Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. The entire HP universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. If I ever claim to own it, let me drown in a sea of never-ending lawyers.


A/N: All song lyrics are credited in each chapter to the individual artist.


Chapter 1: A Stranger


We call them strong
Those who can face this world alone
Who seem to get by on their own
Those who will never take the fall

Garth Brooks
“Standing Outside the Fire�



So that was it.

He was no longer hers. Her relationship with Harry was gone. Done. Just like that.

“It’s for some stupid, noble reason, isn’t it?�

She smiled at the Merpeople slowly disappearing beneath the late, remembering how Harry had emerged from its inky depths two years ago, coughing and gasping for air, with Ron and Phlegm’s little sister in tow, struggling to tread water. Harry had come in dead last during the second task, but still he managed to tie for first place. He had always been that way; playing the hero was what Harry Potter did best.

Best? Maybe it was best, just like he said, like this?

She turned away from the lake and stood there looking ahead at the white tomb. So many people had died, including the greatest wizard alive. This was war, but casualties are never easy to see. Especially when it comes so unexpected. The tears were spent, but there was still an empty gap that definitely hadn’t been there before Dumbledore’s death.

This war had to be ended, but there was only one person left capable of doing so. If Harry thought that ending their relationship was going to keep her from helping to end the war, he was stark raving mad. Nothing was going to stop her. Absolutely nothing.

People were starting to move around her and slowly trickle out of the grounds onto the road leading into Hogsmeade or wherever the wind took them, yet none of the people she saw she knew or were able to talk to her. Approaching the white tomb, a lump formed in her throat that was hard to swallow. She ran a hand along the tomb’s cool edge, feeling a shiver run up and down her spine.

There were rumours that Hogwarts was never going to open its doors again, and realizing as she stood there, this wouldn’t just be the last day of school before summer; it really could be her last time at Hogwarts ...ever... Even though McGonagall was now the Headmistress, no one could ever take Dumbledore’s place. Hogwarts had suffered a permanent loss. What where they going to do now?

“Did you know him well?�
She spun around and saw a tall, teenage boy looking at her with remarkable turquoise eyes and black hair falling lightly in front of his gaze. She smiled at him.

“Well enough.�
He drew closer to the tomb, stood beside her, and murmured, “He must have been an extraordinary man for so many to come.�

She chuckled and answered, “Extraordinary is right.� The boy raised an eyebrow at this and smiled in return.

“Gryffin,� he said, offering his hand.
She took it, looking him directly in the eye, and whispered, “Ginny.� He had a bright smile that did something to his face, something familiar, but it was almost unnerving, though not in a bad way. “Are you from the States? Your accent is bizarre.�

His smile faded slightly, and he carelessly shrugged his shoulders. “New England. Someplace too cold and too crowded, especially in the fall.�

“Fall?� she inquired. For some reason, Ginny had the sudden mental image of a crowd of people falling like dominos, one on top of the other.

“September through November,� he replied, but Ginny still had a blank look on her face. “It’s when the trees lose their leaves, you know. You do know what fall is, right?�

“Oh, you mean autumn,� she answered, sheepishly. “It would get crowded if you toppled face first into the person in front of you on the Boston streets. People would probably use you as a doormat.�

She caught Gryffin by surprise, making him let out a bark of laughter.

“It sounds more interesting than where I’m from,� she offered. “I come from a small village in the middle of nowhere.�

“How so?� asked Gryffin.

“It’s hours from all my school friends and London,� Ginny said cheerfully. “Except for Luna Lovegood, of course.� A gentle breeze began to pick up, and a strand of fiery hair fell into her eyes. She felt strangely aware of Gryffin’s gaze as she pulled the strand away, making the smile slide from her face. “You travelled a long way to get here.�

“Mum used to be a student of Dumbledore’s,� explained Gryffin. “She loved this old man. You won’t believe how amazed she was to hear that he had died.�

“I believe it,� she reassured him. “Dumbledore was a great man. No one ever did as much for Hogwarts as he did.�

“Is it true that he’s the only headmaster buried here?� Gryffin stared at the solemn, marble structure.

“It’s true.� Ginny ran her fingers once again along the tomb’s edge. “It’s only fitting, isn’t it?� Gryffin nodded. They both fell silent and just stared at Dumbledore’s last resting place.

Gryffin pulled out his wand and transfigured two red roses in his hand. He gently placed it on the tomb’s level surface, among many other tokens left to let Dumbledore know he wasn’t forgotten. He offered the other one to Ginny, who accepted and laid it to rest beside his.

“I wish I knew him,� murmured Gryffin, unexpectedly.

“I do too.�

Please watch over Harry, Professor.

Harry himself was settled under a large beech tree with Ron and Hermione, who was immersed in a book the size of a paving stone. They had approximately a half hour before the Hogwarts Express took off, but that didn’t stop Prof. McGonagall from appearing in front of them.

“Professor?� said Harry, startled.

“Potter, I need to speak to you. Please accompany me up to the castle.� McGonagall wasted no words. Feeling as though McGonagall certainly had better things to do than berate him, Harry stood up. When Hermione and Ron tried to follow suit, McGonagall cut across them, saying, “This is a matter just for Mr. Potter.� Ron and Hermione didn’t bother to argue with her.

Traipsing up to the castle with McGonagall, Harry asked, “Professor, what’s going on?�

“You’ll see when we get there,� she insisted, much to Harry’s annoyance. To McGonagall’s credit though, the trip to Dumbledore’s old office was quick, but it was the last place Harry wanted to be, let alone visit. However, he soon stood on the threshold of its large wooden doors.

