Chapter One

The thin, bespectacled boy lay reclining, staring up at the ceiling. In the corner, the alarm clock flashed midnight in bold, red numbers. Harry Potter blinked at it, uncomprehending.

He had been trapped in his upstairs bedroom- otherwise known as his cousin’s former second bedroom. His phobic aunt and uncle only gave the room to their nephew out of fear that he would perform magic on them or their son.

There had been a nasty event several years before involving Harry’s cousin, Dudley Dursley, and a pig’s tail. It was an incident where he had been guilty by association, even though he hadn't actually performed the spell. Strictly speaking, Harry wasn’t allowed to do magic outside of school at the time.

This summer, however, he was. Due to the rise of Voldemort, previously underage wizards were now allowed to perform magic outside of school. It didn’t matter to him now, although he and his friends had been anxiously awaiting such perks for ages. Nothing that used to matter to him seemed important anymore. His life was divided into the time before his godfather’s death, and after.

He sighed heavily as he flicked his lighted wand through the air, tracing naughty words above him. Each stroke left a trail like a comet. It was a new moon, and an utterly black night crept into his bedroom, effectively stifling what energy was left in the bare light bulb hanging off of the ceiling. Harry didn’t mind. The same thick shroud coloured his thoughts and emotions.

Several books lay across the floor in his room, among numerous other items forgotten or uncared for. All were on the subject of Quidditch, which was his favourite sport and the only one he was any good at. They all went unread; he hadn't been able to enjoy them lately. To anyone else, he had only been at the Dursleys’ a short time, but to Harry it felt like it had been centuries. He looked old. It was as if time was the only one who kept him company, paling his complexion and deepening his eyes. He now had the gaunt look of a starving child who has known only misery. It was a long stretch from the emotionally battered, but generally happy boy everyone knew towards the end of last term.

As he began writing ‘F-U-‘, there was a light rapping on the window. Sluggishly, Harry rolled over and saw a snowy white owl perched on the windowsill outside. “Hedwig!� said Harry, feeling slightly uplifted.

When he pushed out the glass pane, she quickly flew in. The owl promptly dropped the newspaper and letter she was carrying, and flew over to her cage. Rustling her feathers, she looked dolefully at Harry. “Well, eat up. You’ve been gone a while,� he said, and strode over to her dropped cargo on his bed. He decided to read the letter first.

Dear Harry,
I am glad to hear that you and They-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named haven’t had any confrontations. However, it might be a good idea to move about for a bit of fresh air. It may do you some good. Don’t get angry, it’s just a thought.

Everyone writes and asks about you. We all care. Perhaps you’re not ready to talk at the moment, but we will listen whenever you are ready. Ron says he expects to see you soon, so that’s certainly some good news! Some celebrations might be in line when we see you.

Love From,
Hermione

P.S. I got my O.W.L.s back yesterday. I’ve got all O’s! Isn’t that wonderful? Mum and Dad have decided to take me on a holiday to Greece as a reward. We have family there, so that will be fun as well. I hope to see you as soon as possible!

“Let’s talk about it,� mimicked Harry. “Why does everyone want me to talk?� he asked himself as he fell back onto the bed. "How can I talk? They wouldn't really understand anyway. This is my burden. O.W.L.s? Who the hell cares about test scores at a time like this?" he thought. Harry was always in a perpetual state of angst these days and didn’t know how to crawl out of it.

A small voice in his head, sounding a lot like his good friend Hermione’s, gently admonished him for being angry. She’s just trying to help. She’s trying to take your mind off of Sirius.

He looked curiously down at Hermione's crumpled letter, tightly clutched in his fist. When did that happen?

He got a little something in his eye as he straightened out the letter, and put it in the top drawer with the others. He didn't know when she would be off for vacation, so he decided to wait to write her back. Usually, he did so immediately. At the end of last term, Mad-Eye Moody threatened the Dursleys with harm if the Order didn't hear from Harry often.

There were quite a few letters. Some were from various Weasley family members. Some were from his two best friends, Ron and Hermione. The rest were from various members of the Order of the Phoenix, a group that worked against the most evil wizard on earth, Lord Voldemort (or “You-Know-Who� to most of the magical world). All offered help, laughter, comfort, and sympathy. At the end of last term, Harry lost his godfather, whom he loved dearly as both friend and surrogate father.

Sirius died in a dueling battle with a Death Eater, a follower of Voldemort. Harry was having a hard time dealing with the fact that he had led his godfather to his doom. He knew he would probably never fully forgive himself.

It happened only weeks ago, Harry remembered with a pang. "It’s my fault you died...� he whispered into the cold night. He felt like crying, but couldn’t. He was tired of the sadness.

He lay there for a moment, recalling the moment of his death, and shaking slightly with pain. In his mind’s eye, he watched as Sirius fell back through that mysterious archway; his once handsome face agape with shock.

Even as Harry agonized over his loss, he couldn’t resist the vague, nagging feelings about the archway. He had heard voices from the other side. His classmate, Luna, said she heard it too. Did falling through really mean death?

As ideas pestered his exhausted emotions, he eventually realized he had been staring at Hedwig. She had finished her meal and was gazing intently back at Harry.

“Hello, old girl,� Harry said as he stood. He absently began scratching her neck the way she liked and then realized he hadn’t yet looked at the newspaper lying on his bed. “DAILY PROPHET,� it barked out in blocked letters across the top.

Last summer, Harry would periodically become enraged because he wasn’t privy to all of the news, as his friends were. This summer, he hoped there would be more information included within the folding pages. The Order could not deal out crucial intelligence, so the paper was his only source.

At least Hermione wasn't at headquarters. She could at least give him more personally relevant information.

It was depressing to look at the front page. Instead of covering different stories as usual, the writers had taken to putting a full obituary on the front page every day. When the word finally spread about Lord Voldemort’s return, he and his followers pulled down all barriers, and were killing several wizards and Muggles every day.

Harry wanted to throw it down. All those pictures of people smiling, winking, and all the time moving toward their doom depressed him. “Disgusting,� he growled.

As unpleasant as the task was, however, he had to see. He had to make sure it was no one he knew. It was bound to happen one day. However, each day that passed he was able to think to himself, "Not today."

Fortunately, today, all the named dead were unfamiliar to him. He hastily refolded the paper and threw it in the bin. He didn't care to read the rest today. Another day was hard fought and won. He’d made it through one more time. Grief overtook him often, but each minute was a triumph over the death that shadowed him. He decided he would not succumb, and he would not give another friend over so carelessly if he could possibly stop it.

These days he slept a lot. What energy he gained from moving around quickly diminished, and again he collapsed onto his bed. He watched the cracks in the wall until they broke open to reveal dreams of the archway and the only father he had ever known.

Chapter Two


Harry awoke with a start. What was happening in his mind was not dreaming. Like a wooden dummy, he was being forced to relive all of his most terrible memories. Lord Voldemort was still controlling his thoughts, he knew. The scar he'd received as a baby was from a killing curse. Instead, it rebounded onto the Dark Lord, and Lord Voldemort nearly died himself. Unfortunately, because the murderous lord still lived, there was a deep connection between the two that surpassed the knowledge of even the most wizened old wizards.

Only last year, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, did Harry find out Voldemort could access his mind at times when Harry’s defenses were lowered. Last night, Harry could hear him laughing, mocking his tormenting memories.

Harry’s scar prickled. “I sure could use Mum or Dad right now,� he mumbled.

At least he felt he could handle these dreams- if that was what they could be called. It was almost as if dementors surrounded him whenever he fell off to sleep, sucking the happiness from the room, and forcing him to remember- with all of the inherent imagery- all of his most terrible experiences. He’s just trying to get to you, to hurt you however he can. Block him out! the Hermione-like voice urged.

It may have been easier if Harry had actually tried to learn Occlumency last year. Yet, how could he have been expected to clear his mind of emotion when Snape was deliberately making it difficult? “Damned Snape,� cursed Harry under his breath.

It was only after a moment of staring at the ceiling, that he realized he had been talking to himself an awful lot lately. A rare shade of a smile twitched at the corners of his mouth. Sirius would have thought it was hilarious. Sirius would also have known how Harry felt, being cooped up all of the time. Ability to perform magic was cutting into his social life on Privet Drive. Of course, the kindly snoops of Privet Drive all thought Harry was a criminal, because the Dursleys didn’t want anyone to know Harry was a wizard.

The only difference between Sirius’ situation and his was that his godfather WANTED to get out. Harry didn’t care. He was as haunted inside as he was out. Plus, the sun would probably burn his retinas, as he hadn’t had a breath of fresh air in some time.

Harry grudgingly let his feet slip to the floor, but when he tried to stand, his feet rolled over something hard, and he fell with a mighty crash to the floor. “Ouch� was an understatement. He was inspecting his bodily damage when an almighty roar rose outside his bedroom door. “You! You sniveling little criminal! What the hell are you doing? You nearly woke up Dudley-“

Harry snorted while he slipped on his glasses. Wild centaurs couldn’t have woken up his dolt of a cousin, Dudley.

“You know he has a boxing competition! We should have let him practice on you . . . yes! That’s what we’ll do.�

“That’d be a bit difficult-“

“What do you mean, difficult?�

“Well, he has no head. He made me angry last night, you see, and-“ he said, quite conversationally.

“WHAT?�

“On second thought, his aim is bad enough with his head. Maybe it has improved without it. You know how his brain has been holding him back. I suppose I’d better bring my wand to fight against such a strong, headless adversary.�

“Don’t you talk about your . . . freak equipment! I’ll have you thrown out of this house!�

Harry only laughed in reply. This sent Uncle Vernon into a wild frenzy, spitting out all sorts of obscenities. Eventually, he ran out of steam, and settled for raging at Petunia downstairs.

Lately, he'd been venting his fury on the Dursleys. They so rarely actually spoke to him, so the moment they did, he hit them with every taunt in his arsenal.

With his anger still pulsing, Harry went over to the mirror. The knob on the bed had smacked him right in the eye. At least he didn’t have his glasses on at the time. His right butt cheek seemed to have suffered a similar fate as his eye. There would surely be bruising.

Harry groaned. He didn’t want to explain to anyone how he slipped- he looked to the floor to find his broom sitting amongst other items uncared for, looking not at all disheveled. Oh well thought Harry. At least the Dursleys are too afraid to come in my room, let alone be close enough to see my eye.

Mad-Eye Moody, a suspicious ex-Auror and a current member of the Order of the Phoenix, would probably curse Dudley, Vernon and Petunia to Hades if he thought they gave him a black eye. So the morning wasn’t a loss after all.

Thinking about Moody reminded Harry that he needed to write the Order and let them know everything was all right, while it still was.

Just as he began to unroll a bit of parchment, there was a loud “thunk!� at the window. A generic-looking tiny brown owl fluttered there. He was overly excited, and just a little stupid. “Pig!� he started as he went to open the window. “I wasn’t expecting you for a couple days.�

Harry allowed Pig to eat at Hedwig’s dish. It was something Harry’s owl was never thrilled about. She squawked her displeasure, but moved to the side nevertheless.

Harry opened the letter he had retrieved from the tiny owl, and plopped down on his littered floor to read the letter.

-Be ready at 5 O’clock tonight.-

A true smile broke across young Potter’s face for the first time in weeks. He was leaving Privet Drive- the setting of all of his terrible childhood memories- and much sooner than expected. Although, remembered Harry, Hermione did mention something like that in her letter the day before. He was so happy, he thought the slice of bread Aunt Petunia left under the door for breakfast looked positively appetizing. "Not even a speck of mold!" he said to himself, happily.

While scarfing the food with utmost indecency, he looked again at the letter. It was Ron’s handwriting, of course. He couldn’t wait to be back with his good friends. Wait! he thought, It doesn’t say anything about the Dursleys. Are they going to be here?

The thought of another confrontation between the Dursleys and the magical world they tried so hard to ignore wasn’t pleasant. He didn’t really care about how the Dursleys felt, or how frightened they would undoubtedly be. He only didn’t want them to insult any of his friends.

It was already late morning, judging by the rumble of Saturday activity occurring outdoors. Privet Drive was nestled in a very quiet, standard neighborhood. Men were washing their two cars while their 1.2 kids ran around screaming. Wives were sipping tea in the shade, admiring the view. Harry wished things were so simple for him, but he mustn’t think about that. On to happier thoughts . . . I’m leaving!

Harry decided he’d better send Pig on his way back to his friend, Ron. He stood and found an old tissue clinging to his bottom. “Gross!� he said, and tossed it on the floor. Looking around the trashed room, he thought it might be quite a task to pack, and so, got started early.

Chapter Three

Several hours - and many sticky tissues - later, Harry found himself sitting on his old, beaten mattress. The sun was still three quarters of the way through the sky so he thought five o’clock must have been quickly approaching. He rather resented going downstairs. It was something he had managed to avoid thus far. “Well, here goes,� he sighed, fighting the excitement welling in his abdomen. He wondered how Uncle Vernon would negotiate the feelings of elation that Harry was leaving and the anger at being in the presence of wizards.

“What are you doing down here?� bellowed Dudley (Diddykins to his mother). He had heard the horrendous thunk, thunk, thunkof Harry’s trunk coming down the stairs. Harry was saved from comment when Hedwig, stuffed into her cage, picked that moment to beat her snowy wings and screech in an attempt to get out. Dudley’s face blanched at the bird, who seemed to be more than a little mad, and he ran from the stairs.

Harry chuckled. Ever since Dudley had watched the movie The Birds a few weeks before, he'd been even more frightened of Harry's powder-white owl.

As Harry rounded the corner, his aunt, uncle and cousin were all standing together behind the couch, no doubt to put a bit of distance between them and the boy. All eyes were narrowed. “We’d prefer that you stay in your room,� said Vernon bluntly. He seemed to register something a minute later and continued. “Why is your trunk packed?�

Harry didn’t mistake Vernon’s question for anything except suppressed glee. Harry had never left this early. However, they didn’t want him there as much as Harry didn’t want to be there. “Well, I decided to move into the kitchen, you see-“

“Oh no you don’t!� screamed Petunia. Everyone knew the kitchen was still Dudley’s favorite room.

“I was kidding you. I’m leaving, in case you couldn’t tell by my packed trunk and the fact that I’m carrying my owl in a cage,� said Harry, annoyed with how slow they were to catch on.

Vernon’s eyes bulged, which was rather disquieting because his eyes were rimmed with red and bloodshot. “They’re . . . No! They’re not coming here!�

“Well, yes,� replied Harry coolly. “Seeing as how I’m here and they’re coming to get me. Hmm," he said, screwing up his face. �Yep, makes sense to me.�

“Don’t you get smart with me, boy. If your aunt and I didn’t generously take you in, you’d be-“

“Dead, yes, I know. Big deal.�

Vernon seemed shocked at such a casual answer. Harry’s eyes met Petunia’s and for an instant he thought he saw sadness in her eyes. Just then a hard, echoing knock came from the back door in the kitchen. Vernon set his jaw- Harry could almost hear his teeth grind- and strode pompously toward the door. As soon as he unlatched the lock the door burst inward and in streamed four fully-grown wizards: Moody (with his roving magical eye), Tonks (who was looking quite ravishing with long blond hair and purple eyes), Kingsley (regal as always), and Arthur (looking nervous and apologetic).

Arthur Weasley stuck out his hand. “Mr. Dursley. We meet again. Sorry for the rush. We didn’t want to be seen and cause a commotion.�

Harry felt Moody’s eye on him.

The Dursleys were shocked into silence. Mr. Weasley seemed to be making a determined attempt to be pleasant to the Dursleys. The last time he was there he blew their fireplace all over the living room. However, in his defense, that was an accident.

“It’s no problem, Mr. Weasley,� Harry said. “Let’s just go.�

“Not just yet, Harry,� said Tonks. Harry groaned, waiting to witness another scene.

Moody, the one who threatened Vernon the most, stepped forward. “Why does Harry have a black eye?� he growled.

“What? I have no idea!�

Harry desperately wanted to see Moody set his uncle straight, but as he wanted to leave, he opted for the truth. “I fell earlier, Professor. The Dursleys didn’t do anything.�

“He’d better not be lying, Dursley. You and I don’t like each other much, “Moody growled. Dudley scoffed at this and Moody glared at him before continuing. “But there are things more important than your animosity. I’ll put it simply: The more helpful you are to our cause, the safer your family will be. Desperate times call for desperate measures.�

Vernon turned a pretty shade of puce. “You want MY help? You threaten my family in the first place by dumping HIM on my doorstep, and then try to say you can save me from the danger he brings us?�

“Enough, Dursley,� Kingsley said in a booming voice. “We think it’s time you recognize our kind and stop unleashing your misplaced anger on Harry.�

Petunia started, as if to say something, but then the sour look quickly returned to her face as Vernon bellowed, “GET OUT!�

Harry could tell his uncle would love to resort to physical assault at this point, but he knew he would not win against wizards. He contented himself with screaming over their shoulders while Mr. Weasley grabbed Hedwig’s cage. Harry grabbed the handle of his trunk, and the group scuttled into the back yard. The door slammed behind their backs. Fortunately they were safe from prying eyes by the thick shadows and the tall fence Vernon installed.

“I’m sure glad I made my backside small today,� said Tonks. “That door would have taken it right off!�

“This is no time for humor,� growled Moody. “These are dangerous times. Harry, have you learned how to Apparate yet?�

His blank look was answer enough. “Thought as much,� Mad-Eye grunted. “Over to the Frisbee then.�

The truth was Harry had read the Apparition Guide, but the words left only the vaguest impression on his mind. He was always thinking. . . about other matters.

“Ten seconds to go,� said Arthur, looking at his watch. “And three- two- one-“

The familiar feeling of a hook behind his navel took hold and off Harry flew through space.

Chapter Four

Harry found himself lying on a floor. Above him, he saw only the wooden beams of the ceiling. When he heard Fred and George’s raucous laughter, he rolled over to see what was going on. The sight of Ron’s face was immeasurably hilarious.

As it turned out, Harry had lost his grip on his trunk and, when they arrived at their destination, it took aim at Ron. It ended up flying into the bench at the table, knocking over Ron, who was holding some kind of stinking liquid. This liquid poured all over him and the surrounding floor emitting fumes that were so strong, they were visible.

“Oh! Revolting!� shouted Ron.

Harry scanned the kitchen of 12 Grimmauld Place and his stomach dropped. Somehow, he hadn’t really expected to arrive here but, after a moment of thought, it made sense. Voldemort was still alive, and the Order was still active. It was only Harry’s world that seemed to have ended. Then Harry stopped the thought. I can’t keep doing this, he reflected. I’m still here for a reason. I have a job to do.

Only then did he notice the kitchen was full of people he cared about. Fred and George were rolling on the floor in silent laughter while Ron was screaming at them to shut it. Ginny was doubled over in silent giggles. Mrs. Weasley, Ron’s mum, rushed over and was attempting to clean him up, scolding her children for poking fun. “Honestly!� she huffed in exasperation. “I thought you lot had grown up a bit. Apparently, I’m mistaken! No one has even bothered to welcome Harry!�

She was right, but Harry didn’t care. Besides, no one really made a fuss about his arrival. Even his travelling companions had already settled down at the table, engaged in a deep, private discussion.

“Sorry, Harry,� said Ginny, who got up from her seat to give him a close hug. “It’s just that . . . well, look at him!�

When she pulled away, everyone in the room was looking at Harry, all with varying expressions of anger. “What?� he asked.

“Who gave you that black eye?� asked Mrs. Weasley, her eyes flashing.

“Yeah, nice shiner!� said George.

Harry only smiled, “Well, if you must know, my bed.�

Fred laughed, “Yeah, things get a little rough in my bed too.�

“Fred!� scolded Mrs. Weasley.

“I’d get up, but there’s sludge all over me,� Ron said while scrunching his nose.

“It’s not sludge!� said Mrs. Weasley, hurt. “It’s a very delicious gravy!�

“Oh!� said Tonks, pulling away from her conversation momentarily. “I thought it was Doxy poison.� She had a twitch at the corner of her mouth.

“Well then, I suppose no one wants dinner!� Molly threatened.

There were murmured apologies. Everyone knew Mrs. Weasley was an excellent cook. “All right then,� she said, satisfied. “Welcome, Harry,� she grinned and pulled him into a hug.

Fred and George were waiting for her to move. “Great to see you, Harry.�

“Yeah, it was getting a bit dull without you,� George said while shaking his hand.

“Well, George, we had better get going.�

“Too true. See you, Harry!�

“What’s the rush?� Harry asked.

“Oh, they’re just up to the usual. You know, joke shop stuff,� said Ron, taking off his soiled shirt. “They’re trying to find a new way to cheat on tests,� he whispered conspiratorially.

Ginny leaned over to join their conversation. “Yes, but Mum’s been obliterating their work every night, so she thinks they’re having to start over every day. They’ve been making loads of copies, though, so it doesn’t matter,� she said and smiled.

Harry couldn’t help but notice that Ginny was turning out to be quite pretty. Her long, red hair had begun to get a curl at the end, among other changes he didn’t want to think about at the moment. Ginny blushed lightly at the look Harry was giving her.

“So, um, did you notice Ron’s new look,� she asked quickly.

“Ginny, will you stop talking about that?� Ron said, obviously annoyed. “I’m sick of it!�

“Well, Ron,� said Harry. “You do look . . . er . . . have you been working out?� he asked, holding back a snicker.

“Well, I’ve been practicing keeping every day-“

“I catch him doing sit-ups and push-ups. Don’t let him lie to you,� she laughed.

Ron turned a lovely rosy shade. “It’s to improve my game!�

“Sure,� she smirked. She said to Harry under her breath, “If the game involved catching a certain someone we know, instead of a Quaffle.�

Ron made to lunge at her, but she quickly side-stepped him and ran over to sit next to Tonks. The members of the order were immersed in a private conversation and stopped immediately when Ginny sat with them.

“Ron?� said Mrs. Weasley, “Why don’t you and Harry go upstairs to change and wash for dinner?�

As they trudged into the bedroom, with Harry’s trunk and cage in tow, a silence fell over them. The last time Harry was in this house and in this room, it was still Sirius’ home. He was alive and his moody, yet vibrant self was talking, laughing, walking around like any other. Harry’s throat tightened.

He also distinctly felt a presence in the empty portrait. No doubt Phineas Nigellus reported his arrival to Dumbledore and even now, was paying close attention.

Ron looked at a loss for words. He had a good idea of what was going through Harry’s mind and thought it best to stay quiet. He didn’t know what to say anyway. He hadn’t talked about what happened that night in the Department of Mysteries. It was a sore subject for everyone, but it had to eventually be broached or there would never again be the level of comfort the close friends had enjoyed for so many years. “So . . . how was your summer?�

For a moment, Harry was disgusted with Ron. It must have shown in his face, because Ron spoke again. “I - look. Before you get mad, I want you to know that I’m sorry for- for everything. You don’t have to talk about it. I guess you’ll tell me when you want to,� he said, looking defeated.

Harry’s anger died as quickly as it had risen. “I know. Can we talk about something else?�

“O.W.L.s?� Ron asked with a wry grin.

“Nothing yet, actually,� he replied.

“That’s strange . . .�

“Not if Dumbledore knew I would be coming here soon. He probably didn’t want to upset the Dursley’s by summoning owls to poop all over his car. By the way, why is everyone being so nice to them lately? Not blowing up their living room? Speaking cordially? It’s disgusting!�

Ron shrugged. “Your guess is as good as mine, mate. Maybe they think they’re people.�

Harry laughed. Ron continued, “Your scores should be arriving sometime soon, then. Yep . . . scores,� Ron deliberately hesitated.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Ok, what did you get?�

“Passed them all!� he beamed.

Harry was quite surprised. “All of them? Wow, that’s really - “

“Well, all except Divination, but I didn't exactly have a talent for the crystal ball or anything. Then there was History of Magic. We slept through his classes anyway. What could anyone expect, with that drone? I suppose we could have tried to stay awake sometimes, eh?�

“Imagine Hermione’s face if she heard you say that.� They both laughed. Ron did an excellent impression of her face lit up with schoolwork fervour.

A shock went through Harry’s mind. Ron’s imitation of Hermione reminded him of the look on his face, right before many tiny brains began to wrap their tentacles around his body. “Ron, what happened to you that night?� he asked with a sinking feeling. Dumbledore had told him that the scarring from the incident would go much deeper than skin.

“Boys!� they heard from the bottom of the stairs, “Hurry up and get down here. Everyone’s waiting on you!�

Mrs. Weasley was notoriously impatient. Ron seemed to be thankful of the interruption, and so Harry took the hint. Ron changed into a stunning jeans and t-shirt ensemble, and gestured toward the door. "Shall we go?"

The boys headed downstairs.

Chapter Five

Wafting through the kitchen was the mouth-watering scent of potatoes and steak. “Mrs. Weasley, that smells great!� Harry complimented.

“It’s nice to know someone appreciates my cooking!� she huffed. She was still miffed about the stinking "gravy" incident.

Mr. Weasley sought to console her. “Molly, Darling, you’re a wonderful cook. We all appreciate the things you do for us.�

She rewarded him with a warm smile as she set the food on the table. Fred and George were back, and hungry, if the greedy looks on their faces were anything to go by. Lupin said, “Accio Butterbeer!� and a steamy, hot cup of the brew flew to the front of each plate. As soon as Molly was settled into her seat everyone started to eat.

Harry suddenly felt more at home than he had in quite some time. He looked at his family- his real family- as they gracelessly shovelled food into their mouths. Moody’s magical eye was on him and he suddenly felt uncomfortable. Harry tucked into his food and didn’t come up for air until half an hour later.

Tonks asked Molly what the unusual spice on the potatoes was. “A great chef never tells her secrets,� she boasted, and with a wave of her wand said a charm to refill everyone’s glasses.

Fred leaned towards Harry. “We were experimenting with dragon claw, hoping to get some burn. It didn’t combust very well but it turned out to have a nutty taste, so we gave it to Mum.�

“But we told her it was Bungledek weed,� winked George, and resumed his gorging.

“So business is good?� Harry asked.

“Very good. We have to supply the demand and the demand is great, my friend.�

“Yeah,� said George, “and we found that our little brother’s wardrobe demanded an update, so we gave him a load of new clothes.�

“That was very generous of you,� smiled Harry.

“Now you can go out and impress the ladies, eh, Ronny?�

Ron blushed. “Shut up.�

“Watch out! Hormones raging!�

The Weasley’s had never had much money through the years. Arthur Weasley’s job at the Ministry of Magic never paid too well. Since the twins started up Weasley’s Wizard Weezes in Diagon Alley a bit more money was available to them. Contrary to what they always said about Ron, and their incessant teasing, they liked him. Enough, apparently, to buy him more new clothes. The hand-me-downs he usually wore were nearly three inches too short. Fortunately for Ron, old, grungy t-shirts were now in style, so he didn’t have any need for more.


An occasional loud burp punctured the contented air around Grimmauld Place. The house looked nothing like it did when Harry first arrived there last year. It looked like a home, and he felt quite safe thanks to all of the protective spells cast on the house. Just then, Harry noticed something. “Where is Kreacher?�

Fred spoke up first. “He was so excited about-“

Arthur interrupted with, “He’s gone.�


“Where did he go?� asked Harry, though Kreacher’s absence was no loss, really.

“He died. Heart attack,� said Arthur, just as quickly.

Everyone looked at Mr. Weasley and looked down. It was a lie. Harry didn’t care much. The house elf was the most foul creature of his kind that Harry had the misfortune to meet. Instead of helping Sirius while he was living there the last school year, he only made life more miserable for Harry’s godfather. Kreacher didn’t have anything nice to say to the rest of the house’s occupants either.

“So, what’s new?� asked Harry.

Everyone visibly relaxed with the subject change. Ginny talked about Dean Thomas, her current boyfriend. He was in Harry’s year, sharing a room with him and Ron at Hogwarts. It was bound to be an uncomfortable year in their quarters, as Ron was slightly overprotective of his little sister. Ron had only heard they were going out after they left Hogwarts for the summer. When her youngest brother was looking quite red in the face, Ginny paused. “So Harry, do you want to practice with Ron and me tomorrow afternoon?�

Harry was trying not to laugh at Ron. “Wait, Ginny, I’m not on the team anymore, remember?�

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous. You know Professor McGonagall will put you back on the team.�

“Yeah, probably. All right. We can practice.�

“Ginny, please help me do the dishes,� said Mrs. Weasley.

“Mum, they wash themselves!�

“Don’t you take that tone of voice with me. Come!� Grudgingly, Ginny followed her mother.

“Let’s go up to our room,� said Ron, and the two began to walk upstairs. They soon noticed Tonks, Arthur, Kingsley, and Moody following them.

“I- uh- don’t need everyone to come up here. I could do it on my own. I don’t need a guard to get to my room, you know,� said Harry, perturbed.

“You don’t take a hint, do you Boy?� said Moody, “We’re coming up to talk.�

“We didn’t want to involve Ginny,� sighed Tonks,� but I suppose she’ll soon find out anyway. Between her tricks and her friends telling her everything they know, it’s a wonder we keep anything secret!�

“Little cow. She's too clever for her own good,� said Ron.

“Ron,� said Mr. Weasley warningly. He then focused on Harry in an unsettling way. This couldn’t be good news. “He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has begun-“

“Killing a lot, I know,� said Harry with a bitter edge.

“Yes. But some of his Death Eaters are focusing specifically on targeting members of the Order. There have been instances of direct battle. We want you to be prepared for the fact that some of us may come to some harm. Also, Dementors have been hovering in Muggle neighbourhoods. In some instances they have been found to be administering the kiss.�

Harry thought about the dark, hooded figures looming over him and Dudley last summer. The cold, unhappy air sucking at every happy memory he ever had. “I know that this is war. I know bad stuff has been happening, and will happen,� Harry felt a pang of regret. “I have been reading the Prophet and know who’s been getting hurt and dying. Tell me something I don’t know.�

“Well,� began Arthur, looking uncomfortable, “we think Voldemort knows the prophecy-“

“What? How?� Harry interjected, genuinely shocked.

“Well . . . we know you never learned Occlumency, and V- he had plenty of time to access your brain while you were sleeping. As that probably has been at the forefront of your mind, it was probably something he learned on your first night at home.�

Harry felt a little guilty. “So this means . . .�

“Two things. For one, you are in more danger now than ever before, because you are the only danger to him. Secondly, he knows he can do anything because no one else can kill him. Not even Dumbledore.�

The repercussions quickly filtered through his mind. How many people would be hurt because he wanted to know what was in the Department of Mysteries? How many atrocities would be committed? In how much danger were the people he cared about?

"So, what is he going to do? Barge right up to the castle and knock?"

"Of course not. Dumbledore can't kill him, but he can certainly protect you," said Tonks.

The adults all glanced at each other, and shared the same thought. Then they stood. “Well, Harry, we should be going,� said Arthur.

“Important business to intend to,� said Moody gruffly.

Harry just stared at the floor. He knew that wasn’t all the news. There would always be a lot going on behind the scenes that he wasn’t privy to. It was probably better that way. What he heard was enough knowledge for one night. Everyone had left the gloomy room to Ron and Harry.

“Er- Harry?�

“Not now. I don’t want to talk. Can we just go to bed?�

“Sure, Mate,� came Ron’s simple reply. He could wait to talk with Harry, but he wasn’t keen on going to bed so early.

Chapter Six

“Harry,� whispered a voice. He felt someone shaking him. “Harry, you awake?�

“I am now,� grumbled Harry. He sat up, bleary-eyed and reluctantly stood to get in a proper stretch. “I was actually having a good dream, you know!� Suddenly, something hard hit him in the knees with a high-pitched squeal.

“Aarghh!� Harry shouted, and fell back with his knees bound. Somehow, in his uncoordinated efforts, he managed to land on the same abused spot as yesterday.

“Mr. Harry Potter, Sir!� said a small green creature with protuberant eyes and over-large ears. “It’s Dobby, Sir! Mr. Dumbledore is letting Dobby see Harry Potter on his birthday! Dobby has been waiting all summer-“

“Wh- what?� said Harry as he stood again, rubbing his bruise.

“None-too-bright for someone who’s supposed to be one year wiser today,� snickered Ron.

“Oh. I . . . I forgot it was my birthday,� said Harry. He finally got a chance to look at exactly who had was lingering around his bed.

Dobby’s eyes peered at him from all of two inches away. Harry was quite glad he made the elf promise not to wake him up by hovering over him a few years ago. Ron sat at the end of Harry’s bed, looking highly amused. “Now you have a bruise on your bum to match your eye,� he said.

“No, my bed already took care of that, too,� said Harry, as he felt around for his glasses. He found them and they took up their usual place on his nose.

“Come in, everyone! He’s awake!�

Hearing Ron’s great foghorn of a voice, a small group came stumbling into the room. Molly counted down and they all began to sing the wizard birthday song:

“Happy Birthday to you,
We don’t love anyone as much as you,
We’re going to celebrate the day away,
Oh, Harry, Happy Birthday.�

Then the Weasley children added, “By the way! Look at that! You’re a prat!�

Harry laughed. It was the first time he would celebrate his birthday with people who actually cared about him. Before, he was always stuck at the Dursleys and all they would do was stick a dirty sock under his door. He would then spend the day hoping for birthday post from the people standing right before him. For once, Harry felt lucky.

While he was happy, he also felt quite uncomfortable having everyone stare at him when he had just woken up. “Er . . . thanks. I’m glad you’re all here with me.�

Mrs. Weasley caught the embarrassed look in his eye and quickly deduced the source of his discomfort. “All right, Harry. As a treat you may have a lazy morning. We can make plans for the day when you come downstairs,� she said, and gently ushered the others out of the room. When she had gone only Ron and Dobby were left.

Harry felt a tugging on his pajama pants. “Harry Potter, Sir? Dobby has a gift for you!�

He looked at the little house elf with wide eyes. When Harry first met Dobby he had been a definite hazard to Harry’s health, but the elf and The-Boy-Who-Lived had been through a lot over the years. Dobby had even helped him out of a few tough situations, namely at the Triwizard Tournament. One thing about Dobby is, on occasions such as these, he tended to give gifts that were . . . interesting. Last year, he had given Harry an interpretation of a portrait. It was a source of great mirth among the Weasley children.

“All right. Let’s see it then,� Harry replied. A misshapen package was thrust into his waiting hands. A growing feeling of dread was occurring somewhere around his middle. Feeling reluctant, but not trying to show it, he unwrapped the package.

“Dobby knows how much students is needing these, Sir. The house elves is always finding letters about them.�

Ron looked fit to burst. “So, uh, Harry. These should cushion your falls a bit, eh?�

Harry held up a pair of knitted underpants up to the light and watched as bits of it peeped through the tiny holes. “Dobby knit them himself, Sir. They will keep you warm in the winter,� Dobby paused, looking uncertain. “Does Harry Potter like Dobby’s present?�

Harry tried to catch his reaction, but some of it must have shown through. He recovered and replied, “Oh, no Dobby. They’re- er- nice,� he smiled.

Dobby squeaked with delight. “Thank you, Sir! Dobby must be going, now. The house elves have much to do still!� With that the little elf snapped his fingers and, with a loud crack, disappeared from the room.

When he was gone Harry turned to see Ron staring intently at him. “What?� he snapped rudely.

“You know, they do bring out the colour of your eyes.�

He punched him in the shoulder. “These are going straight to the bottom of the trunk, where they belong!� he said as he chucked them away.

He could have sworn he heard a snicker from the empty portrait.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Rather than head downstairs right away, the two decided to play a bit of Wizard Chess. Neither felt like getting ready for the day anyway. They had already discussed the possibilities for the Quidditch team that year when the subject fell onto the older Weasley brothers.

“So, Ron, what ever happened to Percy?�

A dark look flooded over Ron’s face.

In an attempt to regain their comfortable companionship he hurriedly said, “Er- never mind, you don’t have-“

“Fudge was fired, and so was Percy by association. All we know is that he left the country. Mum thinks it was to get away from He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The rest of us know he couldn’t get over himself enough to admit he was wrong. So rather than be a man about it, he ran away, him and his stupid pride!� Ron was visibly angry, with his hands balled up and his face rapidly turning red.

Harry felt sympathetic, but didn’t want to egg him on. “He’s always had a lot of pride, but he always comes around when it counts. He’ll be back.�

“You’d better be right, or Mum’ll pass a stone,� he said grumpily, but he seemed to have been placated a bit. “So what’re we going to do today, Birthday Boy? Check!� he said as he took out one of Harry’s knights.

“I think we’re due for a little Hogsmeade-“

“Great idea! It’d be great to get some chocolate frogs-“

“And practice a bit of Quidditch-“

“Yeah, I’ve got some new techniques to show you! Checkmate!�

Harry and Ron changed into their clothing for the day, and then tried to untangle their equally messy coifs of hair. As they only had a poor excuse of a comb they weren’t successful and decided that the rough look was more stylish anyway. They then bounded downstairs to eat breakfast.

Only a portion of the Weasley family was present in the kitchen that morning. Ginny was nibbling on toast, while Mrs. Weasley was bewitching eggs to scramble themselves. “Good morning Ron, Harry,� she said, kissing each in turn on the forehead. “What’s on the agenda today?�

“Well, I think it might be nice to go to Hogsmeade-“ he stopped as he saw the corners of her mouth tilt downward.

“Well, that’s a great idea. But I don’t know if it’s safe to take you-“ she paused as Harry’s disappointment became evident. “Oh . . . I suppose it’ll be fine. Yes, we can go!� she said cheerily, though clearly worried. “But Harry, you’ll need to wear your invisibility cloak.�

“Great! I’ll go get it!� he said, and ran up the stairs.

“I suppose it would be ok for you to go as well, Ron, but we can’t take you, Ginny dear.�

“Mum! I want to go-“

“No. Your father and I need to focus on two people already. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.�

She stormed off to her room in a rant. Harry heard her pass by his door, and felt bad for her. She had been stuck in the house as surely as he had. But she would be safer at Grimmauld Place, he knew.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Floo powder was their transportation method of choice and soon Ron, Harry, Molly and Arthur arrived in The Three Broomsticks. All were covered in dust from the fireplace, and stood for a minute, wiping themselves clear of the pesky substance. For safety, the boys’ arrival was sandwiched by the adults, who had immediately scanned the room for potential danger. All seemed clear, because all, including Harry in his invisibility cloak, went to sit down at a nearby table.

The Three Broomsticks was bustling with activity. Madam Rosmerta stood behind the bar, attending to the customers. When she caught sight of Molly and Arthur, she scurried over to their table. “Well if it isn’t the famous Weasleys. We haven’t seen you two in here for some time! What can I get for you lot?�

“Could we have eight butterbeers, please?� asked Arthur.

“Eight?� she responded suspiciously.

“Er- I’m really thirsty,� Ron blurted.

“All right. Eight coming up!� she called, and rushed off.

Two and a half sweet drinks later, the conversation was moving along swimmingly. Harry had already told the story of his retrieval from Privet Drive and Ron talked about Hermione’s visit after their holiday began. Just when Harry was becoming suspicious that Ron was leaving some crucial information out, Molly interrupted. “- So, Harry, how was your summer?� she asked gently.

Arthur had fallen silent while Ron had suddenly taken a keen interest in the grain of the table. Harry didn’t want to lie to them and he didn’t want an uncomfortable silence to follow him whenever the topic was broached. Mostly, he didn’t always want to be stuck in a place of misery and loneliness. He didn’t think Sirius would want that either. Harry realized it was time to talk.

Fortunately, the clamour of the other customers covered their conversation. Harry described Voldemort’s nightly, mental games, which received a collective shudder from his listeners, and his days of self-imposed exclusion. He conveniently left out the parts portraying him as a weepy little girl. Plus, he didn’t really want Molly to hug him and blow his cover. Hugging would make the situation worse. It did feel good, somehow, to talk about the whole ordeal to his best friend and Mr. and Mrs. Weasley.

“Ron, Arthur, would you get some Chamotarts, please. Thank you, Dears.� Molly requested as Harry finished his tale. He grudgingly left the table as Mrs. Weasley leaned forward.

“Harry, darling, you’ll always miss him. He touched all of our lives. The important thing to remember is that he is still with us. Especially you,� she added. “There are times when I swear it is Sirius speaking through you.�

“Really?� asked Harry.

“You haven’t noticed you both have a tendency to be a little- er- hard- headed? Hot-headed? Mischievous? Sometimes I think we let him have a little too much influence on you,� she smiled.

Harry felt a little lighter. Mrs. Weasley continued, “Besides, Harry, you know we will always be here for you. You’re like a son to me. You know that.� She paused, with a twinge of sorrow. “I would do anything for you; just like my own children.�

Harry was grateful to hear such a thing, but was glad when Ron came back. He wanted to wake up without sadness. He knew he would see Sirius again someday. Hadn’t Luna said that the last night at Hogwarts? For now, he had things to do until he could see Sirius again.

Ron, who could tell he walked in on something private, sought an escape. “Let’s go look around Hogsmeade. I’ve got some chocolate frogs to taste.�

They visited Honeydukes and Zonko’s Joke Shop, amongst others. Soon, Mrs. Weasley’s arms had a few bags in them. It was obvious she was buying presents. Harry, who was unused to all the birthday attention, was rather enjoying his time. He found he liked thinking about trivial and happier matters.

A few offensive jokes from Ron - and a few scoldings from Molly - later, the group arrived back in front of The Three Broomsticks. “Well, I expect there’s a lot to be going on with before dinner tonight, so shall we get back?�

Everyone quickly agreed and soon Harry was flying through flames, eager to take a swift ride on his most prized possession.

Chapter Seven

Harry and Ron bolted upstairs directly upon landing. They could not wait to feel the cool summer breeze on their faces. They grabbed their brooms and raced downstairs so fast, it sounded as if a violent thunderstorm was rolling through the house. As the two boys trampled through the kitchen, an arm was flung across their path. “And where do you think you are going?� she asked in the high-pitched tone that happened to be her most abrasive.

“Outside,� responded Ron dully, peaking around her. “To practice Quidditch, you know?� He was speaking as if she had gone mental.

“Only at the Burrow can you go outside,� she said with finality.

“Then we’ll go,� he said as he turned determinately. “Where’d you put the floo powder?�

“Not on my watch will you scamper off half-hazardly to play in an unsupervised environment!�

Ron groaned. “Muuumm. Come on, we’re not first years here!�

“I’ll have none of it. You and Harry have to stay here.�

“-But Mum!�

“No buts! There aren’t as many safety charms there as there are here. There are Death Eaters running about! You-Know-Who is free, alive and well, which is more than I can say for you two if I let you outside!� Mrs. Weasley was shaking, her face contorted in an angry fear.

“You-Know-Who isn’t going to show up at the Burrow!�

“He knows where we live, Ronald! Everyone does! I’ll not lose one of you because you wanted to play a silly game!�

“-It’s not a silly game!� he retorted angrily. “Where are we supposed to practice then?�

“Practice in the attic!�

Ron made to continue the argument, but Harry grabbed his collar and marched with him back up the stairs towards the attic. Behind her parental fear, he knew Mrs. Weasley had a point. Ron was lucky to have someone who cared, but did he notice? No… Harry found himself boiling up inside.

“I don’t see why we always have to be locked up,� Ron grumbled. “He’s only after you. Why do I always-“

There was a stern warning look from Harry. He thought Ron might soon begin to hate having to suffer like his best friend. After the Death Eaters found out who his support group was in the Department of Mysteries, they were bound to be targets. “Sorry Harry . . . It’s just-“

“You think I ask for this?

“No! I know you don’t. It just sucks to be in your place, I guess.�

“Yeah. I know.�

“I’m sorry, ok?�

“Ok. Let’s just practice- however we can in a small space.�

They opened the door to the attic and climbed up the small staircase. Awaiting them was a room that must have had an expanding charm placed on it. Fields of space were available. Of course, a good part of the room was taken by sheet-covered furniture, boxes and trunks, mirrors, and objects Harry didn’t feel like investigating. “Well!� he said brightly. “I think we can manage if we clear some of this stuff away.�

“That’ll be the fun part for sure,� said Ron sarcastically.

It became obvious to them that no one had ever cleaned the attic. Cobwebs pulled a shriek from Ron every time he encountered one. He had a ludicrous fear of spiders which only intensified when he had the misfortune to meet a creature named Aragog. They eagerly worked at clearing a large area by pushing everything to the periphery. Soon enough, they had a large enough area to practice. “Ok,� said Ron, “The space there, between the two paintings of hideous goons, that’ll be the goal. I need to practice keeping more than you need to practice seeking.�

“That’ll be difficult to aim for, Ron. I’m more likely to hit the portraits. They quite resemble Crabb and Goyle, don’t you agree?� he said with a smirk.

“Yeah, I guess so. Just do your best,� said Ron, positioning himself.

Ron did remarkably well. The practice at the Burrow (Harry felt a jealous pang) had improved Ron’s skills beyond what they were in fifth year. After the portraits had taken a thorough beating, sending the occupants scrambling for cover, Ron helped Harry by being his competitor for the snitch. It proved difficult to do, even with the incredibly high ceilings of the attic. Finally, he and Ron were neck-and-neck after the snitch. The floor was coming fast, but Harry seemed determined to get it, or crash trying. The latter seemed more likely. “Just a bit further!� he grunted.

CRASH! Boxes and crates lay everywhere. He came up holding the snitch, and his glasses. They were broken- again. His hair still in disarray, and a trickle of blood from a cut on his chin, Harry looked quite satisfied with himself. “Who’s got the talent?

“You are the king of manual dexterity,� Ron conceded. “You’re glasses are broken, O Great One.�

“Occulus Repairo!� Harry said, his wand pointing at his spectacles. Instantly, the glasses mended to a smooth sheen.

Ron kindly went to help his friend out of the dusty pile of boxes. In the crash, one of the filth-ridden boxes had fallen over and spilled its contents. Many photographs littered the area. Curiosity took hold, and the two sat down to browse through the old pictures.

“Here’s one of Sirius and your dad,� said Ron, handing him a slightly faded photograph. They looked to be fourth years. They were posed on a park bench, with the sun shining on them through the canopy of a large tree. Sirius looked composed and arrogant as usual. James had a particularly awkward smile on his face, and a bad case of bed hair.

“They look happy,� mused Harry nostalgically, remembering the same smile plastered on his godfather's face in a fireplace at Hogwarts.

Ron leaned over to look. “Yeah, mate, they do. But you got to look at it as a good thing, you know? They made every minute count, that’s for sure!�

Harry had always been bothered by happy pictures of people before their untimely deaths. But now, looking at this picture of his father and godfather, waving and grinning at the camera, Harry thought Ron had a fair point. They did lead happy lives, and had a lot of people who loved them. If that wasn’t a useful use of their time, Harry didn’t know what was.

While a picture was a poor substitute for reality, seeing Sirius smiling and waving lifted his spirits quite a bit. Harry slipped the picture in his jeans pocket while Ron wasn’t looking. He could swear he caught sight of him looking out of the corner of his eye, though.

“I’m surprised at you, Ron. You had a deep thought! O, Hermione would be so proud!� he teased.

Ron socked his shoulder even as he blushed. “Shut up, Git!�

“You know,� said Ron, changing the subject, “I’m surprised Sirius’ mum didn’t blast this stuff into oblivion.�

“She probably didn’t know it was here. There are centuries of rubbish up here. How would she notice, even if she was up here a lot?�

“Lucky us,� said Ron. “We get to look at the good child’s stuff. Hey! Look at this one!�

The two spent the entire afternoon looking through the pictures. By the end, they had still only gone through two boxes. Their time was punctured by the occasional girlish shriek whenever Ron spied the inevitable spider or two. Harry also managed to stow away a few more pictures. If Ron saw it, he uncharacteristically didn’t mention it for Harry’s benefit.

They were busy laughing at one picture when the sun began to set. In it, Sirius and James were sitting with two very attractive girls at their sides with their arms around their respective partners. It was at Hogwarts, obviously, and when they spied an afro in the background, they did a double-take. It was Snape! Uncontrollable laughter seized their sides until they couldn’t breathe.

“Harry? Ron?� was followed by a knock at the door.

They looked at each other. “Look, Harry. I think we both know that we’re throwing you a birthday party. Um . . . if you don’t like something, can you just- er- pretend?�

Harry raised an eyebrow. Ron seemed to be showing a lot more concern for feelings these days. “Sure, no problem. I’m sure it’ll be great,� he said and smiled. Whatever had happened to Ron while Harry was away, he came out much less an oaf than he was going in.

So they obligingly opened the door and followed Mrs. Weasley downstairs.

There were balloons on the banister, walls, corners, and everywhere else the eye could see in the sitting room. Harry was- in a very childish way- very excited. It would be his first birthday party! His grin was amplified when he saw all the decorations were in Gryffindor colors- red and gold. The ceiling was temporarily enchanted to look like a starry night sky (“I know how you must miss being outside,� Molly had said). Stacked on the coffee table were several presents whose shimmering paper matched the room. “Wow! This is really great everyone! It’s fantastic! Thank you!� he said earnestly.

“Wait until you go into the kitchen!� smiled Ginny tauntingly.

They all trotted through the swinging door, and to Harry’s delight, Dumbledore was there with a warm smile. “Well, hello Harry.�

Harry responded with a nod, and a vaguely sarcastic tone. “Great present, Ginny. Did you make him all by yourself?�

His negative feelings towards Dumbledore had dissipated somewhat over the break, but his belly still bubbled in his presence. He felt his face rise in heat. It was useless to stay angry with him, but he still felt angry. After all, with a little warning from the Headmaster, Harry would have known Voldemort would be playing mental games. Sirius would still be alive. Yet, some small voice of reason occasionally squeaked, If you're going to need anyone in the future, it's him.

He resolved that whatever was going on between him and the headmaster, he would not let it ruin the birthday party for which Molly worked so hard.

“Well, yes, he's here,� said Ginny, rolling her eyes, “but look, we made a special dinner for you!� She gestured toward the table. On it were seven stacked pizzas, of all different varieties.

“Pizza!� he exclaimed. “You couldn’t have picked a better food!�

“Yeah, it was Mum’s first time making it. She said Muggle directions were too complicated, so she cheated and used magic,� quipped Ginny.

“It’s not cheating! Who knows how those Muggles survived without magic all these years. It’s tedious!� Mrs. Weasley grumped. “Your father should be home soon.�

“I’m home! Let’s celebrate! Happy Birthday Harry,� he said, shaking Harry’s hand as he entered the kitchen.

“No, let’s eat,� said the twins, as they had just arrived as well.

“Yulgh! What is that?� said Fred. “It looks grotesque!�

The rest of the family also possessed dubious looks on their faces. “Um, Mum, you sure you made it right?� asked Ron.

“Yes! I made it right! Tell them, Harry.�

He smiled at the family that had assembled to celebrate his birthday. He was lucky, he knew, in more ways than he ever thought of. “Yup, it’s right. Trust me, it’ll be the best food of your lives.�

Everyone then sat down to their fantastic Muggle dinner experience. Looks of dawning excitement and satisfaction covered each face. Soon, Molly began to worry. “I wonder if I made enough . . .�

“Just wait,� grinned Harry, “You’ll see.�

Three pizzas in, the Weasley family discovered and appreciated how a little pizza could go a long way with filling hungry stomachs. Even Dumbledore was reclining deeply into his chair. “I do believe it was a wondrous idea our ancestors had in wearing these roomy robes,� he said with a twinkle in his eye.

“As for you,� he said to Harry, “I have much business to attend to. However, Happy Birthday. I trust you’ll find my gift. I daresay it'll give you something to do during the long winter," he said, sounding slightly discouraged. Then, he was gone.

After a politely appropriate amount of time, the brightly wrapped packages in the next room nagged Harry’s curiosity.

Ron seemed to have the same thought, because he asked first. “Hey, Dad, can we go open the presents now?�

“Whu?� said a bloated Mr. Weasley. “Oh, I s’pose. Let’s go.�

Cumbersomely, they all wobbled onto the sitting room feeling fat and happy. Harry took a seat between the Weasley twins. “We’ve got your present from us in your room,� Fred whispered mischievously.

Harry acted as if he hadn’t heard a thing, but certainly made a mental note. As he got down to opening presents, he realized this had been one of the best days of his life. Finding the stash of photos upstairs was the best thing that could have happened. He thoroughly enjoyed visiting Hogsmeade, and he loved pizza. Harry also mentally marked that he had several new photos of his parents, and well.

In the end, the birthday inventory included a lovely Molly Weasley original knitted sweater (a staple), too many treats, a football (from Mr. Weasley, who had just discovered the Muggle sport), a journal, and more chocolate treats. This was not including a mysterious ring with foreign markings upon it, which was the gift from Dumbledore.

“The journal is magical, of course,� said Ginny. “It’ll answer any question you ask about yourself in it.�

Harry and Ron gave each other a look that said they already had Hermione for that.

Harry thanked everyone profusely for their generosity. They had worked hard to make a special birthday for him, and he truly did appreciate their efforts.

“Mum, is it all right if George and I stay the night?� asked Fred with a yawn.

“Yes, of course dear. My, you look tired. Perhaps you two should-“

“Go to bed?� asked George eagerly.

“You’re right. I’m tired. What about you?� asked Fred.

“Quite. Well, g’night everybody. Happy Birthday Harry!� said they, and shot up the stairs.

Molly raised a suspicious eyebrow. “I gave up trying to figure out all they were up to, and I’m glad of it!�

When everyone began to look a bit worn out, Harry said, “I’m getting a bit sleepy as well. Ron, will you help me carry my stuff?�

“Yeah, sure,� replied Ron, who had caught on more quickly than usual.

“Thanks again, everyone. I had a great time,� he announced, and with Ron, calmly strolled up the stairs.

Chapter Eight

Elated to get away and keen on discovering Fred and George’s secret gift, Harry led Ron to the bedroom door. Just as he turned the handle, and barely cracked the door open, the twins yanked them in by their shirts and shoved them down on the bed. The room was as black as the hours before dawn and Harry’s eyes hadn’t yet adjusted enough to make out shapes. He heard George put an Imperturbable Charm on the door. Anxiety hung thick in the air until a great flame leapt up in front of Harry.

“Firewhiskey!� shouted Ron. “I’ve always wanted to try firewhiskey!�

“Try it, you will, dear brother,� said Fred. “But first, a toast.� George ignited three other cups, and handed one to each person.

“To Harry Potter. May he always come out on top.�

Harry felt the familiar, unwelcome anger rising to the surface. He didn't want it to happen, but he didn't want this war, or his life or destiny trivialized. They made it sound like child's play!

“Is it just a game to you lot, then? Somehow, the bad die and the good come out on top. Is that right? Well, Sirius died, and he was one of us. Bloody Hell, I have Voldemort in my brain all the time! Does that make me good, or bad? Why the hell does it always have to be me? It’s not a game!�

“We know, Harry,� said George seriously. “We’re dealing with it too, just-“

“In our own way.�

“We weren’t trying to make a game out of it-“

“Just shed a bit of light.�

Harry knew this as guilt gnawed at him. The twins were born to create laughter. This is one of the few times Harry had seen them be serious. “Sorry,� he said as he remembered how their knack for jokes had proved a blessing in the past. “You’re right. Get on with it then,� he smiled reassuringly.

Ron, having successfully avoided the argument altogether, continued. “To Harry, may he always enjoy being on top,� which won hearty laughter from the group.

They all took a sip, and Harry noticeably jolted. It burned his throat in a way butterbeer never did.

“It goes down better after you’ve drunk a glass,� advised Fred.

“Bottoms up?� asked George.

“Bottoms up!� they chorused.


“So I said, ‘Nuh-uh! He just thought your arse was your face!’� laughed Ron.

Surprisingly, Ron made better jokes when he was a bit tipsy. He wasn’t the only one that had had more than a couple of glasses. They all lost count somewhere around two, and couldn’t count anyway, because their fingers weren’t cooperating and were all blurry. As happens so often, the drinks softened the boys’ inhibitions, and they were keener on talking about things they normally wouldn’t.

“Remember wh’n I was Alum'num Man for Halloween?" asked Ron with a bitter tone. “I know ‘f I bought a cos’ume, I would’n have got in a fight.�

“You got in a fight?� guffawed Harry.

“’E’s a feisty one (hiccup), our Ronny ‘ere. ‘Tis how ‘e knew ‘e wouldn’ be a prat like P- ercy,� said George with a sleepy grin.

“Why you always call'n me a prat, Arse?�

Everyone laughed. “’E jus’ called me a Arse. Ha ha-“

“Yeah, we on’y did that to ‘muse ourselves,� said George.

“Gee, thanks-“ Just then, Ron turned pale. “Oh, I don’ feel so good-“ said he, and vomited into his cup.

Fred laughed. “Well, ‘e’s done. Shall we go to our room, George?�

“Sound’s good to me. ‘Ope you two enjoyed the ‘freshments. ‘Night,� he said, and they Disapparated.

“G’night,� said Harry to the closed door. His best friend looked nearly out of it. He helped pull him to a stand, let Ron lean on him, and moved slowly toward Ron’s bed. He plopped him down on the bed without grace, as he was quite inebriated himself. Ron settled down onto his pillow. “’Arry?� he exhaled with rotten breath.

“Uh?� was all Harry managed to respond with.

“Quilt . . .� he said as his fingers fruitlessly reached toward the foot of his bed.

“Get it yourself,� said Harry, as he stumbled towards his own bed. Harry immediately fell asleep. What felt like hours later, he awoke to a repeated, “’Arry?�

“What?� he asked, annoyed.

“Can I talk about what happened to me in the Department of Mysteries?�

Somewhere in Harry’s semi-drunken mind, something clicked, and he suddenly became very aware that Ron had suffered in the supposed rescue mission last year. His stomach sank through the bed to the floor. So this was what Ron had been trying to talk about. Harry felt horrible for avoiding the subject for so long. Why had Harry assumed it was about him? “I’m a shit friend,� he mumbled.

“Huh?�


“Yeah, Ron, tell me.�

Ron's mind seemed to have cleared, because his speech became more enunciated as he spoke. “At first, they looked funny, and I wanted to see them, so I fetched them. Then they latched all over my arms,� (he subconsciously rubbed his hands over his arms), “and my legs, my head. They were scary. They . . . it was like they were talking to me-“

“Talking?� asked Harry.

“Yeah. Dumbledore said they were ‘The Evils of Human Intelligence’. I’d rather be stupid . . .�

“What were they saying?� Harry asked, as he thought he saw the moonlight catch a glint of something wet on Ron’s face.

