Disclaimer: I own nothing; it all belongs to J.K.Rowling. I’m just borrowing the characters to play with for a while. This is for pleasure only, no profit is being made, and no copyright infringement is intended.

A/N: Just a fair warning that this chapter earns its PG-13 rating for some drunken boy talk at the end ;).

The next several days passed in a blur for Harry. Tonks had finally arrived at Hogwarts, informing them all of the sketchy details surrounding Percy’s death. According to her source, Severus Snape was seen at the Ministry that night, and Percy had been called to a private meeting. No one knew exactly what went on behind the closed doors, but the meeting had ended with Percy’s dead body and an enraged Severus Snape.

An examination of Percy’s body had revealed that he had indeed been tortured, but from Snape’s angry demeanor, it was suspected that Percy hadn’t given up the information that the former Potions master was seeking.

This was both a relief and a new source of misery to the Weasley family. Percy hadn’t betrayed them, after all. In fact, he’d apparently given his own life while trying to protect them, but he’d died before they’d ever truly had the chance to mend their row. Mrs. Weasley was taking it the hardest, and Madam Pomfrey had been regularly giving her a Calming Draught. The rest of the family was also struggling in their own way.

Charlie had arrived from Romania and attempted to get the Ministry to release Percy’s body to him, but the Ministry had refused. They wanted to speak with Arthur and Molly and demanded to know their whereabouts. Charlie had insisted he didn’t know and had barely escaped before a warrant was issued for his arrest, as well.

While Bill, Fred, George and Ginny appeared to be coming to terms with it, Ron was expressing his grief in anger. His temper boiled over quickly, and he constantly snapped at everyone. Fred and George were far less boisterous than usual, and Harry had spotted each of them blankly staring off into space on numerous occasions.

The one thing that had struck him most about the Weasley grieving process was the way they all clung together, apparently gaining support from one another’s company. Even Ron, with his foul mood, chose to stay in the room and argue with his siblings rather than seek the solace of his room. Harry remembered how he had felt after Sirius died — he’d want company, but as soon as he had it, he’d feel the need to be alone. None of the Weasleys wanted to be alone at all.

Harry, Ron, Charlie, Fred and George were all sharing a single room in the boys’ dormitory. Bill and Fleur were on another floor, with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley taking a third. Ginny had told him she was bunking in the girls’ dormitory with Hermione and Shannon. Harry still hadn’t figured out exactly where Moody was staying. The Slytherin women were all sharing one of the girls’ dormitories, but Draco had refused to room with any of the Gryffindor boys. Instead, he’d taken the first-year boys’ dorm all on his own.

One afternoon, after another row among the Weasleys over the Ministry’s refusal to release Percy’s body, Harry discovered the flying carpet that he’d found amidst Dung’s belongings rolled up at the bottom of his rucksack. Pulling it out with a delighted grin, he gathered Ron, Hermione and Ginny and told them to follow him out to the Quidditch pitch.

"Honestly, Harry," Hermione said, grumpily blowing a stray lock of hair from her mouth. "I don’t want to go to the Quidditch pitch. Whatever it is you want to show us, I’m certain we’ve seen you do it a hundred times already. We all know you can fly. I want to make use of our time here and do some research in the library."

"You haven’t seen this," Harry said, continuing to smile as he marched toward the pitch. "We’ve been holed up in the library since we got here, Hermione. I think we all need some stress relief."

He could see that he’d piqued Ginny’s curiosity, and Ron was always up for a trip to the pitch. It was only the fact that he hadn’t brought his broom that kept Hermione moving, however. He had the carpet wrapped in the Invisibility Cloak and tucked firmly underneath his arm.

"Of course I’ve been there a lot," Hermione said crossly. "The Hogwarts library is extensive, and now that I’m of age, I can get anything I want out of the Restricted Section."

"If you want to go back in an hour, I won’t stop you," Harry said, rolling his eyes. "This is something that might interest you, Hermione. It’s something I inherited from Sirius. I found it at Dung’s place, and I nicked it back."