Without hesitation the headmistress led him inside, nearly hitting Harry with the swinging door in the process. The circular office now still had the portraits of old heads, but all the occupants were now empty, including the newest edition, Dumbledore’s, which Harry had a hard time bringing himself to look upon. That wasn’t the only curious thing about the office; Harry and McGonagall weren’t the only people there.

A tall blonde woman turned from the case that held Godric Gryffindor’s sword upon their entrance. A smile appeared on a lean face that had aged before its time while her turquoise eyes brightened. “You must be Harry,� she murmured with a slight accent, perhaps American.

“Mr. Potter, this is Gemma Peterson,� McGonagall introduced with a flick of her hand before settling herself behind the desk.

The woman extended her thin hand to Harry, which he took, and kept looking him directly in the eye. Her resolute gaze never faltered, and it was nearly unnerving. “I’ve always wanted to meet you, Harry,� she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “What happened to your parents was terrible, and I wish that there was something that could have been done.� There was a slight pause, where Harry, taken aback, just gaped at her. This was the last topic he had been expecting to come up. “Lily, James, and Albus must all be so proud of you...�

Harry shifted uncomfortably and dropped his eyes to the carpet as though inspecting it for dirt. He was at a loss for words for this woman. What could really be said in reply to such a thing? Thankfully, McGonagall did.

“Gemma, Harry would probably like to know why he’s here when the train is going to be leaving in less than a half an hour,� the headmistress said, surprisingly in a gentle tone.

“I suppose you’re right, Minerva,� replied Gemma. “Like Professor McGonagall said, my name is Gemma Peterson, and I knew your father and mother at school, Harry. Your mother, like you’ve probably heard, was a brilliant witch, and your father.... Let’s just say that James was one of a kind.� (This didn’t surprise Harry.) “I also happen to know Sirius Black as well...� She suddenly trailed off as though stealing herself to say more.

“It’s all right, Gemma,� McGonagall encouraged her, but Gemma still kept her silence and turned her back on both of them.

If one thing could be said about this woman, it would be that she had caught Harry’s attention. What did she know about Sirius? Was it something to do with his family? What was it...? How did it involve her?

After a minute or two, the woman finally said, “Sirius and I were very close...� Harry stopped dead. Was she crying...? “...You may not understand, Harry. You probably n-never w-will....� The woman amazingly broke down completely, collapsing into tears. Alarmed, Harry stepped back while McGonagall immediately got up and went to her.

Turning the woman to face her, McGonagall looked her straight in the eye and said in a stern voice she had used with many students, “Gemma, you must pull yourself together. Sirius and Albus are dead, but so are so many others. This is war; you must understand that, and there will be casualties. The best thing to do, for their sakes, your son’s, and ours, is to move on.� There was a slight pause before she added in a low voice, “I miss him too. He was a brilliant student and a wonderful wizard, but he’s dead. There’s nothing we can do to change that.�

After several minutes, Gemma finally spilled the last of her tears. McGonagall had her sit in a hard, wooden chair in front of the old desk, while Harry felt very aware out how awkward the situation was. “You must think me mad, Harry,� she whispered, holding a cup of hot tea in her hands McGonagall had magicked for her.

“No, I don’t,� Harry answered honestly, forcibly reminded of a similar situation two summers ago at Grimmauld Place. Gemma smiled.

“Just so you know, I’m usually not so dramatic,� she replied and let out a weak laugh. Her expression suddenly became serious. “Time is pressing, and you must know why you called up here.� Harry nodded. “Like I said, Sirius and I were close... very close...� She paused before she went on. “However, there was a war like now, and I had left Hogwarts for a job offered to me overseas at the Salem Witches’ Institute. Sirius planned on visiting me often, but because of You-Know-Who’s power, he came only once... You were about three months when I found--� she shifted uncomfortably in her seat “--that I was pregnant.�

Her words fell heavy into the air. Harry stared at her, completely taken aback. This was definitely not what he had been expecting. Pregnant? Pregnant? With Sirius’ child?

Well, thought Harry fairly, knowing Sirius, perhaps it’s not so impossible...

“Err--when did Sirius find out?� asked Harry, casting around for something to say. Apparently, he had said the wrong thing, because Gemma looked close to tears again. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you...� Harry looked around flustered.

“No, it’s fine, Harry,� murmured Gemma. “I was going to get to that anyway... You see, Sirius never knew.� Harry stopped and stared at her blankly.

“What?�

“Sirius never knew,� she repeated in a hollow voice. “He told me to stop sending him letters because of the danger before I even knew I was pregnant, and I was too much of a scared fool to tell him. The next thing I know, my baby was born, and Sirius Black had been hauled away to Azkaban for murder.�

Harry just continued to stare at her with disbelief etched into every corner of his face. Sirius never knew he had a child. On this subject his godfather had known just as much he did. Harry thought back to the times at Grimmauld Place when Sirius had been permanently entrenched in a surly depression, reeking of hard liquor. At the same time, however, it occurred to him how thin and haggard Gemma Peterson really was, even with her broad shoulders. She looked as though she would unravel at the seams and fall away, but she sat erect in her chair trying to hold herself together. It was hard to believe that this proud woman had endured so much pain.