“They- they used my mind against me, you know? Things I’ve thought before. They were haunting me with horrible things I’ve thought. The first one, it kept telling me how worthless I am, and how I’d grow up to be a brown-nosing prat, just like Percy.�

Harry chose to stay silent. He didn’t know what to say. Ron had never opened up to Harry in such a way. They never talked about feelings, aside from who fancied who. Ron continued after a pause.

“They said I’d never be as good as you. That I was your lap dog-“

“That’s not true!�

“And that I would betray you, because I couldn’t stand being second best. It said things like that over and over, and I started to believe it, because I was the one who thought it in the first place. But I didn’t want to believe it, but I did, because they just kept saying it, and everyone else says it. It hurt so bad, I thought I must have hated you. But you’re my best friend!�

Harry heard a sniffle, but didn’t look over to confirm his suspicions. Ron just needed him to listen, because now, he wasn’t pausing anymore. He kept talking, seemingly trying to purge himself of his self-hatred as quickly as possible; to suck the poison out.

“The second one told me that I was going to do all these horrible things! Just for money! It talked about how I never had anything. It talked about all those times other people got things I wanted. It said I would k- kill. I wouldn’t kill, would I Harry? I don’t want to-“

“You won’t, Ron,� Harry said as sternly as possible. Ron was shaking rather badly, and his voice wavered with anxiety. “You’re a good person, and a good friend.�

“No I’m not. I’m going to hurt you, and Hermione, and Gin-“

“No you won’t.�

“There were so many more . . . I’m such a bad . . . should go away, before . . .� Harry felt truly uncomfortable, but knew he had to deal with it. But he really just wanted to end the scene. Harry also needed time to process all these things Ron said he had been thinking.

“Have you told anyone about this?�

“Yeah,� Ron recovered slightly. “Hermione was here for a while at the beginning of holiday. We- we talked. And Lupin. He talks to me a lot about it. He says talking will help. He tries to help, but he doesn’t understand. It was me that hurt me, you know?� Ron paused for a moment. “I’m a monster.�

Harry didn’t know what to do. It was too late to try to fix a Calming Drought, and they would surely get caught with their alcohol-infused breath. Harry was fully sober now, though. “Ron? Listen to me for a moment. I trust you. I trust you like my dad trusted Sirius, like we trust Dumbledore. You are my best friend, and I know you will never betray me. Maybe you’ve thought things about me before, and about other people, but everyone does. That doesn’t make you a monster. It makes you human.�

Silence came from Ron's direction.

“Listen. We’ll always be best mates. Tell you what. If you ever start acting like a prat, I’ll punch you. Deal?�

Ron was calm. He could make out his chest rising and falling with his breath. He wasn’t sure if he was asleep, or if his words had the desired effect, but he wouldn’t spoil Ron’s sleep just in case.

As Harry tucked himself into bed, he realized he was glad Ron told him. Maybe he didn’t know all of what the brains told him, but what he heard was enough. He furthermore realized that he wasn’t exaggerating for Ron’s benefit. He did trust him with his life.

Harry figured that the brains worked in a similar way as dementors. The only difference was that there were bad memories versus bad thoughts. Harry smiled. The only way to combat them is to remember the happy things in your life.

As he drifted off to sleep, a small voice in the back of his mind spoke in a vindictive tone. “Our rescue mission gave him a little taste of what the limelight feels like, just like he wanted.�

Chapter Nine

Once asleep, the attacks on Harry’s mind commenced.

They were in the dark forest, and a hooded Voldemort stood in front of him and Ron. Harry was holding Ron in front of him like a shield, saying “Take him! He wants it! He wants to be me!� Harry turned and ran out for the woods, leaving Ron there to suffer in his stead. Then, he found himself stuck in a small, clear glass box in a high-ceilinged room. Where he couldn’t get to them, the Weasley’s, Hermione, Tonks, and Lupin, among others Harry had come to love, were standing in a row. Bellatrix Lestrange, the Death Eater that killed Sirius, was performing the Crucio curse on each in turn. Their faces contorted in their misery; their bones bent and cracked at all angles. All Harry could do was watch; watch as they slowly and painfully died . . .

Harry violently awoke and heard himself screaming. The images were slow to fade, and he watched as the mangled face of Ron transformed into a healthy, safe Ron. Harry was mortified.

“Harry? Harry! You all right?�

He panted until his breath stabilized somewhat. “Huh?� he said as a searing pain shot across his forehead. “Ouch! My head hurts . . .� He pressed his hand against his forehead.

“Your scar?�

“No. Well, yes, but not just that. Firewhiskey doesn’t feel so good the next day.� He would have laughed if it didn’t hurt. The light coming in the window didn’t help either.

“Yeah, I don’t feel too great myself,� he sighed. “Have you been - er - having nightmares, too?� he asked tentatively.

“Do I ever not have nightmares?� he said moodily.

“Do you- um- remember last night?�

Harry realized where Ron’s discomfort was coming from. If he lied, Ron might still feel bottled up. He decided the truth would be uncomfortable, but more manageable. “Yeah . . . do you?�

He was pleasantly surprised to see Ron relieved. “Look, I know it’s hard being you. I don’t think it’s loads of fun or anything. I just . . . feel like people think I’m moronic next to you.�

“Who cares what other people think? We’re two different people who are good at different things. You’re my friend. That’s all that matters.� Ron looked down, unconvinced. Harry continued. “The brains are wrong. Come on, we know each other better than the Evils of Human Intelligence, right? They’re evil, remember?� and it took a little effort to smile.

Ron laughed a little. “You know, Harry, I’m glad I was there that night. Whatever help I may have given . . . it’s all a blur, but I’m sure I helped you out somewhere in there.�

“You helped. I’m glad too. Thanks.� Harry and Ron both became a little uncomfortable.

Ron said, “Listen to the schoolgirls talking,� They laughed. “Can we go downstairs now?�

“Only if your mum can fix me,� Harry replied.

They took off the charm that sealed off the noise the entire night, and went downstairs, not realizing they were still in the same clothes as the day before. If they thought the women of the household wouldn’t notice, they were woefully mistaken.

Mrs. Weasley looked at her youngest son with great suspicion. She didn’t want to accuse anyone of anything based upon the fact that they hadn’t changed clothes, and had gotten a ‘gift’ from Fred and George the night before. “Well, sit down boys, have some food. Harry, did you sleep well?�

“Er, no, not really,� he said, and looked at her blearily from half-closed eyes.

“You look sick! Wait here for a minute.�

“Where’s she going?� Harry asked Ron, but he only shrugged. Then a look of comprehension dawned on his face.

“Harry! She’ll see - “

Before Ron could finish, a grating, screeching voice forced itself down between the floorboards. “FIREWHISKEY!� There were stomps in quick succession, one slammed door, and one of Sirius’ mother’s tirades before Molly was in the kitchen, with a look that made Harry think he’d rather take the basilisk. “Ron Weasley, how dare you turn this house into a bar! Did I raise you to become an alcoholic?� she screamed, towering over Ron at the table. The two cringed in pain.

“And you!� With that, Harry got his first glimpse of Molly Weasley’s anger directed at him. “I thought you knew better! Everyone knows you have a penchant for rule-breaking, but in my own home? Have you two got nothing better to do than get drunk? What good did it do you? Hmm?�

Molly was on a roll, and wasn’t going to stop any time soon. Unfortunately, no one could think of anything to say that would placate her. She was right- except for it doing no good, that is. They could barely think at all, however, with their hangovers.

“Mum. Mum? Mum!� yelled Ginny over her mother.

“What?� she snapped.

“I have to talk to you about - “ she looked over at the boys, “erm - girl things.�

“What?� she asked delightedly, even though she heard her perfectly well. “What’s going on?�

“Can we talk in my room?� Ginny asked.

“Of course, Ginny, dear. You two,� she snapped at the boys. “I’ll deal with you later.�

As they turned to go to Ginny’s bedroom, for added effect, Ginny slipped her hand into her mum’s. She then mouthed, “You owe me,� over her shoulder.

All Harry and Ron could do was stare back at her in awe. “She takes after Fred and George, that one. Only she’ll be worse, because she’s a girl!� said Ron.

“Yeah, it seems a bit unfair. She’s got an edge on you lot.�


If Harry felt like a prisoner before, he surely was one now - and that was made absolutely clear by Mrs. Weasley. Grimmauld Place turned into a high security penitentiary. In other words, he and Ron were grounded - something Harry had no idea transferred over to the wizarding world. They were stuck doing any and every chore Mrs. Weasley could think of. As never before, Harry truly felt like her son. And he didn’t like it.

Because they couldn’t ride their brooms, they spent most of their free time playing Wizard Chess in their room. They also began to practice Apparating and Disapparating, as they were now allowed to test. The days only seemed to grow longer, until a bit over a week before the start of term, a very excited letter arrived from Hermione.

Dear Ron and Harry,
I am coming for a visit! I will, of course, simply stay and go to King’s Cross with you.
I have news for you, and you both had better be prepared to discuss your summers with me.
See you soon.
Love from,
Hermione

Harry couldn’t help but notice that while he was reading this letter aloud, Ron was busy reading another. Hermione sent one just to Ron? He thought he now knew what instigated Ron’s change. He decided just to approach the subject directly, and save them both a lot of dancing around. “What’s it say?� asked Harry inquisitively.

“Huh? Oh, a letter from Hermione.�

“I know. I asked what it said.� Harry was smirking now.

Ron blushed. “Oh, it just says hello and all that.�

A grin spread across Harry’s face. “Why’d she write you a separate letter?�

“Hm? Oh, nothing.�

“One might think you two have a thing going. But surely, you haven’t told her you fancy her?�

Unable to resist, Ron spilled it all out. “Yes, we have a ‘thing’ going, but it was all her, you know? She came to see me this summer - well, you knew that - but, it was as if she was using my injuries as an excuse to see me. That’s what it really was. Then . . .� he paused for dramatic effect, with a cocky glow on his face, “she couldn’t very well keep her hands off of me. Kept telling me how good I looked, and all.�

“You sure she wasn’t just talking about you looking like you feel better?�

“Nope, she wasn’t.�

Harry snorted. “Doesn’t sound like Hermione to me.�

Ron glowered. “Well that’s how it was! We’ve kissed loads of times! You don’t think I-“

“I don’t think Hermione would appreciate your talking about her that way,� said Ginny in her maternal tone as she walked into their room. Privacy was nonexistant, of course.

“Maybe she’d smack you like she did Draco!� Harry laughed.

“She wouldn’t. I’m too attractive.�

Everyone, including Ron, chortled at that line. “Ginny,� asked Harry curiously, “What did you need to talk about to your mum that day?�

“A girl never tells. Just be thankful I pulled her away. All I have to do is mention a boy, and Mum goes all mushy. Makes me glad I’m the only girl of the family.�

She looked at them in turn, and smiled sweetly. "You both owe me so big."

Chapter Ten

Harry, Ron and Ginny were all trying to find a way to spy on the Order. The adults had, of course, put an Imperturbable Charm on all the doorways, because tonight was a major meeting. Both Dumbledore and Snape were present, as well as the new Minister of Magic, Amelia Bones. The task of breaking through the charm was proving to be troublesome.

Suddenly, there was a loud knock at the door, and the portrait of Sirius’ mum began shouting once again. If it didn’t hurt their ears so much, they would have ignored it. “Filth! Mudblood lovers! The honor of the House of Black is fallen! Traitors!“

“Wonder who that is,� Ron wondered aloud. “I think everyone’s here already.� He had to scream to be heard over the noise.

Whoever it was, they must have heard the portrait through the wall, and decided no one heard the knock, because they opened the door without invitation.

“Hermione!� shouted all three. Then they fell silent.

“Hello!� she smiled.

It took a minute to take her in. Her trip to Greece seemed to have wrought a change in her appearance - a lovely change. She now had bronzed skin and her hair had natural highlights. Paired with her brown eyes, she looked like she had been doused in carrot oil, and left out in the sun; not that the boys were complaining. Harry even thought he could smell the Mediterranean in her wake, as she passed by to give Ron a hug and a peck on the lips. “Harry. Missed you!� she smiled, and gave him a hug. “Gin, I have so much to tell you!�

She allowed them to see the change in her, but now began to feel uncomfortable. “Well, just say something instead of staring.�

“You look beautiful, Hermione. But didn’t you use sun block?� asked Ginny.

“Well, yes, but when you’re out in the sun all the time, it only goes so far,� she laughed.

“Pretty,� was all Ron seemed to be able to muster, after he recovered slightly from shock.

“Why thank you, Ron,� she said, and kissed him on the cheek.

Both boys blushed hard. Harry, having seen the kissing for the first time, felt quite uncomfortable.

It was strange, seeing someone he’d known for years coming back looking distinctly the same, yet inexplicably different.

For now, however, she looked like some kind of sand goddess. Her recently shrunken teeth really became her, he realized. She had also blossomed in other ways, but Harry didn’t want to think about that. When we go back to Hogwarts, Ron may be up for a bit of competition.

“Er - I’ll take your trunk to Ginny’s room,� said Harry quickly.

“Great!� she said breathlessly. “I’ll go with you, we need to talk anyway,� she said as she looked significantly at Harry and Ron.

“I’m coming too,� said Ginny with her jaw set stubbornly. No doubt after the Department of Mysteries fiasco, she felt like she should be a permanent part of the group. For years, the trio would sneak off to different adventures, discover secrets, and always came back heroes.

“Ginny, I don’t - “ began Harry.

“No, you don’t. I’m as much a part of this as everyone else. You know I can hold my own. And it’s most of my family that’s in the Order. I’m going with you,� she paused, and continued, “from now on."

“It doesn’t have to involve you."

"Don’t you think they saw me in the Ministry of Magic, too? Besides, the more people to help, the less of a burden it is on you.�

“And the more people die because of me,� said Harry, trying to quell his rising anger.

“People are dying now!� she said.

Harry glanced at the others. Hermione looked as if she’d been expecting this for ages, which she probably had. Ron looked indecipherable for the first time Harry could remember.

Ginny took advantage of his pause to push a bit further. “If we’re not fighting back, then we’re just lying in wait and hoping for the best. People deserve better than that. Sirius deserved better than that.� She stepped closer to Harry, and looked up at him with sympathetic eyes. “I’m as much a part of this as Ron and Hermione, and I intend to stay that way,� she said gently.

Harry felt a little lightheaded. It was weird that he could see a walleyed version of himself in her pupils. “Um . . . ok. You’re in.�

Ginny smiled. “I knew you’d do the right thing, Harry,� she said, and grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her quickly upstairs, so Harry couldn’t change his mind.

Harry had a feeling that no one wanted Ginny more involved, especially in their dangerous expeditions; in their sneaking. She had a point, however. She had already proven herself up to the task. She was quite brave in the Department of Mysteries. She pushed herself on, even though she hurt her ankle. Perhaps they all had a bad habit of thinking of Ginny as she was the day Harry met her in his second year. Perhaps it was time to think of her as more grown-up.

The thoughts ran through his mind as he and Ron trudged up the stairs carrying the large, heavy trunk (“What does she keep in there?�). Well, it might be nice to have someone share the burden, he thought. Soon, they were all in Ginny’s room. Hermione shut the door and locked it, then launched herself onto the bed. “So?� she grinned. “How was everyone’s summer?�

“Dismal, as expected. Then I got here, had a fantastic birthday, got smashed, and grounded, and here you are,� said Harry in one breath.

Ron added, “I’ve been practicing Quidditch. Found an old stash of Sirius’ photographs, and same as Harry.�

“You two got drunk?� she frowned disapprovingly. “What was the point of all that?�

“We wanted to try firewhisky,� said Ron sheepishly. “Besides, it was a gift, and we can’t rebuff a gift.�

Hermione sighed. “Is there any news on Voldemort?�

“He and his Death Eaters have been killing up a storm. That’s about it. Not any we know first-hand, yet. But some relatives of Hogwarts students have been hit.�

“That’s sad,� said Hermione. “Perhaps S.P.E.W. can arrange a type of condolence event. I'll have to think on that. Is there . . . anything else?�

“No, but you have something to share with us, don’t you?� asked Ginny.

Harry and Ron looked at her. “What?� she smiled, “I can’t help it if you leave your notes lying around.�

Ron muttered something like “sneak� under his breath. “Well, yes, I do have news,� she said, and happily launched herself into her trunk.

She came out with a rather long piece of very old parchment. She handled it carefully.

“That’s lovely scrap parchment, Hermione,� laughed Ron.

“It’s ancient,� she said, annoyed. “It’s got an ancient language on it, but I'm not sure what it is. Last week, my cousin and I were going through the library- it was an old library, and it’s been in the family for many years- and we found this stack of parchment in an old trunk. We went through, and as I was scanning this one, I saw an interesting word, and decided to try to figure it out. I thought it would be fun."

Ron snorted. “Only you would think extra work is fun.�

“You deciphered the whole thing?� asked Ginny.

“Well, no,� she answered. “But I found out a couple of things so far. Number one,� she said, ticking each finger off in turn, “it’s at least a thousand years old, but likely older. Number two, it was written in Ireland by a very knowledgeable bard. Number three, there was once a great wizard- I haven’t figured out who- who fought Salazar Slytherin. And number four, and this is the most important one. Somehow, the name ‘Potter’ fits into the story."

“What was something from Ireland doing in Greece?� asked Harry.

“I don’t know. It could have been traded, or just a traveling person’s story, written down.�

“My guess is the second bit. Stories often traveled throughout the world by bardic song, and occasionally they were written down,� said Ginny.

“How do you know that?� asked Ron, astonished.

“Just because you’re an imbecile at History, doesn’t mean I am,� she replied proudly.

Ron looked politely embarrassed.

“I think you’re right, Ginny. That does make a lot of sense,� said Hermione, ignoring the insult to Ron.

“How did my name get tossed into it?� asked Harry.

Hermione leaned forward slightly, and looked at him thoughtfully. “Well, I don’t know, but I have a theory. We know your mum was Muggle-born, but we have no idea who - or where - your dad comes from."

Chapter Eleven

A few days later, as the sun had just crept over the horizon, Mrs. Weasley woke everyone up with a nervous and worried demeanor. “All right. Everybody get dressed. We’re going to Diagon Alley to get your school things.�

Ron and Harry had been grounded for quite some time. They occasionally would get jealous of the free time Hermione and Ginny got to spend as they wanted. “Can me and Harry go, too, Mum?�

“Yes,� she said quickly, “but NOT without a guard!� Ron’s face fell. “We’re going today, because it’s much earlier than usual. No one expects us to head out on a Monday. It should be safer that way,� she seemed to be thinking aloud without realizing it. She then stalked out of the room.

“I feel bad for you, mate. Always having to have protection,� said Ron, just as Ginny and Hermione roamed in with hair styles that resembled rats’ nests.

“The guard’s for all of us, not just Harry,� said Hermione simply.

“We don’t need a guard. It’s not us the dark side’s after.�

“Bellatrix and Lucius Malfoy knew how involved we were in the Department of Mysteries. Any help to Harry is a nuisance to them,� said Hermione, then added, “You can bet she’s reported us to You-Know-Who already.�

“Everything is so different now,� said Ginny sadly.

Breakfast was a sullen affair. The air was full of nervous tension for everyone. “Dad, why are we all going if it is so dangerous?�

“Well, we don’t know that it’s going to be dangerous. We’re just taking precautions in case it does.� Ron still looked unconvinced, so he continued. “We can’t avoid life, and living it because there are terrible people in the world. We have to live the best way we know how,� he said as he clapped his hand on Ron’s shoulder. “We have to take life as it comes.�

While the speech did little to ease everyone’s fear, it did at least settle their stomachs. They all were able to take in a little food before Mr. Weasley remembered to say, “Oh yes, Harry, remember to wear your invisibility cloak.�

After breakfast, the ladies ran upstairs to do their hair and makeup, and Harry grabbed his cloak. He immediately headed downstairs where Ron, Mr. Weasley, Moody, and Lupin waited downstairs, looking apprehensive as ever. Even the guard was cut short, because most of the Order was stuck doing other business. Harry was thankful for the first time that Lupin had no job yet, and Moody was retired. He caught a glimpse of Ron and laughed. He was pulling his fingers through his hair to make it look windswept.

“Stop primping, boy,� said Moody. “We’ve got serious business to attend to.�

Mrs. Weasley appeared downstairs, and looked to be memorizing the school lists. The quicker in, the quicker out, was what Harry guessed was her method. In a moment, the girls were downstairs. Ginny looked quite fresh-faced, and Hermione looked like a bronzed goddess, of course. Harry tried to imagine Ginny with a dark tan, but couldn’t. He thought he liked her as she was just fine.

“Everyone ready? Harry, got your cloak? Well, put it on, put it on! All right. Off we go,� she said determinately.

Harry quickly disappeared under the invisibility cloak. “I have some quick, last-minute instructions. Merlin forbid, if something happens, or we get separated, meet in the alleyway beside the Leaky Cauldron. Help will arrive as quickly as possible. Keep two eyes peeled!�

They used Floo powder to get to Diagon Alley, carefully pronouncing the destination’s name. The students arrived between the Order members, so there would be protection on either side of them. All of it seemed unnecessary to Harry. How likely was it that they would be attacked? After all, like Mr. Weasley said, they were doing school shopping on an odd day. Then Harry thought of the front-page obituaries. He decided he’d rather have protection than not. Then, he knew he certainly could not be seen. He understood, then, that the protection was for Ginny, Ron and Hermione.

They arrived in Diagon Alley with Harry quite well hidden. Immediately, with Mrs. Weasley setting a brisk pace, they rushed off to Flourish and Botts to get their new school books. They also got some parchment and new quills, and Ginny and Hermione got new hair products and potions. The group visibly relaxed after a rushed hour of shopping. Harry found it tedious to run around under his cloak, dodging everyone who got in his way, lest they become suspicious.

“Well,� said Mr. Weasley, “I reckon nothing will happen today. Why don’t we get some ice cream sundaes?�

“Hold it, Weasley,� growled Moody. “We can’t let our guard down, just because it looks safe.�

“We can’t have the kids on pins and needles all the time, either. Besides, we’re all here,� he smiled at his wife. “Let’s have a little fun.�

Harry poked Mr. Weasley and said quietly, "Can I take my cloak off?"

"No," he whispered happily. Harry's lip curled, annoyed. Sometimes, he thought he saw a bit of the twins in Arthur, as well.

The foursome beamed. Ice cream was never too childish for them. So off they went, with jaunty strides. Hermione ordered Vanilla, and Ginny ordered Butterscotch with Every Flavor Jelly Beans. Ron ordered himself and Harry a pair of Triple-Decker-Mint-Cherry-Chocolate-Brownie ice creams. As it was a hot day, the adults all ordered Glacier Juice- it lowered the body temperature by a few degrees on contact.

Harry noticed Hermione and Ron were holding hands beneath the table. He was happy for them. Ron had liked Hermione for ages. However, he felt a twinge of loneliness when they acted like a couple. It was as if his two best friends had abandoned him for each other.

He felt a gaze on his face as he ate his ice cream under his cloak (quite a task). He looked over to find Ginny wearing a searching expression on her face. She wasn’t at all embarrassed to have been caught staring, but Harry was. It was as if she knew what he had been thinking. For someone who couldn't see him, she was staring right at him.

A shriek pierced his thoughtful silence while a red beam of light shred the fabric on Harry’s sleeve. “Arragh!� he screamed as blood flowed easily out of the wound. It hurt a lot; as if a fireplace poker had been pushed into his shoulder. The spell had been aimed at Ron.

Harry allowed his instinct to take over. He plunged his hand into his robe and pulled out his wand, holding it at the ready. In the process, his hood had slipped off. As he looked toward the hex had come from, he saw five Death Eaters already charging toward their small group. The Order yelled at the children to run, and they turned and ran to face the Death Eaters, cursing and hexing to the best of their talents. Their main goal was to divert their attention from the teenagers, of course.

Ginny seemed to have caught her survival instinct as well, because she grabbed Hermione’s sleeve and yanked her out of her chair. “Run! The alley!�

They all began to run full blast down the cobbled street. The crowd running in the same direction blocked Harry’s path, and before he knew it, he’d lost track of Ron and Ginny. Working on the hope that Ron would protect Ginny, Harry sought out Hermione’s familiar bushy hair and caught hold of her hand. He did not want to risk getting separated, and losing a friend in panic.

Harry hoped he lost the Death Eaters, but he soon felt the same hex cut across the top of his ear. It didn’t hurt, but it still was very bad news. Without looking or stopping, he pointed his wand behind him, shouting, “Impedimentia!�

“Harry!� screamed Hermione. “We can’t make it! There’re too many people! Turn here!� she shouted, and pulled him into a small space between two shops.

They made it to the back, and turned around in time to see the lone Death Eater’s shadow looming over them, the sunlight at his back. “You thought I wouldn’t see you?� laughed the eerily familiar voice from beneath the mask.

It dawned on Harry who it was. He’d heard it many times before, and it always signified doom. “You!� shouted Harry in an accusatory tone. “You’re supposed to be in Azkaban!�

The man only laughed louder. “What’s the matter? Don’t your weasel friends tell you the news?�

Harry realized they hadn’t been, about the same time he noticed that Malfoy was taking the opportunity to move closer.

Lucius gestured the headline, “’Death Eater Escapes During Dementor Revolt.’ Ah, I suppose they wouldn’t tell you, Potter. Too afraid of hurting your tender psyche, no doubt. The point is, I’m here now. How lucky was I to catch you two here together? I didn't see you at first, but I must say, I'm not at all disappointed. As for the Mudblood, I could follow that bushy hair anywhere.�

At the word ‘Mudblood,’ Harry made to rush at him, but Hermione held fast to his hand.

“Is she your little girlfriend now, Potter?� He sniffed the air, as if it carried the scent of dung. “She may smell like a pig, but roasted so nicely,� he purred sickeningly, “I can see how she might taste good.�

Hermione glared at the masked Death Eater. “We're not afraid of the likes of you!"

"Oh yes? Then why are you shaking, little piggy?"

“Go fuck yourself, Malfoy!� shouted Harry, catching the insinuation. He moved in front of her slightly, as if he could shield her from anything Malfoy decided to throw their way. He tried to make it look natural, but the Death Eater caught the movement.

“Don’t bother Potter. It’s no use trying to save rubbish-“

“Petrificus Totalus!� yelled Harry.

“Protego!� said Malfoy, just as quickly.

The movement slowed down. Harry made ready to defend himself, as Malfoy made a slashing movement with his wand. The look on his face was likely glee, as he passed the silent hex their way. “Protego!� said Harry, attempting to block it.

Malfoy only laughed his deep, silky laugh. “Lesson one in wizard duels, Potter. You may want to look at where I am aiming!�

Harry whipped his head around and saw Hermione lying on the ground. Across her abdomen, a thick line of blood was forming. Her cotton shirt was soaking it up, making the wound underneath seem all the more gruesome. She was mouthing something, but Harry couldn’t hear her. He also couldn’t help her, not with Malfoy just waiting for the right moment.

A seething hatred rose from within. It almost felt like the snake was inside him again. His scar was burning. With all the power of his being, he launched an attack on the Death Eater, throwing every hex, every curse, and putting up any shield he had ever learned. He felt slow, and every second lasted a lifetime. It was all he could do to avoid looking at Hermione.

“Impedimentia!� came a shout from the entrance of the small alleyway. It was Moody!

Mad-Eye did a complicated wand movement, and Malfoy was bound, with only the ability to move his eyes.

“Moody!� yelled Harry, collapsing with his previous effort. “Hermione! She’s hurt!�

As the other members of the Order arrived, Moody hoisted her up into his arms, and quickly hobbled away. Harry threw his cloak over his shoulder, and followed behind; feeling nauseous, and gripping his shoulder where blood spied through his fingers.

Chapter Twelve

Harry sat in the waiting room with his elbows on his knees, his back hunched, and his hands holding an undrinkable cup of tea. St. Mungo's was a place of sadness for him. He thought of all the people that ended up there, and how it was always, directly or indirectly, his fault. There was Mr. Bode a while ago, who was killed by a Devil’s Snare clipping. Mr. Weasley was there last year. Professor Lockhart . . .

Not to mention, this was the place where Harry first heard that Voldemort could access his mind. It wasn’t a pleasant thought, no, and St. Mungo’s wasn’t a pleasant place.

Especially now that he had caused Hermione to be there. He didn’t protect her. He was selfish, and only tried to protect himself. What kind of friend was he?

Hermione was on the floor for spell damage. She was recovering, but still quite unconscious. They allowed Mr. and Mrs. Weasley to see her first; then they summoned her parents. They, as Muggles, were given special permission to come see their daughter. Ron was waiting to see them as they walked out. They didn’t even notice him. Tears stained their grief-stricken faces, and their eyes remained permanently out of focus. Harry saw them too, but didn’t know what to say. What could he say? ‘Sorry Mr. and Mrs. Granger, I didn’t mean to almost kill your daughter’?

After Hermione’s mum cried on her husband's shoulder for a minute, she straightened and looked around. Her eyes caught sight of Harry, and to Harry’s regret, she began to move towards him. Harry was prepared for the worst bout of screaming. Instead, she pulled him into an overzealous embrace. “Thank you so much for being there for my baby,� she sobbed. “I’m so happy you were there. Who knows what would have happened without you.�

Harry was speechless for a moment. “Mrs. Granger, don’t thank me, please. She got hurt because I didn’t protect her well enough,� he said as his eyes started burning.

He saw Mr. Granger approaching. Mrs. Granger looked at him with sympathetic eyes. “Darling?� It was a request for his help.

“Harry. It was a difficult situation for the both of you. We know you did your best against that Death . . . food . . . thing. We will never hold you accountable for someone else’s doings. Now, please understand our gratitude. Time was important here, and you helped immeasurably with that. Thank you.�

He looked back at Mrs. Granger. She smiled weakly at him. “Welcome, I guess,� he said finally. She gave him a gentle hug, once again. “Chin up, Harry.�

“You keep an eye on our Hermione, eh?� said Mr. Granger with a wink.

“Uh, sure.�

They smiled and walked away, arm in arm, with Mrs. Granger resting her head on her husband’s shoulder.

After her parents left, the healers allowed Ron in to see Hermione, though she was still unconscious from an anesthesiatic spell. Until that time, he had been hovering near her door, hoping to catch glimpses of her. He now had burn marks across his torso, but he was unconcerned with them. When his mind wasn’t occupied with his girlfriend, he spent his time shooting venomous looks at his (former?) best friend. He knew Ron blamed him. Harry understood his pain, and his concern. There wasn’t much to say, except he was sorry, but that phrase seemed so petty, he hadn’t bothered with it.

He was in there about half an hour. He then came out, sullen and angry. He caught sight of Harry, and stormed at him. “Why didn’t you protect her?� he shouted. “You knew they would hurt us - hurt her - to get to you! Or was it that you weren’t thinking about her?�

Harry didn’t know what to say. He genuinely thought Malfoy would go after him. He usually left everyone else out of their confrontations - excepting the Department of Mysteries. Ron continued, apparently as angry with his silence as he would have been if Harry yelled at him. “You never think about how it bloody sucks being your friend, sometimes, do you? Too busy on your pity trip, I imagine!�

“You want to talk about pity trips, Ron?� shouted Harry, quite glad to be on a subject he had a defense for.

“No,� he interrupted, “but Hermione woke up, and for some stupid reason, she wants to talk to you! I don’t know why, because I sure as hell don’t!�

She’d awakened? Harry’s curiosity overcame his quickly spent anger. He wondered if it was coincidence, or if somehow, Ron had brought her out of her long sleep. He stood slowly, and sulked all the way to her door. His spirit broken, he faltered at the door handle. What would she say? What if there was more to the spell than the slashing? What if she hated him too? “It’s all my fault,� he said, though believing it slightly less after talking to her parents.

He turned the handle, and tried to close the door as quietly as possible, but found the room’s only occupant was Hermione. He saw her lying on the bed, a sleepy smile on her face. It was the smile Harry always imagined he would see on a benign angel’s face. He shuddered when he saw the giant, gauzy bandage covering her abdomen through her meager gown. It appeared to be newly changed, but already, blood was appearing through the material. “I’m pretty,� she said with a light laugh.

“Uh, what?� he asked, bewildered (and secretly hoping her brain hadn’t been addled).

“I look pretty in this ensemble, don’t I? Only the best designers in Italy were allowed to create my hospital gown.�

“I guess so,� he said, with little appreciation for her humor. He sat heavily in the chair already beside her bed. “So, uh, you talked to Ron, I see.�

A serious look covered her face. “He’s scared, Harry. Don’t be angry with him.�

“I’m not, really. He hates me more than anything.�

“He doesn’t hate you. He just feels powerless, and this is the first time Voldemort really hit him where it hurts.�

“Okay,� he said lamely.

“About the other day…� she said, testing the air, “I froze. I don’t know why. My wand was still in my pocket, and I didn’t even try to grab it, even when you two were dueling. I’m so sorry, Harry,� she said quietly. “I was useless . . .�

“But why did you freeze? I mean, you fought with me in the Department of Mysteries. You were great. You’re always calm.�

“Not always. I was panicking that night, too. You pretty much told us what to do. But a few days ago, it was just him and us, and it’s never been us two, and someone like him. There was nothing to break, no doors to lock, nothing to throw. It was me, you, and a brick wall.�

Harry thought through all their adventures. The only time Hermione had been the only one with him, was when Umbridge was around, and while she was evil, she wasn’t throwing hexes at them. First year, the tasks. She wasn't there at the end. Second year, she helped in figuring things out, but it was just him and Riddle. Third year, she stood up for him, yes. She was brilliant with the time-turner stuff, and she called away Lupin, but she didn't fight him. Fourth, nope, all him. Fifth, Department of Mysteries . . . she did have orders. She came up with the curses herself, of course, but she had all her friend to help too. It was rarely ever just her and Harry.

Then it dawned on Harry. Hermione never felt the pressure to be a savior before. Confronted with a situation she wasn’t used to - as a leading heroine - she froze. She was good, calm, collected, and brilliant, but even she got too scared sometimes.

He grabbed her clammy hand and held it in both of his. “I know it was bad for you. You don’t have to be around me, if you don’t want to. I understand if you don’t want to be put in that position again-“

She’d stopped tearing up. “Don’t be ridiculous,� she said gently. “I’ll be better soon. The only thing to be done about it is practice. Could you just, like, stomp on my foot or something the next time it happens?�

“I’m not going to stomp on you,� he said.

“Harry, please? Can we do some kind of training then? Anything? I can’t be useless! I can’t sit around and let everyone else decide what happens to us. I have to help. You’re the only one that can help me.�

“You’re not going to freeze again. Everyone has a moment of weakness-“

“Not me. You never do.�

“I do all the time. Loads of weak moments.�

“Please, Harry? Promise me?�

Harry thought for a moment. He looked into her desperate eyes. Hermione really couldn’t stand failure, he realized. He was touched by the fact that she was willing to risk so much by remaining his friend. He regretted any bad thought he’d ever had about her.

“I promise,� he said, feeling a little mushy.

“Really?�

“Yeah,� he smiled tenderly. “You’re a fighter, Hermione, I’ve got to give you that. And I think we’d be lost without you.�

She only smiled in response.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Hermione drifted off to a light sleep while Harry smoothed her hair back from her forehead. She seemed to like it, and it seemed to soothe her. The freshly changed dressings had only gotten worse since he came in the room. They probably would need changed again soon. His eyes welled up a bit as he looked at the blood. He looked around the room, and didn’t see anyone, and so, let a tear or two fall. He hated himself for failing her.

He wouldn’t let it happen again, though. He’d try to help Hermione, but he wasn’t ever going to let something like this happen again.

He hated being the Chosen One. It felt like a sick cosmic joke. He looked at her hand. Taking hold of it, he kissed it and held it to his forehead. He leaned forward and let all his self-pity and hatred drain out onto her hospital blankets. “I’m sorry . . .� was all he could whisper aloud.

Ron stealthily watched Harry through the window in the door. He was surprised to see his best friend treat Hermione so tenderly. It was too sad of a moment for Ron to feel jealous. He wondered privately if he was too hard on him. He saw Harry lean forward onto the bed, looking emotionally spent.

Ron felt terrible for harassing Harry. It was more of a misplaced aggression. Ron felt guilty for leaving his girlfriend behind. "I just took Ginny and ran," he thought, feeling miserable and selfish. Harry appeared to have fallen asleep, so Ron turned and walked back to the waiting room hunched over, the same way Harry walked out.

Chapter Thirteen

Hermione wasn’t to go back to her parents’ home. Upon leaving St. Mungo’s, the Grangers were advised to stay well clear of the magical world, and possibly to move out of the country. Their daughter was a dangerous connection to have, especially when Death Eaters were under the impression that she was Harry’s romantic interest.

After two days of waiting around in St. Mungo’s, watching Ron pace and frown, Harry found out Hermione would be coming home to stay at Grimmauld place with him and the Weasleys. She was healing at a remarkably fast rate, even for a witch. Still, Mrs. Weasley promised to care for her as if she was one of her own children. This, of course, went without saying.

Back at Grimmauld Place, the atmosphere was beyond sedate. Ron spent a lot of time at her bedside, causing Ginny to be quite disgruntled. She was constantly being kicked out of her own room, either directly or by her gag reflex. More than once, Harry caught them kissing, which was still awkward for him. Usually, though, Ron could be seen holding her hand, changing her dressings, helping her to a drink, and otherwise being an adept caregiver.

The way Ron was treating Hermione reminded Harry of the way Mr. Weasley tended to his wife. They were alike in many ways. A curious feeling that lay buried somewhere in a dark corner of his mind began to make itself known. Harry wondered if he would ever care for someone the way Ron cared for Hermione.

While Harry would have liked to spend time with Hermione, he ended up spending more and more time with Ginny. They practiced seeking in the attic most afternoons. They occasionally paused to dig through some of the property of the House of Black. The two managed to locate several items of questionable interest, including toes cut from house elves (Hermione would have been beside herself), scrolls in an ancient script, and pixie blood (what in the world was that for?). Harry also found a box containing items that instantly awakened his curiosity, but decided to save a look-over for later.

Harry was not at all surprised that he was having fun with her. He even began to regret that he hadn’t noticed her when he was caught up with Cho Chang. Of course, now she was with Dean. “She could do better,� he'd often thought.

Soon - too soon even - it was the day reserved for packing. The next day they would be traveling to King’s Cross, and onward to their studies, rumors, and beloved headmaster. Hermione’s recovery had gained speed with her few days of rest, and found she could do most activities well enough. Ron, however, agreed to help her with tasks she wasn’t yet capable of. She was thrilled to learn she would be able to start term on schedule. She assured everyone that she didn’t want to miss out on the action, but they all knew she simply would faint if she had to miss a class.

The returning Hogwarts students ran about the old, creaky house collecting their strewn belongings. With four of them, the stairs sounded as if they were wheezing, and the floor boards seemed to have whooping cough. Mrs. Weasley kept shouting for them to calm down; that there was plenty of day left to get ready. Meanwhile, she bustled about, washing their robes, and helping where she could.

Ron graciously offered to pack Hermione’s trunk for her, but Ginny refused to let him near her trunk. “There are things that are personal to girls, thank you!� she snapped.

Ron, of course, had no idea what Hermione could have that he couldn’t see.

As Ron and Ginny had their trunks to pack, Hermione offered to help Harry collect his items. He wasn’t known for his organization skills. She was also hoping to have a word with him without the others around.

“It’s a good thing these trunks are expandable, Harry, or you’d be in a predicament,� stated Hermione as she gently folded a shirt and placed it on top of a growing pile.

“Well, I didn’t really have much before I started Hogwarts, so I guess I just keep everything that’s given to me. Memories, and all,� he smiled lopsidedly.

“Careful, one might think you’re a romantic,� she said with a raised eyebrow.

“Fat chance!� he laughed.

Mrs. Weasley flew in and dropped a letter on his bed. "Just arrived for you, Harry," she said as she just as quickly escaped the room.

A look of comprehension hit Hermione’s face. Predictably, she squealed. “Oh, Harry, is it what I think it is?�

Harry smirked, tapping his palm with the envelope. “Well, that depends on what you think it is.�

“Don’t play. Are those your O.W.L. scores, finally?� She looked as if she was going to start jumping on her knees, then and there.

“I dunno,� he shrugged. “Let’s find out, shall we?�

“Yes!� she said loudly, annoyed. “Just open it!�

Harry laughed and slipped his finger under the flap, ever-so-slowly tearing it. It was great fun taunting Hermione, the Queen of All That is Scholastic. She sent him a scathing gaze in return. Becoming curious himself, he decided to go ahead and open it.

ATTN: Harry Potter
Subject: O.W.L. scores

Dear Mr. Potter:

Your test results have been processed. The theory portions of your exams were rated by your instructor. The practical portions were judged by the appointed judges. The final result was computed by an unbiased source, to ensure scoring integrity.

Please peruse your results. Your instructors at Hogwarts have previously been notified of your scores, and have scheduled your classes accordingly.

Good luck with all your future endeavors.

Sincerely,
Ordinary Wizard Level
Reviewing Committee

“Hermione, be quiet! I haven’t even gotten to the marks yet,� Harry laughed.

She kept as calm as she was capable while Harry’s eyes darted over the second page. He appeared to be contemplating. There were a couple of iffy subjects for him last spring, and he needed an ‘O’ in Potions in order to pursue becoming an Auror.

“Well?� she said when she could contain herself no longer.

He grinned. “Thank god for unbiased - er - computers. No, wait . . . Oh, no matter. I got an ‘O’ in Potions!"

“How is that possible?�

“The unbiased person took my practical to mean more than my theory. I would have to know the theory in order to do great on the practical, right?�

“Right,� she paused, and a new spark of laughter lit her features. “Oooo, Snape will be so angry!�

He scoffed. “Yeah.�

“Well, the rest?� she pushed, as if she were dealing with a thick version of Harry.

“Oh, well, I got an ‘E’ in Astronomy-“

“As if anyone scored well during THAT test-“

“And a ‘D’ in History of Magic. Same for Divination. Hm, no loss there,� he paused for a little more dramatic effect. “And on the rest . . . all ‘O’s’!�

“O my goodness, Harry!� she buried him in a hug the best she could. “That’s so wonderful!�

“Thanks!� he beamed.

On they went with the packing. Mrs. Weasley breezed through the room, dropping off Harry’s robes, and rushed off to give Ginny and Ron the rest of them.

Ginny also stopped in looking hassled. “Hermione, how in the world did you manage to strew your books throughout the house? It’s been a right pain finding them all!�

Harry and Hermione grinned. “Sorry Mum,� said Hermione, “I’ll make sure to make my bed as well.�

“Don’t take that tone with me, Missy,� she replied, still seriously, and at the same time, buying into the joke. “You can owe me one for packing your trunk.�

After she left, Harry said, “She’s been collecting many I.O.U.s lately.�

“Be afraid,� said Hermione. She winced as she bent at an awkward angle. Her sore flared up, and a grimace of pain crossed her face. She recovered quickly, but Harry was sure it was only a brave face she was putting on.

“Are you ok?� he asked, moving to help.

“Yes, yes. I’m fine,� she pushed him away.

After a short pause, Harry ventured to ask her a question. “Er . . . Hermione?�

“Mm?�

“For . . . Diagon Alley . . . Do you, I mean, are you . . . angry at me? That I didn’t protect you?� his face was the picture of regret.

“What? Of course not! You tried to block me, I just was sticking out a bit, I guess,� she said humorously.

A welcome breath of relief entered his lungs. The subject reminded Hermione about something. “Are you and Ron going to talk soon?�

His head hung slightly lower. “No . . . not yet. Lately - ever since I came here, really - Ron’s been – er - a lot more emotional.�

Tactfully, Hermione asked, “Has he mentioned the Department of Mysteries to you?�

“Yeah, once, when we were sloshed.�

She raised her eyebrows. “When you two drank?�

Harry smiled in answer.

She pursed her lips for a moment, then continued. “They attacked his mind - those brains - his every weakness. They said terrible things to him. It was very hard for him to forget. He believed them, and felt guilty for it. Don’t you see? His reaction to what happened in Diagon Alley stems more from that than any anger toward you.� She sighed. “When he recovered a bit, I came to stay. To help him through everything. One night, I was up late, reading. He rushed in and blurted out that he fancies me, and thought we should be together.�

“So now you’re a couple?�

She blushed. “I guess when his defenses came down, he found it easier to tell me how he felt.�

“Okay,� said Harry. Suddenly, this conversation had become really uncomfortable. He desperately wanted to change the subject. “I’m glad you can ride to Hogwarts on time. The train ride would be weird if Luna were to take your place.�

He knew that would rile her up. “That girl, who believes in utter nonsense? You would have her take my place?�

He grinned at her, and she laughed back. “I don’t need to say I would die if I missed the first classes. I wonder who the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher is going to be.�

Harry wondered, privately, if the reason why Snape was never given the post had something to do with what Harry saw in the pensieve.

They continued to talk about things that would happen over the next year. Soon, his mind wandered, and he began to wonder what was being said in the many meetings that had occurred while he was at Grimmauld Place. What had Voldemort been up to? Harry suddenly realized - for the second time - that no one was telling him what Voldemort was up to.

Ron wandered in. He looked determined to do something. He looked Harry in the eye. “I’m sorry. I was out of order. I’m glad you were there with Hermione.�

“It’s all right, mate,� said Harry with a smile.

Tears were forming in Hermione’s eyes.

“Why are you crying?� asked Ron.

“You boys! Why do you . . . Oh nevermind!� she said, wiping her eyes.

“Question,� said Ron.

“Answer,� said Harry.

“How does it feel to own your own house?�

“Huh?� asked Harry, snapping out of his thoughts.

“This place,� he gestured around him. “It’s yours.�

“What are you talking about?� demanded Hermione.

“I happened upon the drawing room and heard a conversation between Mum and Remus. They were talking about Lupin being the guardian of the estate until you graduated. Wicked, isn’t it?�

“Maybe. It’s creepy, though. Still, I suppose we’ve had some happy times here. Remember Christmas?� Harry reminisced.

Hermione interrupted. “Suits that old hag just fine, losing the house to a half-blood.�

Her comment had a bitter edge, and Ron and Harry felt a bit sad for her. It had to feel horrible being ostracized from the day she learned about the magical world. She didn’t totally fit in with wizards or Muggles. The two worlds seemed to be moving closer together every day, though.

“Well, Ron,� said Harry, “you’d better get your trunk packed, or we’ll have to leave you behind this year.�

“And miss Potions?� he scoffed. “Not for thirty chocolate frogs!� he said sarcastically.

Chapter Fourteen

Were it not for the bright sunshine- and Mrs. Weasley’s annoyed shriek- Hermione, Ginny, Ron and Harry might have never woken up. “You’re running late!� the less-than-benign voice wafted up the stairs. “It’ll be your heads if you miss the train!�

Not moments later, the two girls strolled into the room with an air of superiority. “Still getting ready, are you?� asked Ginny.

“Yes, I find it quite funny that we’ve managed to finish before you. Nice boxers, Ron,� said Hermione with a mischievous grin.

“Yeah, yeah. Stop bragging and help us then. How did you get ready so fast, anyway?� asked Harry.

“Tonks showed us a charm to apply instant makeup. You just say ‘Asthetium’ and then whatever look you’re going for,� replied Ginny.

Harry thought Ginny must have been going for model, because she looked quite pretty. Her eyes looked brighter, somehow. Her hair was rolled up into a bun, too, and Harry thought it made her look a few years older.

If the girls were fishing for compliments, they didn’t show distress at their failure. They knew the boys were dunces when it came to the fairer sex.

It was a dark, stormy-looking day; one not at all good for travel. Harry sighed at the scene through the window. He hoped it wasn’t an omen for how the school year was going to be. He sorely wanted one normal year at Hogwarts, but knew it was unlikely. The only way he could have a normal life was if Voldemort died.

Ron finally finished dressing, his hair at all angles, and turned around to growl at the girls. They were impatiently tapping their feet on the floorboards, trying to catch a rise out of him. “You know, if we waited in your room while you dressed, we’d be swat and cursed into oblivion,� he said, feeling disadvantaged.

Joyous thoughts entered the minds of the young men.

“Well, as the founders believed, girls are more trustworthy than boys-“

Both of the boys scowled. “But!�

Hermione continued with a knowing smile. “Plus, we’ve got more to see,� she said as the Ginny laughed.

“Hurry up you four!� came a scream from downstairs.

The teenagers all looked at each other. Mrs. Weasley was always rushed on the days they had to catch the Hogwarts Express, but she was never this tense. They heard leather stomping wood all the way up the staircase. Suddenly, she appeared in the doorway, for all the world looking like Medusa. “If I have to tell you one more time!� she shouted at them, standing with empty, slightly shocked looks on their faces.

“Mum, what’s wrong?� asked Ron.

She paused to look at her youngest son. Her bottom lip twitched. “An Auror went missing from the Ministry last night. There aren’t that many of them! If we lose the Aurors, we’re at a serious disadvantage! And what if Tonks, or Moody, or King-“

“Mum, I’m sure he’ll turn up. It’s not just anyone that is made an Auror,� said Ginny consolingly.

“Yeah, even if the worst was to happen, you got the new generation right here. Our dear Harry, here,� he hooked his arm around Harry’s neck, “is going to train to become an Auror. Plus,� he continued, “he probably is the greatest weapon the Order has.�

Sadness etched in every movement, Mrs. Weasley slowly moved her eyes to Harry’s. Mutual knowledge passed between them; as sad understanding. The others looked from Mrs. Weasley to Harry and back. This was something Harry had kept from them. Her lip quivered.

Molly then re-set her face. “Well, if you three had worked on Disapparating more often, this whole trip would be much easier, and I could just take Ginny.� She went over to Ron to tug a sweater over his unkempt head, despite his muffled complaints. “Even Fred and George learned to before their sixth year!�

“Mrs. Weasley?� asked Hermione weakly.

“Yes dear, does your sore hurt?� she asked, looking very concerned.

“No, I just wanted to let you know, we’ll learn to do it at school . . . before Christmas.�

She smiled sweetly at Hermione. Molly had begun to get attached to her, being Ron’s girlfriend and all. She also took a lot of notice when Hermione visited to help Ron in the beginning of the summer, and he seemed alleviated when she was there. “Of course, Darling,� she pulled everyone into an embrace. “I don’t know why I’m fussing about it. Well,� she said while standing up. “All set then?� she asked, looking around.

“Like we’d risk your displeasure,� smiled Ginny.

The group laughed at her audacity, and dragged their trunks downstairs. Remembering the interesting items he found earlier, he doubled back, and quickly wrapped them before shoving them in his trunk. He rushed to meet his friends. Waiting near the door was Mr. Weasley. “Let’s go, kids, I’ve got a surprise!�

When they stepped outside, they found an elongated black car. “A limo!� shouted Ron.

“A Ministry limo. Ms. Bones allowed me to use it- it’s reserved for the Minister of Magic, you know. For meetings with Muggle chiefs and such. Amelia said that after what you all went through last year, you should be able to ride in style.�

“Whew! It’s about time I got some fringe benefits!� grinned Harry. The students stowed their trunks in the back of the car, and hopped into the limo along with Mr. Weasley. Ron’s face was so alight with awe and excitement, that he was drooling slightly, and didn’t know it. Hermione looked pleasantly surprised, and decided to lie down, as it was more comfortable for her wound. Ginny looked very proper, Harry noticed. She merely sat down, and smoothed her skirt. She caught his eye and gave him a little smile.

The ride to King’s Cross was spent taking the mickey out of Ron, who was enchanted by all of the extras. There was even a Muggle film in the ‘VCR’ that they watched.

They pulled up to the train station, only to encounter a normal, scuttling crowd. They would be heading to platform nine and three quarters, of course. They dragged out their trunks, propped them on trolleys, and strolled toward their platform. “Mum, why aren’t we rushing? I thought we were running late?� asked a curious Ron.

Mr. Weasley looked guilty. “Your mother may have bewitched the time keepers in the house to read a half hour ahead.

“It’s rather nice not hurrying through King’s Cross. You really get to see the scenery,� said Hermione.

“Uh, Hermione? There’re people, luggage, and train cars. Why would you want to see that?� said Ron.

“Just the same . . .� she dazed off.

Harry and Ron caught each other’s eye, and rolled them. They had arrived between platforms nine and ten, and one- by- one, they casually pushed through the wall to the other side. Just as their group became surrounded by a crowd of Hogwarts students, they heard a sharp voice from behind them. “It’s Potter and the dirty Mudblood!�

Harry knew whose voice that was. He turned around only to see a fist coming at his stomach. It hurt, but not as bad as Malfoy was hoping. Harry inwardly thanked Angelina and Wood for training him so hard. Harry stared at his arch enemy with his mouth hanging slightly open. “What in bloody hell are you doing!� he yelled, surprised at this form of attack from someone who despised everything that came from the Muggle world.

Ron lunged at Draco as Harry was yelling, but was caught around the waist by Hermione. “Your dad will take care of it!�

Sure enough, Mr. Weasley did quick wand-work, and had tied Malfoy’s hands behind his back, magically and invisibly. He reached behind the blond-headed boy, and confiscated his wand, as well. “Try it again, Draco, and you will be prosecuted for assault by Muggle dueling. Need I remind you, that you have an obligation to behave in a courteous manner? Where is your mother? I would like to have a word with her-“

“What? I don’t care! He killed him! He killed my father! And now you’re going to pay; I promise you, you will-“

Harry was shocked. Everyone within a fifty foot radius- otherwise known as Harry’s entire school- was staring at him with the same cold, frightened gaze as when they believed he was the Heir of Slytherin. He groaned, “Not again . . . Look here, Malfoy. I didn’t kill your dad, ok? The last time I saw him, he was alive and well, and trying to kill me and Hermione!�

Abruptly, the moment froze. Ron and Hermione holding hands a little behind him and too the right. Mr. Weasley to the left and in front of him, his wand on Draco. Ginny was somewhere behind him, being held back by her mother. Harry felt a soft brush on his arm, and felt himself being gently pushed to the side. Ginny’s hair glinted in the spackles of sunlight as she passed him. She stood directly in front of Malfoy. He, in turn, only glared at her, sputtering an insult or two. She spoke clearly, and with a touch of disdain. “Touch him again- by hand or otherwise- and I’ll make that bat-bogey hex I threw on you look like I put a flower in your hair,� she stared into Draco’s eye from only a foot away. “Do we have an understanding?�

Malfoy looked like he was biting the insides of his cheeks. He obviously desperately wanted to say something, but seemed to take Ginny at her word. He contented himself with giving her menacing looks. Mr. Weasley, deciding he would not continue, released him and tossed him his wand. “Collect your belongings, Mr. Malfoy, and be on your way.�

Harry could have sworn he saw something wrapped around the wand.

Ron’ dad guided the small group toward the train. “I’m proud of you kids, you know. You really defend yourselves rather well. Although, Ginny, I would caution you to use that particular hex sparingly,� he said, smiling with pride.

Ginny walked defiantly with her nose in the air, taking no notice of her father’s half-hearted request. Harry looked at her with a smirk. She certainly had changed over the years. It was strange, but she was a mixture of all her siblings. Scholastically inclined and proud, like Percy. Mischievous, like Fred and George. Brilliant at wizard chess, and protective, like Ron. Obviously, she was adventurous like her older brothers. Unexpectedly, Ginny caught Harry staring, and a warm flush crept up his neck.

“What?� she asked in mock annoyance.

“Er . . . nothing,� he said, and focused on the space in front of him. Unfortunately, in the space in front of him, were Ron and Hermione, holding hands. While Harry was glad they finally got together (and stopped bickering like rabid dogs), sometimes, they were too cuddly. Now and then, their hands would slip into each other’s back pocket. Wait, Hermione’s skirt didn’t have back pockets . . . oh gross!

If he felt a divide between him and his friends after he heard the prophecy, he was now seeing his own alienation from his friends. Come to think of it, Harry actually missed the fighting.

Hermione was fervently whispering to Ron, and he was smiling calculatingly. Occasionally, they both shot meaningful looks back at Harry and Ginny- who was as yet oblivious to all. As a matter of fact, she still looked livid. Surely, she wasn’t still worked up about Malfoy? Quickly, they arrived at the car they wanted, despite the chattering and stares from fellow students.

They all took turns hugging Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. "Ron, Ginny- oh, really, all of you- had better write as often as possible. We need to know that you’re doing fine, and any news you may have. Oh, Harry, be careful,� said Mrs. Weasley.

Arthur whispered conspiratorially, “Keep your head about you. Practice everything- especially defense skills. Remember, you do have a family, in us. If anything goes wrong, come to us.�

“I will,� said Harry, appreciating the subtle message.

The train began to steam. “All right, you lot. Time to hop on the train. Mind each other!�

The foursome hopped onto the train with haste. They would miss their parents, but every magical child enjoyed the chance to step out of their reach.

Chapter Fifteen

Harry felt the familiar excitement of heading back to Hogwarts, the place he felt was really his home. The foursome searched the cars for an empty compartment. Ron was a bit ahead, and saw an empty one, but so did a second year coming from the opposite direction. They both rushed toward it and grappled with the door handle. Finally, Ron got a good grip on the handle, and when the second year didn’t give up, he shouted, “Oi! Listen here, Nose Nugget, I spent my summer fighting Death Eaters. Just think of what I could do to you!�

The second year’s eyes grew wide with intense terror. He caught sight of Harry behind him, and his eyes flicked up to his scar. He immediately began stammering, turned on his heels, and walked away as quickly and gracefully as he could.

“Ron! How dare you! He was just a kid, and you went and scared the pants off of him!� yelled Hermione.

“What? His pants looked on to me-“

“You know what I mean. We’re sixth years! We have to set an example! And we used to be prefects. People expect more out of us!�

Ron gently ushered her into the compartment and behind her back, mouthed to Harry, “Does she ever stop?�

Harry grinned. It was just like old times. He allowed Ginny ahead of him, and followed his friends into the tiny cubicle-type cabin. Hermione was still ranting. Ginny mumbled something about having to see Dean and took off. Ron shot a jealous scowl at his sister before turning back to Hermione.

