Soft sunlight filtering through the gauzy hangings fell across Harry's face, waking him to its gentle warmth. He lay there for a few moments, staring at the spot where the ray of sun bathed the muted blue walls in its glow. He reckoned he ought to be used to wakening in this room after almost two months, but a sense of newness about it lingered.

Ginny was still asleep beside him, stretched out on her stomach, breathing calmly and evenly. Harry propped his head up on one hand so he could watch her sleep. The sunbeam fell across her face as well, striking her hair as it fanned out on the pillow and lighting its iridescent fire. Carefully he reached out and touched a strand of it, picking it up and letting it flow between his fingers. He reached out a finger and traced another lock of hair starting at her head and continuing down to the bare skin of her back. He was torn now between letting her sleep and finding an interesting way of waking her up.

Two months. They'd been married for almost two months already. He hadn't quite known how the family would take the news but once the original shock had worn off, the Weasleys had all been quite happy for him and Ginny. Mrs Weasley had insisted they go back to Hogsmeade for a proper honeymoon, and they had returned to a party and to find Ginny's room had been redecorated in their absence. And since that day Mrs Weasley had been very good about giving them space. What might have been an awkward situation had turned out to be anything but. It had helped matters a great deal in that regard when one of the twins had let slip the liberal use of permanent silencing charms around the room.

But now even this interlude in their lives would be coming to an end. Next week he and Ginny would be truly moving on, out of The Burrow and into a small whitewashed house of their own. They'd gone for a walk into the village one day and discovered a two-bedroom bungalow in a lane just off the main road that was available for rent. Upon closer inspection it wasn't difficult to see why. The place needed work, paint for the most part, but since they were willing to do the work themselves, the owner had given them a break on the rent.

Mrs Weasley had tried to talk Harry and Ginny into waiting until Ginny had sat her NEWTs before striking out on their own, but both Harry and Ginny had privately agreed it was time. The longer they stayed at The Burrow, the more difficult it would be to leave. Even though Mrs Weasley still insisted that Ginny help out with the housework, it wasn't the same as having a place of their own.

The prospect was at once nerve-wracking and exciting, but they'd be close enough to Ginny's family that they wouldn't have to worry too much. Ginny's brothers were going to help with the renovations and cast wards over the house for protection. Mr Weasley had been in his element as he'd offered the couple various items from his shed, and he'd gone into fits over the Muggle gadgetry that was already in place in the house. Mrs Weasley had insisted on several occasions that they come back for supper at The Burrow as often as they liked so Ginny could devote more time to her studies. Both Harry and Ginny would have their Portkeys for travel in the wizarding world, and Harry planned on taking driving lessons over the summer and buying a car so he and Ginny wouldn't look too strange to their Muggle neighbours.

All that was still in the future, however. More immediate in Harry's mind was the day ahead of him. Today was the first anniversary of the battle in Hogsmeade, and the monument to the victims of Voldemort would be unveiled. Harry had received an owl from the Ministry of Magic asking him to participate in the ceremony, and his stomach gave a nervous lurch at the thought of what he was expected to do. If he thought he could have refused gracefully, he would have, but he knew it would look odd if he did so.

He placed his hand in the centre of Ginny's back, gently caressing the warm expanse of skin there. She shifted and stretched in her sleep. If nothing else they would have to get up soon to get ready. Brushing the hair away from her neck, Harry leaned over and nuzzled. Ginny responded by rolling over into his arms.

He held her close to him, his arms tightening around her as a sudden image, very real, flooded his mind. It had been sunny a year ago today. The light had penetrated the cracks between the boards over the windows of the Shrieking Shack. His breath expelled itself in a shudder. He was going to need her today.

