Ginny hurried back downstairs into the kitchen. The sound of heavier footfalls behind her told her Harry was following.

"Mum," she asked, "why are all my school things up in my room?"

Ginny's mother turned from her place at the cooker, her mouth pressed into a line. "Have a seat, dear. I think we need to have a talk."

Ginny did as she was told. Judging by her mother's expression, combined with the evidence in her bedroom, she knew this wasn't going to be good. Harry had picked up on this as well. "Perhaps I should just leave you to talk," he suggested.

Ginny already had a good idea what this was about, and she turned to him. "No, you can stay. Please?"

Harry looked at her gravely and nodded once before taking a seat beside her at the table.

Ginny decided to get straight to the point. "I've been expelled from Hogwarts, haven't I?"

Her mother sat down heavily. "Yes, I'm afraid you have. Professor McGonagall came to see your father and me not long after you'd begun to wake up, and she told us. She was very sorry she had to do it, but the Board of Governors gave her no choice."

"But there were extenuating circumstances! Professor McGonagall knew that!" She felt a hand on her shoulder, squeezing comfortingly.

"She did, but apparently it wasn't enough to sway the Board of Governors."

"But they didn't even ask me about it. Shouldn't I have had a chance to state my case?"

"According to Professor McGonagall, the Board was concerned about precedents. They thought you were setting a bad example by running off and missing the beginning of term. Added to the trouble you got yourself into last autumn, they really didn't have a choice. I'm afraid you've made things all too easy for them."

"But what about my NEWTs? What sort of job am I going to be able to get if I can't take them?" The hand on Ginny's shoulder squeezed a bit more firmly.

"Ginny," her mother began gently, "how were you expecting to be prepared to take your NEWTs? You've missed two months of school as it is, and there are certain portions of the examinations you just won't be able to do now."

"I know that. But I can take the written portions. That's got to count for something. And I can sit the NEWTs that don't require magic."

"You're still behind in your classes. That's a tremendous amount of work to make up."

"I did it this autumn, and I can do it again," Ginny insisted. "As you say, there are certain things I can't do now, but I can concentrate on those things I can do and prepare for them."

"You exhausted yourself this autumn making up the work. You've just recovered from nearly dying. I'm not about to have you exhaust yourself again."

"That's just it, Mum. It's not going to be so bad this time. I won't be able to do certain things, so I'll just concentrate on what I can do. It's got to be better than nothing."

"Ginny, there's no point in arguing over this. The Board of Governors has decided already. They're not going to allow you to go back. I don't see how it's going to be possible for you to take your NEWTs."

"I'll write to Professor McGonagall and ask if they'll let me do what I can. I'll have Hermione owl me the lessons. I'll manage."

Ginny was vaguely aware of Harry muttering something to himself under his breath, but she hadn't been paying close enough attention to make out what he was saying. Her mother, on the other hand, must have picked up on it, for she looked sharply at him. Ginny turned to find Harry looking very guilty.

"Oh no," Ginny's mother snapped at him. "Don't you start in! Just get that look off your face! I've had about all I'm going to take of that attitude of yours. This is not your fault!"

She got to her feet and began to pace back and forth while Harry and Ginny gaped at her. "If you know my daughter as much as you think you know her," Ginny's mother went on, "then you know that once she gets an idea in that thick head of hers nothing can stop her. And now look at the both of you!"

She stopped her pacing and stared at them with snapping eyes. "I love you both, but at the moment I could just throttle the pair of you! You…" She pointed at Harry. "You go out and find a spell that nearly gets you killed. Yes, I know, you got rid of You-Know-Who, but look what you had to give up to use it. And then you insist no one can know about it. And look what it led to. You…" She turned her wrath on Ginny now. "First you almost blow up your brothers, and then you take it on yourself to solve Harry's problems and nearly get yourself killed too!"

She paused for breath while Harry and Ginny continued to gape. Ginny sank down a bit in her seat. "Both of you are so stubborn. So proud and independent. But you don't see what that does to the rest of us. You both take it on yourselves to solve the world's problems! You don't tell anyone! You don't ask for help! You keep it a secret! I understand you love each other, but what neither of you seems to remember is that OTHER PEOPLE LOVE YOU TOO! DO YOU KNOW WHAT EITHER OF YOU HAVE PUT ME THROUGH? DO YOU KNOW WHAT YOU'RE PUTTING ME THOUGH NOW?"

Ginny's mother paused again, her chest heaving. When she went on it was in a somewhat quieter tone, but Ginny knew better than to think the storm had passed altogether. "I'm going to worry about you all the time. Did you ever think about that? How are you going to cope? How are you going to live? Where are you going to live? How are you going to earn a living? Harry has money, yes, but it isn't going to last forever. And now he's insisted on paying your hospital bills."

Ginny tore her eyes off of her mother for a moment to stare at Harry in surprise. He was looking steadily down at the table. Ginny couldn't say anything for the moment, however, because her mother hadn't yet finished her tirade.

