“Do try and take it easy, Mr. Potter.” Madam Pomfrey admonished her patient for the final time, somewhat reluctant to let him go.
“Yes Ma’m.” Harry replied dutifully, then hoisted the bulging book bag over his shoulder and walked out of the infirmary.
Happy to be back within the student population, he walked the torch-lit, semi-empty corridors and various stairwells up to Gryffindor tower, he had spent a week and one day in the hospital wing.
Madam Pomfrey refused to let him go until this evening, right before curfew, to make sure that he did not find his way into trouble too quickly after being released. ‘Straight to bed and rest.’ she had told him so many times over the last hour that he could still hear her instructions echoing in his mind.
Before he knew it, his legs had carried him to the familiar portrait of ‘The Fat Lady’ and the awaiting common room where he had hoped to find Ron, Hermione, and Ginny in their usual spots around the fireplace.
“Noodle brains.” He said dully to the ample gatekeeper.
“Ah-hem,” The Fat Lady cleared her throat knowingly. “From what I’ve heard, you’ve got one.”
“Uh-huh.” Harry answered, anxious with what lies ahead of him than to be needled by the portrait.
“Well, you’re no fun.” She huffed looking very displeased, her plump hands on her wide hips.
“Sorry, not tonight.” He shrugged just before the frame swung open.
Once in the common room, a familiar voice met him.
“Hi, Harry, glad you’re back.” Neville looked up from his table, quill in hand, parchments strewn here and there with various books propped up and stacked against each other.
“Thanks Neville.” Harry replied gratefully before taking a quick look around the room.
Noticing his search, Neville answered his unasked question. “Ron and Hermione are on prefect duties.”
“Oh yeah, its Sunday night. They told me, I just forgot.” Harry thanked Neville for the reminder.
“Know the feeling.” Neville laughed a little and returned to his work.
Harry continued to make his way to the staircase leading to boys’ dormitories when he noticed a couple sitting on a couch on the far side of the room. His heart fell as he saw Ginny and Dean in what could be an intimate discussion, tucked away from everyone else. Midway up the stairs he stopped and watched them for a moment, taking note of their body language, hoping that it would reveal the topic of their conversation. Thinking that Ginny had seen him and slightly embarrassed that he had been caught, he sought the solitary confines of his four-poster.
Everything looked they way it should be as he entered the sixth year dorm, not that he was expecting anything different, but being cooped up in the orderly, antiseptic hospital wing made him miss the untidy, unruly, habitat of teenage boys. Ron’s bed was strewn with various items; robes, wrappers, socks, and sheets detailing Quidditch plays he had been developing. Seamus’ posters of his favorite teams flashed vividly on the walls surrounding his bed, Dean’s robes hung from atop the left post, and Neville’s pride and joy looked as unhealthy as ever, growing large tumor-like pustules as it basked in the dim moonlight.
Kicking off his trainers, Harry let his bag slide off his shoulder and onto his trunk, then climbed into his awaiting bed. He wasn’t tired by any means, nor was he following his orders to rest, he had done quite enough of that to be sure. Instead, he dangerously let his mind wonder, gravitating, spiraling towards a fiery redhead.
Throughout the week, Ginny would come to visit him every chance she got. She had brought him breakfast every morning, lunch in the afternoons, and would spend the dinner hour dining with him instead of the Gryffindor table. Sometimes after dinner they would just talk or study together. Harry liked to help her out when she looked stuck on a particular subject, but often thought she did it only to spend more time talking than actual studying. Like before, during their daily afternoon walks around the Burrow, it didn’t matter what the topic of conversation was. There was an easiness about Ginny. Ron and Hermione joined them occasionally but she had been his one constant, his one comfort, and the one thing that kept him from going completely crazy during his mandatory incarceration in the infirmary.
Earlier, when Ginny came for lunch, she told him that she would not be back until tomorrow. Wishing that he didn’t, he now knew why she had left him, Dean. Trying not to second guess himself or Ginny, he decided that he would be content with the time they did have together and the knowledge that whomever she chose to date, to love, he would always be connected to her in ways that others couldn’t. ‘It’s not like us.’ He reminded himself of her own words.
“Hey!” Ron had walked through the door, “You’re back.”
“I’m back.” Harry replied and swung his legs around to edge of the bed to sit upright.
“Did you escape?” Ron snickered and tossed off his robe.
“Yeah, climbed out the window when she wasn’t looking.” Harry returned.
“Good for you, although, you could have done it earlier you know.” Ron rifled through the mess on his bed, trying to organize it all. “Quidditch practice on Friday if you’re up to it. It’s the last one we’ll have before our match against Ravenclaw.”
