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At a quarter after three, Ginny Weasley Apparated into the office of the Weasley's Wizard Wheezes store in Hogsmeade,

smiling with excitement. She could hardly believe her good fortune at being asked to teach at Hogwarts. When she'd said the timing couldn't have been better, she hadn't been kidding. She had felt restless at St. Mungo's, where she worked as a mediwizard specializing in healing charms dating back to the days before Charlemagne. Even though the work was rewarding, it simply wasn't what she wanted to do. From the time she was a little girl in primary school she'd wanted to be a teacher. There was somethingwellmagical about the process of discovery that was inherent in the educational process. Having the opportunity to lead young wizards and witches along that path of discovery filled her with anticipation. When Ginny'd left school, she had scored the highest NEWTS in Charms in close to a century. Even Hermione was shocked at how well Ginny performed, experiencing not a small amount of envy. Of course, Ginny had had plenty of time to work on her Charms staying busy was one of the only things that got her through that year following The Fall. A shadow crossed her face, marring her lovely features for only a moment. There were days when the grief over her losses was as razor sharp as it had been nearly a decade before. Most days, however, she was able to find joy in her family, friends and work. In the few years immediately following her days at Hogwarts, Ginny had worked with the Ministry of Magic in the Department of Restoration, where she'd plied her skills upon various magical locations that had been decimated by the war. There were thousands of artifacts, buildings and wards which had needed repair, and Ginny and her team had been able to bring many of these things back to normal within record time. She'd gone on to complete Advanced Charms at Rouen Universite du Sorcires in France, and had been practicing medi-charms at the hospital when Professor McGonagall's owl had arrived. The door to the shop's office burst open, causing Ginny to leap in fright and screech out loud. A brawny, red headed man stood in the doorway holding a beater's bat, and didn't appear to be afraid to use it. "Ginny! Cor blimey, woman! You scared the living daylights out of me!" Laying a hand on his heart, he leaned against the doorframe. "You just don't go Apparating into someone's shop unannounced!"

"Sorry about that, Fred! I should have called out when I arrived," she said, smiling sheepishly. "Besides, I told George I would be arriving about now for my meeting up at the school. How was I to know he didn't tell you?" "George has been out at Diagon Alley with the real estate agent. You know how much I hate dithering around with that. In any event, it's good you're here. You can help me with an experiment I've been working on." Ginny shielded herself with her hands and shook her head. "Are you mad? I've got to go and meet Professor McGonagall in less than fifteen minutes and you think I'm going to fall for a line that old?" Fred shrugged, "It was worth a try, ickle Ginnykins!" Ginny laughed. "Ten points for effort, though," she said as she walked through the office door and into the main area near a barrel of Canary Cremes. Running a brush through her hair, she performed a pirouette. "How do I look?" Fred stood back to look at his baby sister, who wasn't a baby any longer. She was as small as a pixie, but her bearing made her appear much taller than she was. Her hair, the color of the maple leaves in autumn, fell in a satin stream down her back to her waist. Her chestnut eyes twinkled mischievously as she fussed with her new robes, a gift from her brother Bill. 'A new teacher should have new robes,' he'd said with pride, as he'd handed Ginny the package containing the azure blue satin robes. "You look gorgeous as usual, Gin," Fred said, giving her a kiss on the cheek and walking her to the door. "Good luck today!" "Thanks Fred," she said as she stepped out into the mid-afternoon sun and started up the road towards Hogwarts. "Hey! By the way," said the figure standing in the doorway, "I'm George!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As Ginny walked past the small shops and cottages which made up Hogsmeade, she came to the square where a 20 foot, snowy-white marble obelisk stood surrounded by a reflecting pool set in jet black marble. The word "Remember" was rough-hewn into the top of the obelisk, while water

gently cascaded from the top, down the sides and into the pool below. Inscribed in gilt lettering along the base of the monument were the names of those who had fallen during the War between Light and Dark. She had been dreading this section of road since she arrived at the shop moments ago. Her eyes were involuntarily drawn to one inscription in particular: Charles Arthur Weasley. Charlie, commander of the Dragon Brigade, had fallen during the final battle in Hogsmeade, which occurred hours before the assault on Hogwarts. Charlie's group had been successful in bringing down the scores of zombies and vampires Voldemort's foot soldiers which had been making their way through the town towards the gates of the school. The last of the zombies had flung a Conjunctivitus curse at Charlie's dragon as he flew low for the kill. Agonized, the dragon had begun to buck wildly, catching Charlie by surprise and causing him to lose his grip on the reins. He'd fallen thirty feet and died instantly. Although his body had been horribly broken, his face had remained unmarked, oddly peaceful in death. The memory of Charlie's death mask assailed Ginny's memory with the icy sharpness of a winter wind. Despite the warmth of the day, Ginny pulled her wrap closer around her shoulders to ward off the sudden chill the air seemed to take. She shook herself out of her thoughts and continued towards the school gates. Walking the grounds of the school brought back memories of good days and bad, intermingled and entwined. The lake lay in the distance, a shimmering blue next to the deep green of the grass of its shores. She saw a lazy tentacle waver above the surface for a moment and smiled: how many times had she and Harry watched the squid chase the mer-children around in a game of tag? She allowed herself to remember him: inky black hair, always disheveled, always boyish. He fussed with it more often than he realized. Her favorite memory of him was when he was 16 and finally growing into his own hands and feet, and grew to reach a full six feet in height, five inches shorter that his best friend Ron. He was no where near as brawny as Ron, but had the lean musculature of a runneror a Seeker. Once Harry had attained his new height, he had been concerned his game would suffer historically, Seekers were always fairly short and wiry. However, his reflexes had remained as sharp as ever, and his added reach had often given Gryffindor the advantage in close quarters.

He was 16 when he'd finally got up enough nerve to ask her for a walk around the lake one evening after dinner, earning him a shy acceptance from her, a look of shock from Ron and a howler from Fred, George and Percy the following day. It had been on that walk that he'd kissed her for the first time, near the lake under a cloudless evening sky. He'd taken a fair amount of ribbing from his dorm mates that night, and a long heart-to-heart talk when he'd promised his best friend Ron he would never hurt her. Ever. Sadly, Harry would break that promise 18 months later. Ginny stumbled slightly; she had reached the main steps to the school. She had expected to think of Harry when she reached the school grounds, but there was no reason to mull over the past. He'd given up any right or privilege he may have had over her heart. She straightened her robes, lifted her chin and walked through the door towards her future. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Now, Miss Weasley," said Professor McGonagall as they walked through the Charms classroom, "all staff are expected to report for pre-term preparations one week before start of term. We will have basic supplies available to you upon your arrival the week before term begins. If you have anything that requires special ordering, it is best if you get to it within the week to ensure its timely arrival." "Yes, ProfessI mean Minerva," Ginny said, her cheeks flaming. "That will take some getting used to!" Professor McGonagall smiled. "I understand, dear. When I was a novice teacher, it nearly took me a year before I could call Professor Dumbledore by his given name!" Her smile took on a sadness. "There isn't a day that goes by that I don't miss him, Ginny. His presence is here; it's palpable" "But it's not the same," Ginny said, laying a hand on McGonagall's arm and smiling into her eyes. "I understand completely." "Of course you do, dear," McGonagall said, withdrawing a tartan hankie and blowing her nose, none too daintily. "We require all staff to use our formal names whenever we are in the presence of the students. If calling me 'Minerva' is too much for now, please feel free to address me as 'Headmistress'."

"Thank you, Headmistress," Ginny said gratefully. "Professor Flitwick will be arriving tomorrow to finish packing his personal belongings. After that, you are more than welcome to come and start getting your classroom and office settled." She smiled at Ginny. "Now that the formalities have been completed, shall we go to my office for afternoon tea?" "That would be lovely, Headmistress," Ginny said, trying to mask the small grumble her stomach chose to utter at that moment, "however, I do have a question. It was my understanding that both the Astronomy and Flight positions were to be filled this summer. Have you heard any word from your candidates? It might be helpful if we new teachers were able to become better acquainted during the next few weeks." Professor McGonagall winced. She had hoped Ginny wouldn't ask her about this; their meeting had been going so well. Ginny seemed to detect something was amiss. "Headmistress, are you all right?" "Yes, dear," Professor McGonagall said, her voice slightly strained. "You see, we did offer the posts to someone; however, we haven't heard from him yet." "You've found someone to fill both positions? How wonderful, Headmistress! Who is it? Do I know him?" Professor McGonagall gazed heavenward. She knew Albus must be enjoying this immensely. "As a matter of fact, you do, Ginny." She drew in a breath. Just as she was about to speak, the door to the classroom burst opened. Both of the women jumped. It was Severus and he had a gleam in his eye. "Severus! What on earth is it?" "Headmistress, it appears your prayers are answered. Look who I found lurking about your office doorway." He stepped aside, ushering Harry Potter through the door. 4: Remembrance

For a moment, there was absolute silence. Harry stared at Ginny, who had turned so pale so rapidly that McGonagall put out a steadying hand in case she were to faint. Her freckles, mellowed with age but still sprinkling across the bridge of her nose, were almost black with their prominence. He noticed she was wearing azure blue, the color he had loved for her to wear above all others. Despite her pallor, the color only served to bring out the warmth of her eyes and the fire of her hair. In that moment, Harry recognized the truth of what Sirius had said during their midnight chat two nights before: that every woman he had ever felt drawn to had some bit or piece of the woman who was standing before him now. That woman was the first to speak. "Harry?" Ginny tore her gaze from Harry's eyes to Professor McGonagall's stricken face. "Headmistress, you've offered the positions to Harry?" Professor McGonagall muttered what had to have been a curse before placing her hand on Ginny's arm. "Perhaps it would be best if we continued this discussion in my office. Severus, will you be joining us?" "Oh, I wouldn't miss this for the world, Headmistress," Snape said, casting a sardonic glance at Harry. The foursome walked in silence to the stone gargoyle which stood in front of the entrance to the Headmistress' office. "Flaming heather," McGonagall said, and the gargoyle began its slow ascent to the tower, a spiraling set of stairs revealed with each turn. At the top of the stairs, she waved her wand impatiently and the door sprang open. She Summoned three seats to form a semi-circle around her desk while she swept around the portrait of a sleeping Albus Dumbledore on the stand next to her seat. "Well? Sit down, everyone!" Harry and Ginny started at McGonagall's command and immediately assumed seats on either end of the semi-circle. Snape, chuckling to himself, sat between the two and grinned. "Now, Mr Potter, would you care to explain why you are here today?" "Oh, headmistress, let me hazard a guess," Snape interrupted. "Could it be that sending an owl was not dramatic enough for you, Mr Potter? Had to show up, unannounced, to grace us with your presence when you declined

our generous offer?" Harry reddened. "Hit the nail on the head, haven't I, boy?" Harry's eyes flashed green fire as he turned to Severus Snape. "I am a man, Professor Snape, not a boy. I am a professor in my own right, as bestowed upon me by one of the best universities in the world. As such, I expect to be addressed in a manner appropriate to someone who has earned the title. If that is too much to ask, Mr Potter' will suffice." It was Snape's turn to redden; as Harry spoke, the power radiating from him was palpable. "Gentlemen, really," McGonagall snapped, effectively ending the confrontation. Both men continued to stare at one another. "As I was saying before I was interrupted, Mr Potter, why ARE you here?" "I would prefer if we were able to discuss this in private, Professor McGonagall," Harry said, tilting his gaze in Ginny's direction. "I will be more than happy to wait until Miss Weasley has finished her meeting with you." Ginny faced Harry, the color returning to her face. "I am more than a little curious about your reasons for being here, Harry," she spat. "After all, it has been nine years since you ran from our world, abandoning your friends and the only family who gave a tinker's damn about you! We have been doing fine without you! Why come back NOW?" "I don't need to explain my reasons to you, Ginny," Harry said, his tone soft, yet icy cold. "You will recall I attempted to explain my reasons nine years ago and I will not do so again." Rising from his seat, he turned to Professor McGonagall. "I appreciate your generous offer, Headmistress and, if it still stands, will accept the positions. I will be in contact with you within the week to discuss the details. Good day, Headmistress. Professor Snape." He turned to face Ginny, his gaze heating with an intensity that made her shudder. "Miss Weasley." Turning on his heel, he walked out of the office, slamming the door shut. A sleepy snuffle came from Dumbledore's portrait as he was jarred from his doze, startling everyone remaining in the room. McGonagall shook herself and Summoned the tea tray from the credenza next to the window. She placed a cup in front of Ginny, who appeared to be in a stricken daze. Snape merely arched a brow and added cream and sugar to his tea.

"Well, I am shocked and more than a little horrified, especially at you, Severus!" McGonagall tossed a sugar cube into her cup and began to stir her tea with a vengeance. "Baiting Mr Potter like that? It is beneath you and the position you hold." "My apologies, Headmistress," Snape said, the apology not quite reaching his eyes. McGonagall turned her attention to Ginny, who appeared to have come out of her daze and was stirring her tea, albeit a bit mechanically. "Are you all right, Miss Weasley?" "Why, yes, Headmistress," Ginny said, a shade too brightly. "Please accept my apologies for what happened, Miss Weasley," McGonagall added, "I do hope this will not deter you from assuming the Charms post." "Oh no," Ginny said, color rising to her cheeks. "I will not allow my past relationship withMr Potter and his reappearance within our world to steer me away from this opportunity." Taking a final sip of tea, she set down her cup, rose to her feet, and fastened her cloak around her neck. "However, I do need to go home. We are having a family dinner at the Burrow this evening and I told Mum I would come early to help with the preparations. I will plan on coming back tomorrow afternoon, as you suggested, Headmistress. Good evening!" The door closed quietly behind her McGonagall blew a sigh, ruffling some of the fine hairs which had escaped her bun. Snape grinned. "Fireworks indeed, Minerva." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry muttered to himself as he tried to make a quick exit from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He had made several aborted attempts to make the journey to Hogwarts during the prior two days until Sirius asked "Have you spoken with McGonagall yet because if you aren't going to take the position she's got to know soon" one too many times.

"All right!! All right, for god's sake, all right!" Harry had finally shouted that morning as he'd slammed his flue shut and effectively cut off any further bleating from Godric's Hollow. Before heading to Hogwarts, he had returned to his flat in Oxford to rummage around the trunks and boxes he'd packed in preparation for his move to London. Finding a box labeled "storage," he'd pulled out his dress robes from the cedar-lined box he'd purchased to keep it from being annihilated by insects. Given to him by Sirius and Remus for his seventeenth birthday, he assumed they were a little out of date, as far as current wizard fashion was concerned, but they would do. He would wait until after he'd formally accepted the job to go to Diagon Alley for new robes. He smiled sadly They may be out of date, but at least there's no sign of ruffles anywhere. Upon arrival, his stomach had taken an instantaneous plunge. Images from the past flashed before his eyes. Darkened skieszombies on horseback thundering through the edge of the Forbidden Forestbanshee screams from next to Hagrid's old hut...the sound of Ginny's scream as her brother Charlie fell from the skyRacing to the spot near the trees where he fell, their hope for finding him alive dashed as they encountered his body, impaled and brokenhis face still and silent forever He shook himself, his skin felt cold, clammy; his breathing was short and reedy. He felt an almost uncontrollable urge to flee back to the safety of his flat in Oxford; to cram all of the trappings of his wizard life back into those boxes and to throw them into the nearest skip headed towards the garbage dump. Within a few moments, he had regained enough of his composure to grow furious with himself. Nine years and he was still unable to revisit a vital part of his past without feeling weak and cowardly. Some Heir of Gryffindor' I turned out to be, he thought to himself. Suddenly, he recalled a conversation he had had with Dumbledore a few days before the final battle: "Our road will not be an easy one, Harry," Dumbledore said, one night while the two distant cousins sat in front of a roaring fire in the headmaster's office. "We will encounter the most impermeable evil our world has to offer. No doubt that the images we see in the coming days will

remain with us until we leave this earth. Truly courageous people are those who recognize their fears, yet persevere through their fears to achieve their goals. Why? Because they have the moral strength to venture beyond their fears to do what needs to be done." Harry had paused. He needed to move beyond this fear. This time. This place. Here lay the challenge and he was willing to finally meet it, head-on. It was with this mindset that he had walked right into Professor Snape an hour earlier. Standing upon the exterior steps of the castle with legs made of water, Harry had to wonder if the fates, if Dumbledore, if Padfoot and Moony, if SOMEONE were having an enormous guffaw at his expense. Running into Snape at the headmistress' office was only the start. For a moment, he felt as though he were back in his second year, being collared by Snape after the Infamous Flying Car Caper. Then, being ushered unceremoniously down the hallway towards the Charms classroom, Snape occasionally uttering a snort of amusement and failing to let Harry in on the joke. Well, the joke was on HIM, all right. Ginny. The memory of her face in those first moments was all it took for his quaking knees to give up their fight and he slumped upon the steps. Looking glorious in new azure blue, her hair a river of red shimmering down to the small of her back. Her eyes dear God, the deep, brown, velvety softness of them took his breath away until he was reduced to near-panting. Shock, then the razor edge of her tongue, slicing at the last wall he'd wanted to face. Ice and fire. Breathtaking and heartbreaking all at the same time. The hated confrontations. First Snape, cutting him down to size with his condescending tone and manner. Harry had no idea where the calmness in his voice had come from when he fashioned his retort to the man. He'd felt the power surging through him like a mighty beast, and it had startled him. During his studies at Christchurch, there had been a few times where he'd lost his temper. Not often, but often enough for him to be startled by the power which seemed to seep from his very fingertips. A few times he had

made things explode, which only served to add credence to his reputation as an eccentric. Then, Ginny. He could hear the temper straining under her control as she spoke to him. Abandoning your friendsfamily' Each phrase slapped at him like stinging blows. It had taken every ounce of composure to respond calmly, his goal to escape from McGonagall's office as quickly and as calmly as possible. Still, despite his best intentions, his temper had got the better of him; he recalled the resounding echo of the door slamming shut. Once again, furious with himself, he scrubbed hard at his eyes and climbed to his feet to begin the long walk back to the gates. He was midway between the Whomping Willow and the wrought iron gates when he heard his name on the wind. Turning, he saw Ginny, walking quickly to catch up to him. He sighed and continued walking. "Don't make me do this, Harry James Potter!" Ginny roared. Ignoring her outburst, he picked up his pace. "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" came a voice from behind. He gasped as every inch of his body went rigid and he fell face first onto the path, his glasses snapping at the bridge of his nose. "Well, hell," he muttered out of the side of his mouth. He heard the sound of footsteps pounding closer to where he lay. Finally, a swirl of azure blue fabric swept around his left shoulder and he closed his eyes. "'Miss Weasley', eh?" Ginny said, tucking the tip of her shoe under his shoulder and, with a grunt, flipping him over onto his back. She stifled a laugh as his broken glasses slid off to rest at either side of his head. The sun shown in his eyes and he squinted in an effort to see her face. "Yes, Miss Weasley,'" Harry said, his mouth blessedly free of the spell that had the rest of him paralyzed. "Despite my rather dismal childhood, I am well acquainted with proper manners. Now, the question remains, are you acquainted with them as well?" He arched a brow and glanced down at his still form. "I am, but apparently you were in too big of a rush to follow through with them back at the castle, so I am merely doing what needs to be done so that you will remember those manners from this point forward."

Harry sighed and, closing his eyes, came free of the spell, much to Ginny's apparent horror. "Wandless magic?" Ginny said, taking several steps backwards. "You can do wandless magic?" Harry dusted off his robes and, plucking his wand from his pocket, proceeded to repair his glasses. "I assume that was a rhetorical question, Miss Weasley?" He placed his glasses back on and crossed his arms across his chest. "Now, as I said only a few moments before, I have already attempted to discuss my leaving with you once before and I do not wish to do so again. Is there is something else that you wished to discuss with me?" Ginny clenched her fists. "Do NOT take that tone with me, Mr Potter! I will NOT allow you to brush me off as if I were that dust on your robes! You and I have to discuss all that there is between us if there is any hope of our surviving within a mile of one another at that school!" Rolling his eyes, he turned and walked through the gates towards the road to town. "I need a pint of butterbeer," Harry muttered to himself, "or, better yet, a shot of Firewhisky." He could hear her voice, shrill and furious, as she continued to berate him, no more than ten paces behind. He cast a glance over his shoulder now and then, only to snort with amusement as he watched her wildly gesticulating with her hands as she yelled at his back. And then he stopped, all traces of amusement draining from him, as he caught his first sight of the Obelisk of Remembrance. Harry stood, shaken and transfixed, as he watched the water cascading down the sides of the obelisk. He felt the blood drain from his face, his cheeks paling beneath its summer tan, his eyes shining with unshed tears as he read the names of those who had died. His eyes stopped at Dumbledore's name and he shuddered anew, more memories swirling painfully into his mind: He heard Dumbledore's voice bellow the spell they'd been practicing for weeks, "Benevolentia Convince Maleficus." Red-golden light bathing the two Gryffindor heirs as the ghastly green and silver light of Avada Kedavra screamed through the air, bursting against Dumbledore's chest; a stray shard slamming against Harry's head, blinding him with pain. In the next

moment, Harry looked down into the unseeing eyes and all-too-still countenance of Albus Dumbledore. He stumbled to his feet. Voldemort was clearly shocked to see only his life-long nemesis fall, the other standing to face him. With an anguished shout, Harry chanted the second half of the incantation, and watched with satisfaction as Voldemort splintered into millions of obsidian black shards, each bursting into final flame and ash. Then, only darkness. Ginny appeared in front of him, standing within inches of him for the first time in almost a decade. He could smell the jasmine that scented her hair and see the flecks of amber and green swirling in her eyes. He watched as she opened her mouth to say something what, he wasn't certain. His reaction was immediate, intense and visceral. Before she could retreat, he captured her lips in a soul-shaking kiss. His hands closed upon her upper arms, dragging her against his body, the softness of her making him quake with need. Ginny. Comfort, acceptance, warmth, love all lay here in the arms of this woman. His mind sailed back in time; back to a night of storm when his heart was aching and she was his salvation. His tongue sought and found entrance to her mouth as she gasped with the shock of his kiss. From what felt like a great distance, he felt her hands press against his chest in an attempt to escape his embrace and the magnitude of his actions struck him like a tidal wave. He wrenched his lips from hers, staggering away until the back of his knees struck the edge of the black marble pool. Ginny gasped, and he watched her hand come up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide with a mixture of shock, fury, sadness, and yearning. Her cheeks flamed and she met his gaze with one full of melancholy. "Why did you leave us, Harry?" Her taste still on his tongue, the press of her breasts against his chest still palpable, his body still aflame with a wild passion he hadn't felt in years, all felt as though it had been dropped into an icy lake as Ginny's words sank into his brain. He gaped at her, wondering if she'd felt nothing in those few moments just past, if she'd ever felt with the same depth as he. That thought alone turned his coldness to heat.

"Dammit!" Harry said, running a hand through his hair. "You know why, Ginny. You can't have forgotten that conversation, can you?" "Of course not," she said quietly, "I've re-lived it a thousand times." "Well, apparently you want another review," he said angrily. "I asked you to come with me. I begged you to come with me. I needed you to come with me, and you refused! Not once, but over and over again that horrible night." "Charlie had died, Harry," Ginny interrupted, her eyes shining with tears. "It had been barely more than a month and Mum, Dad, our entire family was still inconsolable with grief over his death! You were there, Harry! You saw it with your own eyes, felt it with your own heart! Not to mention that Hermione was barely out of her coma when you came strolling in, demanding I leave everything I knew behind because you couldn't stay in our world!" Harry winced at her words, lashing out with the pain. "Do you think I didn't take all of that into consideration before I came to you that night? I couldn't eat. I could barely sleep and wasn't about to become addicted to those sleep tonics Sirius and Remus kept trying to foist upon me." Harry's gaze lanced hers. "Gin, the night before the battle in Hogsmeade." Ginny glanced down at her hands. He was certain they were thinking similar thoughts unbidden images of what had occurred that night, under the stars at the top of the Astronomy Tower. A closer look confirmed Harry's suspicions, for a flush crept up her neck to blossom in her cheeks. "Have you forgotten what we said to one another that night, Gin?" Harry said, grabbing hold of her arm, his eyes pleading with her. "As we lay in one another's arms, promising we'd be together forever?" He watched as tears trembled on Ginny's lashes, as the warmth of her skin beneath his hand seeped in, as the scent that was so unmistakably Ginny swirled around him, bringing to mind memories of dark nights and deep desires. His voice turned icy, shocking her. "Were those words so easily forgotten, faster than our sweat dried off of your flesh?" There was a tremendous crack of flesh on flesh as Ginny slapped Harry across his face. Clasping a hand to his injured cheek, Harry stumbled and

fell against the rim of the black marble pool of the memorial. Ginny stood, white faced and trembling above him, a fury unlike any he had seen before streaming from every line of her body. She slowly raised her hand to point at the white marble stone. "Your name should be there," she said, her voice straining with anger. "The man my family and I once knew and loved as Harry Potter died that same day." She stepped away from him slowly, her eyes blazing into his. "That man would have never doubted what I promised to him. You chose to throw those words I said to you back at me without a second thought as to how such a decision might affect my life and my family. I wasn't the only one making promises and you were the one who left, by your own choice. The choice to leave your family wasn't made for you, like it was made for Charlie. As far as I'm concerned, the man I loved is as good as dead." She turned and started to walk towards the town. Stunned into silence, Harry watched as she disappeared from his view, a single tear of frustration and loss edging down his face. 5: Family, United Fred and George Weasley, purveyors of the delightful and mischievous, toiled away in their back room (affectionately known as "The Lab"). They were currently experimenting on a new treat inspired by their nephew Patrick (they look like owl treats, but once the owl eats one it turns them into a toucan!') when they heard the front door of their shop crash open, hard enough to shatter the glass in the door. Cautiously, Fred and George headed towards the front, Beater's bats cocked and ready, when they heard a voice uttering a stream of obscenities that would make a shipload of sailors blush. Their bats hit the floor as the twins charged through the doorway they knew that voice well, and pitied the poor soul who had caused the fury in it. They found Ginny pacing back and forth next to the barrel of Filibuster's Fireworks as the anger came off her in waves. For a moment, the twins wondered whether the barrel would explode from being in such close proximity to the legendary Weasley temper. "Ginny, love," Fred began, approaching with more than a little apprehension, "what on earth happened up there?" George muttered a quick spell to repair the door glass and positioned the "closed" sign smartly in the middle of the window.

"Bastard!" Ginny growled, causing both twins to turn as red as their hair. "The sodding arseholemiserableaddlebrainedpitiful excuse" "Good lord, Gin, my innocent ears!" George said, trying not to beam too proudly at her. "I don't think I've heard more colorful language since the Cannons came within a goal of winning the British Cup year before last." He chuckled and wiped an imaginary tear from his eye. "Ron could have stripped paint off the walls that night with what was coming out of his mouth, eh, Fred?" "Did you run into Snape?" Fred asked, ignoring George and scratching his head while he watched her rage around the room. "I know he was a firstclass git while we were there, but you would think he'd be a little more civil to a fellow teacher." "NO!" Ginny roared, causing the twins to jump back several paces. "It wasn't Snape, although he's as slimy as ever. Never in your wildest dreams will you imagine who I ran into today. Never!" She continued to pace around the room and directed an errant kick at the Canary Creams bucket, wincing with pain and cursing some more. "Well, for Merlin's sake, who did you see?" George said, catching several creams before they splattered onto the floor. Ginny turned to them, her eyes filled with fire and rage. "Harry Potter!" she bellowed. Fred and George stared, jaws hanging open, unable to speak as she stormed back to their office, slamming the door shut behind her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny leaned against the door, pressing her hands to her eyes. The tears were there, only temporarily held at bay by her fury. Now the reality of the situation began to seep past the ramparts her temper had built. She walked towards the twins' office couch, a gift from Percy and Penelope only a few months earlier (expecting her second set of twins, Penelope had insisted on getting a larger couch for their growing brood), and collapsed into its overstuffed arms.

He was back. Harry had returned to their world as suddenly as he had left it nine years ago. It had taken her years to get over the devastation his leaving had caused, and she had only begun to see the possibilities for a happy future without him upon her return from France three years ago. And for the past year, those possibilities had included not only her work, but also the attentions of a gentleman named Christopher Ollivander. Last summer, she had been working on a particularly difficult case of Cruciatus Curse at St. Mungo's when the patient had lashed out at her, hitting her wand and sending it crashing against the stone floor. Upon close inspection, she'd found a hairline crack that ran from handle to tip, and sparks of red had begun to seep out. As a result, she'd had to make a trip to Diagon Alley's famous wand shop to have it repaired or, as a last resort, replaced. She'd seen Christopher for the first time that day. Leaning against the overstuffed cushions of the couch, she let her mind drift back to that first meeting. As she entered the shop, she noticed a tall, fair-haired young man stacking boxes of wands onto the counter. He glanced up as she closed the door. "Good afternoon, miss," he said, his voice pleasingly deep. "Welcome to Ollivander's. May I help you?" "Eryes, thanks," she said, removing her wand from her knapsack. "I seem to have rather badly cracked my wand at work today, and I hope it can be repaired." She paused. "I'm sorry, I don't mean to be rude, but where is Mr. Ollivander?" He smiled nervously. "I'm so sorry, I've forgotten to introduce myself. Christopher Ollivander at your service, miss." He held out his hand to shake Ginny's. "My uncle is at a symposium in Greece this week. I'm his apprentice." Ginny smiled and shook his hand. "Oh! I'm Ginny Weasley very pleased to meet you!" They stood for a moment, smiling into one another's eyes, until Ginny shook herself. "Erdo you think the wand can be repaired?"

Christopher, whose ears had turned slightly pink with embarrassment, picked up her wand from the counter and held it under a magnifying glass. She'd never seen anyone else with ears that blush, other than Ron, and found that trait more than a little endearing. "Hmmm" Christopher muttered, frowning. "It looks like the crack has split across several of the wood grains. It's a difficult fix, but it can be done. It will take me at least an hour or so, however. Will that suit you, or should we schedule an appointment for later in the week?" "Oh no," Ginny said, "that will be fine. I have some errands to run, so today would be perfect." "I'll see you around half past five, then," Christopher said, smiling, his deep blue eyes lingering on Ginny's face. When she'd returned, he had suggested they have a bite to eat at the Leaky Cauldron and, although Ginny was usually reticent in accepting dinner invitations from strange men, she decided to take a chance. It had turned out to be a truly delightful evening for both of them and the start of more to follow. They had now been dating a year, and serious talks about the future were becoming the norm for their evenings out. Christopher, she thought to herself, picturing his lean features, his smile and his gentle, graceful hands. She loved him, she knew she did. Only problem is, not once have any of the kisses we've shared over the course of the last year made me feel as wanted and wanting as Harry's single kiss this afternoon did, Ginny realized, a sickening jolt lancing her stomach. That thought was all it took for Ginny's restraint to crumble apart and, grabbing a pillow from the couch, she began to sob into it. A knock sounded on the door. "Gin?" Fred's voice said quietly, and she heard the door creak open. "Oh, Gin, don't cry. We're here, little one." She heard the sound of two sets of footsteps approaching the couch slowly, as if hesitant to disturb her, and felt one of the twins sit next to her and stroke her hair. She sobbed into the pillow until it had turned from its original pale green to a rather squishy-looking lump of spinach. Her sobs began to diminish, and finally, looking over at her seated brotherit was

Fredthrough red, puffy eyes, she took his proffered handkerchief and blew her nose. "Harry was up at the castle?" Fred said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders while George lit a small fire in the fireplace and poured her a glass of water. "Why would he be there?" Ginny took a shuddering breath and, setting her thoughts of Christopher aside, took a sip of water and tucked her hair behind her ears. "He was there because he's going to be teaching Astronomy and Flight next year," she said, hoarsely, now-silent tears still trickling down her blotchy cheeks. She gave a shaky sigh: she'd hated crying ever since she was a tiny toddler and saw her reflection in the hallway mirror after a particularly nasty bout with Ron. Never would she be one to cry elegant, solitary tears down her cheeks, the kind of tears you see portrayed in films and adverts. No, Ginny Weasley was blessed with the Weasley coloring, which meant that, following a good cry, her face and eyes always looked like she'd been someone's punching bag. George sat down on her other side with a thud. "Teaching? Harryteaching at Hogwarts?" "After everything he did to drop off the face of the earth, he's coming back now?" Fred said, the color rising in his cheeks. "That's exactly what I said!" Ginny exclaimed vehemently. "Why him? Why now?" She blew her nose heartily, reducing Fred's handkerchief to little more than a manky piece of cloth. Ginny winced. "Sorry about that, Fred." "Don't give it back to me you keep it," he said, slightly green around the gills and rummaging around for another hanky for her to use. "Did you ask McGonagall why they chose him?" Ginny paused. No, of course she hadn't asked McGonagall the most pertinent question of that moment. All she'd wanted to do was to escape from that place before she'd completely lost it. She was still horrified at her reaction to seeing Harry standing in the doorframe of the Charms classroom, deep red robes firmly held in Snape's pale fist. He'd looked stronger and healthier than she'd ever seen him before, a light tan coloring his face and hands and bringing the green of his eyes into sharper focus and attention. The streak of white in his hair was a vibrant reminder of the final battles, yet one that suited his now-adult face and demeanor.

She'd been overwhelmed with emotions. And while she realized in hindsight that she should have expected to feel sadness and shock at seeing the first man she'd ever loved so suddenly back in her life, she did not expect to feel longinga longing deeper than any hunger or thirst she'd ever experienced. Well, I'm going to do my best to squelch that ill-placed desire into an early grave. It was his demeanor in McGonagall's office that haunted her now cold, aloof, impersonal, as if he had never seen her before, never shared the history they had together. The display of power he'd unleashed (unwittingly, she was willing to wager) had been the only hint of the passion that he had always held in close check when they were young. That passion had been amplified ten-fold beyond anything she remembered witnessing before. She paused, flushing. She was wrong about that. She had witnessed his capacity for passion before, and the memory of it burned. Hastily she turned her attention back to Fred's question. "No, dammit," she said aloud. "I didn't ask, but I've a mind to when I go back tomorrow afternoon." She nodded once and stubbornly set her jaw. Mopping her eyes once again, she glanced up just in time to see George raising his eyebrows at Fred. Narrowing her eyes, she glared at Fred as he nodded at his brother in complete understanding and agreement. "What?" she asked irritably. I hate it when they engage in Weasley Twinspeak. "Right, then, that's settled," George said to no one in particular and apparently apropos of absolutely nothing, surging to his feet and tossing a bit of floo powder onto the fire flickering in the huge fireplace. "What are you talking about?" Ginny said, blowing her reddened nose one last time and frowning at George. Fred casually tossed George's cloak across the room into his brother's outstretched hand. "We're taking you home," Fred said. "Now." He grasped her upper arms and hauled her to her feet. Ginny blanched in panic and struggled against his hands. "God, not now," she said. "Mum will have kittens if she sees me like this!" She scrambled through her pockets, digging for her wand. "Just give me five minutes to pull together a decent glamour to cover up the worst of this, please?"

"Nope. Sorry Gin," George said. "This calls for drastic measures." He looked over his shoulder at Fred as he bundled a vigorously protesting Ginny towards the hearth. "Good thing Mum and Dad are expecting all of us for dinner, eh, Fred?" "Right-o, mate," George said. "Nothing like a little Weasley family meeting to pull together a bit of strategy to deal with this recent development!" "Butbut" Ginny said, trying to grab hold of the edge of the fireplace as Fred picked her up, tossed her unceremoniously over his shoulder and stepped in. "Put. Me. Down!" George climbed in behind his two siblings. "Tuck your arms in, miss," he said, added another pinch of powder, just to be sure, and bellowed, "The Burrow!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Molly Weasley watched her two grandchildren, Patrick and Phillip, race around the large oak tree at the end of the garden as she washed up following their tea. She remembered having that kind of mindless energy once upon a very long time ago. Not too long ago, her own herd of redheads had raced around the yard amidst squeals and shouts of joy and mischief. Why she was feeling so melancholy this afternoon she had no idea. They were planning a family dinner to celebrate Arthur's birthday, which meant all of her children would be here. She stopped suddenly, feeling chilled. Not all of her children. During the passing of these nine years, new hands had been added as Percy and Penelope had presented them with grandchildren. Two hands, however, remained still and silent: Charlie's, which rested upon "With the Angels," and one belonging to a black-haired boy who had been as good as family. Harry's hand pointed to the word "Lost". Molly sighed, tears forming in her eyes. In the days and weeks after Charlie's death, her world had been in a fog so deep, many had been afraid it would never lift. She had been only vaguely aware of Harry's departure from their midst, her first clear memory of his disappearance coming after she'd heard the anguished sobs of her daughter coming through her bedroom door.

Deep, maternal love and instinct had brought her out of her own bleak thoughts enough to console her youngest child. "Ginny darling," she'd asked, quietly pushing open the bedroom door to find Ginny curled up on her side, rocking back and forth in time with her cries. Molly curled up behind Ginny, bringing her back against her chest and stroking her tumbledown hair. Molly was shocked to feel the sharpness of Ginny's shoulder blades under her hands. a small, yet shapely young woman only a few months earlier, Ginny's figure had withered to frightening thinness as she'd closed herself off from her family following Charlie's death and Harry's disappearance. Molly felt a momentary twinge of guilt, realizing that she'd been so absorbed in her own bereavement that she hadn't seen her daughter slowly wasting away. "Mum," Ginny sobbed, "oh Mum, why did he have to leave? We all loved him soooo" Her sobs cut off all other coherent words. At first, Molly was confused was she talking about Charlie or Harry? But at this point, it didn't matter. What mattered most was letting her get this out. "Darling," Molly said, her voice soft in her daughter's ear. "You need to talk about this. You can't keep all of this bottled up inside of you. You'll make yourself sick." "Mum," Ginny said, turning in her mother's arms until she lay nestled against her chest. "I thought we had a future, but he's gone he's just gone." She gazed up at her mother, tears shining on her eyelids. "They're both just GONE" Tears began to fall unchecked again and Molly wrapped her arms around her daughter, her own tears falling from her eyes into Ginny's hair. Shaking herself out of her grim memories, Molly swiped at the tears on her cheeks and turned her attention on her grandsons, who were now winging water jets back and forth at one another with their wands. She sighed if they kept that up, they would be seeing owls from the Misuse of Magic office in record time. "Boys!" Molly shouted out the window. "You will bring those wands in here RIGHT THIS MINUTE!" She watched as a stray water jet flew straight into Phillip's eyes, causing his brother to shriek with laughter. They looked up at

her, waved in acknowledgement, then began to trudge towards the house, looking waterlogged. "Gran, can't we play a little while longer?" Patrick said, his trainers squidging noisily as he walked across the floor. "First of all, young man, you know better than to play around with those wands away from Hogwarts," Molly said, plucking their wands out of their back pockets and putting them up on the counter. She faced them, her hands on her hips and a frown on her face that didn't quite reach her eyes. "I want you both to go up to the guest room and change your clothes. It's almost time for everyone to arrive for dinner." Phillip shot a familiar conspiratorial glance at his brother. "And if I hear one smidgen of mischief out of either of you while you are changing clothes, you will spend some time with the garden gnomes out back AND forfeit your dessert." Both boys looked at Molly, twin expressions of horror written all over their faces. "Do I make myself clear?" "Yes ma'am," they chorused sullenly. "And leave those shoes down here I've just cleaned the floors!" With a moment of muttering and scuffling, they toed their shoes off their feet and stomped up the stairs. At that moment, she heard a pop in the living room. "Molly? I'm home," Arthur Weasley said, hanging his summer cloak in the closet and kissing her on the cheek. "Gads, what a day this was!" He sank into a chair at the kitchen table, Molly following close behind to rub his neck and shoulders. "We had meetings with the US Secretary of Magic and the Minister of Magic from Japan this morning to discuss their trade sanctions against Bulgaria, and got absolutely nowhere until half past two, when the Bulgarian Minister finally agreed to crack down on the shipment of substandard Baltic Black owls." "Well, you aren't to trouble yourself with any of that now, dear," Molly said, giving his shoulder a final squeeze as she turned to start working on the roasting potatoes. "Besides, you've yet to give your gift from the Grangers a try, right? Tonight's the big night!"

Arthur beamed as he leapt to his feet and pulled the leg of lamb he had started marinating the night before out of the icebox, which was nothing more than an oversized closet which was bewitched with a perpetual Cooling Charm. Ron, Hermione, and the Grangers had given Arthur an early gift this year: a Muggle rotisserie gas barbecue grill. Early because they had been certain Arthur would want to "tinker" with it a bit before trying it out. However, Molly had insisted that Rupert, Hermione's father, come over a week before to show Arthur how Muggles used the grill before he did anything to it. "You might blow yourself to smithereens, Arthur," Molly recalled saying as she'd gazed with worry at the grill's sleek aluminum lid and pictured it splintering into a million pieces. What had followed were several days of late-night puttering in the shed behind the house. Despite Arthur's assurances that nothing would go wrong, Molly had still dreaded the moment when they headed across the lawn where "the beast" gleamed. "Arthur, what did you do to that machine?" she asked he flipped up the lid and started spearing the lamb onto a spit. "Charmed it to turn on its own, not to mention setting up a self-regulating thermometer and a self-cleaning cycle," he said, grinning from ear to ear as he pulled out his wand. "Adustum! Incohare Cuspis!" he said, tapping the side of the grill. Molly closed her eyes, steadying herself for an explosion. Several seconds passed, and she opened her eyes. The lamb turned happily over a carefully regulated flame. "Brilliant job, Arthur!" she beamed and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you!" he said proudly, his ears turning pink as they headed back into the kitchen. "According to the gauge on the lid, the lamb should be cooked to perfection in no time at all. No muss or fuss needed!" Molly was about to ask Arthur what time she should put the potatoes on the grill when another pop sounded from the living room. "Hi, Mum," Fred called.

"Fred, have you seen Ginny? She was supposed to come over early to help get rea" Molly stopped, seeing Ginny standing between the twins, looking as though she'd been clobbered by a train. "Ginny! Good heavens, dear, what happened?" Ginny shook off her "escorts" with a furious twist of her arms and stomped up the stairs to her old bedroom. Fred, George, and Molly looked up at the ceiling as if following her footsteps until they heard the crashing of the door as it slammed shut. "Boys," Molly said warningly, turning her gaze back to her sons. "What on earth did you do to your sister?" "What have WE done to our sister?" Fred said, appearing to be outraged. "Mum! For Merlin's sake, we didn't do anything to Ginny!" "Yes, we did," George corrected, dusting off his cloak. "Saved her from being splinched into the middle of Leeds, I'd say. Ginny came back from Hogwarts fit to be tied like a Christmas goose, Mum." "And you'll never guess why," Fred said bitterly, grabbing a pint of butterbeer from the countertop and performing a quick freezing charm before taking several swallows and passing the bottle to George. "What. Happened?" Molly said, looking from twin to twin before finally thwacking her skirt with her wand. The glare she turned onto the boys had a slightly feral edge to it and they flinched under its intensity. "Mum? Dad?" George said seriously, "you'd better sit down." Molly and Arthur, their looks of anger changing to concern in seconds, sat in chairs across from the twins. "Son, what happened today?" Arthur said, clasping Molly's hand in his. Fred sighed. "Harry's back." For several moments, the only sound in the room was the tick-tick-tick of the kitchen clock while Molly and Arthur stared dumbstruck at their twin boys.

"What do you mean, back?" Arthur said cautiously, his voice pitched a few tones lower than normal. Molly simply stared. "Boys," Molly said, turning tear-filled eyes to face the twins. "If this is some idea of a joke, I will hex the both of you until you are permanently Transfigured into pigs." "Mum, we would never joke about something like that," George said. At that moment, a chime rang out in the kitchen, heralding the movement of one of the hands on the clock. Every eye turned to it, watching. Harry's clock hand twitched slightly, as if being woken from a long, deep slumber, and slowly moved to "Traveling". Arthur and Molly gasped, and despite their news, the twins' jaws dropped open at the sight. "As a matter of fact," George continued, glancing nervously at the clock, "I am still in a bit of shock myself about the whole thing." George and Fred launched into a description of the events of the day. A half an hour (and two pots of tea) later, the twins finally fell silent while Arthur and Molly sat ashen, absentmindedly turning their now-empty teacups round and round. Arthur's eyes looked suspiciously damp as he patted Molly on the hand and excused himself. "Need to check on the lamb," he said gruffly, softly closing the back door behind him. George looked concerned. "Mum? Should I go after him?" Molly sighed, wiping her eyes with an embroidered handkerchief her daughter-in-law Penny had given her for Mothering Sunday that year. "No dear," she said. "Leave him be right now. He'll be back as soon as he's ready, and I'm sure we'll have many more questions later." She glanced towards the stairs. "I think I need to talk with Ginny for a little while." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny sat on her childhood bed, staring out the window into the back yard. She'd taken the time to charm some of the puffiness from her face, but what she really wanted to do was stick her face into a ice-filled basin for several hours. The numbing effect such an act would have was what she was

seeking: numbness from the emotions she had experienced in the last several hours. Life was much simpler when I lived here, she thought, moving aside the stuffed animals that gathered around her pillow and laying her head against its comforting softness. She remembered the summer before her fifth year at Hogwarts, when Hermione and Harry had come to finish up the holidays with their family. She and Hermione had truly become best friends that summer, writing to one another often before her arrival at the Burrow. It was nice having a girlfriend you could talk to about things best left unsaid in a household full of boys. It had been that summer that Harry had first taken notice of some of the changes that had occurred with Ginny over the years. Or, at least, that was the way it had seemed to her. She would catch him looking at her across the kitchen table for a moment too long, only to turn away sharply with a tinge of pink riding his cheekbones when he realized she'd noticed. An accidental collision during water fight in the pond on a particularly hot August day had had both of them stammering apologies, much to the delight of Hermione, the amusement of the twins, and the befuddlement of Ron. By the time the four of them were to return to Hogwarts, Harry and Ginny's tentative friendship had begun to hint towards the beginnings of "something more." Her eye caught a flash of movement on her nightstand. She reached down to pick up the green enameled frame that held a magical photograph of her and Harry at the Easter Ball her fifth year at Hogwarts. Looking resplendent in a new set of azure blue dress robes, Ginny's picture-self smiled up cheekily at Harry and snuggled closer into arms that flexed around her waist. The look in Harry's eyes was one she had cherished, for it was a look he had seemed to share only with her when they were together. Ginny's eyes filled with new tears as she heard a knock on the door. "One moment," she said, knuckling her eyes and, with a deep breath, rose from her bed and opened the door to see her mother standing on the threshold. "May I come in, darling?" Molly said, her eyes appearing to be a little damp from her own tears. Saying nothing, Ginny stepped aside and closed the door behind her mother. "I assume Fred and George told you what happened," Ginny said gruffly,

setting the photograph face-down on her nightstand. She couldn't help but notice her mother's raising her eyebrows in response. "Yes, they did," Molly said, settling down on the end of the bed. "Just before they did, Harry's clock hand moved." Ginny gasped at the news, easing back down onto the bed and staring at her mother with incredulous eyes. "First time in nine years. Fancy that." "I always said we should have taken his clock hand off that thing," Ginny said bitterly. Her mother grabbed the end of her chin, turning her eyes to face hers. "Ginny Weasley. I am ashamed of you," her mother said, her voice trembling with anger. "Yes, I know Harry hurt you unspeakably. Remember, I was there when you grieved for him." She sighed, releasing Ginny's chin and gazing at her youngest with sympathetic eyes. "And as hurt as we were by his actions, there has always been a chance that we would be able to see him again. Hear his voice, his laughter." Her hand fell back into her lap. "That's more than we'll ever be able to have from our Charlie, rest him." "Mum, I'm not so ready to forgive him after nine years of neglect," Ginny said, getting to her feet and pacing in front of the window. "But I've got to figure out a way I can at least be at Hogwarts with him. I'm not going to miss out on this opportunity to teach just because of my past relationship with Harry." Molly smiled sadly. Her daughter was as stubborn as they came. "Well," she said, rising to her feet and walking to the door, "if Harry should choose to talk about what happened, try not to shut him out too quickly, dear. It has been nine years. Could be that with time, and a little distance, his reasons might not be as murky or as unreasonable as they seemed back then." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Within the next half hour, all of the Weasley siblings (including Percy's wife Penelope and Poppy, their youngest) had arrived with the exception of Ron and Hermione. Hermione was expecting their second child and had had such difficulties with the birth of their son Matthew that the mediwizard had prohibited her from using Floo Powder during her last trimester, Apparation having already been generally prohibited for pregnant witches. While this

had created problems for them initially, Ron had come home with the perfect solution: a car. Mr Weasley was thrilled to have another car in the family, as their first (a Ford Anglia) still ran wild in the Forbidden Forest. He had all sorts of ideas for new charms. Reaction by the rest of the family to the news about Harry ran the gamut from oblivious (Percy "I don't see what why everyone is so upset about this. Yes, it was distressing, but with his work in the Muggle world, he has the potential to make enormous strides towards bringing our two worlds closer together.") to lovingly fraternal (Bill cradled Ginny in his arms in a hug she had said was "just what I needed") to annoyingly humorous (Fred and George kept muttering about new tricks and gags they would like to slip into Harry's food, given the chance, and appeared to be looking to Ginny for her assistance). All of the elder Weasleys, however, knew that the one they would need to be careful with was Ron. Ron had been heartbroken at Harry's disappearance. True, Charlie's death had been a blow he hadn't been prepared for, but never in his wildest imaginations had he ever thought that Harry would choose to abandon the friendship they had shared from their very first trip on the Hogwarts Express. The tension in the room quadrupled when they heard a car pull into the drive. Ginny stood and looked at all of her family. "Now listen," she said, nervously twining her fingers in front of her, "I don't want anyone to upset Ron and Hermione. They are both under enough stress with the baby. I'll tell them all about it after we have dinner." There were sounds of footsteps on the pebbles covering the front walkway. "Besides," Ginny said sternly, picking up the butter dish from the counter to place it on the table, "it's Dad's birthday and we've already let the news monopolize his night enough." The door swung open to reveal a heavily-pregnant Hermione, one hand holding the tiny hand of a four-year-old, strawberry-blond boy, the other repeatedly poking her tall and gangling husband in the center of his chest. "Have you even considered the social ramifications of naming a child Ignatius' these days, Ron? I refuse to have a child of mine teased incessantly and called "Iggy Weezy" on the playground. I won't have it!"

Matthew squealed as he saw his elder cousins bobbing around the kitchen and, tugging his hand out of his mother's grip, ran towards their laughing voices. "But Hermione, it was my great-great grandfather's name," Ron countered, playfully slapping at her index finger and closing the door behind him. "Besides, I've already agreed not to use Mephisto' as his mid" He broke off in mid-sentence, suddenly aware of the deafening silence surrounding him. He turned and looked at his family standing as though frozen, their expressions of happiness seeming to be oddly out of place. "What?" Ron said, hands on his hips and looking from his mother to his father. "Something's wrong, isn't there?" "Now what would make you say that, son?" Arthur said, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. "Well," Hermione said, setting her cloak on the couch, "Percy's just poured wine into baby Poppy's bottle and Ginny's managed to stick her hand in the butter dish." Everyone turned to look at Percy and Ginny, whose faces were bright enough to light up the night sky. Percy cursed under his breath as he dumped out the wine and spoke a sanitizing spell over the bottle. Nervous laughter echoed in the living room as Ginny rubbed at her hand with a dishrag. Ron chuckled, "I don't think I've seen her do something like that since Harry showed up at our house the first time." Nervous laughter dissolved into silence again. Ron frowned. "What in the devil is going on around here? Has someone died or something?" George snorted into his butterbeer. "Come back to life, if you ask me," he said. Fred smacked him on the side of the head. "RonHermione," Arthur said, "we've had some news today" But before he could finish his statement, the kitchen clock chimed and Harry's arm shifted from traveling' to Hogsmeade." Hermione shrieked, startling everyone into speaking at once. Molly noticed her youngest son slowly sinking into one of the kitchen chairs, his face ashen.

"Everyone," she said, raising her voice to be heard over the din. No such luck; the family continued to speak atop one another, creating a tidal wave of voices. "Harry's back?!" "You mean, he's returning to our world?" "Who's Harry, Dad?" "Of all the nerve" "Dad, who is Harry?" Fine, she thought. "EVERYONE, PLEASE BE QUIET!" she bellowed. The entire family jumped at the sound of Molly's Mum voice' and, knowing better than to ignore it, chose to obey. "Ron, dear," Molly said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder, "are you all right?" Ron rubbed his face hard with the palms of his hands and looked up at his mother and father. Gone was the gray tone in his skin, replaced by what appeared to be fury. "What is going on?" he roared. The children in the other room stopped their play, sending worried looks at their grandparents. Arthur left the room to take the boys into his study. Hermione sat next to Ron, linking her fingers in his and laying her other hand on his arm in comfort. "Ron, please," she said, "let's not jump to conclusions." Ron turned to her, looking at her sharply. "You just shrieked loud enough to shatter crystal, Hermione! How can you sit there so calmly now, after we've both seen his clock hand move for the first time since he abandoned us, and tell me not to jump to conclusions?!" Ginny came forward and sat in a chair next to Ron. It was only then that Ron noticed her eyes they were bloodshot and the fact that she had been crying recently. "Gin," he said, confused, "what in the hell is going on?"

"Harry's back, Ron," Ginny said simply. "He's teaching at Hogwarts next term, same as me." He stared at her for a moment, feeling Hermione's grip on his arm tightening. He turned to see both his wife and his mother with tears in their eyes. The man whom he once loved like one of his brothers (and, in some cases, even more than that) had returned, and caused the three women he loved to cry. Again. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Despite everyone's best intentions, dinner was a fairly somber affair. Ron was silent through most of dinner and dessert. The only moment when the hint of a smile crossed his face was when his father brought in the perfectlyprepared leg of lamb off his new barbeque. When it was time to clean up the kitchen, the twins were pressed into duty (choosing to place exploding candles on their father's favorite German chocolate cake proved to have been a poor idea). Bill was busying himself with telling the children a story about their uncle Charlie and his dragons, Ginny and Hermione watching on with melancholy smiles. Arthur noticed Ron slipping past his mother (knitting her fifth Weasley jumper of the year) and out the front door. With a sigh, he rose from the couch next to Molly and, picking up his pipe from the hearth, followed his youngest son outside. Ron was sitting in the porch swing, looking up at the stars and occasionally taking a gulp from his Firewhisky. Arthur frowned: he'd been hitting the whisky fairly heavily during dinner, something Ron only did when he was greatly troubled. He stood next to the swing, lit his pipe and sat. Ron jumped slightly, only then noticing his father's presence. Ruefully, he thought he probably wouldn't have been startled if something as large as a hippogriff rampaged across the porch, so deep he was into his thoughts. Dark thoughts, filled with painful memories he'd spend years locking away. Memories of mischief along forbidden third-floor corridorsof chess games stretching into the wee hours of the morningof midnight raids to the kitchensof a Hogsmeade double-date with his best mate, his little sister, and the girl of his dreams

Of a dark, rainy night when that same best mate came to his home with devastating news. "I've got to go, Ron," Harry said quietly, averting his eyes from Ron's crystal blue gaze. "Go? What do you mean go, mate?" Ron said, halfheartedly munching on a broken chocolate frog. When he received no answer, Ron touched Harry's arm to gain his attention. "I can't stay here. Not now," Harry said, now looking Ron in the eye with apprehensive eyes. "I can't watch your mother and father aging in front of my eyes. Your family so bereft of everything that makes the Weasley's and the Burrow home." He gave a ragged sigh. "All of which I caused." "Are you mad?" Ron said, the chocolate frog falling forgotten at his feet. "All you've caused? Voldemort and his cronies caused everything that has happened to this family for the past year, Harry, not you!" "His people wouldn't have targeted your family if it hadn't been for me, Ron! They wouldn't have targeted Sirius or Hermione, Remus or Dumbledore if I had met him on my own." "If you had been stupid enough to have done that, you would be moldering in a grave, you git," Ron said, furiously. "Now, enough of all this rubbish, Harry. You're staying here, marrying Ginny, having a horde of children and growing old with all of us." "I've made up my mind, Ron," Harry said, his voice taking on a tone Ron had never heard before. "Now that Hermione is out of the woods I'm leaving for good." Ron stared at his friend incredulously. "You ARE mad," he spat. "A selfish, pig-headed, moron, that's what you are! What about Mum and Dad? They love you like one of us, Harry don't you know this will kill them?" Harry stood silent, staring off into the distance. "What about Ginny? You said you loved her and would never do anything to hurt her, remember that?" Ron grabbed Harry's arm and spun him around to face him. "I asked her to come with me," Harry said hoarsely. "But she's staying here."

Ron looked horrorstruck. "You asked her to go with you? To leave her family?" Harry's eyes pleaded with Ron to understand. "Ron, she means the world to me. Two months ago, I couldn't imagine my life without her, without all of you. But right now, I feel as though I'll come apart if I don't go now." Ron held out a hand, as if to shield himself from the words his best friend was saying. "After everything you told her, Harry?" he said, shutting his eyes tight and shaking his head. "Everything you promised her? You're just abandoning her? Abandoning ALL of us?" Ron remembered only snippets of what happened next; his anger had been too overwhelming. He stared off towards the lights of Ottery St. Catchpole, hearing again the words he'd flung in his fit of rage as Harry had stumbled down the road, cradling his newly-broken jaw: "If that's what you want, PISS OFF, you miserable bastard! I hope you rot in hell for this! If you ever hurt me or mine again, I will kill you!" With those words, Harry and Ron's friendship had come crashing apart, leaving Ron a sobbing heap on the Burrow's front stoop. "Knut for your thoughts," Arthur said, puffing on his pipe and bringing Ron out of his dark ruminations. "Oh," Ron sighed, running his fingers through his bright red hair, "I'd think that would be fairly obvious, Dad." Looking out at the night sky, Arthur frowned. "Son, I knew this news would hit you the hardest. You and Harry were like brothers. No," he said, shifting slightly and putting an arm around the back of the swing, his hand on Ron's shoulder. "The two of you were closer than that comrades and confidants." Ron paused, taking a sip from his whisky. "All these years, Dadand nothing. Not so much as a line letting us know he was alive or dead." "Well, son, your last words to the boy were fairly specific," Arthur said, puffing on his pipe. Ron blinked at him with shock. Arthur chuckled and cradled the back of Ron's neck in his palm. "Well, you were bellowing loud enough for the people in the next town to hear."

Ron flushed brick red he wondered if his father had seen him laying Harry out with one right uppercut. He desperately hoped not. "I had no idea you heard that," he said indignantly. "Had no idea I had to worry about my own father eavesdropping on my conversations." He felt his father touch his shoulder again. "Son, believe me when I say I wish I hadn't heard what you said to Harry that night," Arthur said, sadly. "My broken heart had had quite enough to deal with at the time. However, I think yours was the more broken of the two of our hearts that night." "No, Dad," Ron said, clearing his suddenly tightened throat. "Ginny's heart won the day for that." "Promise me this, Ron," Arthur said. "Promise me that you won't do anything rash. I know that temper of yours, particularly when it comes to those who are closest to you. We don't know what his intentions are, whether he plans on trying to contact us again, anything. All of you were so young back then. The things done in one's youth can be reckless and unthinking of the long term consequences." Ron heard the creak of wood as his father leaned back against the swing. With a light nudge with his toe, Ron set the swing into motion, as the pipe smoke swirled around both of their heads. Ron sighed. It was as if the pipe smoke and his father's voice were weaving blankets of comfort around his bruised heart. Arthur placed his palm around the back of Ron's neck again, giving it a soothing squeeze as they sat for several minutes, staring at the stars in the sky until Hermione stepped out onto the porch, bringing the sounds of the home outside with her. "Ron, Arthur, I'm sorry," Hermione said, placing a hand against the small of her back, "but Matthew is dead on his feet and I've got an early appointment tomorrow in Diagon Alley before I head into the office." "Of course, Mione," Ron said rising from the swing and walking over to her to rub her shoulders. "I'll get Matt bundled out to the car and say our goodnights." He turned to his father, still seated on the swing. "Dad, I'm sorry if my mood put a dark cloud on your birthday." "Nonsense, son," Arthur said, standing and offering his hand for his son to shake. "It's been quite a day, that's certain. Unexpected in some ways, but surrounded by my family all the same. I wouldn't have it any other way."

Ron took his father's hand and pulled him into a warm embrace. "Happy birthday, Dad." Arthur gave Ron's broad shoulders a hearty pound. "We'll see you on Sunday!" Ron turned and, with one last squeeze of his wife's hand, walked into the house, closing the door behind him. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Arthur watched with sadness as his son walked into the house, hoping that some of what he'd said was of comfort to him. He turned his gaze onto his daughter-in-law, and tucked an arm around her shoulders. "Thank you, Arthur," Hermione said gratefully. "You always have a way of helping him through those dark spots he wanders into from time to time." Arthur shrugged, smiling at Hermione, who just happened to be his executive assistant at the Ministry. "He's my boy, Hermione. I wouldn't have it any other way." He looked into her eyes. "Now, do you need to come in a bit late tomorrow? That's perfectly fine, Hermione I've got meetings with my department heads until 11 o'clock, so we can wait until then to go over the speech for tomorrow's dinner." She smiled, "Oh, thank you Arthur, I appreciate your understanding very much." "Have someone you need to see, don't you," Arthur said, somewhat cryptically. Hermione blinked. She looked at Arthur, who was smiling at her while he tapped out the last bits of ash from his pipe and began to fill it again from his pouch. Understanding dawned. "How on earth did you know?" she said incredulously. "Oh," Arthur said, re-lighting his pipe, "Let's just say that nine years' worth of birthday-candle wishes have come true." Her mouth fell open in shock. "I saw the sparkle that lit your eye when Ginny broke the news about Harry. And you've my blessing, dear." He gazed into the night sky. "I think, in a roundabout sort of way, he may be trying to find his way back to us." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After his horrid confrontation with Ginny earlier that day, Harry had decided his re-grounding into the wizarding world needed to start immediately. He had walked into Hogsmeade, booked a room for several nights at the Three Broomsticks, Apparated back to his Oxford flat, and packed a small bag of clothing. Then he'd spoken to Professor McGonagall through the fire to discuss his needs for the coming school year and made arrangements to tour his classroom and offices first thing the following morning. He would then return to Oxford to perform shrinking spells on the last of the items he intended to take with him, hire movers to take the remainder to storage, and speak with a realtor about selling the flat. He would spend the rest of his holiday at Hogwarts. That evening, Harry had returned to the inn physically and emotionally done in. Madam Rosmerta (looking as striking as she had when he was a student) had been pleased to see him return, and made arrangements for his dinner to be sent up to his room along with a bottle of premium butterbeer from her new microbrewery next door. Eating little, Harry had fallen into a dreamless sleep. Several hours later, he was awakened by sharp tappings on the window of his room. Blearily, he reached for his glasses and turned on the bedside lamp, only to reveal a little owl, flapping furiously to remain aloft in front of the window. For a moment, Harry thought of Ron's old owl, Pigwidgeon. With a shake of his head, he raised the window sash to let the bird into the room. The bird, a very sooty grey owl with black eyetufts, bobbed in the air until he landed with an ungainly thud onto the bedspread. Hedwig, sleeping in her cage nearby, opened one golden eye and ruffled her feathers in what appeared to be disgust. Harry noticed the bird had a piece of parchment in its beak and slipped it free after offering the little bird a treat from Hedwig's dish. The little owl blinked up at Harry, crunching happily on his treat. Dear Harry, It's been a long time and we need to talk. Will you meet me at the Leaky Cauldron tomorrow morning at half past nine o'clock? Please send your response with this owl. I've missed you. Hermione Harry's hand trembled, dropping the note onto the bed. I don't know if my heart can take much more of this, he thought to himself as he looked at the

tiny owl hopping around the room, much to Hedwig's chagrin. Seeing his former girlfriend (he frowned at the word girlfriend' didn't seem to adequately describe what Ginny had been to him) and hearing from one of his dearest friends (close enough to have been considered a sister, for that matter) for the first time in almost a decade. It was as if the axis of his world was returning to its normal spin, after having been forcibly shifted into an off-center wobble. He paused. Returning to its normal spin?' After all this time, what was normal for him, the wizarding world or the Muggle world? He looked up into the stars, which had become his comfort during the past nine years. With any major shift in rotation, one could expect serious problems with disorientation. He only hoped he could do this without causing too much collateral damage. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Many miles away, in a darkened room of a run-down manor house, a man wearing rich robes of black velvet and green satin sat on the edge of his desk, staring out of the window at those same bright stars. Moonlight lit his straight, shoulder-length blond hair, making it appear to glow in the dark. "What news do you have for me that could not wait until morning, Goyle?" Draco Malfoy asked. Gregory Goyle, a lumbering man with hulking shoulders and a large bald head, started. He was certain Draco hadn't heard him approach. "Sir," he said, placing a sealed parchment envelope on the desk behind Draco, "he has returned." Draco turned abruptly, staring at Goyle with an intensity that would have scared a smarter man. "What do you mean, he has returned?' Who is he'?" "Harry Potter, sir," Goyle said, pointing to the parchment. "He was seen at the Three Broomsticks this evening by one of our men in Hogsmeade." Draco picked up the envelope and tore it open. A slightly blurry wizarding photograph of Harry Potter and Madam Rosmerta fell out into his hand. Draco's normally pale face seemed to turn an even lighter shade of white as he saw his nemesis of nine years ago smiling at the innkeeper of the inn. The

photograph could have been an old one, but the streak of white showing in Potter's hair refuted that possibility. Draco looked into Goyle's dull gray eyes. "Contact the others," he said, crumpling the photograph in his fist. 6: Truth and Consequences The sun shone brightly as Hermione walked into the Leaky Cauldron the next day. She was more nervous than she had been her first day at Hogwarts. Her wild tangle of bushy, chestnut hair swirled about her head as she waddled the gait of the heavily pregnant through the pub towards the bar. Tom, the grizzled old barkeeper, whose hair was snow-white and bound tightly in a short queue at the top of his head, stood running a cleaning cloth across the bar, and graced Hermione with his famed toothless grin. "And a good morning to you, Mrs. Weasley!" Tom said, picking up a glass and pouring Hermione a glass of pumpkin juice. "What brings you here to my humble establishment so early this morning?" Hermione, casting a quick Cushioning Charm over the hard, wooden barstool, smiled gratefully as she sat down to enjoy her juice. Tom made this batch (with special pre-natal vitamins) especially for pregnant mothers Ginny had suggested he do so several years ago when she and Hermione had been in the bar during Hermione's first pregnancy. He was well on his way to marketing it through Witch Weekly magazine. "I'm meeting someone before I head into work, Tom," Hermione said, pressing her fingers into the small of her back. "Would it be possible for us to use the back room? We're going to need a little privacy." "Certainly, Mrs. Weasley! It's wonderful to have Ministry officials use our place of business for meetings. Would you require any special refreshments for your party?" "Nothing more than a pot of English Breakfast Tea and one of your currant scones, if you would be so kind, Tom, since I've missed both terribly," a deep voice said behind Hermione's left shoulder. She jumped and turned her head in time to see the figure remove the hood of his cloak to reveal the brilliant green eyes and unruly black hair belonging to a long-lost friend. "Hello, Hermione," Harry said hoarsely, his eyes wary but determined.