"You didn’t nick it if it’s yours," Hermione said, furrowing her brow. "You didn’t mention taking anything but the locket."

Ron’s eyes opened wide, suddenly alight. "Blimey, Harry…I forgot. Can I have a go after you?"

"A go with what?" Ginny asked, her head moving back and forth between them.

Harry stopped when they reached the pitch. "With this," he said, removing the Invisibility Cloak and revealing the flying carpet hidden beneath.

"Wicked," Ron said, eyeing it appreciatively.

"Wow, Harry!" Ginny said, "How could you have forgot to mention this?"

"Those are illegal," Hermione said, but Harry could tell it was simply an automatic response. She ran her hands along the fabric inquisitively, examining each side.

"I know, but I can’t imagine Sirius’s family paid much attention to the laws, anyway. I think they were kind of like the Malfoys and thought they were above them," Harry replied.

"Sirius wouldn’t have cared anyway," Ron said, sniggering. "Didn’t you tell me he also charmed a motorbike to fly?"

"Yeah," Harry said, grinning. "That’s how Hagrid first brought me to Privet Drive. I used to have dreams about flying motorbikes as a child, never imagining it might have actually been a real memory. The Dursleys forbade me to mention it."

"How does it work?" Hermione asked.

"No clue," Harry replied, grinning. "Should be fun to find out, though." He placed the carpet on the ground, laying it out flat. "I think we can all fit."

"I’m not getting on that thing! You don’t even know how to fly it," Hermione said, exasperated.

"Never stopped me before," Harry said, dropping to his knees. It couldn’t be that hard. When he’d learned to fly a broomstick, he’d simply had to say ‘up’ and the rest had come naturally.

"Up," he said.

Nothing happened, although he thought he detected ripple of power course through the fabric.

Ron sniggered while both Ginny and Hermione tried to suppress giggles.

"Give me a minute," he said. Remaining on his knees, he leaned over so his hands rested on the edge of the carpet. He shut his eyes, allowing his body to relax.

"Up," he repeated, and this time it worked.

The carpet rose in the air rather shakily, creasing and folding and causing him to almost lose his balance as he shifted his weight. It took him a few minutes, but he caught on rather quickly. Leaning from side to side controlled the movement and pulling the front up or down controlled the height. It wasn’t nearly as streamlined as a broomstick, and it didn’t react to his lightest touch the way his Firebolt did, but it was enjoyable nonetheless.

He whooped as he gathered speed, looping around and through the Quidditch hoops. Once he was certain he could control it, he sped down and pulled up short in front of his friends, grinning madly.

"How is it?" Ginny asked, her eyes glowing.

"It looked brilliant," Ron said, smiling in a way Harry hadn’t seen since he’d been informed of Percy’s death.

"It’s not as good as a broomstick, but it certainly beats a Portkey," Harry said, grinning. "Climb on."

Ginny needed no further encouragement. She sat down next to him, resting her hand on his thigh and sending jolts of electricity down his leg.

Ron sat behind him and held his hand out to a reluctant Hermione.

"I don’t know about this," she said, sitting down gingerly. "I’m really not very fond of heights."

"I remember," Harry laughed. "It’s easier than Buckb…er…Witherwings, Hermione. At least the carpet won’t bite your hand off."

"That’s not very encouraging," Hermione said, yelping as Harry pulled on the edge of the carpet, causing it to rise sharply in the air.

She shrieked as Harry continued to increase the speed, soaring high above the pitch and zooming out over the lake. Ginny’s laughter only encouraged Harry to climb higher.

Hermione shrieked again, burying her face in Ron’s jacket. Ron wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close, grinning from ear to ear.

"Just relax and enjoy it, Hermione," Ron shouted over the wind.

"Enjoy it!" Hermione screamed, her voice only slightly muffled as she clung to Ron’s chest. "Enjoy it! I hate flying!"

Harry aimed the carpet at the top of the Astronomy tower, whooping with glee as they caught a strong wind that pushed them along. It wasn’t nearly as fast as his Firebolt, but being able to share the experience with the others was new and exciting.

