised to be a sombre one indeed. Harry wasn't particularly looking forward to it.

There was a soft knock on the door, followed by Hermione, who stuck her head into the room. "Are you almost ready? They're here." She'd put her hair up, and her Head Girl badge looked especially shiny. Ron nodded and moved towards the door.

"You two go on," said Harry. "I'll be along in a moment."

As much as he wanted this day to be over with, he was suddenly reluctant to go down and face all the Weasleys. He waited until what he reckoned was the last possible moment before descending the dormitory steps. He was almost at the bottom when he heard voices coming from the common room.

"Ginny, your father and I don't blame you in the least for any of this."

It was Mrs Weasley. Harry froze on the last step. She was trying to talk Ginny out of feeling guilty, just as he had. This probably wasn't a good conversation to interrupt. Harry had visions of Ginny taking one look at him and leaving the room.

"But I could have saved him, Mum!" Ginny protested.

"It was the killing curse that hit Charlie. Nothing turns back the killing curse. You know that." Mrs Weasley sounded resigned.

Harry could have kicked himself for not thinking of that point himself. If only he'd paid attention to Sirius, he might have been prepared with that information. But then he'd never anticipated Ginny's reaction to the whole situation.

"Harry's talisman turned back the Cruciatus Curse in Diagon Alley last summer," Ginny was arguing.

There was a pause, and Harry imagined Mrs Weasley looking surprised. "The Cruciatus Curse may be an unforgivable curse, and a very strong one, but nothing can turn back the killing curse."

"Harry did as a baby." Ginny seemed to be grasping at straws now.

"That wasn't because of a talisman. In any case, they're not completely infallible. If anything had happened to Charlie while he was working with the dragons, a talisman wouldn't have saved him. It wouldn't make him invincible."

Harry was rather amazed that Mrs Weasley could talk about this so calmly, but perhaps she'd already made her peace. Or perhaps she was making a Herculean effort to hold herself together for Ginny's sake. He leaned out from the stairwell to try to catch a glimpse of her face, but her back was turned towards him.

Ginny, on the other hand, was facing the stairs, and he didn't think she'd appreciate him eavesdropping. His insides squirmed with guilt at what he was doing, and he ducked back into the stairwell. He knew he shouldn't be listening in, but he couldn't stop himself. He didn't want to interrupt, certainly, but he didn't want to retreat further up the stairs, where he couldn't hear what they were saying. Part of him may have been longing to hear Ginny say something that would give him some hope that she'd be willing to speak to him at some point.

"But Bill…" Ginny was trying to protest.

"Ginny, it's not going to do you any good to exhaust yourself again like that. And did you stop to think that the more of these things you make, the greater the chance of others finding out about this? Will you be able to turn away everyone who is going to ask for your help? You'll drive yourself to the grave with exhaustion in no time." Her voice was getting shaky as if she was reaching the limit of her control. There was a pause, and when she continued, she sounded much more composed. "Ginny, I have lost one child already. I'm not prepared to lose any more."

"Exactly, Mum, that's why you have to let me help Bill."

"Life during dark times like these is never certain, but we have to trust Bill to do what he must and take care of himself."

Harry thought he heard Ginny emit a small sob at this. "That's so difficult to do, Mum."

"I know it is, dear. Sometimes it's the most difficult of all."

Harry ventured another glance into the common room and saw mother and daughter hugging. He retreated quickly as they broke apart.

"Where's Harry in all this?" he heard Mrs Weasley ask. "I haven't seen him."

"Why would you ask me about him?" Ginny's voice had taken on a distinct edge.

"Why, from the look of things at Christmas, I thought…"

"You thought wrong, Mum. I don't want to talk about it. Come on, Mum, we're going to be late."

Harry hung back in the stairwell, stunned, until he heard them clamber through the portrait hole. Then he forced himself to make his own way down to the Great Hall, wishing he'd minded his own business.

The Great Hall looked different than it usually did. All the tables had been removed, replaced by chairs, and the house banners had been replaced by black drapes. Harry could see immediately that the entire school was not in attendance, but he hadn't expected it to be. The teachers were all present, of course, many of them having taught Charlie in his years at Hogwarts. The sixth and seventh year Gryffindors were all there, as well as the entire Gryffindor Quidditch team, in support of Ron and Ginny. There were a few students from Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff: Harry recognised Ami, the girl Fred had been chatting up at the end of the previous term. Not a single Slytherin was there, but that was hardly surprising, and Harry was glad of it. There seemed to be a great many people Harry didn't know, but then he thought he recognised one of Charlie's friends from his first year when he'd got rid of Norbert for Hagrid.

The Weasley family were all seated, sombre-faced, in a semi-circle of chairs on the dais where the staff table normally stood. Harry could see Hermione sitting with Ron, Percy was with his wife Penelope, and George had brought Pauline. Fred and Bill had attended alone, while Ginny was seated between her parents. There was no place at her side for Harry.

A large black dog came up to him and licked his hand. It looked up at him pleadingly, whining a bit until Harry reached down and patted him. "Hello, Snuffles," he said.

Snuffles took Harry's sleeve in his mouth and jerked at it, leading him forward. Harry took the empty seat next to Ron, and immediately regretted doing so. He found himself facing Ginny across the dais, and she refused to meet his gaze. But it was too late to change places now. The memorial was beginning.

Dumbledore seemed to appear from nowhere and came to stand in the middle of the dais, temporarily blocking Harry's view of Ginny. "We have assembled here today to commemorate the life of Charles Weasley. To some of us he was family, to others a friend, student or colleague, but to all of us he will ever be a hero. He is not the first to fall, nor will he be the last, unfortunately, but we owe it to him, to ourselves and to the future to remember how he chose to live."

The headmaster stepped aside then, as one by one, people who had known Charlie well stepped forward and shared their memories: memories of dragon taming in Romania, of Hogsmeade weekends with friends, of Gryffindor Quidditch victories, of midnight wanderings around the halls of Hogwarts. Those who had spent time chasing Death Eaters with him on the continent told of how he always managed to keep everyone's spirits up when things looked grim. Bill stood the last and shared his childhood memories of growing up the eldest, always having to keep an eye on his younger brother, his "partner in crime", and laughing over the trouble that inevitably managed to find the two of them.

When he'd finished Dumbledore came forward again, unrolling a piece of parchment. "I was asked to share this with you," he said. "The author was unable to attend, unfortunately. We have heard about Charlie's life. Now we must all steel ourselves and face the manner in which he died. It, as much as anything else, tells us what sort of person Charlie chose to be."

Harry listened as Dumbledore began to read an account of Charlie's last mission, describing how they'd had intelligence about a group of Death Eaters operating in Kent, a group that could possibly lead them to Voldemort himself. The Death Eaters had been planning attacks on Muggles and Muggle-borns in the area, and Charlie's group had managed to locate the house they'd been using as their base of operations. Charlie's group had surrounded the house and watched it, before carefully planning an attack designed to surprise the enemy when the majority was present. The operation had begun well, but somehow one of the Death Eaters had managed to put out a call for reinforcements. Charlie and his colleagues were caught unawares, but all continued to fight valiantly, stunning the new arrivals, so that they too could be taken into custody. All but one, that is. That one had remained hidden, suddenly jumping out from under cover, sending a powerful Reductor Curse, which had caught one of their number in the explosion, before turning on the author of the letter with the killing curse. But for Charlie's jumping between the author and the spell, it would have been the author who had died that day.

Harry had long since realised that Sirius was the author of that parchment, but he'd noticed no other names had been mentioned. He reckoned that Remus Lupin had been the one caught by the Reductor Curse, and that was how he'd come to be badly injured. Harry was tempted to reach down and pat Snuffles, who had lain on the floor at Harry's feet at the beginning of the memorial, but Harry didn't want to give anything away. Even here at Hogwarts, it looked as if security was still of the utmost importance. Snuffles was now lying flat on the floor with his nose between his paws. Harry thought if a dog could cry, then Snuffles would be doing just that.

"The author of this parchment must remain anonymous," Dumbledore was concluding, but the Weasley family knows his identity."

Harry was surprised at what happened next. Dumbledore waved his wand, and two things happened. First, a tankard appeared floating on the air in front of him and everyone else in the hall. At the same time a haunting melody began to play upon unseen instruments, filling the hall and piercing Harry's heart.

Dumbledore took his tankard, while the others followed suit, and then he began to sing. Those that knew the song took it up as well. The Weasley family all seemed to be familiar with it; Harry could hear Ron attempting to follow in a croaky voice. Looking about, Harry also noticed Seamus Finnegan singing along. Harry did not know the words, so he merely listened, trying to pick them up.

Harry's eyes settled on Ginny. She was looking at the floor, tears quietly slipping down her cheeks, as she bravely tried to follow. He willed her to look up at him, to at least make eye contact and acknowledge his presence, but she continued to look steadily downwards. He wondered if she could sense he was watching her. It felt as if his heart was expanding in his chest until it broke. She never had told him she loved him, had she? Perhaps it was because she was being honest. His eyes began to sting, and he looked up at the ceiling, which reflected the low, grey clouds of the day outside.

"Joy be with you all," Harry thought bitterly. At the moment it felt as if he'd never again have anything to feel joyful about. The music ended, and everyone was raising his tankard. Harry did the same, remembering how he'd raised his goblet in memory of Cedric Diggory at the end of his fourth year. Cedric had been the first; other students were now gone from the school as well: Justin Finch-Fletchley, Hannah Abbot, others from other years he did not know. Along with everyone else, he drank deeply of a bitter ale that burned its way down to his stomach. He grimaced at the taste but welcomed it all the same. It went perfectly with how he felt.

The next hour or so passed in a whirl of people expressing their sympathies to the Weasley family, none of whom had managed to make it through the memorial dry-eyed. Harry had been among the first to approach Mr and Mrs Weasley. He hadn't really known what to say to either of them, but his words must have been appropriate enough, for Mrs Weasley had thrown herself on him, almost suffocating him. When she'd released him, she said, "Oh, Harry, you've become just like one of my own."

After that he'd felt rather obligated to stand with the rest of the family, although he found it increasingly uncomfortable. Snuffles had stayed with him the entire time, and Harry was grateful for his presence, although that, too, was adding to his discomfort.

He'd been thinking about how Sirius must feel to know he was still alive because someone else had sacrificed himself. That couldn't be easy; in fact Harry knew from experience that it wasn't and easy thing to face, because he'd faced the same reality himself at the end of his first year. Now that the full realisation of what his godfather must be going through had hit him, he regretted not asking to see Sirius over the preceding days. Harry was sure Sirius would be leaving soon, and the opportunity to talk to him was running short. In any case, they couldn't do it here.

Harry suddenly felt stifled by it all. He had to get away. He looked down to see Snuffles watching him as if he could read Harry's thoughts. Harry reached down and patted him, and then he allowed himself to melt back into the crowd and sidle towards the door. Snuffles followed.

Harry headed out onto the grounds without a cloak once more. They wouldn't be able to remain outdoors in any case, because they'd need a hiding place for Sirius to transform. Harry thought of Hagrid's old cabin and began walking in that direction.