“If I can climb out of windows, I can catch a snitch.” Harry reached out and watched his fingers curl around an imaginary snitch in front of him. “I’ll be there.”
“Are you sure?” Ron asked seriously, his left eyebrow dangerously cocked, “I know what you’re recovering from so I’m okay with it if you want to sit this one out.”
“Sit this one out? Are you kidding?” Harry retorted, “Not on your life.”
“Look, Harry, I’m just saying that-“ Ron tried to explain better.
“It’s okay, I’m fine... So what are your plans Captian?” Harry inclined his head towards the parchments Ron held in his hand.
“Oh, it’s for the Chasers.” Ron handed the notes to him, “Ginny and Katie could pair off, everyone knows they work great together, leaving Dennis open for an attack, nobody will expect him.”
“Looks good, do you think he can pull it off?” Harry thumbed through the rest of the papers. It was obvious to him that Ron had developed a couple of difficult, yet ingenious plays that were bound to keep Ravenclaw or any other team for that matter, on their toes.
“I think so, that’s why we’re having an extra long practice on Friday.” Ron swept off the remaining items littering his bed into the rubbish bin.
There was a knock at the door and the sound of Ginny filtered through the cracks, “Are you decent?”
“No.” Ron called back sarcastically, “We’re all starkers in here!”
“Whatever.” Ginny opened the door and let herself in. Harry tensed unexpectedly as he caught sight of her.
“What are you up to?” She asked, taking a seat on Ron’s restored bed.
“Just going over Quidditch plans for Saturday’s game.” Ron answered as Harry handed her the diagrams, careful not to look at her.
She glanced them over briefly before setting them back down on Ron’s bed. “It’ll work.”
“What do you want, Ginny?” Ron asked politely, curious for her reason to venture up to the dormitory as he lobbed mismatched pairs of socks into his trunk from across the room.
“I just came to give Harry back his wand.” Ginny said quietly and held out her hand, his wand balanced across her open palm. “Dumbledore asked me to give this to you.”
Forgetting that he did not have it in his possession, he slowly reached out to take it from her.
“Lupin picked it up in the alley and gave it to Dumbledore for safe keeping. He gave it to me after dinner tonight to return to you.” Ginny shrugged, “I suppose he thought it was safe with me.”
Harry looked over his wand, contemplating the last time he had used it.
“He also said that your lessons with him are cancelled this week, but he’d like to meet with the both of us sometime over the weekend.” Ginny told his bowed head.
“Anyway, I’ll see you two later.” Subdued, Ginny got up and made to leave. Harry kept his eyes lowered to his wand, pretending to inspect it further while his arms broke out in tiny, prickly goosebumps.
“You okay, Ginny?” Ron asked before she reached the door.
“Yeah, I’m fine. See you tomorrow.” She said a little too brightly.
“Thanks, Ginny.” Harry was able to say before she closed the door behind her, catching a brief, weighted smile.
However much he hated to admit it, he was thankful that Hermione had taken the time to inform him of what he was missing in class. Whenever he was not enjoying Ginny’s company, he had plenty of time to fulfill the coursework, which paid off now that he was back in the thick of it.
Tuesday’s lesson in Care of Magical creatures was invigorating to say the least. With the temperature dropping as winter approached, Hagrid thought the butterflies could use the fresh air and the freedom to roam outside their crate. Not only had they doubled in size again, they could excrete enough ice to cover a large tree branch or lay down a thick patch on the grass big enough to slip on if you weren’t careful. The first half of class was spent running around in an effort to try and contain them, students leaping over stretches of ice and ducking for cover to keep them from landing on their heads. The second half was spent running around in an effort to herd them back into their crate, leaping over stretches of ice and ducking for cover to keep them from landing on their heads. Needless to say, by the time class was over everyone was out of breath and chipping ice off their cloaks.
“First its fire from Blast-Ended Skrewts and now its ice with those bloody butterflies.” Harry and Hermione laughed at Ron’s frustrated remark as the trio made their way back up to the castle for lunch, crunching on the frost covered grass.
Professor Flitwick had started lessons on Defensive charms. More specifically, charming objects to act as protection. Harry thought of last June when Dumbledore had charmed the statue of the centaur to shield him from Voldemort’s curse. It seemed more like a charm better taught in Defense Against The Dark Arts, but was interested in the subject matter regardless of who was teaching it. For once, Harry didn’t mind the two-foot long essay that was assigned to them.