Ginny sensed his need. She was awake now, lifting her head to look into his eyes, and no words were necessary between them. He could see the concern welling up in her eyes, even as she shook off the last vestiges of sleep. Then she brought up a hand to trace the contours of his face as she leaned in to kiss him, rolling to lie across his chest while under the covers her other hand began to ease downward towards his waist as she slipped it around his back to pull him closer…

A good while later, Ginny lay sprawled across Harry's chest as they waited for their heart-rates and breathing to return to normal. She'd given him the sweet oblivion he'd been craving for a time, but they could linger here no longer. As unappealing as the idea was, it was time to think about getting up. He stirred, and she raised her head to look at him with a rather bleary-eyed expression, as if she'd been about to drop off once more.

"Time to get up if we don't want to be late," Harry told her.

Ginny raised herself up, but made no move to get off of him right away. She bent her head and placed a kiss in the centre of his chest, directly over the spot where he still bore a gem-shaped burn mark. "I love you, Harry," she said before climbing out of bed.

They dressed and joined Mr and Mrs Weasley for a quick breakfast in the kitchen. It seemed strange to Harry to realise that they were the only ones left in the house. Everyone else had already moved out. And in another week, Mr and Mrs Weasley would be left alone here. He wondered how empty the house would seem to Mrs Weasley when her husband was at work all day. Of course she must be used to a version of this already. It might merely seem to her as if her children were all away at school, but somehow Harry knew she'd feel differently about it this time. He could almost imagine her bringing leftovers to their new house, claiming she wasn't used to cooking for two.

Before long they'd cleaned up the kitchen and travelled to Hogsmeade, Harry and Ginny making use of his Portkey while Mr and Mrs Weasley Apparated. The ceremony itself wasn't to begin until later in the morning, but since Harry was participating, he was expected to arrive early for the final preparations.

They walked to the end of town, where a platform had been erected and space had been cleared to receive the anticipated crowds. Harry wondered for a moment if there would be the same numbers of people turn out for this event as there had been last October. He hoped so; he hoped there would be more. There should be more. Those who had died deserved it.

To the side of the platform, he could see the place where the monument stood, very tall, pointing into the sky, and covered by a large drapery. But Harry's eye was drawn beyond the monument to a nondescript rise further outside of the village. To anyone else the spot would mean nothing, but this was a place to which Harry had never returned or indeed even looked at in a year. But he recognised it deep within himself. There was the spot from which Voldemort had disappeared forever a year ago.

If Harry looked just a few feet in front of it, he'd see the place where he had stood. And fallen, powerless.

He couldn't go there just now. He was being ushered up to the platform to join the other participants. With a final squeeze, Ginny let go of his hand, and Harry went with the Ministry official to receive his final instructions.

He was relieved to recognise some of the others present. Sirius was there, and it was a comfort to know his godfather would be nearby. Badon Hill nodded to him in passing. Then he recognised another wizard, someone he'd met only once before last autumn. Albus Dumbledore's brother was there on the platform as well, and he wasn't alone. Fawkes was perched on his shoulder, and the phoenix let out a soft note when he saw Harry. Harry thought of the final conversation he'd had with the portrait of his former mentor; the old headmaster had said Fawkes was with a new guardian and Harry couldn't think of anyone more appropriate.

There was not time for any small talk, however. The participants were being walked through the ceremony now. By the time they'd finished, people were beginning to arrive on the scene. Harry was able to recognise the Weasley family by their vibrant hair. Ginny was standing off to one side with her parents. George and Pauline had already joined them, but Fred was nowhere in sight at the moment. He watched the Weasleys, hoping Ginny would turn and look in his direction, but she seemed to be caught up in talking to the others. As Harry watched, Ron and Hermione joined their group followed by Percy and Penny.

Harry took his place on the platform and waited with the others for the ceremony to begin. The day was growing hot, and Harry's dress robes began to weigh on his shoulders uncomfortably. The crowd below was growing larger, reminding him of the previous autumn's gathering in Diagon Alley, in spite of the contrast. While last Halloween had been a dull, grey day, today was bright and sunny; while on that day the throngs had turned out in their most colourful robes, the people below were now dressed in more sombre hues; while Harry had had his friends -- most especially Ginny -- next to him then, she was standing with her family now, but at least they were no longer separated.