Hermione leapt off her stool (as well as a six-month-pregnant woman can leap) and launched herself into his arms, tears streaming down her cheeks. She heard Tom gasp, muttering, "Harry Potteras I live and breathe!" while she took in all that was Harry: the light sandalwood of the soap he favored, the fact that his cloak smelled slightly of cedar, the hidden strength of his arms that had always seemed to surprise her whenever he had hugged her in the past. She relaxed her grip on his neck and felt him brush a kiss on her cheek and envelop her in another hug. Until the little one Hermione was carrying decided he was more cramped than usual and gave a hearty kick. Harry sprang back from Hermione, his eyes shooting down to gaze upon her extended belly. Hands cradling her unborn child, Hermione looked up at him with tear-stained cheeks and a smile to shame the sun. "'Mione," Harry said, awestruck, "look at you!" She beamed and did a quick pirouette. "You look wonderful!" "Oh, Harry," she said, grasping his hand in both of hers, "it is so wonderful to see you again! I've missed you so much!" They found themselves in yet another hug, laughing into one another's hair. "Perhaps we should find that back room to carry on our discussion, 'Mione," Harry said, his grin causing a familiar dimple to appear in his right cheek. "We're drawing more than a little attention." Indeed, there were other customers who were peering out from behind their morning papers, and murmurs were beginning to run through the small crowd gathered there. Tom jumped into action. "This way, Mr. Potter, Mrs. Weasley. I'll bring your tea and scones to you in just a tick!" he said, escorting Harry and Hermione into a small room overlooking a pretty courtyard. Once he'd opened the windows to let a light breeze tease the corners of the room he left, a grin on his face as he shut the door behind him. Hermione sat, staring at Harry as he hung up her cloak and removed his from his shoulders. He had worn Muggle clothing under his cloak, leading her to think he had yet to visit Madam Malkin's for his new professor's robes. Regardless of that, the years had been kind to Harry, she was happy to see. His frame had filled out admirably; he was broader in the shoulder than he had been the last time she'd seen him, and the streak of white in his hair

shone brightly against the jet-black mass. Upon closer inspection, she was surprised to notice a few lines around his eyes. I hope they're laugh lines, but, knowing Harry, I doubt it. Just then, those eyes smiled at her, their corners crinkling and proving her wrong. "Hermione," Harry said, resting his right hand atop her left. "I can't begin to tell you how shocked I was to receive your note last night." "I was afraid you wouldn't come," Hermione said, drinking in Harry's face and smile. "But I hoped you would." "Well," he said, giving her hand a pat, "wouldn't be much of a Gryffindor if I didn't, you know?" They laughed, both slightly nervous. "Honestly," he continued, his eyes growing somber, "I was worried at first. My encounter with Ginny yesterday was not what you could call ... pleasurable." He paused for a moment, a shadow crossing his features. Just then, Tom came into the room with a pitcher of juice, a pot of tea, and a tray of fresh-baked pastries and scones. Smiling their thanks, Hermione and Harry waited until he had closed the door again before continuing their conversation. "Harry," Hermione said, sipping her juice, "what happened yesterday? We didn't hear any of the details, only that you were going to be teaching at Hogwarts next term." She paused, noticing the appearance of a frown on his face. "If you'd rather not" "No," Harry interrupted, taking a moment to chew on a bit of scone. "It's okay. I'll start at the beginning." For the next half-hour, Harry shared all that had happened over the course of the previous week. When he finished, Hermione heaved a huge sigh. "Goodness, Harry," she said, picking up a tea cake and tearing the top of it off. She noticed Harry's smile she'd always "decapitated" tea cakes at school, as both Ron and Harry had always said, while they ate breakfast. "It's still the best part!" she said in response to his grin. Harry chuckled. "I'll take your word for it, 'Mione," he said, polishing off his third scone.

"Besides, Ginny always used to take the bottom half for herself," Hermione said, recalling their mornings together as a foursome, sharing pastries and tea before scrambling off to class. She stole a glance at Harry, noticing that his eyes had lost their sparkle at the mention of Ginny's name. He had always been so good at hiding his emotions, especially in the months preceding the final war, that Hermione had had to learn to look for the tiniest of clues to discern his mood. "Harry, I'm sorry," Hermione said, touching his hand. There was an awkward silence while Harry frowned first into his cup of tea, then out the window, before he turned to face her again. Sensing that he didn't want to dwell on it, she plunged forward. "Now," she said, her voice taking on the bossy tone Harry and Ron had always teased her about. "I know you must have glossed over much of what happened yesterday, since that's what you do when something's upset you. When I saw Gin at the Burrow last night, it was clear that she had spent quite a bit of time crying." Harry looked up sharply at her comment. Aha, she thought to herself. Not anger, but concern. Interesting. "She's wonderful at charms, but glamours could only go so far." Harry grimaced. "Wehad a bit of an argument," he said, idly running his fingertip around the edge of his teacup. Hermione arched a brow. "Well? We did!" he said, a bit defensively. "I bet it was some argument, Harry," Hermione said, taking a sip of her juice and nabbing part of Harry's scone from his plate. "I'm surprised you're still standing, to tell you the truth. You know how bad her temper is." She paused, watching the way Harry's eyes failed to settle on her face, how a dull shade of red rode the edge of his cheekbones. "Tell me, Harry. What happened?" "'Mione, I really don't want to get you stuck in the middle of things between the two of us. I can't imagine Ron was at all thrilled with your plan to come here to meet me today." Now it was Hermione's turn to blush. She coughed lightly and averted her eyes. When she chanced a glance at him, it was clear he had put two and two together. "He doesn't have a clue that you're here with me right now, does he?" Harry said. Hermione sadly shook her head. His face paled. "Are you mad? With

all of the people here having seen the two of us? If he doesn't know by now, he'll know the minute either one of us leaves here!" Hermione grabbed his arm before he could rise to his feet. "Harry, Ron was called away from home late last night for a disappearance," she said, idly rubbing her stomach, a frown crossing her brow. "Chances are he's at home by now, trying to catch up on his sleep." Ron was one of the upper level officers in the Magical Law Enforcement office and one of the best Aurors the department had ever had. While the work was oftentimes dangerous, Ron's talent for strategic thinking and logical problem-solving had made him a natural for the job and an invaluable asset to any of the squads. Harry was shaking his head. "That doesn't matter, Hermione," he said, laying a couple of Galleons and several Sickles onto the table to pay for their breakfast. "After yesterday's disastrous meeting with Ginny, I made a promise to myself that, if things were going to work out for me here in the wizarding world, it would have to be done up-front and out in the open. And I won't have you jeopardizing your health," he directed a pointed gaze at her stomach, "or your relationship with that git of a husband of yours by meeting me in secret." Hermione frowned, and this time it was a frown of someone bordering the edge of her temper. "I am not a child, Harry," she said, poking a finger into his chest and making him wince. "I can handle Ron. Now," she said firmly, "tell me how things were at Oxford" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Several hours later, Ron Apparated into his living room, grimy and more than a little grumpy from sleep deprivation. Last night, a young witch had disappeared after leaving the local wizarding pub in the town of Sheffield. This attack, like so many others in the previous few months, had all the earmarks of the Death Eaters' attacks from years ago. Ron and his team had arrived on the scene within an hour of her disappearance and, despite their best efforts for six solid hours, they'd made no progress. He set his notes down on the little bench in the entryway, kicked off his boots and grimaced. Little hunks of caked-on muck fell onto Hermione's freshly-swept floor and onto the carpet her parents had given them as a

wedding gift. He muttered a quick Cleaning Charm on floor, carpet, and boots, and headed into the kitchen. He noticed a pile of freshly-baked teacakes on a plate and smiled. He started the electric tea pot (a wedding gift from Hermione's great aunt, which they hadn't had the heart to refuse and, by dumb luck, both wound up loving), plucked up the note from the top tea cake and leant against the counter to read: "Dear Ron, I thought you might like some of your favorite cakes when you got home. I had an early meeting at Diagon Alley will be in the office by 10:30 AM. Hope everything went well last night. Remember, Matthew's Wee Wizards meeting at the Longbottoms starts at 6 PM, so we'll have dinner a bit early tonight. I love you! H He grinned as he munched on his cake. Matthew in Wee Wizards. He could hardly believe his little son was old enough to join, since it seemed like only yesterday that he was born. Memories of that night flashed in his mind. Hermione struggling for so long at home (where she had insisted her child be born) only to wind up at St. Mungo's; the worry he and the rest of their families had experienced when Ginny had emerged from the birthing suite, telling them of the complications she was facing. He remembered bargaining with every possible deity he could think of, to bring his son safely into the world. When he was finally allowed into the delivery room, to see her face so pale, so fragile but radiant with joy over the little bundle in her arms, his relief was titanic. He remembered the kiss he'd shared with her, more passionate than any they had shared before, as tears streaked his face and his hand (mammoth!) touched the down-soft, reddish-blonde hair dusting his son's wee head. "Hermione, he's perfect," Ron had breathed, awestruck at the sight of his son suckling hungrily at her breast. "He really is," she'd said, one arm cradling her child, the other stroking the hair off her husband's forehead. "Your hair is a fright, Ronald Weasley." It was true: in the hours that had passed, Ron had raked his fingers through

his hair so much that now, several chunks were standing straight up. "It almost looks as bad as Harry's always did." A shadow crossed Ron's brow. "Ron, please," Hermione had said, resting her palm against his cheek, "not now. I'm sorry I brought that up." "He should be here," Ron said, the shadow turning to full-blown frown in seconds. "Right here, sitting on the other side of the bed, with Ginny at his side, while they met their godson for the first time." A tear had slipped between Hermione's lashes, which Ron had caught with his lips. He'd gathered his wife and son against his broad chest, comforting her while she wept. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ron was torn from his thoughts by the sound of the teapot whistling. He stalked over and snatched the cord from the wall, seeing sparks fly from the outlet and spilling boiling water all over the counter. He cursed under his breath. All during the previous night's search, Ron had found his mind wandering to the events at the Burrow earlier that evening the fact that Harry had returned to their world and would be back at Hogwarts in just a few weeks. The talk Ron had shared with his father had weighed heavily on his mind throughout the night. "The things done in one's youth can be reckless and unthinking of the long-term consequences." Ron thought about all of the things that he and Harry hadn't shared over these years: his decision to propose to Hermione; his stag night, when Fred and George had got him so drunk he was bedridden for three days (much to Hermione's horror); his wedding day, where his brother Bill had stood where Harry was meant to be; the night he'd learned he was to be a father. So many memories, so many years, and for each and every one, knowing there was someone who should be there who wasn't. He'd kept his distance from Harry to support Ginny, he self-righteously thought to himself as he brewed up a pot of tea to go with his muffins. He couldn't have been disloyal to his sister, not after the pain she had been through, seeing Harry walk out of her life. Nor could he be disloyal to his

mum or dad, who mourned Harry's loss as much as they'd mourned Charlie's. You did it for yourself, a nasty little voice in the back of Ron's head sneered. Just like you did when you heard he was one of the champions for the Triwizard Tournament. "That was completely different!" Ron barked, glaring at his reflection in the kitchen window. "Good lord," he said, pausing and shaking his head. "I'm having an argument with myself." Disgusted, he picked up his wand, muttered a quick "Wingardium Leviosa" charm on the tea tray, and headed towards the sun porch to enjoy his morning snack. He was midway through his third cake when a barn owl swooped in through the open window of the sun porch, carrying a copy of The Daily Prophet. He dug into his pocket, found some coins for the delivery owl, and sent it on its way with a bit of muffin in its beak. He took a sip of tea and popped open the paper. He began choking seconds later as he read the headline: HARRY POTTER RETURNS TO DIAGON ALLEY Secret meeting held at Leaky Cauldron By Rita Skeeter, special correspondent The wizarding world was stunned to witness the return of Harry Potter, the destroyer of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and most powerful wizard of our age, to our midst. Re-appearing as suddenly as he departed nearly a decade ago following the Fall of You-Know-Who, Mr. Potter is rumored to have accepted the open Astronomy and Flight professorship positions at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, effective 1 September. According to a confidential source, Mr. Potter was seen breakfasting with an unidentified, bushy-haired witch in the Leaky Cauldron's back room earlier this morning. He was then seen at Madam Malkin's, where he selected several much-needed new robes (as he was seen wearing Muggle clothes prior to his shopping excursion). When approached, he refused to answer questions and promptly Apparated to an unknown destination. Every witch and wizard alive knows the tale of Harry Potter, the young orphan who grew up to defeat the darkest wizard of our time. But what has he been doing lately? According to our research department, Mr. Potter has been living in Oxford for the past several years, where he earned his Muggle doctorate in Astronomy and Physics. Following the break-up of his wellknown relationship with Miss Ginevra Weasley, daughter of the Minister of

Magic, Arthur Weasley, Mr. Potter has remained unmarried and will, in all likelihood, top the list of Most Eligible Wizards before the year is out. Welcome back, Potter! Ron slowly lowered the newspaper until it sat in a crumpled heap in his lap. One sentence leapt out at him over and over again: "Mr. Potter was seen breakfasting with an unidentified, bushy-haired witch in the Leaky Cauldron's back room earlier this morning." Ron frowned: it didn't take an Auror to figure out which bushy-haired witch the Skeeter cow was referring to. "Accio shoes!" Ron shouted, angling his wand towards the front hallway of his house. His boots came pelting towards him and landed at his feet. He shoved his feet into his boots and Apparated. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hermione was sitting at her desk, revising the speech she and Arthur had prepared earlier in the day, when she heard several raised voices outside of her office door. Frowning, she rose to her feet and padded across the carpet. Jeffrey, her assistant, was an intern ready to begin his seventh and final year at Hogwarts. He was a decent young man; however, he had the habit of inviting friends to meet him at the office before heading off to the Leaky Cauldron for a butterbeer. His behavior was always impeccable, which was more than she could say about his friends. This was the third time this week she'd had to tell them to keep the noise down to a dull roar. "What on earth is going on out here, Jeffrey?" she snapped, throwing open the door and stalking out into the reception area. "You will kindly remember this is an office, not a" She paused, her voice catching as she noticed Jeffrey dangling in mid-air, held up by the scruff of his neck by her husband. "Quidditch pitch." Jeffrey turned his frightened gaze towards Hermione. "I'm sorry, Mrs. Weasley! He just burst in here and started shouting at me!" "Ron, for the love of God, put the boy down this instant!" Hermione said, stomping her foot and thwacking him on the side of his head with her wand. She saw Ron wince as he gave Jeffrey another shake before plunking him back down on top of his desk. "Now, get in here and do remember you are in an office!"

Ron, obviously seething, stalked into her office and flung himself onto her sofa. She turned to face her assistant, who was as pale as snow, still perched on the edge of his desk. "Jeffrey," she said crisply, "why don't we call it a day? I'll see you tomorrow." Jeffrey grabbed his cloak and headed towards the door. "Oh, Mrs. Weasley? This came for you a few hours ago. I forgot to give it to you when you finished with the Minister. I'm sorry." With that, he wasted no time in hightailing it out of the foyer. Hermione set a Locking charm on the outer doors and scanned the parchment. It was from Harry. "Dammit," she said, glaring at the locked outer doors. "That boy and I are going to have a little chat tomorrow." She folded up the parchment, tucked it into her pocket, and turned to face Ron. She knew exactly what was coming, although she had hoped she would be able to deal with this in the comfort of her home. Anger was coming off Ron in waves. She noticed that he had what appeared to be a balled-up newspaper in one of his fists, and she knew, in that moment, that Harry had been right. "I was sitting on the porch, eating one of those very nice teacakes you left for me this morning, when I came close to choking to death," Ron said, sitting with exaggerated care on the edge of the sofa, his voice like ice. "Can you guess why?" Hermione sat down on the other end of the sofa and poured herself a glass of water. "I gather you heard about my meeting with Harry," she said with no preamble. "Didn't take The Daily Prophet long to report that piece of news. Let me guess: Rita's up to her old tricks again, right?" "Hermione, this is no joking matter!" Ron said, flinging the paper towards her and surging to his feet. He paced over to the window, dragging his fingers through his shaggy hair. Hermione smoothed out the paper and read the first few sentences of the article, wincing as she read. Rita really pulled out all the stops, she thought to herself. She sighed and, slowly rising to her feet, she walked over to where her husband stood and placed a hand between his shoulders. He turned to face her, and the anguish in his eyes made her gasp. She had expected anger, but not this.

"You went behind my back and met with him! How could you do that? How could you keep something like that from me?" "Ron," Hermione said, taking his hand in hers, "I knew you would be upset and unreasonable if I mentioned my plans to you last night." She took his hand and led him back to the sofa, where they sat, knees touching. "You were so staggered when we heard the news of his return." "We both were," he said defiantly. "Well, that is true," she said, rubbing her thumb across his scarred knuckles. "But I also knew I needed to see him, to speak with him about where he had gone and why he was coming back now." "So, what did he tell you?" Ron said. "Some heaping load of codswallop? Can't get a job out in his beloved Muggle world so he's got to come back here to ours?" Hermione frowned. "Honestly, Ron! As a matter of fact, he did not tell me some 'heaping load of codswallop', as you put it. He was offered a junior professorship at Christchurch when he completed his doctorate as well as two other offers from the States. He is not hurting for job offers." She paused for a moment and gave Ron's hand a tug to get his attention. He turned to stare at her through troubled blue eyes, and she had to smile. "Darling, I went to see Harry because I've missed him. Missed having him in our lives for all of the changes that have happened all these years. Do you know how hungry he was to hear about Matthew? You should have seen his face when I showed him the picture I carry with me." She Summoned her purse over to the sofa and pulled out the little photo of Matthew taking his first wobbly steps, one after another until he fell into his daddy's strong arms, only to be picked up and swung around, his face wreathed in smiles. She touched the photo lovingly and, placing it back into her purse, turned her eyes to find her husband, now standing next to the window again, his eyes filled with tears. "Oh Ron," she said, walking over to where he stood and gathering him into her arms. They clung to one another, gently swaying in front of the window. Hermione smiled through her tears against her husband's broad chest. Ron's size, temper and bulk often intimidated people. Little did they know that, after all was said and done, he was a big teddy bear. The baby in Hermione's womb gave another mighty kick, making her wince. Ron held her out at arm's

length, a look of love and concern on his face. The fact his cheeks shone with newly shed tears of his own made her love him even more than she thought was possible. "I think he's a little tired of all of these hugs I've been getting today," Hermione said, smiling down at her stomach. Ron placed a hand onto her belly and Hermione felt their child give it a thump. "Ron, I know you'd rather I wouldn't, but I am going to see Harry again." She noticed him frowning and gave his chest a little poke, only to soothe it with a rub. "He's my friend as much as he is yours and I need both of you in my life, don't you see? He's missed so much, Ron. I don't want him to miss out on anything else." Ron was silent, but picked up Hermione's hand from his chest and kissed the back of it. "All right," he said, looking into her eyes. "But I'm not quite ready to welcome the git back into my life with open arms. Just promise me you will be honest with me about your meetings with him from now on, OK?" "Honestly, between the two of you, you have enough pride to choke ten hippogriffs," she said, smirking. He arched a brow. She smiled up into his eyes and gave him a quick kiss. "I promise, Ron. Just as long as you promise me you will think about what I've said." "Yes, Madam Executive Assistant to the Minister," he said. "I'll see you at home then?" "Yes, I'm just about finished here. See you in a bit!" She watched him Apparate out of sight and sighed. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Moments later, Ron exited the lift at the Department of Magical Law Enforcement offices and stalked into the Auror's Headquarters. A few heads appeared over their cubicles as they saw him pass, a look of determination creasing his brow. He reached Doris, the department's secretary, and loomed over her desk. Doris, a mousy, little witch somewhere around the age of 50, jumped. Despite his size, Ron could move like a cat when he wanted to. "Hello, Doris, having a good day?" he said, a smile creasing his face. Despite her age, Doris giggled like a schoolgirl. "Say, could I ask a favor?"

"Certainly, Mr. Weasley," Doris simpered. "Could I borrow the Locator Quill for a moment? I need to send a letter to Kingsley and can't for the life of me remember where he's stationed right now." "Oh, it's no problem at all, Mr. Weasley," Doris said, getting up to move to a locked cabinet next to the door. She muttered a charmed passcode at the lock and the door sprang open to reveal a long, narrow box on the top shelf. "I'll need you to sign it out, Mr. Weasley." "Certainly," Ron said, smiling at her as she handed him a clipboard. He signed the document and, handing the board back to her, winked. "Cheers, love. I'll only be a moment!" He walked back to his cubicle and muttered a Silencing charm around the walls. Removing the top of the box, he uncovered a golden quill gleamed against its purple velvet nest. He sat down and, pulling out a parchment envelope, took the quill in his hand and wrote the words 'Harry Potter' on the front of the envelope. The quill shuddered a moment, then slowly began to write in the address: Harry Potter The Three Broomsticks Room 2 Hogsmeade Ron plucked the quill off the envelope and placed it back in its case. He swept back to Doris' desk, thanked her for her assistance, and left Headquarters without a second glance. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry sighed, gazing at his overflowing bed. He hated shopping, especially for clothing. He considered himself to be a man with fairly simple tastes, never wanting to go for the latest fashions or any extra accessories. A pair of jeans, a comfortable shirt, and a decent pair of trainers, and he was content.

So when he'd walked into Madam Malkin's to pick out some new robes, he had figured he would be able to get in and out within 15 to 20 minutes. How wrong that assumption had turned out to be. He had told her a hundred times what he was looking for: Robes in black with red lining, and a simple waistcoat. How was he to know that there were dozens of black robes with red linings in her shop? He'd seen velvet and satin, gabardine and cashmere. Quilted and embossed; embroidered and printed. And waistcoats? She'd shown him every color in the rainbow (and a few he was certain were not). The last several looked like something Gilderoy Lockhart wouldn't be caught dead in, and even the memory of them made Harry's stomach lurch. Finally, after seeing the leering glances Madame Malkin's two young assistants kept throwing at him, he'd decided he would handle trousers on his own. After two excruciating hours, he had finally escaped the shop, having obtained what he was looking for. He'd settled on several jewel-toned waistcoats, his favorite being one that reminded him of one of the tapestries in the Astronomy Tower, which showed the constellations in the Southern Hemisphere. Three black robes (summer, winter, and flying-weight) finished up his new wardrobe. As he'd exited the store, he'd been accosted by none other than Rita Skeeter, whom age had not treated well. She'd appeared to be more insect-like than ever, her glasses now magnifying her already-buggy eyes. Harry had glanced back into the window of Madam Malkin's shop and seen her two assistants giggling. Realization had dawned. No wonder they'd held him hostage for so long: they needed to make sure they got word to the press that he was there. He'd cast a Shrinking spell on all of his packages and, tucking them into his pockets, Apparated back to the Three Broomsticks as quickly as he could. As soon as he'd arrived in his room, he had dashed off a quick note to Hermione to warn her about his encounter with Skeeter, and had watched Hedwig soar out of the window with the hope she would reach Hermione in time to head off a clash with Ron. He sighed as he sorted through his new belongings. He would be heading to the castle in the morning, and wanted to be packed and ready to go first thing. He had made arrangements for several items to be sent directly to his classroom, including the items he had stored at Gringotts all these years.

In the days following the final battle, Harry had been grief-stricken over the loss of Dumbledore. He had only learned of their connection as Godric Gryffindor's heirs six months before, and Harry had reveled in his newfound link with his mentor. During the months prior to the battle, he and Dumbledore had shared their common love of the heavens, and Dumbledore had shown Harry how to use many of the specialized globes and sextants he had collected over the years. When Dumbledore died, Harry had received an official-looking scroll of parchment from Abercrombie Bruce, Wizarding Solicitor. Harry had opened the scroll to reveal Dumbledore's Last Will and Testament. Harry was shocked to discover that Dumbledore had left him his entire collection of astronomical equipment and texts, as well as his Pensieve and diaries. Harry had been too numb to understand the enormity of Dumbledore's gift, and had acquiesced to McGonagall's suggestion that they move the items to Harry's vault at Gringotts until he could decide what he wanted to do with them. How could Dumbledore have known? Harry thought to himself, now that he was about to embark on a teaching career at Hogwarts. A teaching career as the Astronomy professor! He grinned to himself: it would take him a lifetime to figure out how Dumbledore had managed to know the things he did. Harry sighed and started folding his new robes. As he reached for the blue waistcoat, he realized that it was the same color as the robes he had seen Ginny wearing the day before. In the sleepless hours that had followed the arrival of Hermione's note, he'd had a chance to reflect on his behavior with Ginny. Amidst all of his pondering, muttering and musing, he'd come to the conclusion that he'd made a complete horse's ass out of himself. He'd known that Ginny would be teaching at Hogwarts in September; why hadn't he considered the possibility of seeing her at the school when both of them would need to prepare for the coming term? And could he blame her for her surprise at seeing him? He'd been the one who disappeared for nine years, vowing never to return. Why would she think he would be there? And then there was the kiss. What on earth had he been thinking to haul her against him and kiss her as if they were still young lovers? Then the things he had said to her accusing her of forgetting what they had meant to one another, when it was clear from her initial response that she hadn't. He deserved the slap she had given him and a lot more.

You've always known your temper was your Achilles' heel, Potter, he thought ruefully. He had only just finished sealing his trunk when he heard a commotion in the hallway. Frowning, he reached out his hand towards his wand, which was on the desk by the window. "Accio wand!" His wand soared into his hand, and had just turned to face the door when it burst open to reveal the towering shape of his once-best friend, Ron Weasley. Ron's hands were clenching at his sides as he walked stiffly towards Harry, jaw set and eyes flashing. Bugger. He is not pleased to see me, is he? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny'd had an interesting day at work, spending most of her time on the Magical Reversals ward at St. Mungo's, when Parvati Patil-Creevey ran up to her just outside of the ward. "Ginny! How could you keep this such a secret?" she said, bouncing on the balls of her feet. Ginny goggled at Parvati. "What are you talking about?" "That-Harry-is-back-AND-he's-going-to-be-teaching-at-Hogwarts!-Aren'tyou-thrilled?" she said in one breath. Still goggling, Ginny shook her head. "Why on earth would I be thrilled about my ex teaching at the same school I will?" Ginny frowned. "Besides, where did you hear about this?" Parvati paused. "You mean you haven't been to the lounge for tea yet?" "Erno," Ginny said. "I've been stuck in here all day. Why?" "Weeeeeell," Parvati said, a nervous laugh issuing from her mouth, "there's a special edition of The Daily Prophet in the staff room. An article reporting that Harry's back, that he met with some witch at the Leaky Cauldron, and that he's teaching at Hogwarts this autumn." Ginny froze for a moment, then, dropping the patient file on the table, bolted down the hallway at a run. She reached the staff room in record time and

threw open the door to see several of her colleagues staring at her upon her arrival. They glanced back down at the paper in unison, then back at her. Ginny's fists met her hips. "Well? Hand it over!" she demanded. John Bartholomew, one of her fellow mediwizards, jumped and handed over the well-read newsprint. Ginny scanned through the article quickly and realized several things at once: that Harry was in Diagon Alley today; that he'd met with Hermione (nice try at being cagey, Skeeter); and that she needed to talk with Christopher right away. Though she and Christopher were beginning to talk about formalizing their relationship, Ginny had always been reluctant to discuss the details of her past with Harry. For all Christopher knew, Ginny and Harry had casually dated for a time while they were at Hogwarts, but things hadn't worked out, resulting in their separation. Harry's subsequent disappearance from the wizarding world only aided in keeping her quiet about their past. However, as Ginny and Christopher's relationship had intensified, his curiosity about her past with Harry was beginning to become a common topic of discussion, something she wished would stop. This article would only add fuel to an already touchy fire. As soon as her shift was over, Ginny headed to the nearest fireplace and tossed in a pinch of Floo powder. "Christopher Ollivander at Ollivander's Wand Emporium!" she shouted. The flames flared high and, within moments, she saw Christopher's head in the fireplace. "Hi, Ginny!" Christopher said, brushing his hair back from his forehead. "I was just thinking about you!" "Hello, Christopher," Ginny said, plastering a cheerful smile onto her face. "Listen, I was thinking that I would like to cook you dinner at my flat, rather than going out to dinner tonight. Is that OK with you?" She watched as the smile on his face faltered slightly. She knew he'd had to make reservations at the new Midnight Bistro in Hogsmeade several weeks in advance to secure the table he'd wanted. However, she also knew that if they went out, they would wind up being accosted by a member of the press or some other former classmate who would muck things up.

Christopher sighed, a frown appearing on his face. "Are you certain, Ginny? I know you'd like it." "Yes, I'm positive, Christopher," she said eagerly. "I'd love to go to the bistro with you another night, but I'd like tonight to be special." A hint of a smile graced her lips. "Just the two of us. Please?" He visibly swallowed. "ErOK, Ginny," he said, a flush gracing his cheeks and turning the tips of his ears red. "Shall I come by at half past seven as planned?" "That will be perfect," Ginny said, beaming. "Thanks for understanding, Chris. I'll see you soon!" He waved and, with a pop, disappeared. Nodding slightly, Ginny tossed her cloak over her shoulders and Disapparated. Thirty minutes later, she Apparated into the living room of a small flat above Ottery St. Catchpole's high street, her arms laden with the groceries she'd just bought. She loved her little flat and was somewhat saddened that she would be leaving it at the end of the summer. She had grown accustomed to living on her own while she was abroad and, when she'd returned from France, she'd signed the lease within days of her return, much to Molly's chagrin. Eventually, Molly had agreed it had worked out best for both of them they were so much alike now that Ginny was an adult, they both realized trying to live with one another in the same house would have been detrimental to the health of their relationship. As she headed towards the kitchen, she felt the thud of a small head colliding with her ankles, nearly causing her to drop her bags. She stopped and peered over the edge of one bag to see the satiny, black face of her extremely dopey, but loving cat Periwinkle staring up at her. "Peri," she said, her voice tinged with exasperated affection, "I swear, one of these days you will wind up with a tin of tomatoes coshing you on your little pea brain." He merrped at her and led the way into the kitchen, tail held high. As she put away the groceries, he meowed and chirped, walking back and forth across the counter, as if to tell her of his day. Found as a kitten seven years ago, Periwinkle had eyes the color of ancient golden Galleons, which shimmered against the inky black of his fur. At first, she hadn't thought he was remotely magical, but one day, while she was fussing with an experimental potion for healing burns, Periwinkle's eyes had

shifted from their usual gold to a startling ruby red, at which point he began yowling at the top of his lungs. Rushing him to the vet's office, she'd learned that he was a Potioncat. Extremely rare within the wizarding world, these types of cats were chemically sensitive to potion brewing and could, with a moment's notice, alert their owners to whether or not a potion was effective or, better yet, harmful for use. Red eyes meant danger, blue eyes meant ineffective, and green eyes meant perfection. His abilities had been a lifesaver for Ginny when she had been preparing for her final exams at university. Potioncat abilities aside, though, he could be an extremely dopey kitty. It was not uncommon for Ginny to find him chasing his tail around in circles or hissing at his own reflection. Her favorite memory of Peri was when she'd hosted Hermione's bridal shower. In Muggle tradition, she had decorated her flat with balloons, each with curly ribbon streamers. Towards the end of the party, Peri had entertained her guests by running around the room, trailing a balloon in his mouth as he had grown fond of the ribbon! "You may be a goof, silly cat," she said to him, picking him up and scratching beneath his chin, "but you're my goof." She set Peri down on the floor to play with a wad of balled-up paper (his favorite toy) while she prepared dinner, and had just finished changing her clothes when Christopher arrived with a bottle of wine, wearing his nicest robes. She smiled brilliantly and ushered him into her home. Three hours and several courses later, Ginny and Christopher sat on her sofa in front of the fire, sipping glasses of elderberry wine. Ginny noticed Christopher gazing at her quite intently. She'd been putting off discussing Harry for hours now, and she knew she'd better get it over with now, before she lost her nerve. "Chris," she said, setting her glass down and turning to face him. "I need to talk to you about something." "Uh oh, this sounds serious," he said, with a slightly teasing tone in his voice. "Is there something wrong, Ginny?" "Nothing's wrong, per se," she said, biting her lower lip, "but I need to talk to you about Harry."

"Harry Potter, right?" Christopher said, taking her hand in his. "Didn't you date him for a bit when you were at Hogwarts?" Ginny blew out a breath. "Yes," she said. For the next hour, Ginny told Christopher about her past with Harry, how they were linked nearly from the start of their school years following the Chamber of Secrets. She told him of their friendship and how it had turned into a relationship of intense emotions and promises. She shared with him their experiences during the final battle, how they had seen Charlie fall, had brought Hermione and Sirius back to the hospital wing before Voldemort's appearance, and of the last incantations that had brought an end to Voldemort's reign. At last, she shared Harry's leaving and the devastation she'd experienced as a result of it. Finally, she stopped, pressing her handkerchief against her eyes, which had only started to tear towards the end of her tale. It was Christopher's turn to blow out a steadying breath. "So," he said, "there was a bit more to your relationship with him than you mentioned before," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "He was your first love." "My only love," Ginny said, willing him to understand what she was saying, what she was meaning. Christopher blanched. "Your onl" he said, looking into Ginny's eyes. "But I thought" "He's the only person I've ever allowed myself to love, emotionally and physically, Chris," she said, interrupting him. "I've dated others, but I've always held myself back to a certain extentto protect my heart. No one had ever held my heart the way he had." She closed her eyes. "If I didn't give it, I couldn't get hurt." Christopher stood up from the sofa and began to pace. She could see the emotions race across his features as the moments ticked by: anger, jealousy, fear. He'd always been a calming presence in her life, and it was his calmness that had drawn her to him in the first place. Seeing him like this made her feel guilty. She couldn't forget the kiss she'd shared with Harry the day before, and the comparisons with Christopher that had come, unbidden,

to her mind hours later. She knew she was hurting him with this confession, and wished with all her heart that there was some other way. Be honest, Weasley, her conscience nagged. You just want to forget that you snogged Harry Potter again--and liked it! Finally, he turned away from her and leaned the heels of his hands against the mantle, his arms braced as if to keep him from falling. Concerned, she rose from the sofa and walked over to where he stood, his back stiff. When she touched his arm, he started and turned his head to meet her gaze. "Chris, talk to me," she said softly, looking up into his troubled blue eyes. "We've always been able to talk." "You" he said, his voice strangely hoarse. "You mean that you aren't willing to try to love again in your lifetime?" "No Chris, that's not it," Ginny said, now taking his hand in hers. "I want to love again. It's only been during this last year that I've begun to believe it's something that is within my reach. You're responsible for that, Christopher." His eyes, which only moments before had been edgy and guarded, darkened under her words. His posture, however, remained tense. "Well, then, why are you bringing up your relationship with Harry all of a sudden? Is this something we have to re-hash in order for us to move forward together?" he said, running one hand through his hair, the frustration returning to his eyes. "I'm afraid I still don't understand, Gin." "You need to know my past because of something that has happened in the present." Ginny took another steadying breath and squeezed his hand. "He's back." There was a silence only broken by the crackle of the wood in the fireplace and the plaintive meows coming from the kitchen Peri had spotted the leftover chicken from dinner. Christopher blinked once, twice, then narrowed his eyes. "What d'you mean, back?" he said, his posture straightening. Ginny saw something in his eyes that seemed to be preparing for battle.

"Harry is back in the wizarding world and will be teaching at Hogwarts this fall," she said, then paused. "With me." Christopher's eyes seemed to harden even more at that, but before she could respond, her fireplace suddenly flared into green-flamed life and Fred stumbled onto the hearthrug between her and Christopher, forcing the pair to jump backwards to avoid falling. He looked flushed and panicky and frantically dusted off the soot from his cloak. "Fred, what in the hell are you doing here?" Ginny said, half-startled and half-furious. "How did you get through that bloody Locking charm I had on the Floo?" "New product we're developing, Gin," Fred said in a rush, "but there's no time for that now. You've got to come with me!" "Why on earth would I want to come with you, seeing as how you've just broken into my home?" "Gin, trust me," Fred said, frantically tugging at her arm. "There's been aa disagreement at the Three Broomsticks. George is getting Hermione, I'm supposed to bring you. MLES have been called." He swallowed. "We think they might try to throw Ron and Harry in jail." "Someone had to call the Magical Law Enforcement Squad on them?" Ginny's face hardened. "Thosebloodyimbeciles," she said, snatching her arm out of Fred's grip and surging around the sofa to grab her purse and cloak. "Chris, I'm sorry, I've got to go." "Oh no," he said, "I'm coming along as well. You can finish telling me about your relationship with Harry when we get there." Ginny looked up into his face. She couldn't remember ever seeing Christopher looking as possessive as he did just then. A shiver ran through her at the sight. Waving a quick Cleaning charm toward the kitchen (and making certain the chicken was out of reach of prying cat claws), Ginny Disapparated to Hogsmeade, leaving Fred and Christopher to follow.

7: Fall Out

Moments later, Ginny Apparated in front of the Three Broomsticks. She turned as she heard two soft pops behind her; Fred and Christopher appeared a few feet behind her. As soon as she got her bearings, she marched towards the front door of the pub in a ground-eating stride, leaving the others struggling to catch up. As she threw the door open, the scene before her stopped any words she may have planned to use from coming forth. The room was a shambles. There were broken butterbeer bottles all over the floor, and the rustic tables and chairs that helped to give the pub its charm were tossed from one side of the room to the other. There were several wizards wearing the deep blue robes of the MLES, milling around and snapping wizarding photos of the damage. Several officers had a group of people off to the side of the room in an effort to keep them clear of the debris. One of the officers was speaking to an elderly couple over in a corner, occasionally sending ribbons of silver material into what appeared to be a small, bubble-shaped Pensieve. Seated at opposite ends of the bar were Ron and Harry, each of them looking as though they had been through the tortures of the damned. Both men were covered with scrapes and bruises of every size, shape and color. Harry was leaning against the bar, one arm cradling his ribcage, his shirt covered with blood. His eyes were ringed with black and his nose appeared to be lopsided. Ginny could tell right away that it was broken. At the other end of the bar, Ron had an ice bag pressed against his jaw while a trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth. Blood covered his shirt as well. Ginny winced; he had a broken jaw AND a broken nose. He was sitting gingerly atop a bar stool, with one swollen and bloodied hand resting against his groin. Ginny glanced over at Madam Rosmerta, clad in a violet dressing gown, her head an explosion of rag-wrapped, ebony tresses. She was walking back and forth between the two of them, a stream of profanity surging from her mouth. "IN ALL MY YEARS AS PROPRIETRESS OF THIS ESTABLISHMENT, I HAVE NEVER SEEN TWO MEN ACT MORE LIKE A COUPLE OF BLOODY BABOONS THAN THE LIKES OF YOU!" She stalked over to Ron and gave him a wallop on one side of his head. "Hey!" he moaned disjointedly, cradling his jaw, "leave off, woman!" Madam Rosmerta turned and stalked over to Harry's side of the bar and whacked him upside his head.

Harry grabbed his head with his hands and doubling over in agony. "Piss off, you deranged Hydra!" he moaned, turning even paler than before. Madam Rosmerta's cheeks flared an angry red. "You deserve that and more, Mr. Potter," she said, taking her wand out of her pocket and shouting Cleaning charms from one side of the room to the other. Within moments, chairs and tables began whirling about in a mad dance to right themselves. Ginny turned to see Fred staring at Ron and Harry in admiration. She stomped her foot. "Will you get that ridiculous grin off your face and help Madam Rosmerta, you twit?" she said, promptly jabbing Fred in the ribs with her wand. "Oi, Ginny! That's enough of that," said Fred, rubbing his ribs and frowning. He did, however, move from his spot in front of the door and walked over to Madam Rosmerta side to assist her. Ginny walked over to Ron, who eyed her approach with the look of a man doomed for the gallows. "What in the name of all that is holy is the meaning of this, Ronald?" she said in a low, threatening tone, her wand shaking in her fist. Ron swallowed. Ginny could only remember one time when she had ever been this angry with Ron and the results had taken three days to rectify themselves. "You'd better decide to tell me now, Ronald Weasley," she continued in a quiet, sinister voice, "unless you would like to spend the next several days covered in Murtlap-soaked bandages like you did the last time you managed to piss me off this badly." Ron flinched. "Gin, I only came over to speak with him" he said, holding one hand up as if to ward off evil. "Speak with him? SPEAK with him?!" she bellowed. "With what, a sledgehammer?" Ron winced. "I suppose you decided to come over here and 'discuss' his meeting with your wife this morning." She paused, turning her gaze from Ron to Harry. "And one thing led to another, until " "THE PAIR OF YOU DECIDED TO DO YOUR BEST TO KILL ONE ANOTHER!" another voice roared from the doorway. Everyone turned to see Hermione, standing like a Valkyrie on the threshold of the pub, her eyes blazing with fury.

Ron's eyes widened as she approached him as George peered around the room, wincing at the remaining wreckage and at the extent of Harry and Ron's injuries. "Well," he said to the room at large, "if Ron doesn't have any broken bones now, he will in a minute." Ron threw an obscene gesture over at his brother, who shook his head and headed over to where Fred and Madam Rosmerta stood, working out a particularly difficult charm to repair the chandelier. Ginny looked over at Hermione, and started muttering rapid-fire Healing charms over Ron's broken face. "The only reason I'm doing this now is because I'm worried about your unborn child, you idiot," she said, poking him in the side of the nose to see if she'd numbed the pain. He would require a good deal more work over the next several days, but at least he was capable of having a conversation if need be. "Drink this," she said, thrusting a small bottle at him, "and come with me." They walked over to Hermione, who'd settled into a seat near the hearth. Directing a warning glare at Ron, she turned a softer gaze upon her sister-inlaw. "Hermione, please don't strain yourself. Think about the baby." Ron frantically nodded his head in agreement. "Gin's right, love," Ron said, a pleading look crossing his face, "this can't be good for the baby." Hermione rounded on him, rising to her feet and brandishing her wand. "A fine time to think about your wife and child, you insufferable prat," she said, whacking him on the arm with her wand. "Can you imagine my shock and horror when Sirius' head burst through the fire, to tell me I needed to get over to Hogsmeade before you got yourself FIRED? Thank Merlin George Flooed over to get me, since you KNOW I can't fly that-ridiculous-car!" With each word, Hermione pummeled Ron's arm with her wand. "'Mione-love, please," Ron yelped, shielding his face from the red sparks that flew from her wand tip. "Don't you 'Mione-love' me," she said, eyes flashing. Ginny came up to take Hermione's arm. "Hermione, please, have a seat over here," Ginny said, muttering a Padding charm on the worn bench. "Is Matthew OK?"

Hermione, trembling with anger, took a deep breath and sighed. "Molly was over helping me with the quilt I'm making for the bassinet when George arrived. She said she would stay with him while I came over." She sank onto the bench, dropping her wand onto the table and rubbing her eyes. "This is all my fault, you know." Ginny smiled ruefully. "Too right it is," she said, nudging a napkin over to her sister-in-law. At Hermione's look of shock, she snorted. "Look who else is here." She pointed in the direction of the doorway and, standing to the side and surveying the scene through shocked eyes stood Christopher. "We were having a little chat about my relationship with Harry when we got the news." Hermione's head dropped onto the table. "Oh god," she said miserably. Ginny rubbed her back. "Never you mind," she said, Summoning over a pitcher of water and a glass. "We'll take care of things. You stay here and remember: do not upset the baby." Hermione wobbled her head, still cradled in her arms, in a drunken 'yes', while Ginny rose to walk over to Christopher. He watched her as she approached him, his eyes registering both concern and confusion. "Christopher, I'm sorry, but I can't stand here and see both of them in this much pain," Ginny said, her eyes willing him to understand. "I understand, Ginny," he said, rubbing his forehead wearily. "I'll give Madam Rosmerta and the twins a hand with the tidying up before I escort you home." "That will be perfect. Thank you, Christopher. For everything." He nodded, then proceeded to drag her against his chest and kiss the living daylights out of her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry slowly rose to his feet, staring. Who was this huge, Nordic he-man snogging the hell out of Ginny Weasley? His eyebrows came together in a frown, resulting in sheets of white-hot agony screaming through his face. Nauseated, he wobbled back onto his barstool, vowing that as soon as he was healed he would do two things: flay Ron Weasley within an inch of his life for the second face-caving punch he had the misfortune of receiving

during their lifetimes; and hunt down whoever that man was slavering all over his Ginny, and practice a few face-caving punches himself. He thought back on the past hour, during which time he'd gone from quietly packing his belongings to being beaten senseless to towering jealousy. He lifted a finger to gingerly touch his aching nose, only to feel Merlin help him faint. Taking a deep breath, he looked over at Ron. He would have smirked if his face hadn't hurt so badly. At least this time he'd been able to get in a few good shots of his own. His present state only made the memory of his prior encounter with Ron nine years before that much more vivid. Stumbling away from the Burrow, tears of pain and loss streaming from his eyes. His legs still moving, though he didn't know how. Reaching Stoatshead Hill and collapsing. Vomiting what was left in his stomach, the world fading into darkness. Awaking hours later, shivering and filthy, the ache in his jaw nearly forgotten as he recognized the enormity of what he had done: he had severed ties with the only family that had ever cared for him. The only woman he could ever consider a mother in Mrs. Weasley. Then, sickeningly, Ginny's face swam before his eyes: the only woman he had ever loved more than his own life. Somehow, he had managed to Apparate to The Range, Sirius' cottage in Godric's Hollow, and had pounded on the door until his godfather had appeared, horrified by the sight. Refraining from asking the questions that burned the tips of their tongues, Sirius and Remus had taken him to St. Mungo's for treatment. He'd convalesced at the Range for two weeks following his hospitalization. His first two days back had been filled with silence. On the third day, Sirius had finally had enough and insisted Harry tell him what happened. When he'd finished, Sirius had suggested Harry attempt to make amends to the Weasleys. The ferocity of Harry's expression had brought any further discussions regarding reconciliations to a halt. Harry had spent the rest of July in isolation, a state in which he'd was content to linger until he'd received a letter from Professor McGonagall. Dear Mr. Potter, Please find enclosed your NEWT scores for your review. As you can see, you have scored exceptionally well in all of your chosen coursework, in particular Dark Arts and Astronomy. Your scores will grant you the

opportunity to work in any field you wish to embark on within our world, although it is my understanding that you have severed your ties with us. I was greatly saddened to hear about the incident at The Burrow and your decision, Harry. I realize that you may believe this is the best course for you to take and I will not waste either of our time in an effort to dissuade you from it. I send you this letter to extend an offer to you. I have taken the liberties of contacting Ephram Williamson in the Department of Muggle Relations office to develop a set of Muggle transcripts for you. You will find these in the sealed envelope enclosed along with this letter. It is my hope that you will not stew over your current circumstances long and that you might consider continuing your studies at a Muggle college or university. If you choose to do this, please contact me by return owl with the name of the school you wish to attend and I will do everything within my power to assist you in your endeavors. You are a remarkable young man, Harry. Our world (both Wizard and Muggle) is a better place with you in it. Please let me know if there is anything I can do to assist you. I remain, Yours Sincerely Minerva McGonagall Headmistress Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry ~*~ Harry felt someone prodding his side, bringing him out of his musings. It was Ginny, staring up at him, her cloak discarded, revealing a forest-green evening robe. Her hair was a mass of curls falling around her shoulders, a pair of lovely green-stone earrings dangling from her lobes. Must have interrupted a DATE, Harry thought, glowering to himself. "Harry, let me have a look at you," Ginny said, placing one hand on his arm and removing her wand from her pocket with the other, frowning up at his nose. "Gin, you don't have to," Harry said tersely. "It's broken, I can feel it, so a trip to St. Mungo's will do the trick." "I work at St. Mungo's, so I can save you that trip for tonight," she said sternly. Harry tried another tactic.

"Wouldn't want Ron to get the wrong idea, though," he said, shooting a glance at Ron, who was sitting in silence next to Hermione. "I've had just about enough from him in the way of broken bones." "Sod him, the stupid git," Ginny said, glaring at her brother, then turning to whisper a Revealing charm as she moved her wand around Harry's wounded face. "I can fix it," she said, nodding, "but I'll leave that decision up to you. I'm worried about Hermione, though, so why don't you think about it while I check on her and you can let me know if you want me to take care of it for you." She flicked a glance at him, and he was uncertain what he saw in her eyes. "In the meantime, Abiego Doleo!" With one flick of her wand, the pain vanished, leaving Harry blinking his eyes and relaxing his shoulders. When had they gotten so tight? "Thanks, Gin," he stammered as she turned her back to him and walked over to Hermione. Just then, the door of the pub crashed open and in walked Sirius Black, dark hair tied back sharply with a piece of black ribbon, eyes were a study in carefully banked fury. Harry watched as Sirius cast his gaze around the stilldisheveled room, coming to rest on Harry's face. He closed his eyes, bracing himself for Sirius' roar, and was surprised when it didn't come. He snapped open one eye to see Sirius heading over to where Ron was sitting. Harry now allowed a smile to cross his face: Ron was going to wish he were on another planet. "WEASLEY!" roared Sirius, flinging his cloak onto a bench and crossing his arms, wand clenched in his right fist. "Explain!" Harry watched as Ron, rising to his feet with some difficulty, stood at attention in front of his boss. Before he could say anything, however, Sirius extracted a glass ball containing green smoke from his pocket and muttered "Wingardium Leviosa!" over its top. The glass ball hovered in place between Ron and Sirius. "I have here," Sirius began softly, "a report which arrived at my home via owl twenty minutes ago." He stopped, arching an inky black brow at Ron. "Shall I share it with you?" "Y-yes, sir," Ron stammered, concern clearly etched onto his face.

"It begins with a report from Mrs. Heath McGruder, guest of Room 1 here at the Three Broomsticks. She and her husband were settling in for the evening when they heard a crash from the room next door. Room number" Sirius looked at his notes, "two, which had been let to Harry Potter. The report reads as follows." He tapped the ball with his wand, at which point the green smoke turned silvery gray. The top of the ball opened and the wavery voice of an elderly woman filled the room: "Initially, we thought it was one of the inn's ghouls. The clashing and thrashing was extreme. My husband stuck his head out the door just in time to see a large, red-haired man crash through the door of No. 2, doubled over and clearly in pain. A slightly smaller, black-haired man came through the doorway, his shirt covered in blood and something I've never seen before: an aura shining brilliant white around his body. The red-haired man let out a roar. I believe he said something like, 'Keep your bloody hands off my wife and sister!' but that couldn't be. I mean, that would be illegalmarried to your sister? Anyway, the red-haired man shoved the black-haired man down the stairs to the main area of the pub below. Well, we felt it our civic duty to make sure we could accurately report the goings on so we left our room to follow them. Merlin's beard, the obscenities coming from both of their mouths. And you would think two wizards would duel with their wands. No, these two were going after one another with their fists, their teeth, their feet. It was like watching one of those Muggle wrestling shows you see on "Those Amazing Muggles" on the WBC Saturday nights. Tables were flung from one side of the room to the other. A barstool sailed right out of the window next to my dear husband and nearly gave both of us a heart attack. My starsthe mayhem was frightening. Poor Madam Rosmerta was in a right state, swinging something that looked like a Beater's bat and yelling fitto-burst. People screaming, these two throwing punch after punch, until the black-haired one raised his hand, pointed it in the direction of the red-haired one and said "Petrificus Totalis!". Heath?Heath? Do you remember seeing a wand at all? Oh, never mind. Anyhow, when the black-haired one shouted the spell, the red-haired one flew over into the bar. My stars, the crash he made when he landed. He was huge. I wouldn't have believed it if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I tell you. Finally, the black-haired one fell in a heap onto the floor. Well, I told my Heath he needed to call the MLES right away. I've never seen anything like it in my life." Sirius tapped the glass ball, the smoke returning to its original shade of green and waving his wand motioned it down onto the bar. Harry wished

the earth would swallow him up whole. He hazarded a glance at Ron and was somewhat pleased to see him looking slightly nauseated. "Now," Sirius said, resuming his pacing in front of Ron, "Based on the description of the two parties involved, I had a very good idea it had something to do with you and Harry. However, I happened to know that Harry decided not to disclose his location to anyone other than Remus and me." He paused, slowly rolling his wand back and forth between the fingers of his right hand. "So, I had to ask myself how on earth you, Ron, happened to find out where he was staying?" He withdrew a second glass ball from his pocket, this one with swirling orange smoke. Tapping the ball with his wand, the ball levitated between Ron and him. The smoke turned silver gray and a slightly girlish voice issued forth. Harry saw Ron's face turn white. "Statement of Doris Blankenship, Secretary, MLES Headquarters. At approximately 1700 hours this evening, Captain Ronald Weasley came to my desk requesting the use of the Locator Quill to assist him in finding Kingsley Shacklebolt" Sirius snapped the glass ball shut. "When we audited the quill for its last recorded use, Captain Weasley, imagine our surprise when Harry's location appeared on the parchment." Ron swallowed visibly and he turned to look at Hermione, whose head was cradled in her hands. Harry's amusement at Ron's misfortune was quickly being replaced with dread. Any satisfaction he may have had pounding Ron into a pulp was gone as the ramifications of their actions became clear. Sirius walked up and stood within inches of Ron, a study in barely-contained fury. "Captain Weasley, you could be facing charges of Assault, Destruction of Private Property, and Unauthorized Use of MLES Property. Consider yourself suspended with pay pending a disciplinary hearing to be scheduled within the next seven days." Ron flinched as though being punched in the stomach. Harry thought he could see a tinge of sadness in Sirius' eyes. "It is because you've been a friend to me for so many years that I have not fired you outright, Ron. Please take these next several days to reflect on what has happened here tonight." He cleared his throat and stepped back, looking from Hermione to Ron, pinning him to the spot. "I'll expect you in my office at 0800 hours in seven days' time, understood?"

"Y-yes, sir," Ron said hoarsely. Harry watched as Sirius touched Hermione on her shoulder, whispering something into her ear. Her face pale, Harry saw her nod slightly and rise to her feet, Ginny standing close to her side. "Ron," Hermione said, "Let's go home." She turned and looked at Harry, tears in her eyes. Harry rose to his feet. "Sirius," he said, bringing his godfather to a halt before he reached the door. "I wish to formally decline pressing assault charges, and am willing to pay for the damage to the pub, if that will satisfy Madam Rosmerta." He watched as she paused then nodded. "If I am reimbursed for the damages to my establishment and given their word that they will never resort to fisticuffs here in future, I will decline pressing destruction of property charges, Secretary Black," Madam Rosmerta said, her eyes still roaming over the remaining damage to her pub. "Mr. Potter," she said, drawing Harry's attention back to her face. He vaguely remembered calling her a rather unflattering name and was struggling to come up with a way to make amends when he heard her say, "I will expect you to pay for your room in full and leave the premises immediately." Ice filled his chest. "Harry, you can come to The Range for the night," Sirius said firmly. "The wards are set to you, so feel free to settle your affairs here and come when you're ready." "Thank you, Sirius," he said dully. He raised his eyes to Ron, who was glaring at him over Hermione's head. "I insist on paying for half the cost of the damage, Potter," Ron spat, his voice sounding slightly slurred due to his massively-swollen bottom lip. "We don't take handouts in this family." "RON," Hermione said, horrified. "Let's go. NOW." She shoved him towards the door, turning to face Harry, a silent apology in her eyes. Harry nodded, sending her a gentle smile as she turned and followed Ron out of the door. He felt a hand at his elbow and turned to find Ginny standing in front of him, her eyes reddened.

"Gin," Harry said, "Gin, I'm so sorry." He touched the hand she had placed on his arm. "I swear I didn't mean to hurt him and I certainly didn't mean to land him in all of this trouble." I know, Harry," she said, defeated, "I know. I'll go and check on him at home in a little while." He nodded, feeling miserable about the events of that evening. "Please, let me take care of your nose for you." She raised her wand and whispered a Healing Charm over his battered face and removed a small flask from her bag. "Some Skele-Gro," she said, a small smile creasing her face. Harry winced, remembering how miserable he had been, lying in the hospital wing while the bones of his right arm were re-grown following Dobby's Bludger attack. "The Healing charm can handle the damage to the nasal passages and the tissue damage, but there's nothing quite like SkeleGro to handle the healing of bone and cartilage." She frowned up into his eyes and whispered a Revealing charm over his face again, nodding. "The Painkilling charm I gave you earlier will keep the pin pricking that comes with the use of the potion down to a minimum." Harry blew out a breath and, with a shudder, untwisted the cap from the flask and downed a hearty swallow of the clear, yet bitter, liquid. It hasn't improved at all over the years, he thought to himself, as he forced the foul liquid down his objecting throat. Ginny looked him in the eye again. "While I've done my best to take care of the most serious of your injuries, you really should have someone give you a full physical first thing tomorrow." She reached into her purse and extracted a card. "This is my boss, Joshua Buckle," she said, handing the card to Harry. "I'll let him know he should expect you in the morning." Harry nodded, taking the card and was about to hand the flask back to Ginny when a large shadow crossed into his field of vision. "Ginny," a low voice came from Harry's left, "would you care to introduce us?" Bloody hell, he thought to himself. I'd completely forgotten about Sven over there. Ginny jumped, bobbling the flask, which fell out of her grasp. Harry's hand flashed out to catch it before it fell, his Quidditch reflexes as sharp as ever. "H-Harry," she said, stammering nervously, "this is Christopher Ollivander. Chris, Harry Potter."

"Ollivander," Harry handed Ginny the flask of tonic and extended his hand towards Christopher, only to feel his fingers being squeezed very hard. It took everything within him not to wince. "Potter," Christopher said, drawing himself up to his full height. Harry noticed, with some discomfort, that Ollivander rivaled Ron for height and bulk. "My apologies for interrupting your evening," Harry said coolly, extracting his hand and placing it behind his back, gingerly moving his fingers to ensure their function. "I can assure you this is not how I intended my last night before heading to Hogwarts to be." Time to be magnanimous, Potter. "Perhaps you both will allow me to treat you to dinner some evening as a way of making amends?" Why on earth was his stomach lurching? "That won't be necessary, Potter," Christopher said, placing a proprietary arm around Ginny's waist, his hand resting low on her hip. Harry's mouth went dry as he raised his narrowing eyes to Christopher's. "Ginny, we should be getting back now." He steered Ginny towards the door of the pub. "Best of luck at Hogwarts, Potter," Christopher said with a smile that failed to reach his eyes. "I'm certain we will see one another soon." Harry watched as Ginny raised her hand in farewell as she and Christopher left the building. He heard a faint pop as they Apparated from the pub. Suddenly, the mirror behind the bar shattered into a million pieces, causing Madam Rosmerta to shriek another stream of obscenities. Harry winced, mentally adding that to his share of the damages. That was the second time he'd lost his temper in so many days. And both times Ginny had had something to do with it. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Lindsay Garthwaite was thirsty. She'd been in this darkened room for several hours, her wrists bound behind the back of the hard wooden chair they'd placed her in after they'd finished with her. Her throat felt as though it was on fire from her thirst, but also from the screams she'd uttered throughout the night. Why hadn't she stayed at home? The fight she'd had with her mother hadn't been as bad as usual, but she'd still felt the idiotic need to sneak out of the

house after everyone had gone to bed. She'd only planned to meet her boyfriend Daniel at the Wand and Whistle for a little while. And when he hadn't shown up, the tears she'd held in check all evening raced down her cheeks. She'd been about to leave when a gentleman with luxurious blond hair had offered her a glass of Firewhisky. Mum always warned me not to take drinks from strange men, she thought to herself, shifting painfully on the chair and wishing she were dead. The pain had been indescribable. Curse after curse had rained down upon her from black-garbed wizards, all of whom had had their faces covered, all with the exception of the blond "gentleman" from the pub. After what he'd done to her, she wished he had had his face covered, for she feared she would never be able to erase his face from her mind's eye again. A shiver coursed through her body, and she found herself wishing they'd had the decency to cover her nakedness. Her stomach swam with nausea as she looked down at her body, now covered with dirt, blood and The door to the room opened and the blond "gentleman" approached her. She could see his face, which had dazzled her hours ago, wearing a sinister smile. "Miss Garthwaite," he said, his voice sneering, "you're a filthy mess. GoochBosse," he motioning to a pair of house elves, both wizened and gnarled. "Clean her up and bring her to the den. We have need of her again." Lindsay's back straightened. Her insides fluttered like a cage of captive butterflies, only serving to make her even more nauseated. She knew what they meant by "need". If she didn't say something now she didn't think she would ever have the chance again. "Please, sir," she said, her voice hoarse and rasping. "My family will pay whatever ransom you are requesting. Please, don't hurt me any more." The man smiled again and Lindsay would have sworn his eyes glittered malevolently. "Who said anything about ransom?" he said as he turned and walked towards the door. The house elves scuttled over to her, wringing out mouldy-looking sponges and grinning. The horror of the man's smile drained the blood from her face as she watched him leave the room, the door slowly closing with a 'click' of finality.

8: Aftermath Harry rose to his feet and dusted off his jeans as he finished re-arranging his classroom for what seemed to be the hundredth time. His classroom, he thought, a ridiculous smile crossing his face. Twenty desks were lined up in a semi-circle, facing two double blackboards, the top two set on rollers which could be raised with the flick of his wand to expose the second set of blackboards beneath them. He'd written the names of the planets and their moons as well as the major constellations for each of the hemispheres on the top set, sending them back up towards the top and leaving the bottom set unmarked for use during class. He gazed up at the still-barren ceiling overhead. He even had plans for that, the most important of which was a large, working model of the solar system to be suspended above his student's heads. He ran his hand lovingly across the crystal globe's surface, remembering the first time Dumbledore had shown it to him, eyes twinkling, his countenance relaxed with the sheer pleasure of its artistry. His gaze crossed to the portraits he had ringing the room: famous Muggle physicists and wizarding astronomers including one of Dumbledore. He'd asked that the crystal globe Dumbledore was so fond of to be part of the picture. The Astronomy tower had always been one of his favorite places at Hogwarts. Its design was wonderful: round and imposing, it rose 1400 feet off of the ground, the tallest of the Hogwarts towers. It was topped with a surface 60 feet in diameter an open-air classroom where practical lessons were conducted at midnight once a week, weather permitting. The crenellations ringing the top of the tower allowed the students to easily slip their telescopes through them to view the details of the horizon. The spiral staircase leading from the indoor classroom below was a full three stories high; another, smaller spiral staircase led to his office and private rooms. He grabbed the bottle of butterbeer he had sitting on his desk and climbed the latter, crossing the landing at the top and stepping into his office. He'd kept his office fairly plain, choosing to keep only a couple of his favorite globes, and Dumbledore's Pensieve and sextants here instead of in the indoor classroom below. It had taken him most of his first week at Hogwarts to get things settled to his liking. Of course, it hadn't helped that he'd been nursing several broken ribs and a bruised hip at the time, but he'd persevered through the discomfort as best he could.

He'd heeded Madam Rosmerta's request to leave only moments after Ginny had left the pub with Christopher that night. Spending only as much time as he needed to shrink his trunks to pocket-size, he'd Apparated straight to The Range, feeling queasy and disoriented upon his arrival. Given his physical state, Apparating had probably not been a good idea, however he could see himself only being more severely injured if he'd attempted to Floo over. Sirius and Remus had said nothing as he limped through the door and up the stairs to his room. He'd spent the next morning at St. Mungo's with Healer Buckle and been given the clearance to move to Hogwarts directly. Madam Pomfrey had insisted he check in with her each evening so she could keep track of his recovery, and it had seemed fitting that Harry should have to spend some time in the hospital wing upon his return to Hogwarts. The press had had a field day with what was referred to as "The Broomsticks Brawl". While the Daily Prophet's coverage had stuck with the facts of the incident, the report in The Quibbler had been downright embarrassing. Mrs. McGruder had granted an exclusive interview with the Quibbler's "investigative reporter" Gerald Rivers that had landed at the staff breakfast table three days after his arrival at the school. Broomstick Brawl "Screams echoed into the night as the patrons of The Three Broomsticks, Hogsmeade's pub and inn, fled from a Muggle-style, knock-down, drag-out fight between Harry "The Boy Who Lived" Potter and his former best mate' Ron Weasley last Thursday night. "Mrs. Heath McGruder, who hails from Edinburgh, granted The Quibbler exclusive rights to her eye-witness account of blood, obscenities and property destruction" His meeting with Headmistress McGonagall the day after the fight had not been pleasant. "Professor Potter," McGonagall said in the unmistakable tone of the nonetoo-pleased. "I would like a word with you in my office," Harry slowly closed the magazine and, removing his napkin from his lap, rose to his feet to follow her out of the Great Hall. They walked through the hallways in silence until they reached her office. She motioned him into a chair and settled in behind her desk. "Harry," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose before placing the square spectacles back in their place, "it's

been three days since you arrived at the castle, and I have refrained from inquiring about the incident in Hogsmeade until now. For good reason." She paused, her nostrils flaring slightly. "I don't want to know the details, with which I am certain the Prophet and the Quibbler are filled. I simply want an explanation, in your words, of the reasons for it." "Headmistress," he said uneasily, "there is no excuse for my behaviour. I can honestly say that when Ron showed up at the inn, I had no intention of harming him. I was, to be perfectly frank, very nervous about seeing or speaking to him again. I wasn't surprised when he swung at me he promised me he would the last time we spoke to one another and a part of me welcomed the blows." She blinked at him incredulously. "Why on earth would you welcome the blows, Harry?" "Because he was right," Harry said. His fingers dove nervously into his shoulder-length hair, disturbing the ponytail he'd secured at the nape of his neck with an elastic band. "I hurt the Weasleys in ways I had no idea I would have at the time, and there's a part of me that feels I should be punished by them for what I did." "Well," McGonagall said with a sniff, "public floggings went the way of the dodo decades ago, Harry. And as a member of this staff, participating in a barroom brawl is not only irresponsible but completely unacceptable. The parents of our students are sending their children here, not only to learn Transfiguration and Potions, but how to live their lives as decent members of our world. Having one of their teachers a teacher who is well-known to everyone within the wizarding world, not to mention one who is closer to them in age and, as such, an obvious role model brawling like a drunken sailor will not do." She straightened her glasses on her nose and pinned him to the chair with an unsympathetic gaze. "Even though you are no longer a student, you are not above punishment." He swallowed. "We gave serious consideration of retracting our offer of a professorship, Harry," she said, causing Harry's stomach to take an unpleasant turn. "However, there was no time to extend offers to other individuals. As a result, we've decided not to offer you the position as Head of Gryffindor House, which was to be announced at the opening feast."

His stomach took another slow turn; he hadn't even realized the Head of House position was open. For a millisecond, imagined what it would have been like, cheering for Gryffindor to win the House AND Quidditch cups, to see them on the mantle of his office, and a wave of sadness washed cold over him. Swallowing his disappointment, he bowed his head. "Yes, Headmistress, I understand." Harry took a swig from his bottle and grimaced Merlin, he wished he could forget that day. Idiot, he muttered to himself as he stood staring at that empty mantle. You've no one to blame but yourself. He could have stopped Ron from pummeling him into oblivion that night, quite easily. Sirius had moved heaven and earth to keep word of Harry's gift for wandless magic out of the newspapers. It wasn't something he had wanted to advertise to the world, at least not yet. The inadvertent celebrity his parents' death and his survival as a child had brought had always discomfited him. His involvement in the final battle against Voldemort and the transfer of power he'd received from Dumbledore had done nothing but increase his fame. Keeping the full extent of his abilities under wraps was something he desperately needed so he could have some hope of having a normal life. He walked over to the door to his rooms. He'd spent his first day at Hogwarts getting his rooms in order and was pleased with the outcome. The four-poster was positioned at a diagonal from the door and draped in rich Gryffindor scarlet. A large, arched window overlooking the grounds and the Quidditch pitch was visible from the bed, and he had spent many mornings staring out of it while propped up against the pillows, resting his still-healing bones and reading his curriculum materials for the upcoming year. Hedwig sat on a perch nearby, snoozing in the late afternoon sun. He glanced out of that bedroom window, checking the position of the sun, and finished off the last of the butterbeer with one gulp and a grin. He had about an hour before dinner and he fancied a bit of flying before then. A brisk ride would do wonders to clear his head. He walked over to the wardrobe, pulled out his flight robes and threw them on over his Muggle rugby shirt and jeans. He plucked up his Firebolt and, bounding up the stairs to the top of the tower, mounted his broom and kicked off into the air with a laugh.