"YOU, young man… " She was pointing at Harry again. "You are going to straighten up and fly right. No more feeling sorry for yourself. You are going to stand tall and be the man you always have been. And YOU, young lady… " Now she'd turned to Ginny. "I'm not sure what you're going to do, but mark my words, IT WILL BE SOMETHING RESPECTABLE!"

This was too much for Ginny. She was on her feet in an instant. "HOW CAN I, MUM, WHEN THEY WON'T EVEN LET ME BACK INTO SCHOOL?" she shouted back. "I'D BE HAPPY TO DO SOMETHING RESPECTABLE! I WANT TO DO SOMETHING RESPECTABLE, BUT HOW CAN I?"

"WELL, WHOSE FAULT IS THAT? YOU DIDN'T HAVE TO SET OFF ON THIS CRUSADE WITHOUT TELLING ANYBODY!"

"YES, MUM, YES I DID! DON'T YOU GET IT? I HAD TO DO THIS! HARRY WAS UNHAPPY…"

Ginny felt a tug on her shirttail. "Gin, we've been through this," Harry said to her quietly. "If it comes down to a choice between my powers and you, I know which I'd choose."

"Well, I thought you could have both, all right?" she told him.

"It's over," interjected Ginny's mother. "For better or for worse it's over. I don't give a damn if both of you have lost your magic. You're alive and well, and that's all that matters. You've both made your choices, and now you have to live with the consequences. You will find a way to become useful citizens of whichever world you decide to become part of. And I'll have no more self-pity and no more tears from either of you. Have I made myself clear?"

Ginny nodded grudgingly, knowing her mother wouldn't stop until she'd acquiesced.

"Now, both of you," her mother went on, "go out there and de-gnome that garden. And heaven help you if I see one gnome out there. GO!"

Ginny and Harry both went out to the garden in a daze. Ginny was glad of the physical activity to begin with. It gave her an opportunity to burn off some of her anger. But she hadn't tossed very many gnomes over the hedge at all before she was out of breath and had to sit down.

Harry immediately dropped the gnome he'd just picked up by its ankles. "Are you all right there?" he asked, and she could hear the concern in his voice.

"I don't understand it. I'm tired already. All I've done for the last two months is lie around doing nothing. I ought to be well rested by now."

"You're not used to all this activity. Just rest. I'll take care of this."

"Not so fast. What was that in there about paying my hospital bills?"

"Ginny, I did what I had to, to make sure you had the best care you could. You needed to be there, and I could afford to keep you there. You'd have done the same in my place, wouldn't you?"

She nodded.

"I know you would have. Look at all you took on yourself for me. So don't begrudge me that. And the longer you stayed there, the better your chances were."

Ginny arched a brow at him. "So I've got you to thank for two whole months of that vile potion?"

Harry sat down on the bench next to her. "If you still needed to take it, I'd be there holding you down. I want you to get better. I need you to get better."

Ginny was about to protest that she was better. They'd released her from the hospital, after all. But she didn't have a chance to get the words out. Harry had taken her face in his hands and pulled her into a kiss, but he broke it off all too soon.

"Ginny," he said, running his thumbs over her cheekbones, "I've got something I need to say to you."

She looked up into his eyes and saw how serious he'd gone. "What is it?"

"Don't you ever, ever put your life in danger for me again. I know you wanted to help me, but I think we both need to face the fact that neither of us will ever be magical again."

"But Hermione is still looking. Maybe…"

"Look at everything you went through for me, and in the end what did you gain from it? You almost died, and you lost your own powers. I don't think there's anything out there that Hermione can find that won't carry too high a price. Do you understand that? If having my powers back means I have to lose you or anyone else I love, then it isn't worth it."

Ginny nodded again. She remembered the torn-out page from the book, and how she'd Memory Charmed Hermione over that knowledge. She knew there wasn't any way to get to it. Hermione had never seen the cure on the other side of that page, and Dumbledore had convinced her that trying to go back with a Time Turner to retrieve the information was futile. In any case, the book itself dealt with the Dark Arts, so surely any possible cure would involve magic that was probably best left untouched. Again, the price was too great.

"Yes, yes, you're right. Mum is right. We just need to get on with things as best we can."

Harry was leaning close again. Ginny tipped her head up towards him. In the moment before their lips touched, he whispered against them, "As long as I've got you, I have everything I need."

Ginny closed the gap between them, putting her arms around his neck and letting herself become lost in kissing him again. They hadn't had many opportunities for this in the hospital…

"I told you to de-gnome the garden, not come out here and snog." Ginny pulled back and found her mother had come out of the house. Neither she nor Harry had heard her approach. "Do I need to send out a Howler?"

Ginny didn't think her mother really looked all that angry, so she smiled sweetly. "No thanks, Mum, we've already had one."

"I can arrange for another one. And when you're finished out here, I've got plenty for you to do inside. It's never too soon to begin learning how to do the housework without magic." She went back into the house muttering under her breath.