The Minister for Magic had moved to stand in the middle of the platform now. It was about to begin. The crowd quieted. As Eugenia Smythe-Snepperton began to speak to the assembly, Harry looked up into the sky. From the angle of the sun, Harry could tell it was about the same time of day that he and the others had left the Shrieking Shack to take up their positions for the coming battle.

Harry tried to make himself follow the Minister for Magic's speech, but he couldn't prevent the images of a year ago from distracting him. Rather than listening to the words of the present, his own memories were engulfing him now.

"Artemis and Mordecai Prewett. September 17, 1973."

They had begun to read the names of Voldemort's victims, starting with his first reign of terror. Harry knew he ought to pay better attention. His part would be coming up. But the number of names being read off was impossibly long…

"Susannah and Stanilsas Bones. March 23, 1976."

The dates were getting closer to the present. He had to concentrate, but he couldn't.

"Lily and James Potter. October 31, 1981."

Harry started to attention, as the names of his parents seemed to echo through time and space. His eye fell upon Ginny amid the crowd. She was looking at him, watching his reaction. He began to rise for his part, but the Minister for Magic was stepping forward again, asking everyone to observe a few minutes of silence for the first wave of victims before they continued.

The crowd complied and everything went utterly still. The sun beat down from the zenith on Harry's head, and his memories threatened to take over once again. But somewhere in the distance a birdsong called him back to the here and now, and at the Minister's signal, he stood.

Harry paused for a moment and turned his back to the onlookers both to collect himself and to allow Sirius to perform a Sonorus Charm on him. Then he reached into his pocket with a sweaty palm and pulled out the piece of parchment on which he had prepared his text. He didn't really need it, since there were only four names on it and he'd been an eyewitness to two of the deaths listed there, but he felt more secure with it in his hand, and he held it up in front of him as if it was a shield.

"These…" he began hoarsely, but he has to clear his throat before he went on. "These are the first four deaths of Voldemort's second rising. You may be unaware of the first two or three, but perhaps it's all the more important you know the names and circumstances for that very reason."

As Harry spoke, he was aware of movement out of the corner of his eye. Several wizards were moving into place around the monument.

"Bertha Jorkins. Summer of 1994. Exact date unknown. She held a position in the Department of Magical Games and Sports and unfortunately decided to take a summer holiday in Albania where she met up with Peter Pettigrew at an inn. He brought her before Voldemort who probed her memory for whatever information she could give him. When she was no longer of any use to him, he callously killed her."

Harry noted a flash of white to his left. The stone had been unveiled, a monolith of white marble.

"Frank Bryce. August 14, 1994. Frank was a Muggle and worked as the caretaker in the house where Tom Riddle lived. Tom Riddle, Senior was Voldemort's father, and when Voldemort returned to England in the late summer of 1994, he used his father's then-abandoned house as a hideout. Frank was killed when he noticed a presence in the house, went to investigate and overheard Voldemort's plans.

"Bartemius Crouch, Senior. May 24, 1995. He was the head of the Department of International Co-operation and was killed by his own son in Voldemort's service. He'd spent the previous months under the Imperius Curse, but by May he'd begun to break through it. He came to Hogwarts to alert Dumbledore, but his son, who had disguised himself as Alastor Moody using Polyjuice Potion, got to him first and killed him."

Harry paused here and sought out Ginny for reassurance. Whenever he'd looked up at the crowd during the foregoing speech, his eye had been drawn in the Weasleys' direction. Now as his eye travelled back to his place on the parchment, he caught a glimpse of black hair, and he looked on the face of Cho Chang. She nodded slightly and he nodded back before continuing.

"Cedric Diggory. June 24, 1995. Prefect for Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff Quidditch Captain, and Tri-wizard Champion. He was murdered in cold blood by Peter Pettigrew simply for being at the wrong place at the wrong time, like so many other victims. He took the Tri-wizard Cup with me and we were Portkeyed into Voldemort's presence. They only wanted me. Cedric was in the way, so he was killed for no other reason than that."