~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny sat back on her heels with a sigh of relief. She'd unpacked and arranged the last of her books onto her office shelves in record time. She'd gotten a late start for the castle and was concerned she would miss her first meal with the staff because of it. In the days following "The Fight", Ginny had found herself counting the hours until she would finish her last shift at St. Mungo's, pack up the last of her things from her flat and head to Hogwarts to start her new career. She winced as she remembered the questions her co-workers had peppered her with when she showed up at work for the afternoon shift, but nothing had bothered her more than the conversation she'd had with her boss just before she started her shift. "Ginny," Joshua Buckle said, glancing up from his cup of tea, "I met Mr. Potter this morning. Nice young chap. Handsome, too, although it was hard to tell under all of those bruises." Ginny gave him a wan smile. "Rather stoic as well, considering his injuries." "What's new?" she said, sardonically. At Joshua's silence, Ginny's sarcasm was replaced by concern. "I treated his broken nose last night. That seemed to be the worst of his injuries." "It was the most obvious of his injuries, but by no means the worst." He picked up a case file and flipped over the cover. "He had a hairline fracture to his skull as well, not to mention several broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder and," he paused, rifling through the file, "a particularly nasty bruise to the inside of his right thigh. Must have just missed a knee to the John Thomas, I'd say." Ginny paled, the grip on her wand causing it to creak under the strain. "Any harder and it would have broken his femur. We were able to patch him up, but he's under Poppy Pomfrey's supervision for the next several days while he gets settled up at Hogwarts. If he wasn't heading straight there I would have hospitalized him at least overnight." "Thank you for taking such good care of him, Joshua," Ginny said, shaken. "He was insisting on going home after that debacle." "It's not like you to miss so many injuries, Ginny," Joshua said, folding up the file and pinning her with his eyes.

"I know," she said, "you know what they say about treating people you know. Your objectivity tends to go out the window. I'd better have Ron come over for a second opinion as well." She made to leave, only to be stopped by Joshua's hand on her arm. "I'm not second-guessing you, Ginny. You've been an outstanding member of our staff since your arrival and I am more than a little sad to see you leaving. I'm asking, as a friend, are you OK?" She nodded, her eyes suspiciously bright, and headed out onto the ward. Ron had gone in for a check up with Joshua later that day and, although Ginny had done a better job of fully diagnosing and treating his injuries, he had been hospitalized overnight for observation. In the days that followed, Ron had gone from argumentative to apologetic with both Hermione and Ginny; however, the apologies had nothing to do with beating Harry to a pulp they had more to do with being sorry he'd been caught. Ginny was so frustrated with him that she hadn't bothered saying goodbye before she'd left their home for her flat to head to Hogwarts. Besides, she'd still had to say goodbye to Christopher. She rose to her feet and began to pace across the floor of her classroom. She'd wanted to talk to him about his behaviour while they'd been at the pub. While she'd expected him to be somewhat protective of her, especially following the discussion they'd been having before Fred's arrival, she had not been prepared for the outright possessiveness he'd demonstrated at the pub. She'd seen the pressure he put upon Harry's hand when they'd been introduced and wouldn't have been surprised if Harry had walked away with a broken finger. Christopher's attitude hadn't helped matters either, and had bordered upon rude. And then there was the kiss. One of the things Ginny had liked about Christopher was the fact he was always mindful of his surrounding and treated her like a lady. That had included a reticence towards public displays of affection. She'd always been the one to encourage him to hold her hand and he'd always seemed embarrassed to kiss her when they were in view of others. So when he'd hauled her against him in the middle of the Three Broomsticks and kissed her as though they had been lovers for years she'd been positively shocked. When she'd caught the expression on Harry's face she'd realized exactly

what was going on. It had nothing to do with passion; Christopher had been marking her as his, and that had made her see red. Since that night, she'd been noticeably cool towards Christopher, coming up with excuses not to spend time with him. The few conversations they'd had following the fight were tense and uncomfortable. Finally, the night before her departure he'd stopped by her flat while she was packing. "Gin, I'm sorry," he'd said, holding out a bouquet of sunflowers and new catnip mouse for Peri. "I acted like a Neanderthal that night for no good reason." "Yes, you did, Christopher," she said, taping the last of her boxes shut and tucking her wand in the bun at the nape of her neck. "I realize I'd given you quite a shock that night, but it was no excuse for you to behave the way you did." She noticed that Peri had already snatched away the mouse and was rolling around the floor with it clutched in his paws, the picture of ecstasy. "Traitor," she mumbled to the cat. She raised her eyes and looked at the flowers, then at him. "Thank you." "You're welcome. Please say you'll forgive me," he said, crossing the threshold and handing her the blooms, "I'd hate for us to part on these terms." "Yes, I'll forgive you if you promise not to act like that again," she said, accepting his token and turning to enter the kitchen for something to put them in. "I know we still need to talk about things, but I'd rather not spend our last evening together as tense as things have been." They'd talked about his day at the shop, played a little chess, and gone to the pub downstairs for a bite to eat before he'd walked her back to her flat and bid her good night. Kissing her goodbye, he'd said, "I understand what you were trying to tell me that night, Ginny. And I hope to be the one who can show you how to love again. Just give me a chance." Now, as she looked at the rows of desks along the sides of the room, she hoped he would be, too. She rose to her feet, stretching like a cat, when a streak of movement caught her eye. Walking towards the window, she saw a familiar, black-haired figure flying fast, reckless rings around one end of the Quidditch pitch.

Suddenly, he tilted his broom down towards the ground and flew straight into a steep descent towards the closely-cropped grass below and drove all thoughts of Christopher from her mind. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Rising smoothly from his dive, Harry shouted with laughter. Merlin, he had missed the blissful caress of the wind in his hair, the smell of the grass and the feeling of absolute freedom. He released the Snitch he'd caught moments ago to let it take to the breeze again, its silvery wings fluttering wildly. He'd nudged his Firebolt up towards the heavens again for another turn around the pitch when he noticed a figure emerge from the castle and head his way. The red hair shining like a beacon made it clear who approached him. Ginny. The hem of her summer dress danced in the breeze as she walked across the grounds towards the pitch. Sitting motionless several feet above the ground, he had a sudden memory of watching her walk across the field in back of the Burrow the summer before his sixth year, laughing as she chattered to Hermione, their steps disturbing the butterflies that rest upon the tall blades of grass. It was at that moment that he'd truly seen Ginny for the first time, seen her as she'd always been, yet different: a lovely, young woman. The rest of that summer had been filled with chance encounters with the young woman Ginny had become, moments when Harry would feel selfconscious to the point of stammering. He would struggle to remember her as Just Ginny, his friend, and at times he would be successful in doing so. Then, something would happen, and the young woman's eyes would meet his; the young woman's laughter would make his heart skip a beat. By the time the summer holidays had come to a close, he had been relieved to arrive at Hogwarts and see his old roommates and the rest of the members of his year. Anything to draw his attention back to something other than the young woman who'd captured his imagination, his very breath. Finally, at breakfast one morning, Seamus had, apparently, had enough and issued a challenge to his fellow sixth-year Gryffindor boys: a date for the next Hogsmeade weekend or face the public humiliation of a naked swim in the lake in December. By the end of the evening, however, he'd done what no one had thought he would do: he'd kissed Ginny Weasley.

Smiling at the memory, Harry nudged the broom to the ground and came to rest about ten feet from where Ginny was standing. Pulling his wand from his pocket, he Summoned the snitch to return to his hand and tucked it into the pocket of his robes as she approached. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Professor Weasley," he said softly. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny started at the unfamiliar title. She glanced up at Harry, his hair windblown from his ride, his robes fluttering in the breeze. She could still see traces of the bruising around his eyes from his broken nose, but was happy to see it had healed straight and strong, just like it had been before the fight. "Thank you very much, Professor Potter," she said with a shy smile. "You look like you are healing well, Harry." She reached forward to lift a lock of white hair away from his brow and noticed his quick intake of breath. She frowned. "You aren't experiencing any pain, are you?" "N-no, I'm fine," he said, transferring the broom handle from one hand to the other. "Poppy has been taking excellent care of me since I've been here." Ginny smiled, shielding her eyes from the sun. "Gin, I wanted to thank you for taking care of me that night, and for the referral to Joshua he was terrific, as were you." She shook her head. "I missed several things, Harry. You could have been seriously injured and I missed it. I'm very sorry." "It's OK," he said, laying his hand briefly on her forearm. "In the end, I've healed up quite nicely and I appreciate your triage." She nodded her acceptance, the silence between them deepening. "You looked terrific up there," she blurted. "You've missed it, haven't you?" "Gods, yes," Harry said, a smile lightening his face and causing Ginny's stomach to do a slow spin, "it was wonderful. I've been itching to get back up on my Firebolt, but Poppy didn't give me clearance until this morning. I've been putting the finishing touches on my class room and offices since then." He looked into her eyes. "Would you like to go for a ride?"

Ginny flushed scarlet. "Oh, no, Harry, thank you very much." "Well, I hope you brought your own broom perhaps we could show the kids a thing or two about Chaser and Seeker strategy?" Her mind flashed to the memory of a long-ago talk beneath the beech tree. "Perhaps," Ginny said, not trusting her mouth to say much of anything else. He glanced at her for a moment, then up at the sun. "Well, we should probably head in for dinner." He shouldered his broomstick and extended a hand. "After you, Ginny." She nodded and, with one more glance into his eyes, led the way back to the castle ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "You look like you've got the weight of the world on your shoulders, laddie," the mirror in Ron and Hermione's bedroom said as Ron stood adjusting his uniform. He glowered at the mirror. "Stating the obvious, are we?" he said, running a comb through his hair for the fourth time. "Dinna mean to upset you, boy," the mirror sniffed. Ron rolled his eyes note to self: next time, buy a mirror in London, not Edinburgh. He frowned and, after running the comb through his hair one more time, turned resolutely away from the bureau and headed out of the bedroom door. His mind was racing he faced a meeting with Sirius in less than an hour, and had not slept well due to worrying. This past week had been the longest week of his life. He'd felt as though his arm had been cut away from the rest of him, isolated at home with no word from his team. The only joy he'd had in his life was spending time with Matthew as he recuperated from his injuries. Hermione had been distant for much of the time, and he knew they would need to talk at some point. Just not now. He could still feel the tenderness of his ribs as he bent to pull on his boots. Merlin, had he made a mess of things. Having had several days of hindsight under his belt, he was horrified at his behaviour the night of the fight. He'd

finally given up his pretense of having only gone over to speak with Harry, although that had taken him two days to do so, including one completely miserable day of poking and prodding at St. Mungo's. Hermione had barely acknowledged his presence during those first couple of days, and he'd reached the point where he could hardly blame her. He had told her he would think about having Harry back in their lives only hours before he tried to beat him to a pulp. That was the kind of thing that would take some time to forgive. Even now, as he reflected on the events of that night, Ron had to admit just seeing Harry again had been overwhelming. He would deny it to the grave, but before his temper grabbed ahold of him, the first glance he'd had of Harry had caused him to seriously consider wrapping his arms around his old best friend's shoulders in a hug. He remembered seeing Ginny walking over to talk with Harry after Sirius had finished with him. Saw how she'd set aside her feelings to take care of him, and she'd been the party Harry's departure had hurt the most. If she could do that, why on earth couldn't he? Because you are a bloody, pig-headed idiot, that's why. Tugging on his waistcoat, he stood up straighter and headed towards the kitchen. As he walked down the hall, he could hear the excited chatterings of his family. "Mummy, we've got a day trip to the zoo today," Matthew said happily, attacking the sausage on his plate with abandon. "My favorite's the lion house, but I heard they have some baby chimpanzees at the ape house, dear." Hermione said, ruffling his hair. "What time do you need to be at camp today? Show me on the clock." She pointed to the Muggle clock next to a miniature version of the Weasley family clock, which had the hands for Ron, Hermione, Matthew and what appeared to be a brand new hand resting on Arriving Soon!' "Eight o'clock, Mummy. Big hand on the twelve and the little hand on the eight," Matthew said, wearing a jam-lined grin. "Which means we'll need to head out in 15 minutes, so finish up your toast and pop into the lav to wash-your-face," she said, punctuating each of her last three words with noisy kisses on his cheeks. Matthew squealed and,

shoveling the last of his toast into his mouth, scrambled off his chair and ran down the hall, straight into his father. "Daddy, you look cool!" Matthew said, inadvertently getting jammy fingers all over Ron's robes. "Thanks Matty," Ron said, smiling ruefully while removing his wand and performing a quick Cleaning charm on his robes to restore them to their previous state. Tucking the wand back into his pocket, he walked into the kitchen, raising his eyes to meet his wife's. "Good morning, Mione." Gods, she looked beautiful. She was nearing her due date and although she was convinced she looked like a zeppelin, he could have sworn she was a radiant as the sun. "Good morning, Ron," she said quietly, moving over to the teapot and pouring him a cup. "Have a bit of breakfast?" "I'm not really all that hungry, love," he said, reaching for his tea and leaning in to give her a kiss. He sighed as he felt her slightly stiffen as his lips touched her cheek. "Hermione, we've got to talk about this." Her shoulders slumped slightly and, turning from the counter, she sat down at the kitchen table. "I want to talk about this, Ron," she said, her eyes troubled, which made his heart clench a little in his chest. "I was so disappointed in you that night." "I know you were," he said, sitting across from her and catching her hand in his, fingering the sapphire ring he'd given her when they became engaged and remembering the look in her eyes the night he'd proposed. "I am as well, now that I've had a chance to think about what happened. I could sit here and give you all of the excuses that have run through my head over the last week, but the fact remains I broke a promise to you and it's up to me to do what it takes for you to trust me again." "Part of that includes Harry," she said fiercely, her brown eyes filled with tears. "I'll not have him missing out on being a part of my life again, of our lives. I was furious when he left us, but I know that he's come back for more than just his teaching career. He's back for his family, even if he doesn't see it yet, and I'm determined for him to have it." She squeezed his hand. "I love you, Ron. When we took our vows, we promised to be true to one another

and to share everything in our lives together. We also promised to respect one another. Can we do that with thisthis wall between us?" "'Mione, I'll try, I really will. I've got to find my own forgiveness for Harry, just as you have. I can and will promise never to do anything like that again. Please be patient with me?" She smiled tremulously, and leaned forward to kiss him gently on the lips. Ron reached forward, cupping the back of her neck with his hand, drawing her closer. By the time he'd released her, the frost that had surrounded them had disappeared. She smiled at him. "Good luck today," she said, touching his cheek. "Thanks, love," he said, rising to his feet and swallowing down his tea in several large gulps. "I'll need all of the luck I can get." With that, he Apparated to the Ministry. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Come in, Captain Weasley." Sirius stood in the doorway, a stern expression on his face, the golden, crossed-wand insignia of the MLES winking on the shoulders of his black uniform. He watched as Ron took a deep breath and crossed the threshold, coming to stand at attention when he heard the door click shut behind him. "At ease, Ron, and have a seat." Gesturing to a hard wooden chair sitting directly in front of his desk, Sirius walked around to the other side, where a chair of sleek leather embossed with the MLES crest awaited him. He picked up a file from his desk, taking a sip of tea as he perused the contents. "Captain Ronald Weasley, in service to the Ministry for the past five yearsattained rank in record time. You've received an Order of Merlin, First Class for your help with the War as well as three commendations for services above and beyond." He snapped the file shut and fixed Ron with a piercing glare. "Can you tell me why one of the most highly decorated members of the MLES would resort to barroom brawling?" Ron flushed brick-red. Taking another deep breath, he raised his eyes to stare directly in Sirius' eyes. "I've no excuse, sir. I only planned on speaking with HaMr. Potter when I accessed the locator quill. However, once I was there, I let my temper get the better of me. Regardless of my initial intentions, sir, my behaviour was inexcusable. I await your judgment."

Sirius arched a brow he'd hoped that Ron would use the time he'd been given during his suspension to think about his actions and was pleased that he wouldn't have to wade through a myriad of excuses to get to the truth. "Ron," he said, putting the file down, "when you refer to your temper, I believe I can rightly assume you still harbor serious feelings about Harry's disappearance" "You mean his desertion," Ron snapped quickly, then paling at his tone "Yes, disappearance, desertion, abandonment any of those terms can apply," Sirius said nodding. "We've known one another for many years, and were friends for several of those years, although if I had to guess, that friendship has been a bit cold since Harry left us nine years ago. I don't expect you and I to become friends again overnight, and I can honestly say I have been pleased with how well we have worked together, despite our differences of opinion when it comes to this one area of our common lives." He took another sip of his tea, placed the cup on the desk and folded his hands. "I try to keep my personal life and my professional life separate, although recent events would suggest otherwise." "Well," Sirius said, "I'm about to cross that line with you. Harry's experiences in those final days of the War involved some of the most intense and spirit-breaking things I think anyone could encounter. I cannot go into detail about them it's not my story to tell but I ask you, Ron, to give him a chance to do that with you." He rose from his desk and came around to sit on one of the corners closest to Ron. "He hasn't shared the details with anyone other than Remus and me, and only because he'd gotten himself drunk and spilled out the story in front of us." He laid a hand on Ron's broad shoulder. "He's coming home, in bits and pieces, Ron. I'd hate for you to miss out on an opportunity for a full accounting, and I believe in my heart that he's beginning to recognize that he owes you all just that." Sirius stood, tugged down on his waistcoat, all business once again. "Captain Weasley, all charges have been declined and you are restored to duty effective immediately. We will have mention of this incident in your personnel folder for the term of one year. At the end of that year, the documentation will be destroyed. However," he paused, looking into Ron's

stunned face, "if there are any further incidences of this nature during this next year, you will be fired. Do I make myself clear?" "Y-yes, sir," Ron said, rising to his feet at attention. "Thank you, sirthank you, Sirius." Sirius nodded brusquely and rounded the corner of his desk again. "Excellent. We need to get you back to work as soon as possible. While you were on suspension, we uncovered the body of that missing witch from pub in Sheffield." He handed Ron another file. "Girl's name was Lindsay Garthwaite, age 22, single, lived with her parents." He paused as he watched Ron read through the file, his face turning white. He'd reached the photos of the scene. "She was brutalized, Ron. Hex marks from the top of her head to her ankles, not to mention signs of rope burns on her wrists and ankles. And," he paused, rubbing his eyes, "she was raped repeatedly by at least three different men." "Dear God," Ron said, slowly closing the file and raising his eyes to meet Sirius'. "Do we have any leads?" One," Sirius said grimly. "She'd been branded on her arm, pre-mortem." Sirius took the file and flipped to one of the photographs, giving it back to Ron. "The Dark Mark."

9: Fall Term "You've got stage fright, lass," the mirror said in a voice belonging to a wizened old grandmother. "That's what it is." Light-headed, Ginny glared at the mirror, which hung above a rough-hewn chest of drawers across the room. "What are you talking about?" she said, pressing a hand to her stomach and sitting on the bench seat at the foot of her bed. "The signs are all there, dear," the mirror said, speaking to her as though she were two years old. "Glassy eyes; pale, clammy skin; and with the way you're holding that trim little waist of yours, I expect your stomach feels as though it could take its leave of you at any moment. Maybe you should have some water."

"Oh, bugger off," Ginny muttered, rubbing her hands over her face. Now was not the time to be suffering from stage fright. It was 1 September the day she'd been planning for more than two weeks, the day she'd been dreaming of since childhood: her first day as a teacher. "Well, really," the mirror said, scandalized. At their first staff meeting weeks before, McGonagall announced there needed to be a change with the Head of House position for Gryffindor. Remus had been acting as Head since Dumbledore's death, however his lycanthropy had caused him to be unavailable several times when the Gryffindors had needed their Head. As a result, McGonagall Had offered to cover his Head of House duties during the times he was afflicted and while he recovered. Now that Harry and Ginny were on staff, Remus looked forward to stepping aside in order to allow one of them the privilege of the job. This afternoon at lunch, McGonagall had finally announced the new Head of House for Gryffindor: Ginny Weasley. She had been shocked to hear her name mentioned; she had been certain Harry would be chosen, especially given his prowess on the Quidditch field. As the rest of the staff clapped for her, she noticed that Harry's shoulders had tightened, the smile on his face almost frozen in place. Finally, he'd leant in to give her a congratulatory kiss on the cheek, whispering "You'll be great, Gin," into her ear; however, something told her there was more to this than she had been privy to. Ginny's stomach did another slow roll as she thought about all of her new responsibilities. Ashen, she walked over to the bedside table in her private quarters at the bottom of Gryffindor Tower. She had been surprised to find that all of her belongings were in the process of being moved from her old quarters near the Charms classroom to her new room as she returned from lunch. Dobby had beamed with pride McGonagall had entrusted him with the task and he'd had a staff of house elves pitching in to assist. It was a spacious room, in comparison to her former quarters. A glorious tapestry depicting a medieval carnival on the Hogwarts grounds hung above the huge fireplace, which waited for the first frosty day of autumn. Her bedroom window overlooked the twilight-shadowed lake. The sound of a distant train whistle broke the silence the students would be arriving soon and she had to get to the Great Hall for a final meeting before they arrived.

Picking up a pitcher she'd charmed to remain icy cold, she poured herself a glass of water. "Sano Aegrotus," "heal the sick" she said, waving her wand over the glass. Tipping it towards the sleeping Periwinkle in an ironic toast, she downed the beverage in several swallows, and the queasiness subsided. Sometimes, she thought to herself, it's good to be a witch. "That's better," the mirror said. "Now that you've got your color back, that gown looks lovely on you, dear." Ginny arched a brow and regarded her reflection in the mirror. She'd chosen a set of navy-blue crushed-velvet robes and matching gown for the Sorting feast one of the several new sets of robes she'd splurged on during her last trip to Diagon Alley. Ginny had taken her mother and Hermione on her shopping spree, and had spent three delightful hours at Madam Malkin's going through various swatches of fabric and patterns, giggling like schoolgirls. Hermione had been particularly eager to tag along, in part to escape the house it had been her last day before maternity leave and she'd been desperate to spend some time with her closest friend and her mother-inlaw before she became housebound with preparations for the newest Weasley's arrival. Jewel tones worked very well on someone with Ginny's complexion, so she'd spent what would have been a month's rent on her new wardrobe. She reached up to straighten her plaited hair once again, but her fussing came to a sudden halt as a realization made the blood drain from her face. "Oh dear," said the mirror, "there it goes again." "Ginny Weasley, who on earth are you fussing for?" she said, glaring angrily at her reflection. Periwinkle, disrupted from his nap by her tone, leapt onto the dresser in front of the mirror and fixed her with a squinty-eyed look, as though he knew what she was saying. She already knew the answer to her rhetorical question, and frowned at her familiar. "I've no reason to fuss for him, isn't that right?" Peri blinked at her, clearly in agreement. During the last two weeks, Ginny had encountered Harry several times within the castle and in Hogsmeade. He was always pleasant, even gentlemanly; however, she'd always felt as though she needed to be on guard with him. The day they'd met on the pitch had brought back more memories

than she'd cared to admit: midnight flights on his Firebolt; trying to study in the library only to feel one of his stockinged feet rubbing against her ankle; that first kiss under the beech tree. That kiss, she thought, smiling despite herself. It had started as a shy, almost tentative exploration of one another's mouths, only to blossom into a sensual dance of tongues. The strength of his arm around her waist had been breathtaking, the caress of her cheek with his Quidditch-roughened hand unforgettable. And when they'd finally broken apart, the setting sun painting the sky in muted tones of pink and purple and orange, the unconscious, throaty moan he'd given had sounded like the sweetest prayer. It was the first of many such prayers' that they would share with one another. It had been her dream come true a dream that had started recurring with disturbing regularity. Ginny shook herself out of her thoughts. I'm doing it again. Remembering the long-ago past of discovery instead of the nearer-past of desertion. This has to stop. She picked up one of the letters she'd received from Christopher, focusing on his words of devotion and affection as she tried to fix his countenance in her mind's eye. A knock sounded on her door, dragging her from her thoughts. Glancing at the clock, she realized she needed to be downstairs now. With a final look in the mirror, she stroked Peri's glossy fur and opened the door. "Harry? What are you doing here?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry jumped at the sound of her voice. He'd honestly thought she'd already headed down to the Great Hall, but he thought he'd stop by anyway. Just in case. Right.

"Evening, Ginny," he said hastily, only to be horrified at his need to clear the frog that had jumped into his throat when he saw her standing in the doorway. The richness of the fabric played across her body like the deepest river. Giving his head a small shake, he swallowed. "I was heading down for the meeting and thought I would stop by and see if you'd like to walk with me." Oh, that's pathetic, Potter, but let's see if it works. "Oh," she said, her hand rising to toy with the small sapphire-blue pendant that teased her throat. "Oh, yes, that's fine, Harry, thanks. I need to get my robe, though. Won't you come in?" She stood to the side to give him room to pass. Nodding, he stepped into her rooms. The first thing he noticed was the massive fireplace heaped with logs, and what appeared to be a plush Oriental hearthrug lying in front of it. He tore his gaze away from it before his mind could wander further into contemplations of the setting's possibilities. "You've a lovely view, Ginny," he said, a little louder than he'd intended. She started as she bent to take her robe from the settee next to the fireplace. "It would be wonderful to watch the boats carrying the first years over to the castle from here, d'you reckon?" "Yes, I'd imagine so," she said, her voice sounding slightly hoarse. "Since I'll be a bit busy, I suppose Peri will enjoy the view." As though on cue, a big black cat chirped from atop the dresser. "Peri?" Harry said, walking over to offer his hand to the cat to sniff. "Short for Periwinkle," she said, smiling. "He's a Potioncat." "It's nice to meet you, Periwinkle," Harry said, stroking the cat's luxurious fur, to be rewarded with a serious head-bump and the deepest purr he'd ever heard from a cat. "A Potioncat? I've never heard of them." "They're quite rare and specialize at potion detection," Ginny said. Harry shook his head, still unclear on what that meant. "He's able to tell if a potion is good or dangerous, or even poisoned." "Brilliant," Harry said, smiling as Peri raised his chin, demanding a chinrub. "Wish I'd had one in Snape's class. Although I'm not sure I'd've wanted to inflict Snape on this handsome boy."

Ginny laughed, making shivers run down his spine. "He's actually made friends with Severus in the last couple of days, although for our Potions master, I'm certain Peri's been more of a nuisance than a help." Harry shook his head. "It's still a challenge for me to call Snape by his first name," he said ruefully. "And vice versa, it would appear. Oh well, it's of no consequence to me. I'm just thrilled I don't have to worry about being one of his students any longer." Ginny nodded. A few seconds of uncomfortable silence stretched between them as Peri glanced from one to the other, finally choosing to leap down from the dresser and curl up on the hearthrug. "Here, let me help you with this," Harry said, shaking himself out of his musings and reaching for the robe Ginny had held in her hands. She turned, lifting her braid away from her back and revealing the nape of her neck, where the smooth alabaster-white satin of her skin was broken only by a small heart-shaped mole to the right of her spine. How many times have you kissed that spot, knowing she would shiver with pleasure? he thought to himself, his mouth suddenly feeling like it was full of ashes as the lily-scented perfume she'd always favoured stirred even more memories. Hands shaking, he placed her robe onto her shoulders and stepped back quickly, somehow finding it hard to breathe. Ginny turned, her cheeks flushed and her eyes darting around the room. "Well," he said, clearing his throat, "we'd better get downstairs. The students will be here soon." They headed to the Great Hall in silence, with only the occasional After you,' or Excuse me' between them. As they walked, Harry kept stealing surreptitious glances at Ginny from the corner of his eye. The light of the hall torches caught the fabric of her robes, turning it into an almost-living thing. He noticed that she'd chosen not to wear a hat to cover her hair, which lay in a thick, waist-length plait down the center of her back, tied with a strip of blue-black velvet. She had only light touches of glamour along her eyelids and on her lips. Harry found himself wondering if the glistening sheen would come off if he were to run his tongue across them. This is going to be a long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Soon, the laughter of hundreds of children echoed throughout the Great Hall as returning students settled into their seats. Ginny marveled at the scene the view was quite different from up on the faculty dais. McGonagall had given quite the rousing speech just before the students were allowed into the Great Hall, and Ginny now found herself smiling at her earlier nerves. She was going to be fine. That was, if she was able to focus her attention on the joyful, shouting masses in front of her instead of the tall wizard sitting to her right. She had no idea what had possessed Harry to appear at her door to walk her down to the Great Hall. OK, that wasn't true she had a very good idea why, but she'd chosen not to entertain that line of thought. It was proving to be difficult, though, for he'd shown up at her door looking positively droolworthy. The boy she'd once known was gone, replaced by a man with grace and bearing that spoke of confidence in his powers. The added length of his hair had taken away some of its trademark unruliness; however, there remained a hint of wildness in its simplicity. The white streak shone almost silver, serving to add drama (not to mention a shade of intrigue) about his eyes, matched by the crispness of his white shirt. He wore a waistcoat of scarlet with golden embroidery, including the Gryffindor crest, which broke the unrelieved severity of his black robes and trousers. As a final touch, he wore new glasses, which were virtually invisible until he turned his head and a bright reflection flickered across the highly-polished edges of the lenses. Young ladies of Hogwarts, she'd thought to herself as they entered the Great Hall for their final staff meeting before the students arrived, you are about to be assailed with a personification of masculine beauty the likes of which hasn't been seen since the days of Gilderoy Lockhart. Merlin help us all. Her prayers were in vain. As the older students appeared in the Great Hall, audible gasps of recognition and gales of giggles bounced off the walls and ceiling. Ginny was particularly horrified to see three Gryffindor girls performing glamours they know better than to use magic in the Great Hall! The girls made a point of sitting as close to the staff end of their table as possible in the hopes of catching his eye.

No point of that, since the new first years will be taking their seats at the near end soon enough, Ginny thought to herself with a sniff. She was pulled from her musings by the sharp bark of his laughter. Professor Sprout had turned out to be quite the comedienne and had engaged the staff with several riddles and jokes over the course of the last couple of weeks. She made a valiant effort not to roll her eyes. They were teachers, after all, not students, and should be comporting themselves with more dignity. She turned to give them a piece of her mind, only to find Harry leaning over in her direction, their faces within an inch of touching. She swallowed this is not good. "I was," he said softly, a flush slowly turning his cheeks a muted red, "going to share Pomona's most recent joke where a ghoul, a vampire and a werewolf go into a pub." "Thanks," Ginny said, a bit hoarsely, "I heard it the other day at luncheon." "AUNTIE GINNY!" came a shout from next to the Gryffindor table. Ginny turned to see her two nephews, Patrick and Phillip, charging up the aisle towards the staff table, and beamed. She adored Percy and Penelope's children, even if they were holy terrors. "Auntie Ginny! We played the wildest trick on some of the first years at the station!" Patrick said, breathless with glee. "Uncles Gred and Forge's Skiving Snackboxes strike again!" added Phillip, slapping Patrick on the back. "Professor Delacour managed to catch on just before the carriages brought us up here," Patrick said with a scowl. "Well, it stands to reason she would, you know," Ginny said, trying to look disapproving. "She's been a friend of the family for years and victim of those snackboxes more than once, I might add. When is your detention?" "Tomorrow night. We've got to muck out the thestral paddock," Phillip said, crinkling his nose.

"Hey! You're Harry Potter!" Patrick said, pointing at Harry. Phillip whipped his head around to focus on Harry. Ginny scowled and fixed both of the boys with her best teacherly glare. "Mind your manners, you two!" she snapped. "And it's Professor Potter' and Professor Weasley' from now until the end of the year." She flicked a glance at Harry. "My apologies, Harry." "No worries, Gin," he said smiling. "Hello, boys it's a pleasure to meet you!" "You beat up Uncle Ron!" said Phillip, more than a little awestruck. Ginny blanched. All levity fled from Harry's voice. "Yes I did, and I'm sorry for it," he said. "Manners, you lot!" Ginny said crossly, glaring at the twins. "If I didn't know you were Percy's children, I'd swear the two of you were raised by wolves. Now, the pair of you will find your seats at the Gryffindor table, or so help me I will be forced to take points from you." The boys grinned mischievously and scrambled back to the table to take their places. Ginny turned to face Harry. "Honestly, I am sorry for that they were showing off for their friends, I just know it." "It's all right, Ginny," Harry said, a shadow of his previous humor returning. "They can't help it if theyre channeling Fred and George, can't they?" Ginny gave him a wan smile and nodded. "Frankly, I regret ever getting into that fight. For more reasons than one." "What do you mean?" "Well," he said, pouring himself some wine from the carafe in front of their empty plates, "obviously, hurting Ron was the last thing I wanted to do that night. Truth be told, it was wonderful to see him again. I'd had no idea how much I'd missed him until I saw him in that hallway, although I would have preferred a handshake rather than the right cross." Ginny smiled slightly. "I was furious with the both of you that night, you know," she said, looking at him over her wine goblet. "I know you were. You had every right to be."

"Neither of you have ever really known your own strength," she said, her brows knitting across her forehead in a frown. "You could have done some permanent damage to yourselves." "Well, I'll promise you now that I'll not tangle with the man again," he said. "I promised as much to Minerva as part of my penance." "Penance?" she said, cocking her head to the side. "I don't understand." "We're back at Hogwarts, Gin. You didn't expect her not to level some kind of punishment for my behaviour, right?" She stared at him for several moments until it hit her. "Head of House. You were to be head of Gryffindor House, right?" He nodded, a shadow crossing his face. "Yes. Having had several days to think about it, it's really for the best, you know. I'm Quidditch referee, so it's best that I don't appear to have anything that could cloud my objectivity. Besides, I think you'll be brilliant at it, Gin. I saw the look you gave your nephews," he said, smiling as he poured some wine into her goblet, "you've got the McGonagall Glare down pat. Not to mention you've had the best tutor there is when it comes to those glares your mum!" he said with a wink. Suddenly, the doors to the Great Hall burst open. In strode Professor Snape, black robes billowing, as he led the forty first-year students up towards the staff table. Ginny marveled at how tiny and terrified they all looked, walking in a huddle several paces behind Snape's form. The procession came to a halt in front of the steps leading to the staff table. "Gor," Harry whispered in her ear, leaning closer and bringing the scent of sandalwood and wine with him, "if Snape had been the one to lead me into the Great Hall the first time, I think I would have turned around and gone back to the Dursley's. He looks like some sort of diabolical parade leader." Ginny coughed to cover her guffaw, with little success. Snape glared at both of them before walking up the steps to stand next to an old, wooden stool upon which sat a raggedy-looking witch's hat: the Sorting Hat. Quite suddenly, the hat began to twitch, causing the first years assembled before it to jump with fright. A tear appeared along the brim of the hat a second before it sang:

More than a thousand years ago Four wizards gathered here. In building Hogwarts School it's sure Their aims would soon be clear: They wanted to provide a place Where youngsters then could be Provided with the schooling that Would train their wizardry. Bold Gryffindor invited in The bravest he could find; The clever witch called Ravenclaw Sought those of ready mind; Shrewd Slytherin invited in Ambitious students all; Proud Hufflepuff took in all those Who answered to her call. To me they set the weighty task To look inside your head To see the house where you belong; I'll search from A to Zed! So step up, sit down, put me on

It's easy, you will see I'll take a peek and find your place Just leave it up to me! "Clever hat," Harry shouted over the wild cheer which rang throughout the Great Hall as the hat bowed from its perch. Ginny smiled as Snape extracted the scroll from under his arm and turned to face the first years. "Come forward when your name is called," Snape said malevolently. "Ackerly, Jude!" Ginny was certain she heard a small squeak come from the front row nearest her end of the line. She peered down and saw a rather small, lovely Asian girl with long black hair shivering with fright, her eyes glued as she watched Jude climb up the steps towards the stool. "GRYFFINDOR!" the hat cried. "Adamson, Jacob!" There was something familiar about the little girl, but before she could lean over to draw Harry's attention to her, she felt his hand on her elbow. "That must be Cho's cousin, Ming," Harry said with a grin, nodding towards the girl. "She told me her little cousin would be starting school this year." "HUFFLEPUFF!" Ginny's spine straightened with what had to have been an audible snap. "You've stayed in touch with Cho?" she said, her tone low and even. She turned to find Harry peering at her with a touch of apprehension, his cheeks flushing scarlet. "Brooks, Trivia!" "She sent me a letter a few days after Skeeter's article ran in the Prophet, you know, announcing my position at Hogwarts," he said quickly. "It's the first time I've heard from her in years since she left Hogwarts, as a matter of fact."

"SLYTHERIN!" "And how are she and Michael?" Ginny said brightly, taking a sip of water and mentally kicking herself all around the room. What on earth was I thinking? I sounded like a jealous schoolgirl, for Merlin's sake. "They married a few years after they left school, right?" "Yes, they did," Harry said, and Ginny was embarrassed to see his shoulders relax. He had heard the tone. "They moved to Hong Kong. Michael heads the archeology department at Kowloon Wizarding College. Two kids, twins, about to turn seven." He put his goblet down and pinned Ginny with his eyes. "Anything else I can clear up for you?" She shook her head and turned her attention to the Sorting. "Carlin, Cyril!" "GRYFFINDOR!" "Chang, Ming" Snape said, peering over the scroll to watch the little girl climb up the steps towards the stool, which appeared to be almost too tall for her. A small step appeared in front of the stool, giving her just enough height to grab the hat and sit down. "RAVENCLAW!" "Harry, I'm sorry," Ginny said as Dougherty, Alison' was sorted into Gryffindor. She was met with silence as Harry looked at her, his eyes intent yet aloof. "Ellington, Kevin!" "HUFFLEPUFF!""Elliott, Nicholas!" "HUFFLEPUFF!" "Fielder, Victoria!" "RAVENCLAW!" Nervous, she continued, "It's just having you back here is so new, especially after the way you just disappeared. The thought of you staying in touch with someone in our world, yet" "Cutting you and your family off with nothing more than an I'm sorry'yeah, I can see where this is going," he said quickly, turning to watch the first years scamper from stool to House table.

"Finnegan, Robin" "GRYFFINDOR!" "Gin, during my absence the only people I stayed in touch with from our world were Sirius, Remus and Minerva, though letters from her were few and far between. Those were mostly involving Dumbledore's estate and its execution in relation to the school." A frown crossed his features. "Remus was his executor, but he left me as his heir." Ginny blinked. "I had no idea, Harry," she said, laying her hand on his arm. He stiffened, which caused her to remove her hand and place it in her lap. Focus on the Sorting, Ginny. They sat in silence as Snape worked his way through the remaining students until he read "Youngblood, Hannah!" off his list. The Sorting Hat cried "RAVENCLAW!" one last time before bowing to the four tables and falling silent. Snape picked up the stool and hat and moved them over to one side of the staff table before taking his seat next to McGonagall, who rose to her feet. "Welcome to Hogwarts, our new and returning students! Before we begin our fine feast we have some start-of-term notices to announce. Mr. Filch has asked me to remind you, yet again, that the Forbidden Forest is strictly out of bounds to all students. Third-years who wish to participate in the Hogsmeade weekends, please turn in your permission forms to your Head of House by tomorrow morning. "We have some new staff we would like to introduce to you now. Professor Potter will be our new Astronomy Professor and Master of Flight, so Quidditch captains, please contact Professor Potter by the end of the week. Those of you who have studied the history of Hogwarts will know Professor Potter was quite the accomplished Quidditch player while he was here in school, so we will look forward to a wonderful season!" There was a great deal of applause and cheering as Harry raised his hand to wave at the students. Ginny noticed that the same girls who'd performed glamours upon themselves standing and clapping the loudest. She rolled her eyes. "Professor Weasley will be our Charms professor," McGonagall continued. "She will also be assisting Madam Pomfrey in the hospital wing as needed and will serve at Gryffindor's new Head of House!" The cheer rising from the Gryffindor table was riotous, and Ginny suspected her nephews had had

something to do with that. She was certain her face was the color of ripe tomatoes as she rose slightly from her seat and waved in appreciation. "With that," McGonagall said, "let us begin, everyone!" The tables erupted with plates and plates of succulent roasts, hams, puddings and desserts. At the staff table, the wine decanters were refilled. A pot of tea appeared before the Headmistress, reminding Ginny that she had the ability to request a beverage of her choosing. "Butterbeer, please," she whispered. Instantly, a frosty mug of butterbeer appeared in front of her, causing her to smile with glee. "Wine not to your liking?" Harry said, startling her yet again with his closeness. "No," she said, "just had enough for one evening." "Gin, I'm sorry for cutting you off just now," Harry said softly. "I just didn't think it was the time or place to get into a discussion about the past." He paused, placing a slice of roast onto his plate. "But, if you'd like to talk about it sometime, just let me know. I think we've got to at some point." With that, he turned back to start eating, leaving Ginny more than a little bewildered. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Despite the fact he would have twenty-five students in his classroom in less than five minutes, Harry stared, lost in thought, out of his office window. He was prepared his lesson plans were downstairs on his desk, the homework assignments for each of his classes were written on the chalkboard and, if the weather held through the week, they would have a perfect night for their first practicum. Furthermore, this wouldn't be the first time he'd been responsible for a class he'd taught several undergraduate classes while studying for his advanced degrees at Oxford. His preoccupation had nothing to do with the impending arrival of the first years it had everything to do with Ginny. They'd begun a tenuous dance around the realm of friendship over the two weeks they had both been in the castle. Many times he'd wondered if he should broach the subject of his leaving as he'd said the night before,

they'd have to do it at some point. Yet something had held him back from the brink of total honesty. At first, he was afraid that bringing up the subject would make their fragile dtente fracture. As the days went by, however, he'd known the real reason for his reticence. It only became clearer the longer he spent time back in the castle. It was the memories. Harry had lost count of the number of times he'd experienced momentary feelings of panic similar to what he'd felt that first day when he'd come to accept his teaching position. He'd been walking along the seventh-floor corridor and had come across Barnabas the Barmy's tapestry, which marked the entrance to the Room of Requirement. He must have been thinking about his days in the DA Room, because a door appeared and slowly creaked open, revealing the room as it had been set up for their clandestine classes. He'd smiled as he remembered watching his DA students' faces as they'd cast the Patronus Charm; of Neville's vast improvement; of his first, bumbling kiss with Cho under the mistletoe. Then the memories had changed, turned darker, as he and Dumbledore had used the room to work on their search through the spellbooks they'd discovered. They'd needed absolute secrecy and the room had obliged, sealing them in for hours at a time and resisting any attempts from the outside to disturb them. It was here that they'd discovered Benevolentia Convince Maleficus, the spell they would later use against Voldemort. It was here that they'd had learned what had to happen for the spell to be effective that one of them would have to be sacrificed. For weeks, the two heirs practiced the spell and incantations that had to be said in precise order, with Dumbledore taking the lead, having assumed the role of the one to be sacrificed. But Harry'd had other ideas: it was with this spell he'd hoped he would find his redemption. For it was also here, in the months preceding Voldemort's demise, that he'd returned, heart-sick yet exuberant, after he'd murdered Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. And the horror, both of the act and of the exuberant joy of having committed it, would never leave him. Only his death could expiate that guilt and Dumbledore had taken that road from him. Shaken, he hung his head, thinking of all that he'd felt for Ginny the night before. He had no business thinking of her as anything more than a friend,

not after what he'd done that night at Malfoy Manor. Even if there weren't the specter of a competitor for her affections, his actions left him stained; unredeemable. The door to Harry's classroom slammed as it was flung open, bringing the laughter of his first class in from the outer hallway. He flinched, raising shaky hands to rub over his face, damp with sweat. His stomach lurched, not from nerves, but from horror over what he'd done that night so long ago. He poured himself a glass of water, willing his stomach to calm itself. This was not the time to rehash the past. He had a class to teach. 10: The Letter Chapter 10 The Letter "You imbecile!" Draco snapped, his rage beyond measure. "How could you forget something sosobasic?" Marcus Flint stood in front of him, the only hint of his nervousness being the sheen of sweat which graced his upper lip, glistening in the candlelight. "We could hear people approaching the cottage. We had to Apparate or risk being discovered. Besides," Flint said, directing a disapproving glance at Zabini and Goyle, "cleaning up after these buffoons was not a part of the job description when I signed onto this little project of yours, Malfoy." Draco's fingers tightened on his wand oh, how he itched to silence Flint once and for all. Flint had been angling for a position higher in the chain of command, so Draco had given him the task to make their presence known in eastern England. Well, their presence was known, all right. Flint had failed miserably, and his failure could result in the ruination of all of his plans. He rose to his feet and stood within a hair's breadth of Flint. "Cleaning up was precisely what you were responsible to do on this job!" Draco spat. "I remember our conversation distinctly, Marcus. Your role was to insure that you obtained the information we were seeking, to eliminate the witnesses and cleanse the scene of any evidence. Not only did you fail to find out the nature of the charm work the girl was working on, you turned the place into a slaughterhouse, after you'd assaulted the two of them in every way known to humankind! To top it off, you didn't complete

the Cleansing charms, so who know what the three of you left behind for the MLES to find!" "We know she was working on something for the Department of Mysteries," Flint said urgently. Draco could smell the fear coming off of Flint in waves. He raised his wand such a waste, but necessary, "Ava.." "Wait!" Flint said, dropping to his knees, his hands covering his head and neck. "We also found some correspondence." Draco paused. Perhaps he wasn't so useless after all. "What did you say?" "We found letters, Draco! Correspondence in which she was communicating with someone outside of the university." Flint's voice broke, and Draco was glad to know his arrogance had broken. Muffled as it was, Flint's voice was clear enough to discern the importance of what he had to say. "She was writing to Virginia Weasley, at Hogwarts!" Draco smiled. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Two weeks after the start of term, Harry stood on the pitch. His flight robes flapped lightly against his legs in the crisp, autumn breeze as he watched the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor first-years practice their flying. He smiled some of his fondest memories of his early days at Hogwarts centred around this pitch and his first few flights on a broom. He was filled with pride as he watched his students, paying three of them particular attention. Aidan Moran and Michael Troy from Gryffindor flew as though they had been born on broomsticks. Their fathers, both members of the Irish team Harry had seen at the World Cup the summer before his fourth year, had apparently passed their abilities down to their children. Harry had been pleased to hear that the first-year ban on Quidditch team membership had been abolished four years before, meaning it would be likely that Moran and Troy would make their house reserve team, at the very least, when they attended tryouts the next day. Harry turned his gaze to the tiny figure of Ming Chang as she zipped between two of her classmates. Of all of his students, Harry was staggered

at her exceptional abilities the girl was a natural and had the makings of a Seeker who might, given the necessary support of her team, bring Ravenclaw its first real shot at the Quidditch Cup. He'd received a letter from Cho the other day, asking how Ming was doing. Or, at least, that was the pretense of the letter. She'd felt it necessary to inform Harry of her estrangement from Michael, including a subtle reference to her visit to London the week before the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw game. She looked forward' to seeing him there. "Subtle as a heart attack," Harry muttered to himself, a frown crossing his brow. The truth was he had no interest in getting into the middle of Cho and Michael's failing marriage. Despite the number of years that had passed, Harry was well aware that his fleeting relationship with Cho had been just that: fleeting, and best left back in that moment of time. Besides, all he had to do was look to his left at mealtime to see who he was meant to be with. It hadn't been easy, distancing himself from Ginny since they were seated so close at meals, but he'd had no choice. The memories that had scored his mind the first day of class were enough to remind him of why he couldn't have her, her involvement with Ollivander notwithstanding. He couldn't bear to have her look upon him with revulsion, knowing she'd given herself to a murderer. But shouldn't she have the choice in knowing? an internal voice asked him. He quelled that thought with an abrupt shake of his head. A bell tolled in the distance, signaling the end of classes for the day and snapping his attention back to his students. He pointed his wand at his throat, muttering "Sonorus." "All right, you lot!" he shouted, hands on his hips and peering up into the late-afternoon sky. "Time to pack it in for the day! Return your brooms to the cupboard and head back to the castle for dinner!" One by one, the children descended from the heavens, occasionally stumbling as they landed. He paused, frowning at a pair of Gryffindors

horseplaying. "Wilson! Carlin! Come down here at once!" Wilson had attempted a Wronsky Feint (and not doing a half bad job of it). He muttered "Quietus" to bring his voice back to normal volume and tucked his wand into his pocket. He turned to help Robin Finnegan (Seamus' baby sister) back to her feet when he heard a shout from above. He glanced up, only to be horror-struck by the figure of Ming Chang falling head-first towards the earth. Carlin's face was ghostly white, the tip of Ming's broom snagged in the tail of Wilson's broom. Harry broke into a run, not pausing to think, and flung out his hand. "Wingardium Leviosa!" he cried. Light streaked from his outstretched hand towards the child a second before she struck the ground. Her fall slowed slightly, but the little girl still landed with a sickening thud ten feet from Harry's outstretched arms. "Ming? Merlin's beard," he said as he pulled off his flight robe and knelt to pick her up in his arms, wrapping her shivering form in its warmth. She was sobbing quietly, a rapidly-swelling lump forming on her forehead. "We're heading for the hospital wing. Now." His gaze slashed forward to face the two young boys, who had reached the ground and stood stock-still in front of him. "Thirty points each," he said, his voice like ice, "for your dangerous antics, and you will serve detention with me in the team changing rooms tonight!" He was pleased to see the looks of horror on their faces. "If you want to bring that down to 20 points each, you will stay here and make certain all of the broomsticks are back in the cupboard where they belong!" Satisfied he'd made his point, he turned on his heel and strode up to the castle, fear beginning to prickle the back of his neck. She had to be OK. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny glanced up from the chart she held. Poppy had asked her to keep watch over the hospital wing for the afternoon while the Hogwarts nurse went into Hogsmeade for supplies. She'd eagerly accepted, looking forward to the chance to don her medi-witch whites again. However, as much she may have missed her work at St. Mungo's, she wouldn't give up her role as a teacher for all of the gold in Gringotts. Teaching was even more than she'd hoped it would be. She'd gotten shivers the first time she'd seen the look of discovery on the first years' faces as their Charm work became more fluid. Her thoughts wandered to her second-year

Gryffindor/Slytherin class. The twins, geniuses when it came to Charm work, were holy terrors, their antics oftentimes leaving her breathless. The day they'd "accidentally" levitated Richard Flint had required every ounce of restraint she'd been able to muster to keep from laughing. She'd done her duty, of course: house points and detention with Madam Pince sorting a new shipment of books. Since that day, however, she'd noticed a malevolent glare coming from Flint, which had reminded her all too clearly of his father Marcus' own stares. Her thoughts turned to her first-year Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw class. Although she had had classes with Ravenclaws before, never had she paused to watch them as she did now. An industrious, brilliant group of students, it was evident that they had chosen to take their coursework very seriously, none more so than little Ming Chang. It was hard not to like the little girl, whose face was often so serious she reminded Ginny of Hermione. Ginny knew she shouldn't let her feelings for Cho color her opinion of Ming the little girl's demeanor was one that made it impossible to find fault. The fact that she resembled Cho so much was the problem, for when thoughts strayed to Cho, they invariably lead to Harry. Ginny had seen Harry with one of his flight classes earlier in the week. The uninhibited joy he'd shown on his face was so vivid it was almost painful to see. It was clear that his students adored him not only from what she'd seen but from what she'd heard in the hallways and in Gryffindor Tower. Even the twins, never particularly interested in Astronomy before, were suddenly all atwitter about it. She'd also noticed the distance he'd established between them since the feast and had been incredulous when she considered how hurt she'd felt by its presence. Only a few months ago, she hadn't cared to see him ever again in life. Now, in the present light of day, his cryptic comments from the night of the feast had left her puzzled and wondering where things were going, and his present silence only gave her more cause to wonder. Despite her best intentions, she'd only been able to scratch together one completely amicable letter to Christopher, but that was the problem: he was supposed to be her beau, not her brother. She'd finally decided that if she could just see Christopher again she would feel better, so she'd closed the letter asking him to meet her at Hogwarts for the Halloween Dance. It had been three days, and she'd yet to hear back from him.

She turned to see Peri saunter into the hospital wing, a jaunty swing to his step. He leapt up onto the window closest to where Ginny was standing and sat down, his great golden eyes blinking with contentment: the setting sun was on his back. He'd adjusted to living at Hogwarts with ease, spending hours in Gryffindor Tower demanding attention from anyone he could find or wandering the hallways so much that his presence around the school was taken for granted. He was a regular attendee at meals in the Great Hall and had shown an irritating affection for Harry, although she suspected that that had something to do with the treats Harry would sneak to the cat when he thought she wasn't looking. Suddenly, the image of Harry sneaking her treats snaked unbidden across her mind. "Professor Weasley? Are you all right?" Abigail Nadeau, her young patient said, snapping Ginny from her thoughts. "You look a little flushed." "Thank you, Miss Nadeau, I'm fine," Ginny said, blinking to clear the images of a long-fingered hand feeding her a grape. She returned her attention to the chart for a moment, then pinned her gaze onto her patient. "Now, I don't think I want to know what you were doing to wind up in this state," she said, eyeing the horns that had sprouted on her forehead, "but I think we can take care of them for you." Just as she raised her wand, she heard the sound of brisk footsteps striking the flagstone floor outside of the wing. "Madam Pomfrey!" Ginny knew that voice. She turned to see Harry stride around the corner, carrying Ming Chang in his arms. "What happened?" Ginny said, tucking her wand in her apron and hastily pulling screens around Abigail Nadeau's bed. "Place her over here, Harry." She gestured to a bed closest to the desk. "A couple of Gryffindors were horsing around as we were winding things up for the day and there was an accident," he said, gently laying Ming onto the bed and turning to face Ginny, concern evident in every line of his body. "I managed to slow her descent a bit, but she's got a rather nasty-looking lump on her forehead."

"Did she lose consciousness?" Ginny said, gently touching Ming's forehead. The little girl flinched, tears swimming in her dark eyes. "No, Professor Weasley," she said, her voice sounding slightly desperate, "I've been awake the entire time! Really, I'm OK!" "That's not entirely true, Miss Chang," Harry said, arching his brow at the girl and straightening his waistcoat. He turned again to face Ginny. "I don't think she lost complete consciousness, but she's been well and truly dazed since we left the pitch." Ginny, who'd been noticing the sprinkling of crisp black hairs on his forearms arms that had held Ming as though she'd weighed no more than a feather forced her attention back up to his face. What did he say? Oh, yesdazed. Right. "Let me take a peek and we'll see what's what," she said hoarsely, taking her wand from her pocket. Soft, muted lights gently surrounded Ming's head as she began her Charm work. Ginny glanced up at Harry, who appeared to be transfixed by the lights. "Diagnosing charms, perfectly painless." She spoke several more quick spells and then tucked her wand back into her pocket. "Miss Chang, you're going to be just fine. You've a slight concussion, but it's nothing that a little bed rest won't cure." "But I'm to try out for the house team tomorrow," Ming cried. "How long do I have to stay in bed?" "Just overnight, starting now," Ginny said, picking up her wand and pointing towards the wardrobe in the corner. She Summoned a nightdress from one of the shelves. It landed with a soft flumph onto the bed. "Now, you get changed and into bed. I'll send word to your Head of House, letting her know what happened, and will have some dinner sent up from the kitchens. You're going to be fine," she added, giving Ming's arm a little squeeze as she stood to close the screens. "Professor Potter?" Ming said. Ginny blinked she'd almost forgotten he was standing next to her, he was so quiet. Almost. "Yes, Ming," he said, leaning down and smiling, "what can I do for you?"

"Please don't tell my Auntie Cho," Ming said, her voice trembling. "She's expecting to see me on the pitch for the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw game. I mean, I'm not sure I'll even make the house team, but I don't want to disappoint her either. Please?" Ginny stood stock-still as the silence in the room turned deafening. "Erall right, Ming," Harry said, a note of hesitation in his voice. "I promise. Now, you get some rest so we can see you flying tomorrow afternoon, OK?" "OK," she said with a smile, picking up the nightdress. Ginny twitched the screens closed and slowly turned to face Harry. "Cho's coming to the match?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry looked at her for several moments, trying to figure out if he was embarrassed or irritated by Ginny's tone. He chose the latter. "Yes, apparently, she is, Ginny. I suggest we take this discussion elsewhere," he added, jerking his head towards the screens surrounding Ming's bed. Ginny nodded curtly and led the way towards a room tucked around the corner from the desk. It smelled faintly of rubbing alcohol and essence of murtlap the supply cupboard. He turned to face her, realizing too late that the quarters were quite close. The main benefit of this, of course, was that he could now smell Ginny's perfume instead of the murtlap. Which also meant that he was standing far too close to her. "You've been writing to Cho?" Ginny said, snapping him from his thoughts. "She's written me," Harry said, crossing his arms. "Mostly to ask about Ming. She mentioned that she would be in London for a conference the weekend of the match. That's it." "So you aren't aware of her split with Michael, then," Ginny said, leaning back against the shelf and mirroring his stance. "Letters from Parvati are ever so enlightening, you see."

Damn. "By the tinge of color rising on your cheeks, Harry, I'd say she had more to say in her letter than you'd implied just now." "Ginny, what is the point of dragging all of this out?" Harry said, his voice louder than he'd intended. "Yes, she mentioned it, but as far as I'm concerned she could have been talking about the weather in Shanghai. I'm not interested in all that's going on in her personal life. Besides, what does it matter to you? Even if I was interested in Cho again, and I'm not, why shouldn't I move on with my life? You've managed to do so with Ollivander, isn't that right? That is, if the kiss he gave you the night of the fight at the Three Broomsticks was any indication." He paused, gratified to see Ginny looking more than a little embarrassed. "That wasit wasn't" she stammered, her face turning a deep red. "It was pretty clear to me, Ginny," Harry added. "Yes, we've been seeing one another," Ginny said, looking up into his eyes, "but we're notI mean that is..." "Spare me the details," he said, cutting her off. "The bottom line is I'm not interested in Cho, despite anything you may have heard from your sources'. And unless you give me a good reason why I should continue my abstinence while you gallivant around with other men, I think we can consider this discussion closed." "I have NOT been gallivanting' around, Mr. Potter!" she said, her voice rising loud enough to echo into the hallway. Harry winced and, raising his wand, muttered a Silencing spell onto the doorway. "For your information, I was horrified at the little display Christopher felt he had to show." Harry arched a brow. "Is that a fact? Funny, you didn't appear to be struggling very much." He'd thought those words many times since the fight, but had never intended them to come out of his mouth. Now, horrified at himself, he reached up to catch her by the wrist before her hand could connect with his cheek. He was blushing, filled with shame that he could have said such a thing aloud.

"Gin, I'm sorry," he said, mortified. "You see? It's best if we just keep our distance from one another." Silence fell upon the little room for several moments. He closed his eyes, wishing he could be anywhere else in the world rather than in a secluded little supply cupboard, a foot between him and the woman he wanted beyond reason but could never have. Suddenly, he felt her hand on his forearm. "Harry? Why have you been avoiding me the last two weeks?" "I would think the events of the last few moments would make that abundantly clear, Gin," he said, wearily rubbing his forehead. A crease had formed between Ginny's eyebrows. She rubbed it with the fingertips of her right hand, expelling a sigh of frustration. "Honestly, Harry," she said, "I've been confused since we spoke the night of the feast. You told me that if I wanted to talk about what happened, I should ask. But you've been so cold and distant these past two weeks I'm left to wonder if you meant what you said. I think there are things between us that need to be resolved before either of us can move on. So I'm asking you now: can we talk about what happened?" Harry swallowed. To talk about what had happened the night he'd left meant she would have to know everything. Suddenly weary of carrying the weight of knowing for all these years, he nodded. "Not here, and not now," he said. "The Astronomy Tower, this evening around nine o'clock? I need to supervise a detention with the Gryffindors responsible for Ming's accident right after dinner, but we should be finished by then." A blush spread across Ginny's cheeks and turned her ears pink. "Harry," she said hesitantly, "is it really appropriate..." The sight of her blush made him shiver with memories. He knew she was thinking about their night in the Tower. He nodded. "It's more than appropriate, Gin," he said wistfully. "Thanks for taking such good care of Ming. I'll see you at nine." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ron looked up from his desk, the latest file of the Neo-Death Eater Murders case before him. He'd been at MLES headquarters for close to 48 hours with very little sleep and not much to show for it.

Samantha Bales and Jaime Camisa de Roja were the latest victims of the Neo-Death Eaters. Their bodies were discovered in a cottage in St. Margaret's at Cliffe, a quaint village on the British side of the Eurotunnel. They'd been horribly abused and the Dark Mark had been burned into their flesh as it had been for Lindsay Garthwaite. News of the murders was slated to break in the evening edition of The Daily Prophet, a fact concerning Ron a great deal: Samantha and Jaime had been students with Ginny in France, friends she'd brought home to the Burrow for the holidays one year. Ron remembered Samantha as a bright, cheerful young woman with a ready laugh and a gift at Potions, while Jaime whose expertise had fallen in the area of Transfiguration had been brash and fiery, getting along famously with the twins. The evidence left at the scene had been miniscule at best: curse signatures had been modified to diminish faster than usual, effectively masking any possible way to trace the casters. There was, however, one bright spot in the investigation: DNA had been found and was at New Scotland Yard's lab for analysis. Ron smiled to himself: if the analysis brokered any usable results, it would be ironic that this new batch of Death Eaters would be caught through the use of Muggle technology. Steering his thoughts back to his sister, he picked up parchment and quill and started a letter: Dear Ginny, I hope all is going well with you at Hogwarts. I'm afraid I am the bearer of very bad news and I wanted to make sure you received this before you had the chance to see tonight's Prophet. Samantha and Jaime were murdered by the Neo-Death Eaters last night. I remember how close you were to the two of them and I knew you'd want to hear the news from me rather than the media. He paused, chewing on the end of his quill. He wished she had someone she could talk to to turn to after she'd read the letter. Involuntarily, he thought of Harry and set the quill down, rubbing his eyes. In the weeks following the fight at the Three Broomsticks, he'd done a great deal of thinking about what both Sirius and his father had said. He could hear the reason behind both comments, but how did one look past the pain of a broken heart to see reason?

His father's voice echoed in his mind: We don't know what his intentions are, whether he plans on trying to contact us again, anythingThe things done in one's youth can be reckless and unthinking of the long term consequences' Sirius' voice followed: He's coming home, in bits and piecesI'd hate for you to miss out on an opportunity for a full accounting, and I believe in my heart that he's beginning to recognize that he owes you all just that.' He blinked, disturbed to find a hint of dampness in his eyes that had nothing to do with his exhaustion. What he needed to do was focus on the present: Ginny was going to need someone near her after she heard the news. He picked up his quill and continued: I wish I could be there with you, Gin, but with Hermione so close to her due date I need to stay close by. I'm copying this letter to the twins so they'll be apprised of the situation. If you can't go to either of them, I'm certain Harry would be willing to listen. Yes, I said Harry. He and I need to talk, to come to terms with what happened. He was my closest friend once, and I trusted him implicitly. Even if that trust has been shaken because of the events of the past nine years, I think you and I both know that he is someone we can depend on in a crisis. You'll be seeing me as soon as we are able to bring the newest Weasley home. Please take care of yourself, and know that our thoughts are with you. I am sorry to bring you such bad news. Love, Ron He read the letter through twice and, before he could change his mind, sealed it in a bright blue envelope marked for urgent delivery. Rising from his desk, he walked over to one of the office mail owls, a handsome barn owl named Zeus. "Please take this to my sister at Hogwarts," he said, tying the letter securely to Zeus' leg. "And hurry." The owl gave Ron a soft hoot and sped out the window. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mid-way through dinner, Ginny glanced over at Harry. His expression was remote, even more so than had been for the past fortnight. She was

beginning to wish she hadn't pressed him for a response this evening. Yes, she wanted to know what had happened needed to know what had happened. But as time ticked by, she realized that she might not like what she would hear. Why? a sneering voice asked from behind the barrier in her mind that housed her memories of Harry. Because you'll discover that your anger and hatred of him all these years was unwarranted? That your own doubts about the decision you made that night may come back to haunt you? "No," she said to herself. She jumped when she felt his hand on her arm. "Did you say something, Ginny?" "It was nothing, really," she said, her eyes flicking guiltily up into his own before returning to her plate of steak and kidney pie. "I've got to go to the changing rooms to prepare for the detention I ordered for Wilson and Carlin." He paused, his eyes meeting hers once again. "We're still on for nine o'clock?" Here's your chance, the voice taunted, your chance to run away again. "Yes, nine o'clock is fine, Harry," Ginny said, louder than she'd intended, for Professor Sprout leaned over to arch an eyebrow at Harry's back. "I'll meet you in the Tower." He nodded and, placing his napkin next to his wine goblet, rose from the table and left. She watched as he walked along the Gryffindor table, stopping when he reached the two boys. After speaking briefly to them, he continued out of the Great Hall. "Ginny," Professor Sprout said, rising from her chair and sitting in Harry's abandoned space, "did you hear that Harry performed wandless magic today on the pitch?" Ginny blinked. "Nono I hadn't heard that. Are you certain?" "Why yes," Sprout said, a conspiratorial gleam lighting her eye, "it was something Dumbledore could do without thinking. Makes me wonder if there wasn't more to the rumours about the final fight with Voldemort."

"What do you mean?" "That Dumbledore transferred his powers to Harry before he was killed," Sprout added with a sad half-smile. "We've always known Harry was a powerful wizard, but if he's capable of wandless magic strong enough to slow a falling student, I'd say he's got powers he's only beginning to tap into." Ginny nodded absentmindedly as she reached for her goblet, taking a sip of fine wine. She remembered the first day she'd seen Harry back here at Hogwarts, and how he'd managed to free himself from the Petrificus Totalis charm she'd leveled at his back. She then remembered something from Mrs. McGregor's report to the MLES the night of the fight: "until the black-haired one raised his hand, pointed it in the direction of the red-haired one and said "Petrificus Totalis!" Heath?Heath? Do you remember seeing a wand at all? Oh, never mind. Anyhow, when the blackhaired one shouted the spell, the red-haired one flew over into the bar" "Excuse me, Pomona," Ginny said, rising from her seat, "I need to check in on some patients in the hospital wing before I start marking yesterday's quizzes." Once in the hallway, she leaned against the door. There was no need to check on Ming and Abigail she'd left them both eating dinner and chatting. She'd simply had to get out of there to think. Surely Harry must have known the news of his using wandless magic in class would spread like wildfire throughout the school. She was certain he would want to keep skills of that magnitude to himself. The only thing that could have caused him to openly perform wandless magic was Ming's fall to earth. Almost like clockwork, Cho's face danced on the outskirts of her mind. Angry with herself, she pushed away from the door and began climbing the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower. MingChothis all had to stop. He would have done that for any of his students, Ginny thought to herself, not just Cho's little cousin. She entered her rooms and closed the door, finding Peri grooming himself on the window sill. She pointed her wand at the fireplace. "Incendio!" she said and, with a sigh, kicked off her slippers, Summoned a pitcher of water

over to her desk and sat down. She poured herself a glass and settled in to read the end-of-the-week reports that she'd received from the Gryffindor prefects. Nothing out of the ordinary, for which she was grateful. She spent the next hour marking the quizzes she'd handed out earlier in the week, only disturbed once by Peri's planting himself atop the pile of unmarked quizzes. Her thoughts kept drifting towards her coming appointment in the Astronomy Tower. She'd avoided that part of the castle since she'd arrived at Hogwarts, haunted by the memories it held. Perhaps it was the wine from dinnerperhaps it was the firelightGinny found herself staring out of the window, into the distance at the top of a tower she'd come to know well, late in her sixth year of school Creeping out of the portrait hole clad in her nightdress and Harry's invisibility cloak, Ginny prowled the corridors for hours, searching for Harry and certain that she would be caught out of bounds. The skirmishes that had begun to scar the country had resulted in strict curfew rules for all students. Since the Head Girl and Boy both happened to live in Gryffindor Tower, sneaking out was often impossible. Unless someone spiked both of their bottles of butterbeer with a sleeping draught. In the hour that she'd been out, she'd almost completed her search of the castle with the exception of one tower: the Astronomy Tower. In recent months, Harry's fascination with astronomy had reached a near-fever pitch. Ron often said Harry was beginning to sound like Firenze, with his muttered comments about the positioning of the moon and Mars' brightness. "One look in there and I'll head back to the common room to wait for him to get back," Ginny said to herself. "Then I'll let him have it." She approached the Tower's darkened entryway, a chill snaking down her spine. It was very quiet almost too quiet. She pushed open the door and, as her eyes adjusted to the light, made out the silhouette of Harry. She tried to close the door as quietly as possible, but the faintest *click* made him jump and spin, pointing his wand directly at her heart. "Harry! It's me!" she said, shrugging off the cloak. "Where have you been? I've been worried sick about you!"