“It wasn’t very long ago that I learned that Sirius was innocent, and Peter had faked his death,� she continued, her hands shaking, “and that he had killed all those people..., but Sirius was dead.� Gemma paused before going on. “I learned all of this through Dumbledore, but I wasn’t able to come before now; the United States had closed its borders after the announcement that Voldemort was back. It was a lot of effort on Dumbledore’s part to get us into the United Kingdom ...for his funeral...�

Harry gazed at her for a moment before tentatively asking, “What does this have to do with me?�

“I want you to know that my son and I aren’t here to challenge you, Harry,� answered Gemma immediately. “When Sirius died, he left everything he owned to you. We don’t want anything to do with Sirius’ will.� Harry nodded uncertainly, feeling an unpleasant feeling in the pit of his stomach.

“I could split the gold with you,� Harry offered. “In fact, I don’t want any of it-- take all of it.�

“No, Harry,� she replied firmly. “It’s yours. Keep it all-- the house, gold, silver, everything.�

Harry was about to argue when McGonagall cut in, “Now that is settled, Potter....� McGonagall slid a manila envelope in front of him on top of the desk. “Professor Dumbledore wanted you to have this.�

Harry grasped the envelope in his hands. He was tempted to open it, right then and there, but he kept control of himself; he would only let Ron and Hermione see inside. Harry turned to find McGonagall’s shrewd, calculating stare upon him.

“Potter, are you still unwilling to tell me everything that Dumbledore confided in you?� inquired McGonagall once again. Harry looked her directly in the eye.

“Yes.�

The headmistress sighed. “So be it then. Potter, you need to go. The train is leaving in less than ten minutes.� McGonagall then ushered him out of the room without a word.

Soon enough, Harry found himself huffing for breath outside at the foot of the castle steps, clutching the envelope in his hands. He had no idea what was inside. Knowing Dumbledore, however, it wasn’t likely to be something trivial.

Harry glanced back at the castle one last time, hoping to let go of any regrets he had. This would perhaps be the last time he would look up to see the towering castle and its rambling structure. To Harry’s surprise, however, he had only one regret-- that he had to leave his home.

He turned his back on Hogwarts and quietly slipped away to meet his friends waiting for him at the gate.


A/N: Thanks for reading! Don't forget to leave a review. :D

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is not mine and never will be. The entire Harry Potter universe and its contents belongs to J.K. Rowling. (Heaven help me if I ever claim to own it.)

Chapter 2: What He Left Behind


I probably wouldn't be this way,
I probably wouldn't hurt so bad,
I never pictured every minute without you in it,
Oh you left so fast...


LeAnn Rimes
“Probably Wouldn’t Be This Way�

“I will return shortly, and your son should be here soon.�

A door opened and closed somewhere, but she wasn’t paying attention. Gemma breathed deeply and tried to steady her shaking hands. She had finally given in and broken down, but it was harder she found to pick up the pieces and to make it all right again. Nothing would ever make it all right again.

Voldemort was back. Sirius, Dumbledore, James, and Lily were dead. Alice and Frank were permanently incarcerated in a psych ward, while Peter had betrayed the Order. Snape had murdered Dumbledore; the one man Voldemort feared was dead.

She clutched herself, suddenly light-headed and fought devastating waves of nausea. There was nowhere to run. Voldemort had her family within his reach. What could she possibly do?

Gemma stood and staggered over to the rubbish bin, knocking books off their shelves. She trembled and emptied the contents of her stomach into the bin. Breathless, she stumbled over scattered books to settle herself back into her chair.

It had been a long time since she had felt this kind of fear. Life in Salem, Massachusetts had been surreal and jarringly different from things in Britain. Yet people had heard of the Dark Lord returning, life in the States had not been so chaotic. There were no peddlers in the once crowded streets of abandoned strips. There were no extra security measures or stories of tragedy everywhere you turned.

Sure, Magical Security was now limiting travel between other countries and the United States more than ever. Yet people in the U.S. went blissfully unaware of what made petrified people lock their doors in Europe. Voldemort was back and with a vengeance.

Gemma buried her face in her hands. She thought back to when the days when she had been happiest–-her Hogwarts days. That would be the closest her life would ever get to perfect. Her whole world had revolved around her friends, Alice, Lily, Serenity, and her boyfriend.... A faint smile crossed her lips. Sirius had always been known to break the mold.

Sometimes she felt she could still see him standing in front of her, laughing and reaching out to touch her face. Gemma could get lost in dreams, blurring the lines of what was real and what wasn’t. She was losing her mind. She knew it, and she loved every moment of it. It was all worth it if just to see his lopsided grin again. Perhaps, she would have been better off never knowing him. Then again, she would have never had the chance to know exactly how much she could love.

She was a wreck without him. Why should she struggle to keep her life going? Even though she had managed without him for over sixteen years, that had been when she thought he was guilty.

“You’ve always had such a big impact on everything, haven’t you, Sirius?� she murmured into the thin air. The smile faded from her lips. “You left me with a fatherless son and didn’t contact me, even after you escaped from Azkaban, and yet... I can’t find it in my heart to hate you.� She took a deep breath, feeling the rough dryness in her throat. “You always had a big impact on things, especially me.�

“Mum?�

She stopped and snapped around to face her son standing in front of the door. His expression was impassive. She gave him the pleasure of a half-hearted smile.

“Do you always have to talk to him?� he asked.

“Y-yes, yes, I do.�

Her son slowly stepped closer and took her hand. He squeezed it, and Gemma felt an old warmth return to her body, remembering why she had made it through all those years.