Harry and Ginny looked at each other. "I guess I'd best get this done," Harry said. "You just stay there and rest. Your mother is going to have enough for us to do the rest of the day."

And Harry was right about that. By supper time, Ginny had practised peeling carrots and potatoes by hand, made salad and learned how to dust without a cleaning charm. Harry had been set to folding the laundry once he'd retrieved a Muggle carpet sweeper from Mr Weasley's shed and worked out how to use it. He'd commented that most Muggles had electric appliances for the job these days, but since there was no electricity at The Burrow, he'd had to make do with a more primitive device.

Ginny had tried to complain about learning all this at once but her mother wouldn't hear it. "You don't expect to live in a pigsty, do you?" she'd asked peevishly, pointing to the potato peelings in the sink. "This will give you practice for when you're living on your own. As long as I know you can take care of yourselves, I'll have that much less to worry about."

"Mum" Ginny had protested, "I took Muggle Studies, and Harry grew up with Muggles. We'll be all right."

"I'm sure you will be, because you're going to be getting plenty of practice in."

Ginny and her mother were putting the finishing touches on the supper preparations when the rest of the family began to arrive. When Hermione got there, Apparating into the kitchen, she headed straight for Ginny.

"I can't believe how unfair the Board of Governors is being in your case," she huffed without even taking the time to say hello. "They ought to give you a chance to show what you can do, rather than just blindly saying you're expelled. You ought to demand a hearing so you can state your case. You may have to be forceful, but with any luck I'm sure you can make them listen to reason."

"Come on, Hermione, what does Ginny want to take her NEWTs for anyway?" Ron had now joined them. "They were a bloody pain in the arse. You're lucky if you've got an excuse not to take them."

"Ron!" Hermione protested. "How's she supposed to get a proper job anywhere without her NEWTs? Now I've got an idea, Ginny…"

"Have you taken up a new cause Hermione?" Ron teased. "Planning on starting a new crusade? Let's see… Ah yes… L. A. U. G. H."

"LAUGH?" asked Ginny, turning away from the gravy she was stirring for a moment. The potatoes weren't quite cooked yet, and she'd begun on the gravy in the meantime.

"No, no, no," corrected Ron. "It's L. A. U. G. H. Librarian against Unfairness to Ginny at Hogwarts."

Hermione swatted Ron's upper arm. "Honestly. Can't you be serious for once? Don't you see this affects Ginny's entire future?"

"At least it doesn't have a double meaning. Like when I looked up 'spew' in your thesaurus." Ron was waggling his eyebrows suggestively.

"You'll just have to think harder to come up with something that does, then. Just be careful you don't strain yourself."

"Oh, I can think of some nice ways I could be straining myself."

"Ron, I'd really prefer not to listen in on this," said Ginny. "There's just some things I'd rather not know about my brother, if you don't mind. Why don't you make yourself useful and help set the table? It'll give you good practice for when you've left home."

Ron had found space in a flat in Diagon Alley shared by some of his mates from work. One of them had recently married, freeing up an extra room in the place. Ron planned to move out permanently the following week.

"I couldn't believe the Governors' decision when I heard." Hermione was evidently not ready to let the subject drop. "I almost resigned in protest, but then I realised I'd be losing access to the library. I'm not as fast as you are at the translations, but I've been making progress in one of those runic texts."

"Hermione," Ginny began gently, "it's not as if I don't appreciate all you're going through, but perhaps it's time to admit there won't be a cure for Harry and me."

"But you never know what might be in those old books…"

"Have you found anything even remotely promising so far?"

"Well, no, not yet, but you just never know."

"I think it's time to give up on that, Hermione."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Ginny, I can't believe you're saying this. I know what living as a Muggle is like, and it's not easy. You've been a witch your whole life. Don't you want that back? Don't you want Harry to have that again?"

"It can't be all that bad if so many people are able to survive without magic. Is it really as difficult as all that?"

"That's not the point. The point is that you and Harry were meant to be magical. You can't just give that up."

"We have to face the fact that we're not magical anymore. We're not giving up, we're moving on."

"But Ginny you came so close this time. I'm sure if we just kept at it we could find something else."

"No! Hermione, Harry and I have talked this over, and we've decided that even if you found something it'll probably come at too high a price. I tried, and I almost died. We just don't feel as if our powers are worth that. We're going to learn to manage without them."

"Ginny, I'm sure if we worked just a bit longer."

"No! This discussion is over! We've already made our decision."

Hermione looked lost for a moment. "Well, all right, if that's how you both feel about it, but if you ever change your mind..."

Ginny put a hand on the other girl's arm, squeezing a bit. "I know, Hermione. Harry and I know you'll always be there for us. Thank you. But right now we need help in learning how to be Muggle. Perhaps you can help us with that."

She turned back to the gravy, grimacing as she saw it had begun to stick. She stirred faster, but only succeeded in scraping up the burnt bits from the bottom of the pot.

"You know I'll help you any way I can. Just tell me what you need me to do and I'll do it," Hermione said more gently.