Staurn, Ivy, Alun, Gladis, and Ford, the recent Slytherin additions to the D.A., had caught up with him, Ron, and Hermione, outside the Great Hall after lunch. Hermione seem to be friendlier with Ivy, while Ron just kept quiet and a hard look on his face. They asked when the next meeting was going to be held and he told them that they had practiced what they learned during the last few meetings. Harry informed them that he didn’t know and that it would probably get started again after the holidays.
By mid-week, Harry was finding his stride. He and Ron had spent their personal study time actually studying, to which Hermione was beaming. Harry thought that she was proud of herself, all of her nagging and organizational gifts were finally producing results. Truth be told, both of them wanted to make sure that nothing would stand in the way of Quidditch and that the assigned reading actually interested them.
Harry did get to spend more time with Ginny, however, it wasn’t the personal one on one time like they had in the hospital wing. Every once and awhile he would steal a glance at meals, his eyes only lingering until she would look up from her plate or in his direction. Whenever he would get caught, which happened quite frequently, she would smile and go back to whatever it was she was doing. Evenings in the common room faired about the same results. Harry would position himself next to the fire so that he could watch her over Ron or Hermione’s shoulders. It was less obvious, he felt, it would be perfectly natural to look at someone when they’re speaking to you. Sometimes she would join them by the fireside, sitting on the opposite end of the couch that Harry occupied. It was funny really, they had been so close before, but now an almost tangible barrier cropped up between them; a shy, nervous, intoxicating barrier.
Thursday brought with it another roaring chorus of ‘Constant Vigilance’ from Professor Mad-Eye. Being aware of Moody’s tactics, the class settled down into their seats immediately upon entering the chamber. Harry looked to the front of the room where the ex-Auror was ready and waiting for them, calling the class to attention before the final bell.
“Good afternoon,” He growled, magiked the heavy wooden door shut, and then surveyed the class with both his magical and normal eyes. “I hope each and every one of you have been on your guard.”
Harry, Ron, and Hermione nodded in unison with the rest of the class. However, Harry thought that his ‘Constant Vigilance’ wasn’t good enough considering that he was unable to stop Malfoy.
“Today we will be discussing the techniques used to discover whether or not someone is under the influence of the Imperious curse, under the morphing effects of the Polyjuice Potion, and the tell-tale signs that someone might have had their memories modified or obliviated.”
“Should’ve had that lesson a month ago.” Ron whispered out the side of his mouth to Harry.
“Let’s just hope someone doesn’t figure that last bit out.” Hermione poked Ron under the desk and shifted her eyes towards the back of Dean’s head who was sitting a few tables ahead of them.
Harry had is sight and mind on other matters. Malfoy was seated behind them in the far corner of the class, he wore an expression of creditable smugness that lit a fire in the pit of Harry’s stomach, re-heating his anger for the arrogant, self-serving, sneering blonde. It wasn’t the first time Harry had seen him this week, but it was the first time Malfoy showed any sign of his usual behavior. Draco had been avoiding them as much as possible and they avoided him likewise.
“Let’s start with Memory Modifications.” Moody began to maneuver through the students as he talked. The ‘clink’ of his every other step had a tendency to drive the point home with his students. It was a style of teaching that was his very own and which the students came to expect.
After an hour and fifty-seven minutes, the only thing that Harry had learned was to follow your gut instincts. It would have proven effective if he and Ron had done just that. They both knew that something was slightly different that day. They knew that Dean, or who they assumed was Dean, was up to no good. But on the other hand, following what he thought was gut instincts, had gotten himself and the countless lives other people in unnecessary danger. By following those same instincts, he had unknowingly led to Sirius to his death.
Friday had arrived at last, bringing with it a double dose of Snape. Just as he had expected, Snape was as foul as ever towards him. But Harry did have one morsel of satisfaction, he had completed the essay on rare, complex venom antidotes.
“I see that you’ve been informed of your missed lessons.” Snape walked along his desk, dragging his long fingertips along the surface behind him. “You have Miss Granger to thank for it, I presume.”
“Yes, Sir.” Harry answered curtly, watching him ooze in front of him.
Snape stopped in his tracks in front of Harry and held out his hand. “Let’s see it then, Potter.”
Harry defiantly handed over his essay. “Sir.”
The Potions Master’s beady black eyes darted quickly back and forth over the parchment.
“This seems to be in order. However, you will need to brew one of these antidotes and turn in a sample in order to finish the assignment.” Snape thrust the essay back to him. “This is worth nothing on its own and very little with a potion.”
“Yes, Sir.” Harry said as calmly as possible. He knew that showing any sign of anger would only play into Snape’s hands, giving him victory.