The cabin had remained unoccupied since Hagrid's death. The new groundskeeper lived somewhere in the main castle, as did Professor Grubbly-Plank, the Care of Magical Creatures teacher. Care of Magical Creatures classes were still held outside the cabin, and occasionally Professor Grubbly-Plank would use it to temporarily house some of the smaller specimens studied in class. Harry was sure that he and Sirius could use the cabin without fear of interruption.

He unlocked the door with his wand and went in. It looked oddly unchanged from the time when Hagrid had lived in it. The only things missing seemed to be the hams hanging from the ceiling. The enormous bed with its bright quilt still stood in the corner, and there was the table near the fireplace, which, while cold, contained seemed to contain quite a few ashes. Harry remembered that Professor Grubbly-Plank had recently been keeping a cage of Fwoopers in here. They were tropical birds, and needed to be kept warm.

Snuffles followed Harry through the door and transformed as soon as it was closed again. "Harry, how have you been?" he asked, concerned.

Harry didn't feel as if he ought to burden Sirius any further, so he lied. "Fine."

Sirius looked at him sceptically, but did not comment. Instead he opted for a new topic. "I heard from Professor Dumbledore that you had quite an adventure over Christmas."

Harry nodded. That seemed a safe enough subject as long as he steered away from his feelings for Ginny. So he recounted the story, making an effort to keep his face and tone neutral.

When he'd finished, Sirius was shaking his head, amazed. "I don't suppose it would do any good to tell you to stay out of trouble."

Harry almost smiled at that. "You're taking this very hard, aren't you?" Sirius asked.

But Harry still didn't feel as if they should be talking about him. He'd spent too much time these past days thinking about how bad he'd been feeling, and he felt angry with himself for being so selfish. "I'll get over it. It can't be easy on you, what Charlie did."

Sirius sighed, and when he spoke, he sounded resigned. "No, it's not, but I've had to learn to deal with a lot of hard truths in my life. I'll manage with this, as well. But…"

He might have gone on, but there was a sudden noise outside the cabin. Someone was coming. Before Harry could even react, Sirius had changed back into a dog. In the next instant, Professor Grubbly-Plank was standing in the doorway, looking surprised.

"Potter, what are you doing here?" Then she looked around. "I thought I heard voices."

"Sorry, Professor I just had to get away from… things for a bit. I suppose you heard me talking to Snuffles here."

She looked sharply at Snuffles. "And just what was a dog doing at a memorial?"

Harry thought quickly. Why hadn't he realised himself how strange it would look for a dog to attend a memorial? "He belongs to the Weasleys. Professor Dumbledore insisted the entire family attend. And then, well, I thought he'd like to get out of the castle for a bit, in case, you know… And none of the family members could take him. And well, I didn't have my cloak, so I thought I'd warm up a bit in here…"

This seemed to be sufficient explanation for Professor Grubbly-Plank, for she replied, "I'm going to have to ask you to take him out of here, I'm afraid. I'm expecting to get some Diricawls in, and if they notice the scent of dog in here, they may decide to disappear on me. As it is, I'm going to have to clean in here."

"Sorry," Harry mumbled. "We'll just be off then. Come on, Snuffles."

They made their way back up to the castle then, while Professor Grubbly-Plank remained behind, and, Harry assumed, removed the traces of dog scent from the cabin. But Snuffles wouldn't enter the castle. He sat down on the steps and looked up at Harry with sad eyes. Harry realised he had to leave again. He wished now that they'd had more time to talk, but it wasn't to be. Harry bent down and hugged Snuffles about the neck before giving him a final pat and entering the castle alone.

A/N: The lyrics quoted (in italics in the text) are from a traditional Irish ballad entitled "The Parting Glass". I first heard this on the soundtrack to the film Waking Ned Devine, but I'm sure it's recorded in other places. I actually looked up the lyrics on a Shane MacGowan website.

Over the next week or so, Harry did his best to keep himself occupied so he wouldn't keep dwelling on various subjects, which he found painful to think about. His homework to up a good deal of his time but not enough. In the past, he'd had Quidditch to fill up his remaining free hours, but that had been cancelled.

There was, however, the matter of finding out how much Malfoy knew. Harry had put a great deal of thought into the matter before deciding just how he was going to go about it. Polyjuice Potion seemed like a bad idea. It took too long to make and only lasted an hour. He thought he'd have better luck sneaking into the Slytherin common room in his invisibility cloak. Perhaps he could manage to find Malfoy's dormitory, and if he was lucky, get a chance to go through Malfoy's things. He'd also remembered something else, and that's what had brought him to the Restricted Section of the library.

"Harry, are you in here?"

Harry was just about to take down a copy of Moste Potente Potions, when the voice interrupted him. "Yeah, Ron," he replied in a loud whisper, as Madam Pince was giving Ron the evil eye. Ron was beginning to look a bit happier, Harry thought. He'd been downright subdued ever since he'd heard the news of his brother's death, but perhaps he was beginning to accept it now.

"What are you doing in here?" asked Ron, coming over to him.

"Research," replied Harry, pulling out the volume.

Ron looked over at the title of the book. "What do you need that for? We haven't got any written assignments to do for Snape."

"I know. This is for something else. Here." He handed Ron the book. "You can help me." Maybe Ron would find it helpful to have something else to think about, too.

"What are we looking for?" Ron asked, as Harry selected more books.

Madam Pince was watching them sharply. They may have been seventh years, and as such, permitted to consult the books in the Restricted Section, but that didn't stop the librarian from disapproving.

"Books on potions," Harry replied.

He took a few more tomes, handed them to Ron, who groaned under their weight, and went to a table. When they were seated, Harry explained. "I don't think I mentioned this, but when we were in Wales, Snape hinted to me that he'd been taking some sort of potion to increase his hearing. I want to find out how to make it."

"What do you need that for?"

"To help me spy on Malfoy, find out what he knows."

"Why not just ask Snape about it?"

Harry couldn't believe Ron was suggesting that. "Do you honestly expect Snape to tell me?"

"He might. He didn't dock points from Gryffindor or anything when I asked him about Malfoy."

"I still don't think he'd want me getting involved." Harry scowled and did his best to imitate Snape's silky tones. "Potter, you've been crossing lines ever since your first year. I'm not about to play a part in your crossing any more."

"I suppose you're right," Ron conceded.

An hour later when Madam Pince chivvied them out of the library, they still hadn't found anything useful. Harry didn't protest. He'd managed to access the library after hours in the past, and he could do it again.

"Where's Hermione?" Harry asked, as they made their way back to Gryffindor Tower.

"Common room. She told me she had some sort of project to work on." A silence fell between them, and then Ron spoke again. "Harry, what's up between you and Ginny?"

Harry sighed. Ginny was still giving him the cold shoulder, and he preferred not to think about it. "You heard us, Ron, we had a fight."

Harry hoped the finality in his tone would put an end to it, but Ron persisted. "So? Hermione and I argue all the time. I'm probably going to regret telling you this, but sometimes the making up is the best part."

"I have no idea what I said or did to set her off, but I have, and until she decides to come round and tell me about it, I'm stuck, aren't I?"

Ron put a brotherly hand on Harry's shoulder and shook his head. "Harry, Harry, Harry…"

"You sound just like Lockhart, you know."

Ron looked horrified for a moment. "Listen, mate, in my experience…" Harry rolled his eyes at that. "…you sometimes just have to ask what's set them off. They think it's perfectly obvious, and you ought to be able to read their minds."

"Well, that's just stupid."

"Of course it is, but that's just how it goes."

"But I didn't do anything wrong. Besides, how am I supposed to ask her what she's mad over, if she won't even talk to me?"

"You've got to make her talk back."

"Easy for you to say. You're an expert at winding Hermione up."

Ron grinned. "Yeah, I am rather good at it. I've spent years practising, though."

"How's that going to help me with Ginny?"

"She's my sister. Don't you think I've picked up on a few ways to wind her up? Who do you think I practised on before I met Hermione?" Ron stopped and considered. "Thing with Ginny is, she's stubborn. You have to be persistent. Just keep going at it until she breaks. I warn you, it may take a while, but if you're persistent enough it should pay off in the end."

Something about this still seemed unfair to Harry. "Why should I be the one to make the first move? I didn't do anything wrong!"

Ron shook his head again. "You've got a lot to learn about women."

"And you're such an expert! I think I'll handle this my own way, thanks."

They'd arrived at the portrait of the Fat Lady. Ron, who had obviously decided it would be a good idea to let the matter drop, gave the password, and they climbed through into the Gryffindor Common Room. It was full of students, many of them hard at work on their assignments, while others played Gobstones or Exploding Snap. Harry spotted Hermione and Ginny seated at a table alone with their heads together over something. Ron had mentioned Hermione working on a project, but what could she possibly be doing that involved Ginny? Harry impatiently pushed thoughts of a female conspiracy out of his head. This was beginning to border on the ridiculous.

Harry had no pressing desire to go over and say hello. He didn't want to see Ginny look at him coldly, or even worse, get up and leave without a word. But Ron said, "Come on," before heading in the direction of the girls' table, and Harry felt obliged to follow.

Ron strode up to the table and took a seat next to Hermione, deliberately leaning across the books she'd spread out for consultation. Yes, Harry decided, he must be feeling better to be provoking Hermione like that. Ginny didn't even look up, so Harry remained standing.

"What are you doing?" Ron was asking, propping his chin on his hand and looking into Hermione's eyes.

"Ron, get out of the way," she said, irritated. "I told you I'm working on a project."

Harry looked down at the parchment Hermione had been writing on. "Hermione, I thought you dropped Ancient Runes after third year."

"Yes, but I'm having Ginny teach me this alphabet."

Harry looked a bit more closely. From what he could see in the space not occupied by Ron's elbow, it looked nothing like any alphabet he'd ever seen before, runic or otherwise. There was a something beautiful and flowing about the writing, but it was completely incomprehensible to him. He had the incongruous thought that it suited Ginny very well.

"Why do you want to learn this?" Harry asked.

"Come on," said Ron. "This is Hermione. She's not happy unless she's filling her head with all sorts of things none of the rest of us need to know."

Hermione looked hard at Ron. "You never know what might turn out to be important."

"What's important about a load of something that looks like a spider got drunk, fell in your ink bottle and crawled all over the page?"

"I don't know yet, Ron. At the beginning of term, Professor Vector mentioned this famous passage in Arithmancy. It's perfect no matter how you work it out, but it's in an ancient language, and no one knows what it means."

"So you just thought you'd try to work out what no other witch or wizard, including Ginny's Ancient Runes teacher, has ever been able to work out in the past? And for laughs?"

"Well, I thought it would be interesting to try."

"That's my girl. She just loves a challenge."

Harry kept stealing glances at Ginny during this exchange. She seemed to be looking anywhere but at him. How was he supposed to approach her when she so obviously did not want to be approached? Part of him wanted to walk away. It wasn't worth the heartache of having her ignore him. But if he really loved her, shouldn't he prove it by doing something?