"Well," replied Ginny. "You can start by helping me save this gravy while I finish the potatoes."

She stuck a fork into several to make sure they were cooked through, while Hermione kept an eye on the gravy. Then Ginny poured off the hot water and began mashing the potatoes by hand. A frown deepened over her face as the lumps stubbornly refused to go away even after she'd added milk and butter.

Hermione leaned over. "You know, my mum uses a mixer for that. It takes care of the lumps without tiring out your arm."

"It's a pity we haven't got one then, isn't it?" Ginny grumbled in reply.

"Yes, well, you need electricity for it to work, as well."

Ginny caught herself before she snapped at Hermione for bringing up the subject in the first place. The potatoes were going to be ruined, and it would be all her fault. But there was nothing for it now. The rest of the family was waiting. She'd just have to make the best of it.

When everyone was crowded around the magically expanded table in much the same way as they had done at Christmas, Ginny could barely bring herself to eat. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Ron take a bit of potatoes and pull a face.

"What did you do to the potatoes, Mum?" he asked. He'd evidently not noticed that Ginny had been tending to them earlier. "Are they supposed to be crunchy?"

Before Ginny's mother could say anything, Fred added, "You did something funny to the gravy as well."

Ginny's mother glared at the boys. "That'll be enough out of you. You'll eat your supper and not make comments."

"Why?" asked George. "Are you trying to poison us?" He winced as soon as he commented. Pauline had no doubt stepped on his foot.

"That will do," Ginny's mother said again. "We can do without the comments."

"It's all right, Mum," Ginny spoke up, fighting to keep her voice steady. "Listen, I did the potatoes, all right? I'm sorry."

Hermione was looking at her sympathetically. "Well you know," said Percy, "I've always found an egg makes them smoother. And Penelope's mum swears by using an electric mixer to get rid of the lumps."

Ginny was suddenly on her feet, not quite sure how she'd got there, but unable to take any more. "I said I was SORRY, ALL RIGHT?" she shouted, feeling the tears coming on. "I've done the best I can, but it's obviously not good enough! You're all just going to have to get used to it!"

Without really thinking about it, Ginny picked up the bowl of potatoes and dumped them onto Percy's head. Then she sank back down into her chair, horrified by her outburst, and buried her face in her hands. If she'd felt a bit stronger, she would have run up to her room. Utter silence fell at the table, and Ginny knew everyone was staring at her. She wished she could curl up and die. She couldn't remember feeling this embarrassed since Harry had received that valentine in her first year.

There was a hand on her shoulder, an arm pulling her close. She buried her face against Harry's neck and wished she could disappear, as his hand rubbed her upper arm soothingly.

"You know, Perce," Fred's voice sliced through the tension. "I've been reading up on the latest hair treatments, and apparently potatoes are the latest thing. They're supposed to give extra body and prevent split ends. But I think you're supposed to use gravy as part of the treatment."

"FRED!" his mother's voice cut in. Ginny imagined that her brother had been about to get rid of the burnt gravy by pouring it over Percy's head.

"Yeah," added George, "just try it in the shower next time. Much less messy that way."

"You know," came Percy's voice. Ginny had a vision of him removing the bowl from his head and wiping potato off his glasses. "I just might try that. I think this is doing something for me." There was a sound of a chair scraping across the floor. "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I'll just clean up."

Ginny didn't look up to watch him go, but she felt a presence behind her and a hand grazing across her shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze in passing. She knew it wasn't Harry; he was still soothing her arm.

"Come on," Harry said against the top of her head after a few more moments. "Let's go get you cleaned up."

The arm around her shoulder tugged encouragingly, and Ginny let him take her up to the bathroom. She didn't dare look at anyone as she left the kitchen. She was far too mortified.

They had to wait on the landing while Percy finished cleaning himself up, and when the bathroom door opened, Ginny kept her eyes glued to the floor. Percy stopped, not attempting to walk around her and Harry.

"I'm sorry if I was being a prat, Gin," Percy told her. "I can't have any idea what it's like for you right now. But I know if any of us can manage without our powers, you can. Look what you've had to put up with from the rest of us for all these years. If you can hold your own against the rest of us, you shouldn't have too much trouble adjusting. And you've got help. If you need dump things on people feel free to take it out on me."

Ginny raised her eyes to her older brother, remembering how he'd always tried his best to look out for her the two years they'd been in school together. She'd thought he was a great git, trying to fill in for their mother at the time, but she saw now that he'd only been acting out of love and concern for his sister. And he was doing it again this evening.

She forced herself to smile at him, and he ruffled her hair.

Ginny and Harry returned to their places at the table to find the meal going on as if nothing had happened. All traces of the ruined potatoes and gravy had disappeared, and everyone was tucking into what was left.

Pauline and the twins were telling everyone that business in Hogsmeade hadn't been picking up as well as they'd hoped. Gladrags had decided to rely on their London and Paris shops to remain in business and hadn't reopened their Hogsmeade branch. Other enterprises like Dervish and Banges had reopened but weren't offering as wide a product range as they had in the past. They simply couldn't afford to. As a result the entire village was still feeling the effects of last year's battle.