There was another silence as Harry regained his seat. Sirius put a hand on Harry's shoulder and squeezed before pointing his wand at Harry's throat and muttering, "Quietus."

The next person rose and began reciting more names and dates while Harry fought a quiet battle within himself to remain in the present.

"…Rubeus Hagrid…"

"… Justin Finch-Fletchley…"

"…Hannah Abbott…"

"…Cornelius Fudge…" More names of people Harry did not know. "…Charlie Weasley… Stewart Ackerley… Albus Dumbledore…"

They were almost at the end, and when it was reached, there was another period of silence.

Then, one by one, others got up to speak. Each speaker had known one of the dead on the memorial stone. When Sirius rose to tell how Charlie had saved his life, Harry watched the Weasleys closely and thought of how much had changed in just over a year.

When Sirius was finished, Aberforth Dumbledore rose, and his speech was perhaps the most remarkable of all.

"The others who have spoken have all told you of the past, remembering comrades and loved ones," he said in his magically amplified voice. "I have decided that my brother would rather we look to the future, and in doing so I am reminded of one of the goals he had. That goal was to take away the fear of a name. For it is fear more than anything that blinds us and paralyses us. Cornelius Fudge, the previous Minister for Magic, chose this route when he decided to deny to the world that Voldemort had returned. It did not save his life, however. Now Voldemort is gone, but most of our world still avoids saying his name. And so today, I invite you to honour my brother's memory and cast aside your fear and say the name out loud with me. Voldemort."

A few voices joined Aberforth's. "Come on, you can do better than that," he intoned. Voldemort!"

Several more joined him this time. "Let's try again. Everyone now. Say the name. Shout it! And as you do, think, 'Never again!' Voldemort!"

The noise was deafening this time as thousands of voices rose as one.

"One last time now. Shout the name and say never again!"

"VOLDEMORT! NEVER AGAIN!" Harry lifted his voice with the others.

The ceremony was over. The crowd was beginning to mingle. Harry looked up at the sky and saw that the sun had fallen from noon. It was now halfway towards the horizon. A shiver passed through him in spite of the heat.

Now. It was now he'd detached. He felt himself doing it again. He'd lost sight of his family in the crowd. He no longer heard the chatter. People might have spoken to him, but their words did not reach his ears. His feet began to move of their own accord in the direction of the monument, but his eyes did not see it. They were fixed on a spot beyond where everyone was gathering to read the names engraved on the white marble.

The memories had taken over now, and Harry had no choice but to relive them.

A pair of loving arms encircled him; a soft body pressed against his back. Harry didn't have to look to see who it was. Somehow Ginny had sensed his need and followed him.

Harry let Ginny turn him in her arms and enfold him in an embrace. "This is it, isn't it?" she asked him quietly. "This is the spot."

Harry nodded against her shoulder. "I've been seeing it all day. Images. The last day. The last day I had any powers." His breath hitched and he couldn't go on.

Ginny pulled him closer to her, and the tears slipped out quietly into her hair. Harry wasn't even sure what he was mourning at this point: his powers or those who had made a greater sacrifice than he had. Maybe it was a little of both.

They stood thus for a long time, it seemed. It was peaceful here away from the crowd. There was nothing left to indicate that the decisive moment had occurred on this spot. New grass grew over the rise, dotted with wildflowers. Nature itself had used the preceding year to cover over the scars of battle and cleanse the spot.

At last Harry pulled back and put an arm around Ginny's shoulder, turning them both to look out across what had been a battlefield. Harry could still remember what it looked like when it had been pitted and strewn with bodies. "I don't regret it," he said. "It was worth it in the end. I may not have any powers left, but I've got more than I thought I'd ever have. Come on, I'm ready to go back."

Together they walked towards the monument. In spite of the numbers of people gathered around it, there was an eerie silence. The onlookers spoke in whispers, out of respect for the names engraved on the stone. The crowd parted before Harry and Ginny, allowing them to approach, almost as if they recognised that Harry ought to have the right to pay his respects before anyone else. Ron and Hermione were in the front near the stone, but even they said nothing for the moment, nodding wordlessly in greeting as Harry came to stand beside them.