“ . . . And it’s not as if you didn’t start giggling manically-“

“You’re right, Hermione. Okay?� Ron was trying to end the argument as quickly as possible. It was becoming all right for him to talk about what happened to him, in reference to fighting with Death Eaters, but it wasn’t yet a time when he was ready to take jokes about it. Hermione caught the warning glint in his eye and immediately bit her lip. She threw herself on him in a hug and quickly pulled back, obviously for Harry’s benefit. Ron, now with a vague smile, and Hermione, both turned toward Harry.

Harry burst out laughing. “Did you see that second year’s face!� and Ron laughed too.

Hermione glared at the two. “Don’t encourage him.�

“Come on Hermione. It was funny,� Harry said, and imitated the poor child’s expression.

The corners twitched on Hermione’s mouth, so she quickly changed the subject. “So, what was the Malfoy encounter all about?�

“Which one?�

“Draco, of course,� she said, perturbed. “I’ve never heard of him trying to do Muggle dueling before. Isn’t he supposed to hate all things Muggle?�

“That was odd,� said Ron.

“Not to mention the small fact that I did not actually kill his dad. Although, if I could do a good killing curse, he’d be good for target practice. It’s a pity I can’t do them yet, really.�

A dark look passed between the three. “Yet, mate?�

The conversation was moving to a place Harry wasn’t comfortable in. “We know you know the prophecy, Harry,� said Hermione matter-of-factly. “I’m not saying you have to tell us, but we’d like to hear when you’re ready. We would like to help.�

“I don’t want you to help,� he grumbled.

“Well, that’s too bad. The more, the better,� she said.

“We’re in this together-� added Ron.

“Whether you like it or not,� she finished stubbornly.

There was an awkward silence punctured by moody looks from Harry’s direction. Hermione sighed and attempted yet another change of subject. “Speaking of together, it seems there is trouble in paradise.�

“What do you mean?� asked Harry, knowing she couldn’t be talking about his un-coupled self.

“Ginny and Dean,� said Ron, and looked at Hermione to continue. He obviously enjoyed knowing what was going on, but still had no clue.

“Well, you know how she told off Malfoy on the platform?�

“Yeah, so?� he said defensively.

“Well, Dean saw the whole thing, and looked a bit jealous. Ginny saw him see her, and then she saw him turn and start flirting with Persephone Pyria.�

“Persephone Pyria?� he repeated dully. He never cared for girlish gossip.

“Ravenclaw. Fourth year.�

“Do you know everyone, then?� Ron asked incredulously.

“I pay attention. Have you seen her?�

Ron and Harry both shrugged. They only knew the people cooped up inside their private world. “Either way,� she continued, bothered by their attention deficit, “Ginny’s gone to clear up the argument, no doubt.�

Ron smiled. “I thought she left to avoid your yelling.�

“I wasn’t yelling!�

“Were,� said Ron and Harry together.

There was a knock at the compartment door. In walked Neville Longbottom. “Hello,� he said quietly.

“Hello Neville. How was your summer?� asked Hermione

“Pretty good, actually. I got a new wand, and Grams has changed a bit. All because of- well- before, you know.�

“We know. Let’s see it!� said Harry. He thought it was about time Neville got a wand of his own. He always had to use his dad’s in the past, and he suspected that was part of the reason his roommate did so badly in classes. Perhaps with a wand well-suited to him, they would see his true potential.

He handed it over, gladly. The wand was made of aromatic cedar wood. “The shop owner said it has an ancient, powerful wizard’s hair in it. I think he was just saying that though- I nearly blew the roof off of the place when I touched it.“

“I’ve never heard of a wizard’s hair being used before,� said Hermione as she inspected it. “Perhaps he was joking.�

“It was bloody time you got your own wand,� said Ron, and they all concurred.

“I’ll probably be loads better at charms, that’s for sure.�

“I wasn’t going to say anything,� laughed Harry.

“It must be nice not having prefect duties anymore,� Neville commented, leaning back in his seat.

Ron answered first. “You bet! I hated running after those little . . . people,� he finished lamely. A glare from Hermione prompted a more appropriate ending. He breathed a sigh of relief when she looked appeased.

“It is rather nice not having to run about all the time. I just hope the new prefects are up to the challenge. Especially in these times.�

“Speaking of, I heard about Diagon Alley.�

“Who hasn’t? For the record, I did no killing. Malfoy cornered me and Hermione in an alley, but we got help. I didn’t see him after that.�

“Malfoy escaped only a couple weeks after the Department of Mysteries.�

“He said that,� said Hermione. “I think he meant to bring Harry back to V-Voldemort, but he saw me, and . . .�

Ron’s face darkened. Hermione did her best to lighten the subject. “Didn’t he say we were a couple?� she laughed uncomfortably.

“Yeah, that was strange.�

Ron piped up. “Hermione is my girlfriend.�

“Way to be subtle, Ron,� laughed Harry.

Neville said, “I know. You two are all anyone’s talking about. Well, that, and Ginny and Dean, and Malfoy, of course.�

“Which?�

“The younger, of course. Don’t you two ever keep up?� snapped Hermione.

“How do they know about me and Hermione?� asked Ron, bringing them back to the subject.

“You were holding hands,� said Neville, as if he was talking to a blockhead.

“Oh yeah . . .�

“Glad to see your injuries all healed,� said Harry.

“I had to stay a while in St. Mungo’s-“

“Oh Neville! I’m so sorry!�

“No, it’s fine. I was allowed to visit my parents as much as a wanted. And Grams, well, she acts proud a lot now.�

“That’s great!�

“Yeah. Glad the Prophet told her, though. I couldn’t have told her everything myself. Listen, Harry? Are you still going to do the D.A.?�

“I hadn’t thought about it.�

“Well, think about it. I think I’ll do better this year.�

“You did great last year- when it counted,� he added poignantly.

Luna Lovegood, looking as flighty as ever, slid open the compartment door. She floated in, and began to lower herself onto the seat next to Harry. He had to budge over quickly to avoid being sat on.

“Er, hello Luna. How are you?� Harry still felt a bit sympathetic towards her because of their talk so many months ago.

“Well, thank you. Did I hear you say you were going to continue D.A.?�

“No, but I might.�

“I heard you were hurt a week ago,� she said vaguely, looking at no one in particular.

“Um, well, I got a couple of scratches-“

“No, I meant Hermione.�

Hermione looked taken aback at being addressed. She likely wasn’t used to people caring about her battle scars. Likely, because she’d never had any before. “Oh, I didn’t think anyone knew I was there. Yes, I was hurt.�

“Ron nursed you back to health I suppose,� she said, in her still-dreaming voice.

“Yeah, what are you getting at?� asked Ron, irritated.

“I wouldn’t have minded that,� she said, and Ron and Harry’s jaws dropped. Hermione’s face was turning red. Luna only sighed. “Well, I’ll just have to settle for Harry then.� Even more to Harry’s surprise, she kissed him on the cheek. “See you soon,� she said, and floated out of the compartment door.

“Oh, the nerve!� spat their bushy-haired friend as soon as Luna was out of hearing range.

“Oh, the hilarity!� laughed Ron. “Ha ha. She’ll settle for you!�

“Hey!� he said, mildly offended.

“I can’t believe she said that . . . that . . .� stammered Hermione.

“Look who’s jealous,� smirked Harry.

“I am not jealous.�

“O, yes you are. You can’t take the thought that I’m man candy.�

Hermione glared at him. “You want to be man candy, then? Hm? Because we might be able to work that out!� She smacked him upside the head.

“Ouch! No, Hermione. I want to be with you. I was just jokin’ there.�

When Harry commenced making gagging noises, Ron’s cough sounded a lot like ‘jealous’.

True to form, Hermione tried to change the subject yet again. “What’s taking Ginny so long?�

Harry thought aloud. “Either they’ve made up, and are snogging, or are having a row.�

Ron said, “I’m surprised she didn’t make prefect. I did . . .�

Hermione replied. “I’m sure Dumbledore noticed how much she takes after the twins.�

“I guess,� said Ron. “Chocolate frogs!� he shouted as the treat trolley passed by. “I actually have some money!� He ordered as many as he could. Hermione and Harry bought equally plentiful, but more varied loads.

For nearly an hour, the trio merely sat and gorged themselves, making goofy faces periodically. “Hermione! Look at all that candy. What would your parents say?�

“They’d keep their mouths shut, knowing I never get candy at home!�

“Whoo-hoo! Rebellious, Hermione!� laughed Harry.

“I like it!� grinned Ron.

A storm of fury in red hair appeared at the doorway to their compartment. “Who cares, Dean? If you can’t handle these things, then you’re better off alone until you grow up! Go back to Persephone or something. It’s over!�

She slid the compartment door open with an almighty whoosh! and slammed it just as hard. She plopped down next to Ron, shaking and breathing hard. When Ron tried to say something, she merely put her hand up. “No. I don’t want to talk about it right now.�

An awkward silence followed this. “So, um, I hope you do D.A. again this year, Harry.�

“You’re going to do it?� said Ginny happily. “Ooo, what are we going to learn?�

Harry’s stomach dropped. “Er- I have no idea.�

“No worries, mate. We can decide the first week. I can’t,� he shoved a chocolate frog into his mouth, whole, chewed, and swallowed, “tell you how glad I am that there are no major exams this year.�

“That’s no reason to slack off, Ron,� admonished Hermione. “N.E.W.T.s are only next year!�

Ginny sighed. “I have O.W.L.s this year.�

“You’ll do fine, Ginny,� said Harry reassuringly. “As for me and Ron here, well, we hope Hermione take good notes,� he grinned at her.

“Not funny,� was all Hermione said. She pulled out a book and began reading.

“Oi! You can’t hide behind that book the whole trip!�

“I want to read ahead.�

“Then read over here! Ginny, will you switch places with her?�

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Just don’t get all disgusting in front of us. There’s no where else to sit.�

“Yes, Mum.�

Ginny sat in Hermione’s old seat, and flashed Harry a quick smile. He smiled back. Hermione settled her head on Ron’s lap, and continued reading, while he absentmindedly stroked her hair and stared out the window. After a moment, Ginny asked, “Harry, could I use you as a pillow?�

He felt a little queasy. “What?� he asked, just to stall. He saw the corners of Ron’s mouth rise, but he didn’t look. “Yeah, all right.�

She laid her head on his shoulder. Within minutes, her deep breathing indicated she was sleep. Ron’s eyes were closed, with his forehead on the window, and Hermione’s book was on her chest. She, too, was asleep. Well, I guess sleep does sound good, he thought, and rested his head in the corner behind him.

Chapter Sixteen

The loud toot the train was emanating was their cue to get ready. Upon waking, Harry realized he couldn’t move. Something heavy was pressing down on his chest, and he was having a difficult time of breathing. He then saw a pool of red hair on his chest, along with a porcelain hand with pink fingernails. Ginny.

Although he’d never slept with a heavy weight on his chest, he decided this was kind of nice. He chose to merely lie there, pretending to be asleep for a moment while the others woke up. When he opened his eyes again, he saw a robed Hermione and Ron looking down at them.

“Aren’t you two just adorable,� said Ron, unhelpfully.

“Awww!� was all Hermione could say.

When Harry tried to move, Hermione stopped him. “No! Gently wake her.�

Harry got scared. “What? How? I don’t know what to do!� he whispered desperately.

Hermione clicked her tongue. Ron looked like he rather sympathized with Harry. “You’re hopeless,� said Hermione, and she carefully shook Ginny awake.

“No Mum, I don’t want to,� she said sleepily, and cuddled closer to Harry.

His stomach was in knots. He silently pleaded with Hermione to help. She spoke louder. “Ginny! The train’s stopped. Here are your robes. Put them on,� she said sternly, and tossed her robes onto her reluctant friend.

Ginny grumpily got up and dressed in her robes, while Harry did the same. He whispered a thanks to Hermione. The foursome got off of the train, and roamed toward an empty carriage with the familiar thestrals at the harnesses. With a sigh, Ron said, “We didn’t see much of Malfoy on the train. Damn, it was becoming tradition,� he dripped with sarcasm.

Hermione looked haughty. “Good. We can start a tradition of Malfoy-free train rides.�

“You spoke too soon,� said Ginny, pointing at the blond demon himself.

“Potter! Do you seriously always have everyone else do your dirty work? Even your weasel girlfriend is in on it now,� he eyed her appraisingly. He obviously wanted to save face from the incident before the train, without losing a limb to Ron’s little sister.

“Sure,� said Ginny. “At least he has real friends, unlike those power-hungry goons that have their noses glued to your bum.�

“Speaking of brown-nosers,� he said, side-stepping the cut on his friends, “I hear Hermy, here, can’t even save her own skin, much less Scar-head. At least that’s one good thing my father did before he died, you worthless sack of Mudblood.� He’d paid Hermione an insult beyond words. He had pulled the last card out of Hermione’s ‘Just Ignore Him’ deck.

“Considering how many times I’ve beaten you- in so many ways- you certainly have some bullocks, you idiot,� she said in the most scathing tone anyone had heard out of her. Then, with a swirling wand movement, and a short incantation (Contortum Cullioniste), Draco was doubled over in pain, and then on the ground. Harry and Ron stared in horror at the spectacle- and it seemed to affect them more deeply than the girls, who stared with a look of complete satisfaction on their surprisingly angelic-looking faces.

When Draco began to stand again- with great effort- the foursome turned quickly, and made their escape into one of the many coaches. The girls were giggling- no, laughing their insides out- until they could no longer breathe. As they doubled over to catch their breath, the boys kept their stunned silence, and fearful stare. Ron broke the silence. “Hermione, how could you do that?�

“What?� she snapped. “You heard what he said. You know what he did, and what he has done to me for years!�

“But that looked really painful,� said Harry.

“It was the equivalent of me punching him in the stomach, or kneeing him you-know-where. The pain only lasts for a few seconds, and a moment later, well . . . a side-effect occurs that I don’t think he’ll be upset about.�

Ginny smiled. “He’ll probably ask you to do it again soon.�

Ron squinted his eyes. “What side-effect?�

“Well. Hm, how can I put this politely? Pansy Parkinson is probably enjoying the effects right now.�

A realization, and a graphic mental image, dawned on the boys. They didn’t like it, but had their own unfortunate side-effects. “Sounds like a favor to me,� said Ron.

“Eh,� said Hermione with a wry grin. “I did it for the seconds of pain. I also wanted to see if it would work. I was reading some healing books while I was tending to Ron this summer, and, well . . . I had no one I was willing to practice on.�

Both the boy’s eyes widened. Ron said, “Thank you so much for not ever practicing on me.�

The girls giggled. The yawns set in, as they all were still rather tired. After a particularly audible yawn from Ginny, Ron asked (to Harry’s embarrassment), “What’s the matter Gin? Your pillow wasn’t comfortable enough?�

Harry and Ginny blushed simultaneously, although on the latter, it looked quite brighter. Harry stared at the floor, but elbowed Ron as discreetly as he could. He also mumbled a choice word or two, but wasn’t heard over Hermione’s screech of “Oh! We’re here!�

Soon enough, the massive cluster of Hogwarts students was ascending the steps to the castle, and followed the hallways to the Great Hall. As always, whispers followed Harry through the giant room. He figured it was about Malfoy, incidents one and two, and blew off the attention. When the four sat down together, though, Harry noticed that Ginny was drawing quite a bit of attention as well- some of it negative. Most of the negative energy was being transmitted by Dean Thomas, somewhat further down the table. “Oh no,� thought Harry. Another uncomfortable year in the ol’ dormitory. Last year was tough on him, when some of his own roommates thought he was mad. He was hoping for a bit more fun, but with Dean’s AND Ginny’s anger, it wouldn’t be the tea party he was hoping for.

“Oh! Look!� said Hermione, gesturing toward the entrance. Her jubilant grin said enough, but like a traffic accident, they couldn’t avoid looking.

With the strut of an international supermodel, Draco Malfoy pompously floated into the Great Hall, if such a combination were possible. He had him arm hooked through the crook of not just Pansy’s arm, but also Millicent’s. He looked happy, and the girls looked flushed and . . . well, as satisfied as Hermione was during the painful bit of her attack on him. Fortunately for the rest of the student body, Malfoy’s body was strategically covered by the many folds of his robes.

“First Years, this way.�

Professor McGonagall’s stern voice rang through the hall, and signaled the beginning of the sorting ritual. She gave the first years instructions, and the hat was brought out and put on a stool. The brim broke open, and the hat began to sing.

“I am called the Sorting Hat
And I have a job to do:
To divide you up among the houses
According to traits that suit you.
Each house has its own strengths
With admirable qualities, all.
You can see them in each student
As you pass them in the hall.
Gryffindor house is so well known
For great valor and great strength.
To save an innocent from danger,
They’ll go to any length.
Hufflepuff house is loyal.
They’re friendly and work hard.
They value fair-play as well,
And effort is never sub-par.
Ravenclaw house is clever,
They’re the smartest of them all.
They know their priorities,
And have got a gift of gall.
Slytherins are so ambitious;
Entrepreneurs to the core.
Many ancestors of this house
Can be found in ancient lore.
Know this before I separate;
It is crucial for you to know.
It’s only as a group undivided,
That our power will continue to grow.
So now I must perform the task
The founders made me for.
Once a group of shared experiences,
You’ll be divided into four."

“Well, that was the same stupid message as last year,� complained Ron. “You’d think it could think of something clever and new with all that time in Dumbledore’s office.�

“Maybe . . . it was a bit . . . I could . . .�said Hermione, deep in thought.

“Hermione? You’ve got to work on clarification, really,� said Ginny.

“What? No . . . thanks.�

Raised eyebrows were all around as the Sorting Hat began its unending task of separation. There were an unusual number of Gryffindors and Ravenclaws this year. Harry thought that had to bode well for the good fight. They, of course, clapped for each addition to their house, as was expected. Right when Ron practically began snoring once again. “Ron! For Pete’s sake, stay awake!’ she hissed.

“Who’s Pete?� he asked, annoyed.

Dumbledore stood, and the room fell silent. I know you are all tired, and would enjoy catapulting into your food, and for that reason, I will get the worst over with.� He smiled at the many faces staring back at him. Some were blank. Some were concerned. Some blessed souls were obviously happy. His eye twinkled at the Slytherin table, with some hidden knowledge. “The forest is forbidden to all who are alive in this castle. However, I simply cannot stop the zombies.� The students looked confused. Zombies were things made up by Muggles to scare their children (and create a fun use for toilet paper).

The esteemed headmaster continued. “Mr. Filch would like me to announce that there are now well over nine hundred forbidden items, with thanks to some recent students. If you have any doubts about the contents of your trunks, please look at the list fastened to Mr. Filch’s door. And now,� the contrast with the serious countenance he now wore was great, “as most of you know, we are at war with the dark side. Lord Voldemort has risen, and has begun taking lives once again. For those of you who have already been touched by a loss, please come see any one of your professors, who would be happy to help or just listen. Some of you may yet see darker times. Those who seek protection for good reasons will always find what they seek within these castle walls. A word to those who wish to take dangerous risks, however,� he paused, gathering his words. “A warning. I cannot protect you from yourselves.�

“Nothing is hopeless. Light will live on. The light is in each of you. Come together to drive away the darkness. Seek happiness. The comfort and protection you seek is here. All you must do, is ask.� Once again, a smile alighted on his face, and the professors and students visibly relaxed. “Now, as some of our foreign friends would say, ‘Chow down’.�

Harry didn’t take time to take in the speech. Instead, he scanned the front table for some familiar faces. Professors McGonagall, Snape, Trelawney, Sprout, Sinistra, and Flitwick were all there, along with Hagrid and- much to Harry’s surprise- Lupin. He flashed a smile at one of his favorite professors, and got a happy grin in return. Already, Harry was feeling less alone.

“Iguthacossysbrkn,� said Ron.

“Swallow!� said a perturbed Hermione.

He did so, then repeated, “I guess the curse is broken. A Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, two years.�

Everyone acknowledged the thought, but they were so hungry, they discarded it and delved into their dishes. After half an hour of gorging, the students were sent to their dormitories to sleep off the weight. The prefects guided the first years to their separate common rooms. After most of the crowd departed, Ron, Harry, Hermione and Ginny stood, and meandered their way to the Gryffindor common room.

The door had already closed by the time they got up there, but a quick “Gobstopper� later, they were inside. Awaiting them was a surprise. A boisterous party was occurring, and on the night before first classes, no less! Hermione was the only one who looked angry about it.

“What’s all this?� asked an astonished Ginny.

Seamus passed her a glass of butterbeer. “We have no idea. This was all set up when we got here.�

“Dumbledore wanted us to pursue happiness, right? Well, far be it from me to disobey!� said Ron, and headed straight for the Butterbeer table. Ginny rolled her eyes and went to go talk to a group of fifth year girls. Ron soon returned, and led Hermione into a shadowy corner.

A song by the Weird Sisters was blasting, although Harry couldn’t tell from where. Radios didn’t work inside the castle grounds. Harry was left alone, and when that happened, he tended to brood, so he searched for someone to talk to. He smiled and gave Seamus a little nod, but he was now talking to Dean, and shot Harry a sour look. Another roommate, gone, he thought. For once, he was actually bothered that Ginny and Dean had broken up on the train.

Thankfully, Katie and Neville came to chat with him. Katie gave him a hug. “So, can’t wait for first practice, eh?�

“I’m banned, remember?�

“Pur-lease. That old frog-woman has got no pull anymore!�

Just then, the portrait opened to reveal Professor McGonagall. Everyone in the room froze. She clicked her tongue at her students. “I shall know who did not get enough sleep by tomorrow morning. However, as your headmaster wishes you to continue as normally, go on . . .Well, go! Have fun.� She said ‘fun’ as if it were a distasteful fungus. The students reluctantly, cautiously began to whisper, laugh and talk again.

“Erm, Professor?�

“Yes, Ms. Bell, what is it?�

“Harry’s back on the team, right?�

“Oh, surely you know the answer to that.�

The three only stared back at her. “Good lord, I thought you were more intelligent than that! Yes, of course he’s back on the team. As if I would ban a member of this year’s house cup champions!�

“You think Gryffindor will win, Professor?� asked Neville.

“Who else is going to?� she bristled slightly. Neville fell silent.

“Professor?� asked Harry, curiously. “Do you know . . .?� he gestured towards the party, moving back into full swing now that no one was going to be punished.

She pursed her lips. “A good host never boasts.�

This surprised them. With a sparkle and an austere air in her wake, she strolled out of the portrait hole, swinging her keys along the way.

Chapter Seventeen

It had certainly been a long night.

If there was anyone who doubted the status of Hermione and Ron’s relationship, the poor soul was soon corrected when they saw the type of kissing the two were performing. Harry wondered how it was they breathed. The warmth of the butterbeer got to others as well. Ginny and Dean would fight periodically. Harry just hoped they reached an agreement soon. He didn’t want another unpleasant year.

Sporadically, another Gryffindor would stroll up to talk with him. He found himself, time and time again, explaining the Draco situation before the train. “No! I did not kill his dad. If he’s dead, someone else did it,� he would say, annoyed. That subject led into what happened in Diagon Alley. “So many dead,� they said. When Harry asked them to explain, he discovered how many died. Several relatives of Hogwarts students died that day. It explained the somber mood of the students at the Welcoming Feast.

It annoyed him when they would react as if he was so brave, standing up to Death Eaters. He didn’t want to be caught in those situations. He hated that his whole life was thrown into this magnified boiler, as if it was a sport to see how many death-defying stunts he could handle before he cracked. For a guilty moment, he wished it on those people surrounding him. He then took it back for all his soul’s worth. He had a weight to bear, and he would bare it alone. There was no use in complaining.

Hermione, who hadn’t told anyone abut her role in the Diagon Alley ambush (or mentioned the second Draco moment of the day), found herself barraged with questions when Harry told the story across the room. “Did it hurt? I would have been so afraid!�

At first she seemed to like the new variety of attention, but eventually got annoyed. She didn’t feel brave, and she didn’t feel quite perfectly healthy yet. Hermione certainly didn’t enjoy being pulled out of her dark corner to be harassed by a bunch of giggling girls. She and Ron were soon seen sneaking up to his dormitory.

Harry wasn’t enjoying himself much, so he went right after them to grab his invisibility cloak. He didn’t want to be stuck waiting for them to finish whatever they planned on doing. He found them sitting on Ron’s bed, his hand on her lap.

“Oh! Heya Harry. Hermione and I just want to-“

“I just came to get my cloak.�

“Where are you going?�

“Just a walk.�

“All right. See you later.�

“Be careful!� Hermione interjected.

“See you,� said he, grabbing his cloak and vanishing before their eyes. They waited politely for the door to open and close again before looking at each other with longing.

“Well, let’s change those dressings, shall we?� asked Ron.


Harry carefully moved through the common room. It was quite the task. The room was positively pulsating with excited students. Harry paused when he saw Ginny. She was sitting by herself in one of the cushy chairs near the fire. She was staring at it in a way that unsettled Harry. She looked empty and forlorn. The flames seemed to reflect some shadows in her eyes. He recognized it as her countenance that long night when they were waiting to hear about Mr. Weasley’s condition. He stood in front of her and knelt. Was she all right? Surely, Dean wouldn’t affect her like that? Harry did something he hadn’t meant to do. He reached in front of him, and was going to move a lock of hair from her face, to better see her eyes, but stopped just short to avoid detection. Inadvertently, his finger had brushed her forehead. Her reaction was to stiffen even more, and squint into the air before her. Had she felt it? Some question formed on her face.

Harry was afraid she could tell he was there, so he ran toward the portrait hole. Luckily, a prefect was just returning, and Harry slipped out undetected. He roamed the corridors, turning by instinct. He just wanted to have time to think, before life got in the way.

He wondered about a lot of things along the way. He thought about how things had changed between Ron, Hermione and himself. He thought about Dumbledore’s warning. He thought about those who’d lost family members, like he did so many times. Sirius crossed his mind so many times, always accompanied by images of the parents he never knew, and the ones he did, and were still alive. He was confused about the condition of Draco’s dad. Why would he think Harry killed him?

Speaking of killing, why wasn’t Voldemort storming into the castle if he knew the prophecy? They were the only ones who could kill each other, after all. But then, hadn’t Dumbledore said there were things worse than death? Was that why Voldemort was still not coming? What was he afraid Dumbledore would do?

As he thought about powers, he thought about girls. Well, Ginny, specifically. Could she see him back in the common room? He knew she was a powerful witch, but could she see through invisibility cloaks? He didn’t think so, and yet . . .

He rather liked that she had become a fixture in his group. Who wanted to be stuck with only a nuzzling couple all the time? In the least, she was helping him to keep his Quidditch skills intact.

As he was pondering a new Quidditch chasing tactic for Ginny, Harry felt a hand on his shoulder. He was surprised to see the wide-eyed wonder herself, Luna Lovegood. “What are you doing here?�

The hood of the invisibility cloak had fallen down, and Harry, lost in his many thoughts, hadn't noticed. ‘Here’ was the courtyard he’s wandered to. The two found a seat near the fountain. Harry took the rest of his cloak off, and rested it across his lap. “Nothing. You?�

She sighed, bored. “Just wanted to get away for a bit.�

“You guys having a party too?�

“No. Too any Ravenclaws lost family. They’re talking it out. Professor Snape is creating calming droughts and light sleeping potions for everyone.�

“How is your family?� he was almost afraid to ask.

He felt bad for Luna, most of the time. Too often, he knew, she was treated badly. It reminded him of the years he’d spent with the Dursleys. He wouldn’t wish it on anyone- except Malfoy, of course. He felt protective toward her, not only out of pity, but because her dad had helped Harry out the previous year.

“I lost a cousin. My father’s taking it badly.�

“I’m sorry . . .�

“Don’t be. My cousin had a good life. Besides, it’s just the way things are now. I’ll have to kill You-Know-Who myself, I suppose.�

If Harry had been drinking, he would have surely shot the liquid out his nose. Instead, he sputtered, “WHAT?�

“If you wouldn’t mind,� she requested politely, “would you keep it down? I don’t want to be chased away by Filch.�

He obligingly lowered his tone. “You can’t kill him!�

“Why? I can. I know of this South African Higatone flower that has magical properties. They say that old Muggle dictator was poisoned with it-“

“Luna, that flower can’t kill Voldemort.�

“Of course it can! All you do is dry it for twenty three days, add the bl-“

“No.�

Any normal girl- anyone else- would have gotten angry, or aloof. Harry knew this girl better. In her head, he thought, she must be in another world, and had no care for anyone else’s thoughts. It was as if she was privy to something Harry was not, but listened only because it was a comfort to others to hear themselves speak. Her face showed interest in his sureness.

“What can kill him then?�

He heard himself say it before he had time to think. “Me.�

“Ok then. Why you?� she asked, as if she heard this over coffee many times over.

“I don’t know.�

“That doesn’t sound convincing. How do you know you can, then?�

“A prophecy said so,� he replied desolately.

She smiled delicately. It was a reaction he hadn’t expected. But then, Luna was unpredictable. He hadn’t told anyone about the prophecy. Not even his best friends knew. So why had he told her? She had a nonchalant air about her. She never fought, got irritated, or loud. It seemed she always knew what to do, but never cared. She looked up at the night sky, comfortable in their momentary silence.

“Er . . .Luna?�

“Mm?�

“Can we, um, keep this between us?�

“Your truth is not for me to tell,� she said dreamily.

Harry felt a kinship with Luna. They both lost people close to them. Both saw and heard Death. He smiled at her upturned face, basking in the moon’s weak glow. She was a comforting presence. “Thanks.�

She cocked her head, with her long, slightly curlier hair tickling her forearm. It was as if she were a wise oracle, straight out of antiquity. And then, with a twinkle, the oracle kissed him on the lips.


With the stealth of a black cat, Ginny had crept to the courtyard behind Harry. She saw the whole scene, and heard their conversation. She might have had time to think, but Harry soon went back to the Gryffindor common room, and Ginny had to get back before him.

When he entered the room, he saw Ginny on the rug in front of the fire, her head in her arms. She looked so desperate; Harry went over to comfort his shaking friend. Once again, she fell asleep on the arm of Harry Potter, who was clueless as to what could upset one of the bravest witches he knew.

Chapter Eighteen

Harry awoke from a lovely dream in which his arms had been wrapped around a girl with long hair. Seconds after he opened his eyes, he touched his lips, remembering Luna’s kiss. It was nice, he was shocked to realize. Her lips were soft . . .

He grinned. He truly felt lighter, mentally. It was as if someone was helping him carry a twenty-ton elephant; ever so little, but ever so enough that he finally got a chance to breath under there. It was just so easy to talk to Luna.

Although it was nice to share the disturbing knowledge, Harry wondered if he would ever be able to tell his friends. He didn’t want them to look at him as if he were gone already. He didn’t want tears. He didn’t want fear or pity- he’d had enough of that last year. Perhaps most importantly, Harry didn’t want his friends to try to save him from his fate. They could live without him, but he couldn’t live without them.

He sighed heavily and sat up. He was the first one awake, and the first one to notice two bodies in Ron’s plush bed. He shook his head in mirth. How silly they were, leaving the bed hangings open, to reveal all. While disgust was his first, gut reaction, the second was a look of amusement. He thought about Luna’s kiss. He thought about the train ride with Ginny, and holding her while she poured out whatever was inside her that night. He realized it would be nice to have someone sleeping in his bed.

A self-conscious blush rose to his face when he noticed Hermione’s eyes open, looking at him. He pulled more blankets onto his lap. “Er, hello Hermione,� he whispered, as if caught doing something naughty.

“Good morning,� she whispered lightly. She was very proper about crawling out of Ron’s bed- her hair looking wild- and sliding her feet into her slippers. Harry could tell she was mortified, and she shot him an if-you-say-one-word look. He snickered as she, in her most dignified way, opened the door and closed it quietly behind her.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Dawn’s light flickered in the raven strands of Harry’s hair, pulling out the tiny gold flecks shorn from an exotic plant only known to the gods of old. He sat near the window, basking in the glow, feeling more rested than he could remember. It was quite a feat, considering he hadn’t gone back to sleep when he woke up to see Hermione leave. That had to have been about two O’clock.

Ron had only awoken once, when his hand slipped over to the empty space beside him. He merely pouted groggily and went back to sleep. Neville, Dean and Seamus were all snoring to their own orchestras. As for the latter two, Harry preferred they stay asleep for a while longer. Too soon, though, everyone began to open their eyes to the first day of classes. Ron noticed the smirk upon Harry’s face immediately. “Shove off, ‘Arry!� he growled. Clearly, it was much too early to tease him mercilessly.

“I wasn’t going to say anything!� Harry laughed, pulling on his robes. He mumbled, “Have fun?� at Ron. He pretended to charge at him, but the look on his face conveyed all the answer Harry needed. He smirked and said, “I’ve got to head to the Owlry before breakfast. Meet you in a minute.�

Harry whistled downstairs to the common room. It was a haunting Irish tune he didn’t know the words to. He didn’t even remember where he’d got it from. It must have emanated from his dream. But why? He did a mental shrug and just as quickly moved on from the pointless pondering.

On his way, he pulled the note he’d written the Order out of his pants pocket and read over it.

Everyone -
Everything is great. Got here ok. Let everyone know.
-H.P.

It was sweet, simple, and to the point. Not much had happened, but he’d promised he’d write more often. Besides, he knew Mrs. Weasley would want to make sure they’d arrived at Hogwarts safely.

When he arrived at the Owlry, he called down an old barn owl. Hedwig, who was sitting on a lower rafter, seemed to hiss at him. “I’m sorry, girl. I can’t use you. You’re too noticeable.� She’d turned her back on him, but nonetheless, he thought she was slightly mollified. He gave the letter to the unfamiliar owl, and it flew off into the morning light.

Harry stared out the window for a moment, thinking about nothing and everything, when he heard a sweet girlish voice. “We should call this our meeting place.�

Harry turned to see a pretty, raven-haired girl with a shy smile upon her visage. “Oh, hello, Cho. How are you?

“I’m well. And you?�

“Well, thanks.�

He watched, and waited while she called down a spotted owl. She made quite a show of tying it to the bird’s leg, and sending it off. Her hands flopped down to her sides. “So . . .�

“Are you team captain for Ravenclaw Quidditch?� Harry knew very well that it was more likely that she was kicked off the team, but didn’t want to start another row.

“No, erm . . . I decided I’d rather concentrate on my studies this year.�

“Oh.�

This was an awkward situation. She seemed to be waiting for him to say something. When that didn’t happen, she said, “Ok. Um, bye then.� Halfway to the door, she stopped and spun around. “Listen Harry. Things ended really badly before, and then the D.A. last year,� she flushed. “I just wanted to say I’m really sorry for what happened.�

“’S ok.�

“No, no it’s not. But it will be. I just wanted to say I’m sorry for the way things happened in the past. And-“ she rushed up and gave him a hug. It was more like a two-second clamp. “I hope we can be friends.�

“I thought we were friends,� he said simply. He knew she just wanted to vent; she likely needed a little relief. Somehow, Harry had begun to get a feel for the things girls wanted to hear.

“Okay,� she grinned. “Bye,� and with a quick wave, she was gone.

Harry rolled his eyes. He was ecstatic that she hadn’t turned into a hose pipe on him. They’d had such bad experiences before, that he felt like he had nothing more to say to her beyond pleasantries. He shrugged, and after an appropriate amount of time, headed down to the Great Hall. He wanted to avoid running into her again at all costs-at least today.

He felt like he was thrown into a new world (again) where girls actually liked him. As far as he could recall, he had trouble finding a date for the Halloween Ball in fourth year. It was as if all the girls had gone bonkers, and had the strong desire to hug and kiss him. He didn’t mind it, somehow, but was thrown off by it.

When he got to the Great Hall, he saw Hermione sitting with Ron and Ginny. The night’s sleep had done nothing to placate Dean and Seamus, who made a point of sitting at the other end of the table. Hermione seemed to be avoiding eye contact. It was terrible timing, because Harry wanted her to pull off her girl’s intuition and ask him what was going on. When he wasn’t successful, he made a mental note to talk to her later. He noticed a rude hand gesture from the wrong end of the table, and began to get a little annoyed. Who did they think they were anyway? He didn’t do a thing to them!

“Don’t worry about it Harry,� said Ginny. “He’ll be calming down now.� Ginny seemed to be avoiding eye contact as well. Was she embarrassed about the night before? He didn’t think she should be. Then again, he had no idea why she was up so late, or why she was upset. He had a nagging feeling that it had something to do with the night before, when he thought she’d seen him under his invisibility cloak.

He looked at her suspiciously, as did her brother. “Tell me you didn’t slip a potion into Dean’s drink,� said Ron.

“All right, if that’s what you want to hear,� she said snottily.

“Which potion?� asked Hermione.

“A calming drought,� she replied in a kinder tone.

Hermione nodded approval. “That should help.�

“You’re okay with that?� Ron asked incredulously.

“Well, no need to take that tone with me, but yes. It’s just what he needs.�

“What he needs is to get another girl. Moving on does wonders-“

“And what would YOU know about that, hm?�

“Nothing,� he seemed to be avoiding Hermione’s fuse. “Just heard it somewhere.�

Harry wasn’t paying attention anymore, though. He was thinking about Luna’s kiss. The way her hair was blowing, and the way her eyes closed before she got too close to his face . . . He was also thinking he may want to do it again. He’d never had a kiss before that wasn’t sopping wet. He came to, and saw Ginny looking through him. Her eyes had a sheen to them. She looked truly concerned about something. She blinked, shook her head, and stared at her empty plate. She pointlessly scraped her fork across it, pushing some imaginary food.

Then, a delightfully pink, lavender-scented note fluttered over to Harry from the Ravenclaw table. Harry flushed. “Why can’t girls keep this stuff to themselves?� he murmured to Ron. Hermione looked happy for the distraction.

“Well? Open it! Who’s it from?�

“I know who it’s from,� he said, not knowing if he liked it yet.

She shot him a questioning look. It was accusatory, as if he was purposely keeping something from her.

“Luna,� Ginny said, barely audible.

“How do you know?� Harry demanded. Now he was sure she’d seen him the night before. But even if she did, how would she know what happened in the courtyard? Maybe she was a Seer!

“It’s just, er-“ she seemed to be searching for an answer. For some reason Harry couldn’t conceive of, his anger was rising. Relief poured over her face when she said, “It’s on the outside of the letter.�

“Oh,� was all he could say. He’d expected more.

Hermione and Ron were watching the exchange with avid interest. Hermione wore an expression of deep concern. Ron spoke. “Whoa, Harry. You want to ease up on Gin? What’s going on?�

“Well, isn’t it obvious? Luna fancies Harry-“

“Correction, she’s SETTLING for Harry. But that doesn’t explain why he’s getting on Ginny.�

Hermione rolled her eyes in answer. “Anyway, why is she sending love notes now? What happened to start all this?� A sharp intake of breath, “Unless . . .� Her eyes widened.

“I know. Yes,� he conceded.

“Yes?� she repeated.

Ginny was looking at her hands clasped in her lap. Ron couldn’t seem to figure out what it all meant. Harry gestured for them to lean in. Only Ron and Hermione did so. “Last night, when I went for a walk? She, uh, found me. We talked for a minute, and . . .she kissed me.�

Ginny fell into a strong coughing fit. “I, uh,� cough, “have to go,� she croaked, and ran from the Great Hall. Stares followed her out, including one of vague concern from her ex-boyfriend at the end of the table.

Ron raised an eyebrow. “Did you two have a row?�

“It’s not me. She was upset last night, too.�

“She’d gone through a breakup, Harry. Of course she was upset.�

“No, no. This was something else.�

“How would you know?� asked Ron.

He shrugged.

“You’re a girl,� said Ron to his not-so-adoring girlfriend.

“Thanks, I knew that,� she snapped.

“Well, go after her! You’re better at this than we are.�

“I WILL! I’m waiting for Professor McGonagall to give us our schedules first,� she huffed.

Prompt as always, their Transfiguration teacher nearly flew by; gibing everyone adequate time to look over their classes. Hermione grabbed hers and Ginny’s, and ran after her friend.

With Hermione gone, the subject turned to the newly arrived schedules. “Let’s see,� said Harry, setting aside his unread pink note. “I’ve got Transfiguration, Potions (he grimaced), and Charms. Tomorrow, I have Care of Magical Creatures and double Defense against the Dark Arts.�

“That’s different.�

“Yeah, that’s all there is. Every other day.�

Ron grinned. “More free time, then!�

He smiled back. “So what’s your schedule?�

“Well, I didn’t get into Potions- what bad luck I have, eh? I don’t have Divination or History of Magic-“

“You’re lucky! Those are the ones we hate the most!�

“Yeah, but I can’t be an Auror.� Harry knew Ron wanted to be an Auror as much as he. He just wasn’t scholastically inclined enough.

“Sorry . . .�

“It’s all right.�

“You think of another career?�

“Well, yeah, actually. You can’t laugh.�

“I won’t,� he replied, but prepared to keep quiet in case it was funny.

“I think Muggle Relations would be ok.�

“That’s brilliant! You’d be good at it.�

“Hermione thinks so too. Anyway,� he smiled, “Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms. Then Muggle Studies and double Defense against the Dark Arts.�

“Three classes together. That isn’t bad.�

“Not bad at all,� smiled Harry. “One question, though. Why do you have to have so much DADA?�

“Well, we don’t normally deal with Muggles too much unless something bad’s going on.�

“What’s Hermione doing?�

His face contorted. “Translation.�

“What? What does that mean?�

“Well, you know that old parchment she’s been working on? She liked it so much, she wants to do it for a living.�

“I thought she wanted to heal?�

“Well, that’s her backup plan. She’s doing Ancient Runes still, Arithmancy, Potions, Charms, DADA, and Herbology.�

He laughed. “That’s it?�

He smirked in return. “No, that’s all I can remember. The translation is something she does on the side. She said that if she needs to, she can go to Muggle university for it.�

“Has she figured out any more of the parchment.�

“No. . . she hasn’t had time to . . . with Diagon Alley and all.�

“Oh, I was just wondering. Hope Ginny’s ok,� he said as an afterthought.

“Maybe she’s jealous,� said Ron offhandedly, just before taking a big gulp of pumpkin juice.

The revelation startled Harry more than words could say.

Chapter Nineteen

Ron and Harry made their way to Transfiguration. Hermione wasn’t there. They shrugged. Harry wasn’t surprised. As a Healer, what would she need to transfigure?

Professor McGonagall swept into the room, her shoes clicking a quick rhythm up to her desk at the front. “Welcome to N.E.W.T. level Transfiguration. As all of you have at least narrowed down your career paths, I expect great effort in this class. It is imperative to your futures. Many of you have likely noticed that you have fewer classes. Three a day, to be exact. Let me assure you that your free time is not reserved for horseplay. You will need that time for your studies and other commitments: academic and athletic.�

Many students were smirking at one another. Their collective thought was “Nope. Horseplay it is.� To Harry’s great dismay, Malfoy could be seen across the room. He scowled at Ron and Harry while Professor McGonagall cleared her throat.

At a higher pitch, she continued. “Should you have any doubts as to your ability to pay attention, and take this class seriously,� she looked down her nose at a few students, including Ron and Harry, “I suggest you leave now. I’ll not have riff-raff during such an important year!�

Harry was trying to hide a smile. “Hey Riff,� he whispered under his breath.

Ron snorted. “Hey Raff. Want to do some horseplay?�

Luckily, the professor didn’t hear them, although the room had fallen deafeningly silent. No one moved. No one breathed. This seemed to suit her just fine. “Today, we will begin learning some very difficult magic. To begin with, we will practice on these potted plants. Morphindelia are very fragile and difficult to come by. They are protected by the Ministry of Magic. They cannot be touched by hands, else they will die. Understand the importance of them. They can help soothe someone dying in great pain. Some of you may very well have a need of it someday- particularly if you happen to kill one today. Two students will work on a plant at a time. We shall turn them into an object that one is unlikely to touch. Any guesses?�

The class only stared at her. Now that she had threatened their lives if they killed a plant, no one wanted to risk speaking in its presence.

“Oh, for Merlin's sake! Just to remind those of you who may have forgotten. You can only use your powers to their greatest ability when you relax and focus. I daresay some of you need more discipline in that. We shall be transfiguring the Morphindelia into a painting. Any questions?�

A hundred hands went into the air with a thousand questions. “Exactly how do we do this?�

“Consider this a laboratory class, Ms. Jones. You already know the basics of Transfiguration. It is high time you used those skills to do things on your own. As you practice this method, your talents will grow.� This earned a groan from the class. Her mouth pinched into a thin line. “Any of you are welcome to leave. Those who wish to continue on their chosen career paths, get to it.�

Ron turned to Harry and grinned. “Let’s make a lovely painting of a white ferret, mid-air!�

It had turned out to be easy to turn the plants into a framed piece of canvas, but the art portion needed work. It wouldn’t be believable unless they could turn it into at least a mockery of a true painting. Their ferret looked like a five-year-old’s imitation of a cloud. Not to mention there were leaves sticking out of the background. They discovered that in their desire to be creative, they wasted much time. Nearly every other group had created the Mona Lisa, Scream, and other such works that were emblazoned into their brains.

Close to the end of class, a valid question was raised. “Professor? If we are transfiguring this plant to keep it from being touched, does that mean there may be paintings in the castle that are transfigurations? I mean, there must be thousands-“

“I do not pretend to know all of the secrets of this castle, Mr. McMillan, nor of its many objects.�

Ron whispered, “Does it seem to you she knows more than she lets on?�

“No,� he said seriously. “I know she does.�

At the end of class, as the students straightened their places and moved on to other classes, Professor McGonagall called, “Mr. Potter, please stay back. I would have a word with you.�

It sounded like dire news. Had she heard them talking through the class? Harry caught Malfoy dallying with packing his belongings. He wore his characteristic smirk. This one meant “Ha ha, you got in trouble.�

Harry made a rude gesture at him where no one else but those two could see. “Mr. Malfoy!� she barked, “Surely you have better things to do than dawdle around here for scraps of gossip.�

The students that remained in the classroom were aghast. They scurried out of the room, convinced that they would not be the ones on the bottom end of her metaphorical fly swatter. Malfoy, with an offended swish of his robes, stormed out of the classroom, mumbling something about notifying the proper people of her behavior. Ron blurted out a goodbye, and was about to rush off when she said, “Mr. Weasley. You as well.�

Convinced they were in a load of trouble, they mournfully moved to the front of her desk. “Well, I think I will be direct, for the sake of time,� she said, watching them shift their feet uncomfortably. “I believe you both are well-suited for the position of captain for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. The dilemma is this: Of the two of you, Harry has been a member of the team the longest,� Ron looked crestfallen. “But, Mr. Weasley, you have great tactical and strategic ability. I want a smooth transition should Harry have other commitments as well. What I am proposing is that you two be co-captains. Does that please the both of you?�

“Well, Yes but . . .� Harry began.

“Yes?�

“Katie Bell has been on the team the longest.�

“Ms. Bell has already expressed her disinterest in the position, Mr. Potter. Are we settled then?�

“Yes,� they both beamed.

“All right,� she was back to her businesslike tone, “off to your next classes,� she snapped a little harsher than was necessary. Harry thought she wanted to avoid having a moment.

They waved goodbye to each other as Ron went out to Hagrid’s hut for Care of Magical Creatures. Harry headed down to the dismal dungeons for Potions. He was relieved he hadn’t been made sole captain. He knew it was Ron’s dream, and didn’t want to deal with the ensuing jealousy if Harry got all the glory. Visualizing the first team practice put Harry in even higher spirits, which Snape attempted to snuff upon entrance into his dank classroom.

“Potter. Wipe that mentally deficient smile off your face. No need to make your poor abilities plain to all.�

Harry scowled at the snickering students. Of course, his archenemy, Malfoy, was there to share the joy that was making fun of Harry. Naturally, nearly half the class was composed of only Slytherins. To his relief, Hermione rushed in breathlessly and sat in the empty seat next to him. “Ms. Granger. See if you can manage to respect class time. Forty points.�

Her hand trembled at the injustice, but she said nothing. She knew better than to antagonize her greasy-haired professor any more than was strictly necessary.

"As many of you know, this is a N.E.W.T. level Potions class. Some of you barely made it here,� his lip curled when his flashing eyes rested on Harry. “So, in order to stay, you’ll need to have half a brain. If you cannot manage that, I will ask you to leave. As overage wizards, we cannot stop you from leaving. In some cases, I may encourage it,� he paused. “That said, your task today is to begin preparation of your Polyjuice Potion ingredients. This potion will take a month to complete, to take precautions now. Instructions,� he waved his wand, “are on the board.�

Eyes widened with shock. All eyes except Hermione’s and Harry’s, that is. He shot her a sly grin. “Think we can manage it?� he whispered.

“Twenty points, Potter!� Snape snapped. He had, like a Bengal tiger, been waiting to pounce on Harry with the slightest flaw in his behavior. As he and Hermione had already lost sixty points for their house, he decided to keep quiet this once.

He was quite glad when he exited the Dungeons some time later with Hermione. A ray of sunlight warmed his face as he passed by an open window. It was an excruciatingly beautiful day. “Ah, athletic commitments, I love them!�

“The extra time is meant for STUDYING, Harry!� she scorned.

“It’s the first day! Besides, when else are the two co-captains going to formulate plans?� He patiently waited for it to sink in. Fortunately, it didn’t take long. She looked at him with an eager question written all over her face. He nodded and she squealed.

“I’ve got to see him before the next class!� she said, and began to scamper off to congratulate him.

“Hermione?� she paused and turned. “He’s in Charms with us. Let’s wait?�

“Oh? Ok. I’m so excited for you both! I had hoped Professor McGonagall wouldn’t uphold the ban. Although I can’t say I wasn’t worried. But how could she? Anyway, Oh! I’m so excited!� She would have chattered on incessantly, but Harry stopped her.

“Um, Hermione?�

“Yes?�

“What was wrong with Ginny?�

She sighed, at once serious. “Well, part of it I know, and part of it she refused to tell me. Besides, I’m not sure it’s my place to-“

“Ron said she was jealous,� he divulged.

She looked startled. “He did, did he?� Harry was feeling anxious. He didn’t want to wait for her to go through all of her thought paths before she returned to him. He shot a cross look at her. “Well, I suppose if Ron said that. Harry, Ginny fancies you. She doesn’t like how you’ve begun kissing Luna.� Hermione deliberated, then began again. “Then, of course, Dean is making her feel horrid about dumping him- even though he was the one flirting- and for taking that nap near you on the train.�

“How’d he know about that?�

“Everyone knows, Harry. But she’s all torn up about that.�

Harry was becoming incensed. “Why’s he doing that to her? She just did a simple thing. Why does he have to go and make a big deal out of her acting like a friend?�

Hermione shrugged.

“So, is that all?� he said sarcastically.

“Actually, no. It’s not.� She glanced at Harry out of the corner of her eye. "There’s more, but the only thing she would tell me, is-“

“What?�

“Hey, Hermione!� shouted Ron from down the hallway.

“It can wait-“

“No, tell me fast.� He knew he was pushing it, but he hated not knowing what was going on, especially with someone who had become more of a friend to him than just someone he knew. He couldn’t drop the conversation just because Ron was coming.

“She’s been seeing things-“ she hissed quickly.

“Seeing what?� he was visibly worried.

“Hey! Hermione, guess who’d co-captain?�

“Auras.�

Ron only slightly sensed the tense atmosphere, but chose to ignore it in favor of his big news. He crinkled his nose. “Auras? What’s that?�

Hermione came up with a lie as quickly as possible. “No, I said Allora is. I was saying how pretty she is. Congratulations!" she said, and gave him a kiss.

“Thanks! Allora? Uh, ok. I guess she’s all right,� he said, racking his brain for a memory of someone named Allora.

“We’d better get inside,� she said hurriedly, and pulled them in the classroom by their sleeves.

Professor Flitwick, tiny as ever, seemed to be in cheerful spirits, considering his dire message. “Not only do you have N.E.W.T.s coming up, but the second war. So, today we will begin learning more advanced shielding charms,� he smiled.


After class, Ron and Harry were practically vibrating with energy. Ron, ever the polite boyfriend, asked, “Do you want to watch us practice, Hermione?�

She was glowing, although for reasons all her own. “Are you joking? I wouldn’t miss Arithmancy if I was vomiting congealed blood!�

The boys were taken aback by her grotesque reference, but put it to rest. “Not even for me?� Ron asked, batting his eyelashes in a ludicrous imitation of a little girl.

“No,� she rolled her eyes and bounded off to her class while the boys went to their room to grab their brooms.

“Did she ever find out what was going on with Gin?�

Harry certainly didn’t want to talk to Ron about how Ginny was feeling romantic towards these days. “Er, yeah. She was just upset about Dean.�

Ron stayed silent for a moment, then said, “Who’d let that sorry old sap bother them?�

“She would,� Harry found the familiar burning sensation in his stomach. “He’s been saying awful things to her.�

“What!�

“Yeah, I know-“

“Well, I’ll teach him a lesson! My sister! Like I’d let him get away with that!� Ron’s hands were balled up. Harry could see the whites of his knuckles.

“Yeah!� Harry was glad to distract Ron from what Ginny was really bothered about, but somehow, he managed to distract himself as well. A welcome relief from the confusion that wracked his brain.

The next two hours were spent down at the Quidditch Pitch. They practiced Ron’s keeping skills, but soon found they hadn’t suffered from the lack of practice. So instead, they took a rest in the cool grass and formulated some strategies for the first game against Slytherin.

“Wait,� said Ron, “we have to hold tryouts first.�

“Ok, well, Ginny wanted to chase-“

“And we already know she’s good-“

“Yes, so let’s put her down for that. We have good Beaters. Nothing on Fred and George, of course-“

“They’ve moved on to greater things-“ he said in mock solemnity.

“That's true. We still have Katie, so all we need is another Chaser.�

“Yep. When should we hold tryouts?�

“This Saturday should be good. Then we’ll have all day.�

“Maybe Hermione won’t shout at us about not doing homework. It’s a free day, and we can do it on Sunday . . .�

Harry laughed. At least Ron had learned to anticipate Hermione’s weekly homework rant. “Soooo . . .� he grinned slyly, "You two sleeping together now?�

Ron was stunned. He obviously though he’d gotten away with it without any teasing. “Don’t start . . .�

“Who’s starting anything? Anyway, you two were the ones snogging at the party- Hey!�

Ron had punched him hard on the arm. “That was for starting.� He tore some grass out of the ground and threw it into the air. “Anyway, I just want to keep that stuff between her and me, ok?�

“So long as you close your curtains from now on,� he conceded.

He chuckled. “Deal.�

Harry picked a thick blade of grass, and wet his thumb. While he half-focused on assembling the whistle, he grinned and said, “Can I talk about what she looks like when she wakes up?�

Ron’s curiosity was piqued. “Pssh, yeah!�

They spent ten minutes straight holding their sides and laughing until out of breath. As it turned out, Harry was quite good at impressions. They quickly wrote up a signup sheet for tryouts the next weekend, then spent a carefree half hour flying aimlessly through the air. For Harry, it was freeing. He was able to throw his cares away when he was so high. It helped to put all of his daily dramas in perspective.

Today was different. He couldn’t pull his thoughts away from Luna and Ginny. He wondered if auras shone through invisibility cloaks. If they did, then maybe Ginny saw him. What did she see? Did she know it was him? Was that why she was crying? No, that’s stupid. Ginny lived through being possessed by Voldemort. She wouldn’t cry just because she saw something strange.

Jealousy. Harry could hardly believe it. He’d noticed some of the more feminine changes in Ginny, yes. He’d noticed how much her powers had grown. He had come to have a kind of respect for her. He’d thought she could do better before; was he better? Was he jealous when he’d thought that? Did he like Ginny back?

His mind pulled out of his inner thoughts and focused back on reality. He looked over at his best friend. Ron appeared to be thinking as well. Likely about whatever happened last night.

He looked below and saw a tiny figure jogging onto the pitch. It was Hermione. She waved at them, and motioned for them to land.

“All right, Hermione?�

“Yes,� she said breathlessly. “We’ve got to make plans for the D.A. I’ve been accosted all day for information, and then, when I finished classes, a common room full of Gryffindors interested in joining demanded to know about our next meeting.� It sounded like she was complaining, but the same excitement that S.P.E.W. elicited was evident.

Ron groaned. “Can’t it wait?�

“What?� she snapped.

“Ron’s right. We have our Quidditch tryout to be bothered with, and it’s only the first week. Can’t we have a bit before we worry about all that?"

“People have lost family, Harry. You’ll probably find quite a few people who are eager to learn how to defend themselves. And they want to learn as soon as possible.� She looked awkward for a moment. "Don't you wish you were better prepared . . . before?"

"Sirius was different!" he shouted. It took no time at all for his rage to scream to the surface.

"I know! But maybe those people don't want to lose anybody else! You're the best one at this in the entire school, and you're the only one they trust! You have to do something! We can't just leave them to hang, high and dry, until it fits into your schedule!" She took a breath, trying to calm herself. "Please, Harry. It's important to me. It's important to everyone."

Her eyes were misty. Harry knew she and Ron missed Sirius quite a bit as well. He thought about the newly orphaned students walking through the halls at that very moment. He thought about the parents he could have had if Voldemort didn't exist. His heart softened for his friend.

“Give me a few days to get my bearings. By Friday, I’ll have figured out a meeting time, and everything else they want to know. Ok?�

She sighed and gave in. “All right. I suppose I could make more fake galleons and hand those out to new recruits.�

Ron spoke up. “Why would we need them? Umbridge isn’t here, and our meetings don’t have to be secret anymore.�

“It’s the quickest method of communication. Well, that gives me something to do tonight," she said, and turned to stroll with her best friends up to the castle. After they entered the front doors, she expressed thoughts newly pressing on her mind.

"Can you believe I didn’t get even a foot of essay in any of my classes? I mean, really! How do they expect me to prepare for my N.E.W.T.s?� She threw her hands up into the air while Harry and Ron smiled wryly at her. "Oh, shut it," she said.

In some way, the fact that Hermione never changed both comforted and annoyed Harry. At least she was always there with a kick in the bum when he needed it. "Yup. Probably more annoying than comforting," he smiled.