“ I’m sure that I can find a convenient time for you to come in and make it up,” His lips thinned into a malicious smile. “Sometime tomorrow... mid-morning, perhaps?”
“Yes, Sir.” Harry replied to his back as he strode away.
“At least he didn’t completely dismiss it.” Hermione consoled him as the climbed the stairwell out of the dungeons. “It’s not like he hasn’t vanished your work before.”
“Yeah, you could’ve missed Quidditch.” Ron added. “A loss to Ravenclaw would move Slytherin up in the overall standings.”
“I have no doubt that it’s what he wanted.” Harry admitted, “But I don’t think he could have made me, it’s not like a detention, McGonagall would have put her foot down.”
When they reached the main hall, Ron and Hermione started to make their way to the left and the seventh floor, going the opposite direction of Gryffindor tower. Harry made to follow, but Ron stopped and turned back.
“Sorry, not this time, mate.” Ron looked him in the eyes, “I’m sure Dumbledore will tell you all about it when he meets with you and Ginny.”
“Oh, yeah. No problem.” Harry shrugged off the disappointment that he wouldn’t be able to join them, but understood his reasons.
“Quidditch practice in an hour.” Ron took off against the flow of underclassmen to catch up with Hermione.
“Dennis!” Ron yelled from his broom, thirty feet in the air.
“What!” The younger Creevey screamed back, his eyes on Ron, his red cheeks contrasting with his pale face.
“You need to do this! Watch me!” Ron yelled back and then performed an impressive maneuver on his broom, a spiraling dive with a sharp upturn at the bottom before darting towards the goal posts. Harry recognized the play from the diagrams.
‘This is the way to end a week.’ Harry thought as he circled the pitch for the umpteenth time, keeping one eye open for the snitch, the other on Ginny.
He reveled in the freedom his broom brought, the crisp late-November air biting at his nose and ears as he pushed his Firebolt forward. It had been a busy week and though he wasn’t physically in pain or had any aches to complain about, he did feel drained. Ron had told him not to over do it, that he should rest up for the match, but Harry couldn’t help the excitement and joy he felt for flying.
Hovering above his practicing teammates, Harry spotted the Snitch just above the ground near the middle of the pitch. He pushed the nose of his Firebolt down and began his dive, the thrill of it coursing through him as he sped towards the ground, rapidly weaving in and out between the Chasers, Beaters, and Ron.
He lost his concentration on the tiny golden ball, his heart ready to jump out of his chest, Harry barely pulled up in time to miss hitting the frozen ground. Veering wildly, he momentarily lost control of his broom and soared upwards out past the stadium.
Once he came to a complete stop, hanging motionless above the lawn, he took a moment to gather his wits and calm himself down. Harry had to work for every long, steady breath, the freezing air stabbed sharply in his chest with every intake. His arms and legs felt numb, he could feel each pulse of his veins pushing blood into them, persuading them to regain their strength.
Harry started to descend, his broom sinking lower and lower in the clear afternoon sky. He slumped forward, forcing air into his lungs, gripping the handle in an effort to control his fall.
“Harry!” Ginny’s urgent filled voice met his ears.
“Ginny.” Weakly he called back, a violent spinning sensation filled his head.
“Here, hang on!” Ginny had pulled up along side him, matched his rate of descent and reached out for the handle, effectively taking control.
The two continued to slip out of the sky before landing with a soft thud on the frosty grass. Harry had fallen over on his side, propping himself up on his bent arm with what little energy he had left.
“Ginny?” Harry said between gasps, his eyes pleading for an explanation as to what was happening to him.
She had crawled across the brooms on her hands and knees to get to him. Ginny bit between her teeth the leather glove straps fastened around her wrist and wretched her hand free of it before she reached out to touch the side of his face. Immediately the spinning stopped, she had brought him to center.
“Harry, concentrate.” Ginny told him sharply, taking charge of the situation.
“Ginny, what?” His eyes widened in realization of what she was about to do. “No!”
“Harry, just concentrate.” Her eyes looked deep into his.
“Ginny, we can’t-” His protest was cut short.
“Shh, close your eyes.” She whispered, moving closer to him, both of her hands now on his cheeks, the tip of her forehead met with his. “Shh ...”
He obeyed and opened himself to her, the brilliance that Ginny gave filled him. He could feel her strength, the power of her emotions met with his, rising slightly before everything melted away, breaking the connection. It had ended just as fast as it had started.