“I love you.�

“I love you too.�


Harry sat pressed against a cushion staring at the tan envelope in his hands. Ron and Hermione were seated opposite of him waiting. They were all on the Hogwarts Express and could feel the jittery shaking of the train on the tracks.

“So...,� began Ron, “what d’you reckon is inside?�

“I dunno,� answered Harry.

“Well, then what are you waiting for?� asked Hermione. “Open it, Harry.�

Harry undid the clip at the top of the envelope and shook it. Something silvery strung on a chain popped out along with a folded piece of parchment. Ron and Hermione seized the spots next to Harry, staring open-mouthed.

“What is it?� said Ron, staring at the chain.

“It’s a pendant,� murmured Hermione, picking it up to examine closely.

Harry wasn’t listening, but was instead opening the piece of parchment:


Dear Harry,

If you are reading this, I can only assume it is under the correct circumstances. For what you hold is imperative to achieving what you set out to do this very year. Lord Voldemort is gaining in power as the year progresses, but I had hoped that wouldn’t be necessary to do what I am about to do. My trust is lies with you, Harry.

What now lies in your possession once belonged to a very distant and long-dead relative of mine. This long-dead relative of mine certainly would not have this fall into the wrong hands. I hope you forgive me for asking but another favour of you, but I want you to protect this, Harry. You may wonder why I am asking this of you. Along your journey, I am sure you will find that this will help make your life easier. However, Harry, I expect you to follow the rules. I would not give you this if I did not expect this of you. Again, I am counting on you, Harry...

If you are at a loss and cannot fix what was, turn to the left and undo the undone. Each mark tells a tale of a certain year come and gone, each revolution a decade. Yet you can barely linger from sunrise to sunset. Good luck, Harry.

Sincerely,

Albus Dumbledore


Harry blinked and read the last paragraph of the letter again. It still didn’t make any sense...

“Harry, look!� exclaimed Hermione suddenly. Harry turned to stare at the silvery pendant in her hand. On the chain hung a large ring capped with another held together with a small clasp. It looked as though it would spin, if not for the clasp. Thick lines were chiselled in at various intervals on the bottom ring while on the top a small triangle pointed down towards the lines.

“Do you know what it’s for?� Hermione asked hopefully.

“No,� said Harry, handing Ron the letter and took the pendant from Hermione, whom listened to Ron read it aloud. The lines on the ring were thin, but perfect. What bemused Harry the most was the clasp, which seemed like it did not want to budge. As he examined it more closely, he discovered two small letters intertwining, R, R.

“Is it me or do you think Dumbledore had gone off his rocker?� Ron asked to no one in particular, after he had finished reading.

“It’s you,� answered Hermione, seizing the piece of paper from him. “What does he mean by ‘turn to the left and undo the undone’? That’s impossible, unless you have a time turner or... something, but they’ve all been destroyed.�

“I’m telling you, Hermione,� insisted Ron. “He was going senile. How else can he just sound so serious and start talking nonsense?�

“That’s exactly it,� replied Hermione. “Dumbledore would never act this way about anything so serious.�

“Maybe, he’s talking in code,� Ron suggested airily. Hermione looked as though she could kiss him.

“Ron, you’re a genius!� she shouted.

“Yeah, I know, but I don’t know what took you so long to figure it out.�

“Harry, can I see that?� Taking the pendant into her hands, Hermione counted each marking on the ring. “‘Each mark tells a tale of a certain year come and gone, each revolution a decade.’� The excitement in her voice rose with each word she spoke. “Ten marks, ten years. One revolution, one decade. Harry, Dumbledore’s given you a time turner!�

Harry stared in disbelief at the gleaming pendant in Hermione’s hand. “You’re joking, right?�

“No, I’m not,� said Hermione defensively. “Oh come on. Think about it, Harry. Why else would Dumbledore want you to follow some rules so badly? What else could possibly help you more? What else would Dumbledore want you to keep so secret? It’s very possibly last one in all of Europe.�

“But how can it be, Hermione?� Ron asked suddenly. “It looks nothing like a time turner.�

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,� muttered Harry. Hermione frowned slightly.

“I don’t know,� she muttered. “Look at it though. It’s not exactly young, is it?� Sure enough, the ring was scuffed in certain areas, and the silver looked tarnished. “It did mention a long-dead relative..., but I’ve never read about a time turner like this, and it’s so different compared to what came before today’s time turner.�

“Well, if it did belong to one of Dumbledore’s family, it would have to be different, wouldn’t it?� answered Ron.

“More importantly,� Harry began softly, “why would Dumbledore give me something like a time turner? He knew about the danger...�

“Maybe, he wanted you to change something, mate,� Ron suggested.

“Or he wanted you to find out something about the past,� Hermione whispered.

Harry fell silent upon this statement. To find out about the past. Harry thought about the fake horcrux packed away in the wobbly trunk on top of the luggage rack. Had Dumbledore been planning ahead for something like this...?

“What do you think, Harry?� asked Hermione tentatively, while Ron watched him closely.

Harry retrieved the envelope and dumped the chain and letter back inside. “Dumbledore wanted me to keep it safe, and it’s going to stay safe,� he muttered.

“You’re right about that,� Ron added, shrugging, but Hermione frowned.

“Surely, there’s got to be more to it than that,� she insisted.

Harry wouldn’t look at her. Somehow he felt he had said enough. Now he wondered why he had even brought it up in the first place.