He soared around the castle, diving in and out of the turrets. He skimmed over the forest and waved to Grawp when they spotted the young giant pulling some trees out by their roots. Finally, conceding to Hermione’s screams, Harry landed on the Quidditch pitch, feeling happier than he had in days.

"That was brilliant," Ginny said, her nose and cheeks pink from the cold. Her eyes were sparkling, and Harry felt pleased he could give that to her. When he’d been sad after losing both Sirius and Dumbledore, flying had always helped him feel better, too.

Hermione, on the other hand, appeared more than happy to be back on the ground. She’d scrambled off the carpet after they’d landed, straightening her wig. Harry half expected her to lean over and kiss the ground.

"Didn’t you enjoy it at all, Hermione?" Harry asked, feeling a little disappointed.

Hermione took a deep breath. "Well," she said, shrugging. "I really don’t like to be up so high, but it was nice to spend the time with all of you."

"But now you want to go back to the library," Ron said, finishing her thought.

Hermione crinkled her nose. "Well…"

"It’s all right. I want to give it a go myself, then I’ll meet you for supper," Ron said.

Hermione frowned, creasing her brow. "I suppose…" she said, trailing her words.

"Suppose what?" Ron asked, clearly confused.

"Well, it’s a long walk back to the castle, and I am rather cold. Do you suppose you could give me a lift?"

Ron’s face beamed with happiness. "You want me to give you a ride? On the carpet?" he asked, delighted.

Hermione nodded warily. "Only don’t go as high as Harry did."

Harry took Ginny’s hand and moved back. "It’s all yours. We’ll wait here," he said, grinning.

Ron and Hermione climbed on and began floating slowly toward the castle. Harry created a small fireball to keep Ginny and him warm while they awaited Ron’s return. Ginny’s smile slowly faded, and she grew quiet as she warmed her hands over it.

"All right, Ginny?" Harry asked quietly, gently nudging her with his shoulder.

"I’m okay," she said. "It’s strange. Sometimes, I get so involved in whatever I’m doing that I forget. Then when I remember, I feel guilty for forgetting. Does that make any sense?"

Harry smiled tightly. "Perfectly."

Ginny nodded. "I suppose you would know."

"Yeah," Harry said. "Try not to feel guilty, Ginny. I know what that must sound like coming from me, but I also know the guilt can eat you alive, and there’s still absolutely nothing you can do to change what’s happened."

"I know that," Ginny said, throwing her hands in the air. "But I still wish I’d said something more to him before it was too late. We talked at Christmas, but just barely. He was my brother, and I was so angry with him. Now he’s gone, and I’ll never have the chance to set things to rights."

Harry watched, dismayed, as a single tear fell slowly down Ginny’s cheek. Reaching out a finger, he gently wiped it away.

"I know," he said, his throat aching. "But you know what? No matter how much time you had, or how much you could have said, the ache would still be there now. I don’t think there’s ever enough time."

Ginny leaned her head on Harry’s shoulder. "Thanks, Harry. I love my family to bits, but sometimes it’s hard to get away from them."

Harry nodded. "Yeah, I’ve noticed." A thought occurred to him, and he abruptly stood, holding out his hand to her. "Come with me. I’ve someplace I want to show you."

Ginny glanced at him curiously, but she took his hand and followed him, nonetheless. As they walked along the edge of the lake, they could see Ron soaring above. Harry chuckled watching as Ron’s long legs dangled off either side of the carpet.

"He’s having fun," Ginny said, smiling. "Thanks for doing that for him, Harry. I think Ron is having the hardest time of all, since he never really even spoke to Percy after he came back."

"I know," Harry said quietly. "Part of that is my fault."

"Your fault?" Ginny said, startled. "How could it be your fault?"

"Percy sent Ron a letter at the beginning of our fifth year, warning him away from me. He said Ron would do better to cut his ties. Ron never hesitated and destroyed the letter," Harry said, smiling fondly. "He chose me," he whispered, blinking the sudden moisture from his eyes.