Chapter Twenty

Dinner was quite uncomfortable. Harry avoided looking at Ginny as much as possible. Hermione was sympathetic to Ginny. She would give her quick hugs. She even opted to sit away from Ron. “You’ll distract me!� she’d hissed. “I need to be with Ginny. We can sit together another time!�

After seeing how Harry was reacting to the situation, Hermione began shooting disgusted looks at him. Harry chose to ignore both the girls and have at private conversation with Ron instead. His friend kindly lowered his voice and asked, “Did you read the letter yet?�

“The one from Luna? No,� he replied, just as quietly. There was a difference between not talking to Ginny and purposely upsetting her.

“Whaddya waiting for?�

“A time when they,� he nodded toward the girls, “aren’t around.�

“Let’s leave early and go to the common room.�

“Right,� he said. They both looked at the girls expectantly, and caught the tail end of their conversation. Harry was happy to see Ginny have a hopeful smile on her face. Hermione was radiating with excitement. “-Tonight! We’ll use the Room of Requirement!� Hermione said.

She then noticed her two best mates staring at her, eavesdropping. “Care to share with the class?� Ron asked curiously.

“No. What do you want?�

“I’ve got to say, I really love the constant adoration I receive when I have a girlfriend . . .�

She flushed. “Ok. Sorry. What is it you need, my darling?� she asked sarcastically. Under it, Ron could tell that under it all, she was genuinely being sweet, but trying not to look like she was.

“I just want to let you know that we’re going to the common room.�

“Ok. See you later. We have some things to do too.�

“Obviously,� Harry smirked. As he stood, he eyes flicked over to Ginny’s. He wanted to talk to her normally. He wanted to ask her what Dean had said, and about seeing auras, and about her classes. He just didn’t want her to cry, because he had no idea how he felt about her or Luna. He was even a little perturbed that he was feeling pushed into deciding. He felt as if she could see every thought running through his harassed mind.

Her face changed during that momentary connection. Before, her brow was furrowed, and she seemed unbearably full of anxiety. Now, her face fell into a relaxed, gentle smile. “Ok,� was all she said, but Harry felt like it meant more than that. “Maybe we’ll see you later, right?�

“Right,� he nodded back. Ron clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We have matters to attend to, Good Sir. ‘Tis time we departed.�

As they walked away, he distinctly heard Ginny say, “Is it just me, or is Ron reminding you of the twins more and more everyday?�


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


“Open it!� the common room had been found, thankfully, empty.

“All right! Geez, I think you’ve been hanging around Hermione too much. You’ve acquired her taste for being pushy.�

“Oh, whatever. Get to it!�

Harry felt mildly nauseated opening a putrid pink envelope. A stronger scent of lavender invaded his nostrils. “Ouragh! You think she stunk that thing up enough?� Ron hacked and covered his nose.

“Maybe she’s trying to knock me out.�

“Ah, so she can take advantage of you. It’s a conspiracy! Oh, how romantic.�

“Shut it. I don’t make fun of all the ogling you and Hermione do.�

“Yes you do!�

“It says!� Harry interrupted. “Dear Harry, I think you’re a git. I really fancy Ron . . .�

“It does not! Let me see,� he said as he grabbed the letter. Ron cleared his throat and read it aloud.

“Dear Harry,
I am glad about what happened between us the other night. I’d like to have a talk about it. Meet me in the Room of Requirement at 11 pm. I’ll be waiting. Don’t be late.
Yours,
Luna Lovegood�

“Well, well, well, we have ourselves a Romeo. You going to kiss her again?� Ron asked.

“I don’t know. I kind of liked it.�

“Liked it, or liked her?�

Harry looked stumped. “I don’t know. What’s the difference?�

“Well, when you kissed Cho, you didn’t really like the kiss, but it was ok, because you liked her. Was it like that with Luna?�

Harry shrugged. “Hm,� said Ron.

“What?�

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that I think that’s something you have to know if you’re going to deal with Luna any time soon. You don’t want to be a heartbreaker, would you? Rita Skeeter would go mad!�

“I need Hermione to help with this stuff . . .�

“We don’t need her. I can help you!�

Harry raised an eyebrow. “You?�

Highly affronted, he said, “Yeah! What’s wrong with me?�

He smiled uneasily. “Ok. Go at it, I guess.�

“Well, did you get all queasy before it happened?�

“You’re supposed to feel like vomiting?�

“Yeah,� Ron replied with a lopsided smile.

“Well, it happened really fast. I don’t think I felt anything, really. Surprised . . .�

“Did you . . . uh . . . feel like . . . touching her?�

“Ron! Why should I answer that?�

“Just answer.�

“Yes, ok?�

“Did you feel bad about it?�

“Like how?�

“Like, guilty?�

“No, why would I feel guilty?�

“Then you don’t like Luna. You just liked kissing her.�

“How do you figure?�

“Well, you said you didn’t feel queasy-“

“I do now, thanks-“

“I always feel like my stomach is digesting itself when I kiss Hermione-“

“I’m sure she’d like to know that-“

Ron gave him a shut-up-I’m-trying-to-be-serious look. “And I always feel bad about wanting to do more, because I don’t want to make her uncomfortable, or scared, or anything.�

“Wow. You’ve changed, Ron,� said Harry, impressed.

He grinned, and decided to hammer questions at Harry to get honest answers. “So you know now, right?�

“Right.�

“You only are a horny git who wants to ravage girls.�

“Right,� he laughed.

“So how did I do?�

“You make an all right Hermione. Maybe while you were in her mouth, you sucked part of her brain into your head.�

“Hey!�

Harry shrugged. “It’s a possibility.�

“You fancy Cho anymore?�

“No. You know that,� Harry said, and threw the letter into the fireplace.

“And you do you fancy?�

Harry opened his mouth, and slammed it shut. “Good try,� he smirked.

“What were you going to say?� he asked slyly.

“None of your business, prat.�

“Oy! A prat, am I?� Ron lunged at Harry and tackles him to the floor. They tried bending legs backwards, and twisting spines, but in the end, Harry got Ron in a headlock. It was that moment the portrait opened and in walked an unending line of Gryffindors. “Be careful, before I tell your girlfriend you were Muggle dueling, Ron,� Katie Bell said, standing over them with a large pile of books.

“You want to watch where you hover those?� said Harry, out of breath and eyeing the stack cautiously.

“What? These?� she asked casually, and let the pile drop a foot or so.

“Let me up!� said a red-faced Ron. Harry complied.

“Hey, Ron. Do you want to Keep for me this Saturday?�

“This Saturday’s tryouts.�

“Oh? I didn’t see it posted.�

“Oh, I forgot, sorry,� Ron said. He fetched it from his bag and fastened it to the notice board.

“What time?� she asked Harry.

Ron attempted to mark it on the signup sheet as Harry said told her the time (where Katie couldn’t see). They didn’t want to seem ill prepared. “Two O’ clock,� he said.

She turned to Ron. “How about ‘round noon then?�

“Yeah, sure,� he said, pleased that someone wanted his help.

“By the way, congratulations on the co-captain thing. I think you two were good choices,� she said diplomatically.

“Thanks,� they replied in unison.

The two boys spent the next few hours attempting o come up with a list of things to teach the member of D.A. They had to do a bit of review, of course. He’s settled on teach them some of the curses he’d learned for the Tri-Wizard tournament, and more shielding charms. Harry was sure that much could tide them over until he got a clearer picture of what he should teach. After all, they had Lupin back, and he was a brilliant professor. Surely he’d help in training them for the war.

Chapter Twenty-One

It was close to midnight, and the common room was totally empty. Harry and Ron were engulfed in their fourth game of Wizard Chess. Without warning, the portrait flew open and Hermione bounded in.

“And where have you two been? It’s nearly midnight, and I was beginning to think you’d gotten caught by Filch,� asked Ron coolly. He hated feeling left out.

Ginny plopped onto the floor beside Harry. She seemed utterly normal again. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. He had his friend back again. His brow furrowed upon that thought. Wait. Does she only want to be friends now? he wondered.

“Honestly, Ron,� she said, irritated.

“Hermione landed on her knees next to Ron. She enveloped him in a hug before pulling back and saying excitedly, “We were in the Room of Requirement.�

“So?� asked Harry.

“So! Ginny, do me again!�

“Ooooo,� said the boys.

“No. Not that. Boys are such idiots. Go ahead, Gin.�

Ginny bit her lip, looking around. “We need it to be darker. How about that corner over there?� she offered, pointing.

“Ok. Ron, Harry? Would you go over there with us?�

“What, that dark corner? With you? Whatever you want, Hermione,� Ron said suggestively.

“Oh stop! I’m serious! You have to see this.�

They made it to the dimly-lot corner and sat in a circle. Ginny sat across from Hermione cross-legged, rested her hands on her knees, and closed her eyes. Hermione did also, excepting the closing of her eyes, and said, “Pay attention, but stay completely silent.�

They sat in what looked like a trance for some time. Then, slowly, Ginny opened her eyes and stared into Hermione’s. The pretty girl with long, red hair didn’t blink. Just when Harry was about to interrupt, Ginny spoke. “Turquoise. Organized. Influential, but restless. You have to have a project to focus on, else you will not know what to do, and become scatterbrained.�

“I could have told you that, Gin,� said Ron, disbelievingly.

Hermione squinted at him. “Hold on then.� She tapped her wand on her head and put the
Disillusionment Charm on herself. She seemed to melt into thin air; taking on the color and texture of the floor and walls behind her. The undiscerning viewer might have thought she’d become invisible, but Harry knew better. He recognized it as the very charm Moody used when he was whisked away from Privet Drive before fifth year.

“Hermione?�

“Yes?� said her voice.

“Go to somewhere else in the room, and then do it again. I will look for you,� said Ginny.

“What is this all about? So Hermione’s turquoise. So?�

But Harry had an inkling of what was about to happen. His stomach was somewhere around his ankles. Ginny stood, closed her eyes- thinking, it seemed. This time, it was only seconds before she opened them and visually scanned the room. The boys stood up and followed her when she purposefully strode toward a chair near a table. She reached out with her wand, and tapped Hermione with it, taking off the Disillusionment charm. Hermione appeared once more. “You were trying not to laugh,� Ginny smiled. “I could see it.�

Harry just stood with his eyes wide open, not speaking. Oh no . . . he thought.

Ron was a different story. “What are you going on about? Everyone knows that if you look hard enough, you can see where the air bends. That’s how she found you.�

“Red crackles,� said Ginny simply, still looking at her friend.

“Huh?� asked Ron, confused.

“Fine!� shouted Hermione. “Harry, can we use your invisibility cloak?�

He was shaking inside. She saw me. She saw me, kept running through his mind. Depressed and preoccupied, he turned on his heel and dragged himself upstairs to grab his cloak. Only once did he wonder if it was the big ordeal he was making of it. He still felt miserable the whole way back down. With what felt like sealing his doom, he reluctantly handed his cloak to Hermione.

With a frenzy, she threw it on, and seemed to once more disappear. “Ok. Go Hermione.�

A pause for Ginny to focus, and she opened her eyes. With a grin, she all but skipped toward the notice board and tapped the invisible Hermione on the shoulder. Hermione was obviously feeling triumphant. “Explain that!�

Ron’s mouth was agape. “I can’t.�

“I can see auras.�

“I see that,� said Ron, “But how? Just looking at people?�

“Well, yes and no. There are a lot of technicalities involved. For one, the person has to be looking at me. Second, I have to empty my mind. It helps if that person is in deep concentration, and in a darker area. I can read them more clearly then.�

“What happens if they’re not concentrating?�

“Well, the things they are feeling just flitter in and out, and they’re all mixed up with other emotions; so it looks like they feel everything all at once.�

“You probably can’t read Ron, then,� said Hermione vindictively.

“Hey!�

Ginny stuck her nose into the air. “Red. Rays of pink. Sparkles of white.�

“Pink? Pink? What’s that supposed to mean?� asked Ron, feeling ganged up on.

“That’s for you to decide, Ron. But I’ve seen it a lot in your aura when you look at Hermione.�

The couple blushed intensely.

“Of course, you weren’t concentrating. You were angry, and your aura reflected that. You’d probably be a different color if we really tried.�

Harry knew then what was coming. She hadn’t looked at him this entire time. He was mortified. She’d seen him the night before, all of two feet away, and he’d nearly touched her. Did she see him leave? Did she follow?�

“All right,� said Hermione, “We’ll do Ron first, then Harry.�

He saw Ginny’s eyes flicker at him, then look down. She knew more than she was letting on. He sighed. Someday, they would have to talk.

They returned to the corner, and sat in a circle. This time, Ginny faced Ron. “Now, I need you to concentrate on yourself. Think of your past, who you are, and who you want to be. Keep your eyes open, and stare directly into my eyes.� Ron took a breath, and seemed to fall asleep with his eyes open. He only blinked once. When Ginny opened her eyes, she stared at him. “Red-orange. I feel like you are sometimes care-free, materialistic and passionate. You have dark thoughts that streak through all the time. Sorrowful. You have pink streaks. You are thinking of someone you care deeply for.�

When she finished, Ron looked down at the floor and nodded. Ginny bit her lip, holding back something, it would seem. She went over and hugged her brother. “Don’t listen to them. No. It won’t happen.�

They remained there for a moment. Ron looked shaken, and Ginny held him, willing him to fight against whatever personal demon he was battling. Eventually, he’d calmed, saying “Ok. Ok.�

Harry and Hermione felt like intruders in a family’s domain. They’d never fully comprehended how close the Weasley’s were, despite their quarrels. They’d never before fully thought about how much they had at stake. Although, Harry could remember another time, when Mrs. Weasley was attempting to get rid of a boggart, and kept seeing images of a dead Ron, a dead George, a dead Mr. Weasley...

After a long moment, Hermione tactfully cleared her throat. “Can we try Harry now?�

The boy with the lightening scar took his place in front of Ginny. Attempting to give him the opportunity to escape, she asked, “Are you sure?�

He nodded. “Yeah. Let’s just do it.�

“Concentrate on all that you are.�

Harry could tell she was using all of her strength to clear her head. She felt as if she had to do it; to prove she could be in Harry’s presence without falling to pieces, as she had that morning. It was something she had to prove to herself.

She took the customary moment to collect herself and empty her mind. It took longer than with the other two. Harry focused as best he could, but so much of his thoughts were things he didn’t care to think about. He did it anyway. Images of all that he was flashed through his mind: Sirius, the Mirror of Erised, Quidditch, the Dursley’s, Cho, Cedric, Voldemort, Lupin, and the Weasley’s, among many more. Then, without warning, Ginny was staring hard into his soul. He felt as if he was laid bare to her. When he looked into those flashing eyes, he realized he only saw that power in two other people: Dumbledore and Voldemort.

A seemingly misdirected tear found its way down the path of her cheek. The others saw this, and made to interrupt, afraid she was being hurt. She threw her hands out to stop them. It was something she had to do. “There is darkness. Sorrow. Browns and Grays. Misfortune. You feel trapped with no way of escape. Defenseless.� She squinted her eyes. “I see white. You have a strong connection to something . . . otherworldly. There is an ancient quality. But more to it. You are close to them . . . so close,� she whispered.

“Oh! You’ve changed,� she said, taken unexpectedly. “Gold. So much gold. Strength. Determination. There is something you must do, can do, will do. You’ll not stop. It’s beautiful; it’s kind. There is much pink. It is strong, filtering, weaving in and out. It radiates. So powerful! Ow!�

Ginny’s hand went to her forehead as blinding pain overtook her. Hermione rushed to her side. “What is it? Are you ill? Shall I fetch Madam Pomphrey?�

Harry knew what had happened. It was the same feeling when he was taking Occlumency. She’d gone too deep. Inadvertently, he’d sent some kind of hex at her without his wand.

“No,� she whispered in answer to Hermione. A minute had passed before she slowly used great effort to look at Harry. Her face looked as if she had dunked her face underwater. Wet, with a red nose and red-rimmed eyes, she looked at Harry with the most compassionate visage he’d ever seen. Her breath caught momentarily when their eyes connected. She smiled at him. “It will be all right. I promise, Harry. It’ll be ok.�

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Her headache was still searing twenty minutes later, so Hermione helped walk her up to the girls’ dormitories. Ron wanted to help, but knew the stairs would turn into a slide. He’d learned that from a previous experience. Soon after the girls turned in, Ron and Harry trudged up to their own beds. Ron looked uncertain. “Do you think she’s right?�

“I think so . . .� was all he could manage.

They moved in silence; changing into their bed clothes. In the darkness, Harry could see the whites of his friend’s eyes. “Tomorrow?� he whispered.

Harry nodded. Ron couldn’t have seen it, but seemed to understand anyway. He pulled his curtains closed and just sat. Thoughts were racing through his head with blinding fury, but one person kept standing out: Ginny. He couldn’t explain why, but he was apprehensive about her, and couldn’t stop thinking it, even as he drifted off to sleep.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Flashes of brilliantly colored pictures. Electric blue. Mountainous landscape. Orange, leaping fire. A lake of blood. Wide, brown eyes; unblinking. Teeth with unnatural points to them. A creaky wooden door. A crying, dark-haired baby; its screaming mother holding it to her breast. A loud thumping. Louder. Louder. Blood.

Silence.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Harry bolted upright, his breath knocked out of him. His lungs were sucking for air, but none would be found. Instead, a high-pitched squeal emanated from him. His eyes bulged.
“Harry!� yelled Ron, ripping open his bed hangings.

He found his breath in an audible ‘whoosh!’ He panted, desperate for more oxygen. “War,� was all he could croak out.

“Sh-should we get Dumbledore?� asked a concerned and nervous Neville. The others were staring at Harry open-mouthed, their hair askew, having just been ripped from their own dreams.

“Yes, get him,� Ron ordered.

He poured a glass of water an encouraged Harry to drink. He only waved it away, still concentrating on breathing.

Mere moments later, Dumbledore breezed into the room with Neville in his wake. He sat on the side of Harry’s bed. “What is it, Harry?� he asked kindly, putting a comforting hand on his arm.

“War,� he replied in a husky voice.

“A dream?�

He nodded, but said, “No.�

Dumbledore, sensing Harry’s confusion, quietly waited for Harry to continue. “Flashes of things. Things I haven’t seen. Disconnected.�

The headmaster’s brow was furrowed. “Has something happened, Harry, to break down your defenses against such an intrusion?�

Harry looked at Ron, who’d hung his head. He nodded. “All right, Harry, please follow me to my office. Mr. Weasley, please fetch any persons involved in this matter. Bring them to my office as well, please.�

Ron went to perform the task set to him, and Harry followed Dumbledore to his office. When they got to the door, the headmaster said “Dung Beans,� and the door opened to reveal the spiral staircase. They ascended it quickly, and soon enough, Dumbledore was behind his desk, and Harry was sitting in the comfortable leather chair in front of it.

The elder brought his fingertips to a point and asked, “Is there a possibility that this ‘dream’ was embedded into your mind by Mr. Riddle?�

Harry shrugged with exhaustion and sadness. “I don’t know. Maybe. But Voldemort’s been doing that for months. It was always someone I knew getting hurt, not this. N-not the blood and death of people I don’t know. Not . . . this.� He’d put emphasis on the last word.

Dumbledore nodded sympathetically. “Now I must ask; what has happened in the last few days to leave you receptive to such images?�

Harry wasn’t sure if he should tell. He didn’t know if Ginny wanted her new power blabbed to the world. He suddenly felt like they had done something wrong in the common room that night. In the end, he succumbed to the troubled blue eyes. Perhaps, Dumbledore could tell him what was going on. “Ginny Weasley, she . . . well, she can see auras. We were letting her practice on us. I think she saw more than she meant to, or something.� He wasn’t sure what reaction he’d expected but there was a distinct lack of one.

Suddenly he felt his anger rising. “Did you already know, then?� He was tired of not being told everything.

“Ginny Weasley is the first girl to be born into her family for generations. It had been long believed in exclusive circles when such an event occurred, she would be a powerful witch. I’ve been expecting her powers to grow as she matured.�

Harry paused to let the information soak in. At that moment, Ron and a very sleepy Ginny walked into the office. Dumbledore kindly conjured up two equally cozy chairs and invited them to sit. They looked frightened. They distinctly remembered the last time Harry had a ‘dream’ and were called to this very room. “Ms. Ginny, may I ask you to explain- to your best ability- your newest talent?�

“Um, yes, but I don’t see how it would help-“

“The more I know, the more I can help.�

“Oh, ok,� she took a breath. “I can see auras; light circles around people. They appear in colors, but it’s not just that. I feel what the colors mean.�

Dumbledore nodded. “A very useful skill indeed. Now, I must ask you, my dear, what did you feel when you saw Harry’s aura?�

She looked at Harry for permission to tell. It was his business, she knew. He gave a slight nod for her to continue. He looked forlornly at the floor. “It was strange. At first, just darkness, fear and uncertainty. I felt like he was close to the other side-“

“Other side, Ms. Weasley?�

“-Yes. Um, as if he was very close to death. Not dying . . . just Death, if it were a being.�

“I understand. Please continue.�

“He’s lo- . . . he doesn’t want to be chosen. He feels separate in a desolate way.�

“I could have told ya that,� Ron mumbled. He shut his mouth with one look from his headmaster.

Ginny continued. “It wasn’t just Death, though. There was more to it . . . It felt old. It was if something very old was in his aura. Not to hurt, but to help.�

“A benign presence, yes. Please go on.�

She glanced at her companions. No longer were they uncomfortable, so obviously wishing they were back in their beds. They were staring at her, with rapt attention. She was speaking of things she’d kept from them during her reading. “Then the weird thing happened. It changed. Just replaced by a gold one. I haven’t seen that in anyone else yet.� Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at this revelation, but she didn’t stop. “It was a bright gold. It felt very powerful, and had pink rays shooting all through it.�

Dumbledore gave her a Mona Lisa smile at the last bit. “That was a very accurate character assessment, Ms. Weasley. You are a talented witch. Unfortunately, it was good because you dug so deeply into his psyche. This caused a slight breakdown in the immunity he built up over to summer to Voldemort’s constant mental attacks.�

Ginny’s eyes widened with surprise, and then looked down with misery. She hadn’t meant to cause harm.

“Do not fret, dear, because while Voldemort’s thoughts had successfully entered Harry’s mind- as they have so many times before- this time, it is my belief that he hadn’t meant to do so.�

“Wait,� said Harry, “So you mean . . .�

“Yes, Harry. I believe you have accessed Mr. Riddle’s mind. The question now is, what did you see?�

“At first, a lot of blue. Bright, overpowering blue. Then a vampire, someone dying. Lot’s of screaming, blood. There was an old door, and a woman with a baby, but I couldn’t really see either, because it was focused on the baby, and even so, the mother was blocked by the baby, sort of . . .� he finished, uncertainly. He looked at Dumbledore for reassurance.

He only looked back at Harry. He wasn’t really looking, so much as thinking. “Well, the baby was you, of course. The mother was yours. He’s been thinking of you unceasingly for several years now. As for the rest . . . well, I’m not sure.� This was not what Harry wanted to hear. He shifted uncomfortably.

“I trust you three know that every human- even Muggles- has the ability of foresight?� They shook their heads. He continued. “Most often, it comes in the form of dreams. Dreams are easily mistaken or forgotten, so most simply go about their lives taking no notice. While it is possible you were seeing what will be, you may have also accessed what has already happened through the mind of the self-titled ‘Dark Lord.’ We shall know by tomorrow, no doubt,� he said, removing his glasses and rubbing his temples.

After a moment, Ginny ventured to ask, “Sir, why does Harry have two auras?�

“I do not pretend to have your skill, Ms. Weasley, but I can make a tolerable guess to that. It isn’t likely that Harry had two; rather, one is closer to the surface. There is much to learn about the unknowns and the powers residing in him. Can I trust you to assist Harry in discovering them?�

She nodded in acquiescence. “Well,� said the headmaster, “now that we have done all we can do, might I suggest we return to our beds? We all have busy days ahead.�

They replied, “Yes, Sir,� in unison, and got up to leave when he stopped Ron.

“Mr. Weasley? If you could, tell Ms. Granger that she would make an excellent Translator, if only she keeps up with her projects.� He winked, and turned toward the cabinet, signaling for the trio to leave.


Harry had slept peacefully the rest of the night. Perhaps it was because Voldemort could have been asleep. Then again, no one knew if he did actually sleep. Upon awakening, Harry discovered that Ron couldn’t have slept well. His blanket resembled a sailor’s knot that bound his feet like shackles.

“Ron?� he called loudly and awoke his friend. “Coming to breakfast?� he asked while dressing for the day.

“Um, yeah. I guess.�

“You look like hell.�

“Good. I’ll match how I feel then,� he grumbled and rolled out of the bed. “Did you have more dreams?�

“None that I can remember, you?�

“No. I feel like I haven't slept at all." After a pause, he ventured into discomforting territory. "I've been thinking about Gin . . . She's around us so much now. Sometimes I think I might get her . . . you know, killed or something,� he said, and fussed with his sheets a bit.

“I know. I always get that feeling. For what it's worth, I'll do my best to protect her when I can. I don't exactly plan on bringing her into battle, though.�

"We didn't plan on her coming the last time either, did we?"

It wasn't a question meant to be answered. Harry waited at the door in a heavy silence for Ron to ready himself, and then both quietly headed down to the Great Hall.

Hermione and Ginny were already eating at the Gryffindor table. Harry immediately sensed something was wrong. Perhaps it was the incessant whispering. More likely, it was the look of shock plastered on everybody’s face. The two they were headed toward had their heads together, reading what Harry assumed was the Daily Prophet. Unfortunately, he was right. He stood over the girls’ shoulders and read:


Ural Giants Attack Village!
Writes Robert Spernik.
Last evening, two giants attacked a small village near Perm. While it was a Muggle town, it boasted a small settlement of wizards. They attacked as night fell, immediately crushing a local pub full of patrons. They rampaged throughout the streets until several wizards from the Russian Magical Authority subdued them. Unfortunately, fifty-two Muggles were killed in the ambush. In a rage, the remaining Muggle villagers killed the giants by beheading them.

One wizard, who wished to remain anonymous, remarked, “The destruction was unfathomable. It will take years for us to recover.�

It is rumored that the giants were acting on the orders of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Death Eaters have been spotted in the area as late as two months ago. The Russian Magical Authority is perusing prosecution against the Muggles involved in the slaying.


“That’s outrageous!� Hermione shouted. “They didn’t know any better! They were protecting themselves! Look how many of THEM died!�

“We know, Hermione,� said Ron sedately. As a witch born to Muggles, Hermione understandably felt personally insulted.

“You know, now it feels like the war’s actually begun. What with the other creatures getting involved . . .� said Harry.

“It’s a good thing we have Defense against the Dark Arts today,� said Ron.

“The weird thing is, who doesn’t?� asked Ginny rhetorically.

“What do you mean?� asked Hermione interestedly.

“Well, I was asking some other fifth years what they have today, and everyone- at least, everyone in the D.A. - has D.A.D.A for third class,� she replied.

“Me and Ron have it second and third.�

“That is queer . . .� thought Hermione aloud.

“Oh, Hermione. Did Ginny tell you about last night?�

Hermione snapped back to reality. “Last night? No, what happened?�

“Dumbledore thinks I had my way with Voldemort’s brain again�

She looked a mixture of confused and disgusted, so he explained, “I saw what he was thinking about.�

“How could his defenses have been low enough for that?� asked Hermione, always the Devil’s advocate.

“Well geez, Hermione. It was three in the morning. Who’d think a teenager was up and ready to break in to someone’s brain?� said Ron.

“No, no. It has to be more. Well, what was he thinking about?�

“A fudged attacked on a wizard town, no doubt . . .�

Hermione’s eyes widened. “Oh! You don’t think? Wow, Harry. Don’t you see how useful this is? You can receive news about the war faster than others!� she said in an excited, high-pitched whisper. She knew Harry too well. He’d pitch a fit if she shouted his new talent to the world. “But what started it?�

Ginny gave her a look that said it all. “Last night . . .� she dazed off thoughtfully.

She nodded. “Yep. Dumbledore thanks I dug deeply into his mind. He says Harry’s sort of emotionally scabbed over, and I came along and opened up a gaping wound again!� she said in mock happiness.

“Can we stop talking about ‘emotions?’ It sounds too girly. And anyway, Ginny, it’s not your fault, ok? It’s been happening for a while; I’ll build my scab up again.�

“It must be horrible,� Hermione said empathetically to Harry.

“Yeah. I suppose. At least now I can find a use for this brain connection.�

“You are not going to do it again! Not if it hurts you in the end . . .�

“Stop mentioning me getting hurt! I’m not some fragile little doll or something!�

“Dumbledore’s asked me to help Harry,� Ginny said with authority, sticking out her chin.

The three interpreted her gesture momentarily, and then laughter broke out. “Ok, you don’t have to go all possessive on us,� said Ron.

“Well, I’m glad I can finally do something to help, and you all want it to stop!�

“Not all of us,� said Harry. “Just Hermione.�

“Sorry Gin,� she said quickly. She knew the real reason why Ginny was set on the experiment. It was true that she wanted to help, but who knew what could happen if she spent enough alone time with Harry. The question was, how much was enough?

“Oh! Hermione, forgot to tell you. Dumbledore said you’d be brilliant at translating, but that you have to get a move-on on your projects or something,� Ron said, and stuffed a biscuit into his mouth.

A dawning realization hit her full on the face. “I have to go.� She said curtly, grabbed hr books and took off at a run.

“Two sickles says she’s gone to the library,� said Ron.

“Who’d take that bet?� Harry asked, and the three laughed.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Harry walked out to his Care of Magical Creatures class alone. He was somewhat consoled to find that Malfoy was not in the class, however. Unlike last year, Hagrid was both present and accounted for in the first class. Also present were the swollen bruises that Hagrid now wore like he wore his hair; they were both annoying and didn’t enhance anyone’s first impression of him, but were there anyway.

He grinned at the memory of Grawp- Hagrid’s ‘little’ brother- calling Hermione “Hermy.� Harry had to hand it to Professor Hagrid, he certainly did teach Grawp English (and how to not eat his students). Harry’s musings were interrupted by his instructor’s gruff voice. “Mornin’ everyone. Yer all aware this is a NEWT level class, am I correct in sayin’?�

The class nodded. Most were smiling encouragingly, but some were quite obviously not happy to be there. No doubt their career paths required the class. Many students felt Professor Grubbly-Plank- who’d taken over his position after an immoral stunning incident- was a more adept teacher. Harry couldn’t have cared less. Hagrid usually brought terrifying and dangerous creatures to class, but rarely was it boring.

“We’re goin’ ter have a great year! It’s goin’ ter be rough, these las’ two, but I’ll get yeh settled on everythin’ yeh need ter know. Now, who can tell me wha’ a grodporter is?�

Harry looked around expectantly, then realized he was expecting Hermione’s voice to chirp up and tell the class what its name was in Latin. She wasn’t in this class, though, so they all stared at Hagrid with mingled fear and curiosity. “None o’ yeh? All righ’ then. A grodporter is very interestin’, ‘cause it looks like a fish, but ‘e makes ‘is home on land. We’re goin’ ter ‘ave a look at one in theh barn. Come on, you lot.�

The class followed him into the barn. Many of them looked more at ease. After all, who was afraid of fish? However, some girls in the class looked appalled to have to possibly touch such a creature. Harry got a sense of foreboding. The barn was kept quite dark; he didn’t much like being closed in with grodporters either.

Hagrid grinned as he let loose a door to a small cubicle. Out floated an odd creature that Harry had sworn he’d seen on a Disney movie. It was all puffed up, and looked like it had only skin instead of scales. What was more, the skin was shiny and iridescent. The girls cringed at the ugly creature, and the boys laughed. “’E looks a bit silly, I s’pose. In winter, the outer layer will turn a dark color, so’s to catch more sunlight to warm it. It’s still warm, so the outer coatin’ reflects the sunlight so’s to cool ‘er off.�

“What IS that stuff?�

“Tha’ shimmery? Oh! Tha’s the slime!�

She positively cringed at this exuberant statement. She scowled at Harry when he couldn’t help but laugh at her reaction. Despite its grotesque appearance- and the fact that its slime continually dripped on them- it’s movement as it floated through the air was mesmerizing. “Yeh wan’ ter watch out fer the droppin’s. Yeh’ll get some nasty boils there later.�

“Ouragh!� was the sound of mass disgust and dismay. “Now he tells us!� complained one dark-haired Ravenclaw girl.

Harry looked down and realized he had several splotches on his arm. He groaned and wiped his arm on the outside of his cloak. An odd squelching sound distracted him. The grodporter now had several feathers sticking to the perimeter of it’s oral edifice. “Did yeh see tha’?� asked Hagrid excitedly, “Tha’s how ‘e eats!�

While it was turning out to be a tame lesson for Hagrid, his professor was drifting into repulsive creatures. They spent half of the class trying to coax the grodporters with chicken livers, in order to prick them for blood. If they were pricked in exactly the wrong place, they emitted deafening shrieks that made some students’ ears bleed. They were sent to Madam Pomfrey for the remainder of the day.

The other half of the class period was spent attempting to collect the slime from their bodies as they floated. “It’s really useful, tha’.�

“What for?� asked Lavender Brown with loathing.

“Tha’ll be yer homework! A foot on the uses of grodporter blood and slime.�

“It’s just the second day!� chimed in someone else.

“Tha’s right. Yeh already had one day off. Now it’s time ter get down to b’siness.�


Harry was glad to be out of Hagrid’s class. His arm only had a minor rash, which was far better than the rest of the class. He wasn’t going to complain even if he HAD been covered in boils. He wouldn’t miss N.E.W.T. Defense Against the Dark Arts for the world. He was looking forward to being in class with Ron, as well.

He was elated to find a grinning Lupin, and his friend Ron with a similar expression. He went to sit next to the latter near the front of the room, and took out his wand. He knew there wouldn’t be much reading in Lupin’s class. As he looked around, he saw the older members of the D.A. He was proud to see they had all done so obviously well on their O.W.L.s. There were a few new people as well. Harry guessed quite a few of them hadn’t joined before for fear of getting caught by Umbridge. He caught sight of a few Slytherins, which was interesting. So often, people just assumed they were bad up front. Some of them had to be ok.

“It is so wonderful to see you all again. Bet you thought you’d never see me again.� There were a few snickers at that. “To clear up any issues you may have about my condition, please understand that most of the time, I’m as pleasant as always. Once a month, for a few days, I will be unable to teach. So, barring any other necessary duties, Professor Dumbledore himself will be assisting in the growth of your already fantastically gifted minds.�

There were excited whispers all around. Everyone had heard about Albus Dumbledore’s teaching days, but had never experienced it. “Wonder what he’ll teach us?� Ron wondered aloud.

“Probably something not approved by the Ministry of Magic. It’ll be excellent,� Harry whispered back.

A bang from the door silenced the class. To Harry’s displeasure, Malfoy sauntered in looking thoroughly foul. He breezed by Ron and Harry- administering a gloating sneer as he passed- and handed a rolled note to Lupin. He unsealed it and read. He incinerated it and spoke. “All right Mr. Malfoy, take an empty seat. Do not be late to my class again,� he said with an uncharacteristically stern voice.

Ron’s mouth could have been a mountain cave worthy of a giant. “Why’s HE here?�

“Yeah. You’d think he’d be a full-on Death Eater by now; taking over for his beloved father.�

Something dawned on the freckled one. “What if he is a Death Eater, and is spying on us to pass information to You-Know-Who?�

“Maybe . . .� was all Harry could say. Ron was always coming up with theories that rarely panned out. Surely someone else thought of that possibility. Would they let him in Defense Against the Dark Arts just to trap him?

“Right,� Lupin continued. “So who can tell me about mirage charms?� Remus told the class about them when no one answered. “They transfer you to what feels like another world when you enter them. Often, they portray an idea inherently uncomfortable to everyone. They can be seen before entering, however. Who knows what they look like from the outside?�

Something clicked in the back of Harry’s mind, and he raised his hand. “A shimmering mist?�

“Right you are. You’ve encountered one, I’ve heard. Would you like to tell us about it?�

Malfoy snorted and mumbled something annoyingly, but Harry proceeded to tell the enthralled class about the mist in the Triwizard Tournament. After, Lupin produced the Mirage charm and allowed the students to practice finding their way out of it. Different varieties were used until nearly every student was glowing with accomplishment.

After teaching them the incantation to practice on each other, Lupin pulled Harry aside. “You’ve noticed you have two Defense Against the Dark Arts classes?�

“Yes, Sir, but why-“

“The second is reserved for D.A. members. All of those that were in the organization last year are here again-“

“Including the girl who ratted us out?� spat Harry, who was quite offended that they would let a sneak like her back in.

“Well, yes, her too. Fortunately, this time there’s no one to tell, so you’re in the clear. Try to be nice. She meant well. There are also a few new people who’ve expressed great interest, and Dumbledore personally approved to be in your class. Now, whether you accept them is up to you. But remember that unification is important here.�

“Yes, Sir,� he smiled and walked over to Ron, who’d just walked through the mist.

“You have your own class? Wow . . .�

“It’s not really that. Just, like, class time for D.A.�

“Hermione’ll shit a tiger.�

He grinned. “I know. I can’t wait to tell her.�

They drifted down to lunch, only to find that Hermione wasn't present. It was over quickly enough, and they headed back to the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Ron said he had to stop off in the lavatory and Harry continued on.

When the time came, half of the Defense Against the Dark Arts class remained, and many excited, familiar faces bounded in. Girlfriends squealed as if they hadn’t seen each other in ages. Others hugged or shook hands. For a moment, Harry felt lucky. Then he spotted Cho. She immediately walked up to him and gave him a hug. “Thank you for letting Marietta in again. It was really sweet of you.�

He looked askew at her, but quickly said, “Oh? Yeah . . . erm, welcome.�

She sighed and looked at her shoe. She glanced up at him and bit her lip. “You don’t . . . wonder if maybe . . . there could be a . . . a-another chance? For us, I mean?� It was so visibly difficult for her to ask. Harry felt bad for her, but was relieved when Hermione bounded in, looking flushed. “Hello Mr. Potter!�

“What?� he asked, wondering why they were on a last-name basis.

She whispered quickly into his ear, “Oh, have I got news for you!�

Cho realized she wasn’t going to get an answer any time soon, and walked away. “I’ve got news for you, too,� he said.

“Ooo, you first!�

“You’re in my class.�

“I KNOW that,� her eyes grazed over the room. “Why isn’t Professor Lupin out of his office? And . . . it’s all D.A. members in here.� Then she understood what he meant. “Oh! This is so exciting!� she squealed. “Can I help?�

“Could I stop you?�

“No. Well, it looks like everyone’s here. We’d better get started.�

Harry smiled at her strange mixture of maturity and child-like enthusiasm. He was going to call attention when she threw an arm across his chest. Her eyes narrowed. “Malfoy.� She all but spit the name.

“I know. He’s probably left over from the last class, hoping to find someone to torment.� Harry strolled up to him with Hermione following closely behind. When Ron arrived he made a beeline for the coming confrontation as well.

“Malfoy, we have some things to do, here. So leave.�

“Nice try. I have this class, Golden Boy,� he replied coolly.

“You know when all the kids change class? That’s your cue to go too. So scamper off to your Murderers in the Making class or something,� he said condescendingly.

“Oh, I would,� he said with a sneer, “but it seems Dumbledore wants me here.�

“Well, we don’t. And as Harry’s teaching this class, he gets to decide who stays and who, well, doesn’t. So GET OUT,� said Hermione with venom.

“Always the little follower, aren’t you, Mudblood? Always running around, hoping to take scraps of glory from your friends. If you ask me, it’s a bit desperate-“

“-Aborrante Halitosa!�

“-Inflatoria Mania!�

They shot the spells at each other simultaneously, but both missed a collision and hit true to their marks. Hermione’s fingers were ballooning at an alarming rate. She looked on in horror at something she couldn’t control. When they checked back to see what had happened to Malfoy, they saw only air. He’d gone as quickly as he came.

“At least you got him good before he ran off,� said Harry consolingly.

“Yeah, maybe. But I still would have like to throw a few more his way for good measure,� said Ron angrily.

“She’s a library of jinxes. If she knew a good one, she’d throw it at him. It was a good one, wasn’t it, Hermione?�

She didn’t care at that point. She was in tears. “I have so many essays to do tonight! How am I going to do it all?�

“We’ll help, won’t we Harry?�

“Er, yeah. Ron, you should take her to the Infirmary. Maybe Madam Pomfrey can pop them or something.�

Hermione began to audibly sob at that idea as Ron guided her out of the classroom. Harry distinctly heard the word “bastard,� slip out of his good friend’s mouth. Harry turned to see the whole class staring at him, and Ginny quietly slipping into the classroom. “Erm. Hey everyone. Good to see you.� He blushed when he saw Luna. “So, who’s new?�

He asked the original D.A. members to pair off and practice the spells they’d learned last year, while he spoke to the newcomers. He asked them all why they wanted to join. All of them had lost someone they knew in recent months. One young girl even cried when she told her story about how her grandpa died in Diagon Alley when he went to fetch her birthday gift.

Harry knew exactly how the young Hufflepuff was feeling. He sympathized with the new group. “I’m sorry I had to ask why, but I need to know your interest is genuine. This isn’t just a club you do for fun; that you can drop in and out of. If you sign the list, you’re in. These are life and death times, and we train you to stay alive. This isn’t an extracurricular activity; it’s life. We’ll be doing some tests to see if you’re serious, and if you fit in with the current group. We all have to work as a team, or we’re done for.�

Even to himself, he sounded a lot like the Sorting Hat. The new students nodded solemnly. He made a mental note to ask Hermione about some initiation rites. He thought for a moment about using the old list, but as he looked at Marietta Edgecombe's face, he thought it was a better idea to make a new one. Her face still had some spots on it. “Damn,� he thought, “Hermione IS good.�

“Anyoo, let’s see how you do with stunning.� He showed them how to do it, then stood back to watch. He corrected them here and there, and showed them how to improve. He then dispersed them among the seasoned D.A. members to practice that and other simple spells. He moved between everyone, doing the same for them as he did for the new ones. Some people had lapsed into shoddy spell work. He avoided Luna, Cho and Ginny as much as possible.

Luna, unconcerned, floated over to Harry, leaving her partner stunned on the floor. “Are you coming tonight?�

“Um, about that, I was actually really-“

“Me too. We have things to talk about. See you.�

He had no idea what just happened, but saw Ginny looking at him with what he thought was a twinge of hurt in her eyes. Harry made to walk over to her, but tripped and fell to the floor. “Why do I always land on the same spot?� he mumbled grumpily, thankful that no one noticed. He looked at his feet and saw his laced tied together. He couldn’t say when it happened, but he was quite sure he knew a red-head who could tie shoes by thinking about it.

He was glad, by the end of class that he didn’t have to deal with Cho. He walked to the front. “All right. You all know what you need to improve on. We have some new people here that we may welcome into the D.A. I want your opinions. There will be a ceremony sometime after this week, when we’ll decide who’s in and who’s out. Good job. See you in a couple of days.�

Harry raced to the infirmary to check on Hermione, but Madam Pomfrey said she sent Hermione to the Gryffindor tower for rest. Harry went to where she referred. When he entered the common room, he saw Ron, Hermione and Ginny in front of the fire. It was lunchtime, but he couldn’t tell by the scene before him. It was quite a serene image. Well, almost. Ron was frustrated at the homework he was working on, alternately scribbling, cursing, and throwing wads of parchment on the floor. Ginny was working on transfiguring a cup of tea, and Hermione seemed to be speaking her essay. He soon understood what was happening.

“Is that a quick-quotes quill?�

“Not a chance!� said Ginny, “Those tell elaborate, awful lies. I just bewitched a quill to write what I say. I loaned it to Hermione, considering her condition. I came to look for her, actually, but found her here, trying to get Ron to write her essay for her.�

“What did Madam Pomfrey say?�

“Oh, the swelling should go down in a day or so,� Hermione said, after stopping the quill. “Until then, this is a nice change from writing everything myself.�

“I know,� Ginny smiled at her, “I use it a lot when I’m not up to manual labor. You know, I wish I could have been there when you and Malfoy were going at it. Oh, I know a wonderful hex I just ran across . . .“

“Oh, believe me, it wasn’t necessary,� Hermione said haughtily. “He got it worse than I did.�

“What did you do?� asked Ron eagerly.

“Well, anyone who comes within ten feet of him the whole next week will nearly faint,� she said conspiratorially.

“Why?�

“Because his breath smells like a cross between dead possum, sulfur, and . . . oh yes, baby poop.�

“Brilliant,� grinned Harry. “I can’t wait to see everyone faint when he opens his mouth!�

They all laughed at the collective mental image. “Oh, Harry!� interrupted Ginny, “you and I have to work on ‘having our way’ with a special someone’s brain tonight,� she said tauntingly.

Chapter Twenty-Four

“So, have you forgotten my news, or were you waiting for your hair to fall out before you asked?� asked Hermione wryly.

“Oh yeah! What is it?�

She gleefully smiled. “I went straight to the library when you told me what Dumbledore said-“

“I win-“

“We ALL win-“

“ANYWAY. I have been working on the translation in a way. I’ve been digging for a little background information, thinking it could help me along. I hadn’t been finding anything, really, on Salazar Slytherin. At least, not on this particular battle. I figured that it wasn’t really a well-known fact. Well, the Slytherins have their own library of sorts, so I needed to find a way in. I thought Ginny might know, because she-“

Ginny hissed at her. “Because she knows a Slytherin, and she might be able to get them to tell her.�

“Does ‘them’ mean him or her?� asked Ron.

Hermione ignored them and continued her story. “So during second class, she asked him what it was, and he told her-“

“He just TOLD her? That’s kind of hard to believe . . .�

“Don’t ask, and I won’t lie,� said Ginny cryptically.

Hermione glared at them until they were all paying attention again. “The only problem was finding out how to get in there unnoticed. So after second, I magiced your cloak downstairs, ran in, and grabbed whatever I could in seconds.�

“So you just took it?� he said, very annoyed.

“Please, Harry, just let me explain. I decided to read during the time it took to go to Lupin’s classroom. In the very top book- The Life and Times of Salazar Slytherin- the first chapter was abut his rise to power, which began when he fought Merlin-“

“THE Merlin?�

“Yes! Well, Slytherin fought him because he was trying to get to his son-“

“He had a son?�

“Yes! Now will you listen? Hold all questions until the end. The son’s name was ARTHUR. The Muggle legends said something else, because naturally, they never knew what really happened. Arthur was a half-blood. After his father died, he went into hiding and became a potter.�

“Is that a pun?� asked Harry. “A potter as in ‘Oh, nice pot,’ or as in my last name?�

She leaned forward excitedly. “My guess is both.�

Harry scoffed. “The parchment you found probably had nothing to do with me, then. Just Arthur the potter.�

“No, Harry, it was a surname in the parchment. It’s written differently than the occupation.�

“Couldn’t there be a million Potters in the world though?� asked Ron.

Ginny chimed in. “Maybe, but how many of them are wizards?�

“Exactly. It can’t be all that common among wizards, because I’ve never heard or read that name in connection to any other witch or wizards, excepting your parents.�

“First you think I could be the Heir of Slytherin, and now you’re telling me I could be the great great great great grandson of Merlin or something?�

“We have to look at it as a distinct possibility, Harry,� was all she said. Hermione reclined in her chair, looking distinctly satisfied.

Harry took her cue to flop down in a nearby chair. He slouched there, attempting to be as comfortable and lazy as possible. His mind was racing with possibilities. What would Slytherin want with a half-blood? Of course, the same could have been asked about Voldemort a few years back. Why would Merlin want to dilute his magic with a Muggle? Wasn’t he supposed to be the greatest wizard in history? After about twenty minutes of looking like a zombie, Ginny said, “It might help for you to write thoughts in that journal I gave you for your birthday.�

The visual dawned in his memory. “Oh yeah! It answers questions I ask about myself, right?�

She smiled. “Yes.�

He took the steps two at a time, dived into his trunk, and brought out the leather journal. Why hadn’t he thought of it before? He took out his quill and suddenly felt like he was holding Riddle’s diary again. He shook away the flashback, and wrote. To give it a test run, he asked, “What is my name?�

“That varies,� was the reply. “Harry Potter, Potter, Harry, Golden Boy, Dumbledore’s groupie, lackey, Prat, Dream Man, Gorgeous, Poor Boy, Boy . . .�

It went on and on. Harry was dumbstruck. It was listing every name anyone had ever called him. He privately wondered who thought he was a man, much less a dream man. Feeling satisfied as to the truthfulness of the new journal, he took a breath and tried to decide which burning question to ask first.

“Is Merlin my ancestor?�

“Yes.�

He gasped, surprised.

“Why did Salazar Slytherin kill Merlin?�

“I cannot answer.� Harry was stumped, but soon remembered that he could only ask questions about himself.

“Can my Mum and Dad see me?�

“In some way.�

Harry’s lip curled. What kind of answer was that? “How?�

“Only they know.�

“Will I ever see Sirius again?�

“In some way.�

Harry felt like he was writing to a Magic 8 Ball. However, he knew that this journal was likely more legit. What answers he did get were comforting. By and large, he was quite thankful Ginny had thought to give it to him. It was also a lot of information to ponder and digest. After all, the journal told him, in no uncertain terms, that he was related to Merlin. Malfoy can’t beat THAT bloodline, he thought. He wondered in what way he would see Sirius again . . .


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Harry had been downstairs for some time working on his Care of Magical Creatures essay. Hermione had been so proud of him for getting to work on it quickly. He didn’t have the heart to tell her he could care less, and wasn’t so much working as making interesting doodles. His mind kept wandering. Hermione wasn’t helping by speaking her essay aloud, of course, but Harry bit his tongue. He could handle it for one night. He could also hear the scratching of Ginny’s quill. He then realized something. “Um, Ginny? Don’t you have classes?�

“Oh, a mere technicality. I’m not going to go today,� she whispered so Hermione couldn’t hear.

“Won’t you catch a fair bit of heat for that?�

“I only had Divination. The woman’s as high as a kite. She won’t notice.�

Harry grinned. She was so much like Fred and George. Their relation was unmistakable. Then he thought of another use for the journal. “Water closet,� he said, and dashed upstairs. As soon as he got to his dormitory, he ripped open the leather cover and wrote “Do I fancy Ginny Weasley?�

“Yes.�

“Do I fancy Luna, too?�

“In a way.�

“What way?�

“You lust for her.�

“Why can’t I figure girls out?�

“Because you are male.�

He laughed a little. At least now he had a clue as to what was going on. The only problem was that Ginny and Harry had liked each other for a while, yet they had settled into a comfortable pattern. He didn’t know if he had the guts to pursue anything with her. Then, there was Luna. “Should I talk to Luna?�

“Yes,� came the reply.

He looked at the clock. Five in the evening. He sighed. Now was better than never, he guessed. Without saying more than ‘bye’ to his friends, he walked out of the portrait hole, intent on finding Luna.

He saw a couple of Ravenclaws, and stopped them. “Have either of you seen Luna Lovegood?�

“Yeah, just saw her in the library,� said the boy.

Harry said, “Thanks,� and jogged to the library. He slowed to a walk when he got there. He spotted her within seconds, absorbed in an essay she was writing. Pulling out a chair opposite her, he sat awkwardly. “Can we talk?�

She glanced up with mild interest. “All right, let’s go,� she said, collecting her belongings. Without a second look or a glance back, she glided out of the library. Harry had planned on doing all of the talking in public, and in a place where no one could speak louder than a whisper. Unfortunately, she was ruining that plan.

Following behind her, he was sure he knew where she was heading. They arrived at the place, and she did the pacing ritual to gain access to the room. Before he knew it, he was alone in the Room of Requirement with Luna, and unsure of what was going to happen. Inside were a table with chairs and a candle, as well as a raggedy sofa off to the side.

“What did you need to say?�

“I’m sorry about the other night.�

“I’m not,� she said, utterly unconcerned about his regret.

“I just . . . have a lot going on.�

“I didn’t want to talk, really.�

“I know . . . huh?�

She leaned over and kissed him softly on the lips. “Was that all you had to say?� she asked, merely for politeness’ sake, because she didn’t bother waiting for the answer. Harry found himself stumped for words, but at that point, his brain had shut down anyway.


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Quite a few minutes later, Harry peeked out the door to the Room of Requirement to make sure the coast was clear. When he saw that it was, he briskly walked down to the Great Hall, as it was time for dinner. He didn’t look to see if Luna came out behind him. She was in the past. Despite other things that had happened, he had managed, in the end, to let her know that he simply did not have time to continue a relationship with her. She said she’d known all the long, and that was that. Harry knew one thing: he would never tell a soul what happened.

Upon entrance into the Great Hall, he soon saw his friends and sat with them. “Where’ve you been, mate?� asked Ron.

“Oh, taking care of stuff. Stopped by the library. You know.�

Ron only nodded and shoveled some rice into his mouth. Hermione looked delighted. “Good for you, Harry! It’s so nice to see someone working hard on their studies.�

“Um, sure,� he said, and flushed slightly. Ron caught it and smirked out of his girlfriend’s sight.

Harry noticed the young Miss Weasley looked especially happy tonight. Her eyes were sparkling and she was laughing and smiling more than usual. Currently, she was deep in conversation with a fifth year girl. Suddenly, he was very thankful that she’d given him the journal. When she finished her chatting, she caught Harry’s eye. “So we can do the thing right after dinner?�

“Right,� he smiled. At least Hermione couldn’t harp on him about homework, as he already had begun his essay. He was so distracted at the time that it probably looked like at two-year-old wrote it; but Hermione didn’t need to know that.

Without warning, there was the echoing sound of something hitting the floor- hard. Harry turned toward the sound, which came from the Slytherin table. It was a picture for the time capsule. Malfoy stood near the long bench at his table. There was quite a distance between him and anyone else, which was highly unusual, being the affluent student he was. The closest ones to him were holding their noses and grunting in an unattractive fashion. Malfoy glared at the whole lot angrily, and seated himself. The careful observer noticed his teeth clenched in a tight grip. He filled up his plate as Snape walked over, and guided him, with his full plate, out of the Hall.

“Oh poo! Snape’s probably going to help him!� Ginny complained.

Hermione glanced over snottily. “Perhaps. He’ll have a difficult time trying,� she said proudly.

The others only laughed at her and ate the rest of their meals companionably.


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Ginny had suggested Harry’s dormitory for comfort and privacy, but soon after, they saw Dean head up, and thought it was a bad idea after all. They weren't keen on riling up her ex boyfriend again. She then suggested the Room of Requirement, but Harry shot that suggestion down without any explanation. They settled for a semi-private corner of the common room, a bit later in the evening to avoid bystanders.

“So are we going to do another reading, then see if I have another dream?� Harry asked as he crossed his legs on the floor.

“No, I read you all the time- well, on accident. I was thinking we’d try something . . . if you are all right with that, I mean.�

He thought about it for a moment, and decided to go ahead with her plan. “What’s your idea?�

“I was thinking today about how my reading made it easy for you to see inside Voldemort’s mind-“

“You say his name?�

“Yes. But I was thinking about when Hermione said his defenses were lowered. They’re probably not anymore. So we’ll need more strength. If my reading you from a distance was strong enough to induce a form of Legilimency, then maybe a direct reading would be more powerful.�

Harry raised an eyebrow in answer. “You don’t think so?� she asked.

“No, I mean, I do . . . it’s just . . . well, that’s pretty clever of you.�

She grinned happily. “Thanks.�

“So, what kind of direct reading are you thinking of?�

She put her hands out in front of her, palms facing Harry. He, recognizing what she meant, did the same. “I need you to focus on whatever kind of connection you have with Voldemort. I will basically just try to do the reading, but I expect it to be a little different.�

Harry only looked at her curiously. She wasn’t looking into his eye, and their hands weren’t yet touching. She was avoiding being thrown into a reading, he knew. She looked unsure, and it unsettled him a bit. “Um, I don’t really know how long this could take, and I don’t know what we’re going to get. If you want a break, just kind of nudge me, you know? And I’m going to close my eyes. You can too.�

She took a deep breath and closed her hazel eyes. After a minute, Harry felt silly staring at her, so he closed his eyes also.

It was almost as if the two had drifted off to sleep. It was taking all of their mental energy, though. Harry was having a hard time concentrating. He knew she was only seeing his thoughts and memories. He didn’t mind too much, but certainly didn’t bring up the horrible ones. Suddenly, his mind pulled up the memory of Voldemort sticking out of Quirrel’s head, and he latched onto it. He could feel Ginny’s encouragement at this development, so he held on to it with even stronger will.

Then, in his mind’s eye, he dove into the eyes of the sickening, snake-like face. He knew it was at that point that he truly began to sap at Ginny’s energy. He could feel himself pulling it away from her. Through it all, he felt like she was right behind him. He felt more secure with her there (strangely, as she had only been in battle with him once), and it gave him a push to continue.

At first, the blur of thoughts was too immense, he couldn’t make a clear picture out of any of it. Then, he saw a familiar thought. The crying baby with the screaming mother. Everything slowed down enough for Harry to comprehend, albeit quickly. There was a flash of Lucius Malfoy. “It’s in his friends! It’s them!� and his gruesome death. Then, a horror appeared before him. Percy, looking ragged and pale. He was shaking badly, and covered in gashes and bruises. “I won’t tell you! I won’t!� There was a muttering from Voldemort. “Kill me then! Do it!� A great flame leapt up in front of Harry.

It was so close, he physically leapt back, trying to break the connection. Ginny grabbed his fingertips so tightly, they throbbed. As he felt himself being slowly pulled back from Voldemort’s mind, he heard a loud scream. Still, he was tenderly stepping away until he opened his eyes.

Ginny’s face was shimmering in the firelight. She was heartily crying. Then she jumped up and shouted “Ron! RON! We have to tell Dumbledore! He’s got Percy!� She didn’t wait for his reaction as she ran, full-blast, out of the common room and into the hall way. She wasn’t reacting like someone terrified. The tone of her voice was one of determination, courage and anger.

Ron and Hermione shot him frightened looks before all three tumbled out of the room after Ginny, hoping against all odds, Percy could be rescued. Ron, being rather tall and lanky, had the advantage in running, and soon passed his younger sister. Harry and Hermione were left a bit further back, struggling to catch up. When Ron reached Dumbledore’s office door, he whipped around. “What’s the password?� he shouted at Harry.