"I'm fine," Harry said curtly, setting his wand onto the window sill and returning to stare out into the night. "You weren't at dinner tonight, you've been distant for days," Ginny said. " Please tell me what's wrong." She laid her hand on his shoulder, only to have him flinch at her touch and move towards the stairwell leading to the top of the tower. "I said I'm fine," Harry said, his voice rising. "I need to be by myself, Gin, please just leave me alone." "You're always alone, Harry," she said walking over to stand in front of him, her hands on her hips, a challenge in her eyes. "You need to know you can depend on the rest of us. That you can depend on me. I want to help you." "LEAVE ME ALONE!" Harry roared, the sound of his voice echoing sickeningly against the stone walls. "Please just leave me alone!" He ran up the stairs and, with the slam of the door, cut himself off from the room below. Tears of hurt and anger formed quickly in Ginny's eyes she and Harry had been through so much, had gotten so close, that this felt like a betrayal of all that had come before. The edge of the Weasley temper started to stain the edge of her vision with a tinge of red. She stormed up the stairs after him. He stood, his upper body suddenly bare, his back towards the stairwell door. "No, I will NOT leave you alone, Harry!" Ginny shouted at him. As he turned to face her, the vision she encountered chilled her very soul. His face was white, his great, green eyes haunted by something terrible. He held his shirt, rubbing frantically at his hands with an almost-crazed intensity. For the first time that night, she felt fear. "Merlin, Harry, what happened?" "I can't get them clean," he croaked. "Oh god, what have I done? What have I done?!" Swallowing her fear, she walked up to him, taking his frantic hands in hers. "Harry, darling, pleaseyou're frightening me." She held tight despite his desperate tugs to free himself. "Your hands are clean, I don't understand." "Gin, please let go," he cried, struggling against her grip. "I can't touch younever again."

While their innocent kisses had blossomed to innocent touches, they'd both decided to wait until they were finished with school before making love. With the war against Voldemort escalating so quickly, they'd struggled to keep their vow. So far, they'd been successful. She jerked him forward, clasping his hands against her body. Frightened brown eyes gazed into tormented green ones. She brought his clenched fists towards her lips, brushing them with a kiss. She pressed loving kisses against the bruised knuckles, his thumb, his wrist. He ceased his struggles for freedom. Taking that as his consent, she separated his hands, placing them around her waist while she raised up on tip-toe to settle a kiss against the hollow of his throat. An unnatural stillness fell over them as they stood on the Tower, only to be broken by the throbbing of Harry's pulse against her lips. She felt his hands tighten on her waist and raised her eyes to meet his. Black with desire (and something else she couldn't fathom) they pierced into hers, willing her to comply. She stared into them for a long moment, realizing, understanding what he was asking of her, before reaching up to claim his lips with hers. teeth against her neckthe cool hardness of stone against her bare backblood racing out of controlhis hand on her breastwarmth, incredible warmthelectricity racing through herhis kiss, low against her stomacha moment of pain...blazing- white lightpleasure, unholy pleasure Ginny gasped, her face flushed, body tight and aching with a need so strong it frightened her. She glanced around her room, suddenly embarrassed by her ruminations, followed by a sadness more profound than she'd thought possible. An owl flew into her window, a bright blue envelope tied to his leg. Distracted, she removed the letter and began to read. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The changing room looked as though a herd of Hippogriffs had been set loose to rampage for hours. Towels covered the floor, uniforms were scattered all over the showers, several Quaffles were deflated, three Bludgers pinged off the walls. Harry ducked as a Snitch zoomed past his

head before diving low to loop Dobby's right ear. Dobby shrieked and dove into the dirty laundry hamper, causing Harry to stifle a snort of laughter. "Trust me, Dobby," Harry said, dragging his fingers through his hair, "there's a method to my madness." "Butbut" Dobby spluttered. "Why would Harry Potter do this? After Dobby and Winky spent all afternoon tidying the uniforms and stacking the towels!" He hiccupped, his bottom lip quivering. "Dobby, I really appreciate your help," Harry said, clearing his throat, "but trust me! All will be set right by a quarter to nine. You have my word on it." He paused as Dobby stuck his head out to glare at him. "I promise. If it isn't, I'll clean up in here myself for a month." Dobby stared at Harry for several moments, finally nodding. "Harry Potter is good as his word. Dobby will trust him to see things through." Harry rolled his eyes as Dobby climbed out of the laundry hamper and wrung his tea cozy hat tightly in his hands. "It was just such ashock when Dobby came in here tonight, wanting to show Harry Potter how neat and tidy the changing room was for tomorrow's tryouts." "I understand, Dobby," Harry said apologetically. "I should have let you in on the secret. Now, if you don't mind, the young men scheduled for detention will be arriving any moment now." He gestured to the door. "I promise you and Winky come back in ninety minutes and see for yourselves." Dobby gave a sad little nod, and with a snap of his fingers, was gone. Harry blew out a breath one must tread lightly when dealing with sensitive House Elves and muttered a Cushioning Charm on the Bludgers and the Snitch. "No sense knocking the boys out," he said to himself as he surveyed the carnage. He walked over to the small office which sat outside the changing rooms to await the condemned. Five minutes later, Ian Wilson and Cyril Carlin walked around the corner, their feet dragging against the stone walkway. Harry couldn't catch what they were muttering, but chances were it had something to do with him. He straightened his waistcoat and cleared his throat to gain their attention. Both boys stopped stock-still in front of him.

"Gentlemen," Harry said, his eyes somber. "Good evening, Professor Potter," Carlin and Wilson chimed in unison. "You're here to serve detention for engaging in dangerous roughhousing this afternoon on the pitch," he said, clasping his hands behind his back. "Miss Chang, the young lady your antics caused to fall, is resting in the hospital wing with a concussion. Do you know what that is?" They shrugged. "A bruise to the brain. Concussions can be very dangerous. Headache, dizziness, personality changes, difficulty with memory. All of these things can happen when you have a concussion." He speared a glance at the boys, happy to see that they both looked green with fear. "Professor," Cyril stammered, "she's going to be all right, isn't she?" "Yes, she will," Harry said, noticing that each of the boys seemed to regain the use of their lungs. "However, there is a question as to whether she will be able to participate in Quidditch tryouts tomorrow. Now, before you say anything that you will regret, such as Bad luck, Ravenclaw' or better odds for Gryffindor' " both boys blushed, "I suggest we get started with your detention. Follow me." He turned and walked towards the entrance of the changing room, extending a hand to let them boys enter ahead of him. "Bloody hell," Ian said. Harry caught the nervous glance Cyril shot at Ian for swearing and stifled a chuckle. "Right," Harry said briskly rubbing his hands together and withdrawing his wand with a flourish, "I need these uniforms hung up in the four wardrobes over there." He pointed his wand at each. Sparks shot out of the end, striking the house shields on the doors of each. They sprang open, the empty hangers jangling merrily. "Next, I need all of these towels folded, using a tri-fold method, so that twelve towels will fit on each of these shelves." Another flash from his wand and the shelves jiggled. "Finally, I need all of these Quaffles filled with air, and the Bludgers and Snitches trapped and placed in their cases." The boys blinked at him and, with a sigh, withdrew their wands. "Without magic," Harry said crisply, Summoning their wands from their hands, a diabolical smile crossing his face.

Two hours later, Harry gathered the rolls of parchment he had spread before him. He'd heard the muttered curses and crashes which had come from within the changing room on a fairly regular basis, and was looking forward to seeing just what the boys had accomplished during their detention. He stood, collecting the purloined wands from the top drawer of the desk, and strode into the room. He was, in a word, pleased. While both boys looked sufficiently sweaty, rumpled, and grumpy, the room was immaculate. They'd obviously taken him very seriously: the towels were folded, as required, and stacked neatly on the appointed shelves; the uniforms hung on their hangers, looking freshly pressed and orderly; the Quaffles were re-inflated and the Bludgers encased in their straps. He nodded and turned to face his students. "Well, well, well," he said, taking their wands from his pocket. "You've done an excellent job, gentlemen. I believe you've also learned not to act so carelessly in class from now on, isn't that right?" They nodded. "I'm sorry," Harry said, cocking a hand against his ear, "I didn't quite catch that" "Yes, sir," Wilson and Carlin grumbled, fixing him with truculent glares. Harry snorted. "Oh, now, that's enough of that. You both know that behavior such as you displayed in class today would not escape a punishment of some sort." He arched a brow at them. "Would you have preferred a year-long ban from broomstick riding?" Both of the boys turned white. "I thought not. Now," he said, handing each boy his wand and narrowing his eyes, "I want your word that you will not endanger the lives of another student again. And at the beginning of our next class, you are both to apologize to Miss Chang for your behavior. Am I understood?" "Yes, sir," they said, this time sounding more sincere than their last assent. "Very well," Harry said, pointing his wand at the candelabra and dimming the candles, "off you go." They scampered as quickly as their feet could carry them. Harry performed a Shrinking Spell on the parchments, stuffing

them in his robe, and reached into the watch pocket of his waistcoat for his watch. "Quarter to nine," he said to himself. Taking a deep breath which did nothing to calm his jumping nerves, he headed towards the Astronomy Tower. He attempted to gather his thoughts as he walked, trying to formulate his words into a coherent and rational thread, to no avail. By the time he reached the door to the Tower, his stomach was irrevocably knotted. Reaching for the handle, he cocked his head towards the door. Someone was crying inside. Concerned, he opened the door. "Ginny?" 11: Revelations "Ginny?" Harry said, closing the door to the Astronomy Tower. He held onto the door latch and muttered a Locking Charm to ensure their privacy before walking further into the room, his eyes never leaving her silhouette. Her hands cradled her face as her body heaved with broken sobs. He hesitated given their history, he wasn't certain what to do, but the sound of her weeping felt like daggers through his heart. His mind flashed back to that night at The Burrow nine years ago, when similar sobs rang in his ears as he descended the stairs from her room, his trunk and all of his belongings shrunken and pocketed in his cloak, his heart numb from her rejection. Suddenly, fear for her family turned him cold what if something had happened to Ron? Hermione, so close to having her baby? He swallowed she'd come to him for a reason, and he needed to find out what that was. "Gin, what's wrong?" he said, a little louder this time, and was gratified when she started slightly she'd heard him. As he came toward her, he watched as she swung her long hair forward, sending a cascade over the shoulder closest to him. He smiled sadly she'd always hated the way she looked when she cried and would always hide behind the red fire of her hair. It had never mattered to Harry he'd found her beautiful regardless. Reaching her side, he touched her shoulder lightly. "Hashas something happened at home?" Bile rose in his throat as dread for her next words clenched his stomach.

When she shook her head, the relief was almost overwhelming. He closed his eyes to regain his bearings, only to be knocked sideways when she launched herself against his chest, her arms wrapped around his waist. Stunned, he wrapped his arms around her shoulders, his Quidditch reflexes keeping the two of them from toppling over onto the floor. His hands stood stiff and empty, uncertain of what to do. Comfort her, you great prat! his brain screamed at him. Hesitantly, his hands closed upon her, one at her waist, the other against the back of her head, stroking her hair as he uttered soothing nonsense words into her ear. Her sobs continued, unrestrained, and he could feel the heat of her tears seeping through the shoulder of his waistcoat to the linen of his shirt. He shifted his head slightly, to bring her closer to him, the fine, silken strands of her hair catching slightly in the shadow of his beard. He breathed in her perfume, the combination between it and her skin causing his lower body to tighten uncomfortably. God, don't let her notice. Harry lost track of how long they stood, wrapped in an embrace that was on the one hand filled with sadness, but on the other filled him with more joy than he'd known in many years. Her crying had ceased, to be replaced by an occasional sob or a shudder. After many minutes, Harry leaned back to catch her attention. She ducked her head, wiping at her eyes with her sleeves, only stopping when Harry moved his left hand from her waist and withdrew a handkerchief from his back pocket. "Here you go, Gin," he said softly. "Please tell me what happened." She mopped her eyes with his hankie, blew her nose and turned her face up to his. Tear-stained and blotchy, she is still the most beautiful woman I've ever known. "II got a letter," she said hoarsely, removing one of the hands she'd had tight around his waist and bringing it within his view. Crumpled in her hand was a piece of parchment. "Can I read it?" he asked gently, removing his hand from her hair and taking a step backwards. She nodded, handing it to him, her eyes seeking for a place to sit down.

"Let me," he said. Taking the letter and stuffing it into his pocket, he reached for her hand and walked her over to a bench near the window, easing her down onto the seat. He placed his hand against the stone wall behind her back. "Demulceo," he said, and the wall grew warm under his hand for a moment before it turned as soft as a goose-down pillow. He sat down next to her and, taking the letter from his pocket, started to read. He recognized Ron's handwriting and stopped midway though the letter, his eyes closing as he felt the start of tears prickle the back of his throat. He couldn't help but remember what it had been like to lose friends during the war, to see Charlie fall from the sky to his death. He turned to look at her, only to find her with her face cradled in her hands again, silently sobbing into the handkerchief he'd given her moments before. "Gin, I'm so sorry," he said softly, placing an arm around her shoulders and giving her a gentle squeeze. When she didn't speak, he continued reading the letter, blinking in surprise when he reached the part where Ron suggested she seek Harry out. A small bubble of hope lifted in his heart perhaps there was a road back towards Ron and the rest of the Weasleys, including the young woman he comforted now. He watched as her hands fell into her lap. "I received a note from Samantha just last week," Ginny said, her voice hoarse from crying. "She and Jaime had just become engaged. They were planning a wedding in Jaime's hometown in Spain." She turned to raise her tear-stained eyes to meet his. "They went to St. Margaret for a bit of a holiday to celebrate! Why? Why them?" Her eyes filled with fresh tears. "Why?" Her body seemed to sink in on itself as her weeping began anew. Harry drew her close once again, wrapping his arms around her tightly, tucking her head against his shoulder and unconsciously rocking her back and forth. Time held no meaning as they clung to one another. He craned his stiffening neck to glance out the window at the moon. He was shocked when he realized it had to be close to midnight. He turned to glance down at Ginny, who appeared to have fallen asleep. Sliding an arm under her legs, he rose to his feet and was unable to muffle the groan that crept past his lips carrying Ming earlier had taken more out of him than he'd realized. Ginny's head came away from his chest with a jolt. He looked down to see her staring up at him, her eyes slightly dazed and very confused.

"What time is it, Harry?" she said, rubbing her eyes as he set her down onto her feet. "Almost midnight," he said. "We need to get you back to Gryffindor Tower." "No!" she cried, "I'm all right," she said, pressing her hands against the small of her back and stretching like a cat. "I'd rather not be alone just yet. Can we stay here for a moment?" Harry nodded. "Can I get you something to drink? I'll get some water from my rooms." He turned, taking the stairs two at a time until he reached his rooms. He picked up the pitcher and two glasses and headed back downstairs to find Ginny standing close to one of the globes he'd inherited from Dumbledore. He handed her a glass and began to pour her some water. "Do you plan on attending" he said, breaking off before he could mention the funeral. Ginny's hand shook as she raised the glass up to her mouth to take a sip. "I need to contact Samantha's mother," Ginny said. "I want very much to be there if I can." "Is there anything I can do to help, Gin?" Harry said, setting his own glass down on the desk and taking her empty hand. "I'm nowhere near as good as you in Charms, but I'd do my best to cover for you while you're gone." She smiled sadly at him. "I think you'd blow up the room, Harry, but thank you." He shrugged. They stood quietly for several moments, sipping their water. Harry jumped when he felt her hand on his sleeve, and turned to face her. Her eyes were tired, but gazed steadily into his. He watched as thoughts chased through them, wondering where they would lead. "There is something you can do for me, though." "Anything, Gin," he said, laying a hand atop the one that clutched his forearm. "Tell me what happened that night nine years ago," she said soberly.

Harry looked at her, blinking with shock. Now? She still wanted to talk about what had happened nine years ago, after she'd received heartbreaking news only hours earlier? When he'd found her here in the state she was in, a part of him was glad to have been given a reprieve from sharing the secrets he'd kept from her for so long. "No," he said, taking a step back, running a hand through his hair and shaking his head. "No, Gin, the timing is all wrong." He turned as if to walk away, but felt her hand tug on his sleeve. "The timing is perfect, Harry." "Gin, you've just received terrible news," he said, jerking his sleeve out of her grasp and crossing his arms in front of him. "This just isn't the right time." "Life is too short," she said, reclaiming his arm, hard enough that he felt her fingertips dig into his bicep, "I need to know. Need to know before it's too late, before something else happens. We've got to resolve this. Now." He paused, looking into her eyes, eyes that had been filled with the tears of the grief-stricken only moments before, now filled with fire and clarity. As much as he fought it, he couldn't deny the logic of her argument. It rang true in his own heart, his own mind. To deny her this now would close the door to ever reconciling with her, be it for friendship or something more. He closed his eyes, one moment wishing that the earth could swallow him whole, the next wishing he could make the past nine years disappear so that he could be a carefree youth again. Carefree and loved. Defeated, he nodded. "All right, Gin," he said. "We could go up to my office I think we might be more comfortable there." She shook her head. "No, you were right about my needing to get back to Gryffindor. Let's go to my rooms there. No one will disturb us." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The walk to Gryffindor Tower was a wordless one, their footfalls on the floors of the stone hallways the only sounds to be heard. Ginny rubbed absently at the low throb that stubbornly sat above her left eye and quickened her pace she had an Anti-Inflammatory Draught in her Mediwitch Kit that would take care of it and the puffiness she could still feel

in her face. She knew she must look dreadful, after hours of crying. She glanced at Harry, whose face was shadowed and unreadable. She didn't know if she would ever be able to thank him for the support he was offering, for despite how he may have hurt her in the past, he had been there for her tonight, unconditionally. Her thoughts turned to her friends, choking back another sob. She remembered visiting with them this past summer, soon after she'd got the offer to teach at Hogwarts. She'd Apparated to Paris to spend the weekend with Sammie and Jaime to celebrate, drinking fine wine, eating wonderful food and sharing their dreams for the future. Jaime had confided in her that he intended to propose to Sammie on her birthday, and she'd barely been able to keep her excitement contained when she'd sent Sammie's birthday present and card just a week ago. One week of knowing they would share their lives together, Ginny thought sadly. Only one week. She mopped at her eyes again with the well-worn handkerchief Harry had given her, blinking when she caught a glimpse of one of the corners. His initials and the Potter family crest had been embroidered with deep green thread. Her eyes filled with more tears as she realized she was holding one of the handkerchiefs her mother had given him for his 17th birthday, well-worn and mended. As soon as they arrived at her rooms, Peri rose from the spot where he'd apparently been keeping watch for Ginny's return. As Ginny opened the door to enter, he offered a quiet meow of greeting and ran figure eights around Harry's legs before walking over to the hearthrug and staring into the dark fireplace. Harry followed her silently into the room, moving forward to stand at the mantle. Ginny was startled by his voice as she turned to close the door. "Shall I start a fire, Gin?" She nodded, walking over to the en suite to retrieve her Mediwitch Kit. She took a swallow of the bitter-tasting headache draught and wiped her mouth on her sleeve before whispering a quick glamour to take some of the redness out of her face and eyes, then returned to the main room. He'd started a cheerful fire in the fireplace, in front of which Peri walked back and forth, purring loudly and contentedly.

"Gin, I'm still not convinced this is the best idea," Harry said, uncertainty clearly readable in his eyes and in his tone. "You've been through so much, and what I have to tell you will, undoubtedly, bring up memories of things " "I know, Harry," she said, cutting him off with a look. "But I need to know." He sighed and walked over to her chest of drawers, reached for the pitcher of water it held and poured himself a glass. She watched as he drank deeply, the bobbing of his Adam's apple strangely hypnotic. He set the glass down and caught her eyes, the intensity of his gaze causing her to fidget. She walked over to the overstuffed armchair next to the fireplace, her fingers pleating the skirt of her gown as she settled within its comforting embrace. Peri hopped up onto the arm of the chair and cast a hard stare at Harry, who'd moved to stand next to the hearth. She heard Harry clear his throat. "Gin, you remember, back at the start of sixth year, when I started the evening classes with Dumbledore, yes?" She nodded. "I'd said they were advanced Defense classes or something of the like. Well, there was more to it than that." He paused for a moment, staring into the flames before taking another deep breath. "What is it, Harry? What happened?" "The summer before sixth year, Dumbledore wrote to me to inform me of something. A book had been found many years ago, dating back to the days of Merlin an ancient set of coordinating attacks using charms, curses and transfigurations were described which, if mastered, could result in ridding the world of an evil no one had seen since the days of Grindelwald. The attack would require two wizards to succeed, preferably two from the same lineage." He turned to face her, and Ginny was struck again by the intensity of his gaze. "He closed the letter with unexpected news that he and I were very, very distant cousins." "Cousins?" Ginny said, her eyes widening. "But he'd told you that you didn't have any blood relatives, other than the Dursleys!" "That was true, Gin," he said, "my only blood relative was my Aunt Petunia. Dumbledore's relation to me was far too distant to be considered for the blood shield." She watched as he ran his fingers through the white streak in

his hair. "Dumbledore and I were the Heirs of Godric Gryffindor. He on the maternal side, and I on the paternal side." Ginny sat in stunned silence as what Harry had said sank in. Harry was the Heir of Gryffindor. "All through sixth year and well into seventh, we trained, mostly in the Room of Requirement, but sometimes in his office. We couldn't tell anyone what it was we were working on because of the number of spies in the school." He stopped, a sad smile crossing his face. "Remember the time I was in the hospital wing over Halloween?" Ginny nodded. "Madam Pomfrey was treating you for burns. You said you'd had an accident with Advanced Potions." "It was an injury from training," Harry said, shaking his head. "We were working on some blocking charms and I misjudged one." "You were in the hospital wing for a week!" Ginny said, outraged. "You wouldn't let anyone see you!" "It was because I'd wound up with no hair, Gin," he said, arching a brow at her. "It took four days just to coax the follicles to function again, and then the hair came in white. We had to get it back to normal no one could know what we were working on. No one. You have no idea how hard it was for me not to tell you, though." His eyes burned. "We shared everything then." "Or so I thought," she said frowning. So many secrets. He flinched. "I'm sorry, Gin. I hated keeping this from you, I really did. But at Christmas, I told Dumbledore that I had to tell you. That I loved you and that you needed to know," Harry said urgently, coming over to kneel at her feet. "I wanted to ask you to marry me Christmas Day." If she'd been shocked by news of his tie to Godric Gryffindor, the news of Harry's plans brought fresh tears to her eyes. She raised the handkerchief up, cradling her face yet again. "Oh Gin, please don't cry," he said, and she felt his hands on her knees. "I knew the war was coming, I knew that there was a chance that I might not

come through it alive, but if I did, I knew the first thing I wanted was for you and me to be a family." She raised her head to meet his gaze. "Why didn't you ask me, Harry?" she said through her tears. "Because Dumbledore said that it would have placed you in mortal danger. You and your entire family." "But we hadn't kept our relationship a secret to that point, Harry. What would it matter if we were to have been engaged? Wouldn't my family and I have been in danger simply because we loved you?" "That was what I told Dumbledore," he said, misery clearly evident in his voice. "But because of the nature of the magic we were practicing, it changed everything. He said that making a vow to be husband and wife, especially for you and I because of our bond from the Chamber, would have elevated our relationship to a magical level, Gin. My mother's bond with me saved my life. To form a bond with you on that level" he shuddered. "If something were to happen to you, to anyone in your family, it would have killed me. Not only figuratively, but literally." He rose to his feet, and Ginny followed his progress towards the window overlooking the lake with her eyes. She thought of how she would have been elated to accept his proposal, to know that she would be his, to bear his children and to share his life forever. How thrilled her mother and father would have been, to have Harry as an official part of the family. How her life would have been so very different than it was now. She blew her nose and, whispering another glamour, rose to join him at the window. She placed her hand between his shoulder blades, and felt him start, then stiffen under her touch. "Please," she said, "go on, Harry. Don't stop now." He took a deep breath and turned to face her. "The night you found me in the Astronomy Tower." She nodded, blushing, memories of that night still fresh in her mind from her earlier reminiscence. "It was the night before the final battle in Hogsmeade." She looked up into his eyes and saw that he was remembering, too.

"That was the greatest moment of my life, Gin." He paused, his hand coming up to brush a stray tear from her cheek. "But it didn't absolve me of what I had done earlier." "Harry," she said, her hands closing on his forearms, "what on earth did you do?" His gaze was bleak, his voice toneless. "I murdered Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy that night." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ As he'd spoken, Harry had felt as though he were falling a great distance, into the darkest of pits. Ginny stood before him, the heat of her hands burning through the linen of his shirtsleeves as she stared up into his face. Her face had lost all color and the freckles which danced across her nose appeared almost black in the light of the room. Harry's vision tunneled, a shudder running through his body. He turned back to the window, desperately needing air. He took several deep breaths, panic choking him. Frantic thoughts of casting a Memory Charm raced through his mind, to bring them back to the moment before he crossed the threshold of her rooms. "What do you mean, you murdered the Malfoys?" he heard her say from what felt like a great distance. He turned to see her standing behind him, her arms wrapped around her waist. "I killed Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy at Malfoy Manor that night," he said, unconsciously rubbing at his hands. "When? How did you" Ginny said, utter confusion clearly expressed in her eyes. "Two days before the Battle of Hogsmeade, the Death Eaters had planned an attack at a residence near the border," he said, leaning against the windowsill. "The Order had received a tip and were waiting for them. One of the people captured was Pettigrew." "I know! I remember hearing that he'd been captured, Harry," she said impatiently, "but what does that have to do with this ridiculous claim of yours?"

"Please, Gin, give me a minute," Harry said, scrubbing his face with his hands. "After Pettigrew was captured, there was chaos. He'd intended to take his own life, and Remus had found him just before he had the chance to do so." "I know," Ginny said angrily. "Bill told me all about it the summer after the war. They used Veritaserum on him and were able to get wind of the final plans for Hogwarts!" "He also let another piece of information slip!" Harry said, exasperation causing his voice to echo into the night. He stopped, walking over to sit on the bench at the end of her bed, his shoulders slumped. "Ginny, please, just let me get through this once." He raised his head to find her standing not more than two feet away from him. "Please?" She nodded sharply and returned to the chair next to the fireplace. Harry rose from his seat, walked back over to the dresser and poured himself another glass of water. Returning to his seat, he fixed her with a stare and began. "It was the night before the final battle of Hogsmeade. Dumbledore and I left the castle to meet the Order at Headquarters via Portkeys. We were to be there as witnesses to Pettigrew's formal confession, to be documented in Dumbledore's Pensieve. We weren't going to allow him the opportunity to deny clearing Sirius' name again. It went smoother than any of us had expected and we were finished in about an hour. "As I was leaving, he called out to me. A part of me wanted to ignore him, to simply walk away. I wish I had. If I had, things would have been so different" "But not necessarily better, Harry," she said quietly, causing him to start. He blinked, cleared the memory from his mind and looked over at Ginny to find her staring at her hands. Her face was unreadable, lit only by the firelight. She turned to look at him, her eyes sad and tired. "I'm sorry, Harry. Go on." He took a sip of water and forced himself back. "I went back into the room, at which point he started begging for my forgiveness. For his weakness to Voldemort and the other Death Eaters, for betraying my parents. I told him I wasn't interested in hearing all of this again, but he said he had to repay me. Repay me for the life debt he owed me from the confrontation in the

Shrieking Shack at the end of my third year." Harry shuddered it was as though he was back in the room at Grimmald Place, seeing Pettigrew's unshaven face glisten with sweat, his body reeking with fear. "He told me that he knew where Nagini was." "Nagini?" Ginny said. "Who is Nagini?" "Was Nagini," Harry said. "Remember the snake that attacked your father?" He watched as Ginny nodded, looking bewildered. "That was Nagini. She was Voldemort's snake that traveled with him wherever he went." He saw Ginny shudder, and he was certain she was remembering her time under Tom Riddle's control during her first year. "During our research, one of the things Dumbledore and I studied was the spell Voldemort used to rise to power after the third task for the Triwizard Cup. We learned that while he would return to a corporeal existence, he would require the venom of this snake to maintain his stamina. Without his twice-daily feedings, he would be weakened. If we were to destroy Nagini, it would make Voldemort easier to destroy using conventional magic." "But why not use the spells you and Dumbledore discovered in the books?" Ginny said. "The spells in the books would have destroyed Voldemort," he said, sadly, "but it would have also destroyed one of us as well." He paused, watching as his words sank in, watching her face shift as comprehension dawned. "That's why the spells required two from the same lineage once the sequence of spells commenced, one of us would have to die." He rose to his feet, standing in front of the fire, his arms braced on the mantelpiece. He willed his stomach to calm itself only a little more to tell. Taking a deep breath he turned to face her. "Nagini was being housed at Malfoy Manor, in the room they had under their living room. I remember hearing Lucius Malfoy mention it at Borgin and Burkes the summer before my second year. I knew, if I could get into the manor, I would be able to destroy the snake." "How did you get there?" Ginny said, her voice wooden, her eyes never leaving his.

"I Apparated." At her look of shock, he nodded. "I'd been Apparating ever since I turned 17 another one of my secrets. First, I returned to the castle with Dumbledore and went to my room in Gryffindor. Once there, I took my map, performed a Disillusionment Charm to hide, and headed towards the entrance to the Honeydukes tunnel to Hogsmeade. As soon as I got outside, I Apparated to Nottingham, where Malfoy and his family lived. "Finding their home wasn't difficult, and the wards they'd set up were laughable. I Stunned the house-elves that attempted to stop me as I entered the home, casting Silencing Charms on my shoes so that I could walk through the place undetected." He turned from her, stalking over to the window to stare out at the lake. "I was thinking this is too easy, something's not right'. I walked into the living room, then Lucius appeared from around a bookcase and wefought." Harry remembered the cascade of jinxes and curses the two of them had flung at one another, remembered dodging Avada Kedavra twice. The jeering taunts, how Lucius had said he looked forward to bringing Harry to Voldemort as some kind of prize. Jets of purple flame and red lights had sailed through the air. Harry shook his head, realizing that Ginny couldn't read his mind. "I'm sorry. The details of the fight aren't important. What is important is that as we were fighting, Narcissa Malfoy and Nagini had made their way out of the passageway and were standing between the two of us. I did what I could using Parseltongue and defensive jinxes, but she was cornering me." The air was getting thick again as he remembered the smell of fear coming off of Narcissa Malfoy in waves. Fear and fury. "I threw a Stupefying Charm at Narcissa and she felt directly in Nagini's path. The snake struck her in the neck as she fell." "Oh, god," Ginny said, her eyes filled with tears. "Narcissa's blood was everywhere" Harry said, shuddering. "You remember, when your father was attacked, how his wounds wouldn't heal? It was the same for Narcissa. Lucius struck out against Nagini, out of his mind, striking her with the Killing Curse and not thinking of the consequences of his actions. The snake fell limp in the middle of the floor. As Narcissa lay dying, Lucius turned to me." He paused, feeling Ginny's hand between his shoulder blades.

"He forgot about his wand and just grabbed me by the throat, screaming his wife's name over and over again. We foughtMerlin, did we fight. His hands were closing off my airway, the world was going black around me. I brought my hands up to push against his chest, trying to leverage myself away from him. The last thing I heard him say was that when Voldemort heard about his snake, that he would be killed. Killing me was the only thing that would save him from certain destruction." He felt a chill race through his body as the memories assailed him. "I thought it, Gin. I thought the words." "What words, Harry?" she said, coming around to face him. "Avada" he said, miserably. "All I did was think the words, and suddenly, green light flew out of my hands and into his chest. His face froze, in a look of absolute surprise, and then he crumpled to the ground." His head swam with visions of Lucius Malfoy's shocked face as he slid to the floor, Narcissa's blood running crimson over the highly polished white marble. He shuddered, his body feeling like ice as bile rose up his throat to escape his mouth. His vision started to tunnel again and he glimpsed Ginny tucking herself under his right arm to support him. The panic gripped him so tightly he barely registered her helping him into the armchair by the fire, feeling her place her wand tip to his head. Slowly, the roaring in his ears dissipated, the queasiness leaving his body as he heard her crooning gentle, soothing words into his ear. Warmth infused him, leaving him slightly groggy and complacent. He opened his eyes to find Ginny kneeling in front of him, her hand running circles around one of his knees, the tip of her wand still pressed against his temple. "What happened?" he said, his voice sounding distant. "You had what the Muggles would call a panic attack, Harry," she said softly, removing her wand and tucking it into her sleeve. "Have you ever had one before?" "Never" he said, still feeling out of breath, "never that bad. Usually I can manage the nausea, but tonight" He tasted the sourness of vomit in his mouth and felt weary to his soul.

"Harry," Ginny said, quietly, pressing her hand against his leg. "Who knows about all of this?" He shuddered. "At the time, only Dumbledore knew. His Legilimency was so precise it was impossible to keep anything from him. The day after it happened, the Order reported what had happened at Malfoy Manor to him, including the death of Nagini. While I tried to put on a brave face about it, Dumbledore saw straight through it. When" he stopped, taking a deep breath, "when they told him that Lucius had the imprints of two hands on his chest, I think that confirmed in his mind that I'd been involved." "Why? Because you'd used wandless magic with him before?" "Exactly. It wasn't something we wanted to reveal to anyone unless it was absolutely necessary." Harry rose to his feet, slowly making his way to the window. The air was fresh, cleansing as he breathed deeply. "After the members of the Order left the castle, he asked me if things had changed between the two of us. It was then I knew" He turned to find Ginny standing directly behind him, confusion in her eyes. "He knew aboutwhat happened between us in the Tower. He never asked me straight out what had happened, but he knew that our bond was greater than before and, as such, placed both you and me in greater danger." He watched as her cheeks flamed with embarrassment and raised his hands to cup them. "You and I spoke words of devotion that night and sealed them with an act of love. I wouldn't have been able to bear it if anything had happened to you, Ginny." He brushed a tear away from her cheek, then turned to stare out of the window. "Harry, why didn't you tell me about this sooner?" she cried "You were acting in self-defense! You didn't know that you were capable of casting a Killing Curse through wandless magic! You can't blame yourself!" "I can and do, Gin," Harry said, turning to face her. "I cast an Unforgivable Curse. I know that there are people out there who covered up the truth about what happened that night because I was The Famous Harry Potter', and needed to be protected to fight Voldemort. If I had been any other person, justice would have been served, not secrets kept." He stalked over to the chair by the fireplace, sinking into its embrace and covered his face with his hands. He was tired beyond exhaustion. He raised his head to find Ginny

kneeling in front of him, her eyes huge with confusion and questions. More questions. "Gin, it's very, very late and we're both barely conscious right now. I know you've got more questions, but I can'tnot right now." He rose to his feet, feeling slightly shaky but better than he had felt moments before. "I would ask that you keep what I told you to yourself right now." He saw her open her mouth to object and laid a finger against her lips. "Sirius and Remus are the only ones who know about this and I need to let them know I've told you as well. We've managed to keep the wandless magic out of the press for all these years, but my stunt today out on the pitch is bound to cause rumors to spread. I will promise you this: I will talk to Ron. Very soon." He paused, cradling her cheek in his hand. "You look about as done in as I feel, Gin. Try to get some rest tonight." Brushing a kiss across her cheek, he turned on his heel and left her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny woke late, seeing the sun high in the sky through her window. Her eyes felt gritty and tender as she lay in bed, reliving the moments from the night before. Her heart ached for Sammie and Jaime, and she felt fresh tears fill her eyes. However, Harry's revelations dominated her thoughts and filled her mind with sadness beyond grief at the inexplicable deaths of her friends. All these years, she thought, thinking himself a murderer, his hands turned into a weapon. Oh, how she'd loved his hands, one moment tender, the next strong and rough. She'd remembered hearing the news of the Malfoys' deaths the morning after it had happened, remembered noticing Draco's empty seat at the Slytherin table. Remembered seeing Harry, pale and unseeing, so different than he had been up on the Astronomy Tower. Little did she know that so much would change within the next few hours. The Battle of Hogsmeade. The Dark Mark had hovered over countless cottages. Ginny shivered, recalling the screams, the flames and the utter helplessness she had felt as she had walked amidst the rubble. Those who had come to recover the dead and wounded had been horror-struck by the degree of savagery leveled on a village known for friendship and camaraderie. Thankfully, many of the villagers had been able to escape to the Hogwarts grounds through the tunnel

under the Shrieking Shack, which had been brought crashing down just as the last of the survivors scrambled through with nothing more than the clothes on their backs. Amongst the injured were Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan and Hermione, all three of whom had been helping to guide the villagers to the escape tunnel when they were caught by Death Eaters. Sirius managed to drag their still bodies through the tunnel with seconds to spare, but the subsequent explosion had severely injured his eyes. The three teens and Sirius had been taken to the hospital wing immediately, but there was little to be done for Dean. Seamus and Hermione had remained in a coma and Sirius had been, for all intents and purposes, blinded. Ron, who'd assisted his brothers Fred and George with the rigging of the explosives, had been inconsolable, and had spent most of his days and nights by Hermione's side. Hours later, Charlie fell from the sky. Dean died from his injuries three days afterward. Tears fell from Ginny's eyes, falling into her pillow. So many people gone. So many lives changed forever. She rose from her bed and padded into the en suite to prepare for the day. An hour later, she sat at her desk, re-reading the first of the two letters she'd written: Dear Mrs. Bales, I was shocked and saddened to learn of Sammie's senseless murder. I am making arrangements to take some time away from Hogwarts so I can attend the services. Please let me know if there is anything I can do. Yours, Ginny As she scanned the second, more tears filled her eyes. Sealing both letters, she grabbed her cloak and headed towards the Owlery. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Christopher sat in the office of Ollivander's, going through the books. Sales had been a bit sluggish during the summer; however, the fall was shaping up to be a good season overall. As he crunched the numbers, a movement to his right caught his eye, and he gazed at a smiling Ginny Weasley, waving from inside a picture frame. This past spring, they'd been walking through Kensington Gardens and had come upon a little cottage near Lancaster

Gate. She'd been charmed by the little cottage which, despite the fact that it sat on the other side of the hedgerow from the busy London street, appeared to be out in the middle of the country. Captivated by her excitement, he'd snapped a wizarding photograph of her as she stood next to the cottage gate, laughing into the lens. They'd been so happy then. At least, he'd thought they'd been. Her family had begun to warm to his attentions, although his relationship with Mrs. Weasley was more distant than he would have liked. Since his conversation with Ginny the night before she left for school, he understood why. Harry Potter had meant more to her family than he'd originally thought. Christopher remembered seeing photographs of Potter on the mantle at The Burrow and had seen his hand on the clock in the kitchen. However, it wasn't until he'd spent several hours at the Daily Prophet's office in their archives that he learned how closely tied they'd been. If Christopher had to hazard a guess, it must have been a foregone conclusion that Harry and Ginny would marry once they finished school. And now he was back. The night of the fight, Christopher had taken a few moments to observe Potter from a distance and, more disturbingly, Ginny's reaction to his nearness. Despite the bitterness she'd had in her tone when she'd told him about their relationship, he had been able to sense the intimacy that had existed between the two of them. Of course, he hadn't helped matters with that kiss. The jealousy he'd felt when he'd seen the two of them together was beyond anything he'd experienced. He'd never been much of a ladies' man during his days at Hogwarts or afterwards in fact, Ginny was the first woman he'd ever had a serious relationship with. He'd fallen in love with her the first day they'd met in his shop. She was everything he could ever want in a partner: beautiful, intelligent, witty, nurturing and he intended on making his intentions known to her on Halloween. He'd received her letter from Hogwarts in September, his plans for the Halloween Dance forming almost immediately. He'd looked at premises in Hogsmeade to set up a small shop with rooms above for living quarters, and had taken the ring his grandfather had given to his grandmother from his vault at Gringotts. If she said yes, they could marry by Christmastime. He

smiled, closing his eyes as he pictured her face as he imagined it would be after receiving his proposal. A tapping at the window shook him from his thoughts. Christopher opened the window and a tawny owl flew into the room, a letter tied to its leg. He recognized Ginny's handwriting at once and smiled as he removed the letter and gave the owl a treat before it sped out the window. He settled back in his chair to read. Dear Christopher, I am leaving Hogwarts to attend the funeral of my friend, Sammie, but will return in time for Halloween. Please let me know if you are planning to come for the dance by return owl we need to talk about us. Ginny 12: Resolutions I am the resurrection and the life, saith the Lord; He that believeth in Me, though he were dead, yet shall he live; And whosoever liveth and believeth in Me shall never die. Ginny stood motionless as the vicar droned the opening words for Sammie's funeral. The coffin lay within a few feet of her, its shining cherrywood surface now covered with a deep purple pall as prescribed by the Church of England. The sound of weeping surrounded her, yet she remained stoic Sammie's mother needed her to be strong. Sammie's murder had struck hard at the heart of the Bales family, all of whom were relieved to have seen Ginny on their doorstep a week ago. The sadness that had permeated the Bales home in the days preceding the funeral was smothering in its weight. Neighbors had streamed in and out of the house, bringing covered dish after covered dish until the icebox was overflowing. The sheer number of sympathy cards that had arrived by owl and Muggle post had been overwhelming, and Ginny had gladly offered to assist Mrs. Bales and her only remaining daughter, Crista, in sorting them for personal replies once the funeral had passed. Ginny had also been able to help Mrs. Bales when the MLES officers led by her brother Ron had arrived with additional questions. When the officers had finished with the family, Ron had pulled Ginny aside for a private word.

It was the only time she had allowed herself to drop her guard, to stand supported in her brother's embrace. "Gin, I'm so sorry," Ron said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I'm so glad you're here, Ron," Ginny said, muffled against his broad chest. "It's been horrible. Simply horrible." "Well, we're making a little headway, but it's been near impossible given the lack of evidence," he said, holding her at arm's length, his expression more serious than she'd ever seen him before. "But we'll find whoever is doing this, Gin. I promise." She nodded. "How is Hermione?" He smiled for the first time that day. "She's fine, although she keeps muttering something about looking like a Hildieburg or something like that." Ginny snorted, shaking her head. "She means the Hindenburg, Ron a giant airship from the early part of the 20th Century. You really should have taken Muggle Studies." He winked. "I know it's the Hindenburg, Gin I just wanted to see you smile. Anyhow, little Matty can't wait to meet his new brother or sister and the mediwitch said we've only a few more days to wait perhaps All Saints' Day." "That's wonderful news, Ron," Ginny said, feeling a spark of happiness for the first time in days. Then, after a pause, she plunged ahead. "I've a little news of my own." "Really?" Ron said, arching a brow. "Tell me something to do with Christopher, perhaps?" She blinked. "Umno, actually. With Harry." She could feel Ron starting to close himself off and placed her hand on his forearm. "Ron, you encouraged me to talk to him about Sammie, remember?" There was an uncomfortable silence until Ron nodded sharply. "Yes, I did, didn't I?"

Ginny nodded. "I have to thank you for that, Ron. We shared a long talk the night I received your letter." She paused, making certain that she had his full attention. "He told me what happened nine years ago." Ron's face paled. "You mean he told you why he left?" "Well, not in so many words, but he told me what happened the night before the Battle of Hogsmeade," she said, choosing her words carefully he didn't need to know about what had happened between her and Harry the night on the Astronomy Tower. "He wasn't the same after that night, Ron, you said it yourself. Anyway, he told me what happened and asked that I tell you that he intends on speaking with you about it soon." "How " Ron said, his voice rough, "how are you feeling about all of this, Gin? Are you ready to forgive him the last nine years?" She thought about Harry's fumbling attempts to scrub away the curse that had been flung from his hands the night on the tower; thought of how she'd wanted no, neededto be close to him again after Charlie's death and how he'd held himself at arm's length, distant and troubled. She remembered their final argument at Burrow, the desperation in his eyes. If she had known then what she knew now, would her decision have been different? "I'm not saying I am, Ron" she said frowning pensively. "I'm still a bit confused and I know we still need to talk about it further, but it was a good first step. A much-needed first step. Just promise me that when you hear from him you'll listen this time." Ron was silent for several moments, pacing back and forth, his hands clasped behind his back. "Both Dad and Sirius said they thought he was trying to come home." He turned to face her, concern clearly etched on his face. "But I'll do as you ask and listen, Gin. I know it's what Mione wants, what Mum and Dad want. And it's what I want as well." Into Thy hands, O merciful Savior, we commend Thy servant Samantha. Ginny's thoughts snapped back to the present: the service would be ending soon.

Acknowledge, we humbly beseech Thee, a sheep of Thine own fold, a lamb of Thine own flock, a sinner of Thine own redeeming. Receive her into the arms of Thy mercy, into the blessed rest of everlasting peace, and into the glorious company of the saints in light. Amen. As the final hymn rang through the church, Ginny tucked an arm through Mrs. Bales' arm and gripped Crista's hand, turning to follow the coffin out of the building to the churchyard where Sammie would be laid to rest. Glancing up, Ginny felt a jolt of surprise as she saw Christopher standing towards the back of the church. The sadness of the day only intensified as she felt a sudden disappointment and realized she was wishing he'd been someone else. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Christopher fidgeted as he stood next to the fireplace in the Bales' parlour, watching as people gathered in twos and threes, their muted conversations creating a blanket of tense civility enough to make anyone nervous, let alone a man virtually unknown to the crowd gathered there, save for one person. That person was sitting next to Samantha's mother, her body language clearly reading stay away'. He'd given little thought to his decision to see Ginny at the funeral. All thought had focused upon the letter she'd sent him. He wasn't nave: he knew what usually happened when the words "we need to talk about us" were spoken within the context of a relationship. He was not prepared to go down without a fight, which was what had driven him to ask his uncle for a few days off so he could attend to the problem. He hadn't counted upon being as big as intrusion on this day as he managed to be. He'd been struck by how pale and thin she'd appeared to be at the church, although after the week she must have had he shouldn't have been surprised. The severe cut of her black robes and gown accented the whiteness of her skin and the autumnal tones in her hair. The shadows under her eyes were noticeable, even though he was certain she had used glamours to make them less conspicuous. She just doesn't take care of herself the way she should .The way I could.

He shook his head. Focusing on her frail appearance was causing him to forget about why he was here: re-establishing himself in her affections. He thought about the article about Potter that had run in the Daily Prophet at the beginning of the week. The writer had gone on and on about his rescue of a student using, if the rumors were true, wandless magic. The photograph that had run alongside the article had done nothing to ease Christopher's mind. Clearly taken early in September, it had showed a laughing Harry Potter amidst several of his flight students. Hands on his hips with robes flapping in the breeze, he'd looked larger than life or, at the very least, much more robust than the last time Christopher had seen him the night of the fight. He'd looked every bit the conquering hero who had defeated Voldemort nine years before, and the image had turned his heart cold. Someone like that was certain to turn heads, and apparently Ginny was no exception. The crowd began to thin as the afternoon stretched into the evening. As the vicar made his goodbyes to Mrs. Bales, Christopher noticed a movement out of the corner of his eye: Ginny was rising from the sofa and heading towards the kitchen. He caught his breath as their eyes met, only to feel the beginnings of fear when she looked away uncomfortably. He couldn't take this any more. He had to do something. Now. He set his cup of tea down on the mantle and followed her into the small room. "Ginny," he said to her back, "I had to come." He watched as she jumped in alarm, spinning to stare into his eyes. The circles were darker than they had appeared in the parlour. "Are you all right?" he asked, even more concerned than he had been. "I'm fine, Christopher. As fine as can be expected after the week I've had," Ginny said wearily, pressing a hand to her temple. She closed her eyes for a moment. "I am very sorry for your loss, Ginny," he said, taking a step towards her to reach for her free hand. She moved it quickly to toy with the collar of her gown and he felt a chill of dread. "I gather you received my letter," she said, her eyes remaining focused somewhere around the vicinity of his cravat, and his dread increased.

"Yes, I did, and you must have expected me to have some questions about it," he said, glancing over her shoulder towards the remaining group of mourners gathered in the parlour. "I realize the timing is dreadful, but we need to discuss this. Is there somewhere we can speak privately?" She was silent for several moments, then nodded. "I need to let Mrs. Bales know so she won't worry. Come with me." She turned and led the way towards a small room next to the kitchen. "Wait for me here I won't be long." With a flick of her wand she lit the fire in the hearth of what appeared to be a small study and left the room. Christopher looked at the books lining the walls and the computer sitting on the desk by the window. He noticed that many of the titles were Muggle books, confirming his suspicions that the Baleses were a Muggle family. He was flipping through an atlas when the door opened and Ginny walked in, carrying a small tea tray. He jumped to his feet to take the tray and set it on the desk. She sank into the chair at the desk with a sigh filled with sadness and poured two cups of tea, silently offering one of them to him. "I'd hoped to speak with you about this after I'd returned to Hogwarts for Halloween, Christopher," she said, looking into his eyes for one of the first times that afternoon. He flinched at the chill he saw in her eyes and felt a surge of anger. "I'm not stupid, Ginny I know what we need to talk about us' means. And as I said, I do realize this is an awful time to do it, but must we wait for another week or so before we address this?" "I'm very, very tired, Chris," she said, cradling her head in her hands, the tips of her fingers massaging her scalp through her hair. "But I love you, Ginny, and I want to be there for you," he said mortified by the desperation he heard in his own voice. She raised her head to look at him, and the pity he saw in them caused him to forge ahead. "Ginny, my uncle and I made some decisions about the business. I'd wanted to surprise you with this the night of the dance, but we're going to open a small shop in Hogsmeade in the spring." His voice broke off as he reached over to clasp one of her hands in his. "I wanted to propose to you on Halloween, Gin. I want to share my life with you. Please marry me."

He watched as tears filled her eyes, tears of despair, not of joy as he had hoped to see when he proposed. Her free hand came up to swipe at her cheeks. She tugged her other hand out of his grasp. "Chris, I'm sorry," she said, a sob finally escaping her throat. "I can't accept, not now." She covered her face, her shoulders shaking as she wept. "Why, Ginny?" he said hoarsely, his own throat feeling constricted, the blood roaring in his ears. No, he wasn't nave, but to have his deepest fears confirmed was even more staggering than he'd imagined. "We love one another, I know we do! Why would you want to throw that away?" "I need time, dammit!" she shouted, her eyes flashing through their tears. "I've just lost one of my best friends, Christopher! On top of that, I'm working on resolving " He narrowed his eyes. "Resolving what? Is it Potter? What has he done, Ginny?" Have you lost your mind, Ollivander? This isn't the way to get back into her good graces! The tiny voice of reason screamed in his brain in alarm, yet he found himself stumbling down a path towards failurethe thought of her with Potter was infuriating and heartbreaking, all at the same time. "He hasn't done anything," she said. He noticed that her hands were clenched into the folds of her skirt. "If you must know, he's been a perfect gentleman. But we've begun to talk about what happened between us, why he left, and it's made me" She stopped, her eyes cast towards the ceiling as though she were searching for something. "It's made me think about my own actions back then." "You were completely justified for ending things with him, Ginny," Christopher shouted angrily. "But I MAY NOT HAVE BEEN!" Ginny cried. Her words fell like blows, turning his blood to ice. He rose from his seat, moving to stand next to the mantle, turning his back to her. He stared blindly as his eyes filled with tears, his plans for the future slowly crumbling to dust in front of him. His hands gripped the marble mantle.

"Since the night I learned of Sammie's murder, everything has changed," she said from behind him, her voice sounding as though it were coming from far away. "Everything that I had built my anger and resentment upon was shattered." He felt her hand softly touch him between his shoulder blades; a touch that he would have given anything to have felt from her on any other day than this day. He turned to see her standing close behind him, her brown eyes searching his, filled with anguish. "Don't you see? It's not fair to you to pretend that things haven't changed between Harry and me, because they have." "Gin, please don't do this," Christopher said, his voice thick with despair, gathering her against his chest. "I'll wait for you, I will!" "Please Christopher, don't. Let me go!" He felt her twisting to free herself from his embrace, and clung tighter. "I don't know how long it will take me and you've been too good to me for me to string you along." He shook his head, again tightening his arms around her. "Ginny, please just listen to me. You're my life I can't imagine living it without you. I'll be good to you, please, just give me a chance" She shoved hard enough to make him stumble backwards, catching himself against the mantle. She stared at him, her eyes glistening with tears. "Please, Christopher, just leave." He stared at her, barely even aware of the throbbing in his shoulder from the impact against the mantel. The pain in his heart was too strong. "Ginny," he said, openly pleading. "Ginny, please..." "Just LEAVE!" she shouted, her voice breaking. He stood stock still for several moments, her rejection crushing the air from his lungs. As he turned to leave, the door to the room burst open, Mrs. Bales standing in the threshold. "You heard her, as did the rest of us," she said, holding out Christopher's cloak. "Leave my house." Shaken, Christopher reached for the garment. "I'm very sorry for your loss "

"Just go," she said. Defeated, he nodded and, with a final look at Ginny, donned his cloak and moved silently towards the front door. He was amazed to realize his body could still function, though his heart felt like it had been ripped from his chest. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Tom polished a glass and glanced at the clock over the fireplace. It was close to midnight. Business at the Leaky Cauldron had been unusually slow that night, with only three customers for dinner. He was thankful the stew they'd made would be just as good the following day, since they'd made gallons of the stuff. He glanced at the two customers at the bar and shook his head. Young Christopher Ollivander was sitting towards the end of the bar putting away quite a bit of Firewhisky, and had been for several hours. Tom had managed to get him to eat a little something midway through his binge, but was certain that young man would wake up with quite the head the next morning. "Another, Tom," Christopher slurred, slamming his glass upside down onto the counter. "Now, young Ollivander," Tom said, "I'm not so certain you need anymore." "I'll have another, Tom," Christopher said again, sending the glass sliding down the bar in Tom's direction with enough force to do some damage. "It's not every day that a man gets tossed over for another." Tom winced so that's what happened. He frowned as he tried to remember who it was that Ollivander had been tied up with as he reached for the bottle of Ogden's and poured another shot. Ah, yes Miss Ginny Weasley. He'd remembered seeing the two of them in the pub for lunch on several occasions, always thinking they made a handsome pair. He'd never known Christopher to be a drinking man. Ordinarily, he would come in for lunch and have a pint of ale or some cider at most. He shook his head and walked over to where Christopher was seated, setting the glass down in front of him. A wave of concern washing over him as he noted Christopher's eyes though bleary from drink, the heartbreak was there for the entire world to see.

"There now, lad," Tom said, placing a hand on Christopher's broad shoulder. "One more, and then I'm cutting you off." "I wanted to marry her, Tom," Christopher said, fuzzily. "I wanted to make a life for the two of us, to have children and grow old together. I was going to move the business up Hogsmeade, so she could keep teaching if she wanted to, for Merlin's sake. But not now," he said, grabbing the glass and taking a healthy swing from it. He coughed, blinking as his eyes watered. "Not nownot after bloody Potter's come back!" "Harry Potter?" Tom said, automatically, wincing as he caught the ferocious glare on Christopher's face. "'Course it is! The Great Harry Potter," Christopher spat, draining his glass and slamming it down onto the counter. "Savior of all of wizarding kind! He's up there," he said, swinging an arm towards the door, "up at Hogwarts, teaching with her. Weaseling his way back into her life. Taking advantage of her, just like he did when they were at school, but she doesn't see it." He shook his head, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Women are contrary creatures," a voice said. Tom glanced at his other customer, seated three stools down from where he stood across from Christopher. He looked a little familiar, but Tom had unsuccessfully wracked his brain for most of the evening to try to remember his name. Christopher wiped his eyes on his sleeve and jerked his head in the direction of the voice. "Hear, hear!" Tom watched as Christopher picked up his upside down glass and raised it in a toast. "Let me buy you a drink," the man said, rising from his stool to take the one next to Christopher. Christopher slid a watery glance towards Tom. "You heard him I'm cut off." "Tom, I'll be sure to get him home safe and sound," the man said coolly. He slid several golden Galleons across the bar. Tom's eyes widened that would go a ways to make up for the lack of business that evening. He glanced back at the man and, with a frown, pushed back all but one of the Galleons.

"I'll give him one more, but that's the limit," Tom said with some reluctance. He turned to pour half a glass of whiskey, topping it off with some water. He turned to face his customers, slid the glass in front of Christopher, and topped off his other customer's glass. "We bachelors had a good run on the lasses while Potter was out of the picture," the man said, sipping his glass of whiskey as Christopher tossed his down. "Now he's back, he's bound to turn their heads." "Ginny's different," Christopher said, slurring. "At least I thought she was different." He turned to face Tom, his eyes bloodshot from drink and tears. "She's so beautiful. Every time she would come into the shop, I'd have to stop and catch my breath, she was so beautiful. And she chose me," he said, thumping a hand to his chest. "The Minister of Magic's daughter chose me!" He leaned in close, and Tom had to force himself not to wince as the smell of Firewhisky tainted the air. "She was so tiny standing next to me, so delicate. I just wanted to take care of her forever. I was so sure that she'd marry me that I told her to store some of her things with me while she was at the school. Now, I've got all of these reminders" His head fell against the bar as he began to weep. Tom decided there would be no more Firewhisky for Christopher tonight. "OK, lad, let's get you a nice cuppa," he said, taking his wand from his apron and whisking away the barware. "I'm sorry," Christopher said, "I didn't mean to get so carried away. Please forgive me, Tom." Tom shook Christopher's outstretched hand with a smile and watched as he extended his hand towards the other customer. "Thank you for the drink, Mr" "Flint. Marcus Flint." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry frowned as he looked at charts from his 5th year Astronomy class. He'd asked them to chart the stars along the autumn ecliptic and was concerned by the results he'd received. He'd heard quite a bit of grumbling when he'd given the assignment the week before. However, a veiled comment about its inclusion on their O.W.L.s had brought the grumbling to a screeching halt. Now, as he looked at their charts, he had to wonder if he was missing something.

If they think they'll be able to pass their O.W.L.s with charts like these, they'd better think again. He was missing something. Or someone. Ginny had been gone for close to two weeks and he'd thought of her at least twenty times each day. He'd thought about writing her a note to see how she was doing, but he'd had a pretty good idea how she was. She'd been devastated that night, and he wasn't at all certain she would have found a note from him a comfort rather than a reminder of what had passed between them. He'd missed her sitting next to him for meals, missed hearing her laughter. Most of all, he'd missed the feel of her in his arms. The night before she'd left for her friend's funeral had reminded him of all that he had missed being away from the wizarding world for so long. He'd missed her softness and warmth, the smell of her hair, the way her body fit so perfectly against his. The need for her rose in him so quickly it took his breath away and he forced himself to think about something else. Anything else but her. He'd written two letters the day after Ginny left. The first had been to Sirius. Harry had known after he'd shared the details of the Malfoy's deaths with her that Sirius would need to know. The Order had moved mountains to keep the details of what had happened away from the press. Harry wouldn't have been surprised if some of what they'd done in order to protect him had been on the wrong side of legal. Sirius' letter had confirmed just that. Dear Harry, First, let me say that I am very glad you've chosen to confide in Ginny. Remembering how close the two of you once were (and, for that matter, how close you were to all of the Weasleys), your decision to share what happened that night at Malfoy Manor shows me that you are opening yourself to trust again, and that makes both Remus and I happier than you can know. I am, however, more concerned about the rumors of wandless magic up at Hogwarts. Harry, one of the reasons we have been able to keep what happened that night quiet is because you've been careful not to use your skills at wandless magic in public. We were able to pass off your use of it at the Three Broomsticks as ramblings from a slightly dotty old woman, but enough young people were present on the pitch to have noticed it. I don't want you to worry about it we'll do what we can to minimize the risk of confirmation,-- but you need to be careful. All right end of godfatherly advice

The second letter he'd written had been to Ron. In it, he'd detailed the events that had taken place at Malfoy Manor. He hadn't sent it, though it sat on the corner of his bedside table, the first thing he'd seen every morning since Ginny had left. The exercise of writing it had helped him to confront many of the feelings he'd had the night he'd shared what had happened with Ginny. The panic was still there, but not as vivid as before. And for the first time since it had happened, he'd found himself capable of focusing on details from the days that had followed, specifically Charlie's death and its impact on the Weasley family. For nine years I've felt like a monstrous failure to the Weasleys. Some Heir of Gryffindor I turned out to be. Harry remembered the look on Ginny's face after they'd laid Charlie to rest. She'd been devastated and had needed him so much. He knew now that he hadn't been capable of being as attentive to her as he should have been. After everything the Weasleys had done for him, he'd been unable to cope with their grief, just when they'd needed him the most. When he thought of Ron, he heart clenched even tighter he'd not only lost his brother, but Hermione had also been injured during the Battle of Hogsmeade, and left in a coma. Then, that last night at the Burrow, a month after the final battle. Hermione was still in hospital but had come out of her coma. Ron had returned from St. Mungo's, a smile on his face for the first time in weeks: Hermione had accepted his proposal. Harry remembered smiling, feeling genuinely happy for his two best friends, but felt the guilt of his failures gnawing at his insides. He'd noticed Ginny's furtive glances in his direction throughout dinner and knew what she'd wanted. Since the night on the Tower she'd hinted that she'd like to make love again. Harry had been able to avoid her, citing his concern for Sirius who, like Hermione, had been hospitalized at St. Mungo's after the Battle of Hogsmeade. However, with news of Ron and Hermione's engagement and with Sirius' eyesight recovering with each passing day, he'd run out of excuses. It wasn't that he didn't want her no, he wanted her with an intensity he hadn't known possible. He just couldn't bear to touch her with the hands of a murderer. They'd fought that night, and the overwhelming feeling of panic had risen within him so quickly that he'd spoken without thinking, begging her to

leave with him that night. And when she'd said no, he'd felt as though the world had fallen down around him. He turned and looked at the letter sitting on the nightstand. Fury the likes of which he hadn't felt in years rose within him as thoughts of his hesitancy chased one after another through his mind. I am the Heir of Gryffindor, he thought to himself. It's time I started acting like it. He rose from his desk and, snatching the letter from the table, strode over to Hedwig's perch where she was sleeping. "Hedwig," he said brusquely, tapping her on her foot. She opened one of her great golden eyes with a look that told him he'd better watch his tone. "I'm sorry to wake you, girl, but I need for you to take this to Ron Weasley. There's some pretty sensitive stuff inside so I want you to be fast and careful where you fly. Can you do that for me?" She opened her other eye and, with a stretch of her wings, snapped her beak at him and thrust out one of her legs. He tied it on, careful to double knot it. "I'm going to charm it so that only Ron can open this, just in case. Hold still now." He touched her leg and whispered "Cautus Tabellae". The parchment heated under his fingers for a second. He held out his arm so that she would step down onto it from her perch and walked over to the window. "Thank you, Hedwig. Be safe." She nipped at his finger affectionately and flew from the window into the early evening sky. He dug his pocket watch out of his waistcoat: he had an hour before the Halloween dinner and dance started. As he headed towards the en suite to get ready, he heard a knock on his office door. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny raised her hand to knock a second time as the door swung open. Although she was exhausted after her two weeks away and had had a pile of parchment a foot thick on her desk, she knew she needed to come here to see the person now standing in front of her. "Hello, Harry," she said quietly. She watched as surprise shimmered in the green eyes she'd known so well.

"Gin Ginny," he said, clearing his throat and sending a hand up to the shock of his hair, which was messier than she'd seen it since his return to their world. "You'reyou're back." "Apparently so," she said, feeling a smile tip the corner of her mouth. "May I come in?" "Yes! Yes, of course," Harry said, shaking his head and opening the door, he stood aside to let her pass. "I'm just a little surprised to see you here, Gin." He closed the door and turned to her, sweeping both of his hands around the back of his head to gather up his hair, tying it back with an elastic. Ginny found herself wishing he'd left it alone; it didn't make him feel as much of a stranger to her when it was left free. "When did you return?" "About an hour ago," she said, walking over towards the window. She turned to find his face in shadow, his eyes unreadable. "It's good to be back." "How are you doing, Gin?" he said softly. She felt a tinge of sadness rake across her heart. "I'll be all right with time, Harry, thank you for asking." She paused, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. He was tugging at his waistcoat, a gesture she'd noticed him doing of late. His eyes flickered across her face and stilled. "How have you been?" He shrugged slightly. "All right. School's been a bit of a nightmare, with preparation for the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s moving into high gear. Fleur had an incident with one of the Thestrals the other day which had Madam Pomfrey wishing you'd been here to help. Nothing serious," he added, "but enough for Fleur to ask for assistance when dealing with them in future. Hard to work with an animal you can't se" "I mean," Ginny said, moving to stand closer to him, "how are you, Harry? We'd talked about some serious things before I left. How are you doing?" A flush crossed his cheeks and he nodded. "I'm doing OK, Gin. I don't regret telling you about what happened that night at all." He pulled out a chair from one side of his desk and gestured for her to have a seat. Ginny crossed to the chair and sat, breathing in the smell of his sandalwood soap as

he passed to sit opposite of her. "As a matter of fact, I just sent off a letter to Ron before you came." "Really, Harry? That's wonderful," Ginny said, clasping her hands together in her lap. "I saw him while I was at Sammie's home. He was there as a part of the investigation." She noticed Harry pale slightly. "I told him that you and I had talked and that you might want to speak with him soon." She reached out her hand to rest on the one he had placed on the desk. "I wanted to tell you that I'm glad you shared what happened with me, Harry. It helped to answer many of the questions I had had about the days and weeks around the Final Battle. I'm still in the process of sorting things out, but I wanted you to know that I'm glad you shared with me." "Gin, I felt awful about dumping all of that onto you so soon after hearing about your friend," he said in a rush, his free hand coming up to cover hers. Ginny felt a shimmer of heat rush down her spine and gave herself a little shake before moving her hand back into her lap and standing up from her seat. "I hope you will be open to talking a bit more about it with me sometime, Harry," she said, careful to look him directly in his eyes as she spoke. Harry nodded, rising from his seat. "I'd like that very much, Ginny," he said softly. "Can you stay for a while? I've got some tea from earlier that I could heat up." "No, thank you. I need to get back and change," she said, walking over towards the door. "Big dinner and dance this evening." She watched his face close up as she spoke the words. His chin came up. "That's right," he said quietly. "I gather that your friend Christopher will be attending tonight's event?" "Actually, no," Ginny said as she opened the door, "he won't be coming this evening. I'll see you downstairs, Harry." She closed the door and walked swiftly down the hall. Even seeing him for that short a time had lifted her spirits more than she thought possible. She smiled she had just enough time to change. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As her footsteps receded down the hallway, Harry stood with his back against the door, blinking slowly as her last words sank in. Christopher isn't coming to the dance. Smiling broader than he'd smiled in months, he clenched his fist and jabbed it towards the ceiling. "Yes!" he said jubilantly. 13: Halloween A/N: For those of you who haven't read my fic-let Happy New Years yet, you might want to take a gander at it this chapter will make much more sense if you do. Ginny leaned against the back of her door, blowing out a breath which teased a strand of hair that had escaped her braid. "All right, Weasley," she muttered, "why on earth did you tell Harry that Christopher wasn't coming tonight?" Peri, who was curled into a loaf on top of her chest of drawers, opened one gleaming, golden eye and sniffed in what was unmistakably disbelief. He stretched and sat regally atop his perch, blinking at her with a look that could only be described as smug. "Oh, be quiet, you" she said with more heat than she'd intended. She walked over to her familiar and gave him a scratch behind his ears. Her eyes flicked over towards the pile of papers on her desk. She frowned: if she were being reasonable, she would skip the dinner and dance in the Great Hall this evening to catch up on all of the work she'd missed during her absence. If I were being reasonable, she thought to herself as she gazed at the gown hanging next to her wardrobe. But I'm not in the mood for 'reasonable' tonight. Shaking her head, she walked over to her desk and began sorting through the papers. Exams and project papers from her O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. students made up the majority of the materials, and she knew she wouldn't be able to concentrate on them that evening. She separated them into manageable piles (receiving no assistance from Peri, who leapt from clump to clump, attempting to draw her attention from the papers to himself) and sat down to

go through her mail. As she untied the ribbon holding the packet of envelopes together, she encountered a note from Christopher. "He must have sent this as soon as he'd received my letter," she said aloud, absentmindedly stroking Peri's head. Running a nail under the wax seal, she read his hastily-penned words: Dear Ginny, Received your letter and am very concerned. Will see you soon. Yours, Chris She slowly folded the letter, placing it in one of the drawers. Rising to her feet, she scooped Peri up into her arms and walked over to the window, stroking the cat's inky-black fur and smiling absently at his deep, rumbling purr. She watched the wind pull some of the last remaining autumn leaves from the trees and could not help but feel the sense of loss the season heralded. The scene with Christopher had been ugly. When she'd written Christopher the letter, she hadn't intended to break things off with him; she'd only wanted to talk with him about where things stood with her and Harry. And even though she might have entertained the notion of marriage to Christopher in the far corners of her mind, he had sealed their fate when he'd thrown himself at her feet. The truth of the matter was that she was thinking about Harry far too much to even consider marriage to someone else. Giving Peri one last squeeze, she set him down onto the windowsill and walked over to her wardrobe. She'd pulled out several dresses for consideration as soon as she'd arrived from the Baleses, but had returned to the emerald green velvet gown time and time again. It was one of the last she'd purchased during her shopping spree, a gown that had fit her like no other, and even Hermione had said, "It's fit for a queen, Gin, and it will be beautiful with your hair." She had suspected both her mother and her best friend might have had the tastes of someone else in mind. As she'd slipped it over her head those suspicions had been confirmed: it was just the sort of dress Harry would have lovedand she'd bought it anyway. So why wear it now? a voice whispered slyly in her ear.