Slowly opening his green eyes, he met her chocolate brown ones. She continued to cradle his face, her forehead still resting on his. The tips of their noses meeting in the middle as the warmth of their breath swirled together between them. In that moment, it was all he could do to stop himself from kissing her. Ginny’s eyes told him that she was struggling with the same battle. This was much too close and Dean stood in his way.
“Harry!” Ron yelled as he touched down a few feet away.
Abruptly pulling themselves away from each other, he looked up at his best mate as he ran towards them.
“You alright?” A little out of breath, Ron crouched down on his heels to their level, glancing nervously between the two of them.
“Yeah, I’m alright.” Harry got up off his forearm. “I just lost control, that’s all.”
Ron looked at him skeptically then turned to Ginny. “You had something to do with this, didn’t you?”
“She just helped me.” Harry defended her. “She didn’t cause anything.”
“I didn’t say she did.” Ron did not turn away from Ginny. “You bonded again, didn’t you?”
“Yes, we did.” Ginny answered back, “He needed my help, so I gave it.”
“Dumbledore told-“ Ron whispered scathingly.
“I’m well aware of what Dumbledore said.” Ginny shot back in the same hushed tone. “I did what needed to be done, Ron.”
“Look,” Harry straightened himself, he tried to diffuse the sibling spat, “She’s fine- I’m fine- No harm done.”
“No harm done?” Ron had an expression of controlled fury as the rest of his face lit to match his scarlet cheeks. “You don’t know what you’re doing, the both of you. Don’t you understand?”
“As a matter of fact, we don’t.” Ginny’s temper rising to match his. “Why don’t you tell us!”
“I’m not supposed to, Ginny, and you know that.” Ron stood up and swallowed his anger whole. Noticing that the rest of the team kept their distance and was carrying on with practice without them, he ran his hand through his hair and sighed. “Get Harry to back to the hospital wing - yes, you’re going back- and have Madam Pomfrey check you over too.”
“Fine.” Ginny rolled onto her feet.
Ron held out his hand and helped is sister up. “I mean it, Ginny. I’m not kidding.”
“I know.” She conceded and picked up her glove and the brooms off the ground.
“Come on.” Ron said, holding his arm out again, this time to Harry.
He reached for Ron’s offered arm, both boys grabbing tightly just below the elbow. Ron tugged and took a step back, bring Harry to his feet.
“You’re not as bad off as last time?” Ron asked now that Harry was standing firmly on his own.
“I feel great,” Harry shrugged and took his Firebolt from Ginny. “In fact it’s the best I’ve felt in two weeks.”
“You’re still going.” Ron jerked his head up to the castle. “I’ve got to wrap things up here first, but I’ll catch up with you two later.”
They watched as Ron turned back for his Cleansweep.
“Thanks, Ron.” Ginny was sincere.
“Just... just don’t to it again.” Ron straddled his broom and kicked off towards the pitch.
Forty-five minutes later, Harry and Ginny were released from the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey was ill tempered to see the two of them back and muttered her disapproval under her breath while she examined them for injuries, both physical and magical. She demanded to know why they felt the need to fly, telling Harry repeatedly that he didn’t have the strength for it, and the exact details of what had happened on the pitch. Harry started the story, but Ginny finished it. It was her choice not to divulge the fact that she had helped him.
Unsatisfied with their tale, the Healer told them that she was going to inform the Headmaster straight away and that she strongly advised them not to participate in tomorrow’s match. The best either one of them could do was to silently nod in agreement, preventing another onslaught and exasperating the situation.
“I suppose we better get cleaned up before dinner?” Harry held the door open for Ginny and let her pass through.
“Yeah, a nice hot shower would be great. I think my toes are frozen.” Ginny stopped to wait for Harry, wiggling her toes through her boots.
“Ginny?” Harry asked, finally catching up with her.
“Yeah?” She fell in step with him.
“Why did you risk it?” He kept his eyes straight ahead, “I mean, not that I’m not grateful, but...”
“It was the only thing I could think of. I just knew I could do it- we could do it.” Ginny shrugged.
They quietly wound their way through the corridors, taking a short cut to bypass the crowd outside the Great Hall.
“Dumbledore won’t be happy.” He said, rounding onto the final staircase.
“He’ll understand.” Ginny was confident. “It can’t be as bad as Ron says it is. Hermione used the word ‘unfavorable’.”
“Ginny, I don’t want you to get hurt, especially because of me.” They had reached the Fat Lady. “Noodle brains.”
“It doesn’t matter.” The door swung open and Ginny quickly stepped through. “See you at dinner, Potter.”