"There just aren't as many customers coming in," Pauline complained. "Even with Hogwarts students being allowed to visit the village again, they don't come all that often."

"Yeah," added George, "we only ever did have about two Hogsmeade weekends a term. It was never enough to rely on in the long term. The problem is with fewer shops, and those that are still in business not offering what they used to, customers just aren't finding it worth the bother to come to Hogsmeade. It's much easier for them to go to Diagon Alley and take care of everything they need at once."

"What can be done about it?" asked Percy.

"There's not a whole lot that can be done," said Fred. "We're looking into different areas we can perhaps expand the business. Joke items may be fun and all that, but at some point we just have to face the fact that it's not something we're able to sell to a broad base of clients. In the end we rely on Hogwarts for the bulk of our business, but lately that hasn't been enough to keep going."

"What area do you see yourselves moving into then?" asked their father, as he helped himself to more salad.

"That's what we haven't decided yet," said Pauline. "When you sell Dungbombs for a living, there's not many places you can expand from there."

"What about brooms?" said Ginny. She knew the twins had been very interested in Harry's designs when they'd been in to visit her in St Mungo's.

"That's a good idea, Gin," said Fred. "There's only one problem with that. It's going to put us into competition with Harry here, and I don't know if that's such a good idea for family harmony."

"I can only design a broom, though. I can't actually make one," Harry commented. "So I am going to need help if I want to try this idea out."

Pauline looked sceptical. "That's all very nice, but what do these two know about making brooms?"

"Hey, we've experimented with loads of stuff," protested George in a hurt tone.

"I bet we can learn," pouted Fred. The he got an evil gleam in his eye. "We can practise on you…"

"I don't know," said Hermione. "They might actually be able to make a good broom if they put their minds to it. Look at all the charms they know."

"Yeah," said Ron. "It'll be great if you want a broom that turns the wrong way, makes you orange, explodes in mid-air…"

"That's just it, Ron," Hermione cut in. "Explosion leads to movement. It could shoot off like a rocket."

Ron got a wicked grin on his face, and Ginny suspected his mind was working overtime on the image Hermione had just conjured there. Harry must have had the same idea, for he added quickly, before Ron had a chance to comment, "Why don't we give it a try and see where it leads? For the moment, all we'd need is an old broom to tinker with and see what we can do with it."

"Come down to the shop next week then, and we'll see what we can dig up," suggested Fred. "Mondays are usually slow."

The talk about brooms continued, and Ginny began to lose interest as the men started getting into which specific characteristics made one broom better than another. She looked at her plate and pushed the food around on it, certain her mother's roast was perfectly delicious, but unable to eat. The potato incident had ruined her appetite. Still she knew she had to make a good show of things. If she didn't at least appear to eat she had no doubt her mother would be brewing restorative potion before the evening was over.

"Ginny," Hermione was addressing her from across the table. "I didn't get a chance to tell you earlier, since we were interrupted, but I wanted to ask you about something."

"Of course, Hermione. What is it?"

"It's about your NEWTs. I think I can get some of the teachers at school on our side and perhaps that will help persuade the Board of Governors to let you take them."

"How do you plan to do that?"

"I thought I could show the Ancient Runes professor the work you did last autumn. I'm sure she'll think all those hours you put in deserve some recognition."

"Professor Stone has already seen parts of it. I thought as long as it was taking all that time to work on those translations, I might as well use what I could as part of my class work last term."

"But she hasn't seen them all."

"No, just a few pages."

"I think if she sees everything you did, she'll be impressed. She might even be willing to see if there's any sort of job you could get in the field."

"What kind of job could I get with no NEWTs?"

"That's just it. If you can convince her you're interested in the field and have the ability to do it, she might be able to influence the Board of Governors in your favour. Several of the people on the board are influential in the Ministry, and if they think you could benefit the Ministry, perhaps they'd see good reason to let you take your examinations."

"Why would I want to work for them if they won't even let me take what NEWTs I can?"

"Because they're going to let you. Once Professor Stone convinces the rest of the staff… Although I'm not too sure about Professor Snape. He's still not very happy about having his stores raided last autumn. In any case, once the rest of the staff is convinced, the Governors ought to see reason."

"According to Mum, Professor McGonagall already tried to convince them and nothing happened. If the headmistress can't talk them into it, what makes you think the staff can?"

Hermione pursed her lips and thought for a moment. Then her face lit up. "Because we're going to give them something else to think about."

"What's that?"

"Public opinion."

"What?"

"Now just hear me out, Ginny. I know you've been a victim of the press lately, but maybe we can use that to our advantage. I think you ought to give your side of the story. Tell them how you were just trying to help Harry. You only wanted to restore what he gave up when he defeated You-Know-Who, and you were cheated and lost your own powers. But you gave all that up in the name of love. And now you just want to have a chance to get a decent job so you can live, but those heartless Hogwarts Governors are refusing to let you take your NEWTs."