She frowned. It was a special occasion gown, so it would be perfect for the ball. Yes. That's right. With a quick nod, she re-hung the dress and tucked it back into the wardrobe for safekeeping if she left it on the bed she was certain Peri would find it to be the perfect cushion for a nap and walked into the en suite for a bath. By the time she'd emerged from the steamy bath thirty minutes later, more doubts had begun to creep through her mind. As she'd soaked, she'd thought about the dress and what would have been its perfect accompaniment: the pendant Harry had given her the New Years before the final battle. The neckline of the gown seemed to have been made for it. Truth be told, if Harry hadn't left The Burrow as quickly as he did, he would have gotten it back after our row. Flung at his face, probably. Nibbling her bottom lip, she padded over to her trunk, unlatched the lid and removed a small, black-velvet jewelry box. One of the corners had been damaged when she'd thrown it against the door of her bedroom the night he'd left The Burrow. As she opened the box, the light from the fire struck the emerald stone nestled on the white satin lining, reminding her of the first time she'd seen the pendant. Her throat tightened with emotion: it was too soon to wear this again. He would read too much into it if she showed up in the Great Hall wearing it. Closing the lid, she placed the jewelry box upon the mantelpiece and returned to the en suite to finish dressing. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Christopher shook his head. He felt slightly disoriented and gave his eyes a hard blink as if to clear them before taking in his surroundings. He could have sworn he'd been in a light-filled room a moment earlier, rather than the dark and dank basement where he now found himself. He glanced down at the piece of parchment lying on the table in front of him. Funny, he thought, it looks like my handwriting. Curious, he began to read the letter. As the words penetrated the fog in his brain, reality slapped at him, bringing bile to his throat as he suddenly remembered where he was. Dear Uncle,

I'm sorry that I haven't returned to the shop yet. My meeting with Ginny was a disaster and I am afraid she's broken things off with me. I'm not giving up, but would like to take a little time from our shop in Diagon Alley to clear my head a bit. I would still like to proceed with the shop in Hogsmeade as we'd planned prior to my leaving it might just be the thing to occupy my time. I also think it will show her that I'm serious about my proposal. I've made arrangements for movers to pack up the things from my flat in London, and will focus attention on finalizing the lease arrangements for retail space with a loft in Hogsmeade as soon as possible. Please let me know if you have any questions and I hope that you understand, Uncle. I will be in touch soon. Yours sincerely, Chris He'd been unable to remember much of what had happened the night he'd drunk himself to oblivion at the Leaky Cauldron, waking several hours later with a raging hangover. Or worse, a voice hissed from the dark corners of his mind. He tried to rise from the chair but found himself bound with invisible restraints. Fear began to claw at his insides as he noticed two figures appearing from the shadows. "Is your memory coming back, Mr. Ollivander?" the blond man asked him, his voice silky, a sneer creasing what would have been a handsome face. "Where am I?" Christopher said, surprised at the rusty sound coming from his throat. He tugged at his arms again and was distressed to notice he was wearing next to nothing. "A little room my father used to call The Pit'," the man said, leaning on a silver-headed walking stick. "Draco Malfoy is the name." He pointed to the other man standing next to him. "You remember my associate? You met him at the Leaky Cauldron several nights ago Marcus Flint." As Flint gave him a mock salute, memory razor-sharp and mean flooded his brain: Flint toasting him at the pubFlint slinging an arm around his shoulder and leading him out the doora shock of white lightCruciatus, over and over againhis hand scribbling on parchment

He vomited. "Oh, for pity's sake, man," Flint said, sidestepping to avoid being splattered by the mess. Christopher raised his head only to feel it snap to the side from the force of the blow he received. "Thank you for writing the letter, Ollivander," Malfoy said, walking around the puddle of sick and leaning close to Christopher's left ear. "You must know by now that we've had you under several curses, the Imperius Curse being the most recent. It comes in handy from time to time. Of course, it helps to add an incentive," he added, placing a framed photograph of Ginny next to the letter and running a well-manicured finger along the top of the frame, tracing her cheek with a caress. Christopher felt tears of anger burning in his eyes as he strained against the restraints. "Now, don't hurt yourself," Malfoy said, picking the letter up off of the desk and turning towards the door. "We have much work to accomplish over the next month." "Never," Christopher shouted, tears choking him. "I believe Ollivander requires additionalpersuasion," Malfoy drawled as he opened the door. "I'll leave you to it, Mr. Flint." The door clicked shut as Christopher watch Flint approach, madness gleaming in his eyes. The blow came with lightening swiftness. His head filled with stars in a black sky, and Christopher knew no more. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ During the first days of the fall term following the final battle nine years before, the Hogwarts staff had decided they wanted to have a way of honoring Dumbledore for his courage and sacrifice to the school in particular and the wizarding world as a whole. McGonagall had mentioned Dumbledore's birthday October 31st as well as his penchant for sweets, and a tradition had been born the Hogwarts Halloween Dinner Dance. Students and alumni were welcome to attend, either as couples or singly, to enjoy wonderful food, drink, music and dance.

Harry smiled, watching the students streaming into the Great Hall. Many of them came, arms linked two by two, but he was pleased to see several clusters of five or six students clearly attending the event as a group. Everyone, dateless or no, was dressed to the nines, Harry included. On the rare occasion he'd found need for formal attire during his time at Oxford, Harry had grown accustomed to the tuxedo. As he'd dressed for the evening, he'd decided the jacket would have been too bulky (and somewhat redundant) under the formal set of robes he'd had made at Madam Malkins this summer. Fortunately, the raven-black fabric and black satin trim he'd chosen matched his tuxedo trousers perfectly, setting off the crispness of the tuxedo's white tie, shirt and waistcoat. He'd secured a Gryffindor house pin to his lapel, the polish on the red and gold bits gleaming in the candlelight. Finally, he'd ensnared the unruly mass of his hair ruthlessly back into a ponytail, capturing it in an elastic covered by a white velvet ribbon, and had dared it to move. So far, he seemed to be winning the battle. Earlier, he'd had the pleasure of seeing several of his former classmates, many for the first time since leaving Hogwarts. Seamus and Lavender Finnegan were the proud owners of an upscale brewery and pub specializing in artisan butterbeer just outside of Hogsmeade. Neville and Luna Longbottom and their five-year-old twin girls, Janie and Sasha, lived in Edinburgh and owned a Herbology shop. Finally, the Creevey brothers, who'd opened a wizard photography shop in Diagon Alley, had clambered up to him just as they'd done when they were schoolmates. They were the official photographers for the school and were now snapping candid photos as the attendees sampled appetizers from gleaming silver trays seemingly propelled by non-existent wind. Munching on a crab puff he'd taken from the tray weaving past him, he reached into the watch pocket of his waistcoat and removed his watch to check the time. It was almost 7 o'clock and Ginny had yet to arrive. He pressed the winding mechanism, watching as the Weasley family clock appeared. He watched as a hand reading "Arthur" swung from "work" to "home". He wished Ginny's hand would tell him where she was, but both it and his own (as well as hands belonging to Phillip and Patrick) sat quietly on the word "Hogwarts". The year Harry'd received the watch from Ginny, the rest of the Weasley family had presented him with a gift that he'd considered one of his most

treasured of all time: his own hand for the Weasley family clock. As Mr. Weasley had placed it onto the clock face, Harry had watched as it spun around several times before falling still on the word "Home." At that moment, the watch had shivered in his pocket. Startled, he had removed the watch and pressed down on the winding mechanism, only to find that a tiny hand reading "Harry" had joined the others. Amazed, he'd raised tear-filled eyes to Ginny and her father. "Your watch is a miniature Weasley clock, Harry," Mr. Weasley had said. "With every birth, every death, every marriage, whenever a hand is added or stilled forever on this clock, yours will be affected as well." Six months later, when Harry had fled The Burrow, he'd silenced the Weasley clock mechanism on the pocket watch. Over the years while he'd studied at Oxford, he'd used the watch as a simple timepiece only, refusing to activate the Weasley clock because it was just one more reminder of what he'd been missing. However, each time he would remove the watch from his pocket he remembered sitting in front of a fire with the only woman he'd ever loved, and lost. And while the memories had been painful, he'd worn it every day. It wasn't until he'd returned to his flat in London to pack up his belongings after watching Ginny storm away from him at the Obelisk of Remembrance that he'd re-activated the Weasley clock on the watch. He'd stared, transfixed, as the hands slowly spun around its face, registering where each of the Weasley's had been and showing the additions which had been made during his absence. Just as his own hand had begun to creak back to life he'd snapped the lid shut and Apparated back to Hogsmeade. Shaking his head to clear the memories, he pressed the mechanism to check the time again. He was snapping the watch shut when he froze, a shiver racing down his spine. He turned, saw Ginny walking into the Great Hall, and promptly forgot how to breathe. She'd tended to avoid wearing hats, a rarity amidst the female teaching staff at Hogwarts, and it was a habit for which Harry had been glad he'd always loved her hair. He now wished that there was something to shield it from him that night, anything that might help him regain his composure. She'd worn it up, fine braids crisscrossing to create an intricately woven nest for the rest of her hair to rest in. It looked stunning and precarious, as if the

removal of one pin would send it cascading down her back, and the thought of being the one to remove that pin made Harry groan aloud, his fingers itching to touch it. The mass of her hair made her already-long neck appear even longer, melting into graceful shoulders, their caps exposed in stark contrast to the emerald green velvet which caressed her arms all the way to their pointed cuffs. The empire waist of the gown, highlighted by a black velvet ribbon, fit snugly under her breasts, and the hint of cleavage caused Harry to look away sharply, his body reacting painfully as she approached. When he hazarded another glance he noticed two things: that he wished she'd worn the pendant he'd given her for Christmas all those years ago, and that she was staring at him as intently as he'd been staring at her. Her eyes shifted to his hands, and he realized that she'd noticed the pocket watch. Stealing one last deep breath, he smiled and started down the steps from the staff tables to meet her. "Ginny," he said, his voice sounding deep and unfamiliar in his own ears, "you look breathtaking." He extended a hand to assist her up the steps of the dais. "Thank you, Harry," she said, her eyes flicking over his face as she climbed the steps. "I almost didn't recognize you when I first came into the hall." Her lips curved into a smile that came close to stopping his heart. "You look incredible!" As she reached the top of the steps, Harry was certain he was glowing redder than any Weasley ever could have glowed in his or her lifetime. "You still have the watch," she said, holding out one of her hands. Harry numbly slid the watch into her palm and watched as she turned it over in her hands. Her thumb rubbed across the peacock on the front of the watch and Harry was once again thankful for the flowing robes which were a part of wizarding attire. "I wondered whether or not you'd kept it after" she said, her eyes rising to meet his. "After you'd left." "I promised I would that New Year's Eve at your house, Gin," he said, quietly. The memory of their moments together that night flooded him and he had to stop himself from leaning in to kiss her.

Now it was her turn to blush. He watched as she raised her hand to her throat to finger her clavicle. "I " she stammered, only to be silenced by a deep-sounding gong from somewhere near the ceiling. "Ladies and gentlemen," Professor McGonagall said, rising to her feet, resplendent in her clan tartan, "dinner is served." Holding his arm out, Harry leaned close. "Shall I escort you to your seat, Professor Weasley?" "Yes, you may, Professor Potter," Ginny said, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Minerva's toe was tapping in rhythm to the music as she watched the students and guests dancing. Dinner had been another spectacular affair of standing rib roast, Yorkshire pudding, and all of the trimmings. The hall sparkled with the light from what seemed to be a thousand jack-o-lanterns floating high above the floor. As she watched the couples swirling in circles across the parquet dance floor that had been magicked in as the tables were cleared, her eye caught the twitch of a feline tail. She chuckled Ginny Weasley's cat, Periwinkle, was racing in circles around Mrs. Norris in a wasted attempt to charm her. "Must have been the catnip I slipped him at dinner," Snape muttered, leaning heavily on his cane. "Why Severus, you old softy," Minerva said, nudging him in his side with her elbow. Snape sniffed. "It appears that Potter and Weasley are taking their turns as chaperones," he said, arching a brow in their direction. Minerva turned to see the couple discreetly separating students who seemed to believe slow dancing gave them permission to surreptitiously grope one another. "Well, it's clear their technique is better than yours, Severus," Minerva said with a snort. "I seem to recall that the night of the Christmas Ball the year of the Triwizard Tournament, your technique involved blasting at the students in the rose bushes, correct?"

"Well, since I was supposed to be in league with the Dark Lord' I couldn't very well have pleaded with them to stop, now could I?" Minerva patted his arm. "I'll see if I can round up some students for you to blast before the night is over, Severus." "It's what I live for," Snape drawled, a smirk rising on his face. He paused suddenly and peered out over the couples, drawing Minerva's attention. She blinked: Harry Potter was staring at Ginny Weasley with enough fire to light the Great Hall ablaze for months. "Well," Snape said loudly, turning to glance at Minerva. "I believe that's one Galleon you owe me." "Severus, not here," she hissed, tugging him closer so that she could be heard over the music, "and it was one Galleon when they reconciled, not when they'd noticed one another!" If it had been anyone other than Snape she would have sworn she had heard a laugh. "Besides, it wouldn't be the first time a couple of teachers became involved' during their tenure at Hogwarts. You remember Hagrid's predecessor and Poppy had a bit of a fling in days gone by." "Thankfully, that was before my time, Minerva," Snape said with a shudder. "In any event, if anything does happen, I would expect the two of them to act like the adults they are and to be discreet. You are correct," she said, with a nod, "it can't disrupt the school." They watched the dancing in silence for several moments until Remus and Poppy started over to Harry and Ginny. "Must be their turn to play chaperone," Snape said, "although I'm almost certain I saw a smile cross the werewolf's face." Minerva turned to see Poppy and Remus wink at her as Harry and Ginny headed towards the dance floor. "Oh, dear."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The moment Harry guided Ginny out onto the dance floor, she'd felt as if all eyes were upon them. Now, she was positive they were. Anyone looking at them would have seen a very handsome couple executing a perfect waltz, but for Ginny it was torturous. Harry was a splendid dancer, and she burned with jealousy wondering who had been the lucky woman to teach him how to dance like this. He held her very respectfully, yet all she could think about were the changes she'd noticed about him: his hands were wider than they had been when they were a couple, his shoulders a bit more broad. But it was the massive improvement in his dancing that held her attention. She remembered their first dance as a couple. It had taken place at the Easter Ball her fifth year at Hogwarts. They'd both been nervous as cats when they'd first walked onto the dance floor, only to discover that they'd both been taking secret lessons in preparation, Ginny with Dean Thomas (which had been cause for concern the next day) and Harry with Hermione. Regardless of the lessons, her toes had been mashed several times, much to Harry's mortification. He'd apologized by massaging her feet in the common room as soon as the dance was over. They'd wound up snogging on the hearthrug within fifteen minutes. For a split second, Ginny wondered if she should try to step on his toes. His voice interrupted her musings. "Are you having a nice time tonight, Gin?" he asked softly, leaning close enough for her to catch a slight whiff of his cologne: sandalwood. At least that hadn't changed. "Very much, thanks," she said, glancing up into his eyes, clear and green behind the lenses of his virtually-invisible glasses. "You're a wonderful dancer, Harry." She paused, wishing she could tie her tongue up into knots. "Thank you," he said, steering her away from Neville and Luna as they charged past. "During my years of graduate school, a group of classmates and I would attend the formal functions and tear up a carpet or two." He smiled down into her eyes. "It was one of the reasons I was glad to hear that the students aren't required to find dates for this dinner we would all dance with one another, no pressure. I started to learn how to enjoy dancing so that it wasn't so much of aa" he paused, searching for a word.

"A test?" Ginny offered. "Exactly," he said with a nod, his voice quieter than before. It caused Ginny to close the gap between them until she realized he was holding her very closely. Her eyes darted to his and she realized they'd grown a shade darker than they had been before. "I will say this I'm grateful for all of those social functions if it means I can hold you like this and not worry about mashing your toes into oblivion." He brushed his left thumb across her right index finger and brought their clasped hands down to rest against his chest. Ginny's breathing became shallow. She was certain that the famous Weasley blush was creeping up her neck to her face. She watched as his eyes grew even darker and felt the hand resting on her hip tighten ever so slightly. She broke eye contact with him, moving back slightly until they'd resumed the classic stance of a waltzing couple. Shaken, she finished their dance in silence, knowing that something had changed for both of them. 14: Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw Harry spent the better part of the day after the dance on his Firebolt supervising the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw squads' practices. Ordinarily, he wouldn't have minded at all. Today, however, the weather was abysmal. Despite the myriad of charms and spells he'd attempted, he'd wound up soaking wet and miserable by the time lightning crackled across the horizon. "That's it! Clear off! Changing rooms! Now!" he bellowed to the Ravenclaws before heading down towards the earth. As his feet hit the ground, the Ravenclaw's Seeker plopped down into the puddle next to him, sending globs of mud flying in every direction, including Harry's jumper. "I'm sorry, Professor Potter!" Ming Chang said with a wail as the rest of the Ravenclaws landed nearby and tore in the direction of the changing rooms. "Don't worry about it, Miss Chang," Harry said with a grimace, brushing away most of the mud before sighing in defeat. "This jumper has pretty much had it for today." He glanced away from his chest over to the tiny girl. "Let's go inside, eh?"

"Yes, sir!" she said as they turned to dash towards the entrance to the changing room facility. Reaching the foyer, each of them shook themselves like a pair of wet puppies. "Thank you for working with us, Professor, especially on a day like today. We really appreciate it!" Harry smiled, arching a teasing look at Ming. "Ordinarily I'd say it's been my pleasure', although today I think we would all have been happier snug inside with some hot cider!" She laughed. "Excellent flying up there today, by the way." "Thanks, sir," Ming said, her eyes bright with excitement. "It was so dreadful out there but we really need the practice." She bit her bottom lip, a frown forming on her brow. "It was a good practice, wasn't it? I mean, we made some progress, despite the rain, didn't we?" "You're right about that, Miss Chang," Harry said with a smile. "I have to say your team is looking quite good so far this season and will give Gryffindor a run for the money next Saturday!" She beamed. "Excellent!" "Now, get in there and warm up I don't want you or any of your teammates coming down with anything before next week's match!" "Yes, sir!" Ming said as she turned towards the girls' changing room. Harry shivered and turned towards the office adjacent to the changing rooms. As he opened the door, the heat from the room caused his glasses to fog over. "Bloody hell," he muttered, snatching them off his nose. He'd forgotten to charm them again. He tossed them up onto the mantel. "I'll worry about them later time to get changed." He removed his wand and pointed it towards the glass in the door. "Opacus!" he said. The glass misted over, becoming dense and opaque. Locking the door, he began to shrug out of his wet gear, kicking off his shoes, unbuckling his belt and removing his jeans. He dragged the sodden turtleneck jumper over his head and threw it in the direction of his office chair. A second later, an outraged squawk pierced the silence. "Hedwig!" Harry said, fumbling for his glasses and shoving them onto his nose. His owl was perched on the back of the chair, eyes blazing from

underneath a heap of wet wool. "I'm so sorry!" he said, rushing over to lift the jumper off of her. A chuckle nearly escaped him. One look from her stopped it halfway up his throat. "Good lord, when did you get here?" She thrust her leg out, snapping her beak violently as she ruffled her feathers at him. "Believe me, Hedwig, I'm sorry about that! I didn't see you in here!" His fingers tugged at the damp string around her leg. It took several moments for him to untie the knot. When he'd finally released the note, Hedwig gave his finger a sharp nip. "OW! I said I was sorry!" He took her onto his wrist, walked over to the mantel, and set her down on the edge of the trophy case. "All I've got is part of a sandwich from earlier. Take it!" She settled her feathers and, with a final glance, began to tuck in. Sucking on the small cut Hedwig had given him, he glanced at the letter and smiled. It was from Hermione. Twenty minutes later, freshly showered and changed, Harry sat at his desk and slid a finger along the seal of the envelope. A coin slid out. Puzzled, Harry set it down and settled into his office chair to read. Dear Harry, It's All Saint's Day and I simply cannot wait until I am able to meet the little tot that has been bashing in my ribcage for the past few months. I'm as big as a rhino and twice as grumpy, but I just know I've not much farther to go before it's over. Recognize the coin? I've decided I want you to be here when the baby arrives so I took one of our old fake Galleons from the DA and re-cast the Protean Charm on it. The word "It's Time" will glow along the edges when we're heading to St. Mungo's. Before you ask me, I'll tell you that Ron knows all about it, and while he wasn't leaping up and down with excitement, he knows that it's important to me that you be here with us this time round. I want my new son or daughter to know their godfather right from the start. Harry stopped, feeling as though a thousand butterflies had fluttered to life in his stomach. Godfather?

I just sent one to Ginny as well. In any case, I've got to dash. Ron wants to go through another practice run to the hospital. I hope to see you soon! Love from Hermione Harry slowly set the letter down onto his desk and picked up the coin. He recognized in easily and smiled as he ran his fingernail along the series of runes at the edge of the coin where many years before the date and time for their next clandestine class would appear. I'm to be godfather to Ron and Hermione's baby, he thought to himself, feeling what had to have been an idiotic grin cross his face. Tucking the coin into his pocket, he jumped out of his chair, walked over to the wardrobe next to the door and removed his satchel from the hook inside. After a bit of rooting around, his hand grasped what he'd been looking for: the Marauder's Map. Flicking a glance at the door, he walked back to his desk and picked up his wand, placing the tip of it against the parchment. "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good," he said. Slowly, the intricate lines which formed the map shimmered into view. His eyes raced around the map until they fell on the person he wanted to see. "She's in the library." "Mischief managed," Harry muttered under his breath, then folded up the map and packed it away in his satchel. He grabbed his robe and slung it onto his shoulders in one practiced movement, then tucked his wand in the slender pocket hidden inside and strode towards the door. "Alohomora," he said, his hand clasped on the door latch. It grew warm under his touch and slid open. He turned to his owl. "I'm leaving, Hedwig. Would you like to stay here or head back to the tower?" The bird squawked sharply at him, gripped the last bits of sandwich in her beak and took to the air, whipping past him with nary a backwards glance. "I'm for it now," he grumbled as he watched her flap towards the exit. He closed and locked the door behind him and headed towards the main part of the castle. As he walked past the Great Hall, he smiled as he remembered the previous evening's events. He hadn't had a chance to dance with Ginny again after their waltz, but the two of them had spent several hours acting as

chaperones. They'd cast conspiratorial glances at one another as they'd walked amongst the crowd, looking for students whose hands had been wandering with wicked intent during the slow dances, and shared stories of discovering students who'd found a darkened corner or broom cupboard for a bit of frolic. Ginny'd had to wipe away tears of laughter from her eyes when Harry had told her of finding Neville and Luna in one of the greenhouses. It had been close to midnight when the final strains of music had drifted through the hall and Professor McGonagall had brought the ball to a close. Harry had glanced around to see where Ginny was he'd wanted to walk her back to Gryffindor Tower but was waylaid by Seamus and Lavender. "Harry, mate," Seamus said, clapping a hand on Harry's shoulder, "you've got to come by the pub next weekend after the match! We're hosting the celebration party!" "Aren't you jumping the gun a wee bit, Seamus?" Harry said with a laugh. "Are you mad, Harry? We've got the next generation from Ireland's Professional Quidditch team on our side, mate! Aidan Lynch's daughter playing Seeker, Moran's son at Chaser and Connelly's son at Beater! We'll pulverize them!" "I dunno, Seamus," Harry said, shaking his head. "You haven't seen this year's Ravenclaw team in the air yet. They're very impressive. And they've got descendants of the Irish champions on their side as well, don't forget that!" Seamus snorted. "Well, if we lose, we'll all just cry in our beer and start strategizing for the Hufflepuffs!" "Win or lose, please join us Harry," Lavender added, tucking an arm in the crook of her husband's elbow. "Everyone will be there! Lee Jordan, Angelina, Katie Bell, the Weasley twins, everybody!" "Yeah, we're launching a new butterbeer Lion's Gold," Seamus said proudly. Harry paused, his stomach doing a slow roll. He'd made the decision to return to the wizarding world when it came to the school. Was he prepared

to re-enter the whole social realm of that world as well? Not to mention running into the twins and who knew who else. He gritted his teeth Heir of Gryffindor, you git. "Count me in," he said with a nod. Seamus whooped and shook his hand, clapping him on the back hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. "What's going on?" a voice said behind him. He turned and saw Ginny standing not more that a foot behind him. "Ginny," Harry said, clearing his throat and shaking his head. "Seamus was just telling me about his plans for a Gryffindor get-together following next week's match." "Ginny, you've got to come," Lavender said, fairly dancing on her toes. "I'd love to," Ginny said, her eyes fixed on Harry's. Harry felt as if all of the blood in his body had raced to his feet. "Brilliant!" Seamus said. "The Lion and the Owl as soon as the match is over!" With a final handshake, Seamus and Lavender headed towards the main doors. Harry waved, willing his stomach to return to its normal state of calm. He turned to face Ginny and realized the room was nearly empty. "Wow this place cleared out in a hurry, didn't it?" "The temperature outside started to drop fairly quickly, so I think most of the guests wanted to reach the Apparition point in Hogsmeade before it got too late or too cold," Ginny said, glancing out one of the tall windows. "Anyway, it's time I head back to Gryffindor. Getting the students to settle down after bushels of candy and excitement should be a challenge." "Can I walk you back?" Harry blurted, mentally kicking himself. Real smooth, Potter. She paused for a moment, then smiled. "Thank you, Harry." They took their time, walking quietly through the hallways past the sleeping inhabitants of the portraits. On their way they talked about the upcoming match, their classes, the weather, the number of students who'd been stuck in

the hospital wing with a nasty flu. It wasn't until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady that Harry asked her the question that had been plaguing his mind. "Gin, why didn't your friend Christopher come to the dance tonight?" he blurted out, his heart in his throat. "He" she said, a frown creasing her brow. "He and I had words while I was out of town for my friend's funeral." "If you don't mind me asking, Gin," he said softly, "what kind of words?" Her eyes flickered over his face. "Actually, it was about you," she said. "I'd sent him a note before I left, telling him that we needed to talk when he came here for the dance." Her frown deepened. "He showed up at the funeral, rather unexpectedly." Harry's eyes widened. "What?" "Yes, he came to the funeral. Anyway, I told him that I needed some time to think about things. Because of what you and I'd talked about the night I'd found out about Sammie. He" she paused, and Harry watched as she made an effort to choose her words wisely. "He pushed me too far so I called things off with him." "What do you mean, pushed you too far?" he said, his voice sounded reedy and dark. His ears were roaring and he felt his hand clench into a fist. "He didn't hurt you, did he?" "No! No, of course not," Ginny said quickly, pressing a hand against his chest. "I'm sorry, I'm not being clear. What I meant by that was he wound up proposing to me, and I wasn't ready for that, not with him." She looked up into Harry's eyes. "You and I have to work through what happened between us before I could seriously consider his or anyone else's proposal. In any event, it's a moot point now." "You broke things off with him," Harry said, realization dawning on him. Ginny nodded. "I want to make things right with you, Harry. With us. I don't know if it means that we'll start seeing one another again, or if it just

means we're able to be friends. I just don't know that right now. But after what you shared with me that night, I've got to try. Do you understand?" Dumbfounded, Harry nodded. "I'll admit this much to you," she said, gazing into his eyes. "Any feelings of animosity I may have had towards you before are long gone." She leaned up to press her lips against his cheek, their warmth and softness sending his head spinning. "Thank you for walking me back. I'll see you in the morning." Kiss her, you idiot! his brain screamed. "Ginny?" he said, his hand closing onto her upper arm. She stopped, her eyes shining in the light of the hallway torches. He leaned towards her, certain she would pull away before he reached his goal. As their lips touched, the roaring in his ears returned. Memories of all of their previous kisses rocketed through his head, yet the sweetness of her breath and the warmth of her lips in the present left him yearning for more. Her free hand came up to cup the side of his face in a whisper of a caress before she stepped back, breaking the kiss. "Good night, Harry," she said, turning towards the portrait. "Leaping Lionne." "About time, girl," the Fat Lady said, stifling a yawn. "I wondered if he'd ever get on with it." Harry flushed brick-red. "I'll see you in the morning, Gin." And with a wave, she slid behind the portrait. "Taken to wool-gathering in the hallways, Potter?" a voice drawled silkily behind him, startling him from his memories. He turned, to find Snape standing behind him, a sardonic grin on his face. "Hello, Professor," Harry said, willing himself not to blush. "Still lurking in the hallways, I see." During the weeks Harry had been back at Hogwarts, his interactions with Snape had been fairly limited. Whenever they did encounter one another, however, their attitudes had wavered between extremely professional and slightly antagonistic. And while Snape's service to the Order during the war may have eliminated any feelings of distrust Harry'd had, he still didn't feel any need to like the man.

"Actually, I was heading out to the pitch to speak with you," Snape snapped, thrusting a sealed roll of parchment into Harry's empty hand. "Staff assignments following the match for Saturday." "What do you mean, staff assignments?" Harry said with a frown, angling his Firebolt against his side as he broke the seal. "We need to ensure there are enough staff here at the castle to attend to the younger students after the match," Snape said, a condescending note in his voice. "Only third year and above are allowed to go into Hogsmeade. You, of all people, should remember that." Harry's head snapped up, away from the parchment as his eyes flashed at Snape's. "Of course I do," he said sharply. His eyes returned to the parchment, scanning the document. "What do you know I'm one of the staff chosen to stay behind." He curled up the parchment and tucked it into the inside pocket of his robes. "I take it you are in charge of putting together the list." Snape smiled. "You are fairly clever once you apply yourself, Potter. You might be able to find a substitute if you act quickly." "Thanks," Harry said, turning to head towards the library. He froze in midstep and removed the parchment from his robes. "Yes, Mr. Potter, Miss Weasley is also on the list," Snape called out to him. "Can't put anything past you, now can I?" Harry turned just in time to see Snape's black robes billowing out behind him as he headed down the hall towards the dungeons. "Bloody hell," Harry muttered, picking up his Firebolt. With a final glance down the hallway leading towards the library, he turned and headed towards the Astronomy Tower he'd find Ginny later. Despite his initial reservations, he'd found himself looking forward to the post-match gathering at Seamus' pub. He'd realized in recent weeks that he'd missed the friendships he'd formed back when he was at Hogwarts. When it came right down to it, it was practically impossible to form the same level of closeness with his colleagues he'd served detention with practically every single one of them at some point, the lone exception being Remus. And while he missed his classmates from Oxford, none of them had the same

sense of history as he'd shared with his mates from Gryffindor, especially Ron, Hermione and Ginny. He opened the door to the Astronomy Tower and walked up the steps towards his rooms. Placing the Firebolt in the small broom cupboard he'd built just before the start of term, he flung himself onto his bed. Turning his head towards his bookcase, he reached into his pocket and extracted his wand. "Accio photo album!" he said, watching the maroon leather book sail through the air to land with a soft flumph onto the bed next to him. Turning onto his side, he propped his head up onto the palm of his hand and started flipping through its pages. He was now able to smile when he looked upon photographs of his parents. Their loss was something he'd always carry with him, but it had lost the sharpness that it had had when he'd first received the photo album from Hagrid. He flipped to a page where he'd placed a photograph of Hagrid that Colin Creevey had taken at a Quidditch match in Harry's third year, watching as the photographic Hagrid cheered, stomped his feet and waved up at him. The pain of loss became more acute as thoughts of all of the others who'd fallen during the pursuit of Voldemort crossed his mind. Unbidden, the image of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy flashed stark and cold in front of him, causing Harry's stomach to lurch uncomfortably. He flipped several pages through the book until his eyes fell upon the picture of himself and Ginny at the Easter Ball. God, we were so innocent back then, he thought as his photographic self appeared to puff out his chest with pride. He'd had to admit it had felt like his heart had stopped when he'd spied her at the top of the steps in Gryffindor Tower. She'd been wearing blue that night, a blue he was certain he'd seen before many times. But on her, it had seemed as though he'd never seen in before in his life. She'd worn her hair up (as she had last night, he thought to himself) and he remembered being transfixed by the little mole at the nape of her neck. He grinned. Before the night was over, he'd tasted the skin right next to that mole. He shut the photo album with a solid thump, his mind made up. It was time to hunt up a volunteer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Come in," Remus said moodily, glancing up from his desk when he heard the knock on his office door. His look of irritation changed to one of surprise as he saw Ginny's head peek around the corner. "Ginny! It's wonderful to see you please come in!" "I'm not disturbing you, am I, Remus?" "Of course not," he said, rising to his feet and beckoning her in with his hand. "I've just been struggling with a bit of a puzzle I received from Sirius the other day. Your arrival is a welcome diversion." He watched as she smiled and stepped further into the room. She'd made quite the transformation from the glamorous young woman he'd seen the night before dancing in Harry's arms, her hair now tucked loosely behind her ears, dressed in jeans and her Weasley jumper. Now he could see glimpses of the young girl he'd taught, the playful sprite that had captured Harry's heart so many years ago. Does she know that she's held that heart all this time? Remus mused to himself as he shut the door. Probably not, but if last night was any indication, she'll know it soon enough. "That's quite a grin on your face, Remus," she said, cocking her head to the side and raising an eyebrow. "Knut for your thoughts?" "No, I'm afraid I'll have to pass for now, Ginny," Remus said, rounding the corner of his desk. "Can I offer you some tea?" "Thanks, I'd like that," she said, settling into the chair on the opposite side of his. Waving his wand over the pot, he refreshed the tea and poured her a mug. "I wanted to ask you about Harry." Protectiveness crept up his spine. "What about Harry, Ginny?" He watched as a flush rose onto her cheeks. "Well," she said, nibbling her bottom lip, "I was wondering about his time away from us. At Oxford."

"Yes?" Remus said, the protectiveness of earlier shimmering away, being replaced by amusement. This should be interesting. "Did heI meanwas he ever" she said, setting her mug down and clasping her hands in her lap. "Oh, just spit it out, Weasley," she muttered. Remus took a sip of tea to keep from laughing out loud. "Did he have anyone special while he was at Oxford?" Remus' eyes studied the ceiling for a moment. Definitely interesting. "Well, he was pretty close-mouthed about his personal life while he was there, Ginny," he said, slanting a glance in her direction. "I do know that a couple of his mates fixed him up on blind dates, which did not go over well. There was one young woman," he said, pausing for a moment to take a sip of tea. He glanced up at Ginny surreptitiously through his lashes, making note of the furrow that had appeared between her brows. "Friend of a friend, if I recall correctly. They saw one another for about six months." Another glance told him the furrow had grown into a full-blown frown. He hid a smile behind the lip of his mug. Time to put her out of her misery. "She was more interested in Harry than he was in her, I do remember that clearly enough. After Rachel, he turned his full attention towards his studies." Finally, he gazed directly into her eyes. "Why the interest, Ginny?" he asked innocently. She jumped, bobbling as she reached for her mug. "Only curious," she stammered. "Ginny," Remus said with a smile. "I saw the two of you dancing last night. I know the history the two of you have shared. I was under the impression that you were seeing someone else." "I was," Ginny said, turning brick-red. "And I don't want to rush things" "Because of what's happened after the war?" She nodded. "Well, give yourself the time, Ginny," Remus said, draining the last of the tea out of his mug. "You've plenty to come by. Get to know him again and give him a chance to get to know you again as well. Perhaps the two of you can work on that after the match on Saturday."

At that moment, a sharp knock rang out on the door, only to swing open a second later. "Remus, can I ask you a fa" Harry said, breathlessly, coming to a halt as his eyes met Ginny's. "Ginny! What are you doing here?" "Sharing a cup of tea with Remus," she said, arching a brow. "How about you?" Remus poured himself another cup of tea. This was too good to be true. "I was coming by to see if Remus could do me a favor, actually," Harry said, closing the door behind him. "What can I do for you, Harry?" "I w-was wondering" Harry hesitated, throwing a swift glance towards Ginny, before turning back to Remus and blurting, "if-you-were-planningon-going-into-Hogsmeade-this-Saturday." Remus noticed he was gripping a piece of parchment tightly in his right hand and had turned as red as a beet. "I hadn't intended on it," Remus said. Then, as though someone had thrown open a window shade, comprehension dawned. "AhaSnape's announced the staffing plan for Hogsmeade, right? Let me guess you're stuck here at the castle." Harry nodded. "Ginny, you are as well," he said tentatively, raising the crumpled parchment. "I am?" Ginny said, rising to her feet and walking over to where Harry stood. She took hold of the parchment and scanned through it. As she read, Remus noticed that Harry's eyes remained fixed on the top of her head. I'd wager you're wondering what's going on inside that head right now, aren't you, Harry? "Well," Remus said, judging it time to end their misery, "I'd be more than happy to substitute for you Harry. Or you, Ginny. Just say the word." "Actually," Ginny said, her eyes snapping up to meet Remus' gaze, "that's OK, Remus. I'lljusthead over to the hospital wing and see if Madam Pomfrey needs any assistance there this afternoon." She shot one last glance

at Harry as she inched towards the door. "So long, everyone! Remus, thank you for the lovely tea " "And the conversation, Ginny," Remus finished, raising his mug in a silent salute. "Come by anytime." The door clicked shut. "What was that about?" Harry said, his brows beetling together. Remus chuckled. "I'd say that Poppy and I will be playing Wizarding Scrabble this Saturday following the match, Mr. Potter." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Several days later, Ginny smiled into her pillow. She was having a wonderful dream Walking along the edge of the forest near The Burrow in the summertime, with the sun's heat warming her shoulders. Grass whispered under her bare feet as she walked, listening to the birds and the gentle rush of water from the nearby stream. She felt a hand entwine with hers and looked over to see Harry smiling down at her, his eyes a misty green with happiness. He tugged her close, his other hand coming up to brush her cheekher chinto run a finger down her nose. Her eyes fluttered down, the anticipation of his kiss squeezing out the air from her lungs And then he licked her nose. Licked her nose? Her eyes snapped open to find a pair of green eyes staring down at her. Green eyes surrounded by the black, fuzzy face of Periwinkle. "Leave off, you twit!" Ginny groaned, heaving the cat off of her chest and sitting straight up in bed. As Peri chirruped his displeasure, she glared. "You can complain all you want, idiot cat. How would you like to wake up with a 14-pound weight on your chest?" He blinked and leapt from the bed to jump onto the windowsill, fixing her with a heavily-lidded glare.

Ginny tossed the coverlet aside and stretched, stealing a glance outside. Saturday was finally here! It had been a long week, but the first Hogwarts Quidditch match of the year was now only a few hours away and she could hardly wait. The weather had been awful for most of the week, causing tensions to increase with both teams as they struggled to fit in one or two decent practices before the game. Things had finally come to a head when a Ravenclaw fourth year had tripped a Gryffindor third year on their way into the Great Hall on Thursday. Mayhem had ensued as the first food fight Ginny had ever seen erupted before her eyes. She'd goggled when she'd heard a sharp crack of laughter from the person to her right Harry. He'd managed to disguise his laughter with a coughing fit for the rest of the staff as they'd all jumped to their feet to intervene. By the time the pudding had settled, four Gryffindors, two Hufflepuffs, six Ravenclaws and three Slytherins were under house detention. Amazingly, none of the Gryffindor or Ravenclaw Quidditch players were among the detainees. She dragged her wrap from the foot of her bed, draping it around her shoulders as she padded over to the fireplace. "Incendio!" she said, pointing her wand at the stack of wood bundled neatly inside and watched as the flames came to life, filling the room with warmth. She walked over to the window to open the sash crisp, cold and clear. Perfect Quidditch weather, she thought with a smile. As she dressed, she thought about the dream she'd been having before she'd been so rudely interrupted. Walking along the stream with Harry. They'd done that on numerous occasions during the summer before her sixth year. He'd surprised her with a picnic luncheon the day before they'd had to head back to Hogwarts. They'd spent the afternoon talking, eating finger foods and sipping the elderberry wine he'd snuck out of the house. They'd both got a little tipsy and wound up feeding one another their lunches before succumbing to the heat of the day and the wine, and snogging one another senseless for hours. Until Ron and Hermione had found them. Ginny pressed her hands to her face, her cheeks warm from the memory of Harry's kisses and shy caresses as well as of her brother's bellow. She also remembered the two kisses they'd shared since being back at Hogwarts: the

first, filled with anger and over-wrought emotions by the Obelisk of Remembrance; the second, only a week before, as they'd stood outside of Gryffindor Tower. Had she hoped that he would kiss her that night? Ginny had sensed that Harry would have kissed her in the middle of the dance floor if the music hadn't ended as soon as it did. As they'd worked the rest of the evening, she'd had to ask herself how she would have responded. It wasn't until the band was winding down that she'd finally admitted to herself that she was, in fact, dying for his kiss. Had been since that wild kiss next to the Obelisk. And when he'd finally leaned in to brush her lips with his, it had taken every ounce of strength within her not to sigh with pleasure. Well, I did plenty of that as soon as I'd got on the other side of the portrait hole, didn't I? With a shake of the head, she stood in front of the mirror, gathering her hair into a loose braid before heading down for breakfast she was going to be late. When she stepped through the concealed door next to the staff dais, she noticed that Harry was tucking into a robust breakfast. His eyes flickered up, pausing as she smiled a greeting. Ginny suppressed a giggle as he waggled his eyebrows at her, chewing a bite of sausage. As she took her seat, he gave a great swallow, set his utensils down, wiping his mouth with his napkin. His very nice mouth. "Good morning, Ginny," he said, smiling lightly. Ginny felt a wave of color creep up her cheeks. "Great day for Quidditch, isn't it?" "Yes, it is," she said, easing some eggs and bacon onto her plate. "Any guesses as to who will win?" "Oh no," he said, spreading some marmalade on his toast, "I'm not going to speculate at all. To be quite honest, both teams are frighteningly good." He took a bite of toast, and she watched as his eyes closed with pleasure he'd always loved Hogwarts' marmalade. "I overheard Professor Sprout laying a bet with Remus Ravenclaw by 200 points," she said, a smile teasing her face as she watched him swallow and sip his coffee.

"What?" Harry's eyebrows shot up towards his hairline, his cup landing on the table with a clatter. "I'd say it's going to be much closer than that. And don't tempt me, Gin," he said, polishing off his toast, "I've got to stay neutral. Wouldn't be much of a referee if I wasn't." "I wouldn't dream of it," she said with a chuckle. He nodded, giving his mouth a final wipe with his napkin before turning to look intently into her eyes. "So, do you have to come back here after the match?" A flock of Hippogriffs set to fluttering in her stomach. "Umno, actually. Madame Pomfrey offered to substitute for me this weekend." She glanced up at Harry, noticing that he appeared to be blushing as well. "Remus is covering for you, right?" "Yes," he said quickly, fiddling with his napkin and glancing away. Ginny bit her bottom lip, wondering what she should do. She took a deep breath and charged ahead. "I was won" "Would you go" Harry blurted right over the top of Ginny's words. She stopped, mouth agape as he started laughing loud enough to draw the attention of Professor McGonagall. He shook his head and turned sparkling eyes onto her. "Gin, would you go to Seamus' place with me after the match?" She grinned. "I'd like that very much, Harry." "Excellent," he said, resting his hand on her forearm. "I've got to head over to the pitch now, but how about if I meet you in front of the changing rooms after the match? I'll need about 10 minutes to get showered and changed. Or I can come by Gryffindor Tower if you like." He'd sped through his words so fast Ginny felt as though her head were spinning. Laughing, she covered his hand with hers. "I'll meet you at the changing rooms, Harry." He smiled, rising from his seat. "Good luck today!" "Thanks, Gin," he said, giving her a small wave as he turned to walk down the student tables to the main doors. Ginny noticed several of the girls at the

Gryffindor table giggling as he made his way past and she honestly couldn't blame them for doing so. He's definitely a catch. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry buckled his shin guards and rose to his feet. The black and white referee robes fit him perfectly, the lining of the flared arms flashing snowywhite against the jet-black material of the outer sleeve. As he took a moment in front of the mirror to adjust his tie, he realized that he'd had a grin on his face since leaving the Great Hall. While any other person would have thought he was only excited about refereeing his first Quidditch match ever, he knew better. It all had to do with what was happening after the match with Ginny. He'd worked out his plans for the evening as soon as he'd reached his office next to the changing rooms. They would walk to the Lion and the Owl for Seamus' gathering, then he would suggest that they have a quiet dinner at the Three Broomsticks. Of course, that had required a great deal of finessing with Madam Rosmerta by Floo given the fight he and Ron had had there before the start of term. However, he'd been able to secure a reservation in the private dining area of the pub. After dinner, a walk back to the school in the moonlight, perhaps a stroll around the lake. Don't you think you're rushing things, Potter? "Not bloody likely," he muttered out loud as he tugged on his gloves and arm guards, buckling the latter tightly into place. He held out his hairbrush and, pointing his wand at the bristles, said, "Aquula!" A small stream of water came out of the tip of his wand which poured all over the bristles, dampening them. "Cesso aquula!" and the water stopped. Clamping his wand in his teeth, he dragged the brush through his hair, tempering the messy locks long enough to ensnare it in an elastic band. It pinched a little, but he needed it to stay put. No Sleekeazy's Hair Potion for me, thank you very much. Picking up his wand and muttering a quick drying spell over the spilled water on the floor, he then tucked it into a slim pocket sewn along the side of

his left armguard and picked up his Firebolt. He could hear the spectators arriving and the sound of rousing cheers coming from the changing rooms. It was time. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "Good afternoon, Hogwarts students, faculty and alumni, and welcome to the first Quidditch match of the season!" Professor McGonagall's voice bellowed over the crowd with the use of a magical bullhorn. Thunderous cheers rang out throughout the stands. Ginny stood clapping and cheering with the best of them from her place in the faculty box next to Remus and Sirius, who'd come up for the game. Harry would be thrilled. "Today's match will be between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw! May I present to you our guest announcer for the game, on loan from the Chudley Cannons for the day: Lee Jordan!" Wild chants of "Go Go Gry-fin-dor! Go Go Gryfin-dor!" echoed as Lee took the bullhorn from Professor McGonagall. "Thank you, Headmistress McGonagall, for your wonderful welcome, and greetings to everyone here at Hogwarts! It's perfect Quidditch weather for the start of the season and I'm thrilled to be back here for what looks to be an outstanding match between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw! Each team boasts some of the best of England's young players, including a little Seeker who, it's believed, will be able to break several of the records set by Hogwarts' greatest Seeker to date and their new Master of Flight, Harry Potter! That said, let's bring out the teams!" The red and gold Quidditch robes of the Griffindor team fluttered in the breeze as they took to the field. "For Gryffindor, we have Chasers Grace Johnson, Aidan Moran and Neil Fitzsimmons all three joining the team last year; Keeper Daniel March burly blokereminds me of Oliver Wood, now Captain of Puddlemere United; Beaters Billy Jackson in his final year, and Captain Toby Connolly. Seeker for the Lions is Mavorneen Lynch! And now for the Ravens," Lee cried. As the blue and black Ravenclaw robes zipped past, Ginny adjusted the Omnioculars to slow motion in order to keep up with the introductions. "At Keeper, we have Captain Ryan Thomas. Chasers Teresa Ryan and twins Matthew and Megan Troy up next,

followed by Beaters Tom Gibson and PJ Shaw, both 7th years this season. And here comes the Seeker everyone's been talking about, Ming Chang!" As the teams circled around the pitch, Ginny's thoughts flashed back to her days on the Quidditch team. How nervous she'd been the first time she'd ever had to fly down the chute and out onto the field; the first time she'd closed her hand around the Snitch to win a match, feeling exhilarated at the experience, but wishing it had been Harry their team's real Seeker who had done so. The summer before her fifth year, McGonagall had lifted the ridiculous ban from Harry, allowing him to play again. As a result, Ginny (who had been acting as Seeker during the ban) had been out of a position. Only for a moment, though. McGonagall had also selected Harry to be Captain of the team. After he'd recovered from the back-slaps and cheering he'd received from Ron and the twins, he had turned and asked her to be a Chaser on the team. Thus began Ginny's inclusion in the Weasley-Potter summer Quidditch matches. It had been one thing to watch Harry from the ground or from one of the stands at school. It was another thing entirely playing with him. From her new vantage point she'd been astounded by the grace he'd had in the air, and his speed was breathtaking. She, Ron and Harry had spent hours in the field near The Burrow working on moves and strategy to the point where Hermione had finally given up complaining about their fixation on the game and taken to watching the three of them from under the shade of the big maple, her book or knitting often sitting untouched. Lee's voice cut into Ginny's musings. "...our referee for today's match, Master of Flight Harry Potter!" More cheers rang out as a black and white blur shot through the gateway. Ginny picked up her Omnioculars and fixed Harry in her sights, a flush radiating through her entire body. She hadn't thought it possible for him to look any better than he had in his formal wear from the dance. She had been quite mistaken. It has been said that men look good in uniform, but "good" was a particularly bland term when it came to how Harry looked in his referee gear. Like the tuxedo, the severe lines of the black and white material fit his body as though it had been made for him. Of course, it probably had been, given the fact that he couldn't very well have used Madam Hooch's robes. And while the robes were impressive, it was the protective gear that seemed to rob her of her breath.

He wore black leather. His breastplate, shin guards, arm guards and gloves all gleamed in the sunlight. As his feet touched the ground next to the case for the Quidditch balls, the leather's ability to follow his movements with buttery suppleness spoke of its expense. It also had Ginny wondering what it would feel like against her fingers. "There's our boy!" Sirius said, jolting Ginny out of her daze. "He looks good, doesn't he?" She nodded dumbly for a moment, only to lift the Omnioculars back into place. The better to hide yourself behind, Weasley. "Lord, Sirius, did you have to buy him all of that gear?" Remus said with a chuckle. "He looks like he's going into battle or something with all that leather." "Quidditch can be a dangerous game, Remus," Sirius said, frowning at his friend before turning his gaze to Ginny. "We want him to be safe, after all." Finding herself completely incapable of forming a coherent phrase, she nodded again. "Well, if something were to happen, we have Ginny here to take care of him," Remus said, patting her on her leg. "Of course, all of those buckles would be a nightmare to have to get through." I believe I would willingly volunteer for that task, she thought to herself, feeling aroused and mortified all at the same time. "Master Potter has taken to the field to release the Bludgers and the Snitch," Lee's voice cried out into the crowd. "As soon as he sends up the Quaffle the game will begin!" Ginny watched as Harry removed his wand from one of his arm guards and point it to his throat. "Clean match, ladies and gentlemen," Harry's voice rang out to the teams above him as he pointed to the Bludgers and Snitch in the box. "May the best house win!" She watched as he flung the Quaffle high into the air, magicked his voice back to normal and rose up on his broom to join the players.

"Gryffindor in possession...Its Moran to FitzsimmonsFitzsimmons to Johnsonlovely girl, that Grace Johnson. Cousin to Gryffindor's own Angelina Johnson, Chaser for the Wingtown Wanders. Dashed shame about their chances for the national title" "JORDAN!" "Sorry, Headmistressback to the commentary: Johnson streaks up the right side of the pitch, dodging a nasty swing from beater Tom Gibson, Captain of the Ravenclaw team. HE KNOWS BETTER THAN THAT!" Lee roared, shaking his fist and causing Ginny to jump. "Johnson back to Moran, racing to the goal.SCORE!!!" The stands erupted with cheers as Aidan Moran swept past the Gryffindor seats, pumping his fist in the air. The score was Gryffindor 10, Ravenclaw 0. "Ryan brings the ball back into play for Ravenclawfancy flying there, Ryandaughter of Barry Ryan from Ireland's Quidditch teamoh dearGryffindors, hold onto your hats, we could be in trouble! " "JORDAN, STAY NEUTRAL OR ELSE!" McGonagall roared. "Yes, ma'amRyan to young Matthew Troy, another one of Ireland's descendants! This Ravenclaw team is loaded with them!...Wha?..." Ginny jumped as she watched Matthew Troy made to zip upwards with the Quaffle, Gryffindor Chaser Neil Fitzsimmons close on his tail. Within seconds, Troy dropped the Quaffle within a hair's breadth of Fitzsimmon's grasp, the ball landing handily in Ryan's waiting grip. "THE PORSKOFF PLOY! I don't believe it!" Lee screamed. "Troy and Ryan have pulled off an AMAZING Porskoff Ploy, leaving Gryffindor's Beaters Jackson and Connolly completely unpreparedTroy must have learned that from his father, who performed a similar ploy against Bulgaria in the Quidditch World Cup thirteen years ago!...Troy charging towards the ringstoss to RyanRAVENCLAW SCORES!!" Ginny watched as a sea of blue flags waved crazily in the Ravenclaw stands directly across from the staff box. As the Ravenclaws circled the field, Ginny stole another glance at Harry, sitting high above the field, his face fixed as he watched the game progress.

The game went on for another hour, with Gryffindor and Ravenclaw exchanging shot for shot, and Ginny could tell Harry had been right: it was going to be a very close game. Ming Chang and Mavourneen Lynch, Gryffindor's Seeker, had exchanged several feints and chases throughout the course of the game, including one spectacular dive from the Ravenclaw rings as the Snitch had fluttered thirty feet below their position. Lynch had grabbed hold of Chang's broom, resulting in a blagging foul and a penalty shot upon which Ravenclaw had capitalized. The score was 130 to 120 when suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw Ming Chang streak down from near the Gryffindor rings. Ginny had to admit that Ming was a natural flyer, the most natural flyer since she'd seen Harry on a broomstick her first year of school. She was fearless, diving straight towards the ground, her hand extended, Lynch right on her tail. Within seconds, however, it was all over. "CHANG HAS THE SNITCH!" Lee bellowed, his voice hoarse from exertion. "CHANG HAS THE SNITCH!" A shrill whistle broke through the screams of the crowd. "RAVENCLAW WINS!" Harry yelled, his voice magically amplified again. Ginny swung her Omnioculars around to watch him sail past, using his wand to send the Bludgers back towards the ground. Sweat-stained and flushed with excitement, his joy was palpable and took her breath away. It was clear that despite the loss of his old house team, Harry Potter was happier than she'd seen him since his return to their world. As the fans started to make their way down the stairs to the ground below, Ginny ducked into one of the passageways, whispering a glamour to tidy up her appearance. She'd taken time to choose her clothing for her trip into Hogsmeade with Harry after the match: a soft, woolen jumper of deep, autumnal reds and golds and a long, velvety skirt in chocolate brown which matched her cloak. When she'd pulled it out of her wardrobe after breakfast, she'd thought that the fabrics looked warm and touchable. Warm and touchable, eh? a voice whispered in her ear. Flushing bright red, she tucked her wand away and headed down the stairs again. When she reached the bottom, she ran into Seamus and Lavender. Ginny had to muffle a chuckle at the look on Seamus' face it looked as though someone had killed his favorite pet.

"How?!" Seamus wailed, mopping his eyes with a red and gold Gryffindor flag. "How could it have happened?" "Easily," Fred quipped, "Chang got the Snitch!" Seamus howled with rage and Lavender appeared to wish the ground would swallow her whole. "Don't mind him, Lavender," Ginny said with a chuckle. "Let him go on for a bit. By the time everyone arrives at the pub he'll be ready to start firing things up for the Hufflepuff match!" Lavender giggled and touched Ginny on her arm. "I wanted to ask you how things were going here at Hogwarts with Harry," she said, a conspiratorial gleam in her eye. "What? Oh, things are fine," Ginny said, flustered. "Well, with the two of you fancying one another then spending all of that time apart, I wondered if it would have been difficult being around him again." "No," Ginny said, choosing her words carefully Lavender was a known gossip. One wrong word and the Daily Prophet would be ablaze with rumors and innuendo. "We've become friends again, and that's been wonderful." "Now, I saw the two of you dancing the other night," Lavender said, pressing ahead. "The two of you looked natural with one another. And Merlin, has he developed into quite the looker! Before fifth year, I told Parvati she should have kept her eyes on him, but his behavior at the Yule Ball sealed his fate with her." Lavender gripped Ginny's arm tightly, causing her to wince. "I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw him last week and then again today! He's looking quitefit," she said, waggling her eyebrows. Ginny detected a slight buzzing in her ears she had to get away from Lavender before she exploded. "Too right, Lavender," she said, extracting her arm from Lavender's grasp and pasting a smile onto her face. "Gin!" George exclaimed, grabbing her in a hug. "Thought it was about time I rescued you," he whispered in her ear.

"Thank you," Ginny hissed, giving him a squeeze. "George, it's great to see you!" "You're coming over to the pub, right?" he said with a wink. "I said I would, but hopefully not for long," she said, grimacing. "If I hadn't promised Harry I wou" She blanched, clapping a hand across her mouth. "'Promised Harry what, sister dear?" Fred said from her other side. She jumped. "Nothing! Nothing," she stammered, walking away from both of them. "I'll see you later!" She stalked away from the stands towards the changing rooms. "Brilliant, Weasleyjust brilliant," she muttered under her breath. "What else can go wrong?" As she turned the corner, she saw Harry standing in front of the changing rooms, still dressed in his Quidditch gear, his broom held loosely in his right hand while he wildly gesticulated with his left. Standing beside him was a petite woman with dark hair who laughed up into his eyes. A finger of icy recognition ran its way down her spine, only to be confirmed a second later as a tiny girl shot out of the gateway, dressed in Ravenclaw blue. "Auntie Cho! Auntie Cho! I caught the Snitch!" Ming whooped, doing a mad skip as she ran up to her aunt. Ginny watched through narrowed eyes as Cho embraced Ming in a tight hug. "Well done, Ming!" Cho said gaily. "You flew brilliantly!" "You certainly did, Miss Chang congratulations on winning your first game!" Harry said, bending low to shake her hand. Ming giggled lightly, her eyes shining with happiness. "Please, Harry, let us take you out for a celebration drink in Hogsmeade," Cho said silkily. Ginny watched as Cho reached out to touch one of his leather-clad arms and saw red. "He's already got plans," Ginny said loudly as she stalked up towards where they stood. Harry had turned white, taking a step away from Cho. "Hello, Cho."

"Ginny Weasley," Cho said with a feline smile. "Or I should say Professor Weasley! Congratulations upon your appointment." "Thanks," Ginny said stiffly, flicking a glance at Harry. "In town long?" "No, no," Cho said, waving a hand, "I was in London for a conference and thought I would come up for the match. Who knew that Ravenclaw would beat the mighty Gryffindor!" Ginny smiled, showing her teeth. "It was a close game up until the Snitch was caught." Suddenly remembering Ming was present she stuck out her hand. "Congratulations, Miss Chang you're a remarkable flyer!" "Thank you, Professor Weasley," Ming said, looking between Ginny and Cho with cautious eyes as she shook Ginny's hand. "Professor Potter is a wonderful teacher!" "You're a natural, Ming," Harry said brightly. "It's a pleasure working with a student who loves to fly as much as you do." Ming nodded, then looked towards the changing room. "There's a party in our common room, so I'd better head in." She ran over to hug Cho once more. "Auntie, thank you for coming, it meant so much to me!" "Next time, we'll make sure your mum and dad come as well, Ming. Be a good girl!" Ming smiled at Ginny and Harry before dashing into the changing room, leaving the three adults alone. Ginny took a deep breath and bit the inside of her cheek. Count to ten, she thought to herselfjust count to ten. "Cho, thank you for the invitation," Harry said, turning his gaze towards Ginny, "but I do have plans for the evening." One Two "Well, I'll be in Hogsmeade through tomorrow afternoon," Cho said with a pout. "If you get a chance, I'd love to talk." ThreeFou

Suddenly, Ginny felt something burn hot in the pocket of her skirt. Hermione's coin! She glanced up and saw Harry's face stricken with the same panicked look as he dug into the pocket of his trousers. Ginny fumbled in her pocket and removed the coin. "It's Time" glowed white around the edges of the coin. "What is it?" Cho asked, frowning. "Those look like our old DA coins." "Hermione's having her baby. Harry, we've got to go," Ginny said, pocketing the coin and grabbing his hand. As they turned they saw a sooty-grey owl speeding towards them, colliding against Harry's chest guard and bouncing to the ground. Ginny watched as Harry leant down to pick up the little owl and untied the note from its leg. As he unrolled the parchment, a small quill fluttered to the ground. Ginny reached down to pick it up. As she rose to her feet she noticed Harry's ashen face. Her stomach lurched. "Harry, what is it? Who is it from?" He turned haunted eyes to her. "It's from your mum, Ginabout Hermione." She watched as he swallowed, his hand shaking as he handed her the note. "It doesn't look good." 15: St. Mungo's Author's Note, redux, 03/13/04: It's better now. It's one hell of a lot better, and it's because of Ahmie and Aibhinn. See if you can spot the changesone of them is fairly major, but it takes this chapter to an entirely different level. Thank you, ladies. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry stared at the parchment in his hand, the words leaping from the page and turning his stomach into ice. Molly's handwriting was scrawling and panicked, in no way resembling her usual elegant hand: H&GCome quickly. Hermione in trouble. Portkey enclosed. Ginny knows password. PLEASE HURRY! Molly

"Harry, what is it? Who is it from?" Ginny's voice reached him, but it seemed as though she were miles away. He blinked, clearing visions of Hermione in painbleedingdead from his eyes. She held what appeared to be a small quill in her hand, worry stamped upon her features. Swallowing, he focused on her pale face. "It's from your mum, Ginabout Hermione," he said, feeling a cold sweat forming on the top of his upper lip. He handed her the note, the parchment rattling as his hand shook. "It doesn't look good." He watched as she read the note, tears forming in her chocolate eyes. "Harry, we need to go. Now." Ginny's voice cracked with emotion as she handed the letter back to him. "Get changed quickly and we'll activate the Portkey." "Never mind changing, Gin," Harry said fiercely. "Let's go now." "What's going on?" a voice asked. It was only then that Harry remembered they had an audience. "Family emergency, Cho goodbye," he said dismissively, grabbing Ginny's free hand. "Let's go, Gin!" They ran towards a secluded section near the pitch and Ginny lost her footing as they skidded to a halt. Okayokaycalm down, Potterno sense getting both of you killed before you get there, he said to himself. Holding her steady, he clasped the free end of the quill between his fingers. "What's the password?" "Vvermillion," Ginny said, her voice trembling. Harry felt the familiar tug at his navel and a second later he was hurtling through the air. After what seemed like an eternity, his body began to slow down. His feet slammed into the pavement in front of Purge & Dowse Ltd., the clandestine entrance to St. Mungo's. He shuddered: all these years later and Portkey travel was still the most dismal mode of transportation he'd ever experienced. Ginny stumbled into him and he reached out, steadying her against his chest. "Easy now, Gin," he said softly, willing his heart to slow its panicked beating. "Let's go." They sprinted towards the crumbling brick faade, coming to a halt in front of a window display containing a hideous female dummy wearing the same green nylon pinafore dress she'd worn every other time he'd had the

displeasure of being there. He leaned close to the window. "We're here to see Hermione Weasley," he hissed. The dummy's right hand twitched, beckoning them forward. Harry clasped Ginny's hand and, together, they stepped through the glass. It felt just as he'd remembered it as though he were walking through a cascading waterfall. Reaching the other side, they stood in the reception area of a hospital emergency room filled with witches and wizards suffering from a myriad of maladies. Healers walked amongst the patients, taking notes and directing them towards the escalators. As Harry headed towards the floor map, Ginny tugged him in another direction. "Harry, come with me," Ginny said, striding towards a doorway off the main room. "We need to go over here." He looked up, reading the sign overhead: MATERNITY "Most witches opt to give birth at home," Ginny said as they walked swiftly down the corridor. "They set up this wing in the late 1800s as Muggle medical advances began to make strides away from their barbarous roots. Many medical wizards and Healers train in the Muggle medical arts, to partner those skills with their magical abilities. While we still rely on Healing Charms, sometimes it's good to have a little Muggle know-how, especially when it involves the complications that can happen with births." Harry nodded dumbly, panic clawing at his insides. "How far do we have to go?" "Not far at all," she said as they turned the corner. There, assembled before Harry's eyes, was a tableau of his past. His family. Hermione's parents, Rupert and Emma, stood with their heads close, lips moving quickly as urgent words flew between them. Harry's eyes moved slowly towards where Molly and Arthur stood, flanking Ron. Harry's chest tightened; the emotions from seeing the three of them there, within his reach, were almost too much to bear. Molly's hair had lost some of its vivid color, snow-white strands now woven amidst the red. Arthur's hair was almost

completely gone now and a comfortable paunch rested around his middle. Harry's eyes shifted to Ron, whose posture alone transmitted waves of anguish palpable even from thirty feet away. I shouldn't be here, Harry thought to himself. What on earth could I say to any of them right now? I'm just an intruder here, especially given the circumstances. I've MADE myself an intruder here. As he dug in his heels, Harry felt Ginny tug on his hand. "Harry? Come on, we've got to go," Ginny said, looking into his eyes. "It's okay. It's going to be okay." "GINNY!" Both Harry and Ginny looked down the hallway to see Molly rocketing towards them, crushing them in an embrace filled with both joy and terror. "Oh Ginny, I'm so glad you're here! And you've brought Harry!" He felt her arms tighten even more, his throat closing with emotion. She released them, raising her eyes to gaze into both of their faces, lingering the longest upon Harry's. "Mum, we came as soon as we could," Ginny said, her voice crisp. Where does she find the calm? he wondered. "Tell me what's happened." "Hermione's been in there for the past hour," Molly said, her hands twisting a handkerchief. "Ron can give you a better idea of what happened before they got here." The three of them walked as a unit over to where Ron sat. "Ron, sweetheart, Ginny's here." Ron raised his tear-streaked face in the direction of his mother's voice. Another wave of guilt trembled through Harry as Ron's eyes looked through him to connect with Ginny's. "Gin," Ron said, standing to take Ginny into his arms. "What happened, Ron?" Ginny said softly. He heaved a breath. "She slipped in the loo this morning after her shower and twisted her side. At first, she didn't think anything of it she's been feeling about as graceful as a three-footed rhino lately." He paused, his chuckle sounding more like a sob. "About an hour later, her water

brokethere was blood in the fluid, Ginso much blood." Ron raised his hands, running his fingers through his hair and creating wild pathways which, under happier circumstances, would have reminded Harry of his own crazy locks. Ginny slid her trembling hand into Harry's again, lacing their fingers together. Ron's hands dropped back into his lap and he raised his eyes to meet Ginny's once again. "It just wouldn't stop! I picked her up, put her in the car and tore over here as quickly as I could. She's been asking for you ever since we arrived. Please say you'll help!" Icy fear began to clench at Harry's insides. Hermione's bleeding? What if they can't stop it? What ifhe shook his head, clearing the images that had crept into his mind. You can't think like this, not now. Suddenly, the doors of the ward burst open and a white-clad witch strode towards them, her pace quickening as her eyes found Ginny. "Ginny, thank Merlin you're here," she said, touching Ginny on the arm. "Hello, Dana," Ginny said, nodding. "What's happening in there?" "She's experiencing some bleeding, so any help you could give us would be wonderful," Dana said briskly. "Please come with me." Harry watched as emotions chased across Ginny's face. As she nodded at Dana, he gave her hand a squeeze of encouragement. She turned to face him. "Gin, do whatever you can." She nodded, rising on tiptoe to brush a kiss across his cheek. "Say a prayer, Harry," she whispered in his ear. As she pulled away, the fear he saw in her eyes chilled him to the bone. Slipping from his arms, she gave Ron a hug and ran into the delivery room, leaving Harry alone with the family. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Arthur watched as his youngest child disappeared behind the delivery room doors, pride warring with the sheer panic that raged in his heart. He'd been in his work shed, tinkering on a mobile that he'd wanted to set up in the nursery when the coin had burned hot in his pocket. It wasn't until he'd reached the kitchen to find Molly, her fist clenched between her teeth, tears streaming down her face, that he'd experienced the first taste of fear. After scribbling notes to the rest of the family, they'd bundled up and Apparated to the hospital.