"Well, of course he did. It’s not your fault Percy was being a prat," Ginny said, firing up at once. "Even Percy saw that at the end. That’s what upsets me the most — that he did realize his mistake, but he wasted all that time that we could have had him in the family. It shouldn’t have been that way."

"No, it shouldn’t. Voldemort has a knack for destroying families. Here," he said, pointing to a spot by the lake that was well secluded with brush. It was a small, peaceful clearing with a nice view of the water.

"I came here a few times when I wanted to be alone after Sirius died," Harry said.

"It’s beautiful," Ginny replied, looking around thoughtfully.

"I thought…er…maybe you’d like to use it if you…er…well, if you ever wanted some time with your thoughts," Harry said, running a hand through his hair.

"Thanks, Harry, Ginny said, her eyes filling. "D’you mind if I stay here a bit now? Just to think?"

Harry shook his head. "I don’t mind. I’m going to go find Ron."

**--**--

Harry had walked back to the Quidditch pitch and waited for nearly an hour with no sign of his friend. Finally deciding that Ron must have already gone back to the castle, Harry went to find him. He noticed the tense atmosphere in the common room as soon as he entered.

Shannon and George were sitting in the squishy armchairs by the fire. Harry nodded to them as he walked toward the stairs.

"I wouldn’t go up there," George said. "Ron’s in a right state."

"Why? What happened?" Harry asked.

"Same as always — another Weasley row. Mum and Moody went at it again, and Ron took Moody’s side. Mum burst into tears, and Charlie laid into Ron for upsetting her. It was ugly."

Harry nodded. "Thanks for the warning. I’m going to go see him, anyway."

"Don’t say I didn’t warn you," George replied, shrugging.

When Harry entered the dormitory, he found Ron lying on his bed with his arms behind his head, staring blankly at the ceiling.

"Hey," Harry said, carefully edging into the room.

"Hey," Ron replied, unmoving.

Harry walked over to his own bed and sat on the edge, glancing around uncomfortably.

"Why’d you leave? I thought we’d do some more flying," Harry said.

Ron shrugged. "I saw you and Ginny talking, and it looked pretty serious. I didn’t want to interrupt, and I certainly didn’t want to talk anymore about Percy, so I came inside."

"Ron…" Harry said, uncertain what to say. It wasn’t as if he and Ron ever really discussed any of this emotional stuff with each other. That was usually Hermione’s area.

"Don’t, Harry," Ron said, snapping. "What? D’you want to say ‘I told you so’? D’you want to remind me that you warned me about regretting not doing what was important when I had the chance?"

"No," Harry replied, stung.

"Then what? What can you possibly say that will change anything?" Ron shouted.

Breathing deeply to control his rising temper, Harry said, "Nothing. There’s nothing I can say that will change anything, Ron. You’re angry that you didn’t get to have it out with Percy, but rowing with the rest of your brothers won’t make it stop."

"Yeah, you’re such an expert on this stuff, huh, Harry?" Ron snarled.

Harry flinched. "Unfortunately, I’ve had some experience," he said through clinched teeth.

Ron paled, deflating. "Shite, Harry. I’m sorry. I don’t know what’s wrong with me — I keep snapping at Hermione, too. Merlin, I need a drink."

Harry pursed his lips and stared at Ron a moment before moving to his rucksack and digging through it. Pulling out his remaining bottle of Everlasting Firewhisky, he said, "That’s one problem I can solve."

One corner of Ron’s mouth quirked upwards. He grabbed the bottle and took a long swig, setting on the floor with his back resting against his bed. He folded his legs and handed the bottle to Harry, who also took a swig.

When he passed the bottle back to Ron, a brief flicker of concern crossed his friend’s face. "Hermione is going to kill us. We haven’t even had supper yet," he said. Despite his concern, he took a long draught of the Firewhisky, wincing slightly from the burn as it went down.

Harry shrugged, taking the bottle. "So? We are having supper — it’s just a liquid supper," he replied, grinning.

"Yeah," Ron said, chuckling. "You tell Hermione that when she bursts in here and finds the two of us pissed."