“Harry?�

“Drop it, Hermione,� interjected Ron. “Obviously, he doesn’t want to talk about it.� He cast a look in Harry’s direction, while Hermione sighed. “I hope you know we’ve got your back, and no matter what happens you can’t make us run off like some little kids.� Harry looked up at him, and Ron blushed slightly. “Well, maybe Hermione will, but not me. I’ll stand beside you against a horde of Inferi, towering Dementors, stampeding Hippogriffs--�

“...All on a day when a pretty girl isn’t smiling at you,� said Hermione scathingly.

“Even going back in time,� Ron added in a voice barely above a whisper. This was followed by a tense silence.

“Err--don’t you two have to go meet up with the other Prefects?� Harry finally asked, suddenly feeling a strong desire to be alone.

“He’s right!� cried Hermione. “Ron, we’re late!� She flung herself out of her seat and at the door. “I completely forgot it. Honestly, I can’t believe...� She was out the door before they could exactly hear who or what she couldn’t believe.

Ron shook his head as he watched her go. He cast a furtive glance in Harry’s direction, but he knew Harry didn’t intend to say anymore. “Just know,� muttered Ron, “we’re on your side, mate.�

“Ron!� Hermione suddenly appeared in the doorway once again. “Are you coming or not?�

“I’m coming, Hermione, all right?� he huffed. “Don’t get your knickers in a twist.� At that, Hermione seized him and promptly yanked him out the door, making sure he slammed his head. This triggered some less than polite words from poor Ron.

Harry shook his head and leaned back. Dumbledore had said that nothing was more important than finding and destroying the horcruxes. Harry knew it too, and yet all he had to go on was the message marked with the initials R.A.B...

But he didn’t even know who R.A.B. was.

All he did know was that this person had gotten to Slytherin’s locket before Dumbledore and him, leaving behind a message claiming the real horcrux would be destroyed as soon as possible. Harry wasn’t going to fool himself; he knew it was likely that R.A.B. had long since been dead. What about the real locket? Was it even possible it still existed? If it did, where was he going to start looking? What about the other horcruxes? Where were they? Questions like these were just a few that left him brooding about what he was going to have to do to get answers.

He was sure of one thing amidst it all; he was not going to involve anyone else. Harry sighed. Now all he had to do was to figure out how to change Ron and Hermione’s minds. Oh well, so much for being sure of anything...

Harry caught sight of the sunlight reflecting off the envelope’s metal clip. He suddenly felt disgusted and wanted to hurl it across the compartment. As if reading his thoughts, Hedwig, his snowy owl, eyed him reproachfully from her cage. An orange cat named Crookshanks looked up from his spot near the window, hissing warily at him. Ron’s feathery little owl, Pigwidgeon, tittered unhappily, sensing something was up.

“Oh, shut up,� he muttered. “It’s not as if I’ve done anything wrong.� The owls and cat looked anything but convinced. Harry stuffed the envelope into his trunk on the luggage rack, while the animals watched him suspiciously as though he were handling a murder weapon. Not until Harry sat down did any of them relax. Crookshanks, however, seemed smug as Harry wondered aloud how he was ever going to defeat Voldemort if he couldn’t even handle a few animals.

At that moment the door suddenly slid open and in popped a teenage boy and girl, loaded down with luggage. “Hi, Harry,� said Neville Longbottom, pulling his trunk over the threshold.

“Hullo, Neville, Luna.� Harry smiled at the sight of both of them, but looked warily over their shoulders.

“We’ve been looking everywhere for you, Harry,� replied Luna, letting her luggage drop into a place near Crookshanks, who spat angrily. “Ginny would be with us, but she decided to sit with some people in our year in another carriage. Did something happen between the two of you?�

Luna Lovegood always had a habit of picking up on the most uncomfortable situations. Harry had known her for nearly two years, but she still managed to disconcert him. His love life had never been his favourite subject.

Neville, seeming to notice, asked, “Where’s Ron and Hermione?�

“They’re still with the other Prefects,� Harry answered, feeling a rush of gratitude toward Neville.

“So, what are you going to do over the summer? Gram is still determined go on holiday...�

Harry sat in his seat, grateful to be speaking about something other than horcruxes until Ron and Hermione arrived. Between the five of them, the hours seemed to slip away, but Harry still tried not to think about that afternoon when he had said good-bye to not just a good friend, but to his home and the person that had eased all of his pain...


A/N: Thank you so much for being patient... This chapter is finally completed! I'm so relieved... ^_~ Hopefully the next chapter will be along a little sooner. Again, thank you for the reviews....

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to J.K. Rowling. I’m just a fan writing for her own amusement.


Chapter 3: Smash-and-Bash Meetings


I talked to absolutely no one
Couldn't keep to myself enough
And the things bottled inside had finally begun
To create so much pressure that I'd soon blow up


“Who I Am Hates Who I’ve Been�
Reliant K



Thin shafts of sunlight drifted in through curtains caught on a breeze, persistently sending shadows soaring out from under furniture. The figure in the bed, entangled in sheets, turned over to sigh and stare at the ceiling. Whether she wanted to or not, Ginny Weasley had never gotten much sleep. So, she didn’t exactly feel too surprised to be awakened by the early morning light.

Her long, red hair tumbled down her back as she stood up, looking intently past the curtains, where the clucking of chickens and bird song echoed across the garden. The sun barely rose above the trees, illuminating the sky with golden oranges and pinks mingled with soft blues and purples around its edges. Ginny smiled and wrapped her arms around herself. It was hard to believe that there was still peace somewhere, however momentary...