"Hermione, that's awful!"

"Yes, but think of the public reaction. Maybe they'll write letters. If the Governors are made to look bad, I think they'll change their minds."

Ron all of a sudden leaned over and began to inspect Hermione's hair closely. "Ron!" she snapped, swatting at him. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I dunno. I thought your hair might be going blond there for a moment. You sound just like Malfoy talking about manipulating the press and turning things to your advantage. I just wanted to make sure you were really Hermione and not some impostor on Polyjuice. Wait a minute…"

Ron began pulling strands of Hermione's hair apart once again.

"Ouch! Ron!" Hermione protested, trying to pull away.

"Will you stay put? I thought I saw something."

"If you think I've got bugs in my hair then…"

"That's exactly what I think."

"Honestly, Ron if you…"

Ron gave a final tug on Hermione's hair. "Got her! Well I'll be buggered!"

"Ronald Weasley!" his mother shouted. "I will not have language like that at my table!"

"But Mum, look!"

Ron was holding his hand closed over something. He gave his hand a firm snapping shake before uncurling his fingers. There in his hand was a fat beetle.

"That's Rita!" exclaimed Hermione. "She was here trying to get more dirt!"

"Thought so," said Ron, closing his hand again before the stunned beetle could come to her senses.

Hermione had her wand out and quickly tapped an empty wine bottle while muttering an incantation. "Quick, Ron. Put her in here!" Ron tipped his hand and Rita slid off it into the bottle. Hermione put the cork on it. "There, she can't get out now. I've put an Unbreakable Charm on the bottle so she can't try to break out by transforming."

"What are we going to do with her?"

"Hang on," said Hermione. She went over to one of the houseplants that grew in a pot on the windowsill and pulled off several leaves. Pointing her wand at them, she muttered, "Accresco semper!" Moving quickly she then uncorked the bottle and put the leaves inside before sealing it again. "There," she said, handing the bottle to Ron. "She's got a food supply now, so you can keep her as long as you like. Make a pet out of her if you want."

Ron got an evil look on his face. "You don't know what you're saying. Do you know what happened to the Puffskein I used to have?"

Fred grinned. "I remember all right. She's a bit too small to use for a Bludger, though."

"I will not have that… that bug in my house," screeched their mother. "Fred you're welcome to take her out and do whatever you want with her, but she's not going to stay in this house! Better yet," she added, getting out of her seat and going over to a drawer, "let me use her for Bludger practice!" She turned, brandishing a rolling pin.

"Now Molly," said Mr Weasley," let's think about what we're doing here."

"What's to think about? Have you forgotten how much damage this cow has caused? If it wasn't for her and her articles, some of this mess wouldn't have happened, certainly. I may not be able to do anything about that Gefinn woman, because she's a goddess, but I can take care of Rita Skeeter!"

The twins had both got to their feet and they looked as if they were ready to hold their mother back. "Careful, Mum," put in Ron. "Don't do anything that'll make me have to arrest you."

"You wouldn't dare. Your own mother." Ginny's mother made a lunge at Ron, but he dodged out of the way holding the wine bottle over his head.

"RON!" Hermione cried. "Get out of here quick and hide her where your mum can't find her!"

Ron dodged around the table and took off up the stairs. His footsteps could be heard clattering through the upper storeys as he reached his bedroom at the top of the house.

Ginny's mother looked absolutely furious. "I'll find her," she said, panting. "I'll find her and when I do…"

BANG! She slammed the rolling pin down on the table. Everyone winced.

Ginny' father was trying to coax his wife into sitting down. Penelope had gone over to the cooker and retrieved the kettle to make a pot of tea, and Ginny spotted George out of the corner of her eye. He was reaching for the bottle of Ogden's.

As hot tea was being poured out, Ron reappeared in the kitchen. "There," he said taking his place at the table with the family. "That's one cockroach taken care of. Now Mum, you're going to have to promise me something. Don't make me have to inspect your rolling pin for bug remains."

*

If Mrs Weasley found the place where Ron had hid the wine bottle containing Rita Skeeter over the course of the next few weeks, Harry didn't hear about it. He didn't think she really wanted to be responsible for the reporter's death no matter what lies had been printed about her family and loved ones in the past. Ron had been keeping an eye on the situation from his vantage point at the Ministry. So far no one had reported Rita as missing, making Harry wonder if anybody would really care if she were never heard from again.

Harry divided his time between Zonko's and The Burrow. When he wasn't discussing the broom project with the twins, he was spending time with Ginny. Mrs Weasley continued to put the two of them to work around the house, as they learned to do things Muggle-fashion. For once, Harry was somewhat grateful for having grown up in the Muggle world, since it meant he already knew how to accomplish a lot of basic tasks, and he could help Ginny learn how to get by.

He even suspected that Mrs Weasley had been in touch with Sirius and Remus, because he found himself being expected to do more chores at their house when he was there as well. Sirius seemed to take a great deal of pleasure in telling Harry what to do, and Harry imagined some of that delight was payback for the time Harry had behaved like an immature git.