"Hello, Ginny." It was the first thing he'd said to her in days.

She finally raised her eyes to his. There was something in her expression that told him she was definitely uncomfortable. "Hi," she whispered before looking away again.

Harry had an urge to reach out to her, take her chin in his hand and force her to look at him, but he couldn't do something like that in the common room in front of everybody. At least she'd responded to him. It was a start.

"Ginny," he tried again. "Why are you doing this?" He knew they shouldn't be discussing this in front of Ron and Hermione, but as long as they had an audience, perhaps she wouldn't freeze him out entirely.

Unfortunately, she must have been thinking along the same lines. "Not now, Harry," she hissed.

"When then?"

"I don't know."

He had no idea what else he could possibly say. If she wasn't willing to talk to him about this, then what could they do? He'd tried and been rejected. Again. It felt as if every time she turned away from him was yet another rejection. At the moment he didn't see much reason in subjecting himself to any more of it. He idly looked at her arm, which was lying on the table, quill still in her hand, the sleeve of her robe pushed back to that it wouldn't trail in the ink. She wasn't wearing the bracelet he'd given her at Christmas.

"Fine then," he said and turned away, feeling Ron and Hermione's eyes on him.

He went up to his dormitory, lay on his bed and drew the hangings. He felt utterly miserable and wished there was some way he could simply turn his feelings for her off. What good was loving her if she didn't return those feelings? The thought became more and more painful, like a weight crushing his chest until he couldn't breathe properly. This business of loving someone and not having her love you in return was absolutely horrible. It gave her a power over him that she could use against him to hurt him as much as she wanted, and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

His eyes were filling, but he swallowed hard and willed the tears away. This wasn't worth crying over, he told himself sternly. If he was going to feel anything, then let it be anger, the sort of anger she'd been turning on him. If she could freeze him out, then he could do the same to her.

A noise in the room, like something heavy falling onto the floor, gave him a start. That was odd. The dormitory had been empty, and he hadn't heard anyone else come in. He pulled the hangings on his bed aside and looked about. There, in the middle of the floor, was a book, and Harry knew without even glancing at the cover just which book it was.

"Oh no, you don't," he growled. "There's nothing you can tell me that's going to fix this. So just stay where you belong."

He picked up the book, tempted for a moment to look and see what it had to say. But then he strengthened his resolve. If Ginny was determined to be so stubborn there wasn't anything he could do to change that. She'd just proven it with her behaviour downstairs.

He opened his trunk and dug until he'd reached the very bottom. He was going to bury this book so deeply it wouldn't be able to get out and torment him with advice on patching things up. But while he rummaged about, he noticed another book, one he'd forgotten entirely. It was the one Hermione had given him for his birthday, all about Aurors' tricks for catching dark wizards.

Harry put Dr Zog's Practical Spells for Wizards back in his trunk and took out the other book. He might learn something useful for getting information out of Draco Malfoy in here. It was definitely more appealing then lying and moping about Ginny. He shook himself. No, he wasn't going to think about her anymore. If she wanted him, she knew where to find him. In the meantime, he was going to worry about catching Malfoy.

*

Harry read Aurors' Secrets For Getting the Jump On Dark Wizards every spare moment he got, but he still hadn't finished it by the following Monday. He'd also spent some more time in the library, aided by Ron, looking for the potion that enhanced hearing. Perhaps they were missing Hermione's prodigious research skills--she was still busy learning runes--because they'd been unable to turn it up so far.

Harry hastily grabbed the unfinished Auror book and put it in his bag. He'd planned on reading it in History of Magic class later in the day. He rationalised that the information contained in the book would be much more useful to him than the details of the International Warlock's Council of 1593. He snatched up his bag and hurried off to breakfast.

In Charms class the seventh years were practising some housekeeping charms, which required the classroom to be coated in dust so the Gryffindors could clean it up. Neville, apparently, was allergic to dust, and he began to sneeze periodically almost as soon as he entered the classroom. It didn't help matters that he managed to raise more dust than he eliminated with his incantations.

About the middle of the lesson, he was taken by a particularly violent fit, which sounded like a bomb going off, propelling him backwards onto the table where Harry had left his bag at the beginning of class. Several books fell onto the floor, including, to Harry's horror, Dr Zog's Practical Spells for Wizards, which landed open at Dean and Seamus' feet. Dean and Seamus sniggered over the illustration, which was now revealed. Harry's stomach plummeted, as he recognised it. He'd seen it last summer when he and Ron had caught Hermione looking at the book. They'd been afraid she'd seen it then, and there wasn't much hope she'd missed it this time. The entire class was looking by now. The boys were giving each other knowing looks, Ron's ears had gone red, Parvati and Lavender looked rather intrigued, while Hermione looked disapproving. Red faced, Harry lunged for the book and snatched it up, snapping it shut.

Harry straightened, the book in hand, wishing for a convenient rock to crawl under. There was dead silence in the classroom now but for two sounds: Neville suppressing more sneezes and the clicking of Professor Flitwick's shoes on the floor as he approached. Harry cringed and turned around to face him.

Normally the Charms professor was quite affable and easy going, but now his face was unreadable, as he held out his hand for the book. Harry handed it over without a word. The tiny professor looked at the title, and Harry thought he noticed a brief flicker of surprise in his teacher's eyes. But it was gone too quickly for him to be sure.

"See me after class, Potter," was all he said.

Harry spent the remainder of the class avoiding everyone else's gaze, especially those of the girls. When the bell rang, Ron threw him a sympathetic look, while Harry went over to Professor Flitwick's desk. He was certain he was in for a detention.

"Harry, I'm going to have to ask you not to bring this book to class again."

Harry was relieved but confused at the same time. "But that's just it, sir. I didn't. I mean, I did, but it wasn't on purpose. I had no idea it was even in my bag. It's just, well, that book has a strange tendency to keep turning up, and…"

"May I ask how you came by that book?"

Harry thought quickly. Best to tell as much of the truth as possible. "It was a birthday present."

"I see. Well, see that it remains up in your dormitory next time."

"That's where it was last I saw it. That's what I was trying to say. I didn't put it in my bag. I guess it just got there on its own…"

He trailed off, knowing he sounded ridiculous, but to his surprise, Professor Flitwick was taking it in stride. "Sometimes a good talking to helps. Give it a try. But I'm afraid if it turns up in my class again, I'll have to confiscate it."

Harry wondered whether Professor Flitwick was aiming his words at him, Harry, or the book. Harry took his book, and turned to go.

"Did you hear that?" he asked it as he put it into his bag, feeling stupid for telling it off. "Stay where I put you. I haven't got time to take you back to the dormitory now, so don't try anything funny. And when I do put you back, stay there!"

And he hurried off to catch up Ron and Hermione, hardly knowing how he was going to face Hermione, but knowing he must.

He was late to Herbology, earning him a sharp look from Professor Sprout. Parvati was staring at him speculatively, giving him the impression of a hungry cat about to pounce on a mouse. He glued his eyes to the floor and walked to the back of the greenhouse, where Ron and Hermione were collecting the dew from a giant sundew plant, while Professor Sprout explained the uses of the liquid. It was apparently useful in wart removal among other things. Hermione glared at Harry and moved off, as Harry joined them.

"Wonderful," Harry muttered, picking up a glass vial and beginning to knock droplets off the plant's leaves, being careful not to get his fingers stuck to the plant. If that happened, it would begin feeding on his fingers. "Now she isn't talking to me, either."

"Oh, I expect she'll get over it. What did Flitwick do to you?"

"Nothing. Just told me to keep that book put away. You sure Hermione won't be mad?"

"Nah, she only disapproves of you disrupting class, I think."

"Come on, Ron, after what she saw?"

"Well she knew about the book," Ron said casually.

Harry left his fingers on a leaf a bit too long. "What?" he hissed, painfully tearing his fingers away from the plant. "How did she find out about that?"

"I, erm, had to tell her. She wanted to know how I learned… well, never mind what…"

"Believe me, I don't want to know."

"…And so I had to tell her."

"Well did you mention that the book has a sense of humour?"

"We, erm, didn't quite get to that part. She was more interested in what else I'd learned you see…"

"That's more than I wanted to know, Ron. Do you think you could mention it to her?"

"I'll see what I can do."

The day didn't improve any for Harry when Parvati decided to sit with him at lunch. He did his best to ignore her, but it was difficult when she kept sliding closer to him on the bench. Ginny was sitting on the other end of the table glaring. Harry tried to catch her eye and look confused and apologetic, but she looked pointedly away.

Harry finished his lunch as quickly as he could, partly to get away from Parvati and partly to put the Dr Zog book back in his dormitory. As he got up from the Gryffindor table, he was disappointed to see that Ginny had already left.

As he passed the Slytherin table, Malfoy called out to him, "Hey Potter, got yourself a new girlfriend already? What happened, the free trial run out on the old one, and she started charging for her services?"

Harry froze on the spot, his fingers itching to draw his wand on Malfoy, while the rest of the Slytherin table erupted with laughter, but a glance up at the staff table quickly convinced him this wouldn't be a good idea. Professors Fletcher, McGonagall and Snape had all seemingly overheard the comment and were watching to see what Harry's reaction would be. He consoled himself in the fact that Ginny had already left the Great Hall and so had not heard what Malfoy had said. That, and Harry was sure he'd have the last laugh on Malfoy. It wouldn't be very long now.

"Guess you would know all about that, Malfoy. The only way you can get a girl to look at you is to offer her money, isn't it? Even the desperate ones." Harry cast a sidelong glance at Pansy Parkinson as he said this, remembering how Colin had been able to lure Pansy to the broom shed with the promise of a meeting with Malfoy. He was rewarded by an shriek of outrage from the pug-faced girl. Harry looked back at Malfoy. "See what I mean?" he asked sweetly before stalking off.

Up in his dormitory he discovered the book on Aurors in his trunk. He must have accidentally grabbed the wrong book this morning. But that couldn't be right, he thought. He'd picked up the right book, he was certain of it… unless the Dr Zog book could change its outward appearance as well. He wouldn't put it past this book. He shook his head.

"Just stay where I put you. And no more disguises!"

History of Magic was as boring as ever, but the class was a productive one for Harry. He pulled Ron aside after class.

"I've found the potion," he said.

"What potion?" asked Hermione. She'd apparently decided to talk to him again. Perhaps Ron had had a chance to explain what had happened in Charms class this morning after Harry had left the Great Hall at lunch.

Harry told Hermione how he'd been planning to find out what Malfoy knew. "And I've found the recipe." Harry held up the book Hermione had given him for his birthday. "It doesn't look that bad, actually. We won't even have to break into Snape's private stores. Most of it is herbal. We can get a lot of this out of the greenhouses."

"I don't know," said Hermione, leaning over to look at the list of ingredients. "Do you think Professor Sprout has anything as mundane as marigold?"

In their seven years at Hogwarts, none of them had ever worked with any in Herbology. "She might," said Ron. "If they needed it for potions or in the infirmary. Only if there wasn't any real reason to teach us about it, Sprout wouldn't have pointed it out."