Upon their arrival, they'd found Ron, standing alone and terrified, outside of the delivery room. Arthur had embraced his son, letting him sob out his fear on his shoulder, then joined the silent vigil. It wasn't until he'd heard Molly cry out Ginny's name that his knees had turned to jelly. Harry was here. He'd looked like a man heading into battle, his Quidditch robes and gear making him seem twice as large as Arthur had remembered him. The eyes, however, were the same filled with the same insecurities and doubt as they had been the first time he'd seen them over his breakfast table. Arthur glanced up to see Harry walking towards the doors Ginny had walked through, his soulful green eyes reflected in the glass window as he watched her retreating figure. Harry seemed oblivious to his surroundings as Arthur walked over to join him by the door and jumped when the older man placed a hand on his shoulder. Arthur detected another emotion in the young man's eyes, one he'd never seen there before: shame. His throat closing, Arthur took him into his arms. "It's good to see you, Harry," he said, his voice rough with emotion. He felt Harry stiffen slightly for a moment before returning the embrace. Whatever sadness may come this day, here is a moment of joy I will cherish forever. "Hello, Mr. Weasley," Harry said tentatively, pulling back from their embrace. "Now, what's all this? It's Arthur, Harry," he said, patting him on his shoulder. "I justI mean I'm not," Harry said softly, stumbling over his words. "I'm so sorry for coming here, intruding" "Codswollop, young man!" Arthur said firmly. "You're a part of this family, Harry Potter." "I haven't been a very good member in recent years," Harry said bitterly. "Well, now is not the time to re-hash the past. You've always been welcome in our home, in our family, Harry. It's never an intrusion, you understand?" Harry nodded slowly. Still not convinced, Arthur thought to himself. But

we'll remedy that soon enough. He cocked a brow at Harry. "You do look better prepared for a tussle with Ron, though." "Oh God," Harry muttered. "I should Apparate back and change. We'd just finished the match when we got the note. I'm sorry!" Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "No apologies needed, my boy. Now, if you would be more comfortable out of all of that gear, I'm sure the hospital staff could find something else for you to wear." "No, it's okay," Harry said, unbuckling his arm guards and removing his gloves. "I'll shrink all of this stuff down for now can't Apparate back with it that way, it won't re-form properly but I can stow it in a pocket until it's time to leave. Excuse me for a moment?" Arthur nodded and Harry left his side for the nearby loo. "Arthur?" Molly's voice came from behind him. He turned to see his wife, her chocolate-brown eyes care-worn with worry. "Is he all right?" "Fine, dear," Arthur said. "Just feeling a bit awkward. He'll be back in a moment. How's Ron doing?" "Oh, Arthur, he looks hollow," she said, casting a glance towards their son, who was seated near the delivery room door with his face in his hands. "If anything happens to Hermione or their little one, I don't know what it will do to him." "Molly, dear, don't worry so," Arthur said, taking her in his arms and rocking her where they stood. "She's getting the best care available. They'll both be fine." The main doors to the ward burst open and the twins tore through the doorway, followed close behind by Bill and Fleur. "Dad, we got here as soon as we could," Bill said, out of breath. "The owl took a while to find us in Hogsmeade. What's going on?" Arthur spent the next few moments bringing them up to speed and was just finishing up when Harry came out of the loo sans protective gear, his robe folded over his arm. The twins turned to face Harry and Arthur noticed the same look of insecurity flicker in Harry's eyes at the new arrivals. Arthur nodded towards Harry, trying to give him a look of encouragement. Harry's

nod in return was nearly imperceptible as he started towards the twins and Bill. You can do this, son, Arthur thought to himself. I know you can. "Fred, GeorgeBill," Harry said, walking slowly up to them. "If you don't want me here, just say the word and I'll wait outside." Noble to a fault. "Hermione wanted you here, Harry," Arthur said firmly. "Ginny wants you here " "And we want you here," Molly said, her hand slipping into Arthur's. He smiled as he watched his wife turn her gaze to her three tardy sons. "Now I know that we all need to have a talk at some point, but now is not the time. We have to stand united for Ron and Hermione right now, and they were the ones who asked Harry to be a part of this day." Bill grimaced. "We understand, Mum." He turned to look at Harry through shuttered eyes. "Your mother is right, boys," Arthur said softly. "We're not going to make any trouble," Fred said, glancing at Bill and George. "But we will want to have a talk with you, Harry, once this is all over," George said. Fred and Bill nodded in agreement. "Fair enough," Harry nodded. "You all deserve an explanation, and once this is all over, I give you my word that you'll get one. But for now, the person I need to talk with is Ron. If you'll excuse me?" All three of the young men nodded. Arthur placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Good luck, son." Harry nodded and, with a swallow, walked to where Ron sat. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ron's stomach rolled. The day had started out perfectly. Matty had gone over to Percy and Penelope's the afternoon before to spend the night with his little cousins, giving Ron and Hermione an evening to themselves for the first time in months. They'd spent the evening watching movies and snuggling before going to bed, spooning together and gazing at the tiny

bassinet they'd placed nearby. After she'd drifted to sleep, he'd lain awake most of the night, watching her breathe and feeling the stretching movements of their child in her womb. She'd had such a hard pregnancy, the last two months of which she'd been house-bound and told to keep off her feet as much as possible. He'd woken that morning hoping that it would all be over by the end of the day. Little did he know how prophetic his thoughts would turn out to be. He would remember the sound of her scream his entire life. He'd raced to the kitchen to find her standing with a pool of fluid at her feet; fluid that had run scarlet with blood. Too much blood. Her eyes, ordinarily so full of assurance, had been filled with fear and pain. She'd cried out as the contraction had ripped through her, her hand gripped her abdomen. He'd picked her up and carried her to the living room, hurling a handful of Floo powder into the fireplace, shrieking "The Burrow!" as loudly as he'd been able to. After sticking his head into the green flames long enough to give his parents the details, he'd bundled her up in one of the afghans she'd knitted and carried her to their car. The trip to St. Mungo's had been a blur. How he'd managed to get them there in one piece had been nothing short of a miracle, and the wait outside of the delivery room before his family arrived had been torture. Thoughts of the worst-case scenarios had ricocheted through his mind until he'd felt the warm hand of his father upon the back of his neck. Then he'd given in to his fears and wept until his eyes had run dry. It was only when Ginny had arrived that he'd started to feel an inkling of hope return to his soul. He raised his head to see Harry standing next to his parents. His emotions roiled within him: memories of the hurt from the past warred with the unmitigated joy he'd experienced when Harry had strode, warrior-like, through the doors of the ward. When Hermione had told him of her desire to have Harry named as their child's godfather, it had taken him a week to get used to the idea and even then he'd only agreed because it had been clear how much it meant to her. Then, on All Saint's Day, he'd received Harry's letter, which had explained a great deal about his friend's behaviour in the months following the end of the war: his distant moods; his jumpiness; the guilt that had never made any sense until now. After reading it through twice, he'd given it to Hermione and watched as tears filled her eyes.

It was those tears of understanding that soothed his heart like a balm now. As he scrubbed at his face with his hands, he heard footsteps approaching. Raising his head, he saw Harry standing before him. Ron rose to his feet, watching as Harry tensed slightly. His body may be tense, but his eyes haven't wavered, Ron thought to himself as he met Harry's steady gaze. "Ron," Harry said, his voice a lower timbre than he'd heard before. "Listen, if you want me to go, I'll go, but before I do, I want you to know that for all that has happened over the last nine years, I was a fool ever to leave. I'm sorry." Ron's throat closed as he placed his hands on either side of Harry's neck. "Don't leave us ever again, you git," he choked out. He watched as tears filled the green eyes of his oldest and dearest friend, and dragged him into a hug that had been nine long years in coming. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny stepped into the locker room next to Hermione's delivery suite, leaning back against the door. She closed her eyes and took a steadying breath to help calm the sense of doom that had fallen onto her shoulders as she'd listened to Ron's account. It did not sound good at all. Locking the door, she started to strip out of her jumper and skirt to change into a set of whites that had been left for her. Whenever she'd worked in one of the "split wards" wards that relied on both magical and Muggle technologies she'd taken to wearing the tunic and trousers worn by the split-ward staff. It was a vast improvement over the long, cumbersome gowns required of the Healers for the other parts of the hospital. Long gowns and cloaks were fine for the halls of Hogwarts, but had no place in an operating theater. As she tied the drawstring belt of her trousers closed, she took out a comb from her cloak and, whispering a Dampening Charm, ran it through her hair in several short strokes. Setting it down, she quickly plaited the waist-long strands into a tight French braid, sliding an elastic around the end to keep it from coming undone. She ran her hands and arms under the anti-bacterial water fountain in the sink, scrubbing at them, paying particular attention to her fingernails; with the amount of grime she'd had on her hands from the pitch someone would have thought she'd been playing. I'll have to scrub

again, I'm sure, she thought, but I can't go into Hermione's room looking like a Chaser who got ploughed. Twice. When she was done, she raised them stiffly, letting the water drip down to the floor below. Taking a deep breath, she prepared herself mentally for whatever she would have to face once she walked through the door. I'm so scared, but I have to do this, she thought to herself. I need to do this for Hermione, Ron and the baby. I need to do whatever I can to help. "Please, let us be able to save them," she muttered out loud. She pressed her back against the door, letting her body weight carry it open to protect her hands from contamination, and stood in front of the delivery suite. Whatever scene Ginny had imagined she'd see upon entering the room didn't compare to what she actually found. In the bed lay Hermione, very pale, crying and breathing with shallow breaths. Her bushy brown hair lay in a mass of tangles surrounding her head. A bag of intravenous solution hung from a bag next to the bed. IV saline, Ginny thought to herself, her anxiety increasing. Blood-soaked towels lay at the foot of the bed in a heap on the floor from where the Healers had tried to clean up a bit apparently, standard cleaning charms had not been able to take care of all of the blood. The Healer-in-charge stood at the foot of the bed with his wand drawn, muttering what appeared to be charms to get Hermione's bleeding under control. Ginny knew from her own Healer training that Hermione would have to be monitored closely during and after delivery to make sure her hemoglobin level didn't drop too low from all the blood loss. If she lost too much, they might have to do a Muggle-style transfusion. "Ginny!" Hermione's voice, filled with fear, brought Ginny out of her thoughts. Rushing up to the bed, Ginny took her sister-in-law's hand. "I'm here, Hermione. Everything's going to be okay. Looks like we're going to meet that little one of yours very soon." "I'm so scared," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks as she looked at Ginny. "My labour and delivery with Matthew was hard, but nothing like this. There's just so much blood. What's gone wrong? Is my baby okay?" "I'm sure everything will be fine," Ginny said, running her cool fingers along Hermione's sweat-covered brow. "Healer Mueller has everything under control. I'm sure that he's been monitoring the baby closely."

"Is Harry here?" Hermione said, her hand gripping Ginny's free hand tightly. "Did he come with you?" "Yes, Harry's here. He's in the waiting room with the rest of the family," Ginny gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Your parents are here, too. Mum sent for them as soon as she found out that there was trouble." Hermione's breath caught as she shut her eyes against the pain of a contraction. The hand that wasn't holding Ginny's grabbed at the bed sheet covering her, balling it in her fist. "Breathe, Hermione," Ginny said, strengthening her grip on Hermione's other hand. "Do you remember the breathing techniques you were shown?" Hermione nodded and began to breathe deeply in through her nose and out through her mouth. About forty-five seconds after it had started, the contraction had passed. "How close together are they?" Ginny asked, willing her voice to be soothing. "About five minutes apart." Hermione panted. "They're getting harder." "You know you need to concentrate and breathe through them, right?" Ginny said, reaching for a glass filled with ice chips and spooning some between Hermione's lips. "I know, I know. But that's easier said than done when you're going through them," Hermione said, a smile teasing her weary eyes as she took a deep breath. Ginny felt relief it was clear Hermione was calmer. Keeping her calm was key in keeping her blood pressure down. Lower blood pressure meant less blood loss. "I'm sure things will be fine, Hermione," she said as she smiled at her sisterin-law, stroking her matted hair. "If the Healer-in-charge says its okay, would you like your mum to come back to see you?" "Oh, Ginny, that would be wonderful!" Ginny's heart lifted Hermione's eyes sparkled for the first time since she'd walked through the door. "Could you ask, please?"

"Of course," Ginny smiled, stroking her forehead. "I'm going to talk to him for a moment, but I'll be right back." Ginny walked over to the Healer-in-charge, who was writing notes in Hermione's medical record. "I'm Ginny Weasley. I'm a licensed Healer with a specialty in Charms and also Mrs. Weasley's sister-in-law," Ginny said, offering her hand. "I was asked to assist in the delivery. How is she doing?" "I'm Stuart Mueller," he said, shaking her hand. "Pleased to have you on board, Miss Weasley, but please call me Stuart. May I call you Ginny?" Ginny nodded. "Mrs. Weasley has lost a lot of blood, Ginny," Stuart said with a frown. "We have been able to control it with Cesso Cruor, but I believe she is suffering from placenta abruptio. The placenta has started to pull away from the uterus prematurely, causing the excessive bleeding. I've tried Sano Placenta to repair the tear, but I'm not sure the charm fixed it completely." "What about another healing charm, such as Consuo Laceratio?" Ginny said, her mind racing. "That one, like Sano Placenta, tends to work only for small separations, and judging by the amount of blood loss she has had, I'd say hers is quite large." Stuart sighed, glancing over his shoulder at his patient one more time. "The blood loss seems to have diminished somewhat, so I think the charms have worked at least to help with that." "Did her pregnancy-induced hypertension and gestational diabetes play into this happening to her?" Ginny asked. Her mind filtered through the encyclopedia of charms she'd studied during her medical training. "Absolutely. Women with either of these conditions are more likely to develop this complication. Since Mrs. Weasley had both, that certainly increased her chances." Pausing, Stuart looked at Ginny. "I believe we need to get her delivered quickly. The baby is currently not in jeopardy because of the repair to the placenta and uterine wall, but I don't want Mrs. Weasley to lose much more blood. Do you have any maternity experience?"

"Not much, really," Ginny said, her stomach pitching slightly. "I worked here at St. Mungo's for three years as a Healer, primarily on the Magical Reversals Ward. I did have maternity and neonatal training while in school and would occasionally come to maternity if there was a severe hemorrhage." Ginny glanced over at Hermione, who was currently breathing through another contraction. "Will the delivery be by c-section, then?" "Yes," Stuart said definitively. "That is the quickest and safest course of action for both mother and baby. It's more Muggle medicine than wizarding, but sometimes in these situations, using Muggle medicine is necessary." "What can I do to assist with the delivery?" Ginny said, lacing her fingers together, stretching them to limber them up. "I'll be concentrating on the Muggle medicine aspect of the delivery. I would like for you to concentrate on the wizarding aspect, Ginny," Stuart said, glancing at his patient once again. "Administer any charms necessary for healing, monitor the child, and assist me, if I need it. We'll need a couple more Healers in here to assist." "One more question," Ginny said. "Mrs. Weasley would like to know if her mum can come in for a visit before we start?" Stuart's eyes softened. "I think that's a good idea. She's stable at this point, and her mum might help calm her a bit. What about her husband?" "Ron's none too keen on blood, but I'm certain he'd want the chance to see her if he could," Ginny said, sagely. "I'll ask him if he wants to come in here. I'll be back in a moment." She quickly left the room and headed to the waiting area. Upon her arrival, she was surprised to see three more of her brothers had joined the group congregated along the corridor. Nothing, however, surprised her more than seeing Harry in an embrace with Ron. "Ginny!" Emma Granger said, rising from the bench. Ginny jumped, swiping at the sudden tears that had sprung to her eyes with inpatient fingers. Now isn't the time to get all sentimental, Weasley, she thought to herself.

"How is she?" Ron asked as he rushed up to his sister, with Harry on his heels. "Is the baby here yet?" Harry reached out to take her into his arms, and as inviting as a hug from Harry sounded right now, Ginny she shook her head, holding up her hands to stop him. "Sorry, Harry, I can't," she said sadly, watching him skid to a stop. "I've already got to scrub again as it is and if anyone touches me, I'll have to change my clothes again as well and we don't have time for that." Ginny turned to Ron. "No, the baby isn't here yet. Hermione's currently stable. She's lost a lot of blood and is very pale, but she's holding her own at this point." "Do they know what happened yet?" Harry asked, concern written all over his face. "It appears that the placenta has pulled away from her uterus, causing the severe bleeding," Ginny said softly, watching as Harry reached out to grip Ron's bicep in support. "The Healer-in-charge, Stuart Mueller, has controlled the bleeding and thinks he has repaired the placenta." "Isis the baby okay?" Ron asked, clearly shaken by the news. "At this point, yes," Ginny said, quickly nodding. "Healer Mueller has monitored the baby, and he or she appears fine. We will be delivering soon, though, and it will be by caesarean section. We don't want either Hermione or the baby to go back into distress." Ginny paused and turned to face the Grangers. "Emma, Hermione has asked for you to come back and see her." Emma nodded and started to follow Ginny into the delivery room. "Ginny, if it's all right, maybe your mum could come, too?" Emma asked. Molly rose to her feet to join Emma, their hands clasping together. "She can stay close to me and explain what's being done to Hermione, since I haven't a clue about wizarding medicine." "Yes, of course. I'm sure the Healer won't mind. Ron, do you want to come back and see Hermione before the delivery? I will warn you, there is a lot of blood. The cleansing charms administered haven't been able to clean it all." "It's okay. I want to see her," Ron said, nodding quickly. He looked to Harry with eyes full of uncertainty. Harry nodded briefly, a stoic look on his face

and a supporting hand under Ron's elbow, as if to catch him should he start to fall. "Very well," Ginny said, her voice strained with emotion. Calm, Ginny thought to herself, willing back tears. You have to stay calm. She took a deep breath and blinked several times to clear her eyes. Taking one last look at Harry, she motioned forward. "Please follow me." As they entered the foyer to the delivery room Ginny handed each of the visitors a set of scrubs to change into and gave them instructions for washing their hands. Once everyone was swaddled in Healer-green scrubs, she again warned everyone about the amount of blood present. Opening the door, Ron's face turned white, the freckles along the bridge of his nose turning black against his skin. She caught a flicker of movement and saw Harry put his free hand behind Ron's back, clearly bracing to catch him should he start to go down. "Are you all right, Ron?" Ginny asked. His nod in response was sharp and quick. "Oh my," mumbled Molly, taking a sharp breath. "You certainly were right, dear." Emma and Molly approached Hermione, who was talking with Stuart. "Mum!" Hermione cried out, her eyes filling with tears. "Thank goodness you're here. You, too, Molly. And HarryRon!" she sobbed gently as she said her husband's name. Ron walked forward, leaning close to kiss his wife tenderly on the lips. "Absolutely, sweetheart. I wouldn't miss my girl giving birth," Emma said, smiling at her daughter. "Looks like we're going to have a new baby soon." "Healer Mueller and I were just discussing that. He feels that even though I wanted a vaginal delivery like last time, a caesarean would be better suited for this situation. Especially considering the bleeding I'm having." Hermione paused. "I agree with him, 100 percent. I researched vaginal and caesarean sections with both pregnancies, and I want what is best for me and our baby."

"For Merlin's sake, Mione," Ron grimaced, "now's not the time for a dissertation!" He cocked a half-grin at her and brushed a curl of hair off her brow. "I'm glad you agree with me," chuckled Stuart. He raised serious eyes to the parties assembled. "Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I want you to realize the risks involved with the type of ailment you have. Placenta abruptio is a very serious condition, and although the bleeding is currently under control, there's no way to know if it will stay under control while we do the delivery." He paused, and Ginny knew he was struggling with what he had to say. "There is a possibility that you could hemorrhage while we are operating, and it might be necessary for us to remove your uterus." "Wha-what?" Ron said, his hand tightening on Hermione's. Hermione closed her eyes, a tear streaking from between her lashes. Ginny's heart ached for them both and she saw Harry swallow hard as he clearly tried to control his own emotions. "Mr. Weasley, if your wife's health is in jeopardy, I may have to perform a hysterectomy." "What are the chances that will happen?" asked Emma, clearly shocked by the news. "I'm not sure, to be honest. Given Hermione's pre-existing problems, the chances might be higher." Stuart glanced down at his patient before he continued. "We want to do what's best for both mum and baby. I just want to prepare you, in case this happens." "Oh, Hermione," whispered Molly, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I'm so sorry, dear. I hope they don't have to do this." "Me, too, sweetheart," Emma said, her voice trembling as she took her daughter's free hand. "Your health and the health of the baby are the most important factors here and if they have to perform something as drastic as a hysterectomy, then they have to. But I know you and Ron wanted to have more children as well." She gazed into her daughter's eyes, tears trembling on her lashes. "Everybody, listen," Hermione said, her voice clear and strong. "I've read about this complication. I had a feeling that was what may have happened,

but I didn't want to worry any of you until it was confirmed by a Healer." Ginny watched as her sister-in-law looked at each of the family members surrounding her. "I thoroughly trust Healer Mueller and I certainly trust Ginny. I'm sure neither will do anything as rash as performing a hysterectomy unless it's absolutely necessary," Hermione reasoned. Taking a deep breath, she continued. "After all, my greatest concern is the baby. As long as the baby survives, they can have my uterus." Ginny looked over at Ron, who was openly crying. Harry had switched the position of his hands from Ron's back and elbow to one offering more emotional support, with his left hand gripping the tense muscles at Ron's shoulder and the other his friend's bicep. "But dear, you heard your mumyou won't be able to have any more children if they " Molly began. "No, really. It's all right. Like I said, I've read about complications in pregnancy and delivery where a hysterectomy might be needed. I'm prepared for that." Ginny watched as Hermione gathered her courage and turned her face towards Stuart. "Do whatever's necessary to save me and the baby." She paused in thought for a moment. "I do have one other question." "Yes, Hermione?" Stuart asked. "Will I be awake for the procedure?" "Your sister-in-law will administer a numbing charm to your lower body, in order to be able to proceed with the delivery, so you will be awake for that part. If we have to remove your uterus, we'll probably place you under mild anesthetic, if possible. But you will know before you go to sleep if we have to remove it or not." "Okay," she said determinedly. "When do we start?" "I'll let you visit for a few more minutes, while Ginny and I prepare our team for delivery. When we come back, we will have to ask your family to return to the waiting room." Ginny smiled at the women and squeezed Ron's free hand. She looked over Ron's shoulder and her eyes caught Harry's, which were bright green and shimmering with unshed tears. She felt something shift and open inside her,

a part of herself she'd held close and protected since his leaving nine years ago. Nodding silently, she followed Stuart out of the room. In the surgical preparation room, Ginny prepared herself for what laid ahead of her, mentally rifled through her mental encyclopedia of charms in order to prepare for the delivery yet again. There was, of course, Cesso Cruor to control excessive bleeding and Sano Seco for healing of the incision. She could possibly need a couple neonatal charms, such as Pulmo Purgo and Purgo Respiratio if the baby's breathing was distressed. If all else failed, she would try the extremely difficult Vivificus Spiritus charm she'd learned in Rouen life-restoring breath, similar to the Muggle practice of cardiopulmonary resuscitation, but more reliable if spoken within a second or two of death. Ginny paused as she scrubbed for surgery, dazed by the thought that had, just now, stormed into her brain: I'm going to deliver my niece or nephew! Not many people are able to do that. I just hope that the baby and Hermione will be fine. Once the appropriate equipment and Healers were assembled, Stuart and Ginny returned, scrubbed and ready to go. As they donned their gloves, Hermione bid both her mother and mother-in-law good-bye, as she breathed through another contraction. Ginny smiled as she saw Ron press a kiss onto Hermione's forehead before he brought his gaze up to meet hers. "Do whatever you have to, Gin," Ron said, his eyes filled with tears. "I can't live without her." Ginny nodded, tears quaking on her lashes as she watched Harry guide Ron through the doors. Taking another deep breath, she squeezed her eyelids shut several times to clear her eyes once again before walking over to where Hermione lay. "Okay, Hermione," Ginny said, pasting a smile on her face. "The first thing I'm going to do is apply a numbing charm to your abdomen. I'll administer the charm by placing my wand on your spine, then on your belly. This is perfectly safe for the baby and is very similar to the charm you had when you delivered Matthew. I'll help you roll onto your right side." As Ginny brought Hermione's left shoulder up, she noticed the bed sheets that had been under her hips were saturated with bright crimson blood the

bleeding had returned with a vengeance. "Stuart, come quickly. She's bleeding again!" Ginny called out, swallowing the fear that had risen in her throat. Stuart hurried to the bedside. "Dammit," he said, concern marking his features. "We need to get this delivery done. Now." "What's wrong?" Hermione asked over her shoulder, fear returning to her voice. "Is something wrong with the baby?" Stuart was quiet for a moment, his wand pressed upon Hermione's swollen abdomen. "The baby's heart rate has dropped quite a bit," he said with a frown. "We need to proceed quickly." "I'mI'm feeling quitelight-headed," Hermione said, her voice beginning to slur. "What's happening?" Ginny lay Hermione supine onto the table and rested her hand against her brow. "Hermione, listened to me. You're light-headed from the blood loss. Stay with us here," she begged, trying to remain calm for Hermione's sake. "We'll get this done quickly, and you'll have your new baby in your arms." "I don't know," Hermione whispered, her eyes fluttering closed. "I'm so tired" "Stuart, she's passing out!" Ginny cried. Hermione's hand slid limply from her abdomen. Ginny experienced a moment of panic she'd never faced before in her life. You can't do this now, Ginny screamed to herself. Not now! "Healer Mueller, her BP is crashing!" Dana cried, her eyes frantic. "Dammit!" Stuart hissed. He moved to position himself near the surgical instruments. "We need to proceed now. Have you applied the numbing charm?" "Not yet; I'll be done in a moment." Throwing gentleness to the wind, Ginny shifted Hermione onto her side, placing her wand tip at the base of her spine. "Subsisto Tactus!" she muttered. She then moved her wand to around the front of Hermione's abdomen and muttered the charm again.

"Done, Stuart. What's next?" "I need you here beside me, so that when I deliver the baby you can take it." Ginny moved to where Stuart had indicated and observed as he made the incision through Hermione's belly and uterine wall. A tiny, blood-matted head slid through the opening into Stuart's hands. He quickly lifted the baby out of her womb and handed it to Ginny. "I need to cut the umbilical cord, then you can take the child over to the cot." A Healer tied off the umbilical cord and slid a pair of scissors into Stuart's hands. He gave a steady cut, freeing the baby from its mother. "Ginny, it looks like you have a niece!" Stuart placed the all-too-quiet infant into her hands. She held the baby as another Healer wrapped a blanket around the small bundle. The baby's face was pale blue and she wasn't crying. Fearful, Ginny raced over to a small, heated table, placed the baby down and muttered the diagnostic charm. Just as she suspected there was a bit of fluid on the baby's lungs. She placed her wand on the tiny infant's chest. "Plume Purge! Purgo Respiratio!" she cried. The baby was surrounded by a gentle peach-colored light. As the light faded, the baby began breathing normally, turning a healthy shade of pink before opening her mouth to unleash an ear-splitting wail. "Well, hello to you too, little one," Auntie Ginny said softly, wrapping the baby in a heat-charmed blanket before picking her up. More relieved than she'd ever been in her entire life, Ginny smiled. "I wonder what your mum and dad plan on calling you," she cooed to the baby, marveling over her tiny, trembling hands. Cradling her niece close to her, she began to calm the baby down, muttering a silent prayer of thanksgiving for her goddaughter's safe arrival. She's so small, so perfect, so innocent, Ginny thought. I wonder if I will ever get the opportunity to experience the birth of my own child with someone I love. Unbidden, an image flashed into her mind: lying on a bed, her hair sweat-stained and bedraggled, her arms holding a tiny bundle of wriggling baby, capped with jet-black hair. Harry, standing beside the bed with tears streaming down his cheeks and a smile to shame the sun. "Ginny, if the baby's all right, could you give me a hand here?" The frantic tone of Stuart's voice cut through her thoughts. Her cheeks red from her

visions, she handed the baby to one of the Healers, who began to clean her up as Ginny rushed to Stuart's side. "What's the problem?" Ginny asked, fearful that she already knew what the answer would be. "I've never seen anything quite like this," Stuart panted, using his hands to press on the inside of Hermione's uterus. "After delivering the baby and the placenta, the bleeding continued in the uterus." He raised his eyes, and Ginny was terrified to see the fear that swarmed in Stuart's eyes. "She's hemorrhaging, Ginny; severely hemorrhaging. We have to get this stopped or we'll lose her." Ginny grabbed her wand from the surgical tray. "Do you want me to try Cesso Cruor?"" "Yes, try that. If a healing charm won't work, we'll have to remove the uterus," Stuart said frantically. "She can't afford to lose too much more blood. We'll probably have to transfuse her as it is. Try the charm, while I have my hands over the bleeding." Ginny pointed her wand inside Hermione's uterus. "Cesso Cruor!" she cried. Slowly Stuart tried to remove his hands, but the bleeding continued. "Let me try anotherI'll try to heal the placental wound," Ginny said. Stuart pressed against Hermione's uterus again. "Sano Seco!" she cried, and a white light shot from her wand towards the wound. As it cleared, she was relieved the bleeding had slowed. Seconds later, however, it started flowing again. Looking at Ginny, Stuart said, "Ever seen a Muggle hysterectomy?" "Nope, but I'm guessing I will today," Ginny said sadly as she lowered her wand. "Absolutely," Stuart said, leaning over to let one of the Healers mop his brow. "Once I take care of removing the uterus, perform Cesso Cruor to control the bleeding. If it doesn't work, I'll have to do some old-fashioned Muggle stitching."

Ginny placed her hands over the hemorrhage while he lifted the uterus from Hermione's abdominal cavity. Once it was free, Ginny removed her hands, placed the tip of her wand into the opening and began to mutter the charm. Moments later, a tentative smile crossed her face. "It appears to be working. I think it's stopping," Ginny said, leaning back slightly to allow Dana to wipe her forehead, relief spreading across her face. Within ten minutes, all sign of bleeding had stopped. "Thank Merlin," Stuart said with a tired sigh. "Let's get the incision taken care of, infuse a couple units of blood, and perform a couple good pain relief charms. Then we'll try to revive her." Working side by side, Stuart and Ginny performed the necessary healing charms on Hermione's abdomen and started the infusion. Once the other charms were in place, Ginny muttered "Ennervate." Slowly, Hermione began to blink her eyes open. "What happened?" she whispered, looking up at Ginny. "You passed out right before delivery, Hermione," Ginny said, looking into Hermione's eyes. "The baby's fine. Would you like to meet your daughter?" "Daughter? I havea daughter?" Hermione asked, looking with surprise at her sister-in-law. Ginny laughed, which gave her shivers it was nice to laugh again. "Yes, a gorgeous daughter, ready to wrap her daddy around her little finger, I'd say." Pausing, she turned to the cot and picked up the tiny, now-sleeping bundle and handed her to Hermione. Hermione looked down at the tiny girl with her shock of strawberry-blonde hair, sleeping quite peacefully. Hermione sighed. "She's beautiful." "Yes she is, considering my git of a brother had a hand in making her," Ginny said, touching the top of the baby's head with her index finger. "I'll go get him in a minute, but first, you should know that we had to perform the hysterectomy, Hermione." She paused, gazing intently into the other woman's eyes. "I'm so sorry."

A tear trickled down Hermione's face to fall into her sweat-stained hair. "It's OKreally, it's OK," she said, nodding quickly. "Little Charlotte is here, safe and sound, and has a mum, dad, a big brother and a huge mound of other Weasleys to love her." "Charlotte?" Ginny blurted, feeling tears of her own prickle the backs of her eyes. Hermione beamed. "Charlotte Alexandraafter her Uncle Charlie." Ginny felt tears of joy and sorrow stream down her face as she leant down to press a kiss on little Charlotte's tiny brow. "Your Uncle Charlie would have loved you." With a final grasp of Hermione's hand, she smiled. "I'll go get the git." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It had seemed like hours. Harry brought his hand up to squeeze the back of his neck in a vain attempt to relieve some of the tension that had gathered there since his arrival at the hospital. When they had come back through the doors of the delivery room, a feeling of dread unlike any Harry had experienced since the closing days of the war washed over him like an icy river. "Molly?" Arthur had asked, effectively bringing all of the muffled conversations to a halt. Molly's face had been covered with tears and she'd wept openly. "Merlin, what happened? Is she" "She's okay," Emma had said, drying her tears on the handkerchief her husband had handed her. "Well, not okay, but she will be. They have to do a cesarean section, but there arecomplications." "What kind of complications?" Arthur had asked as he'd wrapped his arms around his wife. "She may not be able to have any more children. She may have to have a hysterectomy," Ron had said, his voice hoarse with emotion as he'd slid down the wall onto the bench, cradling his face in his hands. Still numb with shock, Harry had walked over to where Ron sat, the redhead's sobs wracking his broad shoulders. Sliding down next to him, he'd

placed a hand on Ron's knee. There had been a momentary hesitation before Harry had felt one of Ron's hands come away from his face to grasp his own. United in fear, they'd sat, shoulder to shoulder and unspeaking, for the rest of the silent vigil. Suddenly, the doors of the delivery room burst open revealing a weary, blood-spattered Ginny Weasley. "Ron, everybody," Ginny said, her voice sounding tired and strained. "Hermione and the baby are fine. You've a beautiful baby girl, Ron," she said, smiling down into his eyes. Ron leapt to his feet and grabbed her in his arms, spinning around like a mad top. Harry rose shakily to his feet, feeling as though he could breathe again for the first time in hours. "Oh, thank Merlin!" Molly cried, throwing her arms around Arthur. Cheers and sobs of joy echoed in the hallway. Harry turned, resting his head against the cool, white tiles lining the walls and swallowing the lump that had been in his throat since they'd received the owl. He willed his knees to cease their shaking, letting Ginny's words run again and again through his head. They had a baby girl! A beautiful, healthy baby girl! "Ron! Ron!" Fred's voice yelled, drawing Harry's attention. Ron set Ginny back onto the ground. "What's the baby's name? You've kept it a secret all this time!" Ron smiled, his joy palpable to everyone assembled. "Her name is Charlotte Alexandra Weasley." This time, tears filled the eyes of everyone present. As Harry watched Ron being swept into an embrace by the Grangers, he felt a small hand slip into his own. He turned and found Ginny smiling up at him. "Ginny," he said, wrapping his arms around her. "You're a miracle worker, you are." Her arms circled his waist and clung. "Harry, I was so frightened," she whispered tremulously into his ear. "So many things could have gone wrong." "But they didn't, Gin," he said, leaning back to look into her eyes. "They didn't, and thanks to you they've got their daughter!" He pressed a kiss

along her brow, his heart filled with more joy than he'd ever imagined. As he pulled back, he could see that, while she was happy, there was a note of caution around her eyes. "What is it, Gin? What happened?" He saw tears filling her eyes and he knew. "Oh nono, you had to" She nodded. "I have to tell him, Harry." Her fingers tightened on his forearms. "Wait for me? I've loads of paperwork I need to attend to, but first I have to tell him." "I'll be here," he said, giving her upper arms a gentle squeeze. "I'll be waiting right here." She smiled and, taking a deep breath, let go of his arms to walk over to where Ron stood with their parents. Three hours later, Harry sat with his head leaning back against the tiles, his Quidditch gear back on for the return trip to Hogwarts. The Weasleys had all either left the hospital or were in the recovery room with the new addition and her parents. Before he'd headed upstairs, Ron had taken Harry aside for a moment. "Harry, thank you for being here," Ron had said, the bittersweet news from the delivery room in no way dimming the happiness that had shone from his eyes. "I know we've got to talkmaybe in a couple of weeks?" "I've got Sundays free for the most part, but I'll owl you and let you know for sure," Harry'd said. "And, if you'd like, and she's free, please bring Gin along as well," Ron had added. "No more secrets." "None," he'd promised. Now, as he leaned forward, the doors of the delivery room swung open again and Ginny came out dressed in the clothes she'd worn earlier. Harry was glad she'd changed; seeing her in her scrubs had been unnerving, as though she were a stranger. She was now talking to the Healer-in-charge he'd seen in the delivery room, who had warned them that Hermione might need a hysterectomy. "Harry? I'd like for you to officially meet Stuart Mueller, Hermione's Healer and champion of the day," Ginny said with a tired smile.

"Oh, Ginny, you were the one who was the champion today," Stuart said as took Harry's hand. "She's one of the most talented and gifted witches I've ever had the pleasure to work with. Without her skills, we could have had a much different outcome." Harry turned his gaze to Ginny, who now sported a lovely rose-colored blush on her cheeks. "In any event, I need to get home," Stuart said. "Ginny, if you ever decide that teaching is not for you, I would be honored to have you on my team any day." "Thank you for the offer, Stuart," Ginny said, smiling, her eyes fixed onto Harry's. "But I've found my home." The intensity of her gaze raised color on Harry's cheeks for a moment as his body hummed to life. Stuart turned and walked down the hallway, leaving the two of them alone. Harry cleared his throat. "Is there anything else you need to do here?" "No, I'm finished," she said. "Take me home." Ten minutes later, they arrived at the Apparition Point in Hogsmeade. They walked up towards the castle in silence, their breath turning to mist in the chill of the night air. Their steps echoed in the hallways once they entered the castle, and still they remained silent. It wasn't until they neared the corridor leading to Ginny's suite that Harry broke the silence. "How did Ron take the news?" Ginny stopped, wrapping her cloak tightly around her shoulders. "He was disappointed, but I don't think the realities of the situation will sink in until later." She glanced up at Harry. "He's over the moon over little Charlotte. Did you see her?" Harry nodded. "I had a chance to see her as they were taking Hermione upstairs. She'sexquisite." He thought about how tired and pale Hermione had looked, how tiny Charlotte's hands were. He remembered the promise he'd made both Ron and Hermione he'd be seeing them in two weeks at their place in London.

Suddenly, the events of the day seemed to domino in on him. A vast weight seemed to crack apart, falling off of his chest and shoulders and he started to laugh, a deep, joyful laugh of the truly happy. It felt as though he were laughing for the first time in a millennium. He reached down and picked Ginny up around her waist, squeezing her tightly against his chest as the laughter rolled from him. Her eyes, shocked at first, filled with tears of joy as peals of her laughter joined his as they spun in a giddy circle. It was several moments before he stopped their spinning and set her feet back down onto the ground. His eyes sparkled with unshed tears as his hands came up to stroke Ginny's face. "Gin, I feel" he said, his brain scanning for words to describe what was going on in his heart. "I feelI feel, Ginny. After so many years, the guilt over what I'd done to the Malfoys, the pain of leaving you and your familyit's as though it was lifted from me, if only for a moment, to let me feel again." He swiped at an errant tear that had slipped through his lashes. "For todaytonight, I feel whole again." He searched her eyes. "Can you know what I mean?" "Yes, Harry," Ginny said, solemnity filling her eyes, "I understand exactly what you mean." She stepped out of his arms and held out her hand. "Come feel with menow." 16: The Talk A/N #1: The outtake, set between the end of Ch 15 and the start of Ch 16, is posted at TheBroomCupboard.net. You must be 17 years of age or older to access that site. I do think, however, that if you are not able to access the site, you'll understand what has happened. This chapter is dedicated to Annissa Simone and her parents. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The rays of the mid-morning sun blazed through Ginny's closed eyelids as she slowly came awake. Groggier than she'd been in ages, she peered at the clock on her mantle. It was nearing ten in the morning, and she needed to get up and start her Sunday morning routine of reviewing reports from the Gryffindor prefects. As she made to shift the covers from her body, she became cognizant of the heavy weight of Harry's arm circling her waist and flushed with the memories they'd created in the night.

And in the morning. She felt as though her entire body glowed in the darkness of her bed. Lord, she'd acted like a wanton. Harry's arm tightened around her waist as he shifted to spoon against her body. As he moved, he stirred the scent of their lovemaking which had clung to the bedclothes, and she barely contained the shudder of longing that wracked her body. If you intend on getting anything done at all today, you'd better get up now, she thought to herself. She gently shifted from underneath his arm and gingerly moved the covers back to free herself. As she swung her legs over the side of the bed, she winced slightly; the muscles along the inside of her thighs were stiff and sore. Another flush tinted her cheeks this slight discomfort was one more reminder of their night together that she knew she would carry for days. She padded over to the wardrobe and took out her dressing gown to conceal her nakedness. Once covered, she turned to look at the man who'd shared her bed the night before. He'd turned onto his stomach, the sheet creeping down until it rested at the small of his back. While his summer's tan was beginning to fade, the contrast between his skin and the whiteness of her sheets was thrilling, more erotic than she could have ever imagined. His hair was a wild tangle of jet strands rioting over the pillow and she could still remember how they'd felt slipping through her fingers. How his back, wellmuscled and lean, had shivered as she embraced him during their joining. She was on the verge of casting off her dressing gown to crawl back into the bed next to him when she almost tripped over Peri. "Dammit!" she hissed, glaring at her cat, who had planted himself directly in front of her while she'd been preoccupied. "What do you want?" He blinked, turned his head to look at the bed and sniffed in what had to have been distain. "God, just what I need," she said as she stooped to pick him up. "A jealous cat." She scratched him under his chin and he closed his eyes, his whiskers twitching with pleasure. "I know, it's sudden," she said as she walked into the en suite with him in her arms, "and I don't know if I should say get used to it' quite yet, but things are going to change around here, Peri." With a final scratch under his chin, she set him down on the counter top, poured a

dishful of water and set it down next to him. Peri purred like a freight train, gave her a sturdy head-butt and leaned down to drink. As she stepped into the shower, the ramifications of the past twenty-four hours began to crystallize in her mind. She acknowledged she'd rushed things. If they'd been able to stick to their plans to go to Hogsmeade after the match, they wouldn't have wound up back here. She would have kissed him blind, of course, but that would have been that. Instead, she'd allowed the emotions she'd felt during the crisis at St. Mungo's to sway her habitually-rational mind. And oh, how she'd been swayed. What on earth must he think of her now? She was midway through washing her hair when she heard the door open. She peered over the top of the shower door and saw him smiling in at her. His hair was a wild tangle and his glasses which had stayed on all night, she remembered with a tingle were slightly askew on the bridge of his nose. She willed her eyes to stay fixed on his face as he walked up to the glass door. Merlin, it should be illegal for a man to look this good so early in the morning. "Good morning, minx" Harry said, his voice scratchy from lack of use. Ginny felt her cheeks color at the term. She could get to like it very much. "Can I join you?" "Uhum" she stammered, "I really need to get this soap out of my hair. Why don't you start a fire, and I'll be out in just a moment, please?" She flashed him what she hoped had been a convincing smile. Her heart twisted as a furrow appeared between his brows. After a moment's hesitation, he returned her smile, although it didn't quite reach his eyes. "All right, Ginny," he said quietly. He ran the tip of his finger down her cheek before turning and exiting the room. "What a mess," she muttered to herself and slid back underneath the warm spray of the shower. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When Harry had woken to the sound of the shower running, he'd smiled. He knew better than to hope for a reprise of their time inside the en suite earlier that morning, but a man could dream. He'd risen, stretching his back and lightly scratching his belly, which had groaned rather loudly: he was ravenous. Well, it was a busy night, he'd thought to himself, warmth flooding his cheeks. He'd looked around the room a bit in the hopes of finding something to snack on but had only come across some of Peri's kibble. He wasn't that hungry. He'd thought of having Dobby bring them a tray of toast, tea and fruit, but as tempting as that thought had been, he figured Ginny would flay him alive if he had. But, he'd mused, it wouldn't hurt to ask. Wrapping the top sheet from the bed around his waist, he'd tip-toed over to the partially-opened door and peered inside. He'd swallowed, seeing the shadowy silhouette of her body through the glass door, her hair a mass of soapy curls atop her head. Whatever his best intentions had been, his body had had the nerve to tighten in response. "I am a hound," he'd muttered to himself as he pushed the door open. Her eyes had met his, deep brown, surprised, slightly aroused, but troubled. Seconds later, her words had gone on to confirm his suspicions: she was having misgivings. Now, seated in the chair next to the fireplace, he thought about their night together. To be completely honest, their lovemaking had exceeded any fantasy he may have ever had. If anything, it had confirmed that his feelings for her had grown deeper over the years they'd been apart and that he was right to return. During the hours he'd spent at the hospital, he'd begun to glimpse the possibility of a future with her, with her family. If only he were given a chance. He thought about the look he'd just seen in Ginny's eyes and knew he should have had the sense not to accept her offer last night. But he'd been thinking with his heart and your hormones, a little voice prodded not his head. He just hoped she wouldn't turn him away. Not now. He was startled from his thoughts by a glimmer of movement out of the corner of his eye. He whipped his head around to find Periwinkle walking

towards him, tail high in the air. Harry followed the cat's progress until he jumped up to sit on the arm of the overstuffed chair to glare at him. He remembered Peri's grumble from the night before and decided to tread carefully. "Hello, Periwinkle," Harry offered, raising his hand to stroke the cat's sleek black coat. Periwinkle growled, his eyes narrowed to slits. Harry froze. So much for being careful. Time to change tactics. He removed his hand and turned to face the cat. "All right, then. You and I were friends, Peri. That, I know, because you always said hello to me at meals and I've seen you skulking around the Astronomy Tower a time or two." Peri continued to glare. "Fine," he said softly, leveling the cat's glare with his own. "I also know you're fairly annoyed with me because I probably interrupted your normal sleep routine, but you should know I'll not apologize for it." Peri sat up a little straighter, his eyes widening. Harry had to chew the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. He cast a glance at the door to the en suite and leaned closer to the cat. "The truth is I love your mistress very much, but it will take some time before she trusts me enough to love me in return. I hurt her terribly once. I don't intend on doing so ever again." Peri blinked twice. "I'm out of my mind," Harry muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Sitting here talking to a cat." He looked at Peri again and shrugged. "Give me a chance?" Peri chirped once and bashed Harry in the nose with a head-butt, sending his glasses skittering across the floor. "Bloody hell!" Harry yelped, seeing stars behind his closed eyelids. He rose from the chair, squinting to see where his glasses had fallen. Rubbing his nose with one hand, he held out the other. "Accio glasses!" he cried, catching the frames as they landed in his outstretched hand. Returning them to his nose, he turned to see the cat curled up in the armchair. "Ruddy cat."

He'd just re-tied the sheet around his waist when Ginny emerged from the en suite, rubbing what must have been lotion into her hands because the scent of lilies filled the room. I won't be able to get her scent out of my mind for days, he thought to himself as he breathed it in. Or the way she looks right now. She was wrapped in a rich purple dressing gown that shimmered as the sunlight touched it. It looked so soft that all he wanted to do was reach out and touch it, and her. Her hair, still damp from her shower, lay in thick, mahogany waves around her shoulders. Her face was smooth and shining from her bath and a pale rose color played along the apples of her cheeks. Her narrow feet were bare, her toes painted a delicate shade of pink, something he had been delighted to discover during their mutual explorations of one another's bodies in the night. He loved her toes. He loved everything about her. "Hi," she said, tipping him a shy smile. His heart did a somersault. "Hello yourself," he said, walking up to her and slipping his arms around her waist, his hands sliding against her dressing gown. Just as I thought, he thought to himself warm, thick, very sensual. He brushed a kiss across her lips and was relieved to feel her lean into him, her fingers slipping through the hair at the nape of his neck. He broke their kiss to draw her body closer against him, lingering in the embrace for as long as he could before pulling slightly back to look at her. "Periwinkle and I were just having a little chat." "Oh, really?" Ginny said, arching a brow at him and looking over at her cat. Harry noticed that Peri had remained curled in the chair but had one gleaming, golden eye open, watching them. "His head is as hard as a sledgehammer," Harry said ruefully. At Ginny's confused look he smiled. "He gave me a head-butt in the nose." Ginny snorted, pulling out of his embrace and laughed as she scooped up the cat. "Go ahead, laugh," Harry said, rubbing his nose. "It hurt almost as much as when Ron punched me in the nose that night at the Three Broomsticks."

"Your nose is sensitive to pressure because of that little fight," she said with a short sniff. "You've no one to blame but yourself for that onewell, other than Ron, of course." Shaking her head, Ginny walked over to him with Peri in her arms. "Anyway, if Peri gave you a head-butt, that means he likes you." "I'll take your word for it," Harry said, unconvinced. He raised his eyes from the cat to her face. "I'm more interested in knowing if his mistress likes me." Ginny blinked, her cheeks turning a lovely shade of pink as she set the cat back down in the chair. Ordinarily, he would have loved to see her blush, but he was more concerned about her answer to his question. He slipped his arms around her waist. "I couldn't help but notice that you seemed a little skittish earlier. Are you sorry about last night?" "No," she said quickly. A little too quickly. Don't panic, Potter. "Gin, let's sit down," he said. He led her over to the padded bench seat next to the window, his hand riding the small of her back as they walked. As they sat down, she looked up at him and the uncertainty he saw in her eyes made him swallow. "Sweetheart, please, you can tell me. What is it?" "Harry, I don't regret what happened last night," she said softly. "Truth be told, it's a night I've dreamt about many times over the last nine years." He felt like he could breathe again. "Ginny, you don't know how happy I am to hear you say that." As he leaned in to kiss her, she placed her hand on his chest. Confusion, this time tinged with panic, blossomed once again in his chest. "Gin?" "Harry, I feel like I'm on a rollercoaster," she said, reaching down to clasp his hands in hers, "but I want you to understand, so please, hear me out." Willing his heart to stop racing, he nodded his head. "Last night was incredible," she said, her chocolate-brown eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I don't regret sharing the night with you at all. When we were together that night on the Astronomy Tower, all I'd wanted to do was fall asleep in your arms and wake up with you in the morning. Circumstances, being as they were, made that impossible."

"I'm so sorry, Gin," Harry said, bringing one of his hands up to caress her cheek. "There are so many things I wish I could change about what happened during those days." "I know," she said sadly. "But that's a talk for another day. I just want you to know that I'm feeling like I rushed things last night. It wasn't so long ago that you and I were still at odds and I was involved with Christopher. Only this summer you were still gone from my life, as you had been for so many years. And Christopher? Before you came back to us, I'd fancied myself in love with him." Harry's stomach turned. "But less than four months from when we saw one another in McGonagall's office for the first time after nine years, here we are." Her eyes gazed into his. "I don't want to have regrets about last night, I really don't. I just don't want to feel like we're not being intelligent about this, Harry. We've got so much that we need to talk about. I don't want to wind up glossing over all that has happened because we've been blinded by." "Our hormones?" he offered. She winced. "It's more than that and you know it, Harry," she said smartly. She frowned up at him when he chuckled. "What's so funny?" "Gin, it's nothing, really," Harry said, shaking his head. "I think I was just chuckling over the situation, and maybe out of relief. I hear what you're saying, though." He brushed a kiss along her brow and tipped back to look at her. "We need to think this through and deal with the past before we can start looking at a future. Is that right?" She nodded. "I know that it will take us some time to resolve things from the past," he said, bringing his hand up to cup the side of her face. "I want you to know that last night was the best night of my life, Gin. I hope you know me well enough to know that what we shared together means a great deal to me, and I'll cherish it always." He watched as tears filled her eyes. "We'll take things one day at a time, OK?"

She nodded again, only this time she leaned over and kissed him gently. Harry closed his eyes and deepened the kiss, cradling her face in his hands and drinking in everything about that moment, knowing it would have to last him for a while. The future of his dreams was within his grasp it required honesty and patience for it to become a reality. He wasn't about to blow it now. As they separated, he was happy to see the uncertainty gone from her eyes. Slipping his hands from her face to take her hands, he gave them a gentle squeeze, then rose from his seat and stretched. When he opened his eyes again, he found her staring at his belly. Not as immune to the hormones as she'd like to be, is she? he thought to himself. "I think I should take a shower and head back to my rooms, Gin," he said, a little louder than necessary. She jerked her head up to meet his eyes, her face now the familiar Weasley red he loved so much. Oh, she's fun to tease. "I'll need to transfigure my clothes into something a little less obvious than my Quidditch robes." "Leave that to me," Ginny said, scrambling to her feet and pressing a kiss onto his cheek. "I need to get dressed and check in on things upstairs." Suddenly, she blanched. "Harry, how are you going to get out of here? There must be students crawling the hallways by now!" "It's OK, Gin," he said with a laugh, slipping an arm around her waist as he walked towards the open door of the en suite. "I'll cast a Disillusionment Charm on myself before I leave. Once I'm clear of Gryffindor Tower, I'll duck into an alcove somewhere and remove the charm." When his plan failed to remove the concern from her eyes, he swept her into a hug. "Don't worry I'll be very careful, I promise," he whispered, pressing a kiss along the side of her neck. "Well, all right," she said with a sigh. She pressed her hands against his chest before he could take advantage of her agreement with another kiss. "Off to the showers, Mr. Potter." "Yes, Miss Weasley," he said, kissing her on the nose. "I'll see you at dinner tonight, okay?" At her nod, he gave her a searing kiss. He delighted in her eager response, losing himself in their embrace for several moments before pulling away

from her. She looked completely dazed. With a wink, he whipped off the sheet and turned into the en suite. He heard her spluttering something that sounded suspiciously like "not playing fair" as the door clicked shut. All's fair in love and war, minx, he thought to himself, and I think I may be in for a little of both. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A week and a half later, Ginny found herself sitting at her desk in the Charms classroom, staring out of the window. It was late in the day, and she was supervising Richard Flint as he finished up his detention. Earlier in class, he'd charmed Paige McCleary's textbook to fly around the room, attacking several of her fellow Hufflepuffs before Ginny was able to cast Finite Incantatum. He stood on a ladder next to the floor-to-ceiling bookcases running the length of one of the classroom's walls, re-alphabetizing the books by title without magic. When she'd announced his detention in class, she'd seen the look of loathing in his eyes. When she'd warned him that his continued insolence would result in the loss of more house points, he'd managed to adopt a more-reasonable look. Barely. You would think I had him scrubbing the toilets as surly as he is, she thought to herself. She nibbled her bottom lip as she reviewed her class notes. That's odd, she thought to herself: the total number of detentions and house points she'd taken away from students had gone up over the last week and a half. A thought niggled at the back of her mind as she set her class notes aside and picked up her journal it was there that she kept record of the house points won and lost for Gryffindor. Her frown deepened as she realized that she'd taken more house points away from students in Gryffindor in the past week than she had since the beginning of term. She shut the book with a snap. Flint jumped, dropping the stack of book he'd carried up to the top of the ladder. "Bloody hell," Flint said, his eyes flashing. "Language, Mr. Flint," Ginny said, her temper already on edge. "Unless you want to lose another ten house points." Silence. "I thought not." As he

climbed back down the ladder, Ginny set the journal down on her desk. She'd been unbearable lately. Snippy one moment and sullen the next. It was all Harry's fault. As much as she'd wanted some time to adjust to the change in their relationship, she hadn't wanted him to ignore her. She'd hoped he would have come to her late some night to make love to her until the dawn once again. She'd barely been able to sleep more than a few hours each night and, as a result, she'd become waspish to a fault. Since their night together, Harry had rarely showed up for meals. When he didn't appear, he'd always had a ready excuse extra Quidditch practice, tutoring for one of his Astronomy students, whatever. And, when he did appear, he'd always treat her with respect and friendship. His eyes, however, had told a different story he'd wanted her as much as she'd wanted him. He could make her heart beat faster with a glance, a smile, a wink. She'd avoided a scrimmage match between the Hufflepuff and Slytherin reserve teams because she wasn't certain she would have been able to conceal her feelings the moment he appeared to referee. After all, how on earth could she ever see him in his gear and not remember being the one to remove it from his body? Well, someone had to be rational in this situation, she thought to herself. As she'd prepared for bed the night after she and Harry had made love, she'd felt panic-stricken to realize they'd done nothing to protect against a pregnancy. She'd been angrier at herself than Harry she was a Healer and had just witnessed a birth, for Merlin's sake. Once she'd finished haranguing herself, (much to the entertainment of Periwinkle, who'd sat and watched her with obvious amusement) she'd done the math and flopped onto the bed with a sigh of relief. They'd been incredibly lucky. Sure enough, a week later, she'd felt the first twinges of her menses and had barely contained a yelp of glee. Yet even as she'd been glad to have dodged that particular bullet, she'd experienced a shimmer of wistfulness as the image of her holding the black-haired infant that she'd envisioned at Charlotte's birth played back in her memory. She'd known better, of course an unexpected pregnancy during their first year as unmarried teachers at Hogwarts was not something they needed to add to the already-mountainous pile of issues to deal with. That Saturday, instead of going to the Quidditch match, she'd gone into Hogsmeade to pick up the necessary ingredients for birth-control potion. It was a difficult potion to

create the ingredient list was vast, and the instructions for brewing it precise but she'd managed with the help of Peri whose eyes had gleamed a brilliant shade of green when she'd held the cauldron under his nose for a sniff. By the next morning, the potion had sat ready in a crystal bottle on her bedside table. Not that I've needed it, she thought with a frustrated sigh. She stuffed her journal into her briefcase and started to collect the tests she had been marking when she heard a knock on the door. "Come in?" The door swung open to reveal Harry on the other side. Breathe in, breathe out. "Good evening, Professor Potter," she said, her voice wavering slightly over his name. "What can I do for you?" "Good evening, Professor Weasley, I was wondering if I might have a word with you about the O.W.L.s seminar we're putting together," he said, his voice polite and professional. "May I come in?" That voice may be professional, she thought as he stepped across the threshold, but those eyes are not. "Yes, please," she said, willing her pulse to slow down before she exploded. As he shut the door and started towards her, she remembered they were not alone. "Flint? That'll be all for now. Thank you very much." She ripped her eyes away from Harry to see Flint looking between the two of them with rapt interest. "Mr. Flint? Did you enjoy your detention so much that you want to re-alphabetize them by author tomorrow?" Flint shook his head no. "Then I suggest you leave now." He gave her one more look before picking up his belongings and shuffling over to the door, slamming it on the way out. Before the reverberations finished their echo, Ginny was crushed in Harry's arms, his mouth hungrily kissing her as he swept her off her feet. She responded with ferocity, moaning into his mouth as her nails dug into his shoulders. He slid her down his body and she shuddered as she felt the effect she was having upon him, making her wish they were back in her chambers all the more. Her feet once again touched the floor and his kisses drifted down the side of her neck.

"Can't stop thinking of you," he muttered between kisses. Ginny shivered in response, stripping the elastic from his hair and diving her fingers through the loosened strands, smiling as he gasped with pleasure. He raised his head to stare at her, his eyes filled with longing and desire. "I tried to stay away, to give you time " "I've missed you," she said, misery clearly evident in her voice. "I can't stay away, Ginny," he said, pressing urgent kisses along her jaw. "I've been impossible to my students, I almost ripped Remus' head off for asking about you the other day." He stared at her miserably. "I've written you so many notes only to catch Hedwig before she'd been able to fly off to deliver them that she's decided to stay in the Owlery for a while." Ginny laughed, although a part of her felt like crying. "Harry, we can't go on like this!" "I know! That's why I'm here!" he said, releasing his hold on her to pace back and forth. "But I also know that I don't want this just to be about the sex, Ginny. You were right it's so much more than that for us." Ginny's arms ached with emptiness as she watched him. As much as she hated to admit it, he'd just spoken aloud the crux of the argument she'd had with herself for the past week and a half. "I know we need the time to be a couple again, Gin," he said, walking back over to where she stood and cupping her face in his hands. "It's just knowing that it's so good between us that keeps derailing my brain." "Then let's go out," she said simply. He blinked at her. "Whatnow?" "No," she laughed, pressing a kiss on his chin and leaning back to look into his eyes. "This weekend. I mean, we were planning on going to Hogsmeade after the match two weeks ago. That would have given us time to be together, as a couple, right?" "Right," Harry said, nodding as he slipped his arms around her waist. "So you're talking about a I'll pick you up, we go out to do something, then we come back, kiss goodnight'that sort of thing?"

"Exactly," she said. "I know the realities of the situation make itdifficult " He snorted, a half-grin creasing his face and causing a dimple to peek out from his cheek. "Difficult is not the word I was thinking of, love. Impossible is more like it." She nodded in agreement. "Why do you think I stayed away from the pitch last weekend?" "I knew it!" he said with a smile. His eyes changed to a smoky green before he pressed nuzzling kisses along her jaw. "I thought of you the entire time I was getting dressed, Minx. Thought of the look in your eyes as your fingers unbuckled the straps." Ginny's toes curled with pleasure as she felt the brush of his lips against her neck, the slight scratch of his faintly-whiskered cheek against her jaw. She willed herself back from the brink. "Harry?" He raised his head and the look on his face was almost enough to make her toss the rational side of her brain out of the window. "Yes, Ginny?" "You know that I want you, but we need to lay the foundation so that it's not just the wanting." She touched his cheek tenderly. "It's the needing as well." "I understand, Gin. Going out sounds good," he added, snuggling closer to her, brushing a kiss across her lips. "Only one problem." "What?" she murmured. Gods, it was heaven kissing him again, she thought to herself as her fingers slipped through the silken strands of his hair. She wondered how sturdy her desk was. "I promised Ron and Hermione I would come to London to talk this weekend," he said, his hands slipping down to press her hips against his. Ginny's eyes almost crossed, and she barely stifled a moan. She extracted her fingers from his hair, pressed her hands against his chest and pushed. "All right, you sit over there." She pointed to the edge of her desk. He

grinned and complied. She walked around her desk and, placing a good meter between them, sat down in her chair. "So, you're going to London?" "I'm planning on talking with them about what happened at the Malfoy's," he said softly. "And to get to know my little goddaughter, of course. Have you heard from them?" She nodded. "Yes I received a note from Mum earlier in the week. Charlotte is doing just fine, and Hermione is doing well, too." "Gin, would you come with me?" Harry asked. "I think it might be easier to talk about everything that happened with the three of you there. If we were able to leave on Saturday, then perhaps we could have that time alone you were talking about earlier as well." Ginny thought for a moment. Time alone with Harry in London? But what about the sleeping arrangements? a voice hissed in her ear. I'm sure he'd agree to separate rooms if that's what I wanted, she thought to herself. But that's not what you want, is it? "Ginny?" She blinked. "Sorry about that, Harry," she said, giving her head a shake. "I think that sounds like a wonderful idea." He smiled like the sun. "Brilliant, Gin! I'll make the necessary arrangements." He looked into her eyes, desire still clearly simmering in his. "Should I book two rooms then? Because if that's what you want, I'll do it." A quiet smile teased her lips. "One room will be fine, Harry," she said, rising from her chair and walking over to stand next to him. She could see the tension ease from his shoulders at her words. "Now, are you going to have dinner with the rest of us in the Great Hall?"

He laughed. "Having meals in my rooms has been fairly boring. I think Dobby's tired of bringing meals I wind up not eating." He stroked her cheek. "I have missed you, Gin." "Me too," she murmured, rising on tip-toe to kiss him softly. "Let's go before I lose all of my good intentions." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "That's my little angel," Hermione cooed as she finished tucking Charlotte into her bassinet, running a finger along her feathery-soft hair. The baby's mouth was pursed into the shape of a bow, and her nearly-translucent lashes lay quietly against her plump cheek. Satisfied that Charlotte would continue drifting to sleep without her, Hermione rose from the edge of the bed with some effort and walked into the bathroom for her lotion. In addition to all of the congratulatory flowers and balloons that had filled their home, Hermione had been touched to receive a package from Ginny that had had nothing to do with the baby: a basket filled with restorative bath salts, shower gels and lotions for her to pamper herself with. The lotion had been a particular blessing since it helped to relieve the tenderness of the incision. The incision. The words filled Hermione with sadness, even as she rubbed the lotion into her skin. Growing up, she'd craved having a brother or sister to talk to, fight with and grow close to. Hermione had always remembered her first visit to the Burrow and had secretly envied Ron for having a houseful of siblings. In Harry and Ginny she'd come as close as an only child could to having a brother or a sister. When she and Ron had married, she'd promised herself to fill their home with as many children as possible. That was not to be. As she'd recuperated from the hysterectomy, she'd had near-constant mental battles with herself. The rational side of her knew that they'd had no choice but to perform the surgery. Otherwise, she wouldn't have lived to see Charlotte, to hear her little sighs and coos, to feel her hungry pulls at her breast, to see the amazement in Matthew's eyes over his new baby sister. Invariably, however, the tears would come.