“Dung Beans!� he yelled back at him. The door opened to reveal the spiral staircase, and Ron dashed up, with Ginny only inches behind. They burst through the open door to his office, surprised to have such easy access. Ginny spoke as soon as she spotted the bespectacled professor. “Professor Dumbledore, Voldemort’s got Percy! We have to stop him!�

Seated behind his desk, Albus Dumbledore looked sadly at them. Harry and Hermione ran in at that moment, and saw the picture before them with the awful truth imbedded in every air particle. “I am sorry. Ginny, Ron. Percy is gone.�

“What? No! I saw him! He’s still alive; we have to hurry!� When Dumbledore didn’t stand, Ginny became irate. “Aren’t you going to do anything?� she asked venomously, leaning over the headmaster’s desk. “All you do is sit there, all high and mighty! But you won’t even lift a finger to go help my brother!� she spat at him.

“There is nothing any of us can do now, Ms. Weasley . . .� he responded with regret.

“Yes there is!� shouted Ron. “Where is he?�

“He is in Romania. The Dark Mark was seen over an abandoned home, where he was being held,� he said slowly.

Ginny’s eyes widened and she shook. Harry couldn't tell if it was with sadness or fury. Ron glanced from his sister back to Dumbledore. “But . . . he can’t be. She . . . saw him . . .� Ron’s face fell as he finished, knowing the truth. Harry and Hermione looked on in shock. The latter had her own tears spilling onto her cheeks. Harry clenched his fists to stop them from shaking.

Dumbledore stood, took out a cauldron, and said “Portus.� He looked at the small assembled group. Harry and Hermione were in the background, unsure of how to feel. Ron was holding a wrenching Ginny, who alternately struggled to get away and collapsed back into his arms; having a difficult time figuring out how to react. Tears rolled down her face with wild abandon.

“I will arrange everything here. You two shall stay with your family through the weekend.� He brought the cauldron to them and motioned for them to hold it. They did so mournfully. “I am so very sorry . . .� he said, before they disappeared, transported to Grimmauld Place.

“Why can’t we go?� asked Harry accusatorily.

“You will. Tomorrow evening. Tonight, they need time.�

“What’s that supposed to mean? They’re as good as my family!�

“As am I! Ron would want me there!�

“I have no doubt as to the truth in that,� he replied diplomatically. “However, I need you two here.�

“For what? What’s more important than-“

“I need to know how- and what- Ginny saw.�

“It can wait!� shouted Harry, but knew it wasn’t true; even through his nauseating wrath.

Hermione’s head hung, “We have to now, Harry. It could help, maybe. Or some other time, it could . . .� She glared hard at the floor.

Dumbledore indicated for them to sit, and they did so, but Harry held on to Hermione’s hand, for her comfort as much as his. He decided to explain the situation to his headmaster, but would demand that he be transported to London immediately after. He bit down his bitter anger.

“We tried to do a stronger reading . . . where . . . where we could see his thoughts even when his defenses are up. At first, it was hard to break in, but then I kind of got in through one of my memories of him.�

He nodded. “I surmise she saw everything you did?�

“Yes. We were connected . . . physically.�

“She would have lent great strength to your Legilimency powers.�

“I guess so . . . I didn’t really think of it as Legilimency, though . . .�

“Ah, but that was the act you performed. In a less traditional manner, yes. Harry, I must now ask you exactly what you saw.�

“Well, I saw Percy . . . he had been tortured, but said he wouldn’t tell. Then . . . th-there was a scream.� He looked at Hermione, and saw her lip trembling. It reminded him of something else he saw. “Malfoy. He was there.�

“It had to have been an older memory you saw, then. Lucius, I presume?�

“Yes. He was on his knees and saying something like, ‘It’s his friends.’�

If possible, the headmaster’s face fell to a disappointment abysmally deeper than sadness.

“What?� he asked, worried now and slightly regretting mentioning it. “What does that mean?�

“It means Voldemort has discovered something I had hoped he would not dignify as anything significant. It is something Malfoy would have known through his son, however, and one day, I suppose, he was bound to tell him.� He sighed regretfully. “Part of the reason you’ve survived these many obstacles and battles, is through the assistance of your friends. Do you agree?�

“Well, yeah, but-“

“You’ve been blessed with the uncanny ability to make deeply dedicated, loyal friends. Until this point, Voldemort dismissed them; they were unthreatening because they were young. Now, he heard Mr. Malfoy’s argument, has looked into your mind, and found verification.�

“Verification? Of what? That I have friends?�

“That your friends have, and will, continue to make you stronger.�

Although he hadn’t always expressed it, Harry’d always held an appreciation for his friends. He’d never thought of them in the guardian angel light, as that seemed to be what Dumbledore was implying. Now that he thought about it, he began to wonder what would have happened if Hermione hadn’t figured out the basilisk, or if Ron hadn’t won that giant Wizard Chess game.

“Ms. Granger, may I ask for your account of this evening’s events?�

“Well, Ron and I were keeping an eye on the reading. Ginny asked us to, in case anything went wrong. They were sitting there for fifty minutes or so before it started.�

“How could you tell?� asked Harry.

“Your faces tensed up. Ginny was pushing hard against your hands. You two were like that for about twenty minutes, when you tried to pull away really hard. She held on to you though . . .�

“I remember that. Why?�

“Harry, do you recall the night when Mr. Weasley was attacked?�

“Yes.�

“When you awoke, you jerked out of Voldemort so abruptly, it alerted him to your presence. Ginny stopped you, so you both could back away unnoticed. I’m impressed with such self control. Especially under the circumstances.�

Hermione’s brow was creased. “Harry? Has Voldemort still been getting into your mind often?�

“Yeah. So what? I’m used to it,� he said distractedly.

“Well . . . we can’t just let him know everything . . . you know?� she said cautiously.

“Well, what do you want me to do? Walk around blindly, not knowing anything? Do you even remember that that was how Sirius got killed?� he shouted.

“Well, I was just thinking that m-maybe you could try Occlumency again . . .�

“That I should buddy up with Professor Snape? Yeah, right. Like that’ll happen.�

“I would like to teach you, Harry,� said Dumbledore.

“But you said-“

“I learned my lesson last year, Harry. I’m afraid we must choose between Occlumency, and keeping you in the dark, which is an option none of us care for.� He gave the tiniest nod toward Hermione.

They both looked at Harry expectantly until he finally muttered, “Fine. But I want to go to see the Weasleys’ now.�

“I’m afraid that would be inadvisable.�

“Why?� he said, newly angry.

“They need time to heal, before-“

“I want to go too!� said Hermione, standing. “We can’t stand idly by. We have to help in whatever way we can, and we can’t do it by staying here.�

Harry stood straight with determination. “If you won’t portkey us, we will walk there,� he said matter-of-factly.

Dumbledore sighed. “Even with events as these, Molly would never forgive my allowing you two walk the night . . .�

Hermione looked at him with pools of saltwater in her eyes. She circled his desk and pulled him into a tight hug. “Oh thank you! The longer we wait, the worse it would be. I think it best that we go now.�

Dumbledore grabbed a quill from his desk. “Portus.� He paused a moment. “It will be difficult to see what you will, and still think there is good in the world. Without perseverance, we, as people, would no longer exist. Let this remind you of what you can do to change the world.�

The two nodded, grabbed the quill, and their navels pulled them straight into London.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The scene before them evoked the kind of palpable tension only death creates.

Everyone was there. Mr. Weasley was trying to comfort his wife, whose eyes were rimmed in a raw red color. Her whole body was trembling with an effort to hold back the torrent of emotions that were threatening to wash out of her with all the rage of a waterfall. She held back for her children, who didn’t bother withholding. Ginny was sobbing on her mother’s lap. Arthur’s head rested on Molly’s; his arm lay protectively around her. His eyes were glazed over as he glared into the flickering fire.

Ron sat on the sofa at the feet of his sorrowful sister, ramrod straight. His hands clasped in his lap, he didn’t move. He didn’t blink, but his Adam’s apple bobbed almost continually. Bill, Charlie, Fred and George were in the corner, whispering with low hisses.

When Hermione spotted Ron, she rushed over and threw her arms around his neck. With his girlfriend blocking everyone’s view of him, Ron let his rigid sorrow be released. Harry walked over to Mrs. Weasley, wanting badly to apologize for something he wasn’t sure of. She looked up at him with an indistinguishable expression. Still, she held out an arm, and Harry gladly hugged her, hoping that it helped in some way. His stomach felt like he’d swallowed an eggplant whole as he pulled away, leaving her to handle the bereaved Ginny. He looked at the group in the corner. George saw him and motioned him over.

“How did she know?� Bill asked when the dark-haired teenager got close enough.

“She saw it, when . . . uh, we did a reading,� he said uncertainly.

“Mum told us Ginny can see auras?� prompted Fred.

“Yes. Well, that’s what we call a reading. Kind of.�

“So your aura said Percy was being held captive?� asked George disbelievingly. He probably would have normally cracked a clever joke, but these were different circumstances.

“No. She went into my mind, and we went into You-Know-Who’s. Kind of a psycho-Legilimency thing.�

“I had no idea she could do that,� said Charlie.

“None of us did. Not until tonight, anyway.�

“Gin couldn’t speak when she arrived. What exactly happened, Harry? We all just got a message to come here quickly,� said Bill.

“What did you two see?�

Harry grew nervous again. He felt a pressure in the room as tangible as the death that touched the family. His head felt like it held a pound of pure lead. He didn’t care to share as much as Ginny didn’t. He understood what would happen if he came. As the only other person who knew what was going on was otherwise occupied, it was his obligation to at least answer a few questions. “We saw . . . his last moments.�

They took a moment to let this fact dribble down their spines like ice water. Suddenly, it seemed, the room was far too cold. Apparently, Mr. Weasley felt the chill as well, because he struck up a fire in the brick fireplace. The flare of the flames lent a rosy glow to everyone’s face. Harry wondered if this was where the fire was in his vision. Then he realized it couldn’t be, because Voldemort could not read the future, and this scene could not have been in his brain.

Fred spoke up. “What I don’t understand is, why Percy?�

“What’s the point in getting him?�

“V . . . You-Know-Who wanted information,� Harry answered regretfully.

“From Percy? All he knew was Cornelius Fudge, and now that he’s been sacked, it’s useless information,� said Charlie.

“It wasn’t about Fudge . . .� said Harry quietly, staring at the painting over the mantelpiece. It was the scene of a great battle. The streaks of spells flashing across the painting were nearly beautiful, even in their deadliness. There was much blood. One poor wizard in the corner was artfully painted. His eyes lay wide open and the skin on his cheek had been scraped off. Bone could be seen through the injury, and his leg was gruesomely bent at an inhuman angle.

“What then?� interrupted Fred, quickly irritated at Harry’s inattention.

Bill’s jaw twitched. “The only other thing Percy knows . . . knew about was . . .�

The widening eyes confirmed the answer. They knew.

“I’m sorry,� was all Harry could say, loathing himself for the part he played.

Harry felt like it was his fault; as if he’d betrayed the whole family by allowing Voldemort to see the Weasleys’ importance. They just stared at him. He couldn’t tell if their narrowed eyes were a confirmation of his feelings, or if they were simply wearing the expressions of people thinking hard about the repercussions of their realization. They were silent for what felt like hours. If there was a normal clock in the room, he certainly would have heard the tick-tick-tick of the second hand. Instead, he heard Ron’s low, husky voice, Ginny’s shuddering breath, and the occasional whispers of Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. Harry avoided their eyes. He was appalled to find his eyes always coming back to the painting over the mantle. He was afraid of the blame they surely would hoist upon his back. “It’s you!� they would say. “It’s your fault he’s dead! We should throw you out to those wolves!� Had he chosen to look into even one face, he would have seen only the perception of hovering danger; bravado laced with intense fear.

“Uh,� Charlie began, clearing his throat. “So, he . . . died because he didn’t know anything?�

He realized Percy had never been to Grimmauld Place. Even if there wasn’t a Secret Keeper for the Order, Percy had no information to give. “He never said he didn’t know anything. He kept saying he wouldn’t tell . . .�

“So he was all right?� asked George.

“After everything . . .� said Bill.

Fred looked aghast. “Blimey.�

“Yeah,� said Harry unnecessarily. “He was.�

With the newfound information that Percy refused to give them up, even after he’d effectively disowned his own family, offered some comfort to the remaining members of the Weasley clan. Finally, something Harry said made it a little better than terrible and pointless. There wasn’t much to say after that, so he turned back toward the group on the furniture, along with the older male Weasleys. He spotted Ginny looking at them as they approached. Her eyes were squinting, and Harry assumed it was from the lighting the fire offered. She seemed mollified, and satisfied in her findings. She gave Harry a very slight nod.

She turned to her parents. “ I want you to know, he died for us, for the Order.�

They were stunned. Mrs. Weasley sucked in her breath audibly. “What? Darling, what do you mean?�

“Yes, how could you know that?� asked Mr. Weasley, obviously concerned. “Has Harry had another vision?�

“Erm . . .Well, yes . . .� she replied evasively.

Harry hadn’t expected the crestfallen droop of his eyes. He didn’t know it was even possible. It made Arthur look far beyond his years. Each wrinkle became more pronounced. His forefinger and thumb pressed hard into his eyes. Harry’s chest constricted as though in a vice. He wasn’t sure he could handle Mr. Weasley’s tears. “If only . . .� he choked out. The family waited for him, anticipating a question. He paused, and took a moment to collect himself. His forehead resting on his palm, he asked Harry with great anxiety, “Was it quick? He didn’t suffer, did . . .?�

Harry’s eyes flickered at Ginny for a millisecond. He didn’t want to lie, but he was sure he couldn’t say it out loud, to himself or them. “No . . . n-no he didn’t,� he said simply.

Ginny affirmed with another one of her private nods. It was good that such a simple phrase made them feel better, but Harry heard the echoing scream resounding in his brain.

The family all pretty much stayed in the sitting room for the remainder of the long night. Occasionally, Molly would go into the kitchen to replenish the tea. Sometimes, Mr. Weasley would go with her, and they would stay gone for long periods of time. Ron and Hermione were sitting against the wall, speaking in hushed tones. Harry was glad for Hermione’s presence. Harry had no idea what to say to Ron. “I’m sorry your brother’s dead,� just seemed too blunt and inappropriate.

Once, late into the night, Hermione all but pushed Ron into the kitchen. He was biting back anger. His face bulged in a deep red. Harry was unpleasantly reminded of Uncle Vernon. It was disturbing to see his best friend in such form. Harry only heard disconnected words, a few thuds, and a plate shattering. Harry felt helpless. After some time, he and his girlfriend walked back into the room, and asked for some pillows and blankets. Harry watched Bill and Charlie absently as they retrieved the requested supplies.

The vision he and Ginny shared coursed through his brain repetitiously. Nearly all of it made sense, after Dumbledore had explained it. Harry expected quite a bit of information passed freely between Malfoy and his father. This bit was likely the ranting of annoyance rather than purposeful blabbering. It didn’t weaken Harry’s hatred of Malfoy. In fact, the whole of it seemed very Kreature-like. As Sirius felt about the embittered house elf, so Harry felt about Malfoy. He was a constant nuisance, muttering insults under his breath and wagging his tongue to Lucius Malfoy. The cruel comparison made Harry feel slightly satisfied.

There was only one part of the vision that as yet remained a mystery. The great flame that rose up- so close that he felt flushed by it- pinched at his thoughts.

At a time that was either very late, or quite early, the household received word that Dumbledore would be arriving that Thursday to assist with the Releasing Ceremony. The event was based upon the same principle as Muggle funerals, as Harry understood it. Yes, that Thursday was going to be dismal and despairing.

Mrs. Weasley encouraged everyone to go to bed, but they only shrugged it off. “I can’t sleep,� said Ginny without emotion.

She tried to stay up with her children, but Mr. Weasley sweetly asked her to come up to bed with him. With a comforting arm about her waist, he slowly led his wife upstairs. Moments like these reminded Harry of why they stayed together over the years. He gained a kind of hope from witnessing such sweet scenes.

No one else felt inclined to leave the sitting room. It was as if they were afraid to blink, for fear one of them would be snatched away while one’s eyes were closed. Harry noticed a few cots out, along with the multitudes of plush, cotton covers and pillows. They would all sleep together, the Weasleys, and take comfort in the presence of their kin. The loss of Percy created an urge to cling fast to one another.

Harry saw a bit of himself in the human need. He, however, had no family to cling to. Renewed sorrow leapt up from somewhere behind his sternum. Yes, he was sad for Percy. He hadn’t known him too well, though. He would never tell the others, but Percy’s death reminded him of Sirius’, and caused him more pain than he could ever feel for the former Head Boy. Why couldn’t Voldemort just forget about everyone else, and come after Harry, like he wanted to?

He knew why. He understood the logic behind the tragedy. It didn’t filter through his anger at the pointlessness of it all, though. Everyone was dying- because of him! He would gladly give up his life if he knew it would be the end of Voldemort’s reign of hypocrisy and murder. He knew that wouldn’t happen. So the self-styled Dark Lord wanted eternal life? It looked like he’d achieved that, so what was the point? Did he want to be King of the World or something? Would even that be enough?

He kicked the leg of the sofa, resulting in a pulsing ache in his toes, and shooting pain in his calves. He’d been pacing, frustrated and restless, seeking an answer within his mind. However, there was only one person who had an answer, and it was the very man he wished he knew how to kill, once and for all.

Ginny called him from amid a pile of blankets in front of the fire. “Harry? Sit with me . . .�

He went over and settled next to her, propping one leg up. Her face looked sunburned from being so near the fire. “Why don’t you go get a cot? You’re getting burned.�

“I can’t. Everywhere else is so cold.� She glared with malice at the very fire that brought her inner comfort. She bit her upper lip in thought. “It was good of you to lie to them. I wanted to thank you for that.�

“Lie?�

“About his death being painless.�

“You heard it too, then? In the vision?�

She only looked down at her hands in response. While she was in the throes of remorse several hours earlier, this was not the pose she held now. Her knees were brought up, slightly apart, with her arms folded across them. It was a contemplative posture.

“I was thinking earlier. I wondered if it was worth it.� Harry looked at her questioningly, but chose not to interrupt her stream of thoughts.

“Why do we bother going through with all of this? Trying to save everyone’s life. What would happen if there was no more Voldemort? People still would have lost their families.� Her voice acquired a hard edge. “And in the end, some other dark wizard will rise up and claim the power. Can there ever be peace? Is there even such a thing as peace?�

Harry thought for a moment. “I don’t think it matters.�

“What do you mean?�

“Maybe it doesn’t matter if peace exists or not. It’s just something we have to believe in to carry on with our lives.�

“I suppose . . .� she said thoughtfully, absently picking at her nail.

“Even if there is another Voldemort,� he continued, “if we can make life safer . . . and happier- if only for a little while- isn’t that better than not trying at all, and living every day in a horrible world?�

“Do you really believe that?�

“I have to. It’s something my parents- and Sirius- died for . . . and Percy. If I didn’t believe there was something better in the future; some short-lived happiness, then I wouldn’t bother going on. My life’s been rubbish. It’s the moment that matters, I guess I’m trying to say. ‘Seize the Day’ and all that.�

She smiled a little. “Carpe Diem . . .Well,� she sighed, “If that’s the case, then I won’t be backing down. Personally, I’m looking forward to that happy day.�

“I knew you wouldn’t back down. You’re stronger than that. Besides, I need you on my side anyway in case you develop any more interesting powers.�

She snorted a little. “I have plenty to be getting on with.�

“That aura bit has to be annoying; always seeing colors and thoughts . . .�

“Oh, it’s not as bad as you would think. The job’s got its perks.�

“Like what?�

“Like knowing who’s got a thing for Ron,� she smirked.

“Oh really?�

“Yep!� she said proudly. “And, who’s got a thing for me . . .� she said tentatively.

He raised an eyebrow and tried to appear nonchalant. The air suddenly got quite tense, and Harry wasn’t at all comfortable in it. She rested her chin on her forearms, looking into the flames. “Yes, well, I wish he could read MY aura. Then he’d realize that all he has to do is ask, and I’d be happy to go with him,� she said matter-of-factly.

Harry absolutely had to ease the tension. “Is Goyle that obvious?� he joked, trying to get out of this strange hole.

She punched him in the leg. “Oh, right!�

“Ow! You’ve been working out . . .�

After a much lighter moment, she rested her hand on his wrist. “Look. Tomorrow’s going to be hard. Could you, maybe, back me up if I start to fall to pieces?�

“Anytime, bully.�

The corner of her mouth twitched up. “Thank you . . . for the whole night,� she said, and let her lips skim across his cheek. She didn’t see him blush as her head fell to his shoulder. Instinctively, his arm wrapped around her back.

Chapter Twenty-Six

Harry woke up to unfamiliar surroundings, and took a minute to remember the events of the evening before. He couldn’t recall even falling asleep, much less the time such an event occurred. Someone had thought to cover him up after the fire had gone out. Ginny was no longer beside him. She had likely woken up early. Harry realized that she wasn’t the only one who had vacated the room. No one else could immediately be seen. He clamored to a stand, and followed the smell of greasy, frying sausages and the rich, earthy smell of potatoes into the kitchen. He couldn’t hear any conversation through the door, and so, could only be reassured of their presence by crossing the threshold.

Hermione and Ron fell into view as he passed through the sitting room. They were cuddled up the same way they were in the boys’ dormitory the other night. Even asleep, Ron looked exhausted. He wasn’t taking Percy’s death well at all, understandably. Today was the day of the Releasing Ceremony, Harry remembered. He took a deep breath, preparing for the gloom on the other side of the door.

His nose had correctly identified the savory scents. What joy there normally was at the breakfast table could not be located by any sense, however. Judging by the deep-set wrinkles, protruding veins, and darkened eyes, the few hours of sleep they may have acquired did little to soothe their minds.

“Good Morning, Harry,� said Mr. Weasley in a manner that meant otherwise. “Please sit. Breakfast will be ready shortly.�

Harry felt sitting wasn’t the right thing to do. “Actually, I was hoping I could finish up for you, Mrs. Weasley,� he replied, approaching the stove.

“Oh, don’t be silly-“

“It would help,� he interrupted pointedly.

Her shoulders relaxed and she handed the spatula over to Harry. He immediately got to work turning the hash, while Mrs. Weasley sat next to her husband at the table. She took his hand and gave it a strong squeeze. He, in turn, gave her a small smile. Their method of coping, grieving, and being strong for their family, was relying on each other’s strength.

Ever the matriarch, she glanced at each of her children to check on their well-being. Bill, Charlie, George and Fred sipped at their tea, staring anywhere but at each other. They had yet to shed a tear, but their contemplative silence spoke volumes about their true feelings. They were men, so they refused to open a hole in their towers of strength, for fear that they would crumple. Ginny was at the end of the long, wooden table. Her head was resting in her palm, and she was tracing the rim of her cup constantly and mindlessly.

The line between Mrs. Weasley’s eyes creased with concern. “Ginny dear, you’ve been up for some time. Are you sure you wouldn’t fancy a nap?�

“No, Mum,� she sighed. “I’m all right.�

Molly’s face crushed like a paper bag, and a tear rolled down her cheek. “Oh. I love you all so much!�

“We love you too, Mum,� said Charlie softly.

“It’s just so . . . Most of you are in the Order, and now he’s coming after us . . .� her voice wavered.

“Molly, you don’t have to-“ said Mr. Weasley, moving to hold his despairing wife.

“No, Arthur. I want to.� She looked at them seriously, with bloodshot eyes. “I care for you all, so much,� she said, now and then looking at Harry, as well. “I want you to know that. And . . . I am so afraid to lose someone else. One . . . it’s bad enough.� She sniffled and looked at her husband. He gripped her hand, encouraging her to finish. “But, I do want you to go on. We have to. Just . . . just, please, think of your mother and father before you do something dangerous. Be careful . . .�

Mr. Weasley took over for his wife. “It’s difficult to think about continuing on with . . . the Order, and our purpose, but we have to. We can beat this. We just cannot give up hope.�

The Weasleys offered them small smiles of thanks. Harry listened to their blurred speech slumped, with his arms hanging loosely. They didn’t give the kind of speech one hears in films, but everyone felt the impact and meaning of those words anyway. They were truly loved, and they had a duty to help the wizarding world fight against Voldemort. He appreciated their unspoken efforts to include him in their emotional oration more than he could say.

Feeling anti-climactic, Harry cleared his throat. “Well, um . . . breakfast is ready . . .� he said and set plates in front of each person. Ron and Hermione wandered in later with immense yawns. No one felt like talking. They merely pushed the food around their plates with the appetites of rabbits. After some time, they admitted defeat and left the kitchen. For the first time, the dishes were left by the sink, unclean.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


It was a grey, dreary outdoors. The clouds hung low, dark with pregnancy. It was normal for this part of the world, but Harry felt as if this day was created by nature out of distress over Percy’s death.

Dumbledore had arrived previously, looking absolutely devoid of energy- a rare sight. He said he’s spent his evening putting up safeguards should an attack be launched against Hogwarts during his absence. He’d also mentioned that Harry’s affairs there had been successfully postponed for a few days. Harry hadn’t wasted a thought on the matter, however. Just before disappearing into a private meeting with Molly (to prepare her for the ceremony), he’d mentioned that he needed to see Harry as soon as he returned to school. It was a cryptic message, and Harry couldn’t think of anything Dumbledore could want from him. He shrugged it off.

Harry stretched his fingers across the window glass upon which he rested his forehead. The whole ordeal last night only brought back the poignancy of Sirius’ death. The glass felt cool, with grotesquely cheerful rain drops trailing down. He scowled at them, but was grateful for the coolness. It was so difficult to see the point of it all, from his vantage point. Why should all the rest of the world be saved, when Harry seemed to be losing everyone?

Some moments, he was within seconds of giving up.

Hermione smoothly padded down the length of stairs to him. He was sitting on the landing floor in front of a tall window. She waited there for a moment. Then, with an “Oh!� she flopped down beside him and encircled his thin torso with her arms. “I’m so sorry, Harry,� she whispered solemnly. He could feel his shirt getting wet from her tears.

He remained silent. He put a consoling arm around her, but that was all. He couldn’t look her in the eye. He felt as if the moment he did, he would be a bawling baby. The ever-perceptive witch pulled away and looked simply, openly and honestly into her best friend’s green eyes. “Please, Harry? I need this . . .�

She slumped into this chest and he caught her, feeling terrible. As Harry recalled, Percy was someone Hermione put on a pedestal of sorts. Of course she needed to grieve too. She’d been huddled with Ron the whole time, feeling as if she had to be strong for him. She could only find sympathy with the only other outsider, Harry. She lay there in his arms, crying for the better part of an hour. Her unrelenting flow of sorrow gave way to intermittent gasps; then silence.

It was almost funny how the tendrils of hair stuck to the tear trails. She now had eyes resembling a raccoon’s. She, however, paid her looks no heed. “I have to ask you for a favor,� she said seriously.

“What’s that?� he asked, his voice husky.

“I need you to talk to Ron.�

“Hermione, I don’t think he wants-“

“He does. He just doesn’t know it yet. I just . . . I can’t do it all on my own,� her voice shook, “You know what it’s like. I don’t- not really. You can do better than me.� Although she’d stopped crying, her breathing hadn’t slowed. Her tone spoke of desperation. “Don’t avoid him. It’s easier, I know, but he needs you. Just you.�

He nervously glanced around the small landing, but caught her eye. He eyed his socks and muttered, “All right.�

She rested a palm on his shoulder. “Thank you, Harry, for this. For everything.� She leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Though her eyes welled up with tears again, she stared skyward and blinked them away.

Harry grudgingly went up the remainder of the staircase to the room he and Ron shared. He knocked quietly, inwardly hoping Ron wouldn’t hear, and Harry would be set free from this task.

“What?� called a groggy voice from inside.

Harry cracked open the door and stuck in his head. Ron waved him into the room grudgingly. He was lying on his bed, propped up against the headboard. He was half-heartedly flicking his wand. It would emit different colored sparks. It reminded Harry of himself those several weeks ago. “How are you holding up?� Harry asked, as sensitively- yet casually- as he could.

“I’m not leaping for joy or anything,� he said darkly.

Harry sighed. He knew this would be a challenge. “Can I?�

“What?�

“Well . . . just . . . I’m sorry, for . . .uh . . . what happened. I hadn’t said it before . . .� The sparks were getting stronger. Harry warily continued. “Do you, uh, want to talk . . . or something?� He added the last bit for masculinity’s sake. These scenes were always easier for girls.

Ron pursed his lips together. “Ok,� said Harry, and lay back on his own bed.

Moments later, Ron decided he did have something to say. “Why the bloody hell does he have to come after us?� he shouted. Harry was glad Ron’s wand was no longer within his grasp. “What do we have?�

Ron stood and angrily paced the room. He glared at the very air. “It’s my fault, you know,� he said distinctly Malfoy-like.

“It’s not-“

“It’s me that associated with you first year. Me! I brought him into this-“

“-Well I didn’t know this would happen!�

“Well, it did, didn’t it? Why can’t he just leave us alone? It’s you he wants!�

Harry couldn’t conceive of controlling his anger during this direct attack. “Hell, I guess I should just leave, huh? Just leave the country! Is that what you want?� he spat cruelly.

“I want you out of my life!�

“I want you out of my house!�

“This wouldn’t be your effing house if Sirius hadn’t died because of you!�

Ron had crossed the line. Harry swung a right hook into Ron’s face. He, in turn, charged at Harry, ramming his fists into his stomach. They grappled there, sending choruses of bangs and clunks downstairs. Hermione and Ginny burst into the room, one after the other. Their jaws dropped in shock at the sight before them.

“Ron!�

“Harry!�

The boys were far too caught up to pay attention, however. The ladies didn’t want to risk hurting them or themselves in order to break apart the fight. The only option- and ultimately, the best choice- was to let them expel their mutual aggression. Hermione and Ginny sat on Harry’s bed, watching shrewdly. There was nothing to fear. After all, the good punches had already been wasted. At this point, they were only wrestling away their anger.

Only a few minutes later, they broke away and sat panting on the floor. Hermione’s jaw was clenched. “And what’s all this about?�

“You two are best friends, and decided now would be as good a time as any to pummel each other to death?� Ginny snapped.

“He blamed Sirius and Percy on ME!�

“With good reason,� Ron growled back, achingly getting to his knees.

“What?� Hermione said, distressed. “It’s not his fault, and you know it!�

“Do I? Miss know-it-all?�

Harry and Ginny shrank back. Ron looked at her defiantly. Her voice dropped dangerously low. “Don’t you get started on me-“

“Or what?�

“Or you’ll lose yourself a friend AND a girlfriend.�

“You wouldn’t . . .�

She only glared back at him. He got his breath under control, and climbed to his feet. He sat next to his girlfriend, his clawed hands in his hair, and staring at the floorboards. As Harry worked at getting to his feet, Ginny spoke to her brother tentatively. “Ron? I know, ok? It’s hard to . . . try to do this without someone to blame. But . . . it’s not Harry.�

“I know,� Ron mumbled, annoyed.

After pausing a moment, she continued. “It’s hard for me too, you know. I didn’t . . .� Tears were forming in her eyes. “I didn’t even try to talk to him. I didn’t even get to tell him I’m sorry.�

He looked kindly at his little sister. “Gin,� he groaned, “I wasn’t even thinking about you. I’ve been-“ He gestured at nothing in particular.

He hugged her in a way that only a brother could. Sometimes, Harry didn’t appreciate that Ron and Ginny were part of a very close family. This was not one of those times. He gave her a consoling squeeze, and backed off a bit. Hermione held Ron’s hand in a manner reminiscent of Molly and Arthur. It was an association that lent a bit of warmth to the situation. Ron was twiddling with the bed sheets when he said, “And, I’m sorry, Harry. I . . . didn’t really mean all that. I-“

“I know.�

While the blood was still pounding through Harry’s veins, he mentally decided to let the gross offense rest. If it was said under any other circumstance . . . well, there were no guarantees. He realized he was staring through Ginny while he was trying to make his body calm down. His eyes focused on her. Her moment with Ron had left a hair sticking to her cheek. He used a finger to push it aside quickly. It felt familiar. She smiled weakly.

There was a knock at the door. The teenagers watched as Mr. Weasley quietly pushed it open and entered. If he saw the fresh bruises, he said nothing.

“The Releasing Ceremony will be held in forty-five minutes . . . at The Burrow.� His jaw clenched as he said, “I should tell you. They’ve set fire to our home.�

“What?� they asked, horrified.

“That’s stupid. We can repair it easily with magic-“

“Not everything, Ron,� said Hermione.

“Most of it was salvaged. That wasn’t the point. It was meant to be symbolic of their intent.�

“But Dad, what if they’re still there? Won’t they try to get to us during the ceremony?�

“No, Ginny, Honey. I’ve arranged an extensive guard, as well as many protective spells on the area. There were several people at the ministry who were eager to help. It’s what we’ve been doing most of the day. I think it’s the only appropriate place to . . . release him.� He choked up a bit, but blew in his eyes to dry them. “Girls, Tonks has set out black robes for you. You boys can find something black, as well?�

They nodded.

“Um, Mr. Weasley? What do we do? For the ceremony, I mean?� asked Harry. He had never been to a wizard funeral of any kind, and felt lost in the preparation.

“You’ll know.�

“How?� Harry didn’t want to appear rude, but he had to know.

“Do you remember that kind of magic you performed before you knew you were a wizard, Harry?�

Hermione nodded along with Harry. She was ever eager to learn new information. She had never been to a Releasing Ceremony either.

“We call it wandless magic. It comes from witches and wizards of long ago, who didn’t use wands. It is the type of magic that is used for Releasing Ceremonies. The ceremony goes beyond any of our books and teachings; it is ancient. The wandless magic comes from a part of ourselves that we sometimes forget. It’s something like a magical intuition. It will all come naturally.�

With that, he strolled out. Ginny and Hermione crawled off the bed. “We’d better go get ready.�

Harry had an easy time finding a black robe. Ron dug around for fifteen minutes, and managed to find a dingy one with a tattered hemline. He clicked his tongue in grudging acceptance, and put it on. Like most men, they were ready in minutes.

“Harry, can I ask you something?�

Harry looked at him, signaling an affirmative. “Percy was gone for so long, before . . . you know. So I can’t tell if it’s like he’s not gone now, or if he was gone the entire time.�

“Yeah?�

“Is that bad? Was he d- passed on, to me? Before?�

“No.�

“Really?�

“You’re not like that.�

“Oh.�

The conversation was enough for two teenage boys. Verbal clarity of thoughts was not their highest concern. They decided to pass the remaining minutes with a wordless game of Wizard Chess. Ron was playing mindlessly, so Harry was winning. It was a hollow victory.

Without warning, a low rumble sounded and the house shook as it would on an erupting volcano. It reminded Harry of a ship’s horn, but this one was more of a hum; as if done over a loudspeaker by a deep-voiced man. Both boys jumped to their feet and wandered into the hallway.

They walked slowly, side-by-side, and stared straight ahead. Hermione motioned them to fall in behind them by cocking her head to the side. The rumble continued, and Harry found himself humming with it. A glance to the side confirmed Ron was also. Harry couldn’t tell if it was the vibration or the noise, but the hairs on his arms were standing on end and chills continually raced down his spine.

They took each step down the stairs slowly. To Harry, it seemed to be a kind of dark wedding march. They steadily made their way into the sitting room. Some of the Order members were already there. They, too, were humming. Harry surmised they were likely the source of the uproarious noise. The sound was incredibly loud, but soothing in some way. Everyone was wearing black. There were a few new faces, but Harry didn’t think hard on that fact. The foursome filled a gap within a particularly large circle of people, and put their left hands on a large, silver hoop as the other did. As one, they stomped their foot once while continuing the eerie hum.

Upon the signal, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley came in through the kitchen. At least, Harry was certain that was who it was. Mrs. Weasley looked to be heavily shrouded. He couldn’t even see her face. They, too, touched the huge ring when they filled in the gap left open for the couple.

In unison, the group stomped once. Without thought, their free arms wrapped around the torso of the person to their right. Harry perceived it as a gesture of cohesiveness. The ring began to emit a faint, electric-blue hue. It gained strength and color. Harry felt the power of the object deep in his abdomen. The group took two stomps. The humming ceased instantly, and they were whisked away to The Burrow.

The fact that it was pouring rain at the Weasley home didn’t stifle the ceremony a bit. The instant they stood, they resumed the drone; only this time, it was even louder. Hundreds of other witches and wizards were there. They formed a large crowd, split down the middle. It was a passage for the company newly arrived- the family of the dead.

Harry could see, at the end of the passageway, a body lying on a high platform. His stomach tightened. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley led the way. In sets of two, they slowly walked toward what used to be Percy.

When they entered the sea of people, the hum was deafening. It only gained momentum as they neared the body, until it sounded as though the world was covered in bees. They each were handed a white lily as they passed. Harry was disturbed by a poignant thought about his mother.

When they reached the base of the platform, they formed a semi-circle. Harry noticed Mr. Weasley joined the family, but Mrs. Weasley did not. Harry, along with the rest of the family, locked hands with the people on either side of him. Mrs. Weasley mounted a step Harry hadn’t seen before, turned and faced the massive gathering. She threw off her voluminous black robes to reveal scarlet ones. She opened her mouth, and out came a sound that reminded Harry of Indian music. Upon first hearing the shrill sound, the humming stopped. Her voice sent Harry’s heart in a flutter. The chill was perpetual.

In the distance, Harry could see The Burrow. Part of the roof was gone. Soot was visible all over. The windows were darkened. The house wasn’t getting wet though. There was likely a shield put over it. The prolonged silence brought back Harry’s attention.

Mrs. Weasley was both wet and crying. Ginny, Hermione, and- surprisingly- George were in a similar position. The rest seemed to be working constantly at controlling their emotions. Molly gathered herself, and began to sign an enchanting, lilting song; a lone voice in the black mass.

“We gather this day to mourn for thee,� she sang sweetly with high notes.

Unexpectedly, Harry found himself singing a response with the crowd. “Known to us all, blessed be, blessed be.�

“The thread of life is cut for thee.�

“'Tis Fate’s design, blessed be, blessed be.�

“The cloud collects; rain falls for thee.�

“They feel our pain, blessed be, blessed be.�

“Our hearts will bleed; we grieve for thee.�

“Heal our tears, blessed be, blessed be.�

“Though our souls, they cling to thee.�

“We set thee free, blessed be, blessed be.�

The last line, Mrs. Weasley sang with all of her emotion. It was drawn out, willing an end to the song. “We release thee.�

They responded in kind. “Blessed be.�

The words seemed to come directly from Harry’s soul. He felt as though the song was an ancient consciousness that resided in an abandoned corner in the minds of all of wizard kind.

Mrs. Weasley stepped down. Ginny, who was on the far left, moved onto the step. She set her lily on the body of her brother. The rain was pouring down in great buckets, extinguishing any chance of hearing what Ginny was so fervently saying to Percy. After a moment of her head lying on his stomach, she stepped down and returned to her place, as the next person followed suit.

Harry watched as each person returned. All were visibly upset upon their return. He had an inkling that Percy still looked the worse for wear. Too quickly, it was his turn. His feet and brain were numb. The rest of him felt soggy and cramped as he took the step.

Percy’s cheeks had sunk in, outlining his skull beneath. Harry’s breath caught in his throat. “I’m . . . sorry, Percy," he wavered. He looked down at the face he'd scowled at. It was the same one that now carried the deep scars of torture.

"I misjudged you . . . so many times." The hum washed through him, instilling a strength he thought had melted away. His every organ was vibrating with some surreal power. "I wish he didn’t come after you."

He stared at the face that held the features of so many dear to him. His jaw set as a heat rose in his face and burned his eyes. "You didn’t deserve it.� A tear rolled down his cheek, but it only felt like the rain that matted his hair. He looked up, and noticed the sky turning even more abysmally dark. “You did well. I want to say that," he said resolutely, resting his hand on Percy's arm. "And . . . thank you. Thank you for doing whatever you could to protect them . . . and me,� he whispered.

He gingerly set his lily atop the pile already on his chest. He took a last, lingering survey of his face, and then stepped down. Mr. Weasley took his turn- it lasted a long while- and then Mrs. Weasley did. She looked magnificent. Like everyone, her hood was off. Harry noticed that all of the women wore their hair down. Even though they were all sopping wet, it was a beautiful sight. There was a natural pulchritude about it.

When she finished, Mrs. Weasley turned toward the crowd. She lifted her arms into the air.

“Emancipatium,� they chanted as one.

They all stomped once, and the earth- rumbling droning recommenced. The sound escalated, and grew more vibrant. Harry then saw tiny specks of light rising out of Percy. They didn’t dissipate, but floated through the air, like bubbles. Some landed on noses; some floated endlessly upward. Many more floated into trees and onto the grass. Each light extinguished as it hit a solid object.

One such sprinkle fell upon a gold ring Harry had taken to wearing. It was the same Dumbledore had given him for his birthday. Instead of extinguishing, it ignited the ring, and caused it to illuminate for several seconds.

He was even more mystified when Percy’s body faded away as the last firefly-like lights emitted from his body. The thrum ended just as Percy was extinguished. Harry must have looked worried, because Mr. Weasley leaned in. “It’s supposed to happen. He is now a part of the air we breathe.�


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


The crowd was gone. After the ceremony, they approached the surrounding wood, which was rich green in color from the barrage of rain. The leaves lent a crisp quality to the air, and moved as the wet droplets landed upon their leafy veins.

The guests grabbed hold of their separate portkeys and left. Harry sensed an inner peace, or at least acceptance, after the ceremony. Still, he was curious. He saw Bill standing alone, staring vaguely through sheets of rain at the horizon.

“Bill?�

“Mm?�

“The lights. Was that his soul?�

“Yes, it was,� he sighed, and pulled his fingers through his long hair. It, too, hung freely. Pulling it back did little good, because the rain washed it back down onto his forehead.

“It was trapped in there until today?�

“Yes. That’s why it’s called the Releasing Ceremony. We release the soul to return from whence it came,� he said. His hand weaved through the air, and returned to his pocket.

“Where did he disappear to?�

“We don’t know, really. Does it happen to Muggles?�

“No.�

“No . . . I guess it wouldn’t, with the soul still inside.�

“I thought the soul leaves when they . . . when they pass.�

“No. At least, not in wizards. It- as I understand it- permeates every cell of the body, spreading out. That’s why they look like they’ve . . . gone. It’s no longer en mass, and offers no expression. Those tiny bits that spread out, those are what you saw tonight.�

“Oh,� said Harry lamely. It was disappointing to know wizards knew about as much as Muggles when it came to death. “And the lilies?�

“Symbolic of returning to our purest state. That’s also why they’re white.� He spoke with a low rumble. It seemed that speaking was soothing to him. “There’s a lot of symbolism. Mum was the Mistress of Ceremony as the matriarch of the family. There’s something special about a mother’s blood, which is why she wore red.� He paused, and spoke his thoughts aloud. “It was very difficult for her. She spent the whole day in training to channel her sorrow and power. Without that, Percy couldn’t have been released.�

“Can I ask something stupid?� asked Harry, reminding Bill of his presence.

The corner of his mouth tweaked upward. “Yeah.�

“Is it raining because of us?�

“I’ve wondered that before, too. I’ll put it this way: wizards have never been able to change the weather at will. Yet, strangely enough, I’ve never been to a Releasing Ceremony where it hasn’t rained, just like this.� He put his palm out in front of him, captured a few rain drops, and clasped them tightly in his fist. He seemed sad to see the drops slip between his fingers and fall to the ground.

“It’s kind of nice.�

“The rain?� he asked doubtfully.

“Yeah,� he said, staring off toward the trees, where he saw a young woman standing alone against the creeping darkness. “It feels like someone’s on our side.�

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Percy had long, unkempt dark hair. His eyes had taken on a hard edge. They flashed as Snape’s did, when he peaked in his loathsomeness. “Why did you kill me, Harry? All I ever did was love you.� His voice sank into that of an aged man’s.

“Sirius?� asked Harry, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He grit his teeth together. His eyes felt like they were sizzling in the corners.

“Yesssss?� the voice descended into a growl. Sirius became Snuffles. He crouched back on his hind legs, and the tension in his muscles was clearly evident. “You let me die!� he snarled. Foaming saliva crawled from between his teeth and dribbled down his chin.

The twisted features of Percy/Sirius/Snuffles disturbed him enough to snap him into near lucidness. “No I didn’t!� he screamed at the beast, bent forward in a show of false courage. It hurt him to speak against the creature he knew to be his godfather. However, he couldn’t feel his fingers and something felt odd.

A low rumble cascaded out his throat and into the air. He knew what that meant. “You did kill me. Now you will never see me again!�

“Sirius?� Harry whimpered.

Snuffles’ long snout hung low. His eyes bore into Harry’s, as though he could read the latter’s thoughts, thoughts apparently so well protected with lock and key.

“Wait . . .�

WHAM! Harry felt his skull crash into the headboard.

“Aargh!� he yelled. A muffled smack hit him across his face. It didn’t hurt, but was an unpleasant way to be woken. “What do you want?� he shouted in a husky tone.

“Wake up,� a female voice replied simply.

“Ginny? What’s going on?�

“I want to talk.�

Harry groaned. “Can’t it wait?� He winced as he pushed himself up onto his elbows. “I think I may be bleeding . . .�

Hermione sighed. “No, it can’t wait. If I have to be up, so do you two.� She sat on the end of Ron’s bed. It wasn’t immediately clear whether or not it was an accident, but Ron kicked his girlfriend, and in doing so, he knocked her to the hardwood floor, smacking her elbow in the process. “Ron!� she shouted, but had a grin plastered to her face.

She pounced on him, ticking his vulnerable sides. His giggles were somehow disturbing. Ginny and Harry rolled their eyes in unison.

“Listen,� she ordered. “Percy just died. Do you think you two can compose yourselves sufficiently to wait a few days before you resume playing around as if you were toddlers?�

The stern tone sounded so out of place that the other three froze and looked at her with a mixture of offence and awe.

“Gin . . .�

She threw up her hand to quiet them. “I think we should go back to Hogwarts tomorrow.�

“What?�

“Why? Mum-“

“Because we have more important things to do than sit around and let . . . things happen to us. We need to train, and we need to begin now.� Her stiff finger pointed towards the floorboards for emphasis.

Hermione interrupted the concerned silence at this declaration of intent. “Um, Gin? Don’t you think everyone needs a bit of time? The Releasing Ceremony was only yesterday . . .�

“Time for what? To mull over what happened? What good would that do?� She bitterly ground her teeth together. Her arms crossed her chest, a clear sign that she wasn’t willing to even consider another possibility.

Harry felt as if it had been years since Percy’s death. It seemed as if they’d been awake for just as long.

She continued a moment later. “On second thought, I can do it on my own. I’ll go back, with or without you lot-“

“We’re not going to let you go alone,� interrupted Harry.

Ron, as yet, said nothing. He merely worked the dirt out from beneath his fingernails and then admired the artistry of the door.

“I know you’re angry-“ Hermione began.

“Hmph.�

“But I don’t want this to cloud your judgment.�

Harry agreed. “If we run off and do something out of anger, well, we’ll probably mess up somewhere.�

Her eyes squinted accusatorily at him. “Oh really, Harry? Should we not do anything based solely upon our emotions? Let’s talk about that.�

“Let’s not,� he growled.

Hermione tried to keep peace between two very hard-headed friends. “Now’s not the time to argue. Ginny, you want to train, right?�

“Yes,� she spat, as if Hermione was an idiot.

“Well first, we can’t do anything until you catch a better attitude.�

“All you are doing . . . all of you! You’re sitting back, waiting for everything to come to a head!� Ginny furiously tossed her hair over her shoulder and paced, her shoes emanating small clicking sounds with each hurried step. She stopped, turned on her heel, and focused her expectation on Ron. “Don’t you have anything to say?�

“No, not really.�

She hunched over, her own fingernail digging into her chest for emphasis. “Oh, don’t you do this to me, Ronald-�

“Don’t call me Ronald!� he advised indelicately.

“Harry’s been your friend, and now you’re not interested in training to go into battle with him?� she accused. “And Percy! He was your brother too. You would let that . . . that . . . demon decide everything for us? When we live and when we die? Well . . . I won’t let you!� In short time, she hovered directly over Ron like a vulture.

Harry saw the situation only getting worse. “Ginny, back off!�

The change in the young girl frightened Harry. He’d never seen this side of her. It almost seemed as if her eyes had turned a putrid, yellowish colour. Every inch of her skin glowed pink. Her crowning glory was her ragingly ruddy and flushed face, complete with dead purple rings around her eyelashes.

“You! Shut it!� she bellowed malevolently at the boy who dared to admonish her. A split moment later, she and her pointed finger floated heavily a scant centimeter from Ron’s nose. It was as good as a verbal threat.

Ron would never hit his sister, but Harry saw a dangerous spark alight in his pupils. Charging, he grabbed Ginny around the middle with both arms and pulled her backward. She fought him tempestuously, flailing her arms and ripping her nails across Harry’s steadfast grip. “You owe me, Ron! You have to do it! You owe me!� she roared.

Somehow, Ginny managed to knock Harry’s leg out to the side, causing him to partially collide with the footboard on the way to the floor. Ginny landed on top of him. The weight of her body sent all the air fleeing his lungs in a rush. She rolled off of him, and watched, horrified, as he lay gasping for whatever scrap of air he could force down. “Oh, gosh, Harry? Harry? Are you ok? I’m sorry . . . I didn’t mean . . .�

She grabbed hold of his head and laid it in her lap. Her hand rested on his heaving chest.

“What did you do?� demanded a stiffly standing Ron. “He’s out of air! Nice goin’ Gin! Really-“

“Ron,� was all Hermione said. It was adequate. Hermione urged Ron to move with her toward the two on the floor. He glared savagely at his sister, but came over anyway. They seated themselves on the floor.

Harry sat up as the breath came in larger bits. Soon enough he was almost recovered, his chest burned, but he could inhale again. Breathing more slowly than usual, he took up a more comfortable posture, and looked to his friends to speak. For a minute, nothing was to be said. The words could only be felt in the thick, palpable air.

Hermione glowered at the floor, tapping her nails. The ticking sound seemed to help her to think. She glanced up, caught Ginny’s eyes, and gazed into them unflinchingly with a concoction of severe annoyance and tenderness. “We can’t go to Hogwarts, Gin. You were lucky enough to have the customary two-week mourning period cut short. We can go back on Sunday.� As Ginny began huffing again, she continued. “But, what we can do is train here.�

The idea blazed in Harry’s brain. “Of course! This is the headquarters of the Order! I’m sure we can get them to show us something new when they have a second.�

“It’s too bad the library is full of Dark Arts books instead of counter-curses,� muttered Ron, sounding not-at-all disappointed.

“No, wait . . .� thought Hermione aloud.

Ginny, finally, tweaked a half-smile. “We could get to know the enemy a little.�

Ron’s dismayed countenance was laughable. “We can’t learn the Dark Arts. What’ll Mum say?�

Hermione rolled her eyes exaggeratedly. “It’s not learning, it’s studying!� She flashed a smile and leapt up.

“Mum will pitch a fit when she finds out,� Ginny mused.

“You can’t tell her! You don’t even care about them, do you?� Ron scolded. “Percy’s dead! There’s nothing you can do now to bring him back! What you can do, is actually act like a . . . person, and go speak a little comfort to Mum, or talk with Bill a bit. What’s the point in running off like some little . . . warrior, determined to take down Voldemort? You can’t! You’re just a little girl!�

Without a sound, she strode over to Ron, and slapped him across the face. The CRACK echoed as if someone had Disapparated. A warm flush in the shape of a hand graced his cheek. “This little girl can do things with magic you’ve never thought of. This little girl isn’t trying to save her dead brother, she’s trying to save her friends! She’s trying to make sure her brother doesn’t die, because he doesn’t seem interested in learning how to save his own arse when Dumbledore isn’t around!�

His fists balled into tight wads of resentment. “I don’t need you to protect me! I can protect myself! I just . . .� he paused and ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t want to spend the rest of my life preparing for the end if it.� He mindlessly roamed around the room as he continued. “I want to live, Ginny. I want to have some happy moments. I want to have a good life, instead of worrying and fighting it all away.� He flung his hand wide and collapsed onto his quilt.

Hermione caught his arm and rubbed it a bit, with her bottom lip protruding. Ginny managed to let a tear mark her distress at such a statement. “I want that for you too . . . but we can’t have it unless we make it happen.�

Harry felt rather uncomfortable in their powwow, but finally had something to say. “All we’ve been doing up until now is preparing, Ron. And we’ve had some great times, haven’t we?�

He looked a little confused, which was far better than flat refusal. Hermione slipped her hands around his neck and pulled him into a close embrace. “We’ll make happy moments. I promise.�

Ron seemed comforted by the affirmations of his closest friends.

---

After spending an inordinate amount of time in the Black family’s library, Harry found a book that seemed useful. Libri della Vomica was written my Mateo Vermacielli a few centuries prior. In English, it was called Book of the Cursed. Inside were hexes and different types of spells designed for torturing victims. There were handwritten notes written in the margins. Harry guessed the book had belonged to Sirius’ younger brother. Fortunately, the odd pages were the original text, and the even pages were the translated text.

He went downstairs, and settled into a velvety red chair in the Drawing Room. After scanning the contents, he flipped to an interesting section on hallucinations.

Abruptly, he heard a door clap shut. He hastily looked toward the door, but saw that it was closed, as he’d left it. His eyebrows crawled together. There was a squeak. Harry was sure he didn’t make the sound. He wiggled around in the chair to try to recreate it, but couldn’t manage. There were no springs in the chair. Then, he heard the voice of an adult woman.

“What is it Arthur? I was busy, you know.�

There was another squeak. Harry followed the direction from which the noises were traveling. He discovered they wafted from the fireplace, which shared a vent with the fireplace in the room directly above the Drawing Room. Harry groaned quietly.

“Darling,� the voice began tenderly, “baking a thousand cakes won’t change anything. It won’t help you. I think you need to talk. Perhaps you could use a good cry.� There was a soft patting noise and the rustling of clothes.

“I don’t need to cry!� she shouted. “Crying isn’t going to bring him back either!� Despite her vehement protests, Harry could hear the sniffles stemming from sorrowful mucus. He wanted to leave the room, but was worried they would hear him. This was aside the fact that he appeared to be frozen to the floor.

“It wasn’t your fault, Molly. Deep down, you have to know that,� Arthur cooed to his wife.

“Maybe I wasn’t the one that killed him, but I wasn’t trying very hard to protect him! We dragged this whole family into the Order of the Phoenix, and look where it got us? Now You-Know-Who is after us! He murdered my son to get to the rest of us. Whose fault is that, Arthur? Whose?� CRASH! Harry winced at the impact of glass shattering against the back wall. “I’ll tell you who! Me! Us! Why d-did . . .� she panted, “Why . . .�

Mrs. Weasley broke down into sobs yanked from the soles of her feet through her mouth. It was the bleak sound of agony transmitted restrictedly through the incapable human body. Harry stopped breathing as he heard Mr. Weasley’s deep voice match hers in a tormented harmony. Her voice was muffled, but she continued her thought. “Why did he have to die? Why couldn’t it have been me?� she keened weakly.

Great hiccups of breath followed this statement.

“Molly darling, please don’t say that. Please . . . I couldn’t live without you . . . We’ll . . . it’ll . . .� Harry could hear no more. It didn’t matter, because the darkness in his heart absorbed all the light Harry may have felt. A dementor had lodged itself fixedly within the young man’s body.

The Knight Bus could not have been more adequately named. Harry was glad to escape Grimmauld Place, even if guilt nagged at him for such a sentiment.


He had managed to sneak out of the Drawing Room, softly clicking the door shut behind him. Harry was so mortified at listening to such a private conversation; that he resolved to never enter the room again. He’d managed to succeed in this aim for the rest of the weekend.

The four-some reconvened to go over interesting information they’d found. Aside from learning to channel hate for the three Unforgivable Curses, the spells were all rather standard. They quickly became disgusted when the books on Muggle torture had been brought out. Essentially, the books advised psychological warfare toward all people, magical and Muggle alike.

Then Harry recognized a quite unique spell that would, apparently, conjure a temporary ghost from an adversary’s past. The illusion would be an accusatory one, blaming the conjurer’s enemy for all its misfortune. Usually, the long dead personal demon was someone who used to be an important figure in the enemy’s life.

“This one sounds a lot like my dream,� Harry told them absently, once he’d explained the passage.

“If we were to practice that . . . well, it wouldn’t be pleasant. I don’t think any of us want to be tortured.�

“Let’s not work on that one,� Ron muttered.

At one point, Harry’d finally managed to approach Moody and ask him to teach him a defensive spell quickly. As an extra touch, he said, “We have to keep our eyes open for trouble. I want to be ready when it comes.�

Moody growled a bit, but Harry thought he saw the shade of a grin on the scarred Auror. He leaned in rather close to Harry’s face, the stench of bacon noticeable on his breath. “I know the Weasleys won’t appreciate me teaching anything to you lot just now,� he rumbled “but I’ll tell you this, Boy. No one can catch you if they can’t see you.� He stepped away and gestured toward his outstretched wand. “Fumos Ner,� he grumbled quietly. A small bit of very dark smoke spurted out.

Abruptly, he turned and continued gobbling away without further comment. Harry’s eyes were wide and his mind was spinning with possibilities.

The Weasley parents weren’t likely to catch anyone behaving badly. They rarely left the bedroom with the fireplace. Harry wandered past it on the way to the bathroom a few times. Each pass allowed him the chance to hear the sound of either endless sorrow, or deadly silence. The latter was becoming increasingly common. It wasn’t only Mrs. Weasley shedding her pain, however. The bass tones of a man grieving could often be heard.

Harry and Hermione often had to prepare a couple of meals a day. They would carry the brimming plates in and remove the hefty remains of prior meals. All the while, they tried not to look. Harry wasn’t sure if Hermione was doing it out of politeness, but he knew if he looked, it would surely affect him as deeply as when he overheard their conversation from the fireplace. They dead look in their eyes would likely remind him of Sirius; he didn’t need reminding.

The others couldn’t get more than an hour to themselves to take care of such necessary chores anyway. Ginny searched feverishly for any new spells that could aid her. “Once we know a good enough assortment, we can practice postures. Then, we can practice on each other!�

If the trio showed any discontent, her shrieks could be well heard throughout the house. If her parents heard, they couldn’t have been terribly concerned. Molly and Arthur were as yet only ever spotted when heading to the bathroom.