"Neville might know," suggested Harry. Herbology was easily Neville's best subject.

"We can't ask him," said Ron. "He'd get suspicious."

"Well we're not going to find any growing wild this time of year."

"Would you recognise it if you saw it?" asked Hermione.

Harry and Ron exchanged a look before they were forced to admit they wouldn't.

"I know what it looks like," said Hermione. "Mum always has some in her garden. I'll try and spot some next Herbology class."

"Right," said Harry. "Next class we need to keep an eye out for wolf's claw, poke root, mace, coffee berries, marigold and blood root. That's six plants, but if we divide it up between us we might be all right."

"We're not going to try and nick all that under Professor Sprout's nose, are we?" asked Hermione.

"No," said Harry, "but we need to know where it all is so that when we come back we can help ourselves quickly."

"Next Herbology class isn't till Thursday."

"So we can go back Thursday night for the stuff," said Harry. "You and Ron ought to do it, actually."

"Why us?" asked Ron.

"Because if you're caught, you can pretend you were looking for a place to snog, as long as I don't come along. I'll get the rest of it from the students' store cupboards, and if everything goes all right, we can make it the same evening."

*

It was after midnight on Thursday when Harry, Ron and Hermione sneaked back up to Gryffindor Tower with their finished potion. Thanks to the Marauders' Map they'd been able to go about their business of pilfering ingredients and meeting in Moaning Myrtle's bathroom to actually brew the potion without Filch or Mrs Norris catching them.

The common room was empty at this time of night. Harry collapsed into the nearest armchair and drew a vial of sickly green liquid out of his pocket. It had smelled foul while they were brewing it--the brimstone in it had contributed to that--and he was sure it wouldn't taste much better.

"I'm going to try this tomorrow night," he said.

"Why don't we meet in the storage room after supper?" suggested Ron. "We can work out the last minute details then."

The following evening before heading to supper, Harry went up to his dormitory to slip the vial of potion into his pocket along with the Marauders' Map. He folded his invisibility cloak into as small a roll as possible and tucked it into his belt, where it would remain hidden under his school robes. Everything was ready for him to go spy on Malfoy later on.

During the meal, he did his best to ignore Parvati, who was trying to flirt with him again. She'd been chasing him all week, and Harry was getting tired of it. Subtlety wasn't one of Parvati's strong points, apparently, and her hands kept wandering alarmingly close to some rather embarrassing places.

Nearest Harry could work out, she'd decided that he and Ginny had split up, something he was beginning to suspect Ginny herself had come to believe, and he was now fair game. Put together with the sort of books she thought he liked to read, she must have drawn the conclusion he was looking for a girl to try out a few things with.

He shuddered and picked at his supper. Girls were the furthest thing from his mind at the moment. Having a girlfriend had turned out to be more trouble than it was worth. Ginny was sitting higher up the table, pretending not to notice what Parvati was doing. Harry had caught her sending Parvati looks of extreme dislike when she thought no one else was watching.

"You ready?" asked Ron, standing up.

"Yeah," said Harry, rising from his seat, relieved he could finally shake off Parvati.

"Oh, you're not leaving already!" she exclaimed, sounding disappointed.

"Sorry, I've got plans," Harry told her before leaving the Great Hall behind Ron and Hermione.

They were almost to the fourth floor storage room, when Hermione stopped short. "Oh no! I forgot the Omnioculars!"

"What?" said Harry. "We weren't going to use them, were we?"

"You never know, they could come in handy. I'll run back to Gryffindor Tower and get mine. I'll be right back."

Harry looked at Ron and shrugged. "Meet you at the storage room, then," he called after her retreating form.

Harry and Ron went to the storage room to wait for Hermione.

"Parvati seems to fancy you," Ron commented when they were both seated.

Harry let out his breath and ran a hand over his face. "Yeah. Wish she'd leave me alone."

"Maybe we can do something about that."

"Like what? Tell her to s…" Harry stopped as he saw that Ron had drawn his wand. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Sorry, mate, it's for your own good. STUPEFY!"

And Harry knew no more.

Harry slowly swam back to consciousness, the feeling that he was being watched causing a prickle along his spine. Something was tickling his nose, and he groggily reached up with a hand to push whatever it was away. His hand encountered something solid, and his eyes flew open to find a large pair of green eyes staring back into his. Last he remembered, Ron had stunned him. Where was Ron now? And what was Dobby doing here?

"Dobby! What the hell is going on here?"

"Dobby cannot say, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby is only here to make sure you come round."

"Yeah, but why? Where did that great git Ron get to?"

"Gone, sir. He's gone off with his lady. He told Dobby to leave you with yours." Dobby giggled.

"What?" Harry said, looking around. He was having trouble shaking off the grogginess that came with being stunned. Ron was seemingly able to cast quite an efficient Stunner, whatever Snape thought.

He could see that he was still in the storage room, but there were certain differences. Candles had been lit, casting a pale glow about the room. A table with a basket of food had come from somewhere, and there was a door Harry had never noticed before in one wall. Then his eye fell on Ginny, who was sitting on a sofa opposite him, a disgruntled expression on her face and her arms crossed over her chest. One foot was tapping impatiently, but Harry wasn't sure she even realised she was doing it. He quickly looked away from her.

"Dobby, did you set this up?"

"Oh no, sir. Dobby only helped. This was all your Wheezy's idea!" Dobby seemed delighted with the circumstances.

"He won't be my Wheezy much longer, once I get out of here," Harry muttered.

"Only if I don't get to him first." Ginny had evidently overheard.

"Sir has food on the table," said Dobby, pointing. "Everything he could want. Dobby must go now."

"Wait!" Harry cried but too late. Dobby had already disappeared with a loud crack.

Harry got up, went to the door that led into the corridor, and began to pound on it. "Are you out there, Ron?" he shouted, "because you'd bloody well better open the door!"

"It's no good," Ginny said. "They're gone."

"Wait a minute…" Harry felt in his pocket for his wand, but it wasn't there.

"If you're looking for your wand, Ron's got it. Mine too. I've already thought of that. We're stuck."

Harry gave the door a kick of frustration. "Well, if we make enough noise, someone's sure to come along and hear it and let us out."

Ginny was shaking her head. "Silencing Charm." Harry opened his mouth and closed it again. "Ron and Hermione planned it all out."

"Hermione was in on it too?"

"She was the one who asked me to meet her here, to work on the runes, you know. But when I got here she put the Full Body Bind on me and took my wand away. She released me just before they locked us in, but I saw her put the Silencing Charm on the room, and I've never heard whatever spell they used on the door before. It sounded really complicated. Then Dobby turned up with the food. There's nothing we can do until they decide to let us out of here."

Harry walked back over to his sofa and sat down facing her. "Any idea when that will be?"

"Ron said he'd come back and check on us in the morning, but if we haven't made things up by then…"

Harry stared at her, muttering a few choice words aimed at Ron under his breath. "Let me get this straight. Your brother, the one who couldn't stand the thought of us snogging, has locked us in here. For the night. And he planned this with the Head Girl, breaking who knows how many rules in the process."

Ginny was nodding silently. Harry was having trouble wrapping his mind around the concept. A month ago, he wouldn't have put it past Ginny to plan something like this. A month ago, he'd have been keen on the idea of being locked in with her all night. But they'd barely spoken to each other in the past month, and by all appearances it looked as if the entire school believed they'd split up.

Ginny was looking down at the floor now, apparently uncomfortable under Harry's gaze as he continued to stare at her. He wondered if she even wanted to make it up with him. He asked himself the same question and got an emphatic yes. He was miserable without her, but he had trouble working out whether she was just as miserable without him.

He sensed her growing discomfort with the situation, so he looked away. His eye settled on the door he had never seen before. "What's through there?" he asked, breaking the silence.

Ginny turned, looking in the direction he indicated. "It's only the loo. I already tried."

Harry went over to see for himself. "Wait, there's another door in here."

"It doesn't go anywhere." She sounded rather put out now. Harry soon discovered for himself that she was right, when he tried the door, found himself in a short passage, which led… back to the storage room.

"I supposed that's someone's idea of a joke," Harry commented, coming back to his sofa, and sitting with his arms crossed over his chest. It was going to be a long night from the looks of things. He soon got up again and began pacing around the room, trying to work off some of his excess energy. He had expected to be sneaking into the Slytherin dormitories by now to see what he could dig up on Malfoy, and instead he was cooped up in this room.

Ginny watched him pace, glaring. "You're anxious enough to get out of here, aren't you?" There was a note of challenge in her tone.

"Aren't you?" Harry shot back. "Sounds like you already tried to find your way out of here before I even came to."

Ginny continued to glare but offered no argument. There really wasn't anything she could do to gainsay him. The silence stretched out between them until Harry could stand it no longer. If they were going to get past this and go on together, one of them had to begin.

"Ginny, what happened?" he asked quietly.

She'd had enough time to stop glaring and become lost in her own thoughts. She looked up sharply now, her eyes coming back into focus. "What do you mean?" she asked warily.

"What happened to us? Why did you stop speaking to me? I don't even know what I did."

He saw her swallow, and a blush began creeping up her face. "Oh, Harry, I acted like such an idiot," she whispered, looking away.

Harry longed to take her in his arms then and there. He edged forward on the sofa, wanting to cross over and sit beside her and have her rest her head on his shoulder. If only she'd give him the slightest indication she'd welcome his affection. But there was something in her posture that told him she wasn't quite ready. Or perhaps she was afraid. He knew he wouldn't be able to take it if she pushed him away, so he stayed where he was, on his sofa. It was safer that way.

"I'm sorry I got so angry with you that day," she went on after a moment, her gaze fixed doggedly on the floor. Harry had the impression her words weren't coming easily. "You know, when we first heard. I don't know what came over me. I wasn't even angry with you. I realise that now."

Her words went straight to his heart, and he felt a spark of hope awaken within him. "Ginny, I don't think any of us were in our right minds that day. We were all in shock. I think we all went just a bit mad."

"But I completely overreacted…"

"I did, too, Ginny."

"…and I was completely horrible to you."

"It's okay, Ginny, really."

She looked up at him then, and he saw her lower lip was trembling. "Really?" she quavered.

The next thing Harry knew, the spark of hope had blossomed deep in his chest, and he'd crossed the distance between them, holding her close while she buried her head against his shoulder and cried quietly. After a while she looked back up at him and said shakily, "I didn't think you'd want any more to do with me after I was so horrible to you."

There were still tears on her cheeks, and Harry was tempted to kiss them away. "And that's why you kept avoiding me?"

He felt her nod against his shoulder. "I thought you'd prefer it that way after the way I acted."

"How could you think that? Do you know what I thought? I thought you didn't want to have anything more to do with me. Especially when you told your mum there wasn't anything going on between us."

"I never said that."

"You did. The day your family was here for Charlie's memorial. I was coming down from the dormitory, and I heard you." He wasn't about to admit to her he'd been eavesdropping, but it was safe to confess to this much. She and her mother had left the common room immediately afterwards.