Ginny pulled on her dressing gown and opened her bedroom door, making her way down toward the kitchen. Ginny’s mother was already at work at the kitchen stove when she entered with the smell of eggs and bacon wafting over to her. Mrs. Weasley was frowning and ferociously stabbing her wand at the pan more than was needed.

It had been two weeks since the holidays had begun, and Ginny was glad to be at home in the Burrow with her family. However, things at the Burrow were more tense than usual with a wedding for Bill Weasley and his fiancé quickly approaching. Fleur, the bride-to-be, was as nervous as a cat about the wedding plans. After hearing Phlegm fret over the state of the garden for the seventh time, both Mrs. Weasley and Ginny herself were liable to explode. Most of Ginny’s brothers tended to avoid the mess altogether, but Ron somehow wasn’t quite as lucky, having to take the brunt of Mrs. Weasley’s constant glowering.

Even Ginny would admit that since the funeral Phlegm had improved somewhat. It wasn’t enough, however, to make her stop dreaming Bill would throw her out the door. Unfortunately, the candidate for Fleur’s replacement was no longer single. At least Tonks and Lupin could be happy together. Her family was another matter.

Even more Weasleys were expected to be coming to the Burrow along with the Delacour family. Just thinking about it gave her a headache. She doubted if her family even had the space or the money to house so many people. Then there was security for all the people at the wedding. Having such a big gathering was reckless, risking the attention of the Death Eaters or worse... She grimaced. Well, they were going to have to make it work somehow...

“Morning,� she muttered, seating herself at the table.

“Mornin’, dear,� answered Mrs. Weasley, frowning less as she sent eggs, toast, and sausage soaring on a plate to land safely in front of Ginny.

“Mum, is Dad home yet?� she asked, taking a bite of toast.

“No,� replied Mrs. Weasley angrily, “the Ministry’s keeping him on double overtime; meaning he’s working around the clock. He could scarcely handle the overtime as it is! What makes them think he can with this?� She jabbed her wand at a jug of milk and tall glass, and they imitated the plate, barely managing to clatter onto the table.

Ginny didn’t answer her mother and only stared at the meal before her. The Ministry of Magic’s workload had doubled with the death of Dumbledore. Within a few days, the attacks had tripled as the Death Eaters became bolder, moving onto more vulnerable homes and forcing people swear their allegiance to the Dark Lord. Those that gave in went on to pass supplies to You-Know-Who’s supporters, while others had even been caught trying to infiltrate the Ministry just that past week. They were gaining ground, and they knew it.

“When will Dad be home, then?� she murmured.

“I don’t know,� muttered Mrs. Weasley. Ginny nodded and finished her breakfast in silence.

Things like this were to be expected after all.

Ginny dumped her dishes in the sink and was about to sneak away when Mrs. Weasley turned on her. “Don’t even bother washing and wear old clothes today, Ginny. The gnomes are starting to think they have the run of the place. Don’t forget to wear gloves while you’re out in the garden. One tried to gnaw off my finger earlier.� Ginny nodded, groaning inwardly and silently cursing the little menaces that had the nerve to invade the garden this early in the morning.

She trudged back up the steps to her bedroom, wondering whether the constant mind-numbing spectacle of housework would ever die or, better yet, if her brothers were awake. Something like that happening unfortunately was not remotely close to possible, considering Ron could sleep through a hail storm and her oldest brothers had been out late the night before. Apparently on Order business, Ginny had heard Bill and Charlie stumble in through the door and Fleur’s ecstatic screams, overjoyed that they had come home safe and sound.

Ginny’s oldest brother had nearly been killed in an attack just a few weeks before, leaving his face ravaged. A werewolf not fully transformed had left him to die, but Madam Pomfrey had been able to nurse him back to health. Now he was back in the path of danger, working with the Order of the Phoenix much to Mrs. Weasley’s and Phlegm’s disgust. Ginny pushed those thoughts from her mind as she looked in her bedroom mirror. She twisted her hair back into a ponytail, avoiding her reflection’s eyes. What could she do about it anyway?

Absolutely nothing.

She quickly changed into a set of Muggle clothes, jeans and T-shirt. She soon found herself back downstairs. Ginny pulled on a pair of worn dragon hide gloves she found—with her mother’s insistence—and stepped out into the sunlight.

The garden, like the rest of the Burrow, was usually far from being orderly. Overgrown grass had been only centimetres away from invading the flower beds. At times it seemed twice as many weeds as plants were spilling out over the edges. Recently Mrs. Weasley had taken to wrenching the weeds free and mercilessly shaving the grass, leaving the lawn and flower beds unrecognizable. The once murky waters of the pond were now crystal clear, reflecting the gnarled, leafy branches of the trees and wispy clouds in the sky stretching overhead.

Mrs. Weasley had done her best in trying to prepare the Burrow for a wedding, and Ginny had to admit it was working. She had never seen it so perfectly clean-cut and with everything in place as she did now. Still she wasn’t even sure she wanted to see the garden like this.

Ginny ducked down under a shrub and found four pairs of beady, little eyes staring back at her. She grinned. “Hullo there,� she said in a low voice.

The garden gnomes shifted uneasily in the shade and stared at her as if they were unsure what to do. A split second later, Ginny was struggling violently with all four out from under the bush. One was swinging around haphazardly in her grasp, screaming, “Gerroff me! Gerroff me!� The others were kicking and punching at her arms. A third had managed to wriggle around until he ended upside down and purple-faced, letting Ginny know what he thought about her with his fingers.