The monument was made up of six faces soaring towards the sky and ending in a point. A number was carved at the top of each face: a year followed by the names of those who had given their lives over the course of those twelve months. The first face bore only two names, those of Bertha Jorkins and Frank Bryce, along with a brief description of who they were. The second face, headed 1995, began with Bartemius Crouch, Senior, followed by Cedric Diggory, Tri-Wizard Champion. And after that came other names, still relatively few in number. The third side held many, many more, including Hagrid, but the fourth and fifth sides held the most.

On these sides, there began to appear names of witches and wizards from other countries. French names, German names, Slavic names… Not far apart in the list Harry noticed the names of Aidan Lynch and Nadia Ivanova. They'd opposed each other at the Quidditch World Cup, but they'd been on the same side when things really mattered. And they were both gone now.

On the face headed 1998 near the bottom began to appear those who had died in the final battle. Albus Dumbledore was there, but his was not the last name on the list. Harry also noted the names of Professors Sinistra and Grubbly-Plank, followed by a few other names. There was space at the bottom of this side for more names. Beside him, Ginny reached out and ran her fingers over Charlie's name, which was inscribed further up the face.

The final side was left completely blank, and to Harry it seemed both a sign of hope and a warning. It was hopeful in the sense that the stonecutter hadn't needed any more space for more names, but at the same time, it was as if the designer was trying to make a statement to the wizarding world not to make another stonecutter come and be obliged to engrave more names on the monument. Harry heard the words never again rising from thousands of voices echo through his mind, and a shiver passed through him. Beside him, he felt Ginny squeeze his hand.

It was time to step back and allow others to pay their respects. Harry, Ginny, Ron and Hermione moved off and let others take their place at the stone. No one spoke a word, each seemingly lost in his thoughts, as they walked over to join the rest of the Weasley family, which had gathered in the shade of the Zonko's building.

Even George seemed subdued, as the family stood and began to discuss the day's proceedings. Names from the monument were mentioned: classmates, friends, parents of friends, teachers, people they'd never known.

Suddenly Ginny realised someone was missing. "Where's Fred?" she asked.

"He said he'd be back," replied Pauline. "He ran into someone."

"Who?" asked Ron.

"Some girl he's had on his mind for over a year," replied George.

"Honestly," said Hermione rolling her eyes. "Can't he ever be serious for once?"

"Oh, I think he's quite serious," said George. "More serious than I've ever seen him."

"Well, who is this then?" asked Mrs Weasley. "Have I ever met her?"

"Don't know if you have, Mum," replied George. "She was still at Hogwarts last year when he first met her. A Ravenclaw named Ami. He's been after her to go out with him ever since."

"Oh," said Hermione. "I know her. She was in my Arithmancy classes. She's quite nice, but she's always got something going on. Fred will have his hands full if he ever gets together with her."

"Yes, well it would be nice to have someone who will keep him on his toes," remarked Ginny. "Perhaps he won't get into as much trouble that way."

Mrs Weasley looked sceptical. "I don't know if the girl who can stay one step ahead of Fred exists, but if she does, I'd like to meet her."

After a while the family decided to split up. Mrs Weasley had supper preparations to see to, and some of the others decided to look for Fred, who still hadn't turned up. Harry and Ginny went through the crowds, keeping an eye out for red hair. Harry thought the village didn't look as sad as it had in the past few weeks. The merchants who were left had made an effort to brighten the place up with fresh paint, cleaning charms and summer flowers.

While they never did meet up with Fred, they managed to run into quite a few of their former classmates. It looked as if Colin and Parvati were still a couple. They were walking arm in arm amidst the crowd when they spotted Harry and Ginny and came over to say hello.

"How are you enjoying married life?" asked Parvati, beaming. "I knew it was going to happen. I predicted it. Do you remember, Harry?"