She was shaking her head, confused. Didn't she remember this conversation? He did, all too clearly. "What did I say exactly?"

"I heard your mum ask where I was, and in reply you asked her why she was asking you specifically. She said she thought there was something going on from what she'd observed at Christmas, and you told her she was wrong."

"Harry, I said that because I thought I'd blown my chances with you. I didn't think…"

"Ginny, do you remember what I said to you at Christmas?" She caught her breath at his interruption. "I wasn't lying about that, Ginny. I do love you. I'm not going to let you go so easily. Unless.. unless you want me to."

He didn't know what he was going to do if she said that's what she wanted, but he would do as she asked. Somehow. He'd steel himself and do it. It seemed to take her forever to reply, and Harry fought off a rising sense of panic.

"No, I don't want you to," she said at last, and he let out the breath he'd been holding. They stared into each others' eyes for a while longer until Ginny reached up and touched his cheek. "I think this is where we kiss and make up," she said before she drew him in.

It should have been like kissing her for the first time. They were beginning again, after all, but there was no awkwardness. Harry tried to keep the idea that they were starting fresh in his mind as he began to fight a battle with his self-control. He tried very hard to forget they were shut in here for the night, but the thought kept coming back every time he pushed it aside, while his body demanded that he hold her more tightly and kiss her more deeply.

Ginny wasn't helping his resolve any. He felt her hands skim down his chest, causing his heart to pound all the harder. It was both a relief and a torment when she pulled away, frowning slightly. Her hands had discovered something under his robes that wasn't normally there.

"What's this," she asked, curious.

"My invisibility cloak," replied Harry catching his breath. "I'd forgotten I had it on me." He pulled the cloak out from under his robes and laid it aside.

"What do you have that for?"

"Before your brother decided it would be a good idea to meddle in my love life, I was planning on going down to the Slytherin dormitories and seeing if I could dig up anything interesting on Malfoy." He reached into his pocket and pulled out the vial of potion. "I even looked up how to make Auditory Enhancing Potion."

"You've been keeping busy."

"I've had to. It kept my mind off less pleasant things."

She kissed him briefly. "I'm sorry."

"You know, I really did think you wanted to break things off. You had the entire school believing it."

"I did? What about you with that idiot Parvati draped all over you at supper?"

"That was her idea! She was next to impossible to get rid of, you know."

"I'm teasing you, Harry. It couldn't have been more obvious. I thought you were going to crawl under the table to get away from her."

"I saw you watching. If looks could kill, Parvati wouldn't have made it past Monday."

Harry was glad they were talking again so easily. If only they'd done this sooner… That's what had led to this whole misunderstanding. He stopped laughing, and Ginny picked up on his change of mood. "What?"

"Ginny, promise me something. Promise me you won't let something like this happen again. Just tell me if you've got a problem with something. Don't run out on me. I won't laugh at you. This whole mess started because we stopped talking to each other, and I don't want something like that to happen to us again."

"All right, I can do that, but only if you promise me the same thing."

"Yes, of course."

Ginny was leaning in again, and it was difficult to resist the temptation of becoming lost in her kisses again. He took off his glasses this time so they wouldn't be in the way, and then his lips met hers. He felt her hands creep around his waist, while his own hands became tangled in her hair. His thoughts scattered, while his heart pounded loudly in his ears.

It was Ginny who pulled back an indeterminate amount of time later. By then the candles had burned low. "We should stop… shouldn't we?"

She didn't sound quite convinced herself, but Harry knew she was right. They were stretched out next to each other now, and Harry felt her settle in more comfortably. He didn't think he was going to be able to fall asleep, but he was content to hold her while she did. He thought she'd already dropped off, when he felt a tremor pass through her body. A second later he realised she was giggling.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"I just thought of a trick we can play on Ron and Hermione. To get them back for locking us up."

"Are you really mad at them for doing that?"

"No. But it was still a dirty trick to pull on us."

"True. So what's your plan?"

"You've still got your invisibility cloak, don't you? So all we have to do is cover ourselves up with it, and he'll think we found a way to escape."

Harry began to laugh along with her. "But we don't know when he's going to come for us."

"Let's hope he sleeps late."

"Here." He reached over to where he'd laid the invisibility cloak, shook it out and spread it over them like a blanket. "This way if he comes in before we wake up, we might still have a chance of surprising him."

The last of the candles was guttering out, casting the room into total darkness, and Ginny was burrowing against him. It was time to sleep if they could. Harry kissed her forehead and then her lips. "Good night, Ginny," he said, wishing he could think of some sort of endearment he wouldn't feel stupid using.

"Night, Harry," she yawned.

From the even sound of her breathing, Harry could tell she'd dropped off fairly quickly. He, however, remained awake, willing himself not to be disappointed. So she still hadn't told him she loved him. Perhaps she wasn't ready yet. The promise he'd made her grated at him. He should have come out with it and asked her, but he didn't want her to get the wrong idea. He knew a lot of boys would use a question like that to talk a girl into bed. He didn't want her to think he was pressuring her like that.

Ginny shifted in her sleep, reminding him that certain parts of him would think shagging was a very good idea indeed, and he bit back a groan. Why couldn't his body wait until all of him was ready? There were times--mainly when he was kissing Ginny--when he thought he was more than ready, but at other times the prospect was quite frightening. He had no idea what he was doing, and some of the things he'd seen Dr Zog recommend were rather alarming. What if he hurt her? What if he put her off the idea forever? What if she got pregnant? Contraceptive Charm or no, she was still a Weasley. He reckoned her parents had used the proper charms, too… Then he shuddered at the direction his thoughts had taken. While logic told him it must have happened at least six times, Harry didn't think he ought to be considering the prospect of Mr and Mrs Weasley…

Time to think about something else! he told himself sternly. Ginny sighed, and he tightened his arms around her. Sleeping next to her was nice, actually. A proper bed might be a bit more comfortable…

*

Harry awoke early the next morning, sore from having spent the night cramped into a broken sofa that had never been intended to sleep one person, let alone two. The sofas in the Gryffindor common room were definitely more comfortable. It was now light enough to see in the storage room. Sunlight was filtering feebly through a small, dusty window. It wasn't long before Ginny opened her eyes, and both of them groaned as they pushed back the invisibility cloak and tried to stand. Harry reached for his glasses and put them on.

"The next time we sleep together, can we please do it in a bed?" Ginny grumbled, blushing immediately and clapping a hand over her mouth when she'd realised what she'd just said.

Harry began to redden himself as the implications that statement sunk in, but he decided to ignore them. "Ron and Hermione thought of everything else. You'd think they'd at least have transfigured something into a proper bed."

"Ron wouldn't have wanted to make things too easy for us. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if he'd shrunk the sofas to make it more difficult to share."

"And he expected us to patch things up under those conditions?"

Ginny smiled knowingly. "He wanted us to make up, not make love…"

Harry was relieved when she turned and headed into the toilet at that. The conversation had definitely been heading into delicate matters. It was one thing to think about making love with Ginny; it was quite another to actually discuss it with her. Yet he knew he was going to have to do that at some point. Just not now. He tried to imagine Ron and Hermione having that particular conversation--he reckoned they must have managed it at some point--but he couldn't. How was he supposed to bring up the subject without turning red and feeling embarrassed?

He jumped as the door to the toilet opened, and Ginny came back. Harry ran into the loo as quickly as he could. When he came back, Ginny was setting food out on the table.

"We might as well have breakfast. What do you fancy?"

There was a jug of orange juice and another of milk, both of which had been charmed to remain cold over night, as well as fruit and cereal. Harry suddenly felt quite hungry. When they'd eaten their fill, Ginny was careful to put everything back in the basket so that it looked as if it hadn't been touched. She'd remembered the surprise they'd planned for Ron and Hermione. After that, there was little to do but wait, so they both went over to the sofa on which they'd slept and hid under the invisibility cloak.

It wasn't long before they heard noises out in the corridor. The Silencing Charm had evidently worn off.

"Do you hear anything?" came Hermione's muffled voice through the door.

"Not a thing," they heard Ron reply, his voice a bit clearer. Harry reckoned he'd pressed his ear to the door to listen. "That's a good sign, don't you think?"

"They might still be asleep."

"Or they might be…"

There was a sudden, furious scrambling outside the door.

"What's the bloody counter-spell again?" asked Ron.

Ginny was shaking with suppressed laughter, and Harry nudged her to warn her to be quiet. Suddenly she was whispering very quietly in his ear, "Sounds like we should have thought about this a bit more. We could have given them more of a scare if they thought they were about to walk in on us shagging."

Now Harry had to work at holding in his laughter, but at the same time he felt unaccountably warm.

"Oh, Ron!" Hermione's exasperated voice filtered through the door. "Just let me do it!"

Ginny was back at Harry's ear. "Perhaps we'll have to lock them in here next." Harry thought that sounded like a good idea.

The door opened at last. "Rise and…" Ron began cheerily, but he broke off as he looked around an apparently empty room. Ginny began to shake even harder, while Harry bit down hard on his lip to keep quiet.

"Where'd they go?" Ron had turned to Hermione, who had come in and was looking about suspiciously.

"They can't have gone far, Ron. Check the loo."

Harry heard Ron knock on the door to the toilet and then open it. It wasn't long before they heard him come back. "They're not here, Hermione."

Hermione, meanwhile, was looking closely at the table, no doubt for signs that Harry and Ginny had eaten. "Nonsense, Ron."

Ron moved so that he was in Harry's field of vision, and Harry could see his eye glint with mischief. "You don't think they worked out how to Apparate, do you?"

Harry was very glad that Hermione had her face turned so that he couldn't make out her expression, because he could well imagine it. Actually seeing it would have made him lose it altogether. As it was, she didn't respond to Ron's teasing. She must have been working things out. It wasn't long before Harry heard her say, "Ron, sit on that sofa."

Harry's heart began to pound, but Ron sat down opposite him. But if Hermione was thinking what he thought she was, then that meant…

He scrambled out of the way just in time to avoid having Hermione sit in his lap, but now he was sitting on Ginny, who was breaking into gales of laughter.

"Hah! Got you!" Hermione was reaching over and pulling the invisibility cloak off of Harry and Ginny.

"Serves you right," Ginny was saying, trying to sound grumpy but laughing too hard for it to be effective.

"Yeah," said Harry, trying to sound indignant. "What was the idea locking us up?"

"Come on," said Ron. "The two of you were completely miserable. And you were making life for the rest of us hellish."

"Did you have to resort of such extreme measures, though? Couldn't you have talked to us or something?"

"As if I didn't try? Look how well that worked!"

Harry wondered if Hermione's asking Ginny to teach her Ancient Runes had been a pretence to talk to her about Harry. But no, that wasn't right. He'd seen Hermione working on runes before he and Ginny had had a row.

"So have the two of you patched things up?" Ron was asking.

"You sound just like Mum, honestly," Ginny said. Then she shoved at Harry. "Harry, you're heavy, you know."