Almost immediately Ginny swung one gnome around in the air and hurled him over the hedge into the neighbouring fields. The other three were shortly found gliding through the air, screaming at the top of their lungs with eyes popping out of their sockets. Cackling could be heard in front of the peony bushes, where other creatures resembling bald, brown potatoes with stubby legs had gathered to watch to the show.

Ginny turned around and rolled her eyes. Could they be anymore stupid? Before long, the garden was filled with cursing and angry shouts as the gnomes scrambled away, only to be colliding face first with the ground a field away.

As she worked, Ginny let her mind wander. She was having a hard time lately with keeping her voice alive and her thoughts silent. Yet no matter how hard she tried, she caught herself thinking and even worrying about what was happening outside the Burrow and…to Harry.

Ginny instinctively squelched the thought. There was no use in thinking about things like that. Laughing and smiling was what made things possible. Worrying was not acceptable. She whirled around a gnome by its legs and chucked it as hard as she could, making white light blaze in its vision. Besides Harry was probably fine. Another gnome was in her hand before she knew it and ended up smashing into the garden wall. It slid down the surface slowly and flipped over onto the ground, lying flat on its back.

She swore aloud as she marched up to the gnome and picked it up, dropping it on the other side of the hedge. Ginny felt a guilty twinge as she turned away, wishing again that her brothers were awake to help her. It wasn’t like her to act like this or for her aim to go so awry. She was going to go mad soon. She was sure of it.

Ginny ripped her gloves off and threw them onto the ground in frustration. She was still gentle in the way she handled the rest of the gnomes, but apparently she was too gentle. As soon as one sensed weakness, it dug sharp teeth into her fingers. Ginny yelped in surprise, and the gnome was catapulted into the sky, his shouts deafening in the distance. This was exactly why she needed help.

“What the—�

Ginny spun around in time to see the gnome ram head first into a boy, ploughing him over.

“Are you all right?� she screamed, rushing over to him. He was sprawled across the grass, groaning with what appeared to be a black eye. The gnome was laid out nearby. Ginny cursed repeatedly under her breath. “I’m so sorry! I never meant for this to happen. I’m so sorry!�

“Don’t worry about it,� he somehow managed to say.

She reached for his hand and pulled him up, while his other hand clamped tight over his eye. As he stood, Ginny barely registered how he towered over her as she struggled with him to the back door. She continued to apologize profusely all the way to the door. Thankfully, Mrs. Weasley was all ready there, searching for the source of all the commotion.

“Ginny, what happened?� she asked.

“He was walloped by a flying gnome thanks to me,� Ginny answered.

“Well, bring him in,� Mrs. Weasley said with a sigh. “Much worse things have happened. Is everything mostly doing okay, dear?� The boy nodded dimly and grimaced.

“Yeah, I’m doing fine,� he replied. “This isn’t the first time I’ve had a black eye.�

“Well, sit down,� Mrs. Weasley directed as they entered the kitchen. Ginny helped the boy into a seat at the table as Mrs. Weasley rummaged through the cabinets for something to ease his pain.

A tall woman with blonde hair and turquoise eyes suddenly entered the room, looking around as she said, “You’ve got a wonderful home, Molly. I love what you’ve done with the place—� She suddenly halted in mid step and stared at the kitchen table, where Ginny and the boy were seated. “What happened?� She rushed over to them.

“Nothing, Mum,� muttered the boy. “Don’t worry about it. It was an accident…� The woman pried the boy’s hand away to reveal dark, swelling skin around a red eye.

“‘Nothing’?� repeated the woman. “A black eye is ‘nothing’?�

“Compared to losing an arm?� snapped the boy. “Yes!�

The woman looked intently at her son and shook her head. She turned to Ginny and asked, “Can you explain to me what happened?�

“I….accidentally sent a gnome flying into his face,� muttered Ginny, flushing and fighting the urge to hide under the table. “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean for it to happen. Err…� She stopped short and nervously inspected her fingernails under the table.

“You can’t shut up for a minute about it, can you?� Ginny looked up, taken aback to see the boy, half smiling, half grimacing at her. “I already told you didn’t do anything. Don’t worry about it.�

Ginny stopped and looked at him more closely. There was something about him that was familiar. Yet no matter how much she tried, she couldn’t place it. For what she knew, she could have met him before. His hair was dark unlike his mother’s, but both his eyes would have been the same shade of turquoise if one hadn’t been bruised so roughly.

“I can take care of him, Molly,� stated the boy’s mother, watching as Mrs. Weasley rearranged her entire kitchen. “You don’t have to go through all of this.�

“Here, take this,� said Mrs. Weasley, indicating a small tube in her hand. “My sons invented it. Just apply it around his eye, and it’ll be gone in a few hours.�

“Thank you so much,� the woman answered, smiling.

“Don’t worry about it, dear,� replied Mrs. Weasley. “After all, you’re our guest.�

The boy gritted his teeth as his mother rubbed the ointment around his eye. Ginny silently watched them, still trying to place where she had seen the son before. Mrs. Weasley, in the meantime, was setting plates overloaded with food down on the table in front of the two strangers. She suddenly drew up a chair at the table to sit beside Ginny.