Harry forced a smile and nodded, but inside he felt rather self-conscious. He also wondered to himself why she'd bothered chasing after him last year if she'd known all along that he and Ginny were destined for each other.

As they were chatting, Seamus and Lavender came to say hello as well, and after a bit more small talk and more congratulations, their former classmates decided to go to the Three Broomsticks for some refreshment. Harry and Ginny declined their invitation to join them, and continued to search for Fred in the crowd.

Ginny came across Professor Stone, her Ancient Runes teacher, and introduced her to Harry. Professor Stone seemed quite enthusiastic about Ginny's job prospects once she'd taken her NEWTs.

They also met up with Mrs Mutt who gleefully passed along some gossip that made Harry wonder whether she'd succeeded in breaking her confidentiality oath. It seemed that Gervaise St John had managed to bring his first case before the Council of Magical Law but had managed to blow what should have been a straightforward conviction.

"Are you sure you're allowed to tell us this?" Harry asked her.

"It's not a problem, since it'll be in the papers at some point. The trial's a matter of public record now. The best part of it is, Hill's sure to sack him. Your friend Hermione does such a good job for us that we don't need him anymore. Hill's quite impressed with her, and St John has become more of a liability than anything else. In fact, Hermione is the best clerk we've had since I can remember."

"Oh well, thanks for the vote of confidence," remarked Harry.

Mrs Mutt's eyes sparked with humour. "No offence to you, dear. It was a great improvement to have you in the office, but I think we all know your heart wasn't really in it."

Harry smiled. "Yeah, I know that, and I wasn't offended. If I'd wanted to come back, I could have."

"I just want you to know if there's anything more I can do for either of you, let me know."

"That's very nice of you, Mrs Mutt," said Ginny, "but my father's been taking care of our paperwork for us. We're getting ready to move into a house of our own. Why don't you come see us once we get settled?"

"How kind of you, dear. I'd love to."

They said goodbye to Mrs Mutt and moved on. It wasn't long before they'd spotted Percy coming out of the Three Broomsticks. "We've found Fred in there," Percy told Harry and Ginny jerking his head back towards the inn. "He's managed to convince that girl to go for drinks with him, but he'll be along. You may as well go back to The Burrow. Tell Mum the rest of us will be along."

"We'll go back in just a bit," Ginny told her brother. "See you later!"

"Is there anything else you wanted to do?" Harry asked her, as they moved off into the crowd again.

"Not really, but I wondered… Are you going to be all right? I know today can't have been easy for you."

"I'll be all right," Harry replied. Ginny looked at him sceptically. "Honestly I will be. You're right, this hasn't been an easy day for me, but… I don't know how to explain it. I did need this today. Yes, I wanted everyone to know who the real heroes were. And I think we all needed to say goodbye. Now that it's over, I think I'm going to be fine."

"We'll both be fine."

"Yes."

But they were headed back towards the field. Harry wasn't entirely sure whether she'd decided he needed to go back or he'd set his own feet on that path, but within a few minutes they were standing on the spot once again. Harry put an arm around Ginny, and she laid her hear on his shoulder, while he looked one last time at the place where he'd banished Voldemort. He closed his eyes and called up the images of that day, but they didn't affect him the way they had earlier. They would always be a fundamental part of him, but they could no longer hold any power over him. They were part of the past and could be set aside.

After a while Ginny raised her head and asked, "Are you ready?"

"Yeah," he replied. "Let's go home."

*

It seemed like an eternity since she'd been imprisoned. She could only vaguely remember waking up to find her entire world had turned green. At the time it had struck her as funny, until she'd realised that the air was somehow heady with the odour of fermented grapes. Then she'd fallen back to sleep, and when she'd woken once again, head pounding, her circumstances did not seem the least bit humorous.

By her calculations that had been months ago. She was thoroughly tired of the colour green by now. Once she managed to get out of this predicament, she was going to burn all her green robes, and buy new ones of magenta, vivid purple and orange. Green may once have been her house colour, but this was more than any human -- or insect -- could stand.