Harry stood up. "Sorry about that. Yes, Ron, we have. Are you planning on letting us out any time soon?"

"Well, seeing as you're talking to each other now…"

"You realise I could have been finding out about Malfoy last night."

Ron shrugged. "You can do that just as easily tonight. Unless you have something better to do now."

Harry wasn't sure he liked the challenging note in Ron's tone, and he was tempted to reply that he definitely did have something better to do. But he couldn't shake the feeling that Malfoy could lead them to something important. "Tonight it is, then."

*

Harry vaguely recalled the way down to the Slytherin common room from his second year. With the aid of the Marauders' Map, it had been easy enough to find the stone wall, which hid the entrance, but now he was stuck waiting under the invisibility cloak until someone who knew the password came along.

He strained his ears but could hear no indication of anyone coming. He'd taken the Auditory Enhancing Potion before entering the dungeons, and he knew it was working. His footsteps had sounded unnaturally loud on his way down here, and at one point he'd heard and odd, squishy noise that repeated rhythmically. It had been Mrs Norris, whose footfalls were normally completely silent, and he'd frozen in place until she'd moved on. After seven years, Harry still wasn't convinced that the caretaker's cat couldn't see through invisibility cloaks.

At last, the harsh scraping of stone on stone sounded in his ears, as the hidden entrance opened and someone came out. Harry had to fight the urge to cover his ears with his hands, so loud did the noise sounded to him. He was able to slip through into the common room just as the wall slid shut once more.

He immediately drew the conclusion that the dungeon walls must be very thick indeed. The noise of chattering students was deafening to his ears. It seemed that the potion worked so well that sounds that were normally ignored as background noise, became quite distracting. He wondered how Snape had ever managed to distinguish the sounds he wanted to hear from those he needed to tune out while he was taking this stuff.

Harry shook his head, thinking it would have been prudent to test this potion first to see how it worked, but it was too late for that now. He'd entered the Slytherins' domain, and now he would see what he could find.

He eased quietly into a deserted corner and consulted the Marauders' Map. He could see minuscule dots labelled Draco Malfoy, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle and Blaise Zabini at different locations in the common room. Looking up, he verified this. Rooms were not identified on the map, but the rooms that looked to be the dormitories seemed deserted.

Harry stole along the wall, careful not to bump into anybody. He wished the common room was a little less crowded, but he'd been over this with Ron and Hermione. Too late at night, and everyone would be in their beds asleep. Going through the dormitories would be even riskier then. He came to a passage that led off the common room. He was about to investigate when he nearly ran into Millicent Bulstrode. Heart pounding, he stopped short, his gasp of surprise sounding loudly in his ears. He was sure the Slytherin girl must have heard it and would be aware of his presence. But she hadn't, apparently. She moved on into the room, sitting at a table with Crabbe and Goyle, while Harry headed for the next passage. That one must lead to the boys' dormitories.

He crept along the passage, trying vainly to distinguish any sound, which might indicate someone was coming, until he came to a doorway marked "seventh years" at the very end of the corridor. The room was deserted, fortunately, and Harry went in, wondering how he was going to work out which trunk belonged to Malfoy.

A quick scan of the room made him decide to begin with the bed directly opposite him. It had what looked like the newest trunk at its foot. Opening it, he pulled out a robe with the name Zabini sewn into it.

Looking to his left, Harry saw the trunk that had to belong to Malfoy then. It had the initials DM embossed in gold over what looked suspiciously like a family crest. Looking closer, Harry could read what must be the Malfoy family motto: Postatem obscuri lateris nescitis. "How appropriate," Harry thought to himself.

Moving over to this bed, Harry decided that perhaps Malfoy's bedside table would be a better place to start. Malfoy might keep his letters there. Harry was about to open the drawer when he heard footsteps echoing loudly in the passage. He froze and listened as they came closer and closer.

When it became apparent that whoever was coming hadn't turned aside and was headed for the seventh years' dormitory, Harry decided it was best to take no chances in spite of the invisibility cloak. He scrambled under Malfoy's bed.

Harry stole a glance from his hiding place when the footsteps entered the room, smiling to himself when he saw how had come in. It was none other than Malfoy. Perhaps he would do something, which would give Harry a clue where to look first.

Malfoy sat down on his bed, the mattress sagging, and that was Harry's first indication that maybe he should have chosen a better hiding place. Suddenly he was acutely aware that there were things stored under here. He couldn't see what they were in the dark, but he could touch them. If Malfoy had come in here for any of them, Harry was in danger of being discovered.

He could hear Malfoy rummaging through his bedside table. Malfoy must be looking for something; Harry could hear him swearing under his breath. The mattress stopped sagging as Malfoy stood up.

The next thing Harry saw was Malfoy's eyes seemingly looking straight into his own. Cold sweat broke out on Harry's forehead. He knew Malfoy couldn't see him, but this was unnerving all the same.

Then an arm reached under the bed. Harry tried to get out of the way, but it was too late. Malfoy's hand had made contact.

"What the..."

Malfoy looked confused as his hand encountered something solid and unexpected. Harry slid further under the bed, but there wasn't much room to manoeuvre. Malfoy's hand reached in again, and this time it took hold of the invisibility cloak and tugged. The material was wrapped around Harry's body and, as a result, didn't give.

Malfoy pulled harder, and Harry became concerned that the fabric would tear. In any case, he didn't want Malfoy to get his cloak. Harry crawled out from under the bed, Malfoy's hand still tangled in the cloak.

In the torchlight, Harry saw that the sleeve of Malfoy's robe had slid back, exposing a small, red burn mark on his left forearm. Harry was sure he knew what it was. He remembered seeing it on Wormtail in the cemetery. Draco Malfoy bore the Dark Mark.

The hood of Harry's cloak had fallen over his head, and the two boys stared each other down. The lower part of the cloak was still covering Harry, and he took advantage of this to draw his wand. Malfoy's wand was out as well.

"Well, Potter, fancy meeting you here," Malfoy drawled at last. "Would you mind explaining what the hell you were doing under my bed?"

A/N: Credit goes to Marian for thinking of the door that led nowhere in the loo. The Malfoy family motto comes for a website of silly Latin translations. Anyone able to work out what it means? I believe it's a quote from the Star Wars world. Thanks to my betas and to everyone who's reviewed so far.

Harry and Draco stared at each other, neither one of them moving. Harry began to wonder why Malfoy didn't try to hex him then and there.

"Well, Potter, I'm waiting. What did you think you were going to find under there? You been through all Weasley's copies of Playwitch and looking for some new material to wank off with?"

Harry kept his gaze riveted on Malfoy's wand tip, ready to act at the slightest provocation. "Looks like I don't need to dig up anything more on you. I already know all I need to."

With his peripheral vision, Harry saw Malfoy glance down at his left arm, the one that was extended, holding his wand on Harry. "Oh, that? That's only there for show."

"Come off it, Malfoy. I know what that means. It means you're a Death Eater."

"Does it now? And what would you know about that?"

"Enough to know your dad has one like it."

"Yeah, and he wanted his darling boy to follow in his footsteps, so he took me to get one, too." A note of bitterness had crept into Malfoy's tone. "It was a lot of fun. Do you know what I had to do to prove my worth to the Dark Lord? I'm sure you heard about it. Made the Daily Prophet, that attack did." He shrugged. "It was better than the alternative anyway."

Harry shuddered, thinking of the headlines he'd seen at the Burrow the previous summer. The idea that someone he knew from school had been involved made his blood run cold. "Which was?"

"Don't you get how it works yet? It's prove your merit or be eliminated," Malfoy hissed menacingly, leaning towards Harry as if he were going to take a step closer.

"Stay where you are," Harry warned.

"Oh, don't worry, I know you must have your wand out under there." Malfoy nodded towards Harry's invisibility cloak.

"Then don't come any closer."

"Why not? If you were going to hex me, you'd have done it by now. What's the matter? Gryffindor bravery not all it's made out to be?"

"I could say the same to you. What's stopping you?"

"Maybe I feel like talking."

What was Malfoy on about, anyway? Harry wondered as he gaped. He had the advantage here, so why wasn't he using it? Did he think he could throw Harry off his guard by making conversation? Harry remembered duelling with Lucius Malfoy. The father had used the same tactic, trying to distract him with words.

"All right," said Harry. "You want to talk, then talk. Tell me what you know about what happened to Ginny over the Christmas holiday."

Malfoy laughed, and Harry was sorely tempted to curse him. "You expect me to tell you? Just like that? I suppose I could, but you'd have no way of knowing whether or not I'm telling you the truth, would you?"

Harry knew Malfoy was right, of course, and he wished he'd looked up how to make Veritaserum, knowing at the same time that the recipe would never be in Hogwarts library and that the potion was no doubt beyond his, Ron's and Hermione's abilities.

"Well, I've got all night, and so do you, it seems," Harry replied. He thought he'd worked out now why Malfoy hadn't bothered using his wand. Malfoy must think Harry was wearing his talisman, rendering him immune to whatever Malfoy decided to throw at him. Besides the killing curse, of course, and Malfoy's remarks about his Death Eater initiation implied he might even be able to perform that spell.

"I could always hex you."

"You're not going to hex me; you'd have done it by now," Harry replied, deliberately echoing Malfoy's words to him earlier.

Malfoy shrugged. "Believe me, I would have if I thought it would do me any good."

Harry worked very hard to keep his expression neutral. He couldn't afford to give away to Malfoy that he wasn't wearing the necklace. He had no choice but to seem to let his guard down. He moved his eyes from the tip of Malfoy's wand and looked him in the eyes, but underneath the invisibility cloak, he remained ready to act if he had to.

"Why don't we make a deal?" Harry purposed. "You answer my questions, I'll answer yours."

"I might play along, Potter, but the deal has to be sweeter than that."

"All right, answer my questions, or I'll tell Dumbledore you've got the Dark Mark."

"What makes you think he doesn't already know?"

"He doesn't know."

Malfoy's expression wavered the slightest amount, enough to let Harry know that he'd been right to call the Slytherin's bluff. He hoped his own relief didn't show.

"So tell me what you know about Ginny," Harry prompted.

"Nothing."

"You know it happened."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Everyone knows that by now."

"Did you know about it at the time?"

"I spent the holiday at Malfoy Manor."

"Where was your father?"

"Not around very much. Made for a nice holiday, actually."

"And you didn't wonder where he was?"

Malfoy shrugged. "Didn't ask. Best not to, most of the time."

Harry thought it might be a good idea to ask Malfoy something he already knew the answer to in order to test the Slytherin's truthfulness. "How did he know to go after Ginny?"

"Dunno."

"How did he even know about the talisman?"

"Don't be stupid, Potter. We all saw it at Halloween."

"So you told him about it."

"Yeah, but he already knew."

"So why did you tell him then?"

"Because I couldn't not tell him," Malfoy spat. "Everyone saw it. If he'd found out from someone else, and I hadn't told him…" Malfoy shuddered.