Harry was left standing alone at the threshold, trying to figure out what had just happened, why she had left him so quickly and why it didn’t matter.
“Get a move on!” The Fat Lady hollered. “I can’t stay open all night!”
“Bloody Hell!” Harry woke at Ron’s hushed exclamations. “This isn’t good.”
“What isn’t good?” Harry sat up and threw back the curtains of his four-poster.
“Look at this, will you. It’s a blizzard out there.” He moved out of the way so that Harry could see out the window.
“Ah, maybe it’s a good thing.” Harry stretched and put on his glasses. “Seeing how I’m not supposed to be able to play and all.”
“I guess you’re right. Here’s hoping Hooch calls it a game and we can reschedule after the holidays.” Thoroughly discouraged, Ron let the crimson velvet curtain fall back into place. “Creevey needs the extra practice anyway.”
Sure enough, Dumbledore announced to the low rumble of verbal disappointment, that today’s match had indeed been cancelled. The enchanted sky above them, however, showed no sign of letting up. The team’s house tables talked up their sides briefly before dismissing the game all together. Ron was being consoled by Hermione, who assured him that it was for the best and agreed to join him the Gryffindor verses Ravenclaw snowball fight that was to take place in the west courtyard later that afternoon, provided the weather let up a bit. Harry looked to Ginny, who was seated directly across from him and away from Dean, she was buttering a piece of toast, minding her own business.
They spent most of the morning lazing around the common room. The fires were fully stoked and made the room quite pleasant to be in as the blizzard raged on outside. Some students, mostly fifth years that included Ginny, had taken the extra time to study, but this time even Hermione had wasted the hours away. She kicked her legs up over the arm of her favorite chair and was reading The Quibbler upside-down like the many times they had seen Luna do. Harry had challenged Ron to a fierce game of Wizards Chess at a nearby table, which ended up being a ‘best of three’ tournament. Harry still wasn’t as skilled as Ron when it came to the checkered board, but thought he was improving.
Noon rolled around and the occupants of the common room became restless. Ron, having won all three games, (they decided to play the third anyway) got up to put the board and chess pieces away, flicking the back of Hermione’s paper with his finger.
“Lunch!” He smirked at her as he walked past. “Don’t tell me you’re believing all that rubbish.”
“Of course not.” Hermione folded the publication, tossed it onto the end table and cheekily stated. “I felt like expanding my horizons, broadening my mind! You should try it sometime.”
Ron snorted and playfully pushed her out of the chair on his return trip, she slipped down onto the floor and proceeded to swat at him as he taunted her.
Harry enjoyed watching the interaction between his two best friends. He plopped back down on the couch, stretching out its full length and releasing a great sigh of contentment.
“Coming, Harry?” Hermione laughed, Ron was mimicking her every move.
“I’ll be down in a minute.” He shooed them away, “Go ahead.”
It wasn’t long before the common room had dwindled in numbers. Ginny was still flipping between books with one hand, the other held her quill to the parchment, the dull tip grounding out words. Every once in awhile she would impulsively tuck loose strands of hair behind her ear, the same locks kept falling forward every time she tilted her head towards the parchment to recheck what she had written moments before. He found her constant battle endearing, one of the many little nuances he noticed about her lately.
Harry walked over to her and closed all the books one by one. “Come on, Ginny. I’ll help you with that later.”
She took a deep breath, ran her hands through her hair before twisting, pulling the long red sheets up off her neck before letting her arms fall limply to the sides as she exhaled.
“Okay. I could use the break.” She slid her chair out from the table.
Harry started to pile the books into her bag and cap the inkbottle while she organized and rolled her notes.
“Be back in a few.” She said, taking her things up to the girls’ dormitories.
“No hurry.” Harry said patiently, waiting for her at the foot of the stairs, having a seat on the second step.
“Okay, I’m ready.” She said, jaunting back down, Harry stood up to meet her.
“Miss Weasley.” Harry held his arm out, reminiscent of their summer walks. “Care to join me for a spot of lunch?”
“Of course, Mr. Potter.” Batting her eyes, Ginny wrapped her arm around his. “Lead the way.”
“Harry, Miss Weasley.” Dumbledore happily greeted them as they walked into his office. “I see that you got my message.”
“Yes, Sir, Professor Snape told us.” Ginny smiled at took the seat the Headmaster had pulled out for her.
“Professor Snape has agreed to let you brew your make-up potion on Monday afternoon, Harry,” Dumbledore walked around the desk to take his seat, brushing back his dark purple robes. “so that we could have our little chat this afternoon.”