To make matters worse, the only thing she'd had to sustain her for all these months had been a few leaves, which had been charmed so that they kept growing. She was heartily tired of them, but her body demanded nourishment, and it was either the leaves or starvation.

Or it had been up until a few weeks ago. She had no idea what had happened -- indeed she had no idea where she was -- but somehow her glass-walled prison had been knocked on its side. Not enough to shatter it, unfortunately, but it was something. Now she could reach the cork easily.

In the early days, she'd tried to dislodge the cork by flying up into the narrow space at the top and knocking against the cork bodily. But she'd never been able to get any sort of leverage that way and had only succeeded in tiring herself to the point of falling onto her back on several occasions. Then she'd been obliged to batter helplessly at the air with her six legs until she'd managed to right herself once more, but mostly it only served to fatigue her further. There were times when being stuck in insect form was most annoying.

But since the bottle had been tipped onto its side, she'd been able to crawl up to the cork and gnaw on it. It tasted about the same as she imagined cardboard would, but it was a change in menu from the leaves. The process was slow going, but she'd been making progress. With any sort of luck she might get out today.

It would be like heaven to assume her human form once again. She barely remembered what that felt like.

Strengthening her resolve, she crawled along the slippery surface until she'd reached the cork once more and began her feast. Only yesterday, she'd made a small hole to the outside, allowing the tiniest entry for fresh air to waft in. If she thought about things rationally, she'd have known the air coming in smelled of dust, heat and humidity, but to her it was like a spring breeze after months of stale, wine-tainted air.

She could breathe in the new air now, and it gave her hope. She began to gnaw faster. Soon… Soon she would be free. And then she'd see. She'd see what she could do to those who had so rashly imprisoned her.

The cork began to wobble a bit in the bottleneck. She'd managed to eat enough of it to loosen its grip on the bottle. Just a little more, and she might be able to push it out.

She kept on, encouraged. Perhaps she could make the hole large enough that she could squeeze through it. She'd always been rather fat in beetle form, but she was sure she'd lost some weight after months of her forced diet.

The cork was much looser now. Just a few more bites, and then a shove or two and she'd be free. She returned to her work with renewed vigour, knowing the end of her imprisonment was attainable. She had only to reach out and grasp it.

With one final heave, she finally worked the cork out of the bottle and crept to freedom. She found herself in a darkened room smelling of dust and age. There were things stored here: boxes and old pieces of furniture covered with old sheets. An attic then. She looked about for any hint of light. There must be a window or a hole in the roof. Some way to the outside. She couldn't risk transforming here. This was still enemy territory.

Finally she found what she was looking for: a broken window that hadn't been properly repaired. There was enough room for her to squeeze her way out into the darkness. The air outside was cooler and smelled of early summer. It felt good to stretch her wings after all those months of imprisonment.

For a while she flew about just for the joy of it, but she found herself easily fatigued. The months of inactivity, combined with the efforts she'd just made to escape and the limited diet had taken their toll. She had to find a place to rest. Spotting a tree nearby, she alit on a branch.

After she'd taken a few moments to rest, she became aware of voices and laughter ringing through the night. Her senses immediately went on the alert. She had to get closer and see what they were saying. If they could provide her with the means for her revenge, so much the better.

She spread her wings and took off once more, following the sound of the voices. They seemed to be coming from the other side of the house, where a faint multicoloured glow could be seen illuminating the darkness. As she flew nearer, she could hear snatches of conversation.

"How are you enjoying the job at the Ministry, Hermione?"

"Come off it, Dad. You know she's not allowed to talk about it."

"Honestly, Ron, I'm allowed to say if I like it or not. As a matter of fact I do. It's quite a challenge. When I got there, the filing system was in a terrible state, but I've reorganised the entire thing…"

"Are you and Ginny all ready for the big move, Harry?"

"As ready as we'll ever be."

It was perfect. They were all assembled for some reason or another. She was sure to get something good. She approached cautiously, flitting about and looking for the best vantage point. It was difficult with all the various coloured lights distracting her.