"So you've been passing things along…"

"As little as possible." He held up his left arm, taking his wand off of Harry for a brief time. "You think I wanted to get this?" he hissed. "I didn't have a choice. And now that I've got it, I've got to play the game. My father wants information, I give him information, but I haven't told him everything he wants to know. It isn't easy knowing what I can safely keep from him, though. I'm not the only one passing information along."

"You mean you weren't."

"No, I mean I'm not."

Harry was confused now. "But Dumbledore caught the spy… It was Krum."

"Either he didn't or there's another one."

Harry's heart began to beat faster. "Who is it?"

"I don't know. I'm not allowed to. You see, even my own father doesn't completely trust me."

"But you know there's someone still passing information along. Recently."

"I was only in contact once. Father wanted me to pass a message along, and there was no point in refusing, so I did as he asked. I wasn't allowed to see who it was though."

"Then how do you know it wasn't Krum?"

"It wasn't him, unless he managed to change the way he walks. You know he's not exactly graceful on the ground. This was before Christmas, but there was frost on the ground. I heard the person approach. The footsteps didn't sound at all awkward to me. I could hear them crunching."

"So you met this person outside."

"Yeah, it was at night. Behind Hagrid's old hut for cover."

"And you didn't see them?"

"I told you I didn't. I was instructed to face the hut. Whoever it was came out of the Forbidden Forest."

"Did you hear them speak? Any other clues as to who it is?"

"We weren't to speak. My father had sent me a letter and told me to put it in the pocket of my robes and wait behind the old gamekeeper's hut. I wasn't to speak or turn round. All I heard was someone come up behind me, and then I felt them take the letter from my pocket. Then they left."

"You didn't read the letter?"

"It was in code."

Harry couldn't believe that Malfoy was telling him all this. There had to be a catch somewhere. "Whose side are you on, Malfoy?" he asked slowly.

"Maybe I haven't made up my mind yet. Maybe I'm waiting to see who's going to come out the winner, and while I'm waiting, I'm playing whatever role I have to. Or maybe I'm making it all up. You decide."

Harry stared at Malfoy, and Malfoy stared back. Harry didn't get the impression Malfoy was lying for some reason. The whole time they'd been speaking, Harry hadn't heard any indication in Malfoy's tone that he hadn't been telling the truth. Nor had there been any other signs in Malfoy's posture or eyes. On the other hand, if it were true that Malfoy had been playing both ends against the middle, he'd have to be a good actor, and in that case, he'd be able to lie easily and not let on.

Harry was going to have to think about this, but at the moment, his immediate concern was getting out of here. Could he trust Malfoy to let him go, or should he just hex Malfoy without warning? It was a difficult decision, but in the end, Harry decided it wouldn't be quite fair not to give Malfoy a chance to show his mettle. Perhaps it would also be a clue to whether he was lying or not.

"Well, if that's all you've got to tell me, I'll be off then."

Harry made a move towards the door, but Malfoy raised his wand higher. Harry tightened his grip on his own wand. "Not so fast," said Malfoy. "You never did tell me what you were doing under my bed."

"Looking for information, and I got it."

Malfoy smirked. "If you say so."

Harry made another move towards the door, but Malfoy put out his wand to block him. "I can't let you go that easily."

Harry hoped he could brazen it out. "What can you do to me?"

"I just want to know one thing. Am I going to find you down here again?"

"You think I'm interested or something? I've got a girlfriend, thanks. No, I'd only come back if I had a good reason, like if I found out you were lying."

Malfoy nodded once and lowered his wand. "Don't worry, this doesn't make us mates or anything."

"In your dreams."

Harry covered himself up with his cloak once more, but he didn't dare let his guard down. As soon as he'd disappeared, he turned around and backed out of the room. It didn't matter because Malfoy couldn't see him, but he thought it was more prudent that way. The distrust was apparently mutual, as Malfoy kept his eyes on the door, and so he appeared to be watching Harry as he left the dormitory.

When Harry was back outside the Slytherin common room once more, he went a little way along the corridor before sinking down against the wall. That had been one of the strangest conversations of his life, and he still wasn't sure what to make of it. His overall impression was that Malfoy had been telling the truth--something Harry could barely credit--but in such a way as to raise doubts in Harry's mind. He shook his head. Perhaps Ron and Hermione would be able to make some more sense out of this. At any rate, Hermione would be glad to learn that there was a possibility that Krum wasn't the spy after all.

He got up and made his way back to Gryffindor Tower, where he paused to remove his invisibility cloak before stepping forward to give the Fat Lady the password ("comfy chair!") and climbing through to the common room.

There wasn't anything out of the ordinary going on beyond the typical Saturday night exuberance, but to Harry it sounded like complete pandemonium. He couldn't remember how long the Auditory Enhancing Potion was supposed to last, but he hoped it would wear off soon. The way it magnified the slightest sound was going to make sleeping impossible, he realised. Even now, he didn't know how he was going to manage a conversation with Ron and Hermione amidst all this racket.

He spotted them in a corner with Ginny, and the three of them looked as if they had their heads together over a game of chess. Coming closer, Harry could see that Ginny and Hermione seemed to be teaming up against Ron, and from the look of consternation on Ron's face, the girls were holding their own.

Harry had also caught a glimpse of Parvati trying to catch his eye, and he felt like it would be a good idea to make a public statement to show her he wasn't available.

Ginny was standing behind Hermione, whispering advice to her. "If you sacrifice that bishop, we can have his queen in two moves." Harry grinned to himself. He was willing to bet Ron would love to have some of this potion to make out what the girls were plotting.

Hermione instructed one of her pawns to move, leaving her bishop open to capture. At the same time, Ginny let out a surprised screech, as Harry stole up behind her and put his arms around her waist.

"Harry! Don't do that!" She'd turned her head to face him, and her eyes were very close to his. At the same time, he felt her relax into the embrace.

"Do what?"

"Scare me half to death like that!" But she smiled as she said it.

Ron and Hermione had both looked up at Ginny's cry and were now watching Harry expectantly. "You get anything on Malfoy?" Ron asked, very low, but Harry heard it distinctly.

Harry nodded once. "Not here though."

Ron got up. "Let's go then."

"Wait a minute," said Hermione. "You can't go just like that. We're in the middle of a game!"

"I think this is just a bit more important," said Ron.

"You wouldn't say that if you were winning," Ginny pointed out.

"Who says I'm losing?"

Harry looked at the chess board and the number of pieces each side had taken. He thought Ron's pieces looked rather mutinous. "Ron, I'd say you're in trouble here."

"It's just a minor setback. Nothing insurmountable."

"Prove it then," said Hermione.

Harry had to fight to keep himself from smiling, when Ron instructed one of his castles to take the bishop the girls had left vulnerable. Two moves later, when Ron had lost his queen, he looked peevishly at Hermione and said, "It's not fair, you know, two against one."

"Are you implying I should help you?" Harry asked Ron. "When you trounce me on a regular basis?"

Ron looked hard at Harry, and Harry was sure he didn't want to admit he needed help. Then Harry had a wicked idea. "I suppose I could help you another way."

His arms were still around Ginny's waist, and he tightened his grip, while he nuzzled into the angle where her neck met her shoulder. He thought he felt her shiver. "Harry! That tickles!" she protested, trying vainly to duck away.

Ron was about to make a move, when Harry saw his eyes go round as saucers. Then Ron looked under the table. "Hermione!"

"Just trying to even the odds," Hermione replied innocently. "If Harry's going to distract Ginny like that, it's only fair."

"I thought Harry had something important to tell us," Ron reminded them.

"It's still your move, Ron. You can always forfeit, you know."

"No way. If I do, I'll never hear the end of it. You'll never let me forget it."

Hermione didn't reply, but Harry imagined she was smiling sweetly at Ron while he made his next move.

It was a tribute to Ron's chess playing ability that the game ended in a stalemate, in spite of the loss of his queen. Harry clearly heard him mutter that this was the last time he let two girls gang up on him.

"What was that, Ron?" asked Hermione, who had obviously not understood.

"Nothing," replied Ron. "Where are we going to go?"

Harry looked around the common room, spotting the other seventh year boys. He also noticed that Colin Creevey seemed to be staring at an oblivious Parvati Patil, who was looking at Harry with a disgruntled expression on her face. Harry sincerely hoped she'd taken the hint.

"The dormitory ought to be all right," he said to Ron. "We can close the door, and I think I'll hear anyone coming a mile off."

"That stuff working, then?"

"Yeah, just a bit. Believe me, you don't want to know what Seamus and Lavender are saying to each other over there." Harry nodded towards another secluded corner, where Seamus and Lavender looked to be quite cosily ensconced.

They quietly made their way over to the boys' staircase, and after a quick look around to be certain no one was paying attention, sent the girls up first. When Harry and Ron had made their way up to the dormitory as well, Hermione closed the door and took out her wand.

"Claustrum!"

It was the spell Snape had used in Wales, and Harry knew that the room had been effectively locked down as the walls glowed green for a moment.

Ron went over and sat down on his bed, while Harry stretched out on his own four-poster, propping his head up on one hand. It was going to feel good to sleep in a proper bed tonight, even if he had to do so alone. He moved his legs over to make room for Ginny, while Hermione went to sit with Ron.

When they were all in place, Harry launched into his story, telling the others about how he'd come to be caught and the odd conversation he'd had with Malfoy. When he'd finished, no one said anything for a long moment. Finally, Ron broke the silence.

"Why would Malfoy tell you all that?"

"I dunno. That's what's weird about it," replied Harry.

"Bet he was lying."

"I didn't get the feeling he was, though, that's the thing."

"At least we know Krum wasn't the spy," said Hermione.

"You don't know that," said Ron.

"Malfoy said he didn't meet Viktor Krum, Ron."

"Doesn't mean that whoever Malfoy met is the only one."

"Just how many spies do you think are running about the place?" asked Hermione.

"Why did Dumbledore sack him if he wasn't a spy? And what about what he did to Ginny?"

Hermione glowered at Ron.

Harry decided to break in before the argument could escalate. "What's important now is the spy who's still here at Hogwarts. Whatever was up with Krum, he's not here now. But there's still someone passing information on to Lucius Malfoy."

"If Draco Malfoy was telling the truth, you mean," said Ron.

"I think he was," said Harry, feeling like they were going around in circles. "So why did he tell me all that?"

"From what you said, Harry," Hermione began speculatively, "by his own admission he's doing whatever he has to, to have an in with either side. He received the Dark Mark to please his father, but his heart wasn't really in it, was it?"

"No, it doesn't seem that way," agreed Harry. "The way he told it, he was forced into it."

"Yes, and perhaps he's wondering about what else he'll have to do once he's finished school. As long as he's here at Hogwarts, there really isn't a whole lot of horrific things they can order him to do, but once he's no longer under Dumbledore's wing…"

"So you're saying he's trying to sabotage his own father?"

"I've never got the impression he liked his father much, have you?"

"You're right. He as much as said he was glad his dad wasn't home over the holiday. But he also told me he hadn't chosen what side he was on."

Ron snorted. "He's just telling you what he thinks you want to hear. He's chosen all right!"