It hadn't helped that she'd been overwhelmed trying to come up with a way to deal with two children, a house, and recover from her surgery once Ron had returned to work following her first week home. The preceding Wednesday had been especially horrible. Matthew was acting like a terror while she tried, unsuccessfully, to straighten things up in the house. Soon, Charlotte began to cry for her afternoon feeding. Suddenly, the tears came from nowhere and she wept uncontrollably. She felt little Matthew clinging to her leg, his cries joining hers as she reached for the phone to call her mother. "Mum, I can't take it," Hermione wailed into the telephone to her mother, near hysterical. "The house is a disaster, I haven't been able to take a shower all morning and the children are making me crazy. Please help!" Within moments, Molly Apparated into the living room. "There, there darling," Molly said, wrapping Hermione in an embrace. "Your mum Flooed me as soon as she got off the fellytone with you. She knew I could make it here faster than she could. She's on her way, though, so don't you fret. Leave the kids to me." She ushered Hermione into the bedroom and nudged her down onto the bed, plucked the baby out of her bassinet on her way to the door, catching it with her heel and pulling it shut behind her. Several minutes passed before Hermione rose from a doze, her eyes puffy and sore. Emma sat beside her, stroking her hair. "Hello, my sweetheart," Emma said with a smile. Hermione's eyes filled with fresh tears. "Mum, it's so hard." "I know, sweetheart," she said, holding Hermione in her arms. "Now, why don't you go into the bath and take a nice long shower. Molly and I will take care of everything, okay?" There had been more moments of unexpected tears, but that one had been the worst. The tears clinging to her eyelashes fell down her cheeks, snapping her back to the present. Her hands lay quiet, cradling her belly. "You've a beautiful family, Hermione," she muttered to herself as she angrily rubbed her cheeks against her shoulders. She finished rubbing in the lotion and washed her

hands, pressing the cool tips of her fingers against her forehead. Her whiskey-brown eyes flashed in the mirror. "You're alive and getting stronger every day. These tears have to stop and stop now." "'Mione? Who are you talking to?" Ron's voice called from the bedroom. Dammit. "It's nothing, Ron," she said, picking up a hand towel and blotting her face. She straightened her clothing, plastered a smile on her face and opened the door to find her husband leaning against the doorframe. "Did you pick up the cake from the bakery?" "Yes dear," he said, a look of concern still etched on his features. "I wish there was more that I could do for you, love." He touched her cheek softly. "I hate to see you so sad." The look of devotion on his face was her undoing. She collapsed against him, her tears burning hot against her cheeks and onto his broad chest. She felt his arms wrap tightly around her and she breathed in his scent, hoping to find comfort in its familiarity. She found little. "Hermione, are you sure you're up to this today?" Ron whispered. He began to gently rock back and forth. Within a few moments, she noticed that her tears were subsiding and her breathing was becoming more even. She then realized what he was attempting to do and gave a watery chuckle, leaning back to look up into his eyes. So much concern. "Well, it works with the kids," he said with a slightly defensive shrug. "Point taken," she said, reaching around into his back pocket for his handkerchief. She mopped her eyes and blew her nose, tucking the hanky into her own pocket. "And I heard what you said and the answer is yes. I've been looking forward to having Harry in this house for years." She cocked a brow at her husband. "To be honest, I think the question is are you?" Ron winced. "I think so, love. After everything that happened at hospital, I know it's something we have to do." She frowned up at him. "I don't feel like pummeling him, if that's what you're worried about." "No, I've your promise you won't do anything like that again," she said with a nod as she moved out of his embrace and walked over to the wardrobe to find a new top to wear. "Ginny's coming with him, you know."

Silence. She frowned, pulling her head out of the wardrobe to find him staring at her, his expression unreadable. "You heard me, didn't you?" "Yes," he said, his voice clipped. Hermione cast another drying charm on her bra damn breast milk and pulled on a butter-yellow top. "Ron." "Well?" he said, pacing back and forth. "I just don't know how I feel about all of that." "You mean the fact that your sister's taken up with him again, right?" "Hermione, you make it sound like I'm Dad, waiting at the door with my wand drawn or something, for God's sake." Hermione snorted. "No, your father would be standing at the door with his arms outstretched in welcome and you know it." Her expression changed when she saw the concern in his eyes. She pressed close to hold him, running her hand along his strong back. "Ginny's a big girl now, Ron. You and your brothers have always had difficulties seeing her as a grown woman." She pulled back to look up into his eyes. "After everything that happened at St. Mungo's, and all of what she did to help mehelp us, I'd hoped that had changed." "And it has, Mione! It's just" "What, Ron? You know he loves her. And despite everything that has happened between them, she loves him." He nodded. "That's what scares me, Mione that they'll see only that and not the need to re-build the trust. That's the foundation." "You know that deep down they're both sensible people, Ron. They'll get there," she said, standing on tip toe to press her lips against his in a deep kiss, one that made her sigh into his mouth before she was finished. As she pulled back, she looked into his crystal-blue eyes. "We've only to show them how." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Daddy! Come here, please?" Ron smiled as he walked down the hallway towards Matthew's room. As he turned the corner, he struggled to choke back a laugh. His son stood in the middle of his room, naked as the day he was born, his hands on his little hips. "Matty, what are you doing?" "I'm looking at the clothes Mummy picked out for me," he grumbled. "A green shirt? Daddy, I don't like green!" Ron walked into the room and peered around his son. Sitting on Matty's bed was a mossy-green t-shirt. It had what appeared to be a Snitch embroidered in the center. The wings fluttered from time to time. Leave it to Hermione to figure out a charm like that, he thought to himself. "Matthew, what do you mean you don't like green? You wore a green cap the other day when you and Grandmum Emma went to the movies." "OK, I don't like this green," he said, wrinkling his nose. "Can't I wear my Cannons' shirt?" That's my boy, Ron thought to himself, beaming. "Of course you can! Where is it?" Matthew charged over to his chest of drawers and started flinging shirts left and right. "Matty, your mum will kill us if we mess up your room like this. Easy!" Matthew giggled, completely ignoring him. Well, he's only four years old. Ron sat down on the edge of Matthew's bed, neatly made for the first time in a week and watched his son, remembering the day he was born. He'd been scared, although nowhere near as terrified as he'd been a couple weeks ago during Charlotte's birth. When he'd held him for the first time, Ron had been convinced he would crush the boy with his large, clumsy hands. He'd been so tiny, but even then Ron had been amazed at how perfect he was. Those first few days at home with the baby had been awesome. He'd been rendered speechless the first time Matthew had spat up on him. "How much milk are you feeding him, Mione?!" he'd managed to choke out, even as Hermione had laughed until she'd cried. The first time he'd seen Hermione breastfeed and the look of absolute adoration she'd held on her face for their

son had moved him to tears. To this day, some of his favorite memories involved the morning he'd spent snuggling with his wife, helping her cradle Matty against her while his little cheeks worked furiously at her breast. A cloud shifted over his face, even as Matty danced around the room, triumphant in finding his favorite shirt. This time around, Ron had not been blind to Herminone's shifting moods and occasional tears. She'd done her best to hide them from him, but she couldn't help the fact that he'd grown as accustomed to everything about her as he was himself loving someone since the age of eleven tended to make the little things fairly observable. When he'd entered their bedroom earlier, he'd heard the tears from the bathroom closely followed by castigation. He wished he could do more for her. He would gladly take some of the pain and burden onto himself if it would only provide her a moment of the happiness she'd seemed to have lost since Charlotte's arrival. The thought of Charlotte tipped the corners of his mouth back up. She was such a serious little thing. Yes, she did the things all newborns tend to do sleep, eat andwell, that, too but she would also spend time staring up at him when he held her. Her blue eyes still looked to be a bit cloudy and unfocused, but there were times when Ron would swear that she truly saw him. He thought it was too early for that, but decided he would ask Ginny for her opinion when he saw her later in the day. "Daddy? Can I go downstairs now?" Ron blinked and looked down at his son. He wore a screaming orange tshirt with the Cannons logo on the front, a pair of jeans and some disreputable-looking trainers. Just like a four-year-old boy should look. Ron glanced up, his eyes widening as he took in Matty's room. Hermione's going to kill me. "No, you can't go downstairs right now because you have to clean up this disaster area before your mother comes in here!" Ron said, leaning down to pick up a t-shirt off the floor. "Daddy!" Matthew whined. "No whining, son," Ron said. "I said you could change your shirt, not empty your wardrobe. Let's get to work while your mother's busy." He leaned

down to ruffle his son's hair. "If we hurry, she'll never know." They worked stealthily for the next fifteen minutes, Ron occasionally taking a peek down the hallway. As the last clean shirt was placed in the wardrobe, Hermione came around the corner, the baby cradled in her arms, sound asleep. "Matthew? What happened to that green shirt I put out for you?" she said, frowning. "I bought that especially for today." "Mummy," he said quickly, "I wanted to wear my Cannons shirt. Please?" Ron noticed that Matthew was nudging something mossy-green underneath his bed with the toe of his trainer. She pursed her lips. "Honestly, I don't know what it is about the two of you and that team." Her eyes flashed between Ron and Matthew in mock irritation. "All right, Matty, just be sure to comb your hairit's a disaster." She continued down the hallway. "Daddy," Matthew questioned as they walked into the loo, "who's coming over today?" Ron paused for a moment. "Your Auntie Ginny for one " "Brilliant!" he said, punching a fist into the air and doing a little jig. " And one of our friends from school." Ron leaned against the sink as Matthew combed his hair. "His name's Harry Potter." Matthew dropped his comb. "You're friends with Harry Potter?" he squealed, his eyes as big and as bright as a pair of Galleons. Ron picked Matthew's comb up out of the sink and looked at his son in the mirror. "Yes, son, your mum and I were best friends with Harry when we were at Hogwarts." He ran the comb through Matthew's silken strands, marveling in their softness. "We lost touch after we left school." "Why?" Ron grimaced. "He and I had a fight."

Matthew blinked up at him. "Well, why didn't you talk about it and make up?" he said, matter-of-factly. "That's what you and Mummy tell me to do whenever I get into a fight with Derek and Jacob from school." Out of the mouths of babes. "It's a bit more complicated than that." Matthew frowned. "If you had a fight and are mad at each other, why is he coming to visit?" Damn, he takes after his mother, Ron thought to himself. Too bright for his own good. Well, keep it simple. He squatted down until he was at eye level with Matthew. "Well, son, remember when Mummy and I went to hospital a few weeks ago?" Matthew nodded. "Yes, you brought home Charlotte." "Yes." OK, go easy. "Well, while we were there, we found out that Auntie Ginny and Harry have become friends again, so today Harry's coming over to see if he and I can become friends again." Matthew shrugged. "Well, if I had a friend as cool as Harry Potter, I'd make up with him." He paused for a moment. "Would it make Mummy happy if you made up with Mr. Potter?" Ron blinked. "Yes, son, it would. Very much." "Then make up with him. Mummy needs to be happy. She's been sad a lot lately." Just then, the doorbell rang. "Can I go downstairs now?" Ron nodded slowly, a lump forming in his throat as he straightened up from his crouch. Matthew threw a hug around his waist and bulleted past him on his way to the stairs. He stared into the mirror, his blue eyes shadowed with confusion. It was more complicated than that, wasn't it? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry exited the taxi in front of Ron and Hermione's flat in Notting Hill. As he turned to give Ginny a hand out of the car, he realized his palms were damp. Again. A person would think you were visiting the Queen, Harry

thought to himself as he wiped his palm against the outsides of his trouser leg. "Oy!" the cabby barked. "Yer ladyfriend's waiting!" Harry shook his head. "Cheers, mate," nodding his thanks and offering Ginny his hand. "Sorry about that, love." "It's okay, Harry," she murmured, smiling up at him as she stepped out of the cab. "And it's all right to be nervous as well." "No, it's ridiculous," he grumbled, opening a huge umbrella to shield them both from the rain. "These are the two best friends I've ever had in the world." "Yes, but they haven't been your best friends in nine years," she said, tucking her arm in the crook of his arm. "Not to mention that you're going to meet their children for the first time today as well. If you weren't nervous I'd be worried!" He could feel her fingers squeeze reassuringly through the thick leather of his bomber jacket. Merlin, was he glad she was here with him. They'd arrived in London the night before and had been lucky to be able to get away from Hogwarts at all. Their disappearing act following the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw match had not gone unnoticed by Snape. He'd made his opinion known to McGonagall that Sunday afternoon when he'd hauled both of them into her office to discuss it. "Headmistress," Snape said with a glare, "as our newest staff members, Mr. Potter and Miss Weasley have a great deal less seniority than the other staff. They should not be allowed to go gallivanting all over the countryside without permission." McGonagall's teacup hit its saucer with a snap. "Severus, both Harry and Ginny had permission to be away from the castle on Saturday," she said gruffly. "They'd also both received permission to be present for Mrs. Weasley's delivery. The fact that both of those things happened on the same day was sheer happenstance." She frowned at Snape. "You're not suggesting that they should have come to me before they left for St. Mungo's are you? Given the emergent nature of Mrs. Weasley's delivery, it would have been a dangerous waste of time for them to come to me before they left."

Harry barely contained a smirk from rising on his face as he watched Snape squirm under her scrutiny. With that issue settled, McGonagall made it clear that any future overnight trips away from the castle had to be cleared well in advance. After he and Ginny made their plans for London, they went straight to McGonagall for clearance. It had taken their promise to cover the Christmas holidays to clear the path for the trip. Harry smiled wolfishly. The Christmas holidays alone in the castle with Ginny. It was almost too much to ask for. "What are you grinning about?" Ginny asked as they started up the steps. She cocked an eyebrow at him. "I'd even go so far as to say you were leering." "I was just thinking about spending the holidays in the castle with you," Harry said softly, turning and wrapping his free arm around her. He leant down to nuzzle the underside of her jaw with kisses. "I wonder how many kids will be staying." "You're incorrigible," she murmured, pressing herself against him. He captured her lips against his in a lingering kiss. When he broke away from her, he noticed that her eyes were dark brown and bottomless. "And insatiable." "You're one to talk," he said with a smile. They had until 10 o'clock that evening to get back to the castle and, by Harry's estimation, they'd made the most of their trip. Ginny had mentioned that she'd never stayed in Muggle London, so Harry had felt it was his duty to oblige her every wish. They'd stayed in a hotel near Kensington Gardens within walking distance of the high street. He'd managed to secure tickets for a show in the West End and he'd delighted in seeing her face alive with wonder and awe at the performances. They'd gone to a nearby Indian restaurant afterwards. Ginny had never had curry before. Harry was certain he would remember the look she'd had on her face when the chilies had kicked in for the rest of his life. They'd returned to their hotel room and made love throughout the night. Now, as they stood embracing in the chill of a drizzly November afternoon in London, Harry wished he hadn't wasted all of those years away. The time had come to rectify the situation.

"I'll be fine," he said, pressing a kiss onto the tip of her nose. "I'm glad you're here with me, Gin." She stood on tiptoe and kissed his chin. "I am too. Now, ring the bell." Once he rang the doorbell, he heard the sound of little feet clamoring towards them. "Matty, settle down," he heard muffled through the opaque glass panel. The door swung open and Ron stood at the threshold, his large hand holding that of little boy with curling auburn hair and his father's blue eyes. "It's Harry Potter!" the boy squealed. Ron rolled his eyes. "Matthew, what did I tell you?" "To be polite,'" Matthew said, never taking his eyes off Harry. "But Dad, it's Harry Potter!" "I'm very pleased to meet you, Matthew," Harry said, smiling as he crouched down closer to Matthew's eye level. He was a handsome boy who looked like the perfect fusion of his two parents, although Harry had noticed Matthew had Ron's long nose, complete with freckles. He held out his hand. "Your mother has told me all about you." Matthew grabbed Harry's hand and shook it for all he was worth. "I'm sorry," Ron said, the tips of his ears red. "He's a little excited." "Come on in!" Matthew said, releasing Harry's hand to start down the hallway. "Matty, don't I get a hello?" Ginny's voice queried softly. Matthew stopped, turned and launched himself against her. As her arms came around him to embrace her nephew, Harry's heart lurched. He slowly rose to his feet to gaze at the joyful, maternal expression on Ginny's face. He wanted to be the one to give her children to love and care for, to share with her. Harry noticed a flicker of movement and looked over to see Ron staring at him, his eyes intense. They stood still for a heartbeat, then Harry extended his hand to Ron. Ron's strong hand clasped his and he felt himself pulled in to an embrace with his best friend.

"You do love her, don't you?" Ron whispered. "With all that I am, Ron," Harry said in return. As they broke apart, Harry noticed Ginny's eyes shimmering with happy tears. Ron smiled, the first carefree smile Harry had seen on his face in many, many years. As Ron tucked his sister under his arm for a hug, Harry gently brushed at her tears with the pad of his thumb. "It's good to have you both here," Ron said warmly. "Come on into the lounge and meet your goddaughter." As they walked down the hallway, Matthew chattered happily about the random delights of childhood: catching frog spawn with his cousins at the Burrow, learning how to sing his ABCs (a talent which he promptly displayed) and the recent destruction of his room. Harry laughed at the latter. "He's your son all right, Ron!" Ron rolled his eyes and ushered them through the door. "Hermione, look who's here!" Harry froze in the doorway as the slight sound of suckling reached his ears, a blush rising to his cheeks. Hermione sat in an overstuffed armchair, the front of her shirt partially unbuttoned to reveal a portion of her bosom. Oblivious to her guests, Charlotte was busily nursing, her tiny fists pressing against the fullness of Hermione's breast. "Harry! Ginny!" Hermione said, her eyes warm and serene. "It's so wonderful to have you here. Please sit down!" She pulled a blanket from her lap to shield Charlotte and gave Harry a smirk. "Is that better?" "Uhsh-should," Harry stammered, "should wewait for you to finish? Because I really can wait outside, if it bothers you." "Of course not, Harry!" she said, beaming up at him. Ron chuckled. "Knew that'd get you, Harry!" "Ron," Hermione frowned as she adjusted the blanket, "it's not nice to tease him like that." She turned back to look at them, and Harry was struck by the

look of serenity on her face. "Please, both of you sit down. She'll be finished in a minute." They sat down on the sofa across from Hermione. Harry's eyes flickered around the room, lighting on anything other than Hermione and the baby. It was a cozy room, filled with comfortable, overstuffed furnishings, the mantle covered with wizarding photographs. As he looked at Ginny, whose eyes were fixed on Hermione, he felt another tug and began to wonder what it would be like to sit in a room like this with Ginny by his side, their child suckling on her breast. Involuntarily, Harry's hand reached out to cup the back of Ginny's neck, his thumb running along the edge of her hairline. Ginny turned to gaze at him with eyes filled with longing. I think your heart is winning out over your head, my love. "Okay, time to switch," Hermione cooed at the baby. Harry's eyes shifted as Ron leaned down to take the baby from Hermione. God, she's so tiny, he thought to himself as he watched Ron's huge hands cradle his daughter with ease. Ron lifted her to lie against his chest, one of his large hands moving in slow circles on her back. He could hear her tiny gurgles, whimpers (and what sounded suspiciously like a burp), and drawn by some unseen force, he rose to his feet and walked over to stand next to Ron. Ron shifted the baby and cradled her along the inside length of his forearm. He stood beside Harry and held the little bundle so that Charlotte's face was turned towards her godfather-to-be. Her hair fell, feather-like, across her head and her eyes stared up at him. "She's beautiful," Harry whispered. "She is, isn't she?" Ron said, his voice soft and melodic. "You're lucky she's usually not happy during the switch." "The switch?" Ginny rose to her feet to stand next to Harry. "Nursing babies can draw milk from both breasts at each feeding if they wish, although most of the time, they are fairly happy with one."

He blushed. "Oh." Ron chuckled as he handed the baby back to Hermione. The blanket shifted to one side, giving Harry more of an eyeful that he'd wanted. Charlotte's mouth latched onto Hermione's breast with ferocity. "Bloody hell, Hermione," he gasped, "does that hurt?" Hermione laughed, causing the baby to startle slightly before she tucked back in for her luncheon. "It hurts a bit at first, but as time goes by the pain disappears." She arched a brow at him. "Until their teeth show up." "Teeth?" "Teeth start to arrive around six to seven months of age, Harry," Ginny said, taking him by the hand and leading him back to the sofa. "Mothers can nurse their children for years, if they wish, however, a lot stop as soon as the teeth come in." Harry's eyes flickered down towards Ginny chest and he blushed furiously. Casting a nervous glance towards Ron, who was distracted with Matthew's chatter, Harry turned to find Ginny's eyes twinkling at him. "But...you" he mouthed. "Earlier" Ginny goggled, pressing her fingers to her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. "We'll talk about that later," she whispered, giving him a wink. God, I must be glowing in the dark by now. "Howhow often does Charlotte need to eat?" Harry asked, shaking his head to clear his brain from thoughts of Ginny's breasts before daring to look at either Ron or Hermione. "About every three hours, unless she's having a growth spurt," Hermione said with a knowing smirk. "Ron? Why don't you show Harry around while I finish up here? Then we can settle in for our own lunch." Twenty minutes later, Harry found himself seated at the Weasley family kitchen table, where Matty was holding court. Harry was charmed by the little boy's obvious devotion towards his parents and his new baby sister. It was clear that Ron and Hermione were warm, doting parents and that their relationship had grown tenfold during his absence. He found himself wishing he could turn back the clock in order to share the days he'd missed: their engagement and marriage, Ron's promotion through the Auror Department, Hermione's rise within the Ministry, little Matthew's birth. As he felt the weight of guilt pressing down onto his shoulders, he felt Ginny's

hand squeeze his thigh under the table. He turned to look at her, to draw strength from her being beside him, despite everything that had happened. They deserved to know. They deserved to know everything. The decision made, he clasped Ginny's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Lunch was wonderful, Mione," he said, wiping his mouth with his napkin and laying it next to his plate. He lowered his voice. "I was wondering if we might have some time to talk for a while?" Ron nodded. "We've made plans for Matty to spend the rest of the afternoon with the Montgomerys next door." He looked at his son. "Okay, Mattytime to get your things for Derek's." "Cool!" Matthew said, leaping from his chair and heading for the stairs. He stopped abruptly and turned to face his parents. "Thanks for lunch, Mummy. May I be excused?" "Yes, you may," Hermione said with a smile, "and tell Derek's mum I said hello." "Bye Mr. Potter! Bye Auntie Ginny!" Matthew yelled as he shot through the kitchen door. "I swear, if I hadn't given birth to him myself, I'd think he was raised by wolves," Hermione grumbled. Shaking his head, Ron chuckled and rose from the table as Matthew clambered up the stairs. "I'll be right back." Carrying cups of tea and a platter of biscuits, Harry, Hermione and Ginny headed into the lounge as Ron and Matthew left the flat. Charlotte had continued to sleep throughout their lunch and lay in a little cradle near the fireplace. As though sensing her mother's return, she started to wake in bits and pieces. Harry stood near the basket, marveling at the tiny human inside. "Harry? Would you like to hold her?" Hermione said, gently laying a hand on his arm. "You're going to be her godfather, so you should at least hold her once before the christening." Harry swallowed reflexively. "I've never held a baby before, Mione."

"It's not too hard," she said, kneeling down to gently scoop the baby up into her arms. "What if I drop her?" he stammered. Harry's eyes sought Ginny's as a moment of panic shuddered through him and she smiled reassuringly, joining him next to Hermione. "You'll do fine, Harry," Ginny said softly, smiling up into his eyes as Hermione placed the baby into his arms. "Cradle her head in the crook of your armthat's itlook at you! You're a natural!" Harry dared not breathe. Although awake, Charlotte barely moved as Harry snuggled her closer, high up on his chest. She was barely larger than a rugby ball, nestled against him. She smelled of talc and milk and he didn't think he'd ever seen anything more beautiful in his life. She cooed, blinking her large blue eyes at him as one of her tiny fists came up to thump him on the chin. "Nice right cross, eh?" Ron said, startling the group as he walked into the room. "Takes after her old man." "Ron," Hermione said warningly. "I'm kidding, Mione," Ron said. He turned to Harry. "I had to promise her I wasn't going to pummel you again." "Ron!" "I think you should quit while you're ahead, brother dear," Ginny said, walking over to Harry and taking Charlotte from him. He noticed the smoothness of her movements and how naturally she seemed to handle the newborn. He was moved, once again, by images of her caring for their own child someday. "Point taken, sister," Ron said, pouring himself a cup of tea and settling in next to Hermione on the sofa. As the baby began to fuss, Ginny walked the baby over to Hermione, who was preparing for another feeding. Harry's eyes shifted towards the window he'd seen enough of Hermione's breasts for one day. After a moment,

Ginny's hand slipped into his and they walked over to the sofa opposite Ron and Hermione's and sat. "So" Harry started nervously, "where to begin." "Well," Ron said, setting his teacup down and wrapping his arm around Hermione's shoulders. "First of all, thank you for your letter, Harry. It's an incredible story. I'm sure it was a hard story to carry around on your own for so long." Harry nodded. "I owe all of you an explanation for my leaving, and that letter only holds the key to part of it, Ron. But I should ask you if you have any questions about it, first and foremost." "One question," Ron said, pursing his lips. "Why the hell didn't you come to me about any of this?" At Charlotte's started cry, Ron lowered his voice. "I mean, what happened at the MalfoysI've never seen anything that screamed self-defense' more than that account, Harry! We could have helped you!" "Ron, there's more to it," Harry said, pleadingly. At that, he went into the whole story: the revelation of his relationship with Dumbledore, the discovery of the book, the secret training in the Room of Requirement and the nature of magical bonds. Hours passed, and by the time Harry finished the full accounting, night had fallen. He ran his fingers through his hair, sending the strands in wild directions, and raised his head to find Ron and Hermione staring at him as though transfixed. The baby had been placed in her cradle hours ago. Now Hermione sat with tears streaming down her cheeks while Ron sat, ashen, looking into Harry's eyes. "If only you'd told me," Ron said, his voice shaking. "I would have walked through fire for you, Harry." "I know you would have, Ron," Harry said, his voice sounding scratchy, "and if anything had happened to you, I never would have forgiven myself. As it was, I needed to worry about keeping Ginny safe." "Why? What happened to place her in any more danger than the rest of us?" Harry flushed red, his eyes flickering over to Ginny. Although embarrassed, she nodded her assent.

"The night before the final battle of Hogsmeade," Harry started, his stomach lurching uncomfortably. "That night, Ginny and I." Hermione mouthed a silent "oh." Ron sat bolt upright on the sofa, his face now a dull red in color. "Ron," Ginny said softly, "it was my fault. I know you don't want to know the details" "No, I don't" he barked. "but, you have to know that I sought Harry out. I was the one who pushed him, despite the fact that I knew something was wrong with him that night." "Ginny," Harry said, a furrow forming between his brow, "you didn't act alone." "That's right," Ron said, his eyes flashing. "Dammit, Ron," Ginny said sharply, "when are you going to stop treating me like a child? I swear, to hear you talk I'm not any older than Matthew!" "Please, everyone," Hermione said, wiping her eyes, "that's enough! Ron, I told you earlier, you sister is a grown woman and fully capable of making decisions in her life" "Wrong-headed decisions," Ron snarled. "And I've had to live all these years with the consequences of those decisions, haven't I, Ron?" Ginny's eyes flashed as she rose from the couch and began to pace. She turned, her eyes now shimmering with tears and laid her hand on Harry's shoulder. "My heart was torn in two when Harry came to me that horrible night at the Burrow. I chose to stay with you and the rest of our family, Ron, and I chose not to go with Harry, the man whom I'd loved since before I can remember!" She let out a frustrated, angry sigh. "I couldn't see past my own grief to see how desperately he needed me to stand by him." "Ginny," Harry said, shocked into standing. He gathered her in his arms, feeling her head lean against his shoulder, her body wracked with tears. "Please, don't do this, darling! It was my fault, all my fault! I should have

seen that you needed to be with your family! All I could think about was what I needed, what I wanted. I've damned myself countless times for failing you." He paused, his own voice breaking as tears prickled his eyes. He pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead and breathed in her lily-scented perfume once more. "I shouldn't have asked you to make that kind of decision within a split second! It wasn't fair to you or to your family." "Everyone, please!" Hermione cried. "It was a time in our lives when everything was in chaos and nothing made any sense. Harry, we had no idea you were carrying such a heavy burden all on your own. My god, inadvertently killing two people with your own hands, then witnessing Charlie and so many others die, facing Voldemort and seeing Dumbledore fall." She turned blazing eyes onto her husband. "Ron, now is not the time to assign blame. Now is the time for us to come together as a family! It's time for us to heal." For several moments, the only sounds in the room were the occasional sniffles coming from Ginny and Hermione and the crackle of the wood on the hearth. Harry's entire body felt bruised, as though he'd been beaten all over again, and he wondered if there was anything else to be done. He held Ginny tightly against his chest, seeking comfort in her closeness, the smell of her hair, the feel of her breasts against his chest. Regardless of what the future held, he vowed to himself that he'd never let go of her again, and if it meant having to beat every single one of her brothers into a bloody pulp he would do it. He was tired of running. It was time to stand and fight. He was startled to feel Ron's heavy hand on his shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he prepared to block the swing. He turned and saw Ron's blue eyes staring into his. "Will you let me help you now?" Ron said hoarsely. All of the air left Harry in a quick whoosh. "Help me? Help me how?" "Harry, if you're willing to Pensieve your memories of that night, I think I might know someone who can help us with the legal aspect of things." Ron paused, giving Harry's shoulder a squeeze. "You know the papers were full of the incident regarding your wandless magic up at the school and chances are people will come digging. Let me help you now so that, if it does come up, we'll be ready."

Harry's throat closed. The thought of having his actions come to light after all this time made him cold to his soul. "Ron, do you really think this could happen?" Ginny said, fear shining in her eyes for the first time. "Yes," he answered. "I've seen Sirius at the office until late into the evening, working on something he's kept from all of us. If I had to guess, he's trying to keep the wandless magic out of the papers." "Dammit," Harry muttered. "I knew it was going to be a problem." Ginny gave him a squeeze. "You didn't have a choice, love." Harry let the endearment wash over him before answering. "I know, but I should do whatever I need to in order to minimize the damage." He looked at Ron. "Ginny and I have to get back up to the castle tonight, but if you and I could get together sometime next weekend?" "That's perfect, Harry," Ron said. "We can meet at the twins' shop in Hogsmeade." "I'll send Sirius an owl when we get back to school," Harry nodded. "I want him to be there as well." Ron nodded. "I'm glad you're back with us, git," he said, smiling at Harry. Harry let out a dry chuckle and tucked Ginny closer to his side. "I am too, Ron. I mean that." "We're your family. Don't ever hesitate to ask for help from us again, you hear me?" Ron added, poking him in the chest. "I promise I'll ask for help," Harry said with a smile. Hermione rose to clasp both of them around the waist, and they shared a four-way hug that lasted several minutes. As they broke apart, Ron thumped Harry on the back. "Before you head back to the school, what do you say you and I head to the pub on the corner?"

Harry turned to Ginny. "We've still got a bit of time, right?" "Yes," Ginny said, pressing a kiss on his cheek, "go spend some manly-man time with my brother. Just be back here by half past nine. We'll need time to walk from Hogsmeade back to the school." "Yes, Miss Weasley," Harry said with a smile. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny smiled tiredly as Harry and Ron walked out of the lounge. It had been an emotional day, but she found that her heart was lighter than it had been in years. The dtente that had been formed between Harry and Ron at St. Mungo's had been solidified into a full reconciliation. Truth be told, she'd had her doubts when they first arrived in London the day before, but she wasn't about to let it spoil her weekend with the man she loved. Yes, she thought to herself as she heard the front door shut, it's time I admit it: I love him still. She'd come to that conclusion earlier when she'd watched Harry hold little Charlotte. She'd felt a pull at her heart so strong it nearly staggered her with its intensity. As she thought back on the past nine years, she'd realized what she'd been missing, what her time with Christopher had been missing: she would never have a bond with anyone else like the one she shared with Harry. The night in the Astronomy Tower had sealed that fate as clearly as if they had spoken vows of marriage. This is where I'm meant to be. This is my partner, my soul mate, the one who holds my heart, and I his. The words she'd thought the night two weeks ago when she and Harry had made love came back to her, leaving her breathless. "Ginny?" Hermione's voice broke through her thoughts. Ginny pressed her hands to her cheeks and flicked her gaze in her sister-in-law's direction. "Where did you go just now?" Hermione said with a smile. Oh, she's smug. "I was just thinking," Ginny said, willing her face to return to its normal color.

"Oh, you know full well that answer will not do, Ginny!" Hermione said with a snort, collapsing onto the couch. She patted the seat next to her. "Spill." Twenty minutes later, Ginny had to laugh herself: Hermione sat staring, her eyes as wide as saucers and her hand covering her slack-jawed mouth. "Well," Hermione said, a tinge of pink riding her cheeks, "he's got stamina, doesn't he?" "Her-MI-O-neee!" Ginny said, turning red once more. "I didn't tell you any of that so that you could tease me!" "Oh Gin, it's been so long since we've been able to talk," Hermione playfully pleaded. "Let me have a little fun, please?" "The things I do for you," Ginny grumbled, rolling her eyes only to lean close to give her a hug. "Anyhow, that's enough about me. How are you doing?" Ginny noticed some of the sparkle go out of Hermione's eyes, confirming what she'd suspected. "You've been depressed, haven't you?" Tears shone brightly. "How did you know?" "Hermione, I've been expecting it," Ginny said with more heat than she'd intended. She clasped her sister-in-law's hand. "You put up a good front, but I know what to look for, remember? You went through an extremely difficult birth with Charlotte, so it stands to reason that you would have been down." Her heart twisted as a large tear slid silently down Hermione's cheek. "You said it yourself it's been a long time since we've been able to talk. We've got an hour or so now. Tell me." Ginny sat patiently as Hermione shared how she'd been feeling the last two weeks. Adjusting to having a newborn and a pre-schooler had been harder than she'd thought it would have been, but Ginny was glad to know that her mum and Emma Granger had made it a point to come by on a regular basis to help. As Hermione finished, Ginny noticed that she had kept her hands cradled against her abdomen and knew she had to ask the question. "How are you feeling about the hysterectomy?"

Hermione sighed, another tear escaping from her eyes. "I have my good days and my bad days, Gin. The other day, my mum was here, and I asked her if she'd ever regretted not having more children. She told me I would have loved to have had more children, but it wasn't meant to be. I was always so thankful for having you as my daughter that I didn't worry about the children I couldn't have.' And I know that she's right, I know she is. She tried to get me to see that I should be thankful for what I have, and not to worry about what I've lost." She turned shining, pleading eyes to Ginny. "But I can't help it! Even though my pregnancies were hard, they were a very special time in my life. I'll never get to experience that again." "'Mione, darling, it's okay," Ginny crooned, rubbing Hermione's forearm, her own eyes starting to tear. Her heart ached to see her friend hurting as she was, but she knew it was important for her to get this out. "I'll never again experience the excitement of the first flutters or the first forceful kick," Hermione said, her voice finally breaking as tears streamed down her cheeks."Or the feeling of hiccups. I'll never be able to watch my belly grow with the excitement of knowing a new life is in there. A new life we created" "But Hermione, if you hadn't had the hysterectomy, you would have left Ron alone to raise Matty and Charlotte. How could that ever be all right?" Hermione looked stricken and, for a moment, Ginny felt certain she'd pushed things too far. Then Hermione's face fell and she was wracked with sobs. Horrified, Ginny took her sister-in-law in her arms and rocked her gently, stroking her hair and humming a soothing tune into her ear. The embers from their fire sparked and crackled for several moments, the sound broken occasionally by the sound of a sniffle or a quiet "there, there." Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny noticed that Charlotte was coming awake once again and knew she would need tending. "Hermione, I should not have said that," Ginny whispered, her own eyes stinging with tears. "It wasn't my place to do so." "No, Gin," Hermione said, pulling slightly away from Ginny, taking a handkerchief from the sleeve of her blouse and blowing her nose. "You're absolutely right." "But"

"Don't apologize, Ginny," Hermione said, touching her on the arm. "What you're feeling is completely natural, and expected," Ginny went on, peering into her eyes. "Have you thought of seeing someone?" "A professional? Oh no," Hermione said, rising from the couch to pick up Charlotte. "I'll be all right." "There's no shame in it," Ginny said seriously. "I know," she said, walking over to the window seat next to the picture window and pulling a nappy and a package of baby wipes from a large wicker basket. Ginny rose from the couch and walked over to join her. "My mum suggested the same thing." As Hermione tended to Charlotte's needs, Ginny felt as though she was the lowest worm on the planet, until she felt her sister-in-law's eyes on her face. When Ginny raised her eyes, she found Hermione's searching gaze pinning her to her seat. "What is it, Hermione?" "Ddo you really think I should see someone?" she asked hesitantly. "Hermione," Ginny said, blowing out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. "I honestly think it might help you. At the very least, it would give you someone you could talk to about all of the changes that have happened in your life in the last two weeks." She nodded sadly. "Have you talked with Ron about how you're feeling?" Hermione's eyes widened. "II" "Hermione, he wants to support you, to help you," Ginny pressed. "Let him." Hermione let out a shuddering sigh. "You're right. You're absolutely right. I think I just needed a kick in the pants from you, Gin." She picked up Charlotte. "I'm going to go wash up and get some more tea for us. Harry and Ron should be gone for another hour at least. Can you keep an eye on Charlotte?"

"Of course!" Ginny said, stretching out to take the baby from her sister-inlaw. "I didn't get to spend enough time holding her earlier today, so hand her over." She was relieved to see a smile cross Hermione's face as she placed Charlotte in her arms. "Everything's going to be OK, Mione. It will just take some time." Hermione nodded, pressing a kiss first on Ginny's cheek and then her daughter's. "Thanks for being here." "Anytime," Ginny said. As Hermione left the room, she heard the front door open and little Matthew tearing towards the kitchen. Three seconds later, he came tearing back into the living room, waved at his auntie. "The evening Daily Prophet's here," Matthew said, winded, placing the newspaper on the window seat. "Mummy said you might like to read it while she's in the kitchen." "Thanks, Matty!" Ginny smiled as the boy ran back towards the kitchen, chuckling as she turned her gaze onto Charlotte's attentive face. As she walked around the room, she hummed a tuneless lullaby, watching the baby's eyes lose their focus as sleep began to claim her once again. Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny saw the flickering movements of a wizarding photograph on the cover of the evening's Daily Prophet. Cradling Charlotte in one arm, she sat back down on the window seat and reached for the paper. She'd reached the third page when her heartbeat skittered as she read the half-page advertisement running the length of the bottom of the page: "Ollivanders of Hogsmeade Opening Soon!" 17: Plans and Schemes A/N: This chapter begins the same day Harry and Ginny visit Ron and Hermione in London. ~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco Malfoy stretched languorously as he slowly opened his eyes. Gazing at the ridiculously expensive damask hangings surrounding his canopied bed, he opened his mouth for a huge yawn. Sundays were meant for relaxation. Or recreation, he thought to himself as he felt Blaise's leg slip between his. His wife, Pansy, was as cold as a fish in bed. She was also, however, a respected member of the wizarding community and it was important for Draco to present the faade of respectability. They had an understanding, though: as long as he was discreet, Pansy was willing to cover for anything, especially if it meant she could avoid "servicing" him. Draco made it a point to avail himself of Blaise's services whenever he was in the mood for a little...heat. But as pleasant as lingering in bed sounded, it would have to wait until later. Reluctantly, he rose from the bed and walked into the en suite. There was much to do today, the first of which was to see where things were with their plans for Christopher Ollivander. Fifteen minutes had passed when Draco heard the door to the en suite open. He was about ready for someone to wash his back...and other parts. "Did you miss me already, pet?" "Master?" It was like ice water had been thrown onto his crotch, the effect was so immediate. Draco turned to see Botch, his house-elf, standing at the shower door. "What is it?" "Mr. Flint is here to see you, sir," the house elf simpered, picking up a sponge to scrub at Draco's shin. Draco snatched up the sponge and kicked him away. "I'll be down in twenty minutes. Have him meet me in the dungeon." Botch slithered, his nose scraping the floor as he bowed. It's just as well, Draco thought as he scrubbed his chest, I need to stay focused on the task at hand and the reasons for it. It was the sudden deaths of his parents that had kept Draco away from the front the day of the final battle. He'd been awakened in his dormitory with news of their demise and had fled the school soon afterwards. Over the years, he'd attributed his disappearance to being grief-stricken, but the truth of the matter was he'd been terrified that whoever had done the deed would

come after him next. Of course, his father would have been mortified, knowing his only son had failed to step in to defend the Malfoy family honor on the battlefield. After all, they'd been fighting for final supremacy over the Mudbloods and their sympathizers. What difference could I have made? Draco pondered as he sat back on the marble bench inside his shower, a cascade of hot, soapy water flowing down upon his shoulders. Besides, what good is honor if you're dead? Better to live to fight another day. After the war, the very misguided Ministry of Magic had made several attempts to relieve pureblood families who'd sided with the Dark Lord of their fortunes, ostensibly as reparations for the Mudblood sympathizers. With a considerable amount of effort and ingenuity he'd managed to shelter the family's holdings in off-shore accounts and, ironically, within the Muggle stock market. After all who would have thought to look for Draco Malfoy's riches interspersed with Muggle gold? Muggles had their uses after all. Besides, he thought as he peered into the mirror, inspecting his face for imperfections, the next leader of the purebloods has to have wealth. Money is power. Draco had spent the better part of the last nine years researching the death of the Dark Lord: specifically, what had caused it and how someone like himself could avoid a similar fate. Access to the official files had been impossible at best: following the war, the war crime tribunals had wiped out any remaining Ministry-level staff that had collaborated with or been helpful to the Death Eaters. The election of Arthur Weasley to Minister had sealed his fate, forever blocking access to the information he needed. As if any of those buffoons knew what was good for wizarding kind. It was common knowledge that Muggles and the Mudbloods that sprang from them to infect his world were inferior and needed to be destroyed. Despite being raised to believe that Lord Voldemort had been the most powerful wizard of the age, Draco hadn't been completely swallowed up by the claptrap he'd had driven into his brain by his tutors and parents. The Dark Lord had had a weakness: Harry Potter, not much better than a halfblood himself. Potter had only been an infant at the time of the Dark Lord's first failure.

Draco remembered hearing all of the stories about the black-haired baby. He'd remembered his father's face lighting up when he'd described the thin boy he'd encountered in Madam Malkin's during his trip to Diagon Alley for school supplies. "I'd wager all the gold in Gringotts that that was Potter," his father had said, going on to encourage Draco to seek him out. "The Dark Lord would be pleased to know we had Potter within our grasp." He also remembered the cold disdain his father had shown him upon his failure to do so. The cold disdain anytime Potter had gotten the better of him: getting the Snitch at every Quidditch match; blasting him with that bloody Patronus charm; laughing when Barty Crouch, posing as Moody, had turned him into a ferret. Draco felt rage flourish within him, feeding on itself until it made him tremble. Focus on the task at hand, he thought to himself. Focus on the why, not the who. Potter's strength only seemed to increase with each subsequent confrontation. Draco had heard rumors about what had occurred during that final battle - out of all of them the rumor that Potter had experienced a transference of powers from Dumbledore had led the pack. But how had that taken place? That was the key to avoiding the same pitfalls. It was up to Draco to find it, learn from it and eliminate it. Since the road to Ministry files was blocked, he'd had to use alternative methods. So far, he'd been successful in...convincing several members of the wizarding world to divulge their secrets and knowledge. He had several full Pensieves to show for those interrogations, and their contents had nearly confirmed Draco's suspicions of the transfer. The last attempt to acquire information had almost been a catastrophic failure, no thanks to Flint. A search of their home had revealed little. Luckily for him, he'd managed to extract one piece of information from de Roya and Bales before they were killed: they'd been in contact with Ginny Weasley. At the time, Draco had wondered how he would manage to approach Weasley. Then, a few days later, Flint had stumbled upon Ollivander, drunk and miserable, at the Leaky Cauldron. Although the search of Christopher's home resulted in the discovery of several of Weasley's journals and notebooks from school, none of them contained anything more than general notes from university-level courses. Draco knew that the ones he needed were, in all likelihood, kept close to her, which meant getting access to her at Hogwarts.

Serendipity is sweet, Draco thought to himself, smiling as he pulled a silverhandled brush through his long, silvery-blond hair. He secured the mass of it at the nape of his neck with an elastic band and walked out of the en suite, naked. He saw Blaise blink sleepily at him, the sheet falling away to reveal the flesh he'd sampled throughout the preceding night. Heat pooled in his groin, but it would have to wait until later. He had business to attend to. "Draco," Blaise crooned, "come back to bed, sweets." "No time, pet," he said, sitting down next to Blaise. As Draco played with Blaise's dark hair, brushing it out of his eyes, Blaise reached up to stroke Draco's cheek. Draco batted his hand away. "Amuse yourself up here in the chamber, and I'll come back to you in a bit. I will have worked up a hunger for you by then." Before he could taste Blaise's full lips, he detected a hint of movement near the door of the bedchamber and frowned. "BOTCH!" he bellowed. The house elf scuttled out from behind the door. "Yes, Master?" "Since you seem incapable of understanding the phrase, 'do not disturb,' make yourself useful and have breakfast brought up for my guest immediately." The house elf simpered and ran from the room. Draco released his hand and brought it down hard on Blaise's naked buttock, enjoying the hiss of breath and the sting of his palm. "Something to remember me by," he whispered and rose from the bed to enter his dressing room. Twenty minutes later, he sat scowling at the reports he'd received from his wire clipping service. When he'd begun his quest towards world domination, he'd engaged their services to pull all articles pertaining to the Weasley clan, now including that Mudblood know-it-all Granger. He'd added Potter to the list upon his return to their world. This article, though, caused the wheels to begin to turn: POTTER THE GREATEST WIZARD OF THE AGE? Speculation about wandless magic rages at Hogwarts By Rita Skeeter, special correspondent An unnamed source claims that Harry Potter might have more abilities than we currently know. As this reporter has previously noted, Mr. Potter returned to our world this past summer to begin teaching Astronomy and serve as the Master of Flight at Hogwarts. During one of his first-year

flying classes, two boys from Gryffindor House accidentally knocked firstyear Ming Chang of Ravenclaw from her broom. In a move that would have reminded many a past Hogwarts student of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Potter used a simple charm to slow the girl's descent. The interesting news is that he did it without a wand. It has long been rumoured that Dumbledore, the greatest Headmaster that Hogwarts has ever seen, had transferred his power to Mr. Potter during the final battle to defeat Lord Voldemort. Of course, this is all hear-say, but it does make this reporter curious about the details of the final confrontation and the real reasons that caused the Boy Who Lived to leave our world nine years ago. There have been no more reports of wandless magic since Miss Chang's rescue a few weeks ago, but it makes one wonder what Mr. Potter is capable of now that he is living and working in our world again. Could this be proof that Harry Potter - The Boy Who Lived and the Man Who Defeated Voldemort - is now the greatest sorcerer of the age, something the wizarding world has speculated about for all these years? We here at the Prophet will keep abreast of these rumours and any other information concerning Hogwarts' newest Professor of Astronomy. Wandless magic, Of course. He'd always suspected wandless magic had been involved - after all, the Dark Lord and Potter had shared brother wands, all too easily rendered useless against one another. Draco added wandless magic to the list of clues to look for. He entered the dungeon only to be assailed by a foul smell coming from behind one of the locked cells below. He fumbled for his wand, muttering a deodorizing charm to keep from gagging. "Flint! What in the hell are you doing down there?" "Sorry, Draco," Flint said, waving his hand towards a pair of house elves. "Ollivander isn't doing well." "What do you mean?" Draco hissed, his eyes narrowing. "You know we have to keep him alive if this plan is going to work." "I know that," Flint snapped. "I was just having a bit of fun with him." "Well, leave off for now, Marcus. It's critical that he be in decent shape for the next several months," Draco said, finding a seat. "The potion is almost complete?"

Flint walked over to a large cauldron, its contents burbling slowly. "Yes. We'll be able to add the final ingredients after the full moon on Wednesday." "And the shop?" "The inventory arrived on Friday last. We've had workers putting the finishing touches on the store room all weekend." Draco smiled. "Any difficulties from Ollivander Senior?" "None at all, Malfoy," Flint said with a smile. "His nephew follows instructions quite well while he's under the Imperius Curse." "Excellent," Draco said, clapping his hands together. Flint jumped. A frown marred Draco's brow. "Why so jumpy, Flint? Is something wrong?" "No sir," he said quickly. "Actually, I think we've stumbled upon another bit of good fortune." He dug into his pocket and extracted a piece of parchment. "I've received a letter from my son." Draco's frown deepened. "And just how is this relevant to our plans?" "Read it for yourself, Malfoy," Flint said smugly. Draco snatched the parchment from Flint's outstretched hand and began to scan the letter. "Serendipity smiles upon us once again, Flint. Care to join me below for a little chat with our guest?" They descended the stairs to the cells. As he opened the door to Ollivander's cell, Draco was pleased that the house elves had done a decent job of cleaning things up. Still, the man looked horrid. Ollivander hung naked against one of the walls, his wrists shackled above him and suspended just low enough so that his toes could touch the floor. His skin, which was sallow and glistening with sweat, hung limp all along his frame. Must have lost a couple of stone at the least, Draco thought to himself. "So, Ollivander...enjoying your stay?" Draco said, smirking. "P...piss off," Christopher wheezed.

"Ah...still have a bit of spirit left in you," Draco mused. "Even if you look half-dead." Christopher's chin came up. "Then let me go. I promise I'll get better." "Oh, we have a comedian here, Flint!" Draco laughed. He withdrew his wand and, stepping closer to Christopher's shackled body, ran its tip down the center of his chest. "No, we have a need for you here, Ollivander, so you can't leave us quite yet." He removed the letter from his pocket. "I do wonder, however, if you'll still be up to making jokes after you hear the news contained within the letter Flint received from his son this morning." "Why should I care?" "Testicular Torsonis." Draco flicked his wand at Christopher's groin and watched his prisoner's movements cease even as gasps for breath exploded from his mouth. "Much better, Ollivander. Speak or move again and you'll regret it." He turned to Flint and handed him the letter. "Would you do the honors?" Flint's deep voice pierced the darkness: "'Father, "'School is dismal as us-'" "-Skip ahead to the pertinent parts, Flint," Draco snarled. "Sorry, Draco," Flint stammered. After a moment, he began reading once again: "'You told me you wanted to hear about any news from school about Professor Potter. He and Professor Weasley are spending a lot of time together. The two of them were stuck together at that Halloween dance a few weeks ago and were away from the castle the weekend of the first Quidditch match. Professor Weasley held me over for detention last week for playing a joke in class. Professor Potter came by to talk to her and...well, they hustled me out of the room pretty fast. Finally, they're both gone again this weekend, too.'" "That's enough, Flint, thank you," Draco said, a smile creasing his face as he watched Ollivander trembling against his chains. "I was fairly surprised,

Flint, that your son was capable of picking up all of those subtle nuances between Potter and Weasley, but I am more than pleased. You've managed to do well with him." Flint sniggered. "He's a bright lad, my boy." Draco nodded before he turned and walked up to stand in front of Ollivander. He noticed that Christopher, beneath his pallor, was colorless with anger. "It sounds," Draco softly hissed, his voice jeering and triumphant, "like your Miss Weasley wasted very little time before finding someone else to scratch her itch," Ollivander released a howl and, with tears of rage streaming down his cheeks, he struggled against his shackles. Draco felt a thrill course through his body when he saw something shift in his prisoner's eyes. "Oh, this is too good to be true...All that time the two of you were together, and you've never sampled her wares? Such the Hufflepuff, aren't you Ollivander?" Ollivander's bellowing filled the small room. Draco leaned in, his pulse racing with an almost-sexual pleasure. "Perhaps, he murmured, breath brushing over the shackled man's ear, "before we kill you both, we'll let you have her once we've finished with her. So you can see what you missed." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ "All right everyone," Harry said, waving his wand to clear the chalkboard. "For class on Tuesday: I want an essay on the nebular theory for solar system development. One full roll of parchment if you please, and be prepared to make a brief presentation about your research. Have a good weekend!" The groans coming from his fourth-year class were legion. He smiled as he watched as a couple of Slytherins shot him looks fit to kill. "Have a good weekend, Mr. Thomas," Harry said, cheekily. He paused as he heard Brian Thomas mutter something under his breath. "Excuse me, Mr. Thomas, I'm not quite certain I heard you correctly. Did you mention something about defective genitalia, something about a 'rotten wanker'?" Harry paused, arching his brow. The boy turned a shade of purple Uncle Vernon would have been proud of. "Ten points for rudeness, Mr. Thomas, and I suggest you leave now before you wind up spending detention in here this weekend. If you really are

having problems down there, I suggest that you see Madam Pomfrey immediately." "Yes...sir," Thomas fumed as he stomped out of the room, slamming the door. "Amateurs," Harry chuckled. He collected a pile of parchment scrolls and headed upstairs to his office. As he opened the door, he heard Hedwig hoot softly. "Hello, Hedwig! Did you have a good day today?" He set the scrolls down and stroked her feathers as she clicked her beak at him. He pulled an owl treat from his pocket and set it on the windowsill. "A bit of a snack before you head out for the night, girl." She flew over and began to tuck in. He removed his outer robes and loosened his tie before dragging the elastic band from his hair and giving his scalp a hard scratch. He then sat down at his full-to-overflowing desk. He'd had a long week. Although the visit with Ron, Hermione and their children couldn't have gone better, by the time he and Ginny had arrived back at Hogwarts, he'd felt completely wrung out. Saying goodnight to Ginny, after having spent the weekend in each other's arms, had been miserable. As tired as he'd been, all he'd wanted to do was fall asleep in her arms once again. As the days passed, they'd been able to share a smile in the hallways, and muted conversation during meal times, but their workload had limited their chances to be together. To top it off, Professor McGonagall had had to leave the castle for business in Wales, leaving Remus (who was due to transform on the full moon Wednesday night) without a substitute for his Defense classes the rest of the week. Harry had happily volunteered to take his Defense classes for Thursday and Friday and, even though the change of pace had been nice, covering both Remus' classes and his own had made it impossible to include late-night trysts. Well, almost impossible, he thought to himself with a smile. Ginny had cornered him at midnight last night as he'd exited his office next to the Quidditch changing rooms. Their time together had been playful, spirited, joyous and steamy, leaving him smiling like an idiot for hours afterwards. Which was as it should be between two people in love. Well, you're certain you love her, a voice whispered in his ear, but you haven't shared that with her, have you? Are you as certain of her feelings for you?

"Shut it," he muttered aloud, rubbing his temples. "Shut what?" a voice called from the doorway. Harry opened his eyes to find Remus smiling tiredly at him. He was leaning heavily on a walking stick and had one of his hands bandaged. "I tried knocking but you seemed to be a hundred miles away." "Sorry about that, Remus. Please, come in," Harry said, rising from his chair and ushering Remus in towards the large, overstuffed armchair by the fireplace. "It's good to see you up and about again. Care for a drink?" Remus sank into the armchair with a sigh. "Best offer I've had all day. What have you got?" "Oh, a little of this, a little of that," Harry chuckled as he closed the door. Aiming his wand at the fireplace, he lit the logs before walking over to a small storage cabinet next to his telescope and pulling out a bottle and two glasses. "A little Firewhisky after the week I've had sounds like a very good idea." "Sounds wonderful, Harry, but only a little bit for me," Remus said softly, wincing as he stretched one of his legs out in front of him. "Poppy's got me on some medicine that may not sit too well with my usual-sized portion." Harry frowned. It wasn't like Remus to have this much trouble following his transformation. "What happened Wednesday night?" Harry asked, handing his friend a small glass of whisky and sitting opposite him in front of the fire. "The Wolfsbane Potion was a bit off, that's all," Remus said, gazing into his glass. "I've built up enough of a tolerance that if it isn't brewed just right, it's not as effective." Harry's frown deepened. "Did Snape fall asleep while brewing it or something? I'd hoped that once the war was over he'd have got over this animosity he has towards both you and Sirius." Remus waved his hand. "No, Severus's work was impeccable as always. It just happens sometimes, Harry. Don't worry about me."

"I can't help it," Harry said, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass. "You're family." Remus smiled, clearly touched. "Thanks for that, Harry. Anyway, here's to Friday!" Harry raised his glass to clink rims with Remus. The men sat companionably, sipping their whisky for several moments before Remus spoke again. "I believe my absence this week placed a heavier-than-normal burden on your workload, didn't it?" Harry shrugged. "It's okay, although I will say this: I felt a little rusty! I was up most of the night on Wednesday becoming reacquainted with the subject matter. It also reminded me that I've become a bit complacent. As Moody would say, 'constant vigilance!'" Remus chuckled dryly. "He would at that, rest his soul. In any event, I appreciate your help, Harry, and ask that you send along all of the homework that my students turned in to you. There's no need for you to take on the added burden of marking those papers as well as your own. Based on the shape of your desk over there, I'd say your O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. preparation classes are almost getting the better of you!" "You could say that," Harry grumbled, blowing out a breath of frustration. His desk looked as though a small parchment factory had exploded on top of it. "The sad thing is they've got so much potential, but you wouldn't know it based on the crap they turn in! These kids...sometimes I think their intellectual curiosity has run off on holiday to the Riviera." Remus snorted. "They're teenagers, Harry! Fifteen, sixteen, seventeen years old, and up to their noses in homework from their evil professors. Meanwhile, their hormones are raging and distracting them from the tasks at hand." He shot Harry a glance over the rim of his glass. "Surely you remember what that was like." Harry blanched. Given the tone in Remus' voice and the look in his eye, Harry was quite certain his friend had an entirely different pair of hormonally-impaired individuals in mind. "How long have you known?" Remus' tired eyes lit up with delight as he set his glass down onto the small table in front of him with a clatter. "For certain? Not until this moment. But I've been putting together bits and pieces since Ron and Hermione's little one was born."

"God," Harry said, shoving his glasses up onto his forehead and burying his face in his hands. Well, so much for being discreet. "Was it that obvious?" "No, Harry, not at all," Remus said, a note of concern coloring his voice. "It's only because I know you as well as I do. I know how much she's meant to you all these years. Of late you have just seemed...lighter somehow." Harry lowered his hands and let his glasses plop back down onto his nose. "We're trying to be very careful." "And you have been," Remus agreed. Harry tipped his glass up for a long pull of whisky. "Although Ginny should be schooled to guard her expressions a bit more carefully." Harry choked. "What?" Remus smiled. "It was this morning, when you were cornered by those seventh-year Gryffindor girls in the Great Hall after breakfast, Harry. I thought she was going to explode!" Harry struggled to recall what had happened. Then, in a blinding rush, he remembered: Angela Collins and Maria Emmanuel had asked him about their N.E.W.T. Preparation class. They had been standing awfully close to him, hadn't they? And then he remembered Angela leaning close to him for a second and brushing his arm with her bosom"Oh god," Harry moaned, his head once again in his hands. "Harry," Remus chuckled, giving him a poke in the arm, "it was all perfectly innocent, we both know that! And so does Ginny! It was just a split-second glance, I swear. She didn't give a thing away to anyone who wasn't paying close attention to her. But I am awfully glad she didn't have a knife in her hand at that moment." Harry raised his head and glanced over at Remus, feeling his face glowing red with embarrassment. "Now, I can assume that you haven't told Sirius yet, am I right?" Harry nodded. "Any particular reason why not?"

"The right time hasn't presented itself. I figured I would tell him tomorrow," Harry said, drinking the rest of his whisky, rising from his seat and walking back over to the cabinet. He grabbed the bottle and returned to his chair. "I'm hoping he's free to meet with Ron and me in Hogsmeade." Remus blinked. "You and Ron? Back in Hogsmeade together? Should we contact some referees, have an ambulance at hand?" Harry smiled. "No, that won't be necessary; we've managed to sort through quite a bit since the last time we were both in Hogsmeade." Harry told Remus about his trip to London with Ginny and the talk he'd had with Ron and Hermione. When he finished, Remus rose from his chair and stood next to the mantle. "So, they know everything, then," Remus said, his voice sounding weary. "Yes they do. They had to, if I'm going to put things right with the people that mean the most to me." Harry rose from his seat and stood next to his friend. "I didn't know it at the time, but it's one of the decisions I had to make if I was to come back to the wizarding world, Remus. All those years away from here, the time I spent at Oxford, it was what I had to do in order to clear my head of what had happened here: the war, losing Ginny, everything. And I have to tell you that sharing the details of why I left with them has been one of the most freeing things I've ever done. To know that they know and that they still accept me; that they don't see me as a murderer. It's indescribable the relief it's given me." Remus nodded. "I can see it in your eyes, Harry. I know how heavy this burden has been for you to carry all this time. I also know that it's been a secret Sirius has had to guard with his life for some time." "I know, I know," he muttered. "And I know every time I speak of it, the danger to him grows. But how could I hope for a normal life with Ginny, if she didn't know? If Ron and Hermione didn't know?" They were silent for a while. As Remus returned to his seat, Harry poured himself another small glass of whisky and began to pace in front of the fire. After several moments, Remus cleared his throat, drawing Harry's attention once more. "You realize that, by telling Ron the details, you may have placed his career in jeopardy?"

Harry's stomach churned. "I've been trying not to think about that." "I'm not saying that to make you feel worse, Harry, I hope you realize that." "I do, believe me, I do." He paused, giving his scalp another hard scratch and combing his fingers through his hair. "When I spoke to Ron, he seemed to think I had a defense for what I'd done." "We've been trying to tell you that for years," Remus snorted. Harry frowned. "I know that! I wasn't ready to hear it then. In any event, Ron suggested that I speak with a barrister. Someone he knows from work." "Not a bad idea," Remus agreed. "I'd need to Pensieve my memories so that his friend could examine the evidence. To confirm if I had a defense." He returned to the chair opposite Remus and sat down, placing his hand on his friend's arm. "I know Sirius has been working to cover up for me long enough. With the recent reports of my wandless magic, it's inevitable that something will come up, that the details of what happened at Malfoy Manor will come to light. It's time for me to be responsible. We've got to be ready, though. We need to be proactive, should anything happen to bring this out into the open." "You know both Sirius and I will do anything to help you, Harry," Remus said, soberly. "I really think you should talk to him, before you start recording anything." "I will, I promise," Harry said. Remus nodded. "All right then. So, about Ginny..." Harry groaned. "Now, now, it's my job to be nosy at a time like this! You two are being careful, aren't you?" "REMUS," Harry growled. "Of course we are! We know we need to take things slowly, and Merlin knows, neither of us are ready to...well..." "Start a family?" Remus suggested. Harry blushed scarlet. "We've still got far too many things to deal with before we're anywhere near something as serious as that, Remus. We've only

scratched the surface of why I left her. Don't get me wrong; while we were in London last weekend we had the chance to talk about some things. But there's still so much about her time in France that I don't know about, just as she doesn't know about my time in Oxford." "Well, since the two of you are...intimately involv-" "For the love of God, Remus!" Harry barked, wishing the floor would swallow him whole. "Well? It's the truth, isn't it?" Remus countered. "What other reason could there be for you to have been so concerned about keeping your relationship secret if the two of you were simply seeing one another for an occasional trip to Hogsmeade? You're young, attractive and single people. Both of you are in the same line of work. You've known each other for almost two decades. It would be natural for the two of you to be drawn together, despite your previous history with one another." "Just get to the point," Harry fumed. He hated it when Remus was right. "Have you had a chance to talk about your relationships since you parted?" Harry rolled his eyes. "What relationships? The few times I tried to date I spent my time wishing they were Ginny. Hell, Rachel even looked like Ginny!" "Yes...Rachel," Remus said, an amused grin crossing his face. "Sirius and I both liked her quite a lot." "Rachel was a mistake and you know it," Harry said, scowling. "Like you're hoping Ginny's involvement with Christopher Ollivander was a mistake?" Remus asked. Harry's scowl deepened. "You just had to bring him up, didn't you?" "I noticed he and his uncle have opened a shop in Hogsmeade, so I'll admit it's been on my mind a bit," Remus said. "Ginny was seeing him for a time, right?" Harry gave a sharp nod.

"Was it serious?" Harry chewed the inside of his lip and realized he was clenching his fists. "He wanted it to be. I think he proposed to Ginny. If I hadn't come back, I think she would have accepted." "Are you worried?" "No, but I don't plan to rub his nose in the situation either, Remus," Harry snapped, wishing only seconds later that he could have bitten off his tongue. "I'm sorry; there was no need to snap at you. I think you've just managed to touch upon several of my insecurities about this situation tonight." "It's quite all right, Harry," Remus said softly, "I'd imagine Ollivander is a bit of a touchy subject between the two of you. However, knowing you as I do, I know you'd never do such a thing to him." "You're right," Harry said quietly. He set his glass down on the table as Remus stood from his chair. "He's a part of her past, and I have to respect that. Goodness knows she had the right - I walked out on her nine years ago." "You're a good man, Harry," Remus said, clapping him on the shoulder. "I need to head back to my rooms if I'm going to get through those papers before Sunday night." "Can you meet us in town tomorrow afternoon?" Harry asked. "Meet Sirius and me, after we chat? I still need to confirm it with him, of course. If he agrees, I think it would be a good chance to for the three of us get caught up on things. I'm sure he'd love to see you." "What about Ginny? Isn't she going with you tomorrow?" Harry shook his head. "Not until later, if then. She has to stay up at the castle - working in the hospital wing with Madam Pomfrey. She said she might be able to join me for dinner, though. What do you say? You can take the mickey out of her for a while if you'd like. It'd certainly be a nice change of pace for me!" Remus smiled. "Perhaps I will. Floo me when you're finished and I'll meet you at the Three Broomsticks."

"Sounds good," Harry said, taking the Defense class' parchments and folding them neatly into a portfolio. "Let me know if you need any help with those." "I promise," Remus said. "Congratulations, Harry. Ginny's a wonderful girl and the two of you were meant for one another. Anyone with eyes in their heads can see that." As Harry watched his friend and former professor walk slowly down the stairs, he wondered if Ollivander would see that as well. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Around midnight, Sirius rose from his desk to get a drink of water. He'd been expecting a Floo from Remus for hours and had started to worry until the fire in the fireplace roared to life. Smiling, he picked up the pitcher and walked over to his favorite armchair. He started frowning as soon as he saw Remus' face. "What on earth happened to you?" he bellowed, foregoing the armchair to sit down crosslegged in front of the fireplace. He set the pitcher down on the floor with a thud. "Lovely to see you too, dear Padfoot," Remus grumbled. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Sirius said, shaking his head, "but you look awful!" "You're doing so much better now, Sirius. Want to go three for three?" He winced. "You're right - I'm an ass." "No arguments there," Remus snapped. "Look, I said I'm sorry," Sirius said with a growl. "I'm just worried about you, Moony. Your transformations aren't getting any easier, and we're not getting any younger." Remus eyed Sirius's still-black mane of hair. "Easy for you to say. You still look like you're in your early 30's." Sirius smirked. "Flatterer."

"Anyhow, I am tired, so do you want to hear the news or not?" Remus said, a teasing smile on his face. "Of course I do," Sirius agreed. "How's our Harry?" "Blissfully in love with Ginny Weasley, of course," Remus said with a chuckle. "But is it reciprocated?" Sirius asked. Remus nodded, his face breaking into a huge smile. . "I'm certain it is, but I don't think either of them has shared their feelings with the other." "You mean he hasn't told her he loves her yet?" I'll wring the boy's neck the next time I see him. "What on earth is the boy waiting for? An engraved invitation?" "I think he's concerned about someone from Ginny's past," Remus said, giving Sirius a slightly superior look that he hated. "Christopher Ollivander." "Him?" Sirius grumbled. He recalled meeting the young man at a business dinner a few years ago. "He's a nice enough fellow, but I seem to recall him being a bit staid and quiet. Much too staid and quiet for our Ginny." "Sirius, stop thinking about grandkids." "Dammit, you know me too well!" He paused, gazing at the flames licking around Remus' face. "You're right, of course. As always. They've got quite a bit of history to work through before either of them rush into anything. But the truth of the matter is that Harry and Ginny are meant for one another. Each of them is the other's match in every way. I will say this, though," he shook a finger at Remus. "Harry had better not let her get away again." "I'm most confident he won't, Padfoot." Remus smiled. "And you owe me a Galleon." Sirius winced. "I was hoping you'd forget that." "You can pay me tomorrow," Remus said.