At night, Harry fell asleep to the sounds of the lapping water in the tub and assumed Mr. Weasley was carefully tending to his wife. It was at once the most pitiable and loving gesture Harry could think of.



A sudden stop brought Harry’s knee hard into the table and his mind out of trance.

“Hogsmeade!� shouted Stan from closer to the front. He seemed to have finally got a good look at one of their faces, because he began to say, “’Ey. Look ‘oo it is, Ernie . . . It’s-“

“-Your head if you don’t shut it now!� Tonks told him as harshly and as quietly as possible as they pushed through to the front.

The Weasleys were ‘indisposed’- as people put it- so Tonks, Kingsley, Lupin and Snape were present to ensure the safe passage of the teenagers. All were covered head-to-toe in robes that barely allowed them to see. Tonks was looking rather plain and ratty- no doubt to avoid attention. Kingsley was a person who naturally dominated a room, so he also was concealed by thick, voluminous robes. The Hogwarts professors faded into the crowd as easily as wisps of smoke.

Once off the bus, they walked briskly through town. They didn’t want to attract attention, so they bent their heads against the wind and made a point of hiding their faces. Still, their tense postures and quick steps were earning them interested gazes. Harry’s nervous tension transferred into a racing heart. He, for some reason, felt afraid without outwardly noticing any danger. His legs itched to run.

He felt strangely relieved when they finally reached the gates, although he was unsure what he had feared. Tonks and Kingsley stopped at the gates while the rest continued on. He felt the eyes of the two left behind, following his hunched body. They took a near-run to the castle. Darkness was creeping over the grounds, and soon, they would lose what little protection daylight offered.

As they approached the immense front door, they saw Dumbledore’s form emerge. He ushered them quickly inside with nods of greeting. With a flick of his wand, the doors closed slightly quicker than usual. A glance at Ron told Harry that his friends were now feeling the pinch of his being so closely protected.

“I took the liberty of sending a hot meal up to your common room. You’ve been excused from any homework due tomorrow, but the following day was the furthest I could push such matters,� he said with a touch of humour. Dumbledore could probably banish homework completely if he felt so inclined.

“So please relax and enjoy the evening to the best of your abilities. Classes will recommence for you all tomorrow. Professor Snape, thank you for your assistance. I know you have several important matters to attend to.�

Snape responded with a simple curt nod and a swing of his cloak. Seconds later, he’d rounded a corner and was gone.

The four began to move past him, but the headmaster caught Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, I’d like to speak with you and Professor Lupin in my office, please.�

He looked at his friends who’d paused to wait for him and motioned them to head up to Gryffindor Tower. They hesitated, but only momentarily, before warily continuing on their way. Harry pursed his lips and stalked off at a brisk pace toward the door to the circular staircase. ‘I just got back!’ he thought ‘Why does he want to bother me now?’

Lupin moved alongside him. “All right, Harry? You were a bit quiet on the Knight Bus.�

“Did you expect me to be giggling and having a jolly time while I was flying about the lower level; and with Snape acting so . . . like Snape? He was just trying to make me expose us.�

“Professor Snape can make you do no such thing. Only you control how you react. Remember that.�

Harry shot him a scathing look. He knew he had to control his emotions, but was tired of people acting like they were something to be turned on and off at a snap.

Dumbledore called out the password and Harry angrily rushed ahead. He really was not in the mood to hear what terrible news awaited him. The only remotely good thing that had happened was when Harry found the dark hallucination spell. Even that brought him back to the raw spot of Sirius’ death.

He burst into Dumbledore’s office only to see Malfoy. He’d frozen when Harry suddenly appeared. He’d obviously been poking around at some of the headmaster’s silver, whirring objects.

“What are you doing here?� asked Harry, somewhat less than civilly.

Draco slid away to the far side of the room- no doubt to distance himself from whatever he’d been fooling with. “I was invited,� he said smoothly.

Professors Lupin and Dumbledore entered the room, and were instantly verbally attacked. “What are you playing at?� he spat. He was not in the mood for whatever childish game of ‘Learning How to Share’ they wanted to force on them.

Remus stiffened. “We will not discuss anything until you calm down, Harry. We don’t appreciate being spoken to in such a manner.�

The headmaster crossed behind his desk and sat.
“Please, sit,� he said heavily, as a couple of spare chairs appeared to accommodate his guests. Lupin diplomatically sat between Harry and his nemesis.

They waited patiently while Harry collected himself. Thankfully, Malfoy knew enough to stay quiet for the time being. Dumbledore’s steepled fingers pressed beneath his jaw. He calmly watched Harry over his fingers.

Finally, Harry grit his teeth and muttered, “Could you please tell me why I’m here and why . . . he’s here . . . Sir?� It sounded more like an order, but the elder two must have known that it was probably the politest question they would get out of him.

So rarely in a rush, Professor Dumbledore paused for a moment. Just when Harry was ready to claw his own eyes out, he spoke.

“I know you have other matters on your mind, so I’ll get straight to business. Mr. Malfoy here will be joining your D.A. class.�

“What? � he shouted. “Sir?� he finished moronically in a high-pitched squeal. He could have sworn he heard Malfoy snicker, but he was sure he’d kill the snake if he looked at him. “He’s a Death Eater in training. Why would he even want to be in my class?�

Remus Lupin, mercifully, appeared to be slightly surprised as well, although he hid it rather well.

“I had hoped you would accept him on your own, however strained a history you two may have endured. I suppose I was wrong.�

Harry snorted and sunk lower into his chair.

“Mr. Malfoy,� he continued, looking reprovingly at the both of them (Malfoy seemed to be enjoying every minute of Harry’s petulance), but returning his gaze to Harry. “Has decided to aid our efforts in the war.�

“Yeah right . . . Sir . . . He’s probably acting as a spy. He has been this entire time!�

“Things change . . .� said Lupin.

“Like what? He’s grown all of a centimetre- if that- and suddenly he’s not evil? He hasn’t changed!�

“Draco Malfoy isn’t evil, Harry,� said Dumbledore, careful not to show his irritation. “He’s suffered a major change in his life.�

Harry scoffed. “He’s never suffered, his family made sure of that.� Out of the corner of his eye, however, he saw the Slytherin stiffen.

“Headmaster? I don’t think he really needs to be told-“

“- He certainly does. You two now have, sadly, some common ground. You’ve both lost your fathers.�

Harry felt an unsettling concoction of anger, vindictiveness, and pity. He ventured a glance at his enemy, unaware of his mouth hanging open. Draco had lost all the colour in his face and was determinedly avoiding Harry’s stare. His stomach clenched as he thought he knew the answer to his next question.

“How?�

“Lucius Malfoy escaped from Diagon Alley a week or so ago. When he returned to Voldemort, without you, he reported what had happened. As we understand it, it was his last chance to capture you. . . . Ineffective Death Eaters are not given unlimited chances . . .�

Malfoy’s nails were scratching the stain off of the wooden arms of his chair. Dumbledore nodded sympathetically at him. Harry had an idea of what had happened some time before, but didn’t waste thought on it. Perhaps he avoided the matter because he knew the truth. In essence, Lucius died because of Harry. He’d expected Malfoy to continue to lead his schoolhouse campaigns against him. He hadn’t expected him to go the opposite way of his father.

“He wishes to assist the Order for his own reasons,� added Dumbledore. It seemed as if he could read Harry’s thoughts. On this occasion, it was annoying.

After a moment, Harry stared his headmaster hard in the eye. “How do you know he can be trusted?� It was the same with Snape. The headmaster was always giving his trust away in neatly wrapped gift boxes to anyone who cared to drop by.

“I trust him.�

Growling loudly, Harry shoved the chair back, leaving it to crash to the floor. He quickly strode to the door, ignoring the sounds of protest from both of his professors. He wrenched the door open without a backward glance and barged his way through the corridors to reach Gryffindor Tower.

“So we have to put up with Draco for every D.A. class?� Ron asked woefully.

“Yes,� said Harry grumpily, tossing a piece of crumpled paper to Ron.

“Well, that’s what he told us, right?� Hermione asked without looking up. She was currently immersed in one of the Dark Arts books from Grimmauld Place’s library. Ginny had gone up to her dormitory for reasons she hadn’t felt the need to share with them.

“How come you don’t seem too bothered by all this?� he squinted at his girlfriend and tossed the paper back to Harry.

She sighed and closed her book. Obviously, this was going to be a rather drawn out conversation. She had hoped this wouldn’t be the case. When Dumbledore had asked to see both Harry and Professor Lupin, she’d connected the dots and was sure the meeting was in reference to the D.A.

“I don’t like the idea of hanging around Malfoy any more than either of you, but I think everyone deserves the opportunity to learn to defend themselves.�

“He manages just fine, in case you don’t remember the incident involving your fingers,� Ron retorted, and caught the paper just before it flew into the fire.

She huffed at him, clearly vexed.

Harry continued his thought process from her statement. “Lupin said I could decide who joins up. If it’s not really my decision, why would he say that?� He caught the paper wad. Harry’s forehead was furrowed. He’d managed to calm down quite a bit once he’d related the incident in Dumbledore’s office to Ron and Hermione, but he was still steaming.

“But I don’t think he intended for you to purposely exclude people, Harry. It’s not like you to do so anyway. Besides, this is the perfect opportunity to really help unify the houses!� she remarked, suppressing her cheer unsuccessfully.

Harry growled. “Like I said, I don’t want to unify the houses if it means breathing the same air as the ferret!�

“And why would he want to learn defense? Just because his dad died . . .� asked Ron.

“His father was murdered, Ron. I imagine he didn’t enjoy being caught up with someone who’d kill him the minute he messed up.�

“Malfoy doesn’t think like that,� Harry muttered.

“Well, Slytherins would do anything to save their skins,� Ron pointed out. This won a silence from the other two, one pregnant with thought.

“What?� Ron looked from Harry to Hermione. “What did I say?�

“You made a good point,� answered Hermione, with a sparkle in her eye. “Thank you.�

Harry rolled his eyes. “So he’s a coward. This is why we have to let him join?�

“No, you are letting him join, because whatever his reasons are, he’s turned against V-Voldemort.� She still had trouble saying his name. “And that,� she assured, “is a very good sign.�

“Well, you can count me out as his duelling partner,� Ron attested.

“Me too. I’d kill him,� warned Harry.

Hermione clicked her tongue. “Well he has to partner with someone.� She slyly avoided any mention of her being Malfoy’s partner.

Harry raised an eyebrow, and chucked the balled up piece of paper at Ron’s head. “You’d better hope there’s another Slytherin joining the D.A. in two day’s time.�


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


“There are transfigured paintings in the castle?� asked Hermione excitedly.

“Yeah. Er . . . I think so anyway. Professor McGonagall said they would have an interesting pattern in the wood grain of the frame. They’re also supposed to have a peculiar sparkle, but I didn’t see it in the plants we transfigured the other day.�

“Oh, I wish I could take that class. I would if I wasn’t so overloaded!� she sighed. “I think it could be a fun way to spend a Saturday; searching for transfigured paintings. They had to be hidden for a reason. Surely anything we find would be ancient and really important.�

“Not a chance, Hermione,� Harry smiled. “Saturdays are for Quidditch.�

“You two can’t have practice this Saturday! You haven’t even had tryouts yet.�

“We will tonight.�

“What? What about homework? You know whatever work that was assigned last week is due tomorrow,� she scolded.

“You’re lucky we didn’t do it last night. Ron went up to everyone who’d signed up for tryouts, asking for them to do it right then, but they refused. He was sore about it, but agreed to delay it until tonight.�

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek. She had her characteristic worried crease between her eyebrows. “I noticed. I hope he doesn’t . . . well, use Quidditch to hide from his feelings.�

Harry grumbled. “Why do girls always want us to talk about feelings? Even if he does get caught up in Quidditch, at least he’s doing something.�

“But he was doing the same thing back at Grimmauld Place! He’s avoiding anything having to do with,� she dropped her voice and whispered. “You-Know-Who. If he keeps going on like this, well, he might just drop our friendship altogether!“

“What? He wouldn’t do that. And how is Quidditch going to ruin our friendship anyway? That makes no sense.�

“Harry, if he isn’t involved with the war, he’ll avoid us when we’re talking about it, or doing anything about it. That has the potential to be a large amount of time. He’ll drift away from us, Harry.� She’d stopped and grabbed the sleeve of his robes. She looked frightened. Harry thought he understood what her real concern was.

“He’s not going to leave me or you. He just has to deal with this in his own way. Even if he didn’t want to be involved in the war anymore, he wouldn’t abandon us for a Quaffle. He’s not that kind of person.�

Hermione looked stumped for words- a rarity, to be sure. In fact, she didn’t speak a word to Harry all throughout Potions. This proved to be beneficial, as even Snape couldn’t dock points for talking. In total, Harry only lost thirty points; ten for having a bad hair day (substandard appearance), fifteen for looking at Snape crossly (being openly disrespectful), and five for what Snape claimed was “staring in a threatening manner�, whatever that meant.

Lunch was a tense affair. Ron excitedly went on and on about Quidditch tryouts, and who would be participating. Hermione kindly held her tongue, but shot desperate glances in Harry’s direction almost continually.

“Er . . . Ron? Can I ask you something?� She looked at his plate instead of his face. He looked at her as if she was sick.

“You never ask to ask.�

“I just . . . uh, was hoping you could pass the pumpkin juice.� That she hadn’t said what she had first intended to was plain to all. He obligingly passed her the flagon of juice and asked, “All right, Hermione?�

“Yep,� she mustered the most fraudulent smile that had graced the castle since Dolores Umbridge. “Thirsty.�

He shook his head and glanced at Harry, who found great interest in his food, and did not look up from it until the end of lunch.

Charms passed just as awkwardly. Ron noticed that something was going on between Hermione and Harry, but wasn’t quite sure what. After several minutes of this he acquired a hard glare, and bluntly refused to look at either of his two friends. Harry didn’t understand why Ron was slowly becoming angrier. Still, all three carried on without a word to one another, but managed to produce strangely strong defensive shields.


--------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Assembled in a line along the North side of the Quidditch pitch were fellow Gryffindors keen on filling the open Chaser positions. Dennis Creevey grinned widely and waved enthusiastically at Colin in the stands. Geoffrey Hooper was there as well, and mildly complaining about nighttime tryouts. There were also two younger girls, a second and a third year, who identified themselves as Ruth Henry and Debbie Price. Ginny looked especially confident. This was due to the fact that her trying out for the position was merely a formality. She had to actually try out in order to move to Chaser.

Harry would have laughed at Ron if he didn’t look so frightening. The truth was that his gait, his stance, and the hard glint in his eye reminded him of Oliver Wood. Harry, on the other hand, posed casually before the line of eager students.

“So if you’re not serious, I suggest you move along. We can’t win the Quidditch Cup this year if we’re not going to have players putting in 110 percent!� He paced along in front of them. It was visibly making young Ruth uncomfortable. Ginny raised an eyebrow at Harry and rolled her eyes.

“Right then,� Harry said amiably. “I’ll introduce the team. Katie Bell, Chaser; Andrew Kirke, Beater; Jack Sloper, Beater.� They each gave a little wave or nod as their name was called.. “I’m Harry Potter, Seeker and Co-captain; and this is Ron Weasley- Keeper and Co-captain.� As Harry mentioned his own name, he noticed a blush creep across Ruth’s face. “We’ll do a bit of throwing practice with the Quaffle, then try each of you out, one at a time.

With that, everyone mounted their brooms and flew into the air. The breeze was refreshing to Harry. Chills crawled up his spine in happiness at being set free from gravity. Set in a staggered pattern, they tossed the Quaffle back and forth. Harry soon realized he hadn’t really had much practice with Ron. As it turned out, he could throw and catch well now, which was quite a difference from the first time Harry practiced with him. Ron chucked the red ball rather hard at Harry, nearly knocking him in the face. Fortunately, he caught it right before it smacked into his nose, and passed it on to Ginny, who sent it to Debbie. Ron’s little sister and Harry shared a look. Ginny raised her eyebrows questioningly, and Harry shrugged ever so slightly.

He was annoyed with Ron’s behavior. Ever since Charms class, he’d been shooting daggers from his eyeballs at Harry. There was a grim, determined set to his jaw. It was quite similar to the expression he’d worn just after Hermione was injured. However, Harry wasn’t about to blow his cool in front of his team when he’d just managed to rejoin it. He felt he had to set a better example- or at least not pick a fight with Ron in front of them.

Ron avoided him the entire rest of the practice. Harry was chasing the Snitch and saw snippets of the performance of those trying out. He was only vaguely searching for the little winged thing, as he wanted to see how the players were performing. The young girls looked positively unsure of themselves and it showed in their lack of playing ability. Geoffrey Hooper had already complained about the cloudy sky, concerned about the possibility of rain. Dennis Creevey did surprisingly well, but Ginny outperformed them all by scoring past Ron, which was becoming quite a feat these days.

Finally, the players landed and sat down in the cool grass. Night had fallen, and thankfully, was free of hovering clouds. Stars winked at them. Everyone was dripping with sweat, and appreciative of the breeze that blew off of the lake.

“Well, Ron and I would like to thank everyone for trying out. Results will be posted tomorrow. Good luck.�

Ron’s jaw seemed to be wired shut. He nudged his head to the side, and began walking toward the other end of the pitch, motioning for Harry to follow. He looked well beyond angry, but confused as well.

“I guess we should decide who’s in,� Ron said stiffly.

“First, I’d like to know why you look like you’ve sucked a lemon. Ron, what’s going on? You haven’t spoken to me or Hermione since lunch.�

“Why should I?� he shouted. “You two, with all your . . . looks! And your . . . your secrets!�

“What? Ron –“

“- No! You fancy Hermione, don’t you? You’ve gone and kissed her, or . . . or told her you to run away with you or something!�

Harry couldn’t resist a wry smile. “Run away with her?� Ron blushed, but Harry continued before Ron could. “There’s nothing going on between Hermione and me –“

“- Then what are you hiding?� he spat.

“She’s worried about you, ok? She’s worried that you’ll give up helping us in the war, and drift away from us . . . from her.�

“She thinks we won’t be together anymore if I don’t fight?� His face fell. He seemed to be thinking for a bit. He shuffled his feet, and swung his arms a little, as if attempting to stir up some reasoning for how he felt.

“I . . . ever since Percy, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to . . . you know, fight. I mean, I’ve already told you that I just . . . don’t think I want to waste my time fighting for everything. Why do I have to help save all of… everybody?� he finished somewhat lamely.

Harry snorted. “Welcome to my world. We just have to. If no one else is going to do it, who would make sure Voldemort pays for what he did? Percy deserves better than that. Everyone does . . .�

“So that’s what you guys were talking about? You thought I might have quit? Just like that?� Ron pried.

“That was almost everything.�

“Almost?�

Harry sighed. “She thinks you’re using Quidditch as a crutch.�

Ron shrugged. “So what if I am? I can’t quit D.A. You won’t let me,� he punched Harry playfully. “If I like playing, and it helps me, where’s the problem?�

He thought Ron made a fair point. “You know, I told her to trust you. I just don’t believe you would ever give up. You’re a better friend than that.�

Ron smiled a little, but stared off into the stands rather than at Harry. It was a slightly uncomfortable moment.

“Well, anyway. I think you can get her off your back by talking about feelings with her.� He performed little air quotes, happy to get the old Ron back.

“Why do girls always want to talk about feelings?� Ron grumbled, wrinkling his nose.

“That’s what I said . . . You actually thought I fancied Hermione? You’ve got to be a touched in the head to believe that!�

The two enthusiastically plopped down on the grass and discussed the merits of the Gryffindors that had tried out for the team. They didn’t notice the pairs of eyes watching over them from afar.

Chapter Thirty



Harry was unusually cheerful the next morning. Ron and Hermione had disappeared the evening before, after the boys had returned from the Quidditch pitch. He was sure they didn’t leave the tower, but wasn’t going to check. After all, he was glad to have nearly everything cleared up between his friends and wasn’t going to throw a wrench into their newly found peace. Knowing how those things usually worked out, Harry would say exactly the wrong thing and begin a massive row once more.

Now they sat before him chatting animatedly at the Gryffindor table. Actually, Hermione was exploring the possibilities of portrait transfiguration in the castle, and was desperately attempting to convince Ron to go ‘treasure hunting’ with her. He refused bluntly, shoveling food carelessly into his mouth, but nudging her affectionately none-the-less.

Off in the distance, Harry spotted Ginny strolling pleasantly toward him. No, she’s not coming toward me. She is coming for breakfast, he corrected himself. It was difficult to ignore the aimed grin as she spotted her friends, though.

As she moved closer, he began to hear the same hypnotic tune that had cemented itself in Harry’s brain. He’d been finding himself whistling the eerie melody most frequently when he let his mind wander. It had been occurring sporadically over the past week or more. The song began to pulse loudly as she neared, creating a chilling crescendo. Then, just as she arrived, it faded into a whisper and rested in his mind, again dormant.

“W-What are you so happy about?� he asked, recovering from the strange surge of seemingly unrelated music.

“Well, how could I resist a simple smile when you’ve got that large one on your face?� she smirked and sat down, grabbing a breakfast tart.

“Really?�

“Well, no . . . But, I did see your aura from across the room.� Ginny bit into her food, waiting for the response that was written in his cleaved-together eyebrows.

“I don’t think I like the thought of you reading whenever you can, and from across the room even!�

She punched him gently on the shoulder. “That’s too bad. It’s here to stay, Potter.�

Harry looked up to see Ron smirking at him cheekily. "What?"



"Nothing! Can't a man watch his sister flirt with his best mate in peace?�

Simultaneously, Hermione slapped him and Ginny tossed a muffin at his head. Harry merely sat back and laughed. He hadn't thought of the banter he shared with Ginny as flirting. He wasn't sure how he felt about the flirting. With a crooked grin plastered on his face, he decided it couldn't have been a wholly bad thing. Ginny had actually managed to keep the rising pink constrained to her neck.

"And you are no man!" giggled Hermione.

"That's right he isn't!" joked Dean, passing by.

All four paused in blank curiosity. Dean hadn't managed a full conversation with either Ron or Harry since classes began. The most he'd offered was a grunt in reply to an open-ended question. Harry didn't blame him for being rather upset with the situation arising around Ginny. He actually expected much worse over the course of the year, and was pleasantly surprised that he only responded to the breakup with comparatively mild antagonism.

Their fellow Gryffindor flashed them an uncomfortable smile. "All right, Ginny?"

She cocked her head slightly and answered, "I'm okay, Dean. You?"

"Good, thanks." He moved on, then, sitting next to Seamus halfway down the table. Seamus seemed to be rather happy at the rising comfort levels, as well.

"Well, that was unexpected . . ." quipped Harry.

"Yes. Some other unexpected news crossed my path this morning as well. Harry, another Slytherin wants to join the D.A. class!" Hermione cheerily said.

Ron pulled a sour face. "Is that supposed to be good news?"

"Actually, I think it's great news. That means we won't have to pair off with him. I think we might kill him," replied Ginny, matter-of-factly.

"How did you know about Malfoy? You'd already gone to bed by the time Harry told us about that," asked Ron.

Hermione snickered. "You honestly think Ginny and I never talk away from you two, don't you?"

"What do you talk about?" prodded Harry in good humor.



"Oh, everything. You know," Hermione responded evasively, and shared a conspiratorial smile with Ginny.

"About how unmanly you are, of course" laughed Ginny while dodging a pelted muffin.

They set about eating for several minutes. Hermione, however, visibly fell deeply into thought. It wasn't really cause for concern until her brow furrowed in a characteristically concerned manner.

"All right, Hermione?"

"I was just thinking . . . Harry, you should know something." She managed to sufficiently capture his attention.

"The Slytherin. She -well- she can be rather . . . abrasive."

"So? Aren't they all little gits?"

"So, I want you to be prepared for her when she comes around. We can't go around biting people's heads off when we're trying to unite."

"Hermione, you are the only one trying to unite," snorted Ron.

"Well, Dumbledore and the Sorting Hat think it's important, why shouldn't I?" she snapped.

Harry could see her anger flooding to the surface. He was truly enjoying the momentary happiness that seemed to be occurring between everyone. Keen on keeping the peace, Harry cut off the downward turn of the conversation. "Unite. We will. Don't fight." He promptly dove into his food.

When he came up for air, he noticed all three staring mirthfully at him, close to giggling fits. "What?"

Ginny rustled his hair. "You really need to learn to let them go at it when they will. Neither of us can stop it. It's how they express their love," she said pointedly.

Ron blushed crimson and Hermione's mouth fell open. "L- Whu? I never . . . I didn't say . . ."

Ginny broke out in a wide grin. "See you all in D.A. Bye Harry. Goodbye lovebirds!" She jovially flounced out of the Great Hall, leaving complete embarrassment in her wake; Ron and Hermione for themselves and Harry for his two comrades.



"We should get going to class," prompted Harry. Ron and Hermione readily agreed, and moved off to their separate morning classes without another mention of the 'L' word.


Harry found himself in Care of Magical Creatures class, wishing he'd had more time for homework. He'd managed to scrape together a poor essay on the uses of Grodporter blood and slime. He turned it in with a regretful air; not because he particularly cared about homework, but because he didn't want to disappoint Hagrid. Thankfully, his professor gave him the sympathetic nod of reassurance he was looking for.

After what felt like hours of collecting slime from the disgusting Grodporter, Harry nearly collapsed when Hagrid joyfully announced their project for the spring.

"Come Springtime, I've arranged to have a baby dragon brough' 'ere for dem'nstration!"

Noisy grumblings reverberated off the towering trees of the nearby Forbidden Forest. "I don' know what yer all upset abou'. It'll be safe enough. It's on'y a baby, after all."

Harry was well acquainted with Hagrid's fascination with dragons. Even as babies, they could be quite large, as they tended to grow quickly. This was aside from the fact that even the youngest dragons were capable of setting objects aflame. He kept from rolling his eyes for Hagrid's sake. His professor didn't need more protests than he already attracted from unhappy students. Often, Harry wished the chronic complainers would find a different career choice if they were so conflicted about dangerous creatures.Do they really expect to only handle soft and cuddly magical creatures, he wondered, annoyed.

In Defense Against the Dark Arts, they continued the study of Mirage Charms. Delving into the darker possibilities of such a charm was the aim of Professor Lupin.

"While Mirage charms intend to create discomfort, a different variety is meant to illicit pure fear. Does anyone know how to tell the difference?"

An expected scoff came from the back of the room as Michael Corner raised his hand in answer.

"I'll bet Malfoy knows a thing or two about Dark Mirage charms . . ." Harry muttered under his breath to Ron, who only nodded. Making any noise would invite questions from Professor Lupin, so the two opted to stay silent.

"Mr. Malfoy? Do you have an answer?" Lupin put him on the spot for his rudeness.

Everyone in the room expressed the same surprise. No one displayed as much discomfort as Malfoy, who’d bolted upright from his insolent recline. "What? No . . . Er, no professor.�

“Five points from Slytherin.� The class snickered. “Mr. Corner, do you have an answer?�

“Yes, Professor. They are distinguishable by their color, which ranges from a smog color to a dark black color.�

“Five points to Ravenclaw. Now, why would someone walk into the mist where it is so easily spotted?�

Several other students raised their hands, to Harry’s surprise. Apparently, the N.E.W.T. level Defense Against the Dark Arts students had been keeping up on their studies. Then Harry remembered that he’d missed a class or two last week, and they were probably told to read ahead.

“Yes, Ms. Chang?�

Harry whipped his head around so quickly, his neck screamed in protest. He momentarily ignored it to look at his former crush. I forgot she was in this class. She’d noticed his reflexive twist and shyly smiled before returning her attention to Professor Lupin. “Sometimes it is put in such a place that a person cannot continue on their way without passing through the mist.�

“Correct you are, Ms. Chang. Five more points to Ravenclaw. Are there any other reasons?�

Parvati took up the task of answering. “Usually, the wizard will use it on an unsuspecting passerby at night, when the mist is less visible.�

“Five to Gryffindor.�

“Erm, Professor?� began Parvati. “What’s the point in scaring people? As in, why would some dark wizard go through the effort of producing the charm, if it’s some equivalent of a mean joke?�

“That’s a very good question, Ms. Patil,� he declined his head with a slight smile. “Learning the more harmless version of the Mirage charm was my method of easing you all into the Dark Mirage charm. In a way, they are like Boggarts. The difference between them is that Boggarts embody your worst fears, but the Dark Mirage will take you into a small world where you are trapped with your fear. Many a wizard has lost his wits while in a mirage and could not return.�

Mouths lay agape on many students. On others, their eyes pierced through Lupin as though he could make the statement untrue.


�What a load of Hinkypunk piss!� Malfoy blurted from the back of the room.



“Excuse us, Mr. Malfoy? Is there something you wished to say to the class?� Professor Lupin demanded. Harry couldn’t understand how Lupin could remain so calm.

“Yes. No one has ever gotten stuck in one of those. They’re just mirages! They scare you, and then they’re over with. They are merely parlor tricks.�

Lupin seemed to mull a thought over for a moment. He looked slightly angry only momentarily before a cheery, shallow smile flashed upon his face. “Well, then, Mr. Malfoy. You shall be our first tester next class.� The professor percolated toward the back of the classroom where Draco reclined with his feet on the back of another student’s chair. The younger looked uneasy, but frowned at the intrusion of his personal space. “For the rest of the class, everyone will need to write a short personal essay on what will be in the Dark Mirage once you find yourself inside.�

The class groaned in a most polite manner and Lupin spoke over them. “Each one of you must know exactly what will be in there. I do not want to have to explain to the headmaster that one of my students became stuck in a mirage, because they failed to study themselves. Especially Mr. Malfoy, here.� He raised an eyebrow at the young Slytherin, but not in an unsympathetic manner. It was obvious to Harry that Lupin was referring to Lucius’ death.

Without another word, the class spent their time writing essays on their darkest fears.


“I’m surprised that Lupin was as harsh as he was,� remarked Hermione after lunch, while walking toward the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. “I mean . . . his father died.�

“All he’s going to do is make him go first tomorrow. It’s not like he got detention; not that he shouldn’t. He should get one just for being the slimy . . .� Ron continued to describe.

Hermione crinkled her forehead. “Still . . . It’s just not like him . . .�

Upon entering the room, Harry saw that nearly the whole group had already arrived and had moved the classroom furniture aside. In addition, present was a generally malevolent Draco. He’d been leaning against a wall, but smirked maliciously when he saw Ron, Harry and Hermione enter. Before Harry could bother to register Hermione’s annoyed glance around the room, he noticed Remus Lupin gesturing for him to enter his office.

“How’s your day been, Harry?� he smiled benignly.



He was suspicious of his teacher’s motives, however, cocked an eyebrow and answered. “Fine, thanks.�

“All right. I will leave my office door open and keep my ears on alert for any trouble. Draco Malfoy may not be pleasant, but he has the potential to develop as a person. We simply cannot deny him that; it’s his right.�

Harry grit his teeth. “Why would you say it was up to me who’s in this class, if it wasn’t my call?�

“It is your call, but there needs to be a good reason to bar someone from learning how to defend themselves. You’re a good person. I don’t think you will have this dilemma with anyone else.� With that, he pat Mr. Potter on the back. “I believe you have a class to teach, Professor,� he winked.

When Harry grudgingly faced his class, he registered the nervous look on Hermione’s face. He strode directly toward her and Ron. “What?�

“Well . . . I don’t see that McKee . . .�

“McKee?� Ron wrinkled his nose.

“The Slytherin?� Harry emitted a small roar. “How am I supposed to restrain myself enough to not actually . . . rip him from limb to limb?� His eyes flashed. He felt someone shorter than he pushing him back to allow her space to converse.

“I’ll do it,� Ginny stated lightly.

“I don’t think so!� bellowed Ron, attracting unneeded attention from the closest surrounding students.

“You can’t control your anger any better than we can,� said Harry.

“Well, you lot have more history with him than I do. Besides, everyone paired up as soon as they noticed Malfoy in here. We're the only ones left, and I'm the best choice." She paused as a thought crossed her mind. "Don't you all think I can handle him? You thought I was doing well enough at King's Cross." She poked her chin out defiantly, daring them to argue.

He was disarmed and had his hands tied behind his back, with a Ministry official standing right there, Harry thought, but decided not to say. Whether he wished to admit it or not, Ginny made him a little uneasy where there was a threat for her to use magic on someone. He didn't really understand why, but it was well-known in their tiny group that Ginny was quite a powerful witch. Harry fought to bite his tongue- which she took as a 'yes, you can duel Draco.'

She turned to Ron -her last road block on the way to the wonderful world of pairing up with Draco. They stared each other down for a moment, before he answered. "Fine!" he spat. "Hermione, you're my partner."

They didn't notice Draco sauntering up behind them. "Well, then. The Weasley girl is my partner. Fantastic." It rolled off his tongue, dripping with sarcasm. The four spun around. In false chivalry, he put his arm out in welcome. "I welcome the chance to rid the world of one more Weasley-�

Within seconds, a series of events occurred. Draco shot a hex at Ginny. She blocked it and jarred him with an upper-cut to the jaw (there was a certain pleasure that came with the thud of her fist). Malfoy's next spell went wayward with the impact and blew Ron across the room. Hermione reacted with a Reducto curse, throwing Draco aside. Harry held his wand steadily on Draco, lest he attempt to harm anyone else. Then, no one in the room could move; no one except Professor Lupin, who was positively livid.

Speaking was apparently an option, however, because Harry began to do so. "Professor Lupin, I-"

Remus put his hand up to silence him and he did so. "I heard everything Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy, while I understand that you feel the need to test the authority of Mr. Potter, I strongly recommend you cease for your own good. Understand that I will not tolerate blatant combativeness in my classroom!" He looked at Harry, Hermione, Ron and Ginny with the same dissatisfaction, much to their chagrin. "Twenty-five points each from all five of you! Mr. Malfoy, in addition, you have detention with me this evening. And should even one of you duel out of anger in my classroom one more time, you will regret it. Continue this class in a civilized manner, or I will have no choice but to disband it."

All mouths hung open in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Harry could feel the disgruntlement from his fellow -uninvolved- Gryffindors. He understood their feelings; after all, they'd just lost their house one hundred points. It was quite a burden after only a week of classes.

"Right then. Well . . . I suppose now's a good time to start class," Harry announced as Professor Lupin moved back into his office. Draco stalked to the back of the classroom with a bruised jaw. Harry was pleased despite the loss of points, however, because he was sure Malfoy had a large purple bruise growing on his arm. Never go near the business end of Hermione's wand when she's angry, he thought.

"To the new members, welcome back. I'm sorry I had to cancel the rest of the classes last week. Some things . . . happened. Anyway, to everyone else, things have changed a bit. I think having a ceremony is unnecessary. We're busy enough as it is," he said with a slight smile. "I have some house points to earn back, I think." This received a giggle or two. Hermione scoffed in the background.

"I think we all know you're not going to be earning many points in classes or anything, Harry," Ron replied cheekily. He hadn't gotten too hurt from Malfoy's spell; it had ricocheted and charred the wall instead.

"I think it might be a good idea to practice conjuring Patroni again," interrupted Hermione. "It was the last thing we learned, and some people need a little refresher."

Draco was grumbling in the back of the room, making snide comments after everything they said. They wisely chose to ignore it, as everyone else appeared to be doing the same. Harry didn't care to tell Draco directly how to conjure a Patronus, so he reiterated the method to the whole classroom. "Hermione, here, will help the new D.A. members learn, and recap other things you need to practice."

Draco refused to do anything for nearly 20 minutes. Then, when he stopped attempting to look aloof, he flicked his wand half-heartedly where he thought no one could see. Harry moved through the classroom, stopping here and there to help someone. Cho kept trying to catch his eye. He avoided her continually, along with Malfoy's corner. Luna -who he hadn't seen much since the incident in the Room of Requirement- neither ignored him nor appealed for his attention. She conjured her Patronus -a mountain goat- easily enough and spent the rest of her time making it float around her airily. He was relieved to have at least settled matters between himself and Luna.

Michael Corner kept shooting daggers at Harry whenever he came remotely near. Harry couldn't understand why, until he remembered that after he and Ginny broke up, he went to console Cho for Ravenclaw's loss. They must be going together, he thought. But then, why is she asking about 'us’? Suddenly, Harry had a great distaste in his mouth. He decided to end this once and for all. He walked over to where Cho and Michael were playing with their Patroni.

"Hey Cho," he said directly with an unsure smile, his stomach rolling as delight lit her face. "Did Ravenclaw have tryouts yet?"

"Yes," she said in a curious tone. "Why?" Michael glared at him with the look of death.

"Ah, well, we've managed to have ours the other day, and we've got a good team. I wanted to say good luck on beating us this year," he teased. "You all nearly beat us last year. You know . . . I'm, er, glad Michael could give you a congratulations. I'm sorry I couldn't."

Michael raised his eyebrows and Cho's face fell as she took the subtle hint. "Yeah . . . er . . . thanks."

Harry roamed off to a more comfortable situation, convinced he'd made a clear point to Cho. He'd had enough experience with her to know that he didn't want to go with her. While she was pretty enough, she cried too much and got jealous far too easily. Human Hosepipe.

He heard the click of the door and looked to see who'd left, only to find that someone entered instead. A quick look over the robes affirmed that it was the Slytherin Hermione had mentioned. The newcomer glided directly toward Harry, and stopped just in front of him. "Hello," she said plainly. "I'm McKee."

Harry felt Hermione appear at his side. "Nice to see you again, McKee," she said in a business-like tone. There was something familiar about her, but he couldn't put his finger on it.

"Do all Slytherins feel the need to show up late all the time?" he snarled.

"I had matters to clear up. It took a while. Now I'm here and the rest doesn't matter. Ah . . ." she said, infinitely interested as she caught sight of Malfoy, who'd frozen upon returning the look. His face had become more pasty than usual. Immediately, Harry decided she may not be so bad.

"Welcome, McKee," he smirked and held out his hand.

She shook it once for formality's sake, and let her gaze drift over occasionally while Hermione notified her of what everyone was working on. Harry glanced at Hermione's small group when she referenced it, and saw Lupin attempting to casually pay attention to McKee from his office. Harry grinned in his direction, implying that he understood the interesting scenario displayed before them.

To Harry's delight, McKee seemed to keep Malfoy from acting up. He didn't seem to think of her as an authority figure, but he behaved as if he was in great discomfort in her presence. That he hated her was evident from the pink in his cheeks to the flashing of his eyes. The new girl perked Harry's curiosity.

"So you like her?" Ginny asked in a flat tone.

"Huh? No, Ginny . . . What? Why would you ask that?" Harry was immensely uncomfortable.

"No reason. Class is over. I have to go," she replied accusatorily. With a swing of her bag over her shoulder, she stalked out of the room.

Ron saw her departure and moved toward his friend. "What did you say to her?" he accosted.

"What? Nothing. She came out of nowhere and asked if I liked McKee. It was weird. Is she angry, really?"

"Well, she uses that tone when someone's let her down."



"How did I let her down?"

Ron shrugged. "Maybe she just can't see you with a Slytherin."

For all his occasional psychic moments, Ron was usually useless when it came to girls. They, with Hermione, exited the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom; right behind McKee and Malfoy talking with deep, grumbling, hateful voices.


Harry needed the spare time to work on his previously due assignments, but found a note upon entering his dormitory. It requested him to go to Dumbledore's office for a lesson. He knew it was Occlumency. Even with Dumbledore teaching him instead of Snape, he wasn't sure if he liked the idea of anyone diving into his mind, free to look at whatever they wished. Still, he sighed and trudged his way to the headmaster's office, muttered the password, and reluctantly climbed the winding staircase.

Dumbledore sat behind his desk patiently, and nodded in greeting. "Hello Harry. I trust you are doing well." He flicked his wand and the door closed. "I'm sure you are aware that this shall be an Occlumency lesson."

"Yes, Sir," he responded dully. He was still angry at Dumbledore, but lately it had begun to feel more like a dull anger. It melted into something like a general dislike. He sank into the chair.

Dumbledore sighed. "I've made mistakes, Harry. However, every human does; it's in our nature. By all means, be angry at me for as long as you must, but I ask that you do not hold on to this forever. It helps to forgive, however one can."

"Ok," Harry muttered.

"Now, has Professor Snape taught you how to clear your mind?"

Harry's brow furrowed. "No, he just told me to do it."

The headmaster appeared to ponder that for a moment. "Well, that is how we should begin! Have you heard of meditation?"

"Isn't it something Muggles do . . . the New Age Muggles?"

Dumbledore was tickled by the response. "Yes, but don't let that stop you. It's very effective for clearing the mind."

They spent at least an hour 'clearing their minds.' Dumbledore then proceeded with delicately attempting to sift through his memories. It was easy to block, because the power behind it was weak. Harry was unsuccessful at blocking everything, however. When he became frustrated, Professor Dumbledore told him that in order to be more effective, he had to block only thoughts that would provide an answer to the Legilimens' question. They set about practicing clearing his mind once more. Harry was told to meditate before sleep every night.

Yeah right. Wish me luck on that one.


Harry had finally managed to catch up on his homework. Hermione was ecstatic that he was even bothering. He and Ron rolled their eyes every time she spoke. Of course, she'd finished her homework the minute she could, which happened to be a few days ago. She continued to chat buoyantly until Ron shouted. "We can't do our homework with you blabbering away, Hermione!"

She glared at him balefully, and decided to only talk to Harry, much to his irritation. "Uh, Harry, have you even noticed that Ginny is angry with you?"

"What?" he huffed. "Oh, is that why she's sitting at that table?"

"You should go talk to her," she pressed.

"Will you let me finish my homework if I do?"

"Yes," she sat back happily.

Harry didn't particularly like the idea of confronting Ginny. She was very likely to rip his arm off, judging by her temper. Still, he reluctantly shuffled over to her table and sat at the chair next to her. She ignored him until he did his imitation of Umbridge's cough. He thought it would make her smile, but instead, she said "What do you want?"

"I want to know why you're in a rage."

"I'm not in a rage."

"Yes you are. You've got that vein sticking out right there . . .� He poked her vein and she slapped his hand away.

"I swear, it's like you fancy every girl in school! First it's Cho, now it's that McKee girl. What kind of stupid name is that, anyway?" She threw her quill on the table.

"Uh, what? I told you I don't like her."

"I can see auras, Harry. I know."



"No you don't! Quit assuming everything. I think it's brilliant that she shuts Malfoy up, is all. Maybe you just don't know all the colors' meanings yet, or something. Why do you care who I like anyway?" Deep inside, he knew the answer to the question, but persisted in feigning ignorance.

She stared at him, thinking and breathing deeply. She seemed to be venturing into unknown territory when she suggested, "Let me look into your mind . . ."

"What?"

"It's the only sure way."

Harry was incredibly uncomfortable. He didn't want to have a regular brain invader, but he didn't want to continue a silly row with her. "All right."

She faced only one hand toward him and he met it in the same fashion. She glared piercingly into his eyes, squinted for a moment, and then pulled away abruptly. "Okay. I have to go to bed." She grabbed her parchment, books and quill and hurried up to her dormitory.

It was well past midnight when he was finally able to drag himself up to bed. He was quite tired and disinclined to meditate. He almost had decided to just skip it when he heard the groggy voice of Dean. "'Ey Harry? I just want'd to say it's all right by me if you fancy Ginny . . . G'night," and he dropped back onto his pillow, his breathing deepening almost immediately.

Harry rolled his eyes and groaned. Now I have to meditate!

Ron and Harry strolled to class, taking their time, as they’d finished breakfast exceptionally early. They passed the open windows of the castle, enjoying the cool breeze on a day that provided no cloud cover. They’d just discussed the possibility of skiving off lessons for the whole day and then the likely ensuing wrath of their studious friend, when the conversation took a turn.

“So how about that McKee?�

“What about her?�

“Abrasive? She’s got the personality of a rotten log!�

Harry laughed. “Well, yes. But did you see how Malfoy acted around her? It was great! I think he hates her more than us. At least he should be too occupied from now on to come around annoying us.�

“You think so? I was starting to like the idea of cursing him every day. It would serve him – and his family – right.� Ron’s tone had suddenly taken on a grating edge. Harry couldn’t blame him. Malfoy’s dad had permanently extinguished Percy’s life. Harry was just relieved that the Weasleys didn’t know exactly how he’d died.

Trying to veer the conversation away from one that would make Ron’s sparks grow into a blaze, Harry spoke. “I sort of like watching someone else do it for a change.�

Ron looked at him with uncertainty. “I suppose we don’t have to do all of the fighting?� He was alluding to their conversation back at Grimmauld Place several days ago.

“No; not all the time,� he reassured. A mischievous grin lit the features of the dark-haired boy. “Let’s see what she’s got, first.�

Ron’s cheeks bubbled up as well. “That could mean a fair bit of fun. ‘Ey, Hermione hates her, you know,� he mentioned, looking sidelong at Harry.

“What? I thought she was pushing for unification. That doesn’t sound like her.�

Shrugging, Ron answered. “Just passing along information, mate. Did you see how stiff she was when she was talking to her? Looked like she had a . . . er . . . like she was stiff.�

Harry shook his head in humor while Ron continued. “Well, after D.A. and everyone finished classes, they were in the common room talking about her. Hermione sort of got a bit shirty and said, ‘Well, she could pick up a better attitude on her way in.’�

“Right, so she’s a snot. Can we stop gossiping now?� Harry asked, giving Ron a bit of a push.

“Seeing as how we’re at Transfiguration,� Ron answered, throwing in a mock sigh. “I suppose we’d better stop chatting. We’ll be sure to talk about our hair later, though.�

Harry rolled his eyes. Ron could be such a dunce, sometimes. He had to admit, however, that Ron seemed to be coming into his own. He was comfortable, relaxed, and occasionally said intentionally funny lines; a sure improvement. He was even showing pieces of his brothers’ wit.

They strolled into Transfiguration and took their seats. Professor McGonagall stood up behind her desk in the front of her classroom. “Settle in, settle in. We have much to cover today and no time to waste. We will be continuing our study of portrait transfiguration. Now, we’ve already covered how to transfigure objects into portraits, and how to form an educated guess as to what its original form may be. While some portraits require only a simple incantation to retransfigure, others have more powerful spells in place to protect it in such an event.�

A thought clicked somewhere in Harry’s head about the portrait of Sirius’ mum. As immediately as it came, it vanished.

A note appeared in front of Harry. “What if the Fat Lady is really a fat boar?�

Harry snorted- a little more loudly than he intended.

Professor McGonagall whirled around to face his just as he managed to quickly hide the paper. Her eyes narrowed. “Do I need to stress the importance of this information, or will you start paying attention on your own?� She fixed a severe frown upon faces utterly incapable of appearing free of emotion. “Five points from Gryffindor,� she stated.

The Gryffindors in the room audibly groaned. Harry elbowed Ron as they slipped on looks of polite embarrassment.



Hermione was her pleasant self in Potions. While waiting for the inevitable – but unfortunate – entrance of their professor, she’d casually asked Harry if he’d been using any of his birthday gifts. He showed her the ring he’d never taken off.

Without delay, she spun it around his finger and seemed to be looking for something. She must have found it on the underside, because she gazed intently at it, seeming as if she was trying to cement it into her brain. He tried to ignore her inquisitiveness, glancing around the classroom instead. Why is it always so dismal in here? His gaze fell upon a wretched blond-haired boy, who glared back at him. He leaned back, kicking his feet onto the desk and settled into his foul mood. Malfoy seemed to be avoiding Harry’s gaze and he wondered why. For some reason, the Slytherin reminded Harry of something.

“Something odd’s been happening, too.� He said it tentatively. Somehow, it felt like he was about to share something very private.

“What’s that?� she looked up, eyeing his forehead and forgetting the ring. “Your scar?�

“No,� he grunted. “That’s been going on for ages.� His scar prickled in remembrance of the torturous dream he’s suffered the night before. “Uh, well . . . a song’s been . . . sort of stuck in my head.�

“Oh, is that all?� she snickered a little while pulling out her books and parchment.

“No. It’s not just a song. It’s not like anything I’ve heard. It’s . . . old.�

“Old?� That heightened her attention.

“It sort of sounds like . . . like Fawkes’ song.� His nose wrinkles. That was a connection that came out of thin air. It made sense, now that he’d said it.

Hermione looked as if she were rating the importance of that thought when the classroom door whipped open. Snape breezed in with a particularly violent air. They silently shared their suspicion of impending doom and attempted to look as studious as possible. They’ll be in the common room with torches if I lose Gryffindor any more points . . . today.



When they met up with Ron for Charms, he prodded her with his finger to no avail. “Er, Harry? What did you do to our bubbly ball of sunshine, here?� There was no mistaking the sarcasm.

Ron had seemed to be slightly subdued since the morning. While he was still cracking jokes, he didn’t seem to be really laughing. They turned out to sound like uncomfortable hacking to Harry, but no one else seemed to know the difference. His words had a sharp edge as well. While Harry felt awkward in his presence, he decided Ron just needed time.

He did make a fair point, though. Hermione had been deep in thought ever since the beginning of Potions. He thought she was beginning to form a permanent group of wrinkles in her forehead. They walked behind her to the Charms classroom and sat down next to her. “Well, I told her about a song I heard . . .� he said evasively.

“You know her brain will pop if you try to stuff it full of lyrics too, right?�

She came out of her stupor just in time to hear the comment, and smacked him on the shoulder. “My brain will not pop. I was considering a career change.�

“What? But you’ve already made a decision!� Ron complained as they entered the Charms classroom and took their seats.

She breathed in slowly, still rolling the idea around in her brain; looking at it from all angles. “I just don’t think my heart’s in healing.�

“Where is it then?� Ron asked uneasily. He seemed to be becoming increasingly prickly on the subject of change. “Don’t tell me you want to be an Auror.�

“Hey! What’s wrong with that?� Harry took offense.

“You two will run off . . . and become Aurors together and . . . fight the rest of your lives together and . . . and I won’t,� he finished lamely.

Hermione rested her hand on Ron’s forearm and looked back and forth between her two friends. “I don’t want to be an Auror. I think I’m going to become a Translator.�

“As in the Muggle language kind, or what you’re doing with the parchment?� inquired Harry, trying not to notice the subtle emotional intimacy between the other two.

“More of what I’m doing with the parchment, but I wouldn’t just do that. I could work on Hieroglyphics; anything! Even Sanskrit! Gringotts could always use a Translator for curse breaking as well.� Her eyes danced while she spoke and she positively exuded electricity.

Harry chortled at her exuberance. “It sounds like a good idea, Hermione.�

“You’ll be like Bill,� Ron said simply.

“Yes. I’m going to jot up a letter to him this evening, and,� she continued while looking at Ron, “It’s pretty tame compared to being an Auror.�

Not a red hair on his head moved as he racked his brain, looking for memories of Bill writing home abut danger. He apparently found none, because his eyes regained a luster.

“What about your extra classes, then?� Harry asked.

“I can drop them. I can also take up Transfiguration!�

"The gang's together again!" Ron wore the goofiest grin yet.

"So you two think it's a good idea?" She unconsciously mimicked her boyfriend's enthusiasm.

"Hem, Hem." Professor Flitwick gave an Umbridge-like cough. He was a cheeky one. No one had seen him come in due to his unfortunate lack in height. Still, Harry thought it must work to his advantage in many ways.

When he gained the class's attention, he began the lesson. "While shielding charms are important, we must press on. We have much to cover before . . . before your exams. Today, we will be working with fire. As you know, there are a few ways to make it painless if you are ever caught in one. It also helps those who used floo powder incorrectly," he tittered. "Today we will learn how to make a protective pocket of freezing air to surround our persons in such as event. Who can tell me why it shouldn't be used in the presence of Muggles?"



Harry found himself catching up on his homework - once again - during his free time. Now that he was in N.E.W.T. level classes, the professors were handing out essay assignments liberally. Harry was feeling overwhelmed and was offended that his classes should be so difficult in only the second week.

He and Ron - sitting across the table from one another - shared the occasional grunt and grumble in response to particularly complicated paragraphs. When they would get bored, they'd charms wads of paper to hurl themselves at the other party, and then pretend they had no idea who did it. It was rather childish, but a welcome distraction.

Hermione galloped in - with Ginny in tow - just after they managed to finish yet another Potions essay. "Oh! You're doing homework!" she chirped.

"Not by choice, believe me."

"We wanted to go outside for a bit and enjoy the sun, but Hagrid just put blotches of muck all over the grounds to ‘Get ri’ o’ the dir’y ones.’"

"It's a mine field," Harry assured her. "Unfortunately-"

"- What a waste."

Ron and Harry grinned at their continued shared sentiment.

As the girls took the remaining seats, Harry asked, "So what's going on?"

"She's got her way once again," said Ginny wryly.

To the inquisitive looks, Hermione replied, "McGonagall let me into Transfiguration, and said I could drop my spare classes I was taking for healing! I'm going to be a Translator!" Her hair bounced as if it, too, was excited. Harry stared at her, perched on the edge of her chair, and was about to tease her a bit when she interrupted. "Right then. Oh, there's so much to do!" she squealed. "Harry, the song you were telling me about; is it the same one you whistle all the time?"

"I whistle?"

"Only all the time," said Ron.

"Oh? I guess so, then."

"Good! You and Ginny go do your aura bit. I need to talk to Ron." Hermione obviously wanted a private conversation, which was fine. Harry didn't much appreciate being shoved off to the corner when he was here first. Somehow, the fact that she called it the 'aura bit' was irritating as well. They stood as an automatic reaction to Hermione doing so. Ginny spoke before Harry could voice his annoyance, though.

"Uh, what?" She looked surprised. "That's why you dragged me up here? I was in the middle of . . . something!"

This statement won a sharp look from both Ron and Harry- though for different reasons.

Pulling his gaze back to Hermione, he said, "I'm not sure doing our 'aura bit' is a good idea. The last time . . ."

"We have to know what's going on with V-Voldemort, Harry. We can't pass up the opportunity to gain more knowledge of his plans. We have a great resource in you both. Ignorance is never an option. Go!" It was the most hurried attempt at an inspirational speech Harry had ever heard. Hermione placed one hand on each of their backs and gave them a good shove to get them going.

Throwing scowls over their shoulders, they reluctantly moved over to the window in the common room, leaned against the wall and slid to the floor.

"Look at them! Forcing us away so they can whisper!" she complained.

Harry only shrugged and looked at the wooden floorboards. For a moment, he caught himself thinking about how hard the house elves must have worked to keep the floor shiny. His eyes returned to Ginny.

"So, er . . . What were you doing when Hermione nicked you?"

"Why do you want to know?" she asked defensively.

"No reason." He looked back at the floor. It seems like she's always coming at me.

"Why?" she insisted.

"Nothing." He tried desperately to make his face unreadable. After a moment of silence, he ventured, "Should we do a reading or something?" He was instantly sorry he mentioned it, because suddenly, her eyes bulged and he could hear her take a sharp breath inward.

"What if it happens again?"

"It won't . . ."

"How do you know?" Her voice dropped. "What if we caused it?" A deep V grew between her eyebrows.

"We didn't."

"How do you know?" She turned to face him in her urgency.

"I just know!" he hissed, uncomfortable with her new position.

She bit her lip in a strange gesture of courage. "All right. Let's do it then."

They assumed their customary positions for readings and closed their eyes without reserve. Harry could feel the eyes of his house mates on him, but he tried to ignore them. Fortunately, this time, he was prepared with the direction he wished to take Ginny. He brought her to the memory of when Voldemort rose out of the large cauldron. Again, through his eyes they traveled and floated carefully into Voldemort’s mind. He felt Ginny right behind him, and it offered a great comfort to his twisting insides. Huge tomes and ancient scripts flashed with surprising fury. Hundreds went by when Harry realized what Lord Voldemort was searching for. He turned slowly to look back at Ginny – to tell her, it would seem – but all he could see was a radiant white light, stretching its tendrils out in the darkness. He squinted his eyes. I’m sure it’s Ginny. He inched toward the light. When he got close enough, he stuck in a fingertip to test. He felt the light become denser, and begin to solidify around his flesh. A slight panic began to overtake him, as he didn’t want to be stuck with his finger in a strange light in Voldemort’s brain. Acting on instinct alone, he stepped fully into the bright mass, the light engulfing him in a wave.

No. It can’t be. I’m in Ginny’s mind?

He saw the library appear around him. A sandy-haired boy he vaguely recognized as Stephen Cornfoot was smiling stupidly. “So . . . Ginny. D’you want to study with me . . . tonight, maybe?�

Harry heard Ginny’s voice emanating from everywhere. “Oh. I’m . . . I’m not sure. Maybe . . .�

Hermione’s voice abruptly interrupted their private moment. “Ginny, I need you to come with me?�

“Now?� Harry could feel aggravation coursing through the air.

“Yes, now!�

Too suddenly, Harry was thrust back into his own mind. He opened his eyes to an obviously livid Ginny, and decided to rage right back at her.

“How dare you!� She leaned slightly forward and looked as if she was ready to pounce. The familiar vein was throbbing as well.

“Stephen Cornfoot? Corny Cornfoot? What do you want with him?� he shouted, much louder than he intended to, and puffing up a bit.

“Well I didn’t ask you to look!�

“I wasn’t trying to look!�

“Then why did you?�

Her hand gestures were becoming more unwieldy every time she yelled. Harry knew everyone in the common room was staring with rapt attention. He didn’t care, however. He wasn’t even quite sure why he was so angry; he just knew he didn’t care to have a short, angry girl getting mad at him every damn day.

“Because . . . because! Stephen? What do you want with him?�

“He asked me to study!�

“So, you could have said no!�

“Why should I?� Her fists were balled up. She could be quite intimidating when her fury was expelled, with her cutting words and obvious magical capabilities. As they were standing, the purely human part of Harry felt an advantage in his height. Ginny, apparently, was totally unaware of it.

“B-because!� Oh, he hated stuttering at a moment like this!

“Because why, Harry?�

The immediate words caught in his throat. He looked at Ron and Hermione. The latter urged him with an almost imperceptible nod. She and Ron shared an unspoken thought.

“Oy! You think you lot could mind your own bloody business?� Ron shouted as delicately as he was capable. Uncomfortable and ashamed, nearly everyone pretended to return to their previous activities.

Harry glared blankly at the room in general. He was thinking too many thoughts, and was incapable of comprehending any of it.