Hermione was shaking her head. "No, he's doing what's expedient, but I think he has chosen. He's chosen to do whatever's best for Draco Malfoy first and foremost."

Harry reckoned she was right, but he didn't like the idea. It made Draco Malfoy seem all the more dangerous in Harry's opinion.

"We need to go to Dumbledore with this," Hermione went on.

"We can't," said Harry.

"Why on earth not?"

"Because he's going to want to know how I found this out, and then I'd have to tell him that Malfoy has the Dark Mark. I made a deal with Malfoy that I wouldn't tell Dumbledore about that. That's why he agreed to talk in the first place."

"Who cares?" said Ron. "This is Malfoy we're talking about here. Why do you want to protect him?"

"If he hasn't made up his mind yet whose side he's on," said Hermione, "it might push him the wrong way if he thinks he can't trust Harry."

Harry had never expected Hermione to support him in this, while Ron pushed him to go to the headmaster, and he gaped at them both for a moment before saying, "If we can find out who the real spy is, independent of what Malfoy told us, which isn't much, really, then we'll tell Dumbledore."

"Great!" said Ron. "Just how are we going to go about that?"

But no one could answer him.

*

In the days that followed, Harry tried his best to keep a close eye on Malfoy. He held onto the hope that Malfoy would somehow betray his true intentions through some unguarded action or expression, but Harry could discern nothing new in the Slytherin's behaviour. And whenever Malfoy would catch Harry staring, he sneered.

Harry also tried to observe the other students and staff in case he noticed anything out of the ordinary, any clue at all that one of them could be working for Lucius Malfoy. He paid extra attention to the Slytherins, as they seemed the likeliest candidates. He immediately dismissed Crabbe and Goyle as being too stupid to carry off the role of spy, but that still left Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode and the rest of Slytherin house.

When he brought up the possibility to Ron and Hermione, Hermione wasn't very convinced. "If it was another member of his house, Malfoy might have noticed something familiar when he met them. I mean he noticed enough to eliminate Viktor Krum…"

"Or maybe he's protecting one of his friends by saying he doesn't know who it is when he actually does," said Ron.

Harry had also tried to keep an eye out for clues around Hagrid's cabin during Care of Magical Creatures class. Perhaps it had been used as a rendezvous point more than once. Unfortunately, with all the snow gone, now that spring was approaching, and the number of students who normally came down here for class, not to mention various creatures, the ground outside the cabin was thoroughly trampled, and it was impossible to tell if anything out of the ordinary was going on.

It was now the beginning of March--Ron's eighteenth birthday had come and gone--and Harry still didn't have the slightest idea where to begin. On top of that, every single one of his teachers had begun preparing the seventh years for their NEWTs in earnest. Even Professor Flitwick, who tended to be easy-going, had deluged them with extra work. This meant that Harry, Ron and Hermione spent every night in the common room working full out from the end of supper until curfew. There was little time for other considerations, and Ginny had begun to look at Harry with a mixture of concern and apprehension.

"I reckon this is what I've got to look forward to next year," she said one evening, while Harry madly scribbled away at an essay for Professor McGonagall, which was due the following day.

Harry looked up for a moment, a wry grin spreading over his face. "If you're clever, you'll get a head start on all this over the summer holiday. Then you'll stand half a chance of getting it finished on time."

He went back to his essay, while Ginny returned to her runes. Hermione was too busy to work on that project at the moment, and Ginny was forging ahead on her own. Harry couldn't resist stealing another glance at her, as she bent over her parchment. Her hair was catching the light from the fire, reflecting a myriad of reds. Her arm extended, as she wrote something down, and Harry saw that she was wearing his Christmas present. He thought longingly of the Easter holiday, which was still six weeks away. At the rate things were going, he couldn't hope for any time alone with her before then.

She must have felt his gaze on her, for she looked up. "You're not going to get very much finished at that rate." But she was smiling as she said the words. He wondered in passing how he was ever going to manage to get through next year while she finished school. The month they'd been separated had been torture…

Harry made himself get back to work. He still had to find a way to fill a foot and a half of parchment before Professor McGonagall would accept his essay, but it wasn't long before he was interrupted again.

He felt a prickling on the back of his neck, as he sensed someone's presence nearby. He looked up to see Colin Creevey standing at the table he and Ginny were using. "Erm, sorry to bother you, Harry, but could I have a word?"

"Sure, Colin, but could you make it quick? Only I've got to get this essay finished."

Colin looked uncomfortably at Ginny before replying. "It's… it's kind of, well, personal."

Harry wondered what Colin could possibly want with him that he couldn't discuss in front of Ginny. It wasn't as if he'd ever been friends with Colin. In the past, he'd considered Colin more of an annoyance than anything else.

Harry stood up and took Colin out of earshot. He noticed, as if for the first time that Colin was no longer a tiny, mousy boy. He was almost as tall as Harry now.

"What is it then?" Harry asked.

"I heard you had, well, a book that had advice in it. Advice about girls. And, well, I was wondering if you'd let me borrow it. Please?"

Harry's first instinct was to say no. That book had been enough of a source of embarrassment to him, and he didn't like letting it out of his sight unless it was in his trunk, where he'd kept it locked up ever since the incident in Charms class. It had been bad enough when it had made the rounds of the seventh years. If it was going to be passed round among the sixth years as well, could the fifth years be far from finding out about it? It was never going to end at this rate.

On the other hand, Colin had taken it upon himself to spy on the Slytherin Quidditch team last autumn. He and Ron had never really thanked Colin for that. It wouldn't be quite right to refuse him now.

"Please, Harry," Colin said again, his expression reminding Harry of a puppy. "Only I've never had a lot of luck with girls, and maybe there's some advice for me." Colin looked around and lowered his voice. "Did you ever see anything in there about attracting older women?"

Harry had a sudden nasty image of Colin with Madam Hooch. He shuddered slightly. "Er, older women? Can't say that I have, no."

Colin's face fell. "Pity, that."

"It doesn't mean it's not in there," Harry said quickly. "Only I've never needed it." He hesitated, but morbid curiosity made him ask the next question. "How much older are we talking?"

"Oh, just a year."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Then he remembered seeing Colin staring at Parvati last week. That decided it. If Colin could manage to get Parvati to leave him alone, then it was worth the risk of lending out Dr Zog.

"All right, Colin. I can let you borrow the book. Just be really careful with it. It's got a twisted sense of humour."

"What?"

"It's got a mind of its own, this book, and it tends to turn up in embarrassing places. Just try not to let it out of your dormitory, all right? Don't carry it around in your bag."

"All right. Thanks, Harry, I really appreciate it."

"Come on. We'll go get it now. But then I really have to get back to my homework."

Colin followed Harry up to the seventh year dormitory and waited while Harry unlocked his trunk and began to dig to the bottom.

"That's odd. I swear I left it here… Bugger it all!" Harry looked in his school bag, just in case the book had managed to find its way into it, but the book wasn't there either.

"What?"

"It's gone!"

"Maybe someone else borrowed it."

"You don't know this book, Colin. That's the least of my worries. It likes to play tricks, and now it's played another one on me. It's not here."

The Latin Postatem obscuri lateris nescitis, which I had as the Malfoy family motto translates to, "You do not know the power of the dark side." Canus lupa, Spiffy Chan and Tiger Lily got it right.

There's an obscure Monty Python reference in this chapter, if anyone wants to look for it.

Credit must go to Goggle Boy for giving me the idea of pairing up Colin and Parvati. Credit also goes to my betas and everyone who reviewed. Thanks, I really appreciate it!

"I believe you owe me an essay, Potter."

Professor McGonagall was holding out her hand expectantly. The rest of the class had already handed in their two rolls of parchment on the different ways cross-species Transfigurations could go wrong. Harry swallowed.

"I'm sorry, Professor, I haven't got it finished yet."

Harry stared straight ahead of him, ignoring the others' reactions. He was sure Hermione was looking at him disapprovingly, and that Ron wore a surprised expression, while Professor McGonagall's mouth had formed a very thin line.

"I see," said the professor. "You realise I'll be obliged to deduct marks. I expect it first thing tomorrow morning, or I'll have to dock you even more. I must say, I'm dreadfully disappointed. First a Gryffindor prefect earns himself a detention…" Here she looked pointedly at Neville. "… and now this. This is no time to begin slacking off in your studies. The NEWTs…"

Harry tuned her out, remembering the scene in his dormitory last night. After apologising to Colin, Harry had spent the rest of the previous evening tearing his dormitory apart looking for the Dr Zog book, and that was the reason he hadn't had time to finish his essay. He'd decided that he'd rather face McGonagall than risk the embarrassment of having that book turn up at the wrong time again. But he hadn't managed to find it anywhere, and he was dreading having it appear in his bag in the middle of class. He wouldn't put it past that book to make an appearance now, in fact, and earn him a detention… a detention like Neville.

Neville had hurried into the dormitory, red-faced, in the middle of Harry's search. He'd barely even noticed the chaos Harry had created. Neville hadn't spoken to Harry; he hadn't even looked in Harry's direction. He'd simply gone to bed as quickly as possible.

Harry wondered what Neville, who had become such a stickler for the rules, could possibly have done to earn himself a detention. Ever since the Butterbeer incident at the beginning of the previous term when he'd come so close to being stripped of his prefect's badge, he'd been scrupulously careful to avoid trouble.

At the end of Transfiguration, Harry tried to catch Neville's eye, but he noticed immediately that Neville refused to look in Harry's direction. All the way down to Care of Magical Creatures, Harry got the definite impression that Neville was avoiding him.

The Slytherins were already assembled in front of Hagrid's old cabin, where a thin wisp of smoke could be seen rising from the chimney, when the Gryffindors arrived.

"Hey, lover boy," said Malfoy loudly enough for all to hear, "I heard you had a hot date last night." The other Slytherins sniggered while Neville turned red and stared at the ground. "Nice way to impress a girl, bringing an instruction manual!"

Harry looked sharply at Neville. Could he have taken the Dr Zog book? But it had been locked up in Harry's trunk. A feeling of anger rose in him. If Neville had taken it upon himself to go through Harry's things without asking, then he deserved the nastiest detention possible. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment, Professor Grubbly-Plank came bustling from behind the cabin.

"Settle down now," she said. "We'll be getting started."

Harry would have to wait until after class to get this sorted out. At the end of Care of Magical Creatures class--during which the seventh years had been assigned a huge essay on Jabberknolls--Neville took off like a shot towards the castle. Harry was sure he wanted to avoid more taunting from the Slytherins, and no doubt he wanted to avoid Harry as well.

"Neville!" called Harry, running to catch him up. "Neville!"

Harry had to finally grab Neville's arm to make him stop. They were at the base of the steps that led up to the front door of the castle. Harry pulled Neville aside to let the others pass, calling to Ron and Hermione that he'd be along shortly.

"Going to give him some pointers on impressing girls, Potter?" drawled Malfoy as the Slytherins filed past. "Some dos and don'ts? You know Longbottom must be really desperate if he's willing to take advice from Potter."