“I don’t know if you’ve met my youngest yet, Gemma,� remarked Mrs. Weasley, motioning to her daughter. “This is Ginny, and she’ll be sixteen this August. Ginny, this is Gemma Peterson and her son Gryffin. Gemma teaches overseas in the States.� A flash of comprehension overwhelmed Ginny as she instantly remembered meeting a dark-haired boy near Dumbledore’s tomb. Her eyes widened.

“We’ve met before,� explained Gryffin. He tossed her another painful smile.

“Well, I certainly haven’t,� replied Gemma, turning to look at Ginny more closely. “It’s nice to meet you. I would shake your hand, but my hands are sort of busy at the moment.�

Listening to them both made Ginny wonder why she hadn’t realized who Gryffin was before. Both Gemma and he had American accents with Gryffin’s vaguely stronger than his mother’s. Then there was that boy’s smile that made her want to look away for some reason that Ginny just couldn’t understand.

“Hi,� she answered, returning the woman’s smile. “I hope you like it here, and just so you know, I’m not usually on a homicidal rampage, chucking gnomes at people that pass by.�

Gemma, caught off guard, suddenly burst out laughing. “Don’t worry. I believe you.� She gave her son a stern look. “Gryffin just has a habit of walking into trouble.� Gryffin, however, remained silent in his chair as Gemma twisted the cap back onto the tube.

“What brings you here?� asked Ginny.

“I invited them,� Mrs. Weasley said shortly. “Gemma and I have business to attend to--that’s all you need to know.� Ginny rolled her eyes at the snapping edge in her mother’s voice.

“What?� she muttered. “Is Gemma going to be joining the Order?� Mrs. Weasley looked irritated, yet not with the least bit of surprise in her eyes, but Gemma was astounded. Ginny caught Gryffin letting out something that was suspiciously like a snort that no else heard.

“If you’re so clever, you should know,� chided Mrs. Weasley, grumpily. “Yes, she might be joining the Order. As I said before, that is none of your concern.�

Ginny bit down her retort and smiled cheekily at her mother, but the abrupt upheaval in her chest continued to burn beneath her skin. Mrs. Weasley had always been protective of her youngest, and Ginny had always wondered how different things would have been if she had been born a boy. Bill, Charlie, Fred, George, Ron, even stupid Percy—all had been given more scope than she had ever had.

When she was smaller, Ginny had hung on her mother’s apron strings in the garden, watching wide-eyed as her older brothers climbed up the crumbling wall. Mrs. Weasley was bent over checking her shrubs as Charlie stood on his hands and winked at her. Fred was purposely wobbling back and forth on a loose brick, grinning foolishly as George poked the wrong end of his mother’s wand at the bent branches of the old, crooked tree.

She giggled, and Mrs. Weasley immediately turned her head. All three boys were petrified as Mrs. Weasley advanced toward them with an expression that would have a blind man backing away in terror. Charlie was the first to move, landing back on his feet and wordlessly clambering down. Shaking, Fred and George followed close behind, back to the house with Mrs. Weasley bringing up the rear. As her mother marched forward, Ginny hesitated, feeling the heat rising off her in waves. The back door slammed shut, and all at once, the whole house seemed to jump a metre into the air.

Little Ginny was left standing uncertainly outside, all alone. Yet there was her mother’s wand, lying in the grass where George had dropped it. She warily approached, remembering what could happen with magic—all the amazing things she had seen her mother do. Then again, things could turn out badly. What if she left it near the big wall? Couldn’t something even worse happen? Reaching out a small hand, she grabbed the wand.

Somebody snatched the wand from her, seizing a hold on her wrist. Alarmed, Ginny looked up and saw Percy yelling at her and dragging her back into the house. She kicked, shrieked, and cried, but she was still forced inside, where she was sent to bed without supper.

Ginny had never meant to use to the wand, but she was still suspected of it, despite her bitter tears. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were convinced that she would copy every move her brothers made and were determined that she was as unlike them as possible. Soon Ginny was toddling along on top of the garden wall and effortlessly stand on her hands. She might have continued to do it if it hadn’t been for Bill begging her not to.

She bit her lip and searched for the kitchen window from her chair. The bright sunlight that streamed through seemed to be mocking her. Suddenly feeling restless, Ginny got up from her seat.
“Mum, I’m going to go finish de-gnoming the garden,� she said. “I’ll be back in soon.� She could feel her mother’s exasperated gaze on her back as she disappeared outside.

She ambled past the shrubs and sank into the shade beneath the trees. She felt stupid and helpless as she lay there, staring up into the sun-drenched leaves. Ginny was capable of doing anything her brothers could do. Her parents knew that. How many times had she proven that she could take care of herself? More importantly, would they ever trust her with something more important than household chores? She felt a sour feeling rise in her stomach. How could she ever help him if it was like this?

A shadow soon crossed her line of sight, and it took a moment for Ginny to realize that she was looking up into the face of Gryffin Peterson. He stood there silently as if waiting for her to speak.

“Hi,� she greeted him with a slow smile. “I didn’t expect you to come out here.� There was a slight pause.

“Do you need help?� asked Gryffin in a steady voice.

“With what?�

“The gnomes.�

“Oh,� she replied. She gawked at him, unsure of what to say. Finally, Ginny just shrugged her shoulders. “Why not?�

Gryffin gave her an awkward smile and answered, “Sounds good to me.�


A/N: Chapter Three is finally up! Woohoo! Thank you so much for reading so far. I'm sorry if this chapter is long and boring, but I needed to develop the characters before the real action started. I hope you like it! If you have anything to say, you're welcome to leave a review. Any advice is welcome! ;)