Ginny lightly placed a hand on his arm. It wasn’t a grand gesture; the touched arms loads of times. Somehow, though, Harry felt like he’d swallowed acid that was now rising through his esophagus. It burned. His arm burned where she touched him.

He looked down at her, annoyed that it had come to this.

“Because why, Harry?� she asked gently and without a hint of her former malice.

He shifted his glare to the floor, his eyes out of focus. He spoke so low, it was only a breath of a whisper. “B-because.� He inhaled slowly and meekly glanced up. There’s no way out of this. She knows . . . “Because I fancy you.�

He refused to look at her. He felt her hand slip down to his, squeezing his fingers. “Me too, Harry,� she said sweetly.

Without thinking of sparing her feelings, he shook off her hand, gruffly turned and stalked out of the common room.

Ginny’s tears of relief grew into torrents of disappointment spilling down her cheeks. With an echoing shriek dug from the bottom of her soul, she wrenched up the nearby vase full of Autumn blooms and sent it crashing into the pained wall. It shattered appealingly as Hermione rushed over. Ginny sank amid the shards, sobbing her frustration on her friend’s tense shoulder.

“Just say something,� Harry groaned.

He’d been the talk of the school the past few days. Every time he turned a corner, he heard updates on his very personal dilemma with Ginny. It was frustrating to hear, “No, he hasn’t apologized yet. What a prince. She should smack him a good one and throw him away,� from a first year.

Stares followed him wherever he went, but nothing compared to the tense atmosphere he shared with his best friends. Ron, while able to hold a civil conversation, was no longer his humorous self. He didn’t even laugh when Peeves was toying with Snape by poking him repeatedly in the hallways. He only snorted and shuffled away, preoccupied.

Hermione, disturbingly, was holding her tongue. Harry wasn’t quite sure how she managed. It must have been difficult, judging by the pleading so evident in her eyes. They glassed over whenever he looked her way, her brow furrowing. His whine brought that familiar look to her face. She was positively twitching with the urge to speak.

He sighed. “I can’t take the silence. Will you put down your forks and . . . say . . . anything?�

Immediately, their plates clanged with the infliction of silverware. Harry could tell Hermione’s mind was full of thoughts just begging to be let loose. Instead, she looked at Ron, conceding the right to speak first.

Harry’s friend rested his forearms parallel on the table - seemingly to steady and clear his thoughts. His cheeks were a bit blotchy. That’s not a very good sign. “Right, so . . .� he sighed. His fingers danced. Harry prepared himself for a blunt attack. After wriggling his fingers a bit more, Hermione put a reassuring hand on his elbow.

“Just answer me this,� he began with a stiff jaw. “You . . . left . . . because you didn’t want her to get hurt, orsomebloodythinglikethat, right?�

Harry adjusted in his seat and narrowed his eyes. Ron was angry, and he could see that, but did that give him a right to go and ask a personal question like that? Still, he recognized the fact that he was the one that encouraged this pleasant little discussion. “Yes,� he snipped.

“Then how does leaving her and dumping her off make sense? She fought with us! She’s a target no matter what!� his voice cracked. “But you! You’re adding to it all! You are making it worse!�

Harry glanced around nervously. Fortunately, everyone was quite involved in their own discussions. Ron was also, thankfully, keeping his voice down. “I thought you didn’t want her with anyone anyway!� he hissed. “What do you care?�

“I don’t want her with anyone,� he growled. “I wish she was a boy, but she’s not! I don’t fancy the idea of her having a boyfriend, but at least I can trust you. Or I used to think that anyway.�

“What? How can you not trust me?�

“She has scars, Harry-“ he hissed.

“-What?�

“All over her legs! Because of you, she’s got loads of scars on her!�

“What?�

Hermione finally interrupted. “You heard about the broken vase, right?�

“From people in the hallways,� he muttered. He was doing his best to maintain his composure, but the sudden verbal onslaught damaged his nerves. He was shaking in anger in spite of himself.

“The glass . . . She’s got a few cuts. Oh! They were a couple of small ones,� she replied quickly to the look of concern on his face.

“Still scars . . .� came the grumble.

Hermione elbowed Ron gently at this statement. When she looked up again, Harry had a deep ‘v’ in his forehead that spoke of a simmering mixture of guilt and anger.

“And you?� Harry asked the girl before him. Might as well get it over with.

He’d expected a flood, but apparently, Ron managed to quell some of the waters. “I agree with him. You need to talk to her - really talk. No stomping out on her – and apologize. Then she might forgive you, and you two can get a move on,� she finished succinctly.

“Whu? Get a ‘move on’ with what?�

“You know exactly what that means-“

“-I’m not sure if-“

“You’d better be! That’s my sister!� Ron spouted harshly. “If you do this to her again-“

“Harry, do you want to?� Hermione asked flatly. Her eyes revealed a touch of the anger that flashed brightly in Ron’s eyes.

He stared at the table, battering the grain and hoping it took the brunt of his confusing tumult. Do I? I hadn’t really thought about it. She made me tell her about liking her. What . . . I d-don’t know how to be a boyfriend!�

By their comical expressions, he could tell he’d said the latter portion aloud. A flush crept up his neck.

Ron glared. Hermione looked down at the table and clicked her tongue. “Well, whatever decision you come to,� she emphasized the word ‘decision’, “You’d better decide soon, because Dean seems quite keen on making her his girlfriend again.�

“What?�

“What!�

Four more eyes shot along the table, catching sight of Dean’s arm snaked around Ginny’s shoulders. Harry growled loudly, earning a few curious stares. Standing quickly, he smacked the underside of the table with his knee. The pain was forgotten in his heated stride toward Ginny.

He resisted the urge to rip Dean’s hopeful fingers from her shoulder. Instead, he tried to tap her without touching Dean’s romantically-inclined hand and ended up tapping her atop her head. Her whole body stiffened. They know I’m here. They’re just ignoring me. . Those on the opposite side of the table were unsuccessfully trying to avoid looking at him, with a concoction of awe and humor in their expressions.

“Ginny?� He tried to sound pleasant.

She slowly turned and shrugged off Dan’s arm, much to Harry’s inner elation. She looked up coldly, much to his dismay. “What do you want, Harry?� Her voice caught on his name.

“Er . . . Can we talk?� He was distracted by the realization that she was saddened by what had happened. A tiny part of him had winced.

“Ginny, remember what he-“

Harry nearly snarled at Dean’s attempt to thwart his reconciliation efforts.

“It’s fine,� she cooed to him. Harry backed up while she stood and casually smoothed her robes.

Oh, not the music again. It was invading his mind again, the highest notes ringing in his brain. She followed behind him with her nose in the air. The song was overwhelming his ability to think as the two strode out of the Great Hall. He didn’t notice Ginny’s conspiratorial tap on Hermione’s shoulder as she passed by.



“Can you believe that? I am not hypocritical! SPEW is a noble organization. Everyone deserves to be free! That’s far different than that . . . Muggle oppression he believes in!�

Harry, Ron and Ginny shared an annoyed glance. Ron normally attempted to humor her SPEW rants, but today’s was especially cumbersome, and he collapsed into old habits under the pressure. With Harry and Ginny sharing more time together over the past several weeks (with Ginny’s brother watching closely whenever possible), Ron spent quite a lot of time trying to play the supportive role for Hermione – as she was the one he ended up spending his time with. When everyone managed to be in the same space, Ron fell into his customary role in their friendship dynamic.

Unfortunately for all who had contact with Hermione throughout the day, the late owl carrying Hermione’s copy of the Daily Prophet was sending her bad news. The wizard paper reported on a bill currently attempting to be passed in the Ministry that restricted the killing of house elves without lodging a prior complaint. They’d avoided Hermione’s wrath by rushing off to class. Her overzealous anger had not cooled over the day, and it was waiting for her friends as soon as they entered the common room.

What’s more was that she began spouting off about a confrontation with Malfoy where she didn’t hex him. Ron and Harry lost interest after that bit of information, but Ginny’s eyebrow was permanently etched near her hairline. Fortunately, the details of the encounter were never really given, as was Hermione’s custom.

“I don’t get why you didn’t just curse him and be done with it.� Ron dribbled a bit of pumpkin juice down the front of his shirt. He grinned, embarrassed but unbothered.

She scoffed. “Well! That’s just so . . . juvenile. We were debating!�

“And since when is Malfoy not juvenile?� asked Ginny, pressing the end of her quill to her lips. When did she start doing that? Harry became pleasantly distracted from the conversation while looking at her, but was brought harshly back to reality when Hermione continued.

Hermione huffed. “You all just don’t understand!� She spotted her friends’ neglected books. “Do your homework!� she ordered frustratingly.

“Tomorrow’s Quidditch,� Ron informed her, simply.

Harry jumped on the wagon. “We’ll need to keep our minds in the game.�

“No! What you need is to . . . do a . . . reading or something!�

Quietly, Ginny said, “We did one last night.� She waited for the question leading to the news she would share.

“And?� After a pause, “What did you find out?�

“Well, they were planning a raid on Hogsmeade when we go there in February,� Harry informed.

“Did you tell Dumbledore?� Hermione worried.

“Yes. He didn’t really tell us what he was going to do, but he said he’d ‘think on the matter’.�

Hermione sat in her seat, leaning forward, tapping her middle finger and thumb together apprehensively. Her nervous habits had the effect of making the rest of them feel uncomfortable. An indistinct charge emanated from her person. She pursed the corner of her mouth and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?�

Damage control. “You had already gone to bed.� He glanced quickly at Ginny for confirmation. “We didn’t want to wake you, because we know how important it is to you to get enough sleep for classes and all . . .�

Oh, that was terrible. I need to get better at this. Ginny, thankfully, took over for her companion. “We thought about what you would suggest, and just did exactly what you would have told us to do. Thank you.�

Ron and Harry wrinkled their noses. Huh? was their common thought. How did Ginny manage to not make sense, and yet, make sense enough to calm Hermione down?

“You’re welcome,� Hermione replied stiffly. She’d calmed down slightly from her previous rant and recent rebuff. Her fingers were still tapping incessantly and unconsciously. Harry chose to ignore it, and instead contemplated the precarious position he’d put himself in during a fit of jealousy.

He and Ginny were ‘officially together’, as it was said in the hallways. On the plus end, their readings had become quick and easy. Harry would smoothly slip in and out of Voldemort’s mind, using Ginny as a steady base. She was always a comforting presence during the sessions. As the process became simpler, they ‘read’ more often. They’d managed to uncover only portions of two plots; the latter being one of them. Most of the time, however, they kept seeing random bits of books and parchment.

The music was a constant in his life now. It was so quiet; Harry didn’t even notice it was there. Occasionally, it would flare up. It was usually during the most awkward moments with Ginny. It had become a common event for all three to shout at him for whistling, with Harry being unaware he was doing any such thing.

Harry’s reminiscing was disrupted by Hermione, who’d apparently given up on studying.

Ron looked at her suspiciously, pausing in his game of Exploding Snap. “If this is about Malfoy-“

“-It’s not about Malfoy. It’s just so . . . wrong that no one ever had to have a reason to just get rid of a . . .� She paused, and her eyes squinted in thought. She turned, painfully slowly, to fix Ron with a piercing stare. He blushed, feeling utterly uncomfortable and doomed.

“Ron? What happened to Kreacher?�

His mouth fell open just to slam shut again.

“He’s gone,� Ginny spoke quietly.

“How is he gone?�

“Mr. Weasley said it was a heart attack,� answered Harry. He knew he was lied to, but was perfectly happy not knowing the truth. It was good he didn’t have to see the traitorous creature when he’d arrived at Grimmauld Place. Hermione, however, seemed to be of a different opinion.

“A heart attack? You must be joking! He didn’t show any signs of heart problems! I know you all hated him! It’s not true. What happened to him?� she badgered. She stood on her feet, hovering threateningly over the other three.

Harry was becoming irate with the subject, however, and was unaffected by her looming. Who told me Sirius was in the Department of Mysteries? Who betrayed his master? “It’s not like it was a great loss!�

“He was a living being. That’s what made him important! He was so mistreated-“

“-Don’t go on about that again.�

“What happened?�

“I wasn’t there! How in bloody hell would I know?� shouted Ron in defense.

“You know!� she rounded upon Ron. “I know you do! The both of you do!� She swished her head at Ginny.

She stared through the red strands hanging in front of her face. “He’s dead.� Her voice was the only calm one.

“How. Did. He. Die?� she enunciated gratingly.

“Maybe . . . Maybe a werewolf killed him!� was Ron’s coded answer. To anyone else, it would have sounded like a joke. No one had a clue as to who they were fighting about, so they tried to ignore what had escalated into a shouting match.

Hermione’s eyes grew wide and the whites surrounding her irises seemed to nearly overwhelm the moist surface. Her lower jaw trembled with a fury uncontained. Her fingers rolled neatly into themselves, surely cutting her palm. Her breath came in short gasps.

“No . . . No . . .� seemed to be all she could say without falling into greater tremors. Ron attempted to comfort her, but she threw him off. Hermione sank into her chair, bringing her knees up, shrinking into herself. There was only silence as the three watched Hermione’s back and thoughts shuddered with fear, disappointment, and undiluted rage.

From her tiny cocoon, they heard mumblings of “How could,� “Demon,� and “Defenseless.� Minutes later, she lifted her face. Her eyes were raw-looking and rimmed with inflamed red, but there was no hint of a tear. She labored in her breathing and fixed them all in a cold glare.

“Murderer!� she shrieked, and launched herself off the chair.

Too quickly, Hermione ran out of the common room with the other three on her heels.

“Hermione, stop! Let me explain!� shouted Ron fruitlessly and more than once.

Her rage could not be quelled long enough for her to pause in the relentless beating of her shoes against the floor. Her hair billowed out behind her like an inverted umbrella and her sobs could clearly be heard over the wheezing and huffing of Harry, Ron and Ginny. She was flying on her adrenaline until she reached the Defense against the Dark Arts door. She twisted the handle and realized it was locked. Standing back, she shouted, “Alohamora!� while pointing her wand at the door imperiously. The lock released in a loud thunk and she kicked the door to force it open more quickly.

“Hermione! We don’t even know he’s in th-“ began Harry as he entered the classroom behind her. He paused when he spotted the forlorn Lupin standing just outside his office door.

“How dare you!� she growled. “You are a cowardly murderer! Taking whosever life you please!� Her hands were balled into tight, apple-like balls and angry tears showered her cheeks in salty streams. The three stood dumbfounded behind her. “Kreacher made a mistake! He didn’t deserve to die, yet you went off and named yourself executioner. You’re a vile, monstrous-“

“Enough!� said Lupin sternly. His face was pasty as he called over several chairs for them. “Take a seat.�

“I don’t want to sit with the likes of you!�

“Before you judge my actions, allow me to tell you my side . . . or at least tell you what really happened.�

“Ron already told me,� she glared defiantly, despite the fact that she was speaking to a professor.

“No one knows the whole story. Now sit, please. You may shout at me as much as you wish to when – and only when – I am finished.�

Hermione sat, shaking and glowering, and seemed to focus a great amount of effort on keeping her bottom plastered to her chair. Ron sat next to her. Ginny and Harry took their seats, sharing a look of mutual dread and a reassuring squeeze of their clasped hands, which they soon released. They hadn’t yet reached a level of comfort in their precarious togetherness.

Lupin sat down cumbrously. He was physically burdened with the heaviness of his thoughts. He avoided Hermione’s eyes when he cleared his throat to speak, opting to gaze out of the black windows as if wishing for escape.

“After I ensured the imprisonment of the captured Death Eaters, I went to St. Mungo’s . . . to see you four, and Luna and Neville, of course, along with the hurt Order members. You were . . . your minds and bodies were broken. I couldn’t . . . I couldn’t take it. So I left. God, I left. I walked down the alleys and backstreets of London aimlessly. I didn’t see or hear anything; my head felt as if it was caving in upon itself. I couldn’t process. Sirius . . . he tore at my insides. I could imagine him gone. I kept remembering all the times he’d said he was invincible, and would live forever. I remembered James a-and Lily. They weren’t meant to go. We were the Marauders. And Peter . . .� Remus’ head was burrowed into his raspy hands, matching the occasional crack in his voice. Harry could barely stand it. He struggled to keep a straight, impassive face. Ginny, however, allowed her tears to fall silently.

“And then I was there. I thought of the address and stormed inside. The same thing I’d pushed deep down all those years rose out of me, and I stopped thinking. I went inside. He stood there in the entryway with this disgusting, gleeful grin. And it tore out of me . . . and it . . .and I took him, and I . . . pulled . . . and he came apart.
And the whole time, I was sure I heard him laughing. That disgusting squeak of a voice. So I kept doing it . . . My face was covered with it . . .with him. I couldn’t stop. My nails had him beneath them. The portrait was screaming and I didn’t care. And . . . when i-it was on the floor . . . I stomped and k-kicked it.� Remus Lupin’s jaw trembled as he rubbed his temple continually. He stared transfixed at the floor. His eyes were wide and moist, but not a tear drop fell.

Ginny stood and walked over in front of her Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. At the tail end of a sigh, she wrapped her arms around his neck in solemn embrace until the racking fear and pain subsided. She kissed his forehead tenderly when he picked up his head. He looked back at her with unseeing eyes when a shudder crept down his spine.

She turned to return to her seat, and seemed to take in the silent shock hanging so heavily over them. Harry’s face was sunken and confused. He felt a strange concoction of residual hatred and pity. She sat down next to him, waiting for him to ask something, or say anything. He did neither, so she took his face in her hands and turned it toward her. With a deep ‘v’ between her eyes, she whispered, “It’s done.�

“Hermione?� Lupin looked at her sadly when she shivered upon eye contact.

She stood and backed away slowly, shaking her head indistinctly. Utmost pain was infused into every movement. She gasped and ran from the room.

“I’m sure you are aware, Harry, that you’ve improved considerably since we first began our lessons,� said the headmaster one dismal day at the end of October. “Your time has got progressively shorter. You also show restraint much earlier.�

Harry sat silently, and waited for Dumbledore to continue. When he didn’t, Harry spoke. “Yes, but how long will it take for me to be done?�

“Done? You will never be done. One must practice continually; honing their skill. However, your lessons with me will end when you can throw off the Legilimens curse with ease.�

“And what if I never reach that point, Professor?� Harry had been suffering from the deep concern that he was much too stupid to ever learn Occlumency. He was plagued by self doubt with every trudging step he took toward the headmaster’s office several nights a week.

Albus Dumbledore’s eyes seemed to stare through him for a moment before the bearded man spoke. “It is imperative that you learn to close your mind. Possession from afar is still a concern, and could potentially be very dangerous. On the other hand, I have no doubt that you can and will learn, because you must. That said,� he began, “if you didn’t learn, I would set Peeves on you.�

Harry chortled at this.

“Legilimens!� Dumbledore shouted unexpectedly.

The young Gryffindor was thrown into torrential flashes of his own thoughts. Ginny’s face came up several times, causing his innards to seize up uncomfortably. Then, however, Hermione moved to the forefront of his thoughts and became a running theme. Angry Hermione. Melancholy Hermione. Perturbed Hermione. A dawning realization jerked him into a blinding light, and suddenly felt as if he was watching people through a cloud.

“Potter would be incentive!� burst a man in black.

“We cannot risk his life to lure him out of hiding,� said an elderly man.

“It’s worth it!� came another shout from the first.

Without warning, Harry was once again in his own body, staring through slightly dirty glasses. Beads of sweat trickled and tickled his temples. A dread seated itself in his chest. “Who said that, Professor?� he forced out tensely.

Albus looked back at his as if he were a foreign entity. Harry was irritated at the blank slate that was his face. Why does he always hide what he’s thinking?

“The lesson is over. You may return to your dormitory. I have much to do here.� Dumbledore hobbled around the large desk to meet his chair. He seated himself ponderously, and his hand propped his forehead.

Harry felt slighted. “But Professor!�

Fawkes squawked loudly, piercing the air as the door seemed to open on its own accord. He was rather taken aback at the clear message being sent. Somehow, he felt stupid for getting mad at a bird, so he spun on his heel and stalked back to Gryffindor tower, each step laden with preoccupation.



“Oh my gosh, Harry! That’s wonderful!� squealed Hermione.

Harry felt a heat on the back of his neck. “So someone in the Order wants to dangle me out in front of someone – probably Voldemort – and you think it’s wonderful? �

“But you saw into Dumbledore’s mind!� beamed Ginny. “That’s got to be difficult.�

“Well, I know I did, but I didn’t mean to like when I . . . like last time,� he said pointedly at Ginny, who smiled gently.

“What turned the Occlumency around?� Hermione brought the subject back.

“I don’t quite remember . . . Something . . .� and realization and concern washed over his features. “Hermione?�

She glanced up from where she was staring intently at a chair leg. It looked as if charcoal had been smeared in the deep creases beneath her eyes. “What?�

“You’ve been . . . er . . . studying more than usual, right?�

“Yes, and what is your point?� she snarled. “We’re in our N.E.W.T. years. Some of us have to score well! Just because you don’t care . . .�

The three were stunned at her vehement outburst. “Hermione, we study too . . . and I don’t think he was having a go at you about it . . . You weren’t, right?� Ron asked, turning to Harry.

“No!� He thought it might be better to bring up Hermione’s obsessive studying later. He pulled a chair out at the study table where the others were sitting, and settled on the chair. He noted that the constant tune was once again raising its own volume when he accidentally pushed his leg up against another before the other was quickly withdrawn. He looked up to see Ginny blush, and he stirred with interest. Yet, he wanted to at least get an idea for why Hermione was so bothered lately. Attempting to do that directly might have cost him a limb, though, so he proceeded with caution. “Erm . . . So, have you got any more of the parchment translated?�

“I’ve been a bit sidetracked lately,� she said warily. “But I was hoping I could take a look at your ring again.�

“My wha-? Yeah, sure.� Harry had a sore time of twisting and coaxing the ring from his finger. He was sure it had been slightly loose when he first put it on. Finally, he handed it to Hermione, who spun it around to locate the mysterious symbol. Upon spotting it, she sketched it on the corner of her notes.

“D’you think it means something?� inquired Ron quietly.

It was clear from her scathing look that she had a retort for her boyfriend, but upon seeing the genuine interest on his face, she relaxed. “It looks almost like a rune I saw once.�

As they listened to the scratched bemoaning the ink’s establishment on parchment, Ginny chimed up. “Quidditch tomorrow! We should go to bed.�

She, Harry and Ron exchanged looks of excitement and anxiety, but they didn’t see a frown punctuating Hermione’s face.

Ginny had all but skipped to her dormitory when Ron pulled Harry aside. “D-do you think you could keep quiet if I invite Hermione to sleep in my bed tonight?� Harry’s eyes widened and his eyebrows disappeared beneath his hair. Ron continued, “No! Not like that. It’s just . . . look at her . . . She looks a bit like a mad woman.�

“And you think you can change that?�

Ron squirmed and scowled with Harry’s snickering. “I just . . . maybe if I was there . . .�

Then, Harry knew exactly what his friend meant, and worked furiously to repress chuckles rising from his stomach. “You mean you want to cuddle with her?� he mused, dropping his voice.

The red-head blushed in response. “Look, if you’re going to act like that about it – “

Harry waved the complaint away. “I won’t tell anyone. Go ahead.�

Ron dashed off to talk to his girlfriend as Harry headed up to his bed. He was grateful for a plush pillow on which to rest his head. Tomorrow would be a trying day; he could feel it in his bones.



As soon as his eyes opened, Harry’s innards launched themselves into his throat. He thought that by his sixth year, he’d be capable of eating a scrap of breakfast on a Quidditch day; no such luck.

Contrary to his intentions in going to bed early, he’d slept fitfully. He’d begun dreaming of ancient tomes and searching endlessly for an answer he didn’t know the question to. Shocked at the cool temperature when he pushed down his comforter, he leapt out of his bed after ripping the hangings apart hastily.

Ron grumbled nearby in response to his audible shivering and reminded Harry that Hermione was likely in the room. Sure that she wouldn’t be keen on seeing his undergarments, he yanked on clothing and briskly rubbed his arms as he headed toward the Great Hall.

Sunlight blazed into groggy eyes once he entered the spacious room. He scanned the room and spotted a rather large lion’s head resting atop a blond-haired Ravenclaw. She spun around. Argh! She saw me! He searched desperately for some distraction; some way to escape what was sure to be an embarrassing moment, due to the monstrosity on her head. It was lucky for him that she tended to take her time meandering toward him. Suddenly, he spotted Lupin at the Professor’s Table. Then guilt began to gnaw at him. She helped in the Department of Mysteries, and when . . . and that one night –“

“Roar!� The hat proclaimed its proximity.

Harry took the lion’s announcement as a cue to walk – as fast as he could inconspicuously do so – toward Lupin. The daylight fell on his face in a manner that tugged at Harry’s memory. It was nearly the exact same pattern the moon played on his skin the night he told them about Kreacher’s death. The glare hit his own eyes as he neared, and remembered his visions of Hermione when he was bombarded in Dumbledore’s office. There’s no one else to tell about Hermione.

“Hello, Harry,� the Defense against the Dark Arts professor smiled gently. “You’re sure to do a top-notch job today.�

While he’d been surprised by Lupin’s confession, he did not think less of him; in fact, he was somewhat awed. “Er . . . I guess. Erm, Professor? Could I talk to you for a minute?�

The familiar crease graced his forehead. “Of course. Come with me.� They stepped out of the way into the Entry Hall. “Is everything all right?�

I can’t believe I’m tattling. “It’s Hermione. She’s obsessed with homework,� Harry said in a confidential rush.

Remus Lupin chuckled. “Good one.�

“She looks like hell. I don’t think she’s sleeping . . . and she hasn’t laughed or . . . or done . . . anything, really . . . in ages.�

“I see,� he replied in a more serious tone. “Has she told you about anything that may be bothering her?�

Harry screwed up his face. “No . . . not lately. But – wait! – that night? When you told us? She was already angry.�

“What about?�

“I can’t remember . . . something about a house elf bill. And, come to think of it, she had some kind of row with Malfoy.�

“Were any hexes or curses thrown?�

“I don’t think so, which is odd.�

“Hm,� he thought for a moment. “Well, thank you for letting me know, Harry. I’ll try to talk to her.�

When Harry re-entered the Great Hall, he found Ginny, Ron and Hermione already there. He flushed inwardly; sure Hermione had seen him talking to Lupin and just as acutely knew the conversation was about her. Yet, as he neared, ready to evacuate should she turn her fierce temper upon him, he found her smiling sleepily at him.

Argh! Why did I have to tell Professor Lupin? She’s finally ok, and now he’s going to dredge up the past! He took his place at the table, staring blankly at his empty plate. No. Still not hungry.

“It’s where food goes, Harry!� beamed Ginny.

He turned a false glare on her. “And why are you so cheerful? Be careful, or people might not think you’re serious about the game.�

Ron cut in. “She’s mad! She doesn’t get nervous before games.�

“Yes I do . . .� she mumbled unconvincingly.

“Must we always talk about Quidditch?� Hermione grumbled with a foul look on her face. So much for happy Hermione.

Ron was flabbergasted. “But it’s game day! Against Slytherin! You hate Slytherin, too!�

“I don’t hate Slytherin,� she sighed disconsolately. “It’s doesn’t help with house unity. It doesn’t help our cause.� Her eyes rested on some unspecified spot near the Slytherin table. While Ron’s face was pinched in confusion, Ginny’s eyes slowly widened with understanding after squinting a moment. Harry felt the sudden inclination to lift her slack jaw. “I mean, what’s the point of it . . . of all of it? It doesn’t matter . . .�

“It does matter, and it’s not meant to bring anyone together!� Ron shouted a bit too loudly, attracting many stares in the process.

“What’s the point, then, Ron?� she hissed. Harry and Ginny leaned back in an attempt to physically remove themselves from the argument. Hermione had never shown much interest in the sport. Harry wasn’t quite sure why they were arguing, though. They had always known Ron loved Quidditch and Hermione . . . well . . . didn’t.

“Victory! And to have fun and get a bit of exercise.�

Hermione snorted. “Exercise?�

“Well – well maybe it’s all I’ve got!� Ron was red in the face, but paled when Hermione thrust herself to a stand, throwing her shoulders back.

“And what about me?� she glared angrily, pressing her finger into her chest.

“What about you?�

“Exactly!� she screeched, picking up her half-eaten egg and shucking it at Ron. Yolk splattered across his shoulder.

“Yuck!� His face crunched up as Ginny broke out in giggles despite the heated air. Hermione had already stalked halfway out of the Great Hall when Ron gathered the coherency to yell, “Bloody great, Hermione!�

Much to his dismay and embarrassment, the entire Slytherin table was in hysterics. Harry, however, was watching Hermione. She’d stopped quite suddenly and exchanged a glower with Malfoy. They took an otherwise unseen moment to indulge in their mutual hatred before Hermione’s shoes echoed her departure amid a chorus of giggles.



Harry was pacing the pitch high above the other players. Malfoy was directly opposite him, pretending to be looking for the Snitch, but really watching Harry intently for signs of movement. Really, following a person was much easier than following a tiny ball.

� Oh! Bad luck Weasley! Another ten for Slytherin! � resounded through the stands after the clang signaling a goal. Harry groaned, but stopped midway. He thought he saw something toward the South end. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Malfoy stiffen. His tactic would undoubtedly be to merely stop Harry from getting the Snitch for a while. The game had been going on for hours, and for all their effort, the Gryffindors were down by thirty points. It wasn’t the offense, but the goal-keeping that was lacking. Ron wasn’t performing his best; his fight with Hermione was most certainly the cause.

There! Harry spotted it and bent low, furiously chasing the winged ball on his broom. Malfoy was nearly beside him, following his every turn. It darted upward, forcing Harry to fly up and over in a lip that churned his stomach. Somewhere below, another clang sounded, but it barely registered in his mind. Malfoy slammed hard into his shoulder, pushing him off track and gaining the lead. Harry pushed his broom to go more quickly. So close . . .

They leveled, and Harry could almost feel his fingers brush a wing when suddenly, it wasn’t there any more. A flash of a sinister face. A halo of long, blond hair. Hatred gleamed from the depths of the empty eye sockets, black as night. Harry recoiled and floated backward as a scream pierced his eardrum. Then it came again and again, striking like a threatened snake.

Harry pulled his gloved hands over his ears and simultaneously spotted the flutter of silk and a shimmer of gold. There! Something shouted within him and with a short burst of speed, he found the tiny Snitch fluttering contentedly in his hand.



The sun seared into his eyes as he stepped back outside. With a high-pitched squeal, there was a bundle of red hair and robes in his arms.

“Hey Ginny. Good game,� he grinned.

“Yeah!� she breathed. “I’ve decided to wear my robes for a while, as a personal sort of celebration. Want to go for a walk?�

“Sure,� he said while taking her arm in his elbow.

“Being a gentleman, are you?� She raised an eyebrow.

“Well, that. But it also makes it easy for me to throw you in the lake, you see. Aren’t you a bit sweaty under there?�

She only shrugged and tweaked a smile. “Good job on getting the Snitch. No offense, but you were taking forever!�

Harry scoffed. “Why don’t you just grab the Snitch then, if it’s so easy?�

“Oh, stop . . . What,� she began apprehensively, “happened up there?�

“Ah, don’t look so worried. I thought you wouldn’t be all that fussed if something happened to Malfoy.�

“Well, not really . . . Still, he was screaming like that still when they were taking him to Madam Pomphrey.�

Harry watched their feet, kicking slowly right, then left. He was contemplating accidentally (on purpose) stepping on her foot, until she elbowed him gently. “I suppose a face appeared mid-air.�

“A face?� she questioned disbelievingly.

“I don’t know. Maybe there are sky ghosts like how there are castle ghosts.�

“Why did you not scream, and he went off like a banshee?�

It was Harry’s turn to shrug. “I wasn’t really thinking on it. I barely saw it anyway. It was there for only a second.�

“Oh . . .�

There was an amiable moment of silence. “You did pretty well, too.�

“You think so?�

“Someone had to stop Slytherin from beating us.�

Ginny shook her head. “Ron didn’t do so well.�

“No.�

“He was thinking about his row with Hermione.�

“Probably.�

“It’s about time. He really needs to pay more attention to her.�

“He does! We’re around her all the time!�

“That doesn’t mean anything,� she responded quietly. “She’s not happy.�

“Why are you telling me all this?�

“Because she’s our friend!�

“So? If Ron – “

“It’s not just Ron! She’s lonely and she needs us. Can’t you see?�

“It’s impossible for her to be lonely. She’s surrounded by people – “

“It’s not impossible. How thick can you be?�

“I don’t think that’s why she’s upset!�

“Then why, Sherlock?�

“She . . . Sherlock?� he nearly laughed.

Ginny’s ears blushed. “Dad made me read about him last summer.�

Harry stared, bemused, for just a moment.

“Harry?� she prodded.

“Can we talk about this later? Just for a while, I want to just . . . you know.�

She blew a red strand out of her face before replying. “Yes . . . I guess so.�

They soon approached an outcrop of rock. She slipped her hand down his forearm, intertwining her fingers with his. Harry suddenly felt as if there were feathers on the back of his neck. Still, he followed her lead and propped himself on the jutting rock. They rested in affable silence, the air tickling their arms as it whisked past them on its way to other lands.

Ginny cleared her throat and Harry watched her fingers fuss with one another. “Erm, Harry?�

“Yeah?�

Her finger was tapping an opposite nail. “Is there something wrong . . . with us, I mean?�

Harry’s stomach dropped. Why do girls always want to talk about feelings? “Er, no?�

“No, what I mean is . . . why haven’t you kissed me?�

“What?� he grunted stupidly. This was not a conversation he was keen on having . . . ever. He recovered enough to say, “I have!�

Ginny rolled her eyes behind the red veil that hid her face. “On the cheek . . .�

“That counts!� Harry wasn’t quite sure why he was angry. All he did know was that he’d been attacked a few times so far, and his girlfriend seemed to think he was doing everything wrong today. “What’s wrong with that, now?�

“N-nothing.� She breathed deeply and slowly blew out her air. “I just . . . thought you liked me more than ‘on the cheek’.�

Harry was fighting hard against the lump of flesh lodged in his throat. “I do,� he croaked. I do not want to talk about this. I do not want to talk about this. To his disappointment, his rear remained firmly on the rock.

“Then why?� Her nails emitted bursts of tapping.

“Dunno.� He slumped.

“That’s not the way I want us to be.�

“I know,� and he did.

“Can I?�

“Huh?� his voice cracked.

“Just . . . let me try, and then we’ll see, ok?� Ginny spoke clearly and slowly, as if to a frightened deer.

“Huh?� he squeaked even louder. He was sure it was hunger sending his stomach into chaos. Food! I should go eat! ran through his mind, but what came out sounded a lot like ‘Ok’.

Ginny leaned in a bit, but broke down into chuckles. “You could at least close your eyes.�

He thought it couldn’t be nearly as bad if he closed his eyes, so he did. He felt the tickle of her hair before anything else. The sensation pounded through his veins when she kissed him. Where do I put my hands? he panicked inwardly. But still, his eyebrows returned to their rightful place and Ginny’s hands slid into his. He responded hesitantly, enjoying the warmth. Then, as the heat began to fan through his body and his lips were moist, he heard a jarring sound.

“Get your effin’ face off my sister!�

Hermione scoffed in Ron’s direction as he was absent-mindedly following McGonagall’s slow pace at the fore of the room. “It doesn’t look too bad anymore,� she muttered, indicating Harry’s black eye that had faded into a grotesque yellow color.

Harry merely glowered and continued taking notes on Animagi.

He didn’t care to have the fact that he and Ron had fought carried on his face all day for several days. Thankfully, the bruise seemed to be fading.

Still, Hermione would occasionally bring up the subject of his kissing and it never ceased to make him want to hide in a broom closet. Ron hadn’t said anything else before taking a swing at Harry’s face. He had somehow expected his friend to do something like that. What truly crawled under his skin was that, for the first time, Harry couldn’t do anything. He felt impotent. It never even occurred to him in that moment to grab his wand. He’d just stood there . . .

Sunday was rather tense until Ginny had pulled Ron away and spent half of the day alone with him. When they came back, Ron seemed much better, but Ginny was distant. She had yet to do more than tough his hand.

Somehow, this all seemed to be her doing. She’d kissed him, she’d caused the fight, she’d stopped Ron, and then she was the one avoided even getting close to Harry. Frustration boiled in his belly.

In all of this, Hermione still wasn’t speaking to Ron.

“ . . . Bear in mind, this is extremely advanced magic. It takes years of intense study to master the art. Yet, many a good wizard has died in the attempt to become an Animagus . . .� McGonagall’s lecture barely filtered through his thoughts.

“Are you listening?� Hermione hissed from his left.

“To Professor McGonagall? Yes. She said – “

“Not her! Me!�

“Must’ve missed it,� Harry said with a delicate touch of sarcasm. Ever since Saturday, Hermione latched herself to him in valiant efforts. She was stalwart in her stance . . . the problem was that Harry was sure no one knew what her stance was. He had a feeling it was something between Hermione and Ron, and left it at that. Harry surmised that they would always be either just in or just out of a battle, and as long as he had both friends, he wouldn’t bother with it.

Looking as if she could clutch a ball without the use of any of her limbs, Hermione tore a piece of parchment and scribbled furiously before pushing it at him and once again paying attention to McGonagall’s speech on the historical uses of animagi talents.

Harry read it reluctantly.

After classes today, we’re going to go check the portraits for transfigured ones.

He discreetly allowed an eyeball to roll back. The girl never rested! Everything had to be studied extensively before she would ever be satisfied. As he recalled the lesson in which McGonagall mysteriously alluded to the possibility of transfigured portraits in the castle, his curiosity on the subject once again piqued. He allowed his mind to wander and guess at the true forms of the paintings in the castle.

He was still imagining creatures that would spring forth from the frames on the fifth floor in Potions. Strangely violet goblins scampered through the corridors of his mind throughout class (it was a good thing that the potion was meant to turn that color at a point).

“I certainly hope you are dreaming of making good marks in my class, Potter. It doesn’t seem to be likely that your petulant mind could possibly pull it off in this reality. After all, your existence in my class was the work of a brainless non-entity. At least the others in this class earned their position. You, however . . .� Professor Snape lurked over Harry’s shoulder as a vulture. Harry could feel his staccato breathing wafting on him, despite the fact that he was sitting much lower than the professor’s head. Shivers crawled down his spine and he ached to poke him with his wand, if only to push him a yard back. Instead, he grumbled, “I earned the marks for this class.� He left off the fact that he didn’t want to be there any more than Snape wanted him there.

“Twenty points from Gryffindor!� he announced to the class.

“For what?� he spat while fighting to control his features.

“For insubordination,� the older man purred.

“But I didn’t . . . insubordinate,� he refuted as the class snickered. Hermione nudged him gently in the side and he opted for a moment of glaring silence instead.

Someday, Snape, you’ll need me. Then we’ll see.



His opinion and mood had not improved when Hermione all but forced him out of the common room that evening and into the hallways.

“Tell me why we’re doing this again?� Harry asked as they strolled a bit quickly down the hallway.

“Because it’s interesting, and we may find something important, and it gives us something to take our minds off.�

“Off what?�

Hermione ignored him and kept a pace ahead, walking with a purposefulness that Harry simply could not understand. “Have you got a clue where to start?�

“Yes!� she exclaimed breathlessly. She must have done some studying, because when she got like this, there was no stopping her. She knew something. It was only a matter of time until she let the rest of the world in on her knowledge. “I’m…not really sure if you are supposed to be here with me. If we find – “

“Find what?�

“Anything. Turn here.�

Harry was quite tired of her incomplete thoughts, but was bewildered when they ended up on the fourth floor. “Are we going to the library?�

Hermione beamed at him. “No!�

“Then . . .�

“Yes! Take a look at all these paintings. I was thinking earlier today that if we were going to learn anything in this castle, it would be on the same floor as the library.�

“What? That makes no sense. It doesn’t mean we’ll find anything up here.�

“You don’t think it’s a bit odd that the Mirror of Erised was on this floor, or that the library is?�

“No.� Harry crossed his arms. He wasn’t quite sure why he was so against the idea, but felt as if Hermione was grasping at straws. She had been a bit frightening as of late as well. He was beginning to question her mental state.

She threw a frown in his direction. In a painfully familiar pose, she put her hands on her hips. “Can you think of a better place to start?�

She’d got the best of him. Well, at least a part of her mind was still present and accounted for. “No.�

“Right then. What are the signs or clues to finding a portrait that is a transfigured object?�

“Professor McGonagall said there was a clue in the grain of the frame. As if it was a bit odd. I’m not sure, really. I think it was more like we had to look at them individually and see if there was anything strange about them.�

Hermione pursed her lips. “All right. I think it would be best if we just start at opposite ends of the hall here. If either of us sees anything, we’ll shout. Sound good?�

Harry nodded and watched Hermione dash down the corridor. Why is this all so rushed? There’s something she’s not telling me. Why did she make me come? I would have been perfectly happy to sit around the common room. Maybe then I could find out why Ginny all of a sudden can barely sit near me.

His brow furrowed as he turned to study the first painting. It was of a young girl, her bonnet sitting askew on her head. Her gentle smile was bewildering, belying the dangerous shadow that lurked just out of view. Harry knew it. He could feel it.

“Bullocks,� he mumbled to himself. “I’m a magnet for eerie feelings today.� He rolled his eyes and moved on to the next painting. The air around him seemed to buzz. He could hardly stand it. His previous meal was ill in his stomach and his hands were shaking. He risked a glance down the hallway and found Hermione intently studying a landscape portrait of some land far to the west. It’s going to be a long night.

There were literally hundreds of paintings littering the walls of each shadow-infested corridor at Hogwarts, and this one was no different at all. It was nearly an hour before his neck was so sore, he could barely creak it back into its rightful position. The tiniest of gasps hit his eardrums and caused his heart to hammer. “Honestly, that’s the last time I eat curry chicken,� he scorned himself, annoyed at the anxiety his body was displaying.

“Harry,� floated to his ears from only a bit down the passageway, and he turned to meet up with Hermione. She stood before a painting of an isle with veils of gray enveloping whatever mystery lay inside. Water lapped up onto the rocky shore. There, in the painting, stood a hooded figure.

“What is it?� asked Harry, seemingly intrigued by the figure, yet feeling a sense of foreboding.

“It’s a druid,� she nearly whispered. It was as if they were suddenly surrounded by the dead, and she was dreadfully opposed to waking them. Her eyes were wide and there was a sheen to her skin. “And Harry, look.� She pointed toward something on the druid’s finger. A gold sparkle. The menacing figure moved its hand just so, and suddenly, Harry realized it was a ring. “It’s your ring.�

“Everyone probably has a gold ring. What makes you think it’s mine?� He dropped his voice to match hers.

“I thought about that, but look here.� The figure in the painting straightened, its cloak falling slightly open at the clasp.

Curiosity was getting the best of him. “She’s a woman.� Somehow, this was surprising to Harry. The stature had looked so strong and powerful, he was expecting something of a warrior.

“A priestess. Some women were allowed positions of power in the priestly classes. That’s not it though. Look closely at her chest.�

Not a problem, thought Harry. As his eyes focused, he noticed something peculiar. There, upon the pale skin of the woman, he saw a tattoo.

“Very common among the Celts.�

Then he remembered. He couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed it immediately! Harry wrenched the ring off of his finger, and examined it in the light that flickered from the torch on the opposing wall. His throat squeezed every bit of air from his lungs.

“It’s the same.�

“How do we change it back?� Hermione gushed quickly. It was as if she was running out of time, and Harry felt it too.

“I-I can’t remember. Hold on, let me think.� His brain didn’t seem to be cooperating. “We have to sort of know what it is first.�

Hermione growled in frustration. “What could it be?� In a low whisper to herself, she paced, and continued, “What could it be. What could it be.�

“Right. So it has something to do with my ring, the Celts, and this Druid priestess.� The clicking he had just become accustomed to stopped. “Hermione?�

“How specific do we have to be?�

“Er…well, I don’t know . . .�

“Can we try a few?�

“I don’t know.�

“Let’s do that. Alright. You try it first. Try it with . . . oh, I don’t know, ‘stone’.�

“Alright.� Harry took out his wand and pointed it at the painting, not quite sure what to expect. “Ir-Irrecastum granula.�

Nothing.

“Perhaps you said it wrong,� Hermione chirped unhelpfully. “Let me try. Irrecastum stone.�

Nothing.

“Oh, it was me, wasn’t it?� Harry quipped wryly.

She waved him off with a hand, and put herself to thought once more. She spoke a long string of words to only herself. “So if it was written about 1000 A.D., then perhaps…Yes. It could be that way. After all, in Egypt…and then the other was in Greece.�

She spun to face the painting. In swift movements, she swished her wand appropriately and said, “Irrecastum parchment!�

Nothing.

The more annoyed she became, the more Hermione’s hair saw fit to drift into her line of vision, prompting her to huff it away with a gush of hair from her lungs. Harry thought it was a bit funny (and fitting) how bothersome it so obviously was.

“Wait.�

Harry stared at her, waiting for her to finish the thought. The aggravation she was feeling visibly melted from her features. Silence hung heavily in the air. Once more, she faced the painting. “Irrecastum Lingua.�

It fell onto the floor with a clap that echoed off the high ceiling. Both lower jaws hung as far as their facial muscles would allow. Hermione grabbed Harry’s hand and held tight. Her grip was astounding, and more than slightly painful.

At first, nothing happened. They gaped at it with confusion until slowly, lines began to fade. Then, whole spots faded. When all was complete, it looked like a parchment lay on the cold, stone floor. “I thought we tried ‘parchment’.�

Hermione bent over and skimmed her finger across the surface. “We did. It didn’t work because . . .� she held it out to him, “it’s written on skin.�



Harry walked through the classroom. The D.A. members were improving – there was no doubt about that. Nearly all took turns, taking care not to harm their partners. Most stood laughing occasionally and trading barbs.

All except those two.

It’d been like this for weeks. McKee and Draco would stare each other down, appraising abilities in a cold, calculating manner. Draco always appeared to be fit to burst with the anticipation of firing a curse at her. Harry couldn’t really understand why he didn’t. Even though Lupin was always alert to any trouble, he was sure the git of a Slytherin was semi-capable of quietly cursing.

While Draco’s eyes would quietly flicker toward the perpetually open office door, Mckee would simply stand there with her arms crossed. She never actually participated in the lessons. No, that wasn’t correct. She would occasionally practice lazily if Ginny insisted. (Why they were even friends, Harry couldn’t fathom). However, as everyone else loathed the two, they were doomed to each other’s presence.

They’ve been acting like this since the first day. I thought they would’ve fought or got over it by now.

As Harry strolled, he passed close by the two people he couldn’t stand. They were hissing comments toward one another. His ears began to take in their conversation on their own accord.

“Don’t talk to me, Mudblood.�

“If I’m a Mudblood, who is my Muggle father?� McKee wore a grotesquely sweet grin that Harry did his best to avoid looking at.

“Probably slinging mead in a filthy tavern. Probably the same wretched, low-life building you were conceived in,� Draco stated matter-of-factly.

“Oh, are we speaking of my mother now? Honestly, despite her upbringing, she caught a dead fish, wouldn’t you agree? I can see even your father taken with the slags of all varieties. Perhaps . . . like father, conspicuously like son?�

“As if I would dirty my hands with the common wizards in this school.�

“Wizards?� McKee’s voice lilted upwards along with the corner of her lip.

Draco’s eyes narrowed. “In the gender neutral manner.�

“I’m sure . . .� Her eyes unseeingly grazed the room.

“Shut up, you pathetic little ingrate! The only reason why I don’t curse you now is because,� he suddenly perceived the uncomfortable corner he’d backed himself into, “because I . . . have better things to do.�

“Like sitting here and shouting at me about your sexuality?�

“No, like getting rid of Mudbloods like you!�

“Like you?�

“No, like you! How dare you suggest any different!�

“I dare, because I care-“

A flash of light, and McKee was on the floor, crouched, tightly wound, and ready to spring.

“You know, it’s a pity Lupin saw that. I really wanted to watch that McKee tear into the ferret. It would have been a sight for sore eyes,� Ron daydreamed.

“She didn’t even use her wand,� commented Harry.

The former shrugged in reply. “She probably went to go grab it, but wasn’t quick enough.�

“I don’t know,� the scarred boy sighed. They wandered back toward Gryffindor Tower. The notes were beginning to pile, up, and Harry was beginning to feel the strain of N.E.W.T. level classes and essays. Just today, they began their study of vampires, and already had 3 feet of parchment to write on ‘Correct and Incorrect Traits of Vampires in Folklore’.

While silently bemoaning endless homework, he groaned aloud when he remembered that he was to meet with Dumbledore for another entertaining Occlumency lesson.

“What’s that about?� asked Ron with his eyes flicking about, looking for the source of Harry’s annoyance.

“I’ve got to go get my brain smashed in by Dumbledore again,� he sighed. “And he still hasn’t told me who was in his memory.� Harry’s shoulders slumped as he turned to head in the direction of the headmaster’s office.

“See you mate! Show him one of those disgusting thoughts! He’ll be wary of you then!� Ron called down the passageway. Without giving much attention to the thought, Harry wondered just how much Ron knew about his ‘disgusting thoughts’.

---

He entered Dumbledore’s cluttered office and instantly recognized the mane of hair that poked and curled around the sides of the chair. “Hey Hermione. Professor, what is she doing here?�

“Ah, Harry. Please, come, take a seat.� Harry took the chair next to Hermione and felt a strong sense of déjà vu. So much had happened in that very office over the years . . .

Headmaster Dumbledore grabbed hold of the arms of his own chair and lowered himself ponderously. His eyes found the tousled-haired boy. “After our most recent lesson, I was left with much to think about. For one matter, you seemed to be sincerely concerned about Hermione, here.� He gestured toward her with an open palm. She didn’t glance up from where she was inspecting a dent in the old man’s desk. “Professor Lupin investigated the matter . . . at my request. I shall explain her role in this lesson in a moment. In the second instance, you got through my own defenses and found yourself in one of my memories, most assuredly by no purposeful intention.�

Harry opened his mouth to demand the identity of the mystery speaker once more, but quickly snapped it shut again.

Dumbledore continued, unaware of a pause. “It would be untruthful to say you had not surprised me, Harry. I believe that while performing readings with Ginny, you had occasionally ventured into her mind as well . . .�

A sharp intake of breath came form Hermione and she glared at Harry accusatorily. “She let me!� He hissed at her. Suddenly, though, he felt a nagging discomfort in the back of his mind.

Dumbledore looked down his nose at the students until an obedient silence fell over them. “I believe that, for reasons I have not yet discerned, your reading have allowed you to acclimate your mind to intrusion. While this seems like a step backward in becoming an Occlumens, it is, in fact, just the opposite. You’ve learned to guide Ginny to particular thoughts and memories. This is, as you will learn, half the battle. That said, perhaps Hermione would like to tell you why she is here today.� The headmaster gave her a curt nod.

“All right. Well, I’ve been working for probably longer than I should on the translation of the parchment and the leather – the skin we – erm . . . found. With all the . . .� Hermione avoided Harry’s gaze, “extra time I’ve had, I’ve managed to work a lot of it out.�

Albus interrupted. “To be sure your thoughts or memories of Hermione and her translations don’t get through, we will include Hermione in our Occlumency lessons.�

“But why? If she doesn’t tell me anything, and Voldemort can’t break into her mind . . .�

“We may never know all that we know, and it is good to be cautious, Harry.� It was never a warm, fuzzy feeling that crept up his spine when Dumbledore chose to be evasive.

“Legilimens!�

---

“Knight to E5. This whole year has been a nightmare! We’ve got loads of homework every day – “

“Yeah, I’ve turned in a couple of assignments a bit late. It’s horrible. And term’s only half way through.�

“And Hermione’s gone totally mad!� They purposely waded away from the subject of Ginny. Ron still wasn’t keen on the idea of her kissing, and Harry resented Ron’s involvement altogether.

“Grodporter slime – “

“Two Quidditch games won!� Ron beamed.

“Bishop to C3. Luna Lovegood.� Both suppressed a laugh.

“Vampires.�

“Mirages.�

“The human mood ring.�

“Let’s not forget our painting of Malfoy. McGonagall hung that up in her office. Did you see?� Ron glowed in mirth.

“Yeah, I had detention with her a few times. Hagrid,� grinned Harry. “The entire class will run in circles once they meet the baby dragon Hagrid’s ordered.�

Ron allowed a smile to flit across his face before the balls of his cheeks slipped down solemnly.

“Well, at least you don’t have to deal with terrifying creatures,� Harry tried to comfort his distraught friend, taking his silence for a fear of the dragon.

Ron sucked in his cheeks for a moment, an annoying red hair falling into his eyes. “It’s all different.� He swallowed a lump.

“What do you mean?�

“Everything used to be normal. Now it’s changing.� He stared dejectedly down at the Gryffindor dining table.

“What’s changing?� came a brisk voice along with the loud clunk of a trunk. It was Hermione, her face a-glow against the wool scarf draped around her neck.

“Oh . . . er . . . us. We’re switching chess sets for the next round.�

“Oh. Well . . . I’m off!�

“We’re leaving for Christmas tomorrow instead of today . . . There was . . . something everyone had to do . . .� Ron stealthily glanced around for eavesdroppers.

She cleared her throat nervously. “Yes, well.� She seemed to be gathering her thoughts for a moment as her eyes screwed up toward the ceiling. “I have to go home. I have to go be with my parents,� she said firmly.

“What? But I thought – “

“I have to be with them.�

Ron was visibly conflicted with trying to understand her motives for breaking their previous plans, and wanting to spend Christmas with her.

In contrast, however, Hermione’s forehead was smooth. Her eyes were just barely squinted. Her lips were set, straight and firm. Put plainly, Hermione didn’t seem too miffed about not hanging around Ron all holiday. And that was somehow disturbing. What is going on with her?

Silence smothered them for a moment before removing its hand. All three friends looked at each other as they were without any pretenses or masks. Each held a rift between themselves and the other two. A palpable loneliness was seeping beneath their skin.

“Well!� Hermione erupted, breaking the thoughts drifting in and out of one another’s mind. “Must go. They’re gathering now for the train. I should be going.� She gave the two quick hugs and strolled quickly away. Ron stared at the chess board in numbness.

If now isn’t a good time, I don’t know when there will be one. “Be back in a second, Ron. Don’t move any of my pieces.� He nearly galloped to where Hermione stood in the Entry Hall, shifting her feet a bit.

“Hey, Harry,� she smiled slightly. “Did you miss me already, then?�

“No, I came to ask you something. That first day of Occlumency, Dumbledore said, ‘You would not do well to indulge in endless searching. Look around you.’ What did he mean by that? What are you searching for?�

“I don’t see how that’s your business,� Hermione clipped.

“No, it’s not,� he said hurriedly, trying to push through the situation without creating a scene. “But things have been different with you lately. It’s bothering Ron; I can tell. And you haven’t even tried to do anything about it!� He realized he was shouting only near the end, and students stared at them conspicuously.

Her face was pale; his anger seemed to have washed the color from her face. “How dare you! I care! I’ve had a lot on my plate and – “

“Like what? What’s so much more important than your friends?�

“I’m not telling you!�

“That’s just it! You’re not telling anyone! In the meantime, you’ve been treating people as if they were dirt!�

He swore he could see the moisture in her eyes as they picked through the crowd, catching another pair of eyes, seemingly, and reverted back to Harry. This small fact satisfied him just a little. “I can’t, Harry.�

“Carriages ‘ave arrived!� came Hagrid’s great bellow. Hermione shook her head and turned to leave, looking back only once.

---

“Argh! Christmas will be loads of fun now. Let’s have a ball in honor of the great McKee, who’ll bestow upon us all the spirit of a hemorrhaging cow!�

Ron was not absolutely thrilled at the prospect of having McKee as a guest for the holidays.

Harry laughed at the ludicrous image, but had similar misgivings. “So . . . you’ll be there to keep her occupied, right Ginny?�

“Honestly, one might think you two were actually afraid of her.� She smirked at them as she turned away.

“We’re not afraid of her,� they both assured her.

“She’s just not exactly sugar and spice,� said Ron. Aside from his current dilemma, he seemed to be well suited to the atmosphere at Grimmauld Place. The slight blow he perceived at Hogwarts with Hermione’s change of plans didn’t seem to extend so far into his life that it followed him to London. He was not wonderful, but he was all right.

“Why is she coming, anyway?� Harry rested his rear on Ginny’s bed, talking to her back as she facetiously unpacked.

“She’s got no one else,� Ginny replied curtly. “If you two could manage to ignore the rude bits, I think you’d be fine with her.�

Ron coughed a bit, and it sounded suspiciously like ‘not on your life’.

“I don’t know how you manage to duel with her,� Ron mused from the doorway. “She always cheats with that blade of hers. You know, she carries it around as if it were a token from a lover.�

His sister turned slightly and raised an eyebrow at him from over her shoulder, saying nothing in response. Ron, however, blushed extraordinarily.

---

While the Weasleys were finishing up breakfast, Harry was in his room, digging through his perpetually disorganized trunk. He searched out his left-over galleons from last year in order to buy presents in Diagon Alley for his family.

It seems like ages ago that we were there. They came so quickly, and me and Hermione couldn’t move fast enough. Malfoy. Harry gave an involuntary shudder as the ghostly image of Lucius appeared before him, as large as before. He’s haunting Hogwarts. But what can he possibly do as a ghost? He then thought of Peeves and amused himself with combining Peeves’ tricks and Malfoy’s gloomy visage.

He jerked back, landing on his bum, as his hand fell on some especially cold object. Harry scrambled over to his trunk and peered over the edge at the offending item. The mirrors! He removed one of the remaining three from the open box he’d stashed away inside his expanded trunk.

Thankfully, it wasn’t broken. The metal weaved around the edge like some meandering river. The reflection annoyed him. It seemed to be an inappropriate time for some skinny bloke to be staring at him.

“Sirius’ mirror,� the whisper came and faded into nothingness. A cool breeze swam past his ears, telling him to do it, to try one more time. This is stupid.

“Sirius . . .� he mumbled gruffly, wanting and trying his best to remain unruffled.