Harry shook his head. "Nuh—uh. She’s your girlfriend. You get to deal with it, while I quietly slink out of the room," he replied, laughing.

"Thanks a lot, you git," Ron said.

They sat on the floor trading the bottle back and forth for quite some time. If it had been a normal bottle, it would have been long empty by the time the winter sky had darkened, and the candles in the dormitory lit. Neither of them felt any pain, and the Firewhisky had long since stopped burning as they swallowed it. Both boys had uncurled their legs and sat sprawled on the floor — each kicking the other as they traded good-natured barbs.

It was only after they’d been drinking happily for some time that the conversation drifted back to Percy.

"I just wish I could have said ‘Happy Christmas’ while he was at Grimmauld Place, you know? What’s so hard about saying Happy Christmas?" Ron asked, slurring his words.

For some reason, Harry found it very difficult to follow Ron’s train of thought. He furrowed his brow, concentrating on enunciating his words. "Not hard at all. Happy. Christmas. Easy, see. Only two words."

"Exactly! Two words. So how come I couldn’t say them?" Ron asked.

"Dunno," Harry replied. "But he didn’t say them, either."

Ron blinked, nonplussed. "What?"

"You’re beating yourself up for not saying ‘Happy Christmas,’" Harry said, stressing each word to ensure he had his facts straight. "But, did Percy say it to you?"

"Well…no," Ron replied, "but he did show up for dinner."

"Yeah…well, he owed you the apology, right?" Harry asked, taking another swig.

Ron eyes widened to the point they were bugging out of his head. "We both made mistakes!" he shouted.

"’Course you did — you’re Weasleys," Harry said, kicking Ron’s leg.

Ron grinned, his eyes focusing somewhere beside Harry’s head. "Watch out, or I’ll tell my sister you said that, Potter."

Harry tried to control the grin he felt overtaking his face, but it was useless. He felt giddy and didn’t care if Ron knew it.

"You’re in love with my sister," Ron said, grinning.

"Yep," Harry answered unflinchingly, the grin remaining plastered on his face.

"You’re serious," Ron said.

Harry shrugged. "She makes me happy. She makes me want things that I never thought were meant for me…and I could easily spend every waking moment snogging her senseless."

"Eww, Harry," Ron said, taking a long swig. "I’m not pissed enough to hear any details."

"I am," Harry said, resting the back of his head on the top of his bed. Realizing it made him nauseous, he quickly lifted it back up, causing the room to spin. "Whoa."

"Hermione is an extremely good kisser," Ron said, his brow furrowed. "I don’t like to think that it was Vicky who taught her, though."

"Maybe it wasn’t," Harry replied, trying to measure the size of a candle’s flame with his fingers. "Maybe she’s just naturally a good kisser."

"Maybe she just likes kissing me," Ron said, his head lolling to the side with a silly grin. "There’s lots she likes to do with me."

Harry’s eyes bulged. "Exactly how much does she like to do with you?" he asked, not certain if he really wanted to know.

"Wouldn’t you like to know?" Ron said, chuckling.

"Er…no, not really," Harry said, suddenly giving in to the uncontrollable urge to laugh. "I keep imagining you and Hermione getting carried away and her wanting to stop to pull out her notes."

Ron kicked Harry in the leg, hard. Harry began convulsing with laughter, falling to his side and finding it impossible to sit up again.

"If Hermione has read any notes on pleasing her man, I’m not complaining," Ron said. "That girl has always been good about doing her homework."

Harry began waving his arms in the air. "Stop! No more. I don’t want to know."

"I thought you said you were drunk enough to hear this," Ron said, picking up his wand and using it to make the flame on the nearest candle alternately dim and flare.

"I’m drunk not," Harry said, staring at the ceiling. He furrowed his brow. That didn’t sound right…did it?

"Yeah, you always lie on the floor with your feet on the bed, Harry," Ron said, suddenly doubling over laughing. In the process he dropped his wand, and it rolled under Harry’s bed. "Oh…crap."