Something made a sharp buzzing sound, and several of the people sitting outside jumped. Several oohs and ahhs were heard. Looking for the source of their amusement, she saw it. The light. It was the most beautiful light she'd ever seen. It shone into the darkness amidst all the lesser lights like a beacon, blindingly white with a purplish cast to it. She had to get closer. It was the most fascinating thing. It was enough to make her forget to listen in on the conversation entirely.

She had to get closer. It was beckoning to her. It was as if her mind was no longer her own. She circled about the metallic cage that encompassed it. That poor light! It was imprisoned just as she had been. Well, she'd managed to escape; perhaps she could help the light as well. All she needed to do was get closer. Perhaps enter the cage and attack from within. Maybe the light had tried on its own but was too exhausted from its efforts. She would rescue it, and then it would be hers. Her very own light. She would become one with it. She flew between the bars…

*

ZAP!

As one the Weasleys jumped. The noise coming from Mr Weasley's bug zapper, as Hermione called it, had been the loudest yet.

"Wow. That must have been a big one!" exclaimed Fred, whom Percy had finally managed to pry away from Ami and drag back to The Burrow.

"Yeah," added George. "So big we'll still find its guts on that thing in the morning."

"Honestly, must you be so graphic about it?" said Hermione, pulling a face.

"Yeah, well as long as it's not Rita Skeeter," said Ron, laughing.

"Ron…" Hermione sounded horrified. "You don't think…"

"Of course not. It was only a joke."

"Ron, have you been to check on her lately? Maybe it's time to think about letting her go."

"Why? No one seems to have missed her. I've been checking the reports. It's been almost four months and no one has reported her missing yet."

"Yes, why indeed," added Mrs Weasley. "Let her rot, I say."

"So, Harry," said Mr Weasley bringing the topic of conversation back to where it had been before they were interrupted. "I was going to make arrangements with the Floo Regulation Panel to have your fireplace connected. It could come in useful. Have you got a name picked out for the place yet?"

"Er, not really," replied Harry. "I haven't given it much thought."

"Well it's in Knightstone Lane," remarked Ginny. "There can't be any other wizarding houses in that lane. Can't we just name it Knightstone?"

"Aren't you going to have to get a car if you're going to live all the way out there?" asked Mr Weasley. He looked more excited by the prospect than was probably safe. Harry could imagine him planning to charm it to do all sorts of illegal things. "You know, I could teach you to drive."

"No, Arthur," said Mrs Weasley. "I won't have it. Ever since that old Anglia we had, you've been itching for an excuse to get your hands on another car, but this is too much. Let Harry learn to drive the proper way."

"Actually," said Harry quickly, hoping to avoid a row, "I was planning on taking lessons this summer and then seeing about buying something."

If Mr Weasley had been planning on offering to charm the boot to make it larger, his wife's expression made him change his mind. The conversation turned to other topics after that, and the family passed a pleasant evening under the stars.

Much later that night, Harry lay in bed holding his wife in his arms as she slept. He ran his fingers gently over her bare skin and through her hair. As he stared up at the canopy, which fluttered dimly in the warm breeze floating in from the open window, he thought back on the day. It had been difficult, but it had been nowhere near as bad as the day he'd thought he'd lost Ginny. And it was over now, just as the past year was over.

He bent his head and kissed Ginny's hairline. In a week they'd be in their own house, reliant on nobody but themselves. They'd chosen this path, knowing it would not be easy, but both of them were strong and ready to take on whatever life threw at them. After all they'd lived through in the past year, Harry couldn't imagine not being able to face whatever they came across.

He remembered the words he'd said to Ginny earlier today. It had been worth it in the end, and he didn't regret what he'd done. He'd been completely honest with both Ginny and himself when he'd said that. As he drifted off to sleep his mind incongruously wandered back to his first year at Hogwarts. An image of the Mirror of Erised and what he'd seen there came to the fore. Perhaps he'd managed to achieve the deepest desire of his heart, and that was more powerful than any magic he could possess.

To Be Continued…