“Oh, okay.” Harry took the seat next to Ginny, the very same chair he usually sat in. He noticed Ginny looking at him, her eyebrows raised, she would be expecting the whole story later.
“I’ve been informed that you two have connected again. Is this correct?” His clear blue eyes urged them to answer.
“I was- we were at practice and-“ Harry stuttered, not knowing where or how to start.
“I did it, Headmaster.” Ginny cut to the chase. “He needed my help.”
“How long did it last?” Dumbledore leaned back into his chintz chair, folding his long fingers together and resting them on his desk. He neither displayed anger or happiness at the confession.
“Not very long.” Harry’s words were unexpectedly rushed. “It wasn’t very long at all.”
“No, it wasn’t.” Ginny agreed. “I stopped it when I felt I needed to.”
Dumbledore continued to look unfazed. “How is it that you knew, Miss Weasley, when to break the connection?”
“I just felt it.” She shrugged, laying her hands loosely in her lap. “It’s like pouring water into a glass, you can see when it’s full.”
“That’s a very good analogy.” Dumbledore, for the first time, looked impressed. “Harry, do you understand what she’s describing?”
“I think so.” Harry looked to Ginny, reading her expression before returning to Dumbledore. “It felt like we were... I dunno, equal... balanced maybe?”
“Sir?” Ginny asked tentatively, disrupting Dumbledore’s thoughts. “Sir, Ron said that our bond, or whatever it is, could be bad. Is he right?”
“What is it, exactly?” Harry wanted answers too. “Do you know?”
Dumbledore leaned forward in his chair and straightened his spectacles. “I believe we understand what is happening between the two of you, although it’s more than one single connection and therefore more than one explanation is needed.”
“You have to understand that this is ancient magic and not very many people can do what you two have accomplished, altogether or separately. It’s such a rarity that information is hard to find. You’re quite a specific case.” Dumbledore curled is finger at tugged gently at his beard.
“I am aware of an ancient bond that could have been forged between you. It’s called Vita Potestas. Essentially, it means that, as you have used to your advantage, are able to transfer magical power to another person. I believe that Harry was the first to do this, giving you a large portion of his magical reservoir that afternoon in the alley.” Dumbledore gazed at Harry, expecting him to speak.
“I just wanted to give her my strength, but I didn’t expect it to actually happen.” He admitted.
“Yesterday afternoon, Miss Weasley returned the favor.” He now turned to Ginny who nodded in agreement.
“I don’t see how this is a bad thing?” Ginny spoke up. “We’re both okay now.”
“It could be very bad indeed, just as Mr. Weasley has warned the two of you.” Dumbledore’s countenanced shifted, he was very serious. “It is only our magical abilities that make the difference between us Wizards and Muggles. If either one of you were to give too much, to overflow the glass by entirely, completely emptying another, you could potentially loose all magical ability within yourself and would be unable to regain it.”
“So we’d be a Muggle then?” Ginny asked, making sure that she was following him correcting.
Dumbledore nodded slowly, “Not quite, Miss Weasley, but yes- you would have no power to perform magic.”
“A Squib?” Harry asked, even Squibs could perform minor bits of magic.
“More or less. The fact is we don’t know for sure, no one has ever lived to long enough after such a transfer.”
“You mean people have... you know, all of it?” Ginny asked, she seemed to be slightly bothered with the intensity of the subject.
“It happened once, and only once.” Dumbledore answered gravely, “However, it resulted in the death of both parties.”
“Why did the person receiving the power die?” Harry was confused as to how that could happen.
“My guess is that it was too much.” Dumbledore answered as honestly as he could. “He lived moments longer than his Giver had, but perished just as she did in the end.”
Ginny and Harry sat motionless, silently understanding the full ramifications of what they had done, what they could have done. He had no idea that he could have potentially killed Ginny, he would never willingly hurt her. All he wanted to do was help.
After a few minutes, Dumbledore cleared his throat, jarring them from their thoughts.
“Sir?” Harry asked.
“Yes, Harry.”
“What other ways are Ginny and I connected?”
“There are many gifts that you and Ginny share, like the ability to perform a type of Legilimens for instance. Both of you have told me that you are able to reach each others minds, to communicate by emotions or senses more than words, I’m guessing.”
“How did all of this happen? Why Harry, why me?” Ginny shifted in her chair.
“You have great potential, Miss Weasley, of becoming a very powerful witch. Harry, though he has received some attributes through Tom, is gifted in his own right.” Dumbledore continued delicately. “I believe it has to do with your experience in the Chamber and the most basic power known to Wizards and Muggles alike.”