"I’ll get it!" Harry shouted. He knew he could do this. He dove under the bed, grasping the wand in his fingers and rolling out on the other side. "Ha! Told you I could get it."

"Yeah, you’re my hero," Ron said, snorting.

Harry flung the wand and pelted Ron off the head with it.

"Ow!" Ron cried, rubbing his forehead vigorously.

"Seriously," Harry said, peeking over the top of his bed, but keeping it between Ron and him like a shield. "Exactly how far have you and Hermione gone?" he asked, slurring his words.

"Are you drunk enough to know?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, I am," Harry replied, hiccupping in confirmation.

"We haven’t gone all the way…but not from lack of trying on my part. Further than I did with Lavender, anyway," Ron said.

Harry pursed his lips without commenting.

Ron grimaced. "How about you and Ginny?" he asked, his entire body tensing.

Harry snorted, taking another sip of the Firewhisky.

"What? I told you," Ron said indignantly.

"Yeah, but I’m not telling you. You’ll hit me," Harry said. The entire room was spinning, and he was having trouble focusing on exactly where Ron’s voice was coming from.

"I won’t hit you," Ron said, moving from a seated position onto his knees. "Just tell me quick — and no real details."

"I’m not telling you anything. You nearly choked me for tickling her. Who knows what you’ll do if I tell you I’ve seen her naked," Harry said, swallowing heavily. "Well…almost naked, anyway."

"I told you not to tell me that!" Ron exclaimed, putting his hands over his ears.

"That’s why I’m not going to tell you about the almost naked part," Harry said, exasperated.

"Well, someone told me because now I know. Now I have to do something about it," Ron said, his face turning alarmingly red. "That’s my little sister, Harry."

"I know. That’s why I’m not telling you that I know how much of her is freckled," Harry said earnestly.

Ron reached for his wand, but he fumbled, and it rolled under the bed once again. Ron dove for it on one side while Harry did on the other, each of them struggling on the floor to reach it first.

**--**--

That was how Hermione and Ginny found them when they finally came up to the dorm to see why the boys had skipped supper. Ginny had spent a long time down by the lake lost in her own thoughts and returned to find Hermione feeling rather miffed that Ron hadn’t joined her for supper. They’d shared a nice meal together before going in search of the boys, and Ginny felt better than she had in some time.

"What in Merlin’s name are you two doing?" she asked, giggling at the sight of Harry’s bed shaking as the two boys wrestled beneath it with their legs sticking out on either side.

Both of them jumped at the sound of her voice, cracking their heads on the bottom of the bed. After a considerable amount of time, they managed to extract themselves on opposite sides of the bed and sat on the floor rubbing their heads. Both wore glazed expressions and had high color on their cheeks. They’d obviously been drinking — heavily. Ginny giggled at the way their eyes refused to focus. Hermione, however, was not amused.

"Ron!" she shouted, stamping her foot. "You two have been drinking, and you haven’t even had supper. I thought you were going to meet me."

Ron turned toward his girlfriend, his expression dazed. "Oh, yeah…I was. I said that after I gave you that romantic ride on the flying carpet, right?" he asked, obviously pleased he remembered.

"Ginny!" Harry exclaimed, an enormous smile spreading across his face. It was the kind of smile he usually only wore if he was flying, and Ginny always thought he was beautiful when he grinned that way.

His hair was tousled, and he ran a hand through it as he tried to keep up with the conversation. Turning towards Ron with an incredulous expression, he said, "It wasn’t romantic. Hermione hates to fly."

Ron stuck out his chest, slurring his words. "Was so romantic. I wasn’t like you just trying to make it go as fast as it would go so the girls would scream on the dives."

Harry looked crestfallen, and he turned wide eyes towards Ginny. "Did you think it was romantic, Ginny?"

The corner of Ginny’s mouth twitched — she found him rather adorable in this condition. "Of course it was, Harry," she said.

"She’s just saying that ‘cuz it’s you. Our flight was definitely more romantic, wasn’t it, Hermione?" Ron asked.