His heart slammed against his rib cage as he flung the freezing mirror onto his bed and backed away. What sounded like a strong exhalation emanated from the oval mirror. No, he shuddered even as it gained radiance.

“Hhhhaaricole,� the mirror breathed. Thousands of chattering whispers danced in his ears, raising a thunderous noise. “Whhhinew.�

“What?� he mumbled ineffectually into the light.

“Hhhhhaaricole.�

“I can’t . . . I can’t understand you.�

“Whhinewicole.�

He took a step closer, bit by bit, until he propped himself above the mirror on extended arms. While the light looked burning hot, it was cool on his face. Still, he could not quite hear them. Anxiously, tentatively, he lowered his ear to the glass.

“Harry called,� grumbled the mirror, causing Harry to yell and jump backward. His curiosity took over and he returned, propelled by something he couldn’t deny.

“We knew he would call.� It was in answer to the first.

“S . . . Sirius?� he asked with a squeak in his throat.

“He speaks!� Silence.

Then, a familiar voice rang through his mind. It spoke quickly. “You are protected by more! T . . . the love in your blood! Trust! He despises it! He doesn’t . . .� It faded as Harry gaped at the torturously camouflaging light. “He doesn’t trust! I . . . alive! He stole it . . . you’re alive!�

“Sirius!� Harry roared with all the force in his lungs, unsure of how to react. It was him! I know it was him!

The whispers returned in their excitement. Harry’s arms shook at his sides as he stood glaring at the mirror. They’re shouting below. Bullocks! They’re coming!

He searched around the room impatiently. How does it turn off? “Shit.� In haste, he picked up the mirror, said, “Stop! End!� and the mirror darkened as he shoved it beneath a pillow.

His chest heaved and his stomach clenched as he spun around to watch the door being flung open. Mrs. Weasley rushed in and wrapped her tender arms around the boy. “Oh, you poor thing! It’s ok. Just breathe, and I’ll wait here until it’s better.�

Harry had let Mrs. Weasley coddle him only moments more before protesting and insisting he was fine. Ron stared at him quizzically, waiting for him to tell what caused Harry to shout ‘Sirius’ at the top of his lungs.

That simply could not happen.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to let Ron know about the mirror and Sirius (which was what Ron seemed to be thinking, judging by the look on his face), but how could he tell his best friend what the mirror said without telling him the prophecy?

But why am I hiding it still?

There was a time when it was too much for Harry to deal with. He didn’t want to worry anyone. He didn’t want to see tears. He didn’t want to further risk their lives by telling them the truth. But now? It was no longer logical. If they wanted to be a part of the war – insisted so, even – then Harry could only be decent enough to give them the same weapon Voldemort stole from his mind.

I have to tell them . . .

It would have to wait, though, because while Mrs. Weasley sought to assure herself of Harry’s mental stability, he’d heard the deep voice of McKee. Urg! She’s here. He and Ron shared a grimace of mutual dissatisfaction before offering Molly a reassuring smile. “I’m sure I’m all right. Don’t worry about me. I think I was daydreaming or something. So . . . when can we get going?�

---

As stubborn as she was, it took some more convincing to get Mrs. Weasley to let them go. The three met Ginny and McKee downstairs (the girl looked as foul in Muggle attire as she did in her robes). After gathering a few more Order members to join them, they used Floo powder to transport them to Diagon Alley.

“If there’s any trouble – any at all – get to Fred and George’s shop. They’ll know what to do.�

“Do you think Death Eaters are evil enough to attack at Christmastime?� asked Ginny.

“What makes you think they care about a baby who sleeps with farm animals?� drolled McKee.

Annoyed with even the blink of her eye or a whisper of her voice, Harry suggested they split up.

“Oh, no you don’t!� ordered Mrs. Weasley. “There could be supporters of You-Know-Who-“

“But Mum, if we split up, we’re less of a target. And we’ll have Newberry and Gervic with us . . . They look a bit strong, right?� Ron attempted at a weak joke.

Molly eyed her two youngest children, undecidedly. She flicked her eyes back and forth, knowing she had to go with one, and trust the care of the other to other Order members. “Whomever I go with, the other will have no less than three guards.�

Ginny inconspicuously declined her head toward Ron. He understood. “Why don’t you come with me and Harry, Mum,� he said quietly.

“Yeah . . . erm . . . I needed help picking something for Hermione, and – “

“Oh! Isn’t that sweet! Of course I’ll help – “

“Mmkay, bye Mum!� Ginny and her dark friend began to stroll down Diagon Alley. Her mother’s eyes flashed and she quickly gestured toward a few of the guards who were somewhat new to the Order, but looked familiar enough to Harry. “Hurry! Go on . . . If she’s hurt,� she implied meaning with a hiss.

Without question, Molly Weasley herded them into a dress robes shop, which led to much groaning from Ron, Harry, Newberry and Gervic. The latter two looked rather resigned to the idea, however.

“They allowed women to wear them down in their old age,� cracked Ron. “Oi, Mum! Isn’t this place a bit . . .� He dropped his voice low in his self-imposed chagrin. A blush crept onto his cheeks.

Mother Weasley stuck her nose proudly in the air, reminding Harry where Ginny came from. The thought was both parts funny and disturbing. “If you don’t believe in your worth, Ron, no one else will. If Harry wants to find her a nice gift – and you as well – then you’ll both find it here.�

“But – “

“No buts!� she halfway screeched.

“Pardon me, Madam, Can I . . . help you in some way?� A regal blond strolled out from behind the counter. A scowl covered her features like a veil that spoke too loudly of her thoughts concerning the small group.

Molly, apparently, was choosing to ignore the implied slight. “Yes, you can, actually. We were searching for some dress robes for a girl of sixteen years.�

“There’s a lovely shop just down that way that would be glad to craft your friend – “

“If you speak of Belinda’s Bargain Boutique, I’m not interested. Actually, I’d like to see those lavender robes over there.� Mrs. Weasley’s brisk, commanding pace left everyone, the sales girl included, scurrying after her. Harry was impressed.

Glad I’ve only been on her bad side once, he mused.

Harry sat idly by on a puff of white silk while Mrs. Weasley ordered the tailor to ‘take this in’ and ‘tuck this here’. Ron ambled around the shop to try to amuse himself while suffering from the common male malady of shopping boredom. Harry watched his red-haired friend out of the corner of his eye as he spied a bit of a silver trinket and picked it up. Looking directly might have embarrassed him, as he was clearly thinking of their distant friend, Hermione. The snobbish counter woman accepted his coins with a limp wrist. He quickly stuffed the gift into his pocket and returned to Harry, who pretended to be infinitely interested in the tailor’s long hair.

“All right. I think we’ve got it!� beamed Mrs. Weasley.

---

Shopping is painless, really, Harry thought as he heard the gentle twinkling as the door closed behind them. He decided that perhaps it was good to have Mrs. Weasley shopping for him. At least he didn’t have to wander about aimlessly, looking for a present to kick him in the arse.

Diagon Alley seemed to prickle in excitement . . . except excitement probably wasn’t right . . . it was more like something was impending . . .

“Crucio!� boomed a voice and Mrs. Weasley collapsed onto the red and brown bricks of the street as if all her joints had disappeared. Her shrieks came out in great bursts, as if it was too much effort to hold a scream through her pain. Her pale arm twisted over her head. Her calf cracked in half and bent at an inhuman edge. Harry felt vomit seeking escape. He vaguely heard Ron in a horrified yell when a voice broke through the lament of No . . . no . . . no, echoing in his head.

“Run! Now!� shouted Gervic. “Go� he bellowed. Harry’s feet caught up to his brain. He grabbed Ron’s arm and half dragged him as they took flight toward Fred and George’s shop. Ron beat his arms, shoulders and back, but there was no choice. Newberry would take care of her. Newberry would save her.

Ice washed down his spine as he saw him. A Death Eater stood near the door, lying in wait. With immense frustration, Gervic pushed the two low, allowing them to be lost under the heads of the crowd. They moved quickly toward the door, but wands erupted. Mothers, fathers, sisters and brothers fought to protect their loved ones they loving brought shopping with them. Harry heard a nearby shout, but it was lost among the many.

They reached the threshold and saw the collapse of the Death Eater, but here were surely more to come. The threesome moved inside, yelling, “Fred! George! Where the bloody fuck are you?�

They searched. They found them. They lay in the back room. On the floor.

“Shit!� Gervic cursed. He fumbled through their jackets, and seemed to find the prize. He unwrapped the item with shaky movements and place it on the floor. “They have to touch. All at the same time!�

Harry nodded in acknowledgement. He and Ron each grabbed the hand of one of the Weasley twins.

“One! Two! Thr – “

---

“They’re dead! They can’t be . . . Help them!� Ron screeched as they landed hard in Grimmauld Place. When Harry looked at him, she saw blood covering half of Ron’s face.

“Ron,� he said gruffly, “you’re bloody.�

He leaned over the bodies they’d carried back to their home. “Who effin cares? Fred! George! Wake up! I’m sorry . . . I’m sorry. Please!�

A plump woman restrained Ron when Newberry entered. He lowered his face and spoke quietly. “It’s okay. It’s all right, Ron. I’m a mediwizard. I’ve got your mum upstairs. I’m taking care of her.�

“How can you be if you’re down here?� he spat. “I . . . Fred! What about them?� Dirt, dust and gory grime covered his face like a graveyard, and streams of tears diluted and made his eyed stand out like a cat in the night.

Newberry frowned deeply and bent down to inspect their limp bodies. He cleared his throat. Harry watched his Adam’s Apple bob several times before he spoke. “They’ve passed out. From pain.� A sheen on the middle-aged man’s forehead ripened, and his hair began plastering itself upon his skin. It had nothing to do with physical effort; it was all mental strain. He conjured two stretchers and used a charm to levitate them upstairs. The boys rushed after him. Gervic, Harry noticed, had collapsed onto the couch, his head cradled in his hands.

It’s all happening so fast! he thought as he bounded up the stairs.

A hand was thrown out, blocking them from entering the makeshift hospital. “We can’t go in there.� Bill had a deadly serious expression that seemed foreign to his features.

“You wouldn’t want to anyway,� said Charlie.

“She’s my mum!�

“She’s all our mum, Ron. We . . . just can’t.�

“What happened out there?� Arthur pushed through the small crowd of Order members. “What happened to Molly? And . . . Fred and George?� His hands shook with anxiety and fear. He was pale; all the blood seemed to have rushed to his hands.

“They . . . they attacked us . . . the Death Eaters.�

“But at Christmas?� he gasped, as if it were an impossible notion.

Harry only nodded. Ron seemed to be doing the same, slumped against a wall.

“I have to leave, Dad. I will be back in one hour. Please contact me in our way if you need me,� assured Bill before disappearing.

A moment later, there was a raucous pounding on the stairs as a red-head bobbed into view. “Where? Where are they?� she screeched.

“Ginny!�

She turned to look at the disheveled, bloody mess that was her brother’s face. “Oh, Ron!� She ran over and hugged him, landing hard on her knees. Pulling back, she began to wipe his face with her sleeve.

“Gin . . . that’s not . . .� but she only slapped the hand away.

“All right,� bustled in a robust creature with broad hips and shoulders, “I was told by the snotty girl downstairs that everyone is up here . . . and you are. Please move, dear, I’m a Healer’s Aide.�

She worked deftly and quickly. Soon, a raw pink skin shone through. The cut was a large slice along the side of his face. “Ron, is it? I’m afraid you’ll likely have a scar.�

“Among the many,� commented Arthur quietly.

Ron only scowled in return, his nose wrinkling along the sides.

“Please, tell me what happened, Ron,� Arthur asked while holding his daughter in a suffocating embrace.

---

It seemed hot Butterbeer never went down so well as when he felt empty inside.

They told the story to the wide-eyed, shocked crowd. In the meantime, the mediwizard worked with his apprentices long into the night. Even now, no one had been let in or out. One by one, everyone had fallen victim to an unwanted sleep. Everyone, that is, except Ron, Ginny and Harry.

“We didn’t finish our shopping,� Ron mumbled.

Ginny only tweaked her nose at him. After a deep breath, she answered this small remark with, “McKee saved me.�

Harry and Ron both raised their eyebrows at the unassuming girl with hair falling into her face. When she didn’t elaborate, they let the subject drop, as they weren’t keen on McKee in any way.

The attacks had been weighing on him. Not only the one from today, but the one before term began, and the Department of Mysteries. It was difficult to avoid the engulfing feeling that it was all his fault somehow. As he stared at his friends, he thought they had a right to know why their mother and brothers lay bent and broken.

He took another sip and choked a bit. They watched unseeingly as he coughed. He strokes his own thumb and stares at his ring as he began.

“So . . . erm . . . I know the prophecy . . .�

He sensed her presence before she became visible. His stomach clenched with reluctance. It’s not that Harry was upset with Hermione. It wasn’t her fault she wasn’t there for the attack, to help or to console. He wasn’t quite sure why he felt she should have been, though. Perhaps it was a general annoyance at her slow descent over the last few months. Whatever it was, Harry did not feel like talking just as he’d found some peace in the courtyard.

“What are you doing up here?� she asked lightly, placing herself beside him on the stone bench.

“Sitting.�

“I can see that. Everyone else is down by the lake. Why don’t you come?� She eyed him in a sympathetic manner.

“I’m not going because everyone is down there.� He glared at the ground because he was afraid of turning it on his friend. He wasn’t happy with her, and he wanted her to know that, but he didn’t care for the backlash of her reciprocation.

She sighed and leaned back on the pads of her hands. As she blew a gush of air from her lungs, she watched it steam and curl. It was still February. The month was surely never-ending. “It’s a bit chilly, isn’t it?�

“It’s winter.�

He could feel her trying to restrain her frustration at his lack of personable conversation. Why was she bothering? All he wanted was to be alone with an empty mind. Instead, she came along for some mysterious reason, determined to shatter the kind silence surrounding him.

“So I saw you and Ron got a letter today. Is Mrs. Weasley is all right?�

“I don’t think ‘all right’ is really right. She’s walking with a cane. Fred and George only just got back to normal.�

“Were their minds . . .?�

“Damaged? A bit,� he replied bitterly. What did she care? She’d been lost in her own little world for ages! “They’re mostly normal, now.�

Hermione tried to giggle, but spotted the scowl embedded in her dark-haired friend’s face, and the smile quickly faded from hers. She bit the inside of her lip and opened her mouth to speak. Yet, nothing came out. After a couple more tries, she managed to say, “I’m sorry.�

Harry snorted. “About what?�

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you. I’m sorry I stayed away all holiday – “

“I thought you were with your parents?� he interrupted with more than a hint of skepticism.

“I was!� she asserted. “I just . . . needed a break from . . . from everyone, I suppose.�

Harry rolled his eyes quite obviously. “No. You just had some mad thing going on for months, and didn’t see any reason to tell us about it. Then you ignored all of us, and hid away.�

“I did not hide away!� she hissed.

“How do you explain how you ran off when you were about to leave for holiday, then? You just up and ran away. You could have been nicer to Ron, you know!�

“It was too hard talking to him!�

“You would know. It’s not like you tried.�

“I did try, every day! But then I always knew I was going to say something wrong, and really make things worse!� Her tone took on a higher pitch. “And this isn’t just about me. You’ve been leaving us all out ever since – “

“Don’t say it.�

She paused a moment to consider, and continued with a gentler tone. “You only just told Ron and Ginny the prophecy.�

“So? It was about me. It was my information to share or not.�

“But we’re your friends. If one of us has some type of fate, I would expect for us all to share it and bear it together.�

“Why? It’s mine alone. I don’t remember hearing that there were others involved. Only I can kill him. Which would be fantastic if I had any idea what the hell I’m doing.�

“I know. Ron told me.�

Harry shot her a frightening grin. “Yeah. I figured they would. You and Ron all cozy then? It took a great gash in his cheek for you to stop being a – “

“Harry! Just stop it! Stop it!� She rose quickly to her feet, her cloak spinning with her as she hovered over his bent head. “I have always been by your side! I have always helped you, no matter if it was wrong . . . or- or stupid. Or dangerous! I’ve been left out, ignored, and stepped-on all term, and I got tired of it, okay? For a moment . . . just a moment, I wanted out. I’ve said it. I wanted out!� She stopped her foot for emphasis, her arms stiff by her sides.

Harry felt her hovering directly over him, and only felt anger welling up inside. Yet, something she’d said stood out to him. ‘I wanted out.’ It was the same thing that had been playing like a Muggle record in the background of every room. It was in the Great Hall. It was in the Dungeons. It was even hovering just over Dumbledore’s head.

“Welcome to the club, Hermione,� he said in a husky lilt.

He didn’t feel it at first, but soon, Hermione’s arms found themselves around his neck as she pulled him into a tight embrace. It seemed foreign at first, but for some reason, it was good enough to melt most of the anger he held for her . . . at her.

She said something that was horribly muffled.

“What?�

She pulled away, and returned to the bench. “I said . . . I didn’t mean to learn Occlumency . . . that fast.� She’d only begun taking lessons with him right before holiday, and yet, she’d made a comparatively quick climb. She was at the supreme level as Harry. He’d seen her up late at night, seemingly meditating. A hard rock embedded itself into his heart as he thought of what he was bringing upon his friends . . . and what they chose to bear. They seemed to be more than friends to willingly do so much for him. They were more like soul mates. Their lives and destinies were intertwined with hate and love.

Yet it still bit at him that she hadn’t taken long to learn.

“You didn’t learn yet. You’re not done training.�

“But . . . I’m already up to your level. I can block somewhat minor intrusions!� she beamed at Harry’s perturbed frown. “Now don’t get all sore on me. The sooner we both learn it, the sooner I can tell you what I’ve learned.�

“What you’ve learned?�

“Well yes. Didn’t you hear me when I said I’d gotten most of the parchment translated? It was loads of work. After all, not even Muggle Translators by profession have figured it out yet. It’s quite interesting really. Did you know that in the – oh, wait. Nevermind.�

“What?� he asked exasperatedly. How could she begin and not finish?

“We need more practice,� Hermione said succinctly, and left it at that.

---

“So, Harry, I know it’s Valentine’s Day and all, but would it be all right if I spent a bit of time with McKee in Hogsmeade?�

“Why would you want to?� snarled Ron, before Hermione elbowed him with a smile.

Harry couldn’t really explain it, but somehow, the walls between them all had broken down ever since they came back from holiday. Ron no longer glared at him and Ginny when they held hands for a moment. Nor did his eyes hold the same sullen matte as they did before Christmas. While some Weasleys lay in their beds, slowly healing, somehow the bonds that had been snapped between the young friends were growing together again like bone.

He felt terrible for lashing out at Hermione when she spoke to him the weekend prior. He’d been so miserable about bringing harm to them . . . to all of them – potential and real. It was so easy to be angry with her, because she’d been so absent. Now, as he looked around, watching his anger fly out of the tall windows of the Great Hall, he was struck with a familiar sensation. He was content. If only they weren’t in a war. If only . . . If only that damned music would stop playing!

“What?� he snapped at Ginny, who’d just repeated her question.

“Don’t you get huffy with me! I only asked if that was all right with you.�

He wrinkled his nose. “I don’t know what you see in her.�

“I think you would if you got to know her,� she said with a sarcastically sweet smirk.

“She sat with us every meal for weeks. Don’t you think that’s enough time?�

“No . . . stupid Snape . . . prat,� she grumbled, along with other choice phrases while stabbing at the food on her plate. Harry guessed this was because Snape threw a fuss about McKee sitting at their table. Something was said about her breaking school traditions. Either way, Harry didn’t care, so long as she was gone.

The music swayed through the corners of his brain. It was odd, having some sort of wonky theme music in his brain. At least if everyone else could hear it, he wouldn’t look like the idiot humming his own theme song.

“Harry? Can you pay attention for two minutes?� Ginny screeched.

Sometimes, the similarities between Ginny and her mother were appalling, not to mention crippling. Suddenly, he didn’t feel like hanging around a tiny Mrs. Weasley . . . on this particular day. “Erm, yeah. Go ahead. I’ll see you later.�

“Great!� She jumped from her seat and gave him a peck on the cheek before dashing over to the Slytherin table. Harry nearly snorted his drink out his nose when he saw the blatant manner in which she tottered, with exaggerated hip movements. Snape saw no humor and glared at her from the staff table.

“Oi, Harry . . .�

“What?� he asked, looking back at Ron, who seemed to be looking at something just over Harry’s shoulder.

“About that Ginny bit, forget I said anything. Deal?�

“Deal,� he grinned, and both dug into their meals with unrestrained vigor.

Hermione spent a moment glancing between them with confusion written in every turn. “Wait one minute. It took you both this long to stop fighting over that?�

Harry gave her an odd look. “No,� he said as if she were mad.

“You both need counseling.�

Professor Lupin appeared from over Hermione’s shoulder. “Good morning, everyone! Harry, I wanted to commend you on your successful banishment of the Pincahote a few days ago. I am quite sure it will be scratching its wounds for quite some time.�

“Too bad it can’t lick, really,� Ron twitched at the image he’d created.

Remus Lupin gazed at the small group staring up at him speechlessly. Hermione looked as if she wanted to pout. “Oh! And you two did a wonderful job as well.� He smiled benignly. He looked a bit left and right, searching for potential eavesdroppers. He sidled over to a third year who was altogether too thoroughly enjoying his sausage.

“Hello, young man. I believe that pretty Ravenclaw girl, just over there,� he pointed, “is motioning for you to come over.�

The curly-haired youth bounded over to where Lupin pointed, and was greeted with a polite smile and a sideways grimace.

“Right, now that’s done.� Remus straddled the bench next to Harry and leaned in. “I’ve heard about your Occlumency lessons. Simply superb!� he beamed in proud acknowledgment. “You both can block intrusions. That is truly, truly fantastic.�

Harry frowned. “Well, I can only block small intrusions. If Dumbledore wanted to, he could get in.�

“But it’s not like he can just sashay in, you know. You can block him,� mentioned Ron.

“And Harry, he is one of the most powerful wizards in our day. No one expects you to be able to come out on top of him,� Hermione pointed out kindly.

Harry glowered, “Oh no, because it’s not as if I’m expected to beat out another of the most powerful wizards of our age or anything.� Sarcasm gave him a very satisfied feeling.

Lupin clapped a hand on his shoulder. “You will only get better, I can assure you.� He stood and gave Hermione a wink. “I believe the time is about right . . . if you take care.�

Her eyes grew large beneath stray curls and she nodded fervently.

“What do you mean? Time for what?�

“Oh, this will be great!� Ron whooped.

Harry walked with Ginny down to Hogsmeade, holding her hand as she expected. At least she wasn’t reminding him of her mother anymore. Ron and Hermione were a bit behind. As he peeked back at them, a pang hit him. There was a scar across half of Ron’s face. It was thin. It wasn’t grotesque, but Harry felt as if he’d caused it himself.

He’d often caught Hermione looking at the mark of Christmas with sorrow written in her features.

“Don’t worry, Harry. Perhaps it was a bit bad before, but Hermione’s back to normal, I think,� whispered Ginny.

“What I don’t understand still, is what was going on before.�

Ginny scrutinized his face, and even tripped a bit for her lack of attention on her feet. She giggled to herself. Quickly, she mumbled, “She wanted someone else,� with her hair hiding the thoughts on her visage.

“What?� he growled quietly.

“I don’t know when it changed . . . sometime around when I learned how to do our readings . . . but suddenly, she stopped paying attention to Ron, and started, er, noticing someone else . . .�

“Who?� A deep ‘v’ was entrenched in his forehead. Just as they were beginning to get along again. “She didn’t – “

“No! She would never! And I can’t tell you who. It was very short-lived, and it doesn’t matter – “

“How can it not matter? And if she didn’t do anything, and how could nothing be short-lived?�

Ginny shrugged and began to stroke his hand with her thumb. The music blared in his mind and shivers crawled up his spine, causing his thought process to be completely lost. Instead, he mindlessly watched as black shadows crept around, through and over Hogsmeade. There was a far larger population of overly-hooded people roaming about. Harry knew it was the Order, acting as guards for the students. It seemed Dumbledore had taken Harry’s and Ginny’s warning seriously.

“Will you stop that annoying humming?� Ron shouted at him from behind.

“I wasn’t humming!�

Hermione and Ginny giggled and gave each other a knowing grin. Suddenly, his red-haired counterpart spotted the ghastly McKee. “You have got to get more friendly friends,� Harry declared.

“You’re right. You bunch are a bit mean,� she smirked.

“Hey! I meant that evil thing over there.�

“Stop it. I’ll see you later,� Ginny said stiffly, leaving Harry looking both confused and annoyed.

He heard the monster speak. “Honestly, Potter, what are you afraid I’ll do?� she called out before joining Ginny in a stroll.

“Freeze her and bite her head off, you Medusa Mantis,� he grumbled.

Ron and Hermione caught up to him on either side. “The Three Broomsticks?�

“Oh, I could use a butterbeer right about now,� Ron looked down at his protesting stomach.

The door chimed as they walked in. It was bustling with students, professors, shop owners and shoppers alike. Dishes scraped and clanged while hearty laugher colored the air. No one seemed to be perturbed or put off by the presence of the guards. On the contrary, they seemed to feel safer. All around was friendly camaraderie and jovial conversation. Harry couldn’t help but smile as the three strolled over a recently vacated booth. Hermione made a movement with her wand after they sat down, tracing long lines in the air and whispering in a low, guttural sound. When she finished, she stowed away her wand and placed her hands on the table.

Harry and Ron just stared at her.

“What?�

“What did you just do?�

“Oh, you know how the Imperturbable Charm works, right?�

They nodded while Harry rolled his eyes.

“Well, I found a spell one day that will allow the caster to create an imperturbable box. Quite handy, really, but fairly obvious. Most people don’t use it for that reason – if they know about it at all. It’s much easier to allow people to assume you’re not talking about something important than to blatantly make it known you’re talking about something important.

“Then why are you making it obvious?�

“Hold on and I’ll show you,� she said hastily as Madam Rosmerta approached them. She flicked her wand in a complicated curl.

She took everyone’s order, and brought it to them rather quickly.

“Did you know that in History of Magic, I learned all about how cauldrons have changed over the centuries?� she said loudly, then reenacted the curled motion.

“What do we care about that?� asked Ron suspiciously.

She was clearly self-satisfied. “Exactly! No one will care.�

Harry again allowed his eyes to roll. “So what is this great thing Ron thinks you’re going to tell me?�

“What are your suspicions?� she asked coyly. As he began to think about his answer, he felt a bit of pressure in the front of his head, and instantly recognized it as Hermione gently prodding into his mind. It felt almost like when the Muggle doctors in his youth were giving him a shot, and the needle was just pushing in his skin, but hadn’t broken through quite yet. As he felt it, he instinctively directed the prod to a memory of him walking down Wisteria Walk. The probing persisted, as did his memory (he’d taken long walks over the years). But then, it was as if the needle had broken through. It was aggressive. He felt like a cornered animal. So he guided her to gruesome images he’d seen over the years of children beat up by Dudley, of horrifying images from the television.

Then, he wondered. In his mind’s eye, he turned around as he did in his readings with Ginny. He saw the connection and touched it, drifting into her own mind. He spotted the druid before he was carelessly shoved out by Hermione.

“What did you do?� Ron spat.

Hermione had her head in her hands, pushing the pain out of her head by breathing hard through her teeth. Harry felt similar. He looked dazedly between his two friends.

“I was just testing you, Harry.�

“I noticed,� he said calmly. He wasn’t sure why he felt calm. He’d just had a pretty brutal attack. However, he felt as if the waters had receded, and he could see the bottom for what it was. “You’ve been holding back in the lessons.� It wasn’t an accusation. It was merely a statement.

“Well, in a way, I guess.� She kept her palm pressed up against her temple. Harry’s scar held an odd thrum. “It was more like, I wasn’t sure how strong I was supposed to put it. I only tried it here to see how strong you were.�

“Why?� He was feeling quite annoyed at her audacity. “Was Dumbledore’s testing not good enough for you?�

“It’s not that. I just wanted to . . . see for myself.�

They glared at each other for a moment before Ron took a large slurp. “We’re all a bit sidetracked. Let’s get to the good stuff.�

Hermione sighed, giving up the argument. “Well, I’ve said that I’ve got most of the parchment translated, and that I couldn’t tell you anything because neither of us were trained up enough in Occlumency. Well, I guess we both really put in effort over the last week, because we seemed to both be rather good at it.� Harry nodded formally. “So . . . I suppose it’s time I told you all that I know.�

Harry’s eyebrows flew beneath his hairline, and his heartbeat grinded through his chest like the dull roar of a train. This was it. He would finally learn . . . something . . . about his past . . . or his ancestral past anyway.

“Wait!� he nearly shouted. “Can they,� he motioned to the public in The Three Broomsticks, “see us?�

“Well of course they can!�

Ron caught on. “Can’t someone read lips?�

A boy standing on one of the tables caught their attention. He seemed to be making a toast, although they couldn’t hear him. He then brought a girl on to the table with him, where she smiled shyly and held onto him for dear life.

“Interest diverted,� Hermione said quickly. “I will try to say this quickly. Over a thousand years ago in Ireland lived a man named Ambrosius and another named Salazar – you know of him, of course. Ambrosius is also known by the name of Merlin. He’s in the Muggle King Arthur legends, but it turns out he was actually a person! Ambrosius was a displaced king –“

“What does that mean? Then he wasn’t king.�

“He was king for a short time. So short, in fact, that there is no record of his ruling years. All that King Arthur bit came afterward, when he was already an old man. Even then, most of it is unconfirmed legend. Muggles made most of it up to suit their times. It does say that he served as an advisor to the king.�

She paused for a moment, and gathered her thoughts before continuing. “So Merlin was a pureblood – there were more of them back then – and the prejudice that exists now was the same back then. He fell in love with a Celtic priestess . . . a druid. Druids were involved in an ancient magic that is much closer to the Muggles than our brand of magic. Merlin sought to be with her.�

“So how does Salazar fit into this?� Harry wondered aloud.

“Salazar had an ongoing feud . . . no, more like a bit of a war . . . with the druids. He despised Muggles, and saw the druids as Muggles, teaching magic arts (however gained) to those unworthy. He saw it as a sort of fake magic, but was still angry that it existed. Salazar was determined to wipe what he thought of as his land of the Muggles. First, he decided to take care of the druids that were teaching them a ‘fraudulent’ brand of magic. He and his comrades had attacked them throughout the years, and fought with a particular tribe the most. In it was the Celtic priestess, Enid.�

“Enid?� Ron wrinkled his nose.

“You’ll know why in a moment. I can’t tell if the bard who wrote this named her, or if it was her real name.� She sighed.

“I don’t really know how best to say this. It happened all the time in the past, but it’s so terrible. During one of his attacks, he found Enid and raped her. It was very brutal, and she was left with many scars.� Hermione avoided Ron’s eyes. “At some point, when Merlin was courting Enid, she told him of the battles . . . and the rape. She’d told him that her people could not find the haggard wizard. Merlin, with his many magical talents, located him, froze him, and brought him to her.�

“Froze him? How did he do that?� Harry asked.

Hermione only shook her head. “That is one of those spells that could have been lost in time. I’ve never found it. It had to be strong to overcome Salazar.

“What did they do?� groaned Ron, who was sure he wouldn’t like to know.

“They cut it off. They cut . . . his male parts off. Then Enid put some type of druid potion on there to stop him from being able to grow it back . . . in any way.�

Harry thought of the painting that was a bit of transfigured skin. Her face looked so strong and serene. Now, the face he saw was contorted in uncontained rage.

Hermione continued, undeterred, as Harry and Ron stared at her without blinking amidst the silent hubbub. “They sent him away ‘across the sea’ as it says. I don’t know where, but it took a long time for him to arrive back in Ireland. Enid became pregnant with Merlin’s child and gave birth, before Salazar came back to Ireland. He’d come to kill her and Merlin. When he learned of the newborn baby, he was furious that an atrocity of ‘Muggle magic’ was created. He sought to murder the baby, along with his parents.�

“Gee, that doesn’t sound familiar,� Harry grumbled.

“That’s just the thing, Harry! History is cyclical! And it plays a role in your situation.�

Harry motioned for her to press on.

“He hated them with all the wrath he could muster. He decided to go after Enid first, because she was the one – in his mind – that caused all of it. You see, Salazar wanted an heir, and Enid had taken that away from him with a magic he despised and yet didn’t acknowledge. And of course, he wasn’t keen on Merlin for helping her.

“He was her husband, what did he expect?�

“No, he wasn’t,� Hermione corrected. “Priestesses were not allowed to marry.�

A silence preceded Hermione’s persistence. “He seemed determined to destroy not only her, but all of the druids, and he was successful in doing so as he neared her home. When she heard he was only a day’s journey away, she called her brethren together. She said she’d seen the future and the time had come to protect the Muggles. They worked together and created a very complicated spell that required a sacrifice. She wanted to save her child, to protect him from Salazar, and the only person she saw fit to sacrifice was herself. Then, the parchment was a bit vague. It says her body was used for the spell.�

“I don’t really want to think of what that means,� mumbled Ron while staring into his glass.

“It said that as she went, she threw herself into a ring she’d crafted for her lover, Merlin. She called it the ring of hope. Hope is the meaning of that symbol carved into your ring, Harry. It’s the same symbol that appeared on her chest. The woman in the painting was Enid. Enid means ‘spirit’ in that ancient language.

“So what happened?� Harry prodded.

“The druids gave the child to Merlin quickly after the sacrifice, seeing the danger the baby brought them. With the child were the ring and a spell. It was said the world sang when he put the ring on his finger. The spell was the one she gave her body for – the spell that would cast a protection over all those who were born without magic. He knew what he had to do. It took five days and four nights to prepare, but Salazar would soon find him, so Merlin had to work quickly. As he set up the space in which to work, his son walked to him for the first time. He gazed into the child’s eyes, and found his love for his son stronger than his love for the rest of humanity. When he began to cast the spell, he gave half of the blood protection to his son, and gave the rest to the masses of Muggles. The spell took so much out of him, that when Salazar arrived, he was quickly able to kill Merlin once and for all. Salazar searched for the baby, but could not find him.�

“Where could the baby have gone?�

“A hand-maiden assigned to watch the baby fled in terror once she saw the angry wizard approaching the castle. She ran down by the river bank and hid among the trees and rocks. When a potter stopped by the river for a bit of a drink, he spotted the frightened, incapacitated woman. When he couldn’t bring her to her senses, he took the baby home, and raised him as his own son. He took the last name Potter.�

A hush fell over them as they contemplated the ramifications of such a story. “So,� Harry cleared his throat, “is it true . . . then?�

Hermione stared uncomfortably deeply into his eyes. “It’s only a parchment telling a story, but tell me this.� She grabbed his hand and let her thumb roll over the ring. “Does the world sing when you wear this ring?�

“Only around Ginny,� he said blankly.

Hermione nodded. “I would have thought as much. You are the result of this ‘myth’, Harry. You are the descendant of a half-blood prince. The interesting part is that one half is Muggle magic, and the other half is wizard magic. The fact that your mother made the same sacrifice for you only adds to your protection. You haven’t had ‘dumb luck’ all these years. Instead, you’ve had a very ancient and powerful protection that stems from the love of a mother for her child.�

“How can Muggles be killed, and tortured like they were at the Quidditch World Cup, if they have this protection on them?� Ron inquired.

“Quite frankly, the protection is still there, but there are so many more people alive now than there were then. The protection is diluted. That’s my best guess. That, or it just needs a trigger to become active once again.�

A cool breeze wafted through the open windows of Hogwarts, inviting eyes both young and aged to indulge in nature’s masterpiece of the day. The sky wasn’t perfectly clear. Instead, wide, feathery clouds hovered overhead with hills and valleys raked along their lengths.

Ginny stood in stark contrast. Her eyes seemed determined to pound everyone into a two-dimensional image. Harry knew it couldn’t have been about him, because from the stairs leading to her dormitory to the door of the common room (where she was angrily thrusting parchment into her bag), she’d been grumbling like a torn engine.

“Ginny, what’s wrong?� He tried to keep the exasperation from his voice.

“Well, it’s nothing you ought to be concerned about. It’s not you that’s been losing her brothers to one thing or another all bleeding year.� She threw her bag over her shoulder, supremely unconcerned that Harry had to duck to avoid being hit.

“Is it Charlie?� he asked while walking her to breakfast. He wanted to be more worried, but somehow, the way she was behaving was making him want to laugh instead.

She wrinkled her nose sourly. “Bill.�

“What happened? He’s all right, right?�

“Pfft. No. He’s being completely selfish! Did he even bother to think about how I might feel, or how wrong it is? It’s ridiculous! And he wants to trot around, acting like nothing’s happened, but I know! I saw her writing him.�

“Who?�

Ginny shot a glare straight into his pupils. “McKee.�

Had a frog not chosen that exact time to launch itself in Harry’s throat, sending him into coughing spasms, he would have laughed. “Are you sure about this?� he asked disbelievingly.

“Yes!� she shouted, her face crumpling together to resemble a pumpkin. “I saw it! She was writing a note to him! And when I wrote a note to him asking about the other note, he sent . . . just . . . this completely different note back that didn’t answer anything!�

“When did this happen?� Harry was fighting the grin, but the grin was slowly winning.

“Oh . . . er . . . two or three weeks ago.’

He chortled. “And you’re just now getting upset about it?�

“I think she’s planning something. Perhaps she’s seducing him.�

Harry guffawed. “Bill can take care of himself, I’m sure . . .�

His girlfriend narrowed her eyes at him as they entered the clamoring Great Hall. “Not a word,� she said curtly before reaching the Gryffindor table.

It seemed they had arrived in conjunction with the morning owls. A rather large one flopped down in front of Hermione. She dug through her pickets for a Knut while Ron read a letter from Mrs. Weasley. “Oh, bad luck, Harry,� he muttered.

“What does it say?�


“’ . . . We might be a tad bit late, as we have to wait for Mundungus to arrive, and we all know how dependable he is. Also, Albus Dumbledore sent me an owl early this morning asking that Harry stay at Hogwarts for Easter holiday. It’s no use asking me why not, because that’s between Harry and Professor Dumbledore. Please, Ron, pass my love on to him, and let him know that . . .’�

Harry growled and stared foully at his plate. “Of course I have to stay here. Wouldn’t want Harry to enjoy any of his holidays, now would we?� he spat. He could have stewed raw meat in his abdomen, he was sure of it.

“Professor Dumbledore likely wants to squeeze in more Occlumency lessons.� Hermione was entirely too practical, he decided. “Speaking of Easter holiday, I’ll have to leave a bit early tomorrow. My mum has an early engagement, and I wouldn’t want her to miss it.�

“Ok,� they chorused.

‘Well, personally, I think Harry could use a bit of seriousness over holiday, because right now, everything is just hilarious to him.� She pursed her lips in a McGonagall-like manner.

“What’s funny?� Ron smirked, sure he would enjoy the answer.

“She thinks Bill and McKee have caught each other’s fancy.�

“Not each other. She wrote to him. He’s just being polite, of course.�

Ron snorted (and surprisingly, so did Hermione). “Bill and McKee? He’d have to be mad to want a Grendel like her!�

“She’s not a Grendel!�

Hermione cleared her throat loudly, eyeing a new arrival over Harry’s shoulder.

Luna Lovegood stared through Harry’s forehead. “The one with whom your truth resides, written by the hand of love, will find only company with hate and greed. All will be revealed in it’s time. The truth escapes tomorrow.�

The four merely stared, speechless, for a long moment.

“Oh, is that all, then?� blurted Ron, finally breaking the silence.

“Er . . . Luna? Are you all right?� he asked with an almost gentle tone.

She blinked and smiled lightly. “It’s quite a lovely day. My father says that bowtruckles enjoy swimming on days like this.�

Hermione wisely bit her tongue.

“Harry, it’s all right,� she mused aloud. “We do not guide Fate; it guides us.� Her scraggly hair slipped over her shoulder as she gave the silent friends a persistently content smile, and left.

“Well . . . that was . . . unexpected.� Thought lines scribbled themselves on Hermione’s forehead. Ron, however, was staring at Ginny and Harry.

“What?�

“Love, eh?� he chortled.

The couple blushed furiously, before making quick excuses and rushing off to their first classes with unparalleled enthusiasm.

---

Harry’s thoughts were plagued by Luna’s words all throughout his classes. Her voice didn’t really change like Trelawney’s did. It couldn’t have been a real prophecy. But what if it was? What was the bit about love? I don’t love Ginny, do I? If it was a real prophecy, something will happen tomorrow. Why would Luna have said it, unless it was real? What if it was a prophecy that doesn’t come true? Does that mean Professor Trelawney’s prediction was false?

His heart picked up a beat at the last thought. An escape from his stifling destiny was more than welcome.

---

He’d come to no conclusion even as the sunlight waned into twilight.

He and Ginny sat in the common room amidst noisy activity. Everyone was packing for the few days they’d get to spend with their families. For some, it was a sullen affair; they’d return to grieving relatives in dark clothing. For others, it was a blessing, and they meant to enjoy every spare minute they were given with their loved ones.

The Weasleys were somewhere in between; they were neither happy, nor sad. Ron was a bit fidgety about leaving Harry at Hogwarts. He said all the important bits happened when he was gone. Hermione, in order to relieve the air of anxiety, dragged him off to the library where they could contemplate the meaning of the ‘prophecy’. Harry had the sneaking suspicion that she was working of the formerly transfigured skin.

As for the prophecy, working on the assumption that it was legitimate, everyone was quite sure that Ginny would be the love and truth escaping Hogwarts.

Harry didn’t want to invest such faith in words coming from someone who believed in the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, but a nervous tension had managed to seat itself in his diaphragm nonetheless.

Even now, he was unable to control the flares that emitted from the region as he watched Ginny. She, like Harry, wasn’t doing anything in particular. She would stare at the portraits, or the fire, or have short conversations with passersby.

Finally, their eyes caught each other. She blew a hair out of her face, stood, and padded over to where Harry reclined on the couch. Ginny leaned against him and pulled a quilt off the arm of the sofa and over top her legs.

Harry was stunned. He coughed uncomfortably. “Er . . . Ginny?�

“Hmm?�

“What are you doing?�

“Sitting with my boyfriend,� she answered succinctly.

“Oh.� He found himself slouching, trying to regain his composure. One minute, he hadn’t properly kissed Ginny in months, and the next, she was on his lap. His mind began to drift until he heard the feminine rumbling of her voice.

“I lied earlier. I wish you could celebrate Easter with us.� She didn’t look at him, just rested her head against his shoulder (which he decided now was entirely too boney).

“I want to, but Dumbledore insists I stay. Here. Again. It seems like that’s all I hear anymore,� he complained grumpily.

She rolled onto her side, adjusting her weight so as to not cause internal bleeding. She gazed at the intricately woven African carpet at the foot of the sofa. “Harry? What if it is about me?� she asked somewhat reluctantly.

“I don’t know. I don’t even know that it’s a real prophecy.�

“It is.�

“How do you know?� Harry challenged.

“I read her.

“Then, if it is real,� he sighed, “something will happen very soon.�

“We have to stop it.�

“I know. It’s a matter of figuring out how.� He was horribly distracted by the vibration her voice created on his chest.

“Someone you . . . love . . . could . . . disappear.�

Unsure, he replied, “I don’t know if it means that.�

“’Written by the hand of love.’ It couldn’t mean anything except someone you love, because the one you love holds your truth.�

“Can we not talk about this? Luna said it, for god’s sake.�

“Well, considering your history with her, she wouldn’t normally be inclined to say something like that.� She pursed her lips. He didn’t even have to see it to know it.

“What is that supposed to mean?�

For a serious discussion, their tones and body language didn’t show it. The Gryffindors ambulating about thought nothing of the two on the sofa. They likely thought them to be discussing points of their favorite Muggle films.

Ginny’s finger had taken to swishing back and forth just atop the skin on his arm. He didn’t like it. He had a feeling he knew where this was going.

“Harry, do you love me?� she asked quietly while looking up, finally, at his face.

He groaned. “Why are you asking me this now? There are people everywhere.�

“Because . . . I have a right to know if I’ll be wandering around with Hate and Greed tomorrow.� Making light of the situation didn’t make Harry any more inclined to have this conversation.

He would have chuckled if he wasn’t so backed into a corner. He was silent for a moment. This is not good. This is definitely not a good question. “Erm . . .�

The fear must have shown in his eyes as she pulled one of those girl moves. This was the one where she searched Harry’s face with one of her pouts. “It’s okay,� she whispered hastily. “I already know.�

He was still trying to figure out exactly what she thought she knew when she snaked an arm around his neck and landed hard against his lips. Her body was horribly twisted until she straightened out, using her hip to balance himself. She pulled away just as suddenly, leaving Harry flabbergasted.

What is she playing at?

Harry completely forgot their previous discussion as she once again leaned back against him. His mind was running wild. It was as if the world was speeding up. The ever-present song in his head was positively shrieking. Then, he felt something curious beneath the covers. She was rubbing his big toe with hers! He snorted.

“What?� she mumbled humorously.

“Nothing.�

He lay his hand on her abdomen and she sweetly covered his hand with her own. It was a bit odd to feel something like a heartbeat in her stomach. A burn slowly smoldered in his chest. He looked around the common room that was slowly emptying out.

Harry looked at the mane of red hair. Perhaps it was pretty, but it was also clinging to him in an annoying sort of way. He brought his hand up and wiped the wisps away, his fingers coming to a rest on her collar bone.

She has bony shoulders too, he realized. Except . . . His eyes drifted a bit downward and inexplicably, his fingers followed, albeit much more slowly. She stiffened, but remained steadfastly silent. He wondered what she must be looking at.

He was amazed when, beneath the privacy of the quilt, his hand found a slope. He was infinitely uncomfortable and inquisitive at the same time. She breathed light, shallow breaths while his fingers walked across the cloth, skimming the surface nervously. With a mind of its own, his palm found a spot that teased a breath away from Ginny. He was feeling a type of anticipation that was entirely new to him.

Until the portrait door opened.

Ginny gasped, “Accio book!� It flew into her hands and she ripped it open, devouring intellectual material.

“Hey Ginny, Harry. What have you two been up to?� Ron, shockingly, didn’t seem to suspect a thing.

“Just the prophecy.� Ginny and Hermione grinned at one another.

“Erm . . . About that. I was thinking that maybe we could sleep down here tonight . . . just in case,� Harry ventured.

---

That night, the bright moon hid the shadows, and the one that held the truth was gone.

Harry awoke from a nightmare in a jarring jolt, but only remembered the terror he’d experienced. He looked frantically around for his friends, but found only rumpled blankets and pillows. “Thanks for waking me,� he grumbled, sure they must be just downstairs.

His trek down to the Great Hall was slightly delayed by a moving staircase and his protesting neck. He felt like he’d performed a miraculously long head stand the whole time he was asleep.

As he entered the Great Hall (thoroughly famished), his neck was the last thing on his mind. Harry’s hair prickled all along his arms and on his head. There didn’t seem to be anything wrong; students were chattering, happy to be on the Hogwarts express quite soon, and those at the staff table to talking amongst themselves. Still, a sense of foreboding hung over Harry, and Harry alone. Upon a second glance, he noticed his professors were whispering animatedly. Hurriedly. It carried over to his ears in a hiss that reminded him of a particular wizard with whom he shared a power or two.

He scraped his heels over to where Ron and Ginny enjoyed their meals, and smiled rather dully at the latter. He couldn’t shake the negative feeling, even in the presence of . . . he didn’t want to think about that.

“Ah, I see you’ve managed to open your eyelids, finally,� Ron said, allowing the mixed assortment of foods in his mouth to peep into view.

“Morning, Rip Van Winkle. You slept like a log. We tried to wake you, but it was impossible. We’d thought you’d taken a wicked sleeping draught.� She paused for a minute before sighing. “We weren’t even up in time though . . . to see Hermione off, I mean.�

“She had to have left before dawn. Really, that girl needs to straighten her priorities. Sleep is much more important than getting off early and leaving without saying goodbye,� he scowled.

“Well, she did tell us,� Harry said.

The students all fell quiet as Dumbledore stood from his chair at the center of the staff table. His mere presence was commanding and imperial. Harry was feeling ill, as if something terrible was going to happen. He recalled the same tone from the headmaster close to a year ago . . .

“All right, everyone. If you all are sufficiently full with the excellently prepared breakfast, please proceed to the Entrance Hall where Mr. Filch will check you off the holiday leave list.�

The Weasleys stood, and Harry met them. Ginny threw her arms about his neck and pulled him in closely. “Take care of yourself,� he whispered tenderly to her.

She only smiled halfway. “I do what I can.�

“Have you both got your mirrors?� he asked, keeping his tone low. Ron nodded quickly, but Ginny evaded Harry’s eyes. “Where is it then?�

“I gave it to someone who would need it, should anything happen to me.� Her chin was thrust out, challenging Harry to disagree with her decision.

He only stared at her for a minute, unthinkingly. He felt . . . unfeeling. If anything happened . . . Instead of mulling it over, he decided to let her go, trusting her in the hands of fate.

“Goodbye, Harry,� smiled Ron. “Stay out of trouble. If anything happens, call me in our way.�

He declined his head in agreement and waved his friends off.

---

Harry spent a majority of his day in a brave attempt to write an essay that was due immediately upon return from Easter Break. It was a lost cause. His mind kept drifting back to an unsettled emotion. He wasn’t even sure what was going on, as he felt excited, anxious, nervous and a vast sense of doom all at once. It was as if there was information right at the tips of his fingers, and he couldn’t see it. It was palpable.

Finally, he’d decided to roam out of the library, and find a place where he wouldn’t be watched. He wanted to try to find Sirius in the mirror again. He’d tried it many times in the past couple of months. At times, he could just hear his happy laughter. Other times, there was only a feeling of hope radiating from the burningly cool white light. And once – just once – three days ago, his godfather had shouted a crippling warning over the eons that separated them. Over the rumble of the voices, Harry heard, “She came! She’s coming! You know!�

It was immensely frustrating. It seemed as if, in the other dimension, Sirius couldn’t figure these things out. Cryptic hints did him absolutely no good. It probably didn’t help that Hermione tapped on Harry’s door at that exact moment. That should have felt like the simple answer Sirius was driving at, but instead, Harry only grew more uncomfortable.

It turned out to be a ‘shining bright hope’ moment for Sirius. Again.

Harry looked about him, and noticed he was once again at the threshold of the Great Hall. His nose twitched when he saw the only other student there, reading a book – McKee. Apparently, evil hung around on holidays as well. He ignored her presence entirely and stepped awkwardly toward the staff table, where all of his aged, experienced professors flitted about in conversations like common children. Harry was looking for answers, and somehow, these adults looked as if they had fewer than he did. As he stepped closer, he heard the tale end of a sentence escaping Professor McGonagall’s mouth. “But where, and how?�

Dumbledore put up a hand, silencing his coworkers. “Yes, Harry?�

“What’s happening? Something has happened, and no one is telling me about it, and I can’t tell what it is, so tell me.� Dumbledore favored him with a stern look. “Er . . . Professor.�

The elder seemed to sift through his thoughts, weighing his options. Each, he seemed to be throwing away as delicately as the last. Finally, he said, “I do not wish to involve you in this matter, Harry.�

“What matter?� he persisted in a brash tone.

There was a pregnant silence lurking around each professor. None wanted to say, he knew. Harry further surmised that he was likely the one person who should know whatever it was they were valiantly trying to hide. He made a mental checklist of anything and everything that could have happened. It was a sick activity that made his stomach churn.

Whatever hard line that was just gracing the face of the headmaster was now gone.

“Albus, are you sure that it –“ Professor McGonagall began.

“Yes, Minerva. It is . . . the only option.� He turned his face toward Harry once more. “The matter . . . of Hermione’s departure.�

No! Nothing happened to Hermione. She’s with her parents. “She left early. What of it?� His voice held more strength than his belief in the words. The tone had dropped along with what felt like all his innards. He suspected what would spew from Dumbledore’s mouth next. He wanted to run. He wanted to run away, and make it untrue.

“No, Harry. Hermione was taken.�

“How?� he roared, echoing McGonagall’s most recent question. “I thought this was the safest place in Britain!�

“’Arry, please – “ Hagrid chimed in ineffectually.

“When did this happen. When?� he demanded.

“Very early this morning.� There was a pronounced hitch in his voice. “Whilst you and the Weasleys slept next to one another.�

“No.�

“Yes.� It was barely a whisper, but it pounded in his mind.

“She can’t bleeding be gone! I had a prophecy! I should have understood it. I should have figured it out! She should have. She’s the bright one! It can’t happen again. I can’t let it happen again!� He was rambling to himself, eliciting concerned looks and pitiful stares.

“It’s not your fault, Harry. No one can be prepared for every ill thing that crosses our life’s path.�

“Then what good are prophecies? I had one. I could have! But I didn’t! I thought . . . I thought wrong. Shit! I should have known. I should have woken up. I should have stopped it before . . .�

“It does not help to speculate. We will do our best to bring her back, Harry.�

“No! This is my fault. I will bring her back! Where is she?�

“I can’t let you go, Harry.�

His eyes searched for a sympathetic soul behind that long wooden table that was on his side, that understood. His eyes caught Lupin’s. “You understand, don’t you? I have to go.� To his dismay, the shaggy hair of his guardian shook slowly and determinately.

His breath caught. “I . . .� he swallowed heavily, “I can’t . . .�

Harry had to look away from a pair of glassy eyes before he lost control. Hermione. She can’t be gone. She was a part of him. He looked pleadingly at the headmaster.

“We will bring her back to you, Harry. We will not fail you.�

---

“Quite a nice show back there, Potter,� an unwelcome voice drifted into Harry’s ear.

“What the hell do you want, McKee? I’m not in the mood.

“Really, just to give you applause for your ridiculous honesty. After all, you may have been able to actually do something if you’d kept your mouth shut.�

“Thanks for the information,� he spat. Now was not a time where he tried to be civil. He had more important things to deal with than a snotty little fifth year.

“Pull your head out of your arse and listen to me! I know what you should do – “

“And I can tell you what you should do. Shut it and stick it – “

“Watch your back!� she shouted at him, but strangely, the course edge to her voice was gone. He stared at her curiously with an annoyed twist to his features. “You bastard!�

Only when he realized the last bit wasn’t to him, did he spin around. The view was blurry and indecipherable, but he heard the horrid screech of a woman among claps of pounding hooves. Centaurs? he thought numbly. An incantation was shouted and Harry tried to counter, but without vision, his aim was horribly awry. He fell backwards and saw the mystic trees towering imperiously over him, giving way to a suffocating ton of fur. Stop, I can’t breathe!

---

Oh, is that all?

Ron’s earlier sarcastic comment was the first thought to arrive in Harry’s brain upon awaking. He wasn’t quite sure, immediately, what he was seeing. After all, the darkness enveloped him wholly. It was when he banged his head on hard wood that it became clear to him. They’ve locked me in a box! The answer, at least, was simple enough. He pulled out his wand and muttered the incantation to blast the box apart, but to no avail. “Oh god,� he muttered in awe of his predicament.

The centaurs. Had Voldemort really turned them to the dark side? What could they have offered? What could they have offered and made it seem like they weren’t offering anything, but really giving them something they wanted?

Only one thought steeled his gut, and brought his mind into focus. Only one thought made him sure he had to press on. Hermione. They would bring him to her, he was sure. Then it would be a fair trade. Someone they wanted, they could have, and Hermione would be free.

But why do they want her? Did they really go through all that trouble just to get me? That doesn’t make any sense. What would they want her for?�

He unwittingly kicked hard at the back of the box, sending streaks of pain up his legs. A panic seized his gut as he realized how confined he was. There wasn’t room for movement. He was stuck. He began to breathe quickly through his nose, fearing suffocation.

Suddenly, something large feel on the wood centimeters above his wide eyes. “Wittle Hawwy Potter. You’ll want to make sure to breath great big breaths. You might as well enjoy the air while you have it. Oh, don’t worry, I can’t bring you to the dark lord, dead. That would defeat the purpose. I’m monitoring you,� she whispered through a gap in the wooden planks. “Don’t try any – “

Harry sent his knee hard into the top of the box, eliciting a cackle from Bellatrix. “We’ve . . . magically enhanced your humble abode there. You’re not getting out.�

“What’s the matter, Bella? Are you afraid I’ll beat you in a duel?� He decided that playing brave may well be his best bet.

“Your godfather was a miserable dueler, and you’re worthless in many more spectacular way than he was. But really, I should have made that death last longer. Perhaps I should have slowed it down, and really made sure you had a good look at his face every bit of the way down.�

Harry beat his rage out on his surroundings, not in an effort to get out, really, but to release his rage at her. She was a despicable excuse for life.

“Sit tight, little one. It’s rather clever to have you riding through the country side by Muggle transport. Who would suspect?�

“You’re not all that bright, are you?� Harry shouted from his muffled tomb. “With a portkey, at least no one would see. Why don’t you just get on with it?�

She leaned close to the wood; Harry could feel her proximity. Her lips had to be touching the box top. “Oh, no,� she purred. “The irony is simply too wonderful. There’s also a lovely ceremony for your little girlfriend being held right at this moment. We wouldn’t want to interrupt.� She snickered cruelly. “And you need time to think about what a bad little boy you’ve been.�

He heard the creaks and groans of the planks as she crawled off. But that wasn’t all the noise he was hearing. He heard a harsh whisper. Someone was calling his name.

It was only then he felt the piercing cold against his robes. In an inside pocket lay his mirror. He’d kept it with him just in case something happened. Across distance, Harry wasn’t going to let anything happen . . . or he didn’t plan on letting anything happen. A lot of good that did.

He pulled it out slowly, and found Ron’s pinched face looking at him.

Hope. There it was. He felt it. Perhaps he wasn’t alone.

“Harry. Tell us where you are!�

“I don’t know . . . I’m in some kind of box. Wood. Planks.�

“Harry,� he heard Ginny in the background, “we need a clue. Anything! Hurry!�

Her panic pained him and only heightened his own.

“It . . . I don’t know!,� he hissed. “It smells a bit like feet . . . no, fish! It smells like fish!�

“Oh my gosh, Ron. Somewhere by the sea . . .� The sound faded in and out, and he couldn’t catch a word.

“Ron! Watch out for the centaurs! Watch – “ but the mirror went dark. So did the small flame of hope Harry was carrying. It was the very one that used to tell him everything would turn out all right.