If cleaning up at The Burrow hadn't afforded Ginny enough practice, Mrs Weasley had also sent Ginny to clean out Ron's new bedroom in his Diagon Alley flat. Ginny had complained loudly that Ron needed the practice more than she did and he'd probably not even bother cleaning properly, so why should she. Mrs Weasley had only needed to give Ginny a look to gain her acquiescence. She had spent the entire day at the flat, returning home exhausted at suppertime, and informing everyone that the place had been in such a state, she'd cleaned the entire flat. "We'll just see how long that lasts," she'd commented. "I doubt it'll ever be that clean again."

It was a blustery mid-March day when Harry and Ginny travelled to the Ministry of Magic using Harry's Portkey. Once their business there was finished, they were going to take care of a few more errands. Ginny had mentioned a visit to the Apothecary, and Harry had some business to take care of at Gringott's before they ventured out into Muggle London. Harry hadn't been back to the Ministry since New Year's Eve, the day the first article had appeared, and he felt oddly conspicuous as he walked through the busy corridors.

They arrived at Harry's old office and went in. Mrs Mutt's grey head was bent over a large roll of parchment. The other solicitors were hard at work, all but St John. The desk he had occupied was empty, and Harry soon saw why. Gervaise St John was sitting at Harry's former desk near the counter and the filing cabinets. He too looked to be working assiduously enough: his lips were moving as he pored through a large book, his finger tracing the fine lines of text as he read.

Harry cleared his throat to announce his presence. St John glanced up, eyes widening in surprise for a moment as he recognised Harry, before going back to his tome.

Harry decided to speak up. He knew he wouldn't disturb the others. They had silencing charms around their desks to limit distractions. "Excuse me," he called in St John's direction, "but I've got an appointment to see Mr Hill. Would you mind telling him I'm here?"

St John didn't even bother raising his head this time. He went on pointing to the words he was working out. His finger stopped for a moment, and Harry imagined he was sounding out a particularly long word. Harry nudged Ginny and commented to her loudly, "Oh, looks like he's stuck. I reckon he's come across a four-syllable word there."

St John continued to ignore the both of them. Harry began to drum his fingers on the counter while he wondered whether Mrs Mutt's pet name for the git would be enough to attract his attention.

Mrs Mutt, in the meantime, must have looked up and seen them standing there. She was coming out from behind her desk, calling over to St John, "Didn't you notice there's someone standing at the counter waiting for you?"

St John shot a surly look in Mrs Mutt's direction and muttered loudly enough for Harry to catch, "If they were of any importance I would have noticed them."

"Well don't bother yourself now, dear," Mrs Mutt replied sarcastically. "Don't mind him," she added to Harry and Ginny. "He hasn't improved any over the last few months. Still as much of a--" she used her favourite word for him "-- as ever."

Harry smiled at Mrs Mutt. If he missed anybody in this office it would be her. "I've got an appointment to see Mr Hill," he informed her.

"Oh, that's fine, dear. He ought to be ready to see you in a few minutes. I got your owl, by the way. I'm taking care of it for you. I can tell Ginny about that while you're in taking to Hill."

"Thank you," Harry replied, "that would be great."

The door to Hill's office opened then, and Hill himself emerged. "Ah, Harry," he said jovially, much to Harry's relief. He hadn't been completely certain of the sort of reception he'd get from his former boss. "Come in, come in. What can I do for you?"

Harry entered Hill's office and took the seat he was offered, swallowing nervously. "I suppose I'm mainly here to apologise for walking out of my job," Harry began. "I know I've left you short-handed at a time when this office has been busier than usual."

"I see," replied Hill. "I won't lie to you. Your departure did leave us rather in a bind."

"I'm sorry about that, sir. I don't know what else to say."

Hill waved a hand at him. "There's no need to explain. There's been enough about it in the Prophet, and I've talked to Arthur Weasley. I understand you had other things on your mind."

"But not coming in to work and not even giving you any sort of notice… That was irresponsible of me."

"Yes, it was, but I also understand that work was the last thing on your mind. For something you wanted kept secret to be exposed in such a shocking manner… I just can't imagine. You know in the Muggle world, they have laws against such things. Perhaps…"

"It doesn't matter," Harry said quickly. He really didn't want to get into a discussion about Rita Skeeter. He didn't want to call the Ministry's attention to her. It would put the Weasleys in a very difficult position if anyone noticed she'd gone missing. "I should have known I couldn't keep something like that secret, and that it would become generally known one way or another. The true story is out there now, so I'm willing to let it drop."

"Are you sure about that?"

"Yes."

"I can see why Arthur Weasley recommended you so highly."

Harry's insides squirmed with guilt, since if he'd had a choice, he'd have done whatever it took to silence Rita's poisoned quill permanently. "Thank you, sir," he muttered.