"Why is everything always a competition with you two?" Hermione asked, exasperated.

"I think it’s a bloke thing," Ginny replied, giggling. "I remember Mum throwing a wobbly once when we were younger because all my brothers were rowing about who had the biggest scoop of mashed potatoes."

"Yeah! Mine was definitely the biggest. Charlie kept fluffing his with his fork to try and make it look bigger than it was," Ron said, looking rather put out with Charlie.

Hermione shook her head and picked up the bottle of Firewhisky. "You’ve had enough of this," she said, Banishing it.

"Hey!" Harry yelped, blinking. "That was my birthday present, and I’m not done with it."

"Then where is it?" Hermione asked, impressing Ginny with her quick thinking.

Harry looked perplexed. "I…You…I don’t know, but I’m not done with it."

"Come on, off the floor with you, Harry," Ginny said, tugging him to his feet and pushing him back down on his bed. "The party’s over."

"It is?" Harry asked, allowing her to manhandle him.

"Yeah. We’ve got some news," Ginny said, a chill running down her spine. She wished she could just leave him this way and allow him to continue his party with Ron, but this couldn’t wait. She sat beside him, ruffling his hair.

"What news?" Ron asked, sitting on his own bed.

"I need you sober," Hermione said, waving her wand in the air. Both Harry and Ron shook their heads, blinking.

"Oi. I didn’t like that," Harry said, slapping his hands over his ears repeatedly. "It made my ears pop."

"Why did you do that, Hermione?" Ron whinged, shaking his head.

"Because I have something important to tell you, and I didn’t want you giggling through it. The Order is having an impromptu meeting downstairs about Umbridge. Apparently, she’s called a press conference at the Ministry in three days. She claims to have struck a deal with Voldemort to ensure peace."

"What? Voldemort will never stick to that," Harry said, finally giving the girls his full attention.

"The Order doesn’t think so, either," Hermione replied. "According to Tonks’s source, Umbridge wanted to have a warrant issued for your arrest, Harry. She still doesn’t have enough clout with the Wizengamot to push it through, but they did agree to bring you in for questioning."

"Have to find me first, don’t they?" Harry asked, scowling.

"It gets worse, Harry," Hermione said, biting her lip.

"What do you mean?" he asked, and Ginny could feel his entire body tense.

Hermione took a deep breath before resting her hand on Harry’s arm as if to keep him calm. "This bargain that she’s supposedly struck with Voldemort is very dodgy. No one knows exactly what it entails, but as part of a show of good faith on her part, she released Wormtail."

"What?" Harry exploded, jumping from the bed and jerking his arm away from Hermione. His eyes were wild, and Ginny could feel the power radiating from him. It was almost frightening.

Hermione recoiled, stricken. "She’s going to give all the details at her press conference. Tonks suspects she’s going to use it as a push to have herself instated as full Minister and not just for the Interim."

"We’ll see about that," Harry said, his voice deadly calm. Ginny moved toward him, resting her hand on his shoulder. He was so tense, she feared he was ready to snap.

"What do you mean? Harry, you can’t be anywhere near there. She’s got the order to bring you in for questioning, and if she succeeds in securing the Ministry, she’ll have you arrested," Hermione said tearfully.

Harry’s face hardened as a steely glint of power stole into his eyes. He looked fierce, and Ginny couldn’t help feeling proud of the man he was becoming.

"Then maybe it’s time for the Chosen One to tell the people what’s really going on — whether they want to hear it or not," Harry said, his jaw clenched in determination.

Ginny slipped her hand into his and squeezed it gently. Whatever happened, she knew they’d all be by his side.

A/N: Thanks so much to Sherylyn for her speedy beta worked. Even after all this time — I’m still comma-impaired (although, to be fair, I think every single person who looks at this follows different comma rules :D) Thanks also to my wonderful pre-betas, KEDme, Dianne, and GhostWriter — all of whom wanted to see the return of Drunk!Harry. I do like writing him. I love the idea of a Harry powerful enough to thwart a Dark Lord but unable to handle his alcohol, lol.