Harry sought Ginny out the corner of his eye to see if she had understood what Dumbledore was referring to and from the tiny lines creased across her brow, she had not.
“Miss Weasley, could you please tell me about the first time you realized that Harry was connected to you?” Dumbledore relieved them from an awkward moment.
“Uh, it was in the garden.” Ginny thought back aloud, looking at Harry to jog her memory, “No, it was when you first came back from the Dursleys. That night we talked by the fire, the night I slept in the parlor.”
“You’re right,” A light flicked on in Harry’s mind. “And then it happened again that morning. I woke up and you were sitting on my bed.”
“At the Burrow, in the garden-” Ginny started, ticking off her fingers.
“When you hugged me-“ Harry caught on to the chain of events, the pieces falling into place.
“On your birthday- in the hollow- when you were on the bench.” Ginny touched the back of her head “Sorry.”
“The train,” Harry didn’t bother hiding his resentment. “Malfoy.”
“My dream.”
“Flying.”
“The alley.
“The hospital wing, twice.” Harry looked to smiling wizard behind the desk. “Dumbledore.”
“Quidditch.” Ginny finished the chain and turned to Dumbledore. “It changed, didn’t it?”
“Yes it did.” He smiled back at his young students.
“Can we still share each others thoughts if we wanted to, without invoking that Po... Potes... that bond thing?” Ginny asked.
“It is my hope that we can sort out exactly what the two of you are capable of. One of which is controlling the Vita Potestas bond. As I have already explained, that specific ability should be mastered before it is tried again. But to answer your question, yes, you could.”
“How can we share our thoughts and not our power? How do we tell the difference?” Harry blushed at the thought of what he was going to say next. “I mean, all I have to do is concentrate on Ginny and it just happens.”
“It’s a matter of our intentions.” Ginny sounded wiser than her years, Dumbledore merely nodded. “You wanted me to take your strength in the alley, I remember, that’s what you wanted, I could feel it and I accepted it-”
“-and it was too much.” That part was at least making sense to Harry, “If it wasn’t for Ron and Lupin distracting me...” Harry swallowed the lump in his throat. “That’s why you lost consciousness, it was too much-”
“-and why you were so weak, Harry.” It was Dumbledore who spoke.
“I am amazed that you were able to block out Tom’s intrusion and break free of the body-binding hex Professor Lupin placed on you. By all means, that should not have been possible.”
“When I saw Harry that night, I was so relieved. I wanted him to be okay too.” Ginny gazed down to her lap. Harry noticed that she was fussing with the cuff of her sleeve, it was another one of those little things he noticed about her.
“Ron knew what was happening, that’s why he told me to look away, to break it off.” Harry continued to watch her, remembering Ron’s effort at his bedside.
“When you helped us reconnect later that night, you told us to recall those same feelings we had in the alley, the same intentions...” Ginny blushed slightly at her next confession. “The light... magic... came from me because I... because when I heard you say aloud that you wanted to give me your strength, I wanted to give it back and I suppose I did a little.”
“That’s why you asked if I felt better, because you knew what Ginny was doing?” Harry asked Dumbledore. “It’s what I couldn’t do.”
“I had my theories, I must admit.” Dumbledore sighed, “But as I have said before, nobody has ever accomplished so much, at such a young age, than the two of you. I cannot stress enough the responsibility that comes with such power.”
Silence once again fell between them; only the whirling, spinning, magical instruments in the cupboard kept the room from being completely still with their faint sputtering and humming noises. Harry had fixed his site on an obscure point on the floor after he noticed that Ginny was doing the same. He had been given yet another burden to carry and Ginny was in the balance again.
“Would you like to try?” Both Harry and Ginny shot up, surprised at what Dumbledore had offered.
“The Vita Potestas?” Harry asked skeptically, he didn’t think it was a good idea, the very thought of what they could do, what he could do to her, scared him.
“No, not today.” He smiled softly, “But I was hoping that you would consent to attend our lessons together with the accompaniment of Miss Weasley, that is if she is willing to join us?”
Not wanting to assume her approval, Harry concealed his grin and turned to Ginny, taking on the proper tone of their walks. “Miss Weasley, will you?”
There was an unmistakable truth hidden behind the lofty veil of Ginny’s reply.
“Why, I would never turn you down, Mr. Potter.”
A/N: Okay, there it is. You get some answers concerning H/G's bond which have been a long time coming, more tension between the two, and Ron is stepping up. The Holidays are on then horizon... Feedback and suggestions always welcome, I like chocolate *wink,wink*. Thanks for all the reads and reviews! ~Patrony