"I want you to know, there's no hard feelings on my part, Harry. If there's anything I can do for you, I'll be happy to do it. If you want a recommendation for another position, I'll be glad to give you one. I know you weren't completely satisfied with your job here, but you did the best you could under the circumstances. If you like, I can see if there's an opening in another department. Something that wouldn't require magic."

Harry had hardly expected this. He gaped for a moment. "I… Thank you. But I don't know. I really don't think I'm cut out to work in an office."

"Do you have something else in mind then?"

"Well, yes. Something I'd like to try in any case."

"Then I can do no more than wish you the best of luck with whatever you undertake. And if there's ever anything I can do for you, you'll let me know, all right?" Hill looked as if he was ready to stand and offer Harry his hand.

"Sir, I really am sorry for leaving you in the lurch. I wanted to see if I could make it up to you."

"Unless you know of someone who would be willing to fill your old position, I really don't see what you can do."

"That's just it. I've got a friend. One of my best friends, Hermione Granger. She'd be perfect for this. She's the cleverest person I know, and she loves books and research and things like that."

"Someone like that must already have a job."

"She does, but it's not really what she wants, I don't think. She's working in the Hogwarts library at the moment, but she only took that job to have access to the books so she could try to find a cure for me."

"I see. Well, if she's interested, have her send me an owl, and I'll talk to her."

"I'll tell her. I think you'll be getting an owl from her within a few days."

Hill rose this time and extended a hand. "I was serious before. If there's anything I can do…"

"Thank you," replied Harry, shaking Hill's hand and relieved that this meeting had gone so well.

"I imagine I'll be seeing you in a few months if not before," Hill remarked as Harry was turning to leave. "You'll be at the memorial, won't you?"

Harry stopped. "What memorial?"

"The Ministry is planning a memorial in Hogsmeade for the one-year anniversary of Voldemort's defeat. It hasn't been announced publicly yet, but I thought Arthur might have mentioned it at home."

"No, he hasn't mentioned anything to me. But I'm not living at the Weasleys' any more." Harry's mind was whirling with the idea of the memorial. He'd been thinking there ought to be something since Christmas. He also had a suspicion that the Ministry would try to make a big deal about his role in the defeat and simply pay lip-service to those who had died. "What sort of memorial are they planning. Do you know?"

"I haven't heard all that much. I imagine it's going to be the usual sort of thing. Lots of speeches from officials, things like that."

"If they're going to do it properly, they need to remember everyone who died in this. Everyone seems to know about those who died the first time around, but so much if it was kept quiet this time… They ought to read the names off or something. Better yet, some sort of monument. Something that will be there for a long time. And it should be everyone from the very beginning. Not just those who fought, but those who died in attacks. Everyone who died at Voldemort's hands. Do you think the Ministry has a way of finding all the names?"

Hill thought for a moment. "Yes, I think they do have that, or at least they can find out. The current Minister isn't in denial about things the was Fudge was. I think she'd be open to the idea."

"It has to have all the names from the very beginning. Starting with Bertha Jorkins and Frank Bryce."

"Frank Bryce? I thought Cedric was the first."

"Frank Bryce was a Muggle, but he still died at Voldemort's hand. Cedric was the fourth."

Harry paused to swallow, and then the words began to come faster and faster. "People don't know what really happened, but they should. They think he came back the night Cedric died, but it started before then. It started with Bertha Jorkins' disappearance, and then Frank Bryce was killed. And then Bartemius Crouch. He was also killed in order to pave the way for Voldemort's return. People have to know, so if things ever start to happen again, they'll be forewarned. Maybe they'll be more vigilant if they know. So the story has to come out. The first three names are Bertha Jorkins, Frank Bryce and then Bartemius Crouch. And then comes Cedric. And I want him down as the Triwizard Champion. I want that by his name. People have to know." His voice had taken on a pleading tone.

"Yes, I agree, they ought to be told," Hill replied after a moment. "And I think you're the one who ought to do it. You know more about this than anyone."

"I don't know about that, but if there's some sort of stone with all this on it, then they wouldn't need me to give them the story. It would be there for all to see."

Hill was rummaging in his desk. He pulled out a quill and some parchment after a few moments. "Now, give me those names again."

Harry complied, and then he shook Hill's hand and said goodbye.

He went back into the main office to find Ginny still chatting with Mrs Mutt. As they took their leave, St John couldn't resist a parting shot.

"What a waste of pure blood!" he muttered, but it was loud enough for Harry to hear.

Before anyone else had a chance to react, Mrs Mutt pulled her wand out of her pocket. A jet of light struck St John and he disappeared. The next thing Harry saw was a large brown cockroach scuttling across the floor, fleeing the light of the office for the nearest crack.

"I'm tempted to step on him, but then I'd be in trouble," Mrs Mutt commented.

"But he's disappeared now," Ginny said. "How will you turn him back if you can't find him?"

"Oh, he can stay that way. Believe it or not, he's more pleasant like that. Don't worry, it won't last long. He'll probably transfigure back on his own, once he's in his own element."

"His own element?"

"Yes, dear, a rubbish heap."

To Be Continued…