"Tomorrow?" Sirius said, surprised. "Are you coming over for a visit or something?" "No, I'm here until the holidays. Harry is planning on asking you to meet him in Hogsmeade tomorrow. You'll want to be there." "And why is that?" "Because he's told Ginny, Ron and Hermione everything about what happened at Malfoy Manor." Sirius rose to his feet and started to pace in front of the mantel. His mind was racing. He'd known Harry had told Ginny the night she'd received word of her friend's deaths. He hadn't figured Harry would share the news with Ron and Hermione until much further down the road. Then, he realized that that wasn't necessarily true. He knew Harry well enough to know that if he had reconciled with Ginny, he'd feel honor-bound to reconcile with the members of her family in order to make things right again. And if there was a single quality Harry had that Sirius admired above all the others, it was his godson's integrity. He leaned against the mantel. "Well, it was bound to happen sometime. And it's a good sign knowing that he and Ron have resolved their differences enough for him to confide this in him. Of course, that means Ron could be facing some legal troubles if things get out of hand." "Something you've had hanging over your head for some time now," Remus said gently. "I've been worried about this for a while, you know that." Sirius resumed his pacing. "Yes, I do, Moony, and I have to tell you it's something that weighs on my mind as well. But rest assured that I've done everything I can to keep things under wraps. Reports of Harry's wandless magic have been limited to rumors - nothing's been proven-" "Enough people saw him save Ming out there on the pitch," Remus interrupted. "Moony, the witnesses are young, and you know as well as I do how much credence the word of a bunch of underage wizards gets here in the real world," Sirius continued. "And the Malfoys' autopsy reports are secured with all of the other material pertaining to the second war." He paused for a

moment, icy fingers dancing along his spine. "I will admit that they're graphic and descriptive enough so that it wouldn't be that difficult to put two and two together." "My point exactly, Sirius. With the recent attacks, a breach is always a possibility." Sirius stopped pacing and sat down in front of the fire once more. He'd always known this day would come. If worse came to worst, he'd always said he could retire quite happily. But Ron was a rising star in the department, with a family to support and years ahead of him. "Once again, you're right, Moony. We need to start thinking ahead about the possible consequences of someone putting two and two together. Ron can't afford to lose his job." Remus nodded. "Harry said Ron's consulted with a barrister." "Good on Ron," Sirius said, pleasantly surprised. "Did he say who?" "No. Harry didn't mention it to me." "Don't worry...I'll get it out of the two of them." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Following lunch the next day, Harry walked through the main doors of the school on his way to Hogsmeade. The temperature was frigid, the kind of day that made the tips of one's ears scream for mercy from the cold. He clutched the outer lapels of his winter robes close to his chin and picked up his pace. He was due at the twins' joke shop in less than fifteen minutes. He'd been hesitant when Ron had suggested they meet in the rooms above the joke shop, and for good reason. First of all, he hadn't had a chance to talk with them about his disappearance yet. Secondly, they were devious enough to do something embarrassing and, quite possibly, dangerous to him with their entire shop of jokes at their disposal. However, after several moments of bickering over pints of Guinness at the pub Ron had taken him after their talk, Harry'd had to see the logic behind Ron's suggestion. They'd worn out their welcome at the Three Broomsticks - Madam Rosmerta declared that the two of them could not come into her establishment together again for at least a year after the thrashing the place had received in August.

Going to Seamus's pub would have drawn too much attention, and they both knew that the Hog's Head would have had too many ears. The joke shop would provide them the privacy they needed to discuss the subject at hand. Several students greeted him as he walked along the well-worn path to Hogsmeade, and he was reminded of the times he, Ron, Hermione and Ginny had hurried along after several weeks of hard work, glad to be getting away from the castle and homework for an afternoon of fun. He remembered a particularly nice trip in the fall of his sixth year, when he and Ginny had had their first date to town. He slowed his pace and turned back to see the tops of the towers just clearing the trees and wished that she was by his side once more. He'd stopped by the hospital wing before heading out to say a quick goodbye until later. He'd forgotten how gorgeous Ginny looked when she was dressed in her crisp white wizarding robes, her red hair held back in a tight bun. Before he'd been able to comment, she'd taken a quick look around the ward and dragged him to the supply closet before snogging him senseless. Two minutes later, she'd hustled him out of the room, adjusted her cap, whispered, "See you at six o'clock!" and had left him standing in the corridor as though he'd been Stunned. "That's my minx," he said to himself as he rounded the last curve into town. He followed Ron's instructions to get to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. As he walked down the high street, his stomach began to clench with nerves as he began to speculate on their response. With Ron, he'd expected (and received) fury. With Bill, he knew he'd expect cool consideration. From Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, he'd received warmth and acceptance. Percy would be practical and frighteningly reasonable. The twins? Harry stopped in front of their shop, said a prayer and opened the door. Just get it over with. He tensed up the moment he walked into the door. It was quiet. Too quiet. A split second later, Harry felt something being dusted over the top of his head. Looking up, he saw sparkling white bits of fluff landing onto his shoulders and hair. A moment later, he was hanging in midair. The twins appeared around the corner of one aisle, tapping their wands against their hands.

"Look who's popped in for a visit, George!" Fred said with a less-thanfriendly grin. "It's Mr. Potter, our long-lost benefactor!" George quipped. "Breaker of our beloved Ginny's heart," Fred continued, tapping his wand against the palm of his hand. A second later Harry was itching all over. "Get me down!" he bellowed, scratching his stomach feverishly. "We will...eventually," Fred said, a terrible gleam filling his eyes. "Once you swear that you'll never hurt Ginny like that again," George finished. "Nearly broke all of our hearts, Potter-" "Not to mention the hexes if anyone pissed her off-" "Bat-bogeys and hives-" "Let's not forget having all of our hair fall out-" "Took us weeks to start looking normal again-" "Instead of walking, pasty-white cueballs-" "ENOUGH!" Harry roared - the itching seemed to be focusing in one particularly sensitive place, and it wasn't pleasant at all. "For the sake of all that's holy, I promise I'll be good to your sister ...just please make...this...stop!" He watched as the twins looked at one another before peering up at him again. "Right," George said, twirling his wand in his finger before pointing it at Harry's crotch. "Desino Scabies!" "Scabies?!" Harry yelped as he felt an icy cold blast of air hit him in the genitals. "You...you...sorry sacks of maggot-infested shi-" "Oh dear, that will never do," Fred chuckled as he lowered Harry to the floor. "Language, Harry!"

"And you kiss our sister with that mouth, Potter?" George continued. Curled into a fetal position, Harry cradled his genitals in his hands in an effort to return them to a normal temperature. As soon as he could stand he was going to kill both of them. The door above the shop tinkled, revealing Ron standing on the threshold. "What the bloody hell have you two done to Harry?" he bellowed. "Scabies Snow," Fred grinned, conjuring a blanket and tossing it over Harry. Instantly, Harry felt toasty warm all over. Thank Merlin. "New product." Ron winced. "Damn, Harry. They've been trying to get someone to test that for them for months and none of us would go anywhere near it." He turned to the twins. "I should have known you'd do this to him." "We figured since he's missed out on the last nine years of product sampling, he wouldn't mind giving us a hand with this one," George smiled. "We modified it just a little," Fred admitted, "but I think it helped us make our point." Harry rose to his feet with some difficulty and glowered at both of the twins. "I swore I wouldn't hurt either of you. I really did. And it's because I love your sister that I'm not giving into temptation and beating both of you senseless." "Did you hear that, Fred? He loves her!" George said, wiping an imaginary tear. "When's the wedding?" said Fred, clapping Harry on the back. "Don't make me regret this," Harry warned. "So does this mean we're square?" "Absolutely, Harry," George said. "Welcome back, mate." Harry rolled his eyes. At least he still had his hair. Ginny had showed him a picture of the twins after she'd finished with them. He shuddered with the memory. "Let's head upstairs, shall we?"

"Of course! We've got a nice fire going up there for you. Besides," Fred whispered, "we've got some numbers to show you." Fifteen minutes later, Harry stared dumbfounded at the spreadsheet in front of him. Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes was doing well. Very well, as a matter of fact. So well that Harry's initial investment of a thousand Galleons had grown to twenty times that over the past nine years. "Would you like the money wired to your personal account at Gringotts, Harry? Or would you like to re-invest it into the company?" George said, smiling. "Are you mad?" Harry spluttered. "Put it back into the company! I'd be a fool to liquidate now! Well done, you two! I'm sure your mum is proud!" "She hates to admit it, but she is," Fred said with a grin. "Although she still insists we would have done better if we'd taken our N.E.W.T.s, despite the fact that Flitwick gave us honorary marks for the swamp!" As they laughed over the memory the bell over the door to the shop rang out again. Sirius's voice rang out from down below, "Anyone here?" "We'll send him up," George said, filing the spreadsheets away and heading towards the door with Fred. "We've got some tidying up to do after we close up the shop for the day. Make yourselves at home!" He flicked his wand at a cabinet by the safe and several bottles of butterbeer were revealed. "And Harry, thanks for being a good sport." "Think nothing of it," Harry replied, crossing his legs. Laughing, the twins left the room, shutting the door behind them. "Well, that's over with," Ron said, walking over to the cabinet and pulling out three bottles of butterbeer. "Now all you've got left is Bill, and he's the reasonable one out of the bunch." Harry rolled his eyes. "Thanks for that, mate," he muttered, taking a swig of butterbeer. "I'll keep that in mind." The door swung open and Sirius walked into the room, a smile on his face. Harry rose from his seat and embraced his godfather. "Hello, Sirius, I'm so glad you could come." "It's always good to spend time with friends," Sirius said jovially.

"Well, it's important that you be here since what we're talking about today could affect your future, and not in a good way," Harry said. "And for that I'm sorry." "It's something we've known would happen one day," Sirius nodded, taking the butterbeer Ron offered him and sitting down on the couch. "Ron, it's good of you to be here." "Well, now that I know what happened, I want to help however I can," Ron said. "Both Harry and Remus tell me you've consulted a barrister?" "Yes," Ron said, "someone you probably know, as a matter of fact. C. Basil Stapleton." Sirius blinked, looking over the rim of his bottle. "C. Basil Stapleton? The C. Basil Stapleton?" "Yep," Ron said with a smile. "I remembered his name from a discussion a couple of the team members were having about six months ago. He's a former Auror, right?" "I'll say," Sirius agreed. "He was Moody's partner back in the first war. Lost his leg in a particularly nasty battle. He lived, but his wife gave him an ultimatum: he could be an Auror or he could stay married. He chose the latter. I remember Moody calling him every name in the book when he turned in his papers for disability retirement. Started reading the law while he was still in St. Mungo's." He took a long pull from his butterbeer. "He's good, he's very good. If you're an Auror and you are facing legal problems, you call CB. You've done well, Ron!" "Cheers, Sirius." The tips of Ron's ears turned pink. "Well, if the two of you can vouch for him, I'm comfortable with that," Harry said, nodding slowly. "But I want you both to know that I've still got misgivings about this whole thing. I don't want to do anything to hurt either of your careers." "Don't you worry about us, Harry," Ron said firmly. "We'll stand behind you one hundred percent. I'll set up a meeting for next weekend?"

Harry nodded. "Agreed." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The heels of Ginny's boots clicked against the sidewalks along the high street in Hogsmeade. She'd been able to finish early and had changed as quickly as she could to try to find Harry in town. As she passed Madam Puddifoot's Tea Shop, the sign for Ollivander's Wand Shop caught her eye. She glanced at the window - a placard reading "Grand Opening" had been taped against it. Pausing for a moment, she bit her bottom lip and went inside. 18: Hogsmeade to London A bell tinkled merrily to announce her arrival as Ginny walked through the double doors. Ollivander's new location in Hogsmeade had been decorated much like the shop in Diagon Alley: rustic and warm, smelling of fine wood chips and patchouli. Ginny's throat tightened as she breathed in the scent. It reminded her of the first few weeks of her relationship with Christopher and she knew she would always associate the smell with him, regardless of where life's path led her. She'd been thinking of him off and on for the past week, ever since seeing the advertisement at Ron and Hermione's. She wondered how he was doing, if he'd been all right since their last, rather acrimonious, meeting the day of Sammie's funeral. And while she didn't have any doubts about the decisions made that day or the path she was now walking with Harry, she'd already wished Christopher well in her heart. It was time to do it in person. A family stood at the counter where a young woman measured a boy for what must have been his first wand. As Ginny walked around the shop, gazing at the floor to ceiling cabinets filled with dark blue velvet wand boxes, she noticed a large, ornate mirror mounted next to the office door. The craftsmanship of the mirror was glorious, and its gilt frame appeared to be hundreds of years old. The clerk nudged the young boy in front of the mirror to finish her measurements. As she called out the measurements, the details were etched into the glass along the side in gold script. A wonderful innovation, Ginny thought to herself, remembering how Christopher had always looked for pads of paper to jot down the details as he'd waited on customers. She was lost in thought until the door to the office opened, and Ginny's eyes connected with the bright blue eyes of her former beau.

Her first thought was that he'd lost a great deal of weight. His robes hung off his frame and he appeared to be slightly hunched. Merlin, what happened to him? She watched as he walked over to the salesgirl for a moment to confer with her about the boy's wand, his eyes never leaving Ginny's. She stepped away from the mirror and, with her stomach jittering nervously, headed over to where he stood. The closer she got to him, the more details she could pick out, and she grew even more concerned: the edges of a glamour he'd placed on his face, his ghostly pallor and the sweat that stood out along his brow. "Victoria," he said, his voice sounding hoarse, "please let me know if you have any questions. Once you've finished with the Kanes, you can go for the evening. Thank you for your help." He glanced over at the salesgirl, his eyes flicking quickly before returning to Ginny's. "You're welcome, Mr. Ollivander," Victoria said cheerfully. Christopher moved closer to Ginny, and she felt her resolve slowly crumbling. Get a grip, Weasley, she thought to herself, straightening her spine. Just get this over with. "Ginny," Christopher said softly. As he leaned forward, Ginny swallowed hard before offering him her cheek to kiss. "It's good to see you." "And you," Ginny responded, her eyes sliding nervously up to his. "Congratulations on the new shop, Christopher - it's beautiful." She took a step back and walked around the display room, hoping that he wouldn't notice her nervousness too much. "Thank you," he said, glancing about the room. "We thought it would be nice to have a bit of familiarity for our customers here." An uncomfortable silence stretched between them until the doorbell rang out, signaling the departure of his last customers. "I'll be leaving now, Mr. Ollivander," Victoria said, slipping her winter cloak around her shoulders. "See you tomorrow, then!" "Good night," Christopher called out, raising his hand. The doorbell tinkled once more before leaving the room in utter silence. Suddenly alone with the man she'd broken up with only six weeks before, Ginny began to wonder whether her impulsive decision to speak with Christopher had been wise.

Before she could say anything, he touched her shoulder, causing her to jump. "Ginny?" "I'm sorry, Christopher, I shouldn't have come," she said quickly, refastening her cloak. "No, please stay," he urged. "In case you're worried, I've got an assistant working in the back of the shop. Would you be more comfortable if he were out here?" Ginny paused, feeling a little better. Besides, this is Christopher, she thought to herself. He would never hurt me. "No, that's fine, really it is." She fingered one of her gloves. "I suppose I'm just a bit nervous about seeing you again." "Well, to be honest, I was fairly shocked to see you standing there a few moments ago," he said with a smile. "Are you all right?" "Yes, I'm fine," she said quickly. "I...I suppose I wanted to apologize for the way things ended between us, Chris." He shook his head. "No, it was entirely my fault. I should never have approached you at your friend's funeral like I did...pushing myself at you like that. It was the wrong place for a conversation of that nature." "It came as quite a shock to me," she said, nodding. She walked over to the mirror and ran a finger down its frame. The wood was as smooth as the glass itself. "Well, I ask that you accept my apology for my rudeness and assumptions, Ginny," Christopher said, walking over to join her next to the mirror. "I hope that you'll allow me to take you to dinner as a gesture of my sincerity. The Three Broomsticks this evening, perhaps?" Surprised, Ginny looked up into his eyes. He'd always been fairly formal, but something about the way he was speaking caused her brow to furrow. Still, nothing appeared out of the ordinary, with the exception of his weight loss. She shook her head. "I appreciate your invitation, Chris, but I'm meeting Harry there for a bite to eat."

"Oh." Christopher took a step backwards, placing an additional foot of distance between them. "I see." "We've...we've managed to resolve much of what happened when he left nine years ago, so we're-" She struggled for the right thing to say, then realized the right way was the only way to say it. "We're giving our relationship another go. I'm sorry, Christopher." He stared at her for several moments before he nodded and turned to walk around behind the counter. She crossed the room swiftly, intending to speak, when he raised his hand. "It's all right, Ginny." His voice sounded defeated and reedy, and she grew concerned, given his physical condition. "I had a feeling things had changed between the two of you." "How could you have kno-" "There was an announcement in the Prophet this afternoon about your niece's upcoming christening," he said, sitting down on a stool. "It had both of your names listed as godparents. I figured, if you and your brother's family were going to share that responsibility with him, that you must have resolved things." Ginny swallowed. That thrice-damned newspaper will be the death of me. "I'm sorry, Christopher. I wanted to be the one to tell you. That's why I stopped by, you see. I didn't want you hearing it from someone else. And now that I see you here, and you've lost so much wei-" "Don't worry about me, Ginny," he said, a wan smile appearing on his face. "I came down with a nasty bout of the flu right in the middle of the preparations for the shop. I'll be back to my old self again in no time. Besides, it really is for the best." Ginny was about to speak when the bell over the door rang out once more. She turned, all color leaving her face as she saw Harry and Sirius step through the door. Both men looked dark and brooding in their winter cloaks, their black hair gleaming under the lights of the store. Dear Merlin, what now? "Mr. Black and Professor Potter," Christopher said, a faint rush of color riding his cheekbones. "Welcome to Ollivander's."

"Ginny?" Harry said, confusion and possessiveness shimmering in his eyes. "We were heading to the Three Broomsticks and I saw you in here. Is everything all right?" Ginny noted his voice had changed from soft to steely all in the space of one sentence. "Everything's fine, Harry," she said, walking over to his side and slipping her hand in the crook of his arm. "I just came in to wish Christopher well with the new store and ... everything," she added, looking up into Harry's eyes and willing him to understand. "Yes, Potter, everything is fine," Christopher said, walking around the corner. "Ginny and I have had a little talk and, as much as I'm disappointed in knowing that her feelings for me have irrevocably changed, I can't wish her anything but happiness." He extended his hand. "Happiness to both of you." She watched as Harry paused, frowning at Christopher's extended hand for a moment before carefully taking hold of it in his. "Thank you, Ollivander. We appreciate it and wish you all the best as well." Sirius cleared his throat. "We really should be going, Harry. Remus should be waiting for us at the pub by now." Harry touched his free hand to the one Ginny had tucked in his arm. "Ginny? Are you ready to go?" She nodded. "Yes, I am." She looked at Christopher and smiled. "Thank you for being so understanding, Christopher. You're going to make some young woman very happy one day." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The shop owner watched the door close behind Ginny with a click, standing still for several moments. He removed his wand and, with a quick flick, magically flipped the sign from "open" to "closed" and locked the door. He charmed the lights to flicker out and walked steadily over to the office door. As he moved, his pace seemed to shorten a bit and his hair began to lengthen, from collar-length until it passed the middle of his back. He reached for the doorknob and entered the office to find Marcus Flint standing next to the body of a man suspended by his wrists from the ceiling, his eyelids held open as if they had been taped to his forehead. The

prisoner's head was restrained and forced forward so that he had had no choice but to look through the one-way glass directly in front of him. Tears ran down the prisoner's cheeks in rivers as he hoarsely keened against his gag. The shop owner smiled, although it would have been hard for anyone looking at him to tell since the skin on his face was rippling and bubbling convulsively. He pressed a hand to his stomach as his body gave a great lurch, filling out once again to its normal bulk. Draco Malfoy, now freed of the bonds the Polyjuice Potion had cast upon him for the past several hours, strode up to Christopher Ollivander and sneered in his face. "Enjoy the show, Ollivander?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ They walked in silence towards the Three Broomsticks. Harry barely registered the fact that Ginny had to take two steps to keep up with his long stride. He'd been so thrilled with the meeting at the twins' shop - with the exception of their new product, of course - that he'd felt he was walking on air. As he and Sirius had crossed the high street, his eye had caught the gilt letters shining in the light of the gas streetlights. Ollivander's. He had noticed that the shop was in a good location and had been artfully aged to make it appear as though it had been there for years, right down to the wavy panes of glass in the windows. Looking through the window, he'd caught the shimmer of red hair and his breath had stopped in his throat. Why in the hell had Ginny gone in there? His heart had begun to pound heavily in his chest as insecurities mounted in his brain. He knew that she loved him, he just knew it. But do you? a voice whispered silkily in his ear. She hasn't told you, has she? You haven't told her either. Is it because you don't want to give her that power to destroy you again? "No."

"'No' what, Harry?" Sirius's voice had snapped him back. Harry had looked at his godfather, and Sirius had followed his godson's original eye line to notice the sign. "Ah. Yes. Ollivander's shop. What's the problem, Harry?" "The problem is that Ginny is in there," Harry had said through gritted teeth, "and I need to find out why." He'd walked over to the door and had been about to wrench the door open when Sirius had stopped him. "What now, Sirius?" "Do you really want to go tearing in there right now without taking a few deep breaths first?" Sirius had said softly, his gray eyes full of calm and understanding. "I know that you're dying to know why she's in there, but trust me - being calm about this is what you need to be, right now." Harry had stood as still as a statue for several moments before his hand had unclenched from around the doorknob. "You're right. There's time to talk about this later." He'd taken a deep breath and had opened the door. "Harry? Harry?!" Ginny's angry voice jarred him out of his thoughts and he realized, with a start, that they were standing in front of the Three Broomsticks. Calm. He looked down at her, realizing she was a bit winded from the pace and attempted to plaster a calm look on his face. "I'm sorry, Ginny, my mind was elsewhere." "That much was obvious," she snapped. "No doubt where it was." "Ginny, now's not the ti-" "-I'd like to know when it would be a good time to talk about this," she interrupted. "Perhaps," a voice rang out behind them, "it would be best if we postponed our dinner, Harry?" Damn. Sirius. "You know, I think that would be best," Harry said with a nod, released Ginny's hand and held his out for Sirius to shake. "Please give Remus our regrets."

"But what about m-" Ginny squeaked. Harry reclaimed her hand. "You and I need to discuss this. Now." He started down the sidewalk; his temper barely reigned in by the thinnest of threads. Why on earth was she in his shop? Harry fumed as he trudged down the sidewalk. It was supposed to be their first trip into Hogsmeade together. Yes, he'd had to meet with Ron and Sirius at the twins' shop first, but he'd clearly thought that she'd go straight to the Three Broomsticks to meet him. He could hear Ginny's complaints through the buzzing in his ears but didn't stop until they were well along the path back to Hogwarts. Finally, when they had reached the Obelisk of Remembrance he responded to the tugging of her hand and turned to face her. "So? Care to explain?" Ginny's eyes flashed dangerously. "Explain? I shouldn't have to explain anything to you, Harry!" "You're joking, right?" Harry said, incredulously. "You were standing in your former beau's shop! Why would you want to see him after the way he practically forced himself on you at Sammie's funeral?" "He didn't force himself on me, Harry," she snapped. "Christopher is a friend...just a fri-' "Yes, a very good friend," Harry interrupted, raking his fingers through his hair and sending the band holding it in place flying. "A very good friend who was practically staring down your blouse, he was leaning over the top of you the way he was-" "He most certainly was not, you twit!" she shouted. "Please!" Harry countered as crossed his arms in front of his chest. "What was I supposed to think? Acting so solicitous and accepting...'Ginny and I have had a little talk and, as much as I'm disappointed in knowing that her feelings for me have irrevocably changed, I can't wish her anything but happiness.'" He snorted with laughter. "Bollocks." Two seconds later, Harry realized he'd gone too far as her eyes narrowed into slits. "You know something?" Ginny said, her voice soft and precise. He could sense rage coming off of her in waves and the hair on the back of his neck stood up - this was not a good thing. "I think that I should go back

to the castle and you should go STRAIGHT TO HELL!" She turned on her heel and marched up towards Hogwarts. Even the wind grew silent. So much for calm. Harry sat down hard on the edge of the obelisk's pool and cupped his face in his hands. He'd done it again, and in the exact same place he'd done it back in August. He peered up at the obelisk, the names of the fallen shining down upon him - the name "Albus Dumbledore" in particular - before cradling his face in his hands. "I know..." Harry said to no one in particular. "Brian Thomas was right. I am a 'rotten wanker.'" "Really, Harry?" his godfather's voice piped up from behind him. "Perhaps you should get that looked at." Harry jerked his head out of his hands and saw Remus and Sirius walking up the path, both men smiling broadly at him. "What the hell are you two doing here?" he snarled. "There, there, dear godson," Sirius chuckled. "No need to take your frustrations out on us." The two men reached Harry and sat down on either side of him. "I take it you've had a row with Ginny?" "Oh yeah," Harry snapped. "Brilliant deduction, Sirius." "Well, it seems to me the best thing for you to do is try to apologize to her for being an idiot, Harry. And don't interrupt," Sirius said, raising his hand in front of Harry's face. "It was obvious to me that she'd stopped by to say hello. And unless I'm mistaken he's relinquished the field to you, despite the fact that you're the one who swooped in and stole his girl out from under his nose. So I don't know why you're so upset about this." Harry's stomach twisted into a knot. Sirius was right, of course. They'd both been in the room to hear it for themselves. Ollivander had practically given them his blessing, for Merlin's sake! "Bloody hell..." Harry mumbled, defeated. "Now what do I do?" Sirius clasped his shoulder. "Go up to the castle, take her flowers and candy" "Or, better yet, some dinner-" Remus interjected.

"-dinner would be good, beg for forgiveness and, most importantly, tell her how you feel about her, Harry." Sirius smiled into his eyes. "She needs to know." Nodding, Harry rose to his feet and was joined by the two men he'd always considered his family. "I guess that means I've got my work cut out for me." Remus chuckled. "You have no idea." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Three hours later, Harry walked out of the en suite in his rooms, drying his hair. He'd run straight up to the castle after his conversation with Sirius and Remus and spent two of those hours making arrangements for the evening. He'd raided the greenhouses for flowers while everyone was at dinner and cajoled Hedwig to fly over to the Range for something Sirius had said would help. Harry had balked at the time, saying he'd already gone the jewelry route the last Christmas he'd shared with Ginny, but Sirius had told Harry to trust him on this. Once he'd seen what Sirius had in mind he'd had to agree. Wrapping the towel around his waist, he looked at the photograph Sirius had sent along with Hedwig. It was a photograph of Harry and Ginny taken the summer before his seventh year at Hogwarts. Harry had had it packed away with some of his things after he'd fled the Burrow and had chosen to leave it behind at the Range before heading off to Oxford. Harry remembered the day the photo had been taken as though it were yesterday. They'd been sitting under their favorite apple tree in the orchard next to the Burrow, talking about the future and watching the sun set. Ginny had been sitting between his legs, her back snuggled up against his chest. He'd remembered wrapping his arms around her waist to hold her close. The next thing he'd known, it was after dark - they'd fallen asleep. After he'd woken Ginny, they'd stumbled back to the house, only to be met by Ron and Hermione's knowing smirks. They'd tried to play it off, but a week later, Hermione had tucked a photo under his pillow. She'd had it magically developed so that it, like all magical photos, moved. The photo showed him and Ginny slumbering, his hand occasionally coming up to finger her hair; her hands gently caressing his forearms. They'd been in such a state of peace that he'd treasured the photo from that day forward.

After his flight from the Burrow, seeing the picture had been too painful, so he'd packed it at the bottom of his trunk, wishing to never see it again. Leave it to Sirius to find it and send it just when he needed it. And, as if that weren't perfect enough, to have it beautifully matted and framed as well. Of course, Sirius's note, which had come tucked into the frame, had said it all: Figured you'd need something like this to get yourself out of a ridiculous situation, Potter. Now tell the girl you love her, already! Placing the photo on the bed, he rummaged around in the drawer of his bedside table for the Marauder's Map, checked to make sure Ginny was where (if his plans had gone smoothly) he thought she would be, and dressed as quickly as possible. As he tucked the photo into a side pocket of his loose-fit trousers, he sent up one more supplication that she wouldn't slam the door in his face. The request sure as hell couldn't hurt. He stepped into the corridor and performed a Disillusionment Charm over his head, waiting until the shivery, wet-egg feeling shimmered down around his ankles before setting off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower. He moved quietly; there were still a few students wandering the hallways, and it was best if he wasn't seen by anyone, including Filch and Mrs. Norris. As he approached the Fat Lady's portrait, he heard Ginny's voice ringing up from downstairs. "Dobby, I'm tired and just want to go to my rooms for the night!" "But the prefects needs Miss Wheezy upstairs! Miss Wheezy needs to go up there now!" Harry walked silently down the steps and almost laughed out loud at the tableau before him. Dobby had ahold of Ginny's lower leg and had dug in his little heels to try to keep her still. Ginny, her hair falling down loose around her shoulders, was trying to pry his hands loose from her calf. "I was just up there, Dobby, and there's nothing going on that they can't deal with! Please, I've had a horrid day, and I just want to go to sleep, if that's all right with you!" she shouted, grabbing hold of one of Dobby's long fingers and giving it a hard tug.

"Ouch!" Dobby squealed and snatched his captured hand away from her, sucking the injured finger in his mouth. "Miss Wheezy has to stay here! He'll be here any minute!" Having a house-elf for a friend came in handy. It's now or never, Potter, Harry thought to himself, as he muttered the countercharm. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny's eyes widened as she saw the top of Harry's head appear as if from thin air and swore under her breath. She'd just spent the last several hours doing her best to rein in her temper and had almost succeeded. She'd thought about the situation and had tried to see it from his perspective and, after much internal grumbling, she'd had to admit he'd had a point. It had been less than 48 hours since she'd cornered him outside of his office by the Quidditch pitch and pounced on him like a scarlet woman. They'd giggled and laughed, felt conspiratorial and carefree one moment, fiery and impassioned the next. She'd come so close to telling him how she felt that night, but had wanted to wait until the timing and the setting was different. How could she have told him she loved him, sprawled atop him like a wanton? Such important words and feelings should be accompanied with candles and music, fine food and wine. Then, just this afternoon, she'd dragged him into the storage closet in the infirmary and kissed the living daylights out of him. Out of yourself as well, if you're being honest, missy, a voice had niggled in her head. But the voice was right: she'd had a time remembering which charm to cast on the patients for several moments after he'd left. Had she been thinking about that when she walked into Christopher's shop? Not at all. No, she'd been impulsive, and despite Harry's behavior in the shop, she should have known he'd want to hear an explanation from her. "Well, he didn't have get so shirty about it," she'd muttered to herself. Now, as the charm slithered down his body, dressed in the forest-green turtleneck jumper and black cargo trousers that she'd picked out for him while they'd been in London (because they fit him so very well), she could feel her temper simmering back up to a boil.

She felt Dobby relinquish the vise-like grip he'd had on her calf and narrowed her eyes. "I should have known you would have had something to do with this, Harry." "Gin, please," Harry said, reaching out his hand towards hers. She jerked her hand out of the way and stuck it into her pocket. "All right, can we go in and talk? Just talk? I want to apologize." She frowned up at him. "Just talk?" Harry nodded. Merlin, he looks so pathetic standing there, his eyes full of remorse, she thought to herself. Guilt nibbled on her resolve, but only for a moment - he had, after all, worn his hair loose. He knew when he did that it made her fingers itch to touch it. Hound. "Well, all right." she muttered. She turned, opened the door to her rooms, and let out a gasp of shock. He'd filled the room with lilies. Lilies of every color, from icy-white to the deepest of red. She would have thought that the scent from so many lilies would have been overwhelming. Leave it to Harry and Dobby to make sure the fragrance would be heady and sweet rather than cloying. Next to the fireplace, a table for two had been set with crystal wineglasses and golden plates topped with succulent roast chicken and winter vegetables. Candles flickered everywhere and a low fire simmered in the hearth. Music softly surrounded them from somewhere, quiet lutes and harp as though dancing on a breeze. Candles and music, she thought to herself. Fine wine, food and flowers, too. "Ginny?" She startled at his voice behind her. Turning to face him, her eyes filled with tears. He took her hands in his, raising them both up to his lips for a kiss. "I'm so sorry for the way I behaved earlier," he murmured, his right thumb rubbing light circles along the top of her left hand before moving up to cradle her cheek. "I was rude and insulting, letting my own insecurities rob me of my judgment. Please forgive me for jumping to conclusions." She nodded, her tears falling at last, and he caught one on the edge of his thumb. "I'm sorry I was such a prat, Harry. I should have known that

finding me in Christopher's shop would have been difficult for you. Please forgive me!" He smiled, then pressed his lips to hers. Moments passed as she deepened the kiss, her fingers reaching up to thread through the hairs at the nape of his neck. She sighed into his mouth as she felt his arms wrap around her waist and hold her tight against his body, and she knew she'd come home. He broke the kiss and gazed into her eyes. "I love you, Ginny." She froze, feeling a buzzing in her ears swell until all she could hear was her own heartbeat. All she could see were his eyes, his beautiful, shimmering green eyes, the emotion so raw and clear in them that she involuntarily clenched her fingers tighter into his hair and made him yelp. "I'm sorry!" she squeaked, untangling her fingers and flinging her arms around his neck, pressing kisses along the ridge of his jaw as he lifted her off her feet and swung her around. As they spun, he whispered, "I love you" over and over again, and finally she could do nothing but respond as she'd been meant to. "I love you, too, Harry." He smiled, his eyes sparkling with happiness before she captured his lips against hers in a savage kiss. He growled into her mouth, and his hands shifted down to cup her body against his. Her feet touched the floor again, and instantly her hands shifted to grasp the hem of his sweater to yank it over his head. Until they heard a discreet cough coming from a few feet from where they stood. They sprang apart with a jump when they realized they weren't alone. Dobby stood by the doorway, waving at them with two of his long fingers. "Harry Potter, Dobby placed warming charms on both of the plates and Dobby has taken care of keeping Miss Wheezy's cat away from here for the evening," Dobby said in one breath. "Is there anything else Dobby can do for Harry Potter, sir? A Silencing charm on the door, per-" "That'll be all, Dobby," Harry interrupted, tugging his jumper back into place, his voice gruff and his face brick red. "Thank you for all your help tonight. I think I can take it from here."

"Anytime, Harry Potter! Anytime!" Dobby squeaked. With a snap of his fingers he was gone. Ginny looked up into Harry's eyes, eyes that had gone hot and dark with promise. He really is adorable when his hair is a wreck, his cheeks are flushed and his glasses are perched catawampus on his nose, she thought to herself. And he's all mine. A soft smile teasing her lips as her fingers slid under the jumper and up his naked chest. "Now, where were we?" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ An hour later, Harry and Ginny found themselves snuggled up within the duvet on her bed, nibbling on the excellent dinner Dobby had prepared. Harry had chosen to walk over to the table to fetch their supper, not trusting himself to Summon the plates to the bed. Ginny's stomach had given a rather loud growl as they lay entwined a few moments before and they'd shared a hearty laugh - they'd worked up quite an appetite. As he munched on a bite of chicken, he smiled at Ginny, who was busily attacking a drumstick. She was snuggled up beside him, tucked in amidst the duvet, her hair tousled and her cheeks rosy from their lovemaking. He wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of his life sharing moments like this with her. She peeked up at him through her lashes, swallowed and giggled. "Knut for your thoughts, Harry?" I love you and I want to marry you as soon as humanly possible? "We'll get to those in a minute," he hedged, setting his plate down and wiping his mouth with a napkin. He watched her eying his lips with rapt interest and knew he needed to get the rest of this out before he accepted the invitation in her eyes. "I just want to be sure we're okay with what happened today. We are, right?" "I would have hoped that much was crystal clear!" Ginny said, laughing and setting her own plate down on the bedside table. "All right, minx," he said, feeling his cheeks blush. "But even you have to admit that Ollivander's response was a bit surprising, right?" "Yes," she said as she wiped her hands and sat up on the bed. "I must say it was."

"He's had some time to think about it," Harry offered, as much to convince himself as her. "That's true, but..." She paused, nibbling her lower lip as a frown furrowed her brow. "What is it, Gin?" Harry said, concern starting to gnaw at the edges of his mind. She looked at him for a moment, then turned to face him, her eyes very serious. "He's lost a lot of weight, Harry. I mean, he's never been hulking like Ron or the twins, but when I saw him today, I have to say I was worried." "Well, perhaps the opening to the store took more out of him than anticipated?" Harry mused. "Granted, the only other time I've seen Ollivander was that unfortunate night at the Three Broomsticks. I did notice that he wasn't a small man." He toyed with a strand of Ginny's hair as she arched her brow at him. "I was a bit more pre-occupied by the fact that he'd just snogged you senseless in front of me, so my attitude towards him that evening wasn't very charitable." He popped a piece of melon into his mouth. "And I had to size him up a bit to determine whether or not I could take him." Ginny smirked and gave Harry a light punch in the arm. "Let's not re-open that can of worms, all right? In any event, Christopher did say he'd been ill." "Then there you go," Harry said, taking one of her hands in his and kissing her wrist. "Now, as much as I'd love to continue talking about your former boyfriend-" Ginny snorted "-I'd like to tell you a bit about my meeting with your brothers and Sirius." He recounted the twins' prank, which resulted in gales of laughter from Ginny ("so that's why you've got all those scratch marks on your belly!"), the investment from the company, which had her goggling, and Sirius's reaction to the barrister. "He sounds like a good man," Ginny said, nibbling on a grape.

"I think Ron's trying to schedule something for next Friday afternoon - the barristers don't keep Saturday hours - which means I'll have to plead with Professor McGonagall for time to head to London again." He cupped her cheek in his hand. "I suppose I dare not hope that you could sneak away with me? We could stay in London again..." He pressed a nuzzling kiss along her neck and smiled as she stretched to grant him better access. "Maybe see another show?" Maybe shop for a ring? "We've got the christening on Sunday," she murmured, purring like her cat. "I suppose it's worth a try." "Excellent!" Harry smiled, tossing the remaining grapes over onto the bedside table. "Listen, there's something I want to give you." She smiled at him, her eyes sparkling. "You've given me so much tonight, Harry." "It's just a little something, really," he said, brushing a kiss across her temple. "Something that I've had for years and, to be honest, had forgotten about until tonight." He raised his hand, holding it in the direction of the mound of clothing by the fireplace. "Accio trousers!" he shouted. The black trousers landed with a soft flump onto the bed, and he dug inside one of the pockets. He could sense Ginny's eyes watching his movements with rapt interest. "What is it, Harry?" she said with a slight giggle. "You've gone so serious all of a sudden." He closed his hand on the photograph and turned to face her. "This is one of the things I treasured during my last year at school. I had it on my bedside table in the dormitory, and got my fair share of ribbing for it." He lifted his free hand to stroke her hair, her cheek. "Whenever I'd looked at it, I always found myself hoping it would have been a window into our future. A future of peace and contentment." He pulled the little photo from his pocket and turned it so that she could see. "It's beautiful," she murmured, reaching out to lift it from the palm of his hand. Her fingertip traced the line of his body in the photo, and he shivered as if she'd touched him the same way.

"Little did I know that that future would have come at such a high cost and after so many years. I'd like to think that, after what we've shared tonight, it's something we could still find with one another." He noticed that tears streamed freely down her cheeks as she brought one of her hands up to cover her mouth. "I'd like that very much, too." Harry blinked several times to clear his eyes before leaning towards her to kiss her gently on the lips. As they separated, she leaned across him to place the photo on her bedside table. He captured her in his arms as she leaned back, snuggling her close against his side. "I love you, Ginny. I always have, and I always will." "I love you too, Harry," she said, pressing kisses near his ear and down along his jaw line. He smiled, drawing back from her a bit. "Now, let's see if we can't find something interesting to do with that bowl of strawberries and clotted cream." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Minerva McGonagall settled in for her favorite pastime: afternoon tea. She'd returned from Llangynidr in Wales late the night before following contentious negotiations with representatives from wizarding families from all over Britain. Several of them had proposed the development of wizarding primary schools, which would offer pre-secondary preparation. They'd seen the logic of banding together to ensure the selected curriculum would prepare and enhance the young wizard's and witch's skills before they entered Hogwarts; however, as the children were scattered from one end of the country to the next, working out the logistics of such an endeavor had been something of a nightmare. Wizarding parents who were themselves Muggle-born had expressed concern that such primary schools would set other Muggle-born children at a disadvantage upon entering Hogwarts. Within moments, accusations had flown across the table, with the Muggleborn wizards eyeing their peers on the other side of the argument as if they were Dark Wizards out to purify wizarding blood. In the end, they'd made impressive headway and had formed a committee to pursue the necessary capital in order to proceed further, after securing the assurances of all involved that there would be no practice of magic, merely wizarding teachers in place to control accidents and the freedom to arrive at school via

Floo. Their next meeting was scheduled to take place just after the holidays in Hogsmeade. Thank Merlin she was back here. She'd always known that dealing with the political side of the job as headmistress would be a difficult one for her to manage: it was a well-known fact that she had a rather sharp tongue. That said, she wouldn't have given up the post for the world. On second thought, I would...if Albus was still here. His death had been devastating to them all, but Minerva had felt it even more keenly than most. He'd been her dearest friend and confidante, the one she'd turned to for advice, laughter and objectivity. She hoped that he would have been proud of the accomplishments she'd made in the school since his death and, on occasion, she saw him grinning down upon her from his portrait, his eyes twinkling as they'd done during his lifetime. She blinked rapidly to clear the misty tears from her eyes and started through the reports on her desk. Things were going well as they approached the holiday season. Pomona's fourth year Ravenclaw Herbology class were steamrolling their way towards O.W.L.-level studies, and Severus's seventh year Gryffindor Potions class were leagues ahead of their counterparts in Slytherin. A fact that must irritate him to no end, Minerva thought to herself with glee. I may have to set up another friendly wager with him at dinner this evening. Speaking of wagers, it was time pay him for their other wager since it was clear that Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley had reconciled. Oh, it hadn't been obvious. She had to give them credit for being cautious, but the evidence was there if you knew where to look for it. An occasional glance during meals; the way her eyes would follow him across the courtyard - oh yes, the evidence was there. The long and the short of it was that she'd been happy to know that the two of them had resolved whatever differences had come between them from the past and looked forward to watching their relationship blossom. As long as it doesn't interfere with their work, she thought to herself as she bit into a lovely cucumber sandwich. And, so far, it hadn't. Both Harry and Ginny were well-liked by their students, fair when it came to homework and disciplinary issues, challenging with their curriculum choices and innovative

with their ideas for O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. preparatory classes. In fact, they were doing remarkably well for two people besotted with one another. The only problem area involved their repeated absences from the school on weekends. Granted, the weekend of the Gryffindor/Ravenclaw match was reasonable - they'd been called to the side of Ginny's brother and sister-inlaw. She'd acquiesced in letting them leave again two week later, much to Severus's chagrin. They'd been named godmother and godfather, after all. But Severus did have a point - it wasn't fair to the other staff on hand to cover for two of their co-workers, and the two newest professors on staff at that. As she looked through the list of students who would be staying at the castle during the holidays, she was glad she'd insisted on Harry and Ginny staying to chaperone them. Of course, Minerva chuckled to herself as she popped the last bit of sandwich into her mouth, who will chaperone the chaperones? A knock rang out on her door. "Yes, come in," she said, then smirked as she saw who it was. Speak of the devil. Harry walked over the threshold, a lightweight robe casually draped over hand-woven jumper and jeans. If it weren't for the white stripe streaking through his hair, he could have been one of her seventh years. "Good afternoon, Harry. Would you care for some tea?" "Well..." Harry stammered slightly, twiddling his wand between the fingers of his right hand, "thank you very much." Hmmm...he wants something. "I was just reviewing the report on Remus's Defense Against the Dark Arts classes from last week," she said as she poured a cup of tea then filled a plate with sandwiches. "You did quite well with them during his transformation." "Thank you, Profe-" "Oh, come now, Harry," Minerva said, her brows beetling together as she set the cup of tea down in front of him with a thud. "Isn't it about time you started calling me Minerva?" He blushed, picking up the cup she offered him. "You're quite right, MMinerva."

She relaxed a bit, setting the plate of sandwiches down without a sound. "We are very fortunate to have you here to help us with Remus's classes, Harry. Knowing your capabilities, I was able to focus my attention on the tasks at hand in Wales rather than worrying about how we would manage." "I'm happy to assist whenever you need me to, Minerva," Harry said, taking a bite out of one of the sandwiches. "Well, I'll assume you didn't come up here for idle chit-chat, Harry," she said crisply. "What can I do for you?" He took a gulp of tea and wiped his mouth. "I wanted to tell you that Ginny Weasley and I have...er..." He paused, searching for the right word. "The two of you have rekindled your previous relationship?" He blushed and Minerva was certain that he would have given any of the Weasley boys a run for their money in that department. "Then may I offer you my congratulations, Harry?" "Thank you, M-Minerva," he said with a shy smile. "We're not at the point where we plan on making any major announcements, but since you are not only a friend but our employer, we wanted to let you know we intend on being very discreet about this. We still have some things to resolve." "I understand completely, Harry," she said. She reached for a tin of Ginger Newts. "Have a biscuit?" "Thank you," he said, reaching into the tin. "One of the things that need to be resolved is what happened to me nine years ago, the night before the final battle of Hogsmeade." Minerva fell still. Even as close as she'd been to the major players in the battle, she'd never been privy to many of the incidents that had occurred towards the end of the war. "Harry, is there something you're trying to tell me?" "Yes," he said. "I realize this is an enormous imposition...but Ginny and I need to go to London next Friday afternoon so I was wondering if we could stay there for the entire weekend?"

Minerva closed her eyes. If she hadn't known him better, she would have sworn he'd been practicing his Legilimency again. "I've made arrangements for my seventh year Ravenclaws to perform independent study that day," Harry continued on in a rush, "and I know Ginny is working on finding someone to cover Charms for the afternoon." "Harry, we have discussed this before," she said, peering at him over her spectacles. "Your repeated absences from the castle on weekends have created an imposition on the senior members of the staff. Now, you've been given special permission to be gone next Sunday for your goddaughter's christening, but I'm sorry I simply must put my foot down concerning Friday and Saturday as well." "Minerva, please," Harry said, his eyes intense. "The reason I need to go is that I need to speak with an barrister. Because of recent events, specifically my wandless magic on the Quidditch pitch last month, there's a need for me to seek legal advice to deal with a matter that occurred the night before the final battle." She could feel herself wavering, but stood her ground. "Harry, I'm sorry. I've already given several other staff members permission to be away from the castle and cannot spare two more." He nodded, his mouth grim. "If...if Ginny agreed to stay behind, could I persuade you to let me go alone on Friday, at least? I would come back to the castle as soon as I finished, then we could leave for the christening on Sunday morning." "You'd make two trips into London in 72 hours?" she said, completely baffled by his insistence. "What on earth could be this important, Harry?" She could tell he was struggling with something; she'd seen a similar look on his face a long time ago. "I murdered Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy." "Murd-" she stammered. Her tea cup fell from her slackened fingers and shattered into thousands of pieces. If he'd told her the moon was made from green cheese she wouldn't have been more shocked. "What do you mean, you mur - murdered the Malfoys, Harry?"

Thirty minutes later, she sat motionless in her chair, the shock of Harry's story still ringing in her ears. Nine years the boy had wandered, carrying around this secret, sharing it only with those closest to him. Well, all but one, she thought to herself. She dug in her pocket for a handkerchief and blew her nose. "Now can you understand why I have to speak with this barrister?" he said, tipping his glasses up onto his forehead and rubbing his eyes. As he dropped his hands, his glasses fell back onto the bridge of his nose with a plop. "You saw the report Skeeter had in last week's Prophet, right? It talks about my ability to use wandless magic. The reports from that night at Malfoy Manor make clear reference to the impression of palm prints on Lucius's chest. With the recent attacks by these neo-Death Eaters, it could be enough to bring instability within the Ministry. If the information from the war files should get into the wrong hands, I could be charged with murder, and I can't have that happen. The only time thebarrister is available to meet is this Friday, so you see, I have to be there." "Oh no, I agree with you, Harry." Minerva rose from her seat and paced in front of the fire. "You've no choice but to be there. But Ginny too?" "I'd like for her to come with me for moral support." He stared down at his hands and she noticed that a smile tugged at one corner of his mouth. "Ginny's stood by my side, ever since I told her about it back in October. She was there for me a few weeks ago when I told Ron and Hermione what happened. I honestly don't know if I could have done it without her." When he lifted his head, Minerva was shaken by the emotions she saw storming in his eyes: the love he felt for Ginny Weasley, the fear over what could happen and the determination to see that it didn't. The weight of the world seems to be sitting on his shoulders once again. She walked over to where he sat and placed her hand on his shoulder. Give the lad a break, Minerva. "I'll see what I can do to make arrangements for both you and Ginny for Friday and Saturday, Harry." Her heart swelled as she watched the smile which had ghosted his face moments burst into one of pure relief. "It may not be until the late afternoon, but I'll see what I can do. What time is your appointment with counsel?" "Half-past four," Harry whispered, clearly still incredulous over her decision. "Minerva... now I've placed you in danger as well."

"Don't you worry about me, Harry," she said, walking around the desk to stand next to him. She patted his arm. "We've dealt with more dangerous foes than this, haven't we? Now, I'll do my best to see if I can free you both up to leave at four on Friday, then." "Thank you again, Minerva," Harry said as he rose to leave. She waved as he exited her office, still stammering his thanks. I really am an old softy. Severus will have a fit. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A light rain began to fall as they left the Leaky Cauldron. Harry pulled the collar of his overcoat higher, adjusted his fedora and walked into the rain. Ron followed after him; his long stride was not of much use on the narrow sidewalks surrounding Diagon Alley. Once they passed through the odd border area separating Magical London from Muggle London, Harry flagged a cab with practiced ease. He was surprised at how much of his life as a Muggle adult came back to him after his brief, but intensive, re-immersion in the wizarding world. He would have enjoyed the walk in the rain, but he wanted to get out of the weather for the sake of his friend, who had neither hat nor umbrella. Harry had cautioned Ron that he needed to dress as a Muggle, but for Ron this meant jeans and a Holyhead Harpies windbreaker. "We're going into the Inns of Court, Ron," Harry explained, not noticing that he had assumed the same tone of voice that Hermione had often used in the past when they were studying together. "So?" Ron asked querulously. "That's in the oldest part of the business district of London and dressing like a college student will make you stick out like a sore thumb," he explained. Ron had compromised and redressed himself in a blue button-down shirt, a nice striped tie that screamed of Hermione's taste for understated elegance, nice slacks and penny loafers, but refused to wear a sport coat or overcoat of any sort. "I had enough of that in seven years at school, Harry," he whinged. Ron looked out the window, counting the intersections as they went by. Harry noticed this, but slumped down in the back seat of the taxicab, thinking about past, present and future. As it had turned out, Professor

McGonagall hadn't been able to work out scheduling as they'd hoped, so Harry had had to Apparate to London alone. He'd promised Ginny he'd be back as soon as they'd finished meeting with Stapleton, and to be honest, he'd given the possibility of canceling the meeting serious consideration. He'd been reluctant to be separated from her ever since they'd confessed their feelings to one another the week before, even going so far as to sneak down to her rooms in Gryffindor Tower each night. She'd agreed to this only under the provision that he would leave before six o'clock in the morning to avoid running into any of the students. As a result, he'd been exhausted as he'd left her room that very morning and had collided into a suit of armour by the trophy room. The resulting crash had brought both Filch and Professor Snape running into the corridor. Fortunately for Harry, Peeves had chosen that moment to toss several of the trophy cups at Filch's head, drawing their attention from the alcove in which he'd been plastered. He was getting too old for this sort of thing. The cab dropped them by Lincoln's Inn, at an address affectionately known as the "Old Buildings." They were looking for number 23, which wasn't too hard to find, given the fact that it was wedged between buildings 22 and 24. Harry supposed that there was a story in why C.B. Stapleton ended up here in this building, but he didn't have the energy that afternoon to run that thread to its logical conclusion; between the ups and downs of his covert relationship with Ginny Weasley, marking papers and preparing lectures, supervising practices in truly miserable weather and trying to get back into some reasonable synch with Ron, he'd had a very full week. The brass plaque outside the doorway listed the barristers' names in alphabetical order, C.B. Stapleton appearing as the next to last name on the list. Harry nodded to Ron, who pushed the door open. A short, balding man looked up at them from behind a desk. "Yes, sirs?" he inquired. "Here for an appointment with Mr Stapleton," Harry said quietly. The short man nodded as if he approved of the appointment. "His chambers are down the hall, last doorway on the left." "Thanks," Ron said, knocking on the desk with the back of his knuckles as he walked by.

The doors to each of the hallway listed various names, some with the initials "Q.C." after their names, others with more cryptic initials. A wooden door with a frosted glass window filled the last doorway on the left. Elegant, gilt letters spelled out the name "C.B. Stapleton" on it, with a line underneath the name. Looking carefully at the line, Ron pointed out that it was a silhouette of two wands. Harry assumed that it would look like an abstract pattern to most Muggles, but Wizards would recognize it as readily as the wand-andbone logo of St. Mungo's or other common symbols. Harry paused outside the door. "It's not going to get any easier, mate," Ron said, clapping him on the back once before pushing the door open. A woman sitting at a blonde oak desk glared at them both, raising one eyebrow. Upon his initial appraisal, Harry determined that she was young, somewhere in her twenties, riding that fine line between being voluptuous and being a bit overweight. Her wavy chestnut hair framed her face nicely, accenting her two most striking features: her eyes and her lips. It didn't take much imagination to see those lips doing interesting things. Down boy, you're spoken for. A nameplate on her desk indicated that her name was R. Bazelem. Rachel probably, or maybe Rebecca, he thought to himself. "I'm here to see Mr. Stapleton," Harry said in what he hoped was a professional tone. She raised her eyebrow even higher, twirling on her chair. Picking up the telephone, she punched an intercom button, speaking softly into the receiver. "Mr. Stapleton, there are two men here to see you. There's a block in the book at half-past four, but no names... Uh-huh... Thank you, Mr. Stapleton." She placed the receiver back in its cradle. "Mr. Stapleton is finishing another matter right now. Please be seated," she said, nodding her head at two overstuffed leather chairs that sat next to a bamboo-framed aquarium. Ron sprawled in the chair immediately. Harry stood, watching the tank for a moment. He could see the receptionist clearly in the reflection of the glass pane. She was watching them with a lupine expression. Harry took off his topcoat, hanging it carefully on a coat tree next to the aquarium. Making sure to face Ron, he whispered softly, "We're being watched, mate." Ron spread his hands as if to say, "So?", but Harry noted that his hand went down

to the seam of his trousers where he could access his wand from its hidden pocket. The receptionist rose from behind her desk, smoothing her skirt before stepping into the waiting area. "Would either of you care for some coffee or tea?" she asked in a husky voice. "I'm fine, thanks," Harry replied. Ron looked up, smiling. "Earl Grey if you have it, no sugar, no cream." "Yes, sir," she replied, turning smartly on her heel. She reappeared moments later, carrying a steaming cup and saucer. She handed the tea to Ron and then studied them closely, first Harry and then Ron. "I've seen you before," she said in a low voice. "You've been in the papers." She paused a moment. "Wait, I know who you are; Mum's going to go mad when I tell her you were here," she said, her voice rising in pitch. Harry squirmed, trying to figure out whether or not he could risk Obliviating her on the spot. "You... you're RON WEASLEY!" she shrieked, pulling at her hair. Harry let out his breath. Better that Ron should have a groupie, he thought. "Rachel," a deep voice called. "Please bring our client into my chambers." C.B. Stapleton had a lovely, soothing voice that seemed totally out of place coming from a nondescript, middle-aged man. He was thick around the middle with greying temples and a receding hairline. If Harry had walked past him on the sidewalk, he would have never have given him a second glance. Stapleton shook Harry's hand, then Ron's, before thrusting a business card into Ron's empty left hand. "Mr. Weasley, unless my guess is wrong, you may find yourself in a spot of trouble soon. The bloke on this card is honest, competent and discreet." Turning to the receptionist, he said, "Rachel, you may go home now, I shan't be needing you any further today." Rachel nodded, opening a closet behind her desk. "Thank you, Mr. Stapleton. You'll be sure to open a new entry in the client accounting system?" she asked.

"This is a direct bill client, Rachel," Stapleton murmured. "Thank goodness for that," she replied as she put her arm into the sleeve of a blood red raincoat. She moved smoothly towards Ron, shaking his hand. "Such a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Weasley," she said breathlessly. "If I bring my clipping book, will you autograph it?" "We'll see," Ron answered, obviously flustered by her attention. "Mr. Weasley, would you be so kind as to walk Miss Bazelem to the Chancery Lane Underground Station?" Stapleton asked. "It's not far from here." "Er, all right" Ron said chivalrously. Stapleton darted into the closet, extracting a long, large, black umbrella. "Take a brolly, Mr. Weasley, the rain has started again with a vengeance." "Thank you, sir," a nervous Ron replied. He looked plaintively at Harry. "Go on home, Ron, I'll call you on the Floo when we finish. All right, mate?" Harry asked. Ron nodded. Stapleton waited patiently, an amused smile on his face, while Rachel and Ron made their way out of the office. Ron looked worried. Rachel wore the blissful smile most often associated with a person dissolving large chunks of dark chocolate under her tongue. "Well, I made one person very happy today," Stapleton said, pulling a thin wand from his waistcoat. Pointing the wand at the door and phone, Harry felt his ears pop. Wonder what he did to the phone? Stapleton moved into his inner office, pointing to a chair. "Sit," he commanded. Harry raised an eyebrow, but sank into the large leather armchair. Running his fingers along the grain of the leather, he realized that it was made of dragon hide, although he couldn't specify the species. The office was much longer than it was wide. Near the outer door behind him was a small desk cluttered with stacks of papers, a computer, and a telephone. Beyond the desk was a small sitting area: a low table surrounded

by four leather armchairs. The long walls were pretty much floor to ceiling bookcases; many of the books appeared to be series with consecutive numbers printed on their spines. Two long tables with plain wooden chairs filled the next part of the office. One table was stacked high with binders and folders, rolled up parchments and loose papers. The other table, in stark contrast, had nothing on it all. The last light of the day reflected off of the polished tabletop, sending bits of light throughout the office. Behind this table was a small fireplace, connected to the Floo network no doubt, and a coal scuttle. Beyond the long tables, next to the bay window overlooking the courtyard, were a lamp, a comfortable-looking reading chair, and a standing desk equipped with dual inkwells, no doubt to accommodate both black and red ink. Stapleton reappeared. Harry wasn't quite sure where he'd been, but he was now standing next to Harry's chair holding a tray laden with a teapot, mugs, milk and sugar, a plate of biscuits, two coloured vials and the smallest Pensieve that Harry'd ever seen. The tray was carefully set down on the table. With a sigh that revealed his relative age, Stapleton sank into the chair opposite Harry. "Thank goodness for Friday, eh what?" he asked jovially. "What are we discussing today, Mr. Potter?" "Ron didn't tell you?" Harry asked, taken aback. "No," Stapleton replied with a small smile. "I'm not in the habit of discussing the merits of pending cases with third parties. Mr. Weasley asked if I was available to represent you. I made inquiries into whether I had any conflicts, and then reported back to Mr. Weasley that I was available." Harry reached over to pick up a biscuit, taking the smallest of nibbles from the corner. "I thought you knew already," he began, fading away into silence. "Mr. Potter, I've sat in this chair listening to clients sitting in that chair for almost as long as you've been alive," he said, taking a biscuit for himself. "I've heard tales of everything from adultery to treason; there is nothing you could say that would shock or surprise me. As no charges have been preferred regarding your recent spat with Mr. Weasley, I'm assuming that your need of my services arises out of the second war," Stapleton finished, looking over his reading glasses.

He looks like Dumbledore when he does that, Harry concluded. He put the biscuit into his lap and ran his fingers through his hair. "I killed a number of people during the war," he said quietly. Stapleton leaned back in his chair, pressing the tips of his fingers together in front of his face. The two men were silent for a long time. "Have you any coins in your pocket, Mr. Potter?" Stapleton asked at last. "Muggle or Magical?" "Either will do; put one down on the tray, I'll consider it my retainer. If, by the end of our discussion, you conclude that you want anotherbarrister, or I conclude that I can't do anything to assist you, I will still be bound to keep your confidences," the barrister explained. Harry smirked. "Like a house-elf?" "I get to wear clothes, thankfully," Stapleton replied. Harry dug into his pocket for a coin. From the sound of it as it clattered on the tray between the teapot and the closest mug, it was a Sickle. Harry looked up as a quill at the standing table jumped to attention and began scribbling an entry into a journal. "Start at the beginning," Stapleton said brusquely, "leave nothing out." Harry slouched in the chair until he found a comfortable position with one foot propped against the low table, and began talking about Voldemort, Wormtail, Nagini, Voldemort's reincarnation, his link to the Dark Lord, his encounters with the Death Eaters through his time at Hogwarts, his relationship with Dumbledore, the special training during his sixth and seventh years, and the capture of Wormtail. Harry stopped briefly to pour a cup of tea, finishing the ginger biscuit he'd started in one bite. Taking a deep breath, he outlined the evening he Apparated to the grounds of Malfoy Manor, Narcissa's death, Nagini's death, and his final struggle with Lucius Malfoy. By the time he finished talking, the sun had gone down and a chill had settled in on the office. Harry wasn't sure that the two were related, but he felt a bitter cold in his bones. He wanted Ginny - no, he needed Ginny, desperately - but the rational part of his mind knew that he had to finish this business if he wanted to live anything approaching a normal life.

Harry looked up to find Stapleton had moved while he had gone through everything; the barrister was now at the far end of the office, writing furiously into his journal. He returned, bringing his journal with him. "Are you willing to have me record these memories in a Pensieve in case of future need in your defense, Mr. Potter?" Stapleton asked. "Yes, sir," Harry said wearily; the telling never got any easier. "Let me enhance your memory a bit, and we'll do just that," he said, refilling Harry's mug half-way. He carefully decanted a drop from the green vial and two drops from the yellow vial into the mug. Next he topped off the mug with tea and handed it to Harry. "Bottoms up, Mr. Potter. After you've drained the cup, I'd like you to clear your mind of all but the relevant events." Harry looked at the mug briefly and then chugged the laced tea down quickly, not bothering to ask what was in the vials. He either trusted Stapleton or he didn't, and for now, Harry decided that he was trustworthy; he couldn't articulate why but he knew that, as certainly as he loved Ginny, Stapleton would stand by him to the end. He sat up straight in his chair, closing his eyes, trying to bring only those memories to mind from the time he interrogated Wormtail until he was standing over the still, dead body of Lucius Malfoy. Using all of his training in Occlumency, he worked hard to partition off the events that occurred thereafter: Disapparating off of the grounds of Malfoy Manor (which he could barely remember doing), his repeated showers, his agony and self-loathing in the Astronomy Tower, Ginny finding him there, their bittersweet joining. "Do you have those events, and those events only, in your memory now, Mr. Potter?" Stapleton whispered brusquely. Harry nodded. "Fiat Memoriam," Stapleton intoned. Harry felt a brief scratch on his temple as Stapleton's wand passed across it. The sensation that followed was hard to describe, a lessening of pressure, perhaps, as the memory was extracted. When he opened his eyes he saw that a long, gooey strand hung from the tip of Stapleton's wand. The strand hit the fluid in the Pensieve with a sound like water being dropped onto a hot iron. The fluid roiled and changed colours for a moment until it became tranquil and grey again. Harry

slouched down into his chair, rubbing his temples as if to wipe away the memories. Stapleton walked to the fireplace, tossing Bludger-sized lumps of coal on top of the andirons, igniting it with a poke of his wand. "Warm yourself by the fire, Mr. Potter, this won't take long," Stapleton said, moving to the reading chair at the end of the office, journal tucked under his arm as he walked with the Pensieve. Harry pushed his way out of the chair to stand by the fire. The fire did help; his chill subsided even if his longing for Ginny remained unquenched. He looked into the flames and began to let his mind wander over things that had happened, what might have happened, what might yet happen. A sound penetrated into his reverie, but it made no sense. "I'm sorry, were you speaking to me?" Harry asked, turning around to find Stapleton next to him. "I said, come join me again, Mr. Potter, and I will summarize my thoughts on your case," Stapleton said over his shoulder as he walked briskly to the circle of stuffed leather chairs. Harry followed meekly, blinking his eyes that were now quite dry from staring at the fire. "Your friend was right to call me; this is a fascinating case. In fact, the summary of the facts read like a law school final exam question - 'how many conflicting principles of law arise from this puddle of facts? Discuss all principles and decide,'" he said, pulling a face. "Had you ever practiced Avada Kedavra?" "No, we knew that it wouldn't work on Voldemort. I didn't want to use Unforgivables; there were other ways to take out the opposition," Harry replied distantly. "Did you know that you could cast it wandlessly?" "No, in fact, Dumbledore had said many times that he didn't think any of the Unforgivables could be cast without a wand; they all took too much magical energy. Apparently, he was incorrect; that happened from time to time," Harry replied. "You created a problem for your friend when you wrote that letter, Mr. Potter. He is sworn to uphold the law and has a duty to turn that letter over

to the Prosecutors of the Ministry of Magic as evidence of a crime. If he fails to do so, he commits the crime of Misprision, if he destroys the letter, he is obstructing justice; either charge would bring his career to a screeching halt. That is something that you should consider even if he does not." Stapleton paused for a sip of tea. Harry felt sick to his stomach - the thought that he had placed Ron's career in jeopardy made his stomach tilt. "You're right. I didn't think about any of that at all when I wrote that letter. If anything happens to Ron I don't think I'll forgive myself." "Your friend will be ably represented by one of my colleagues - at worst, he will be suspended with pay for a week or two-" Harry groaned and cast a baleful glare at Stapleton. "-Now, don't look at me like that, it's an excellent opportunity to get caught up on his domestic chore list and renew his acquaintance with his family." Stapleton pinned Harry with a steely gaze. "The next time you feel constrained to memorialise evidence of your crimes, come tell me, or let me arrange for a sacramental confession of your sins before a priest. Confession may be good for the soul, but when the confession is made to an Auror, it tends to be hazardous to your health, insofar as it causes your body to be thrown into Azkaban," he said with a wry grin. Evidently that was supposed to be a joke. Harry grimaced and nodded. "When you entered Malfoy Manor, what were you thinking that you would do, Mr. Potter?" Stapleton asked. "I was there to kill Nagini. I'd hoped to get in, kill the snake, and get out again," Harry replied, smiling grimly. "Like that was going to happen. . ." "What was Nagini?" "A massively huge, evil snake - poisonous, could crush people like a python. Voldemort used her as a familiar - what Nagini saw, Voldemort saw. Because of my link, sometimes I saw it, too," Harry said vehemently, angry more at himself than anyone else. He then realized that now wasn't the time for anger; it was the time for solutions. Taking a deep breath, he looked straight into Stapleton's eyes. "So, what do you think?"

"I think you are an honourable man who did the best he could during the worst of times. I also think that when Mr. Weasley turns the letter over to the prosecutors, you will most likely be indicted for the murder of Narcissa Malfoy," Stapleton said blandly. Harry's stomach lurched. "But I didn't kill Narcissa, I killed Lucius!" he said, clearly upset. "Ah, yes, that is true, but the law rarely takes straight paths," Stapleton said with a sober nod. "Your contribution to the demise of the Malfoys per se is not criminal. With Lucius it was a straight case of self-defense. With Narcissa, Lucius' actions incited Nagini to kill her - at best you were a contributing factor, but hardly an accessory. Your trouble is the fact that these deaths occurred during the commission of an inherently dangerous felony invoking the Felony Murder rule," Stapleton said sagely. Harry's temper kicked up another degree. "Of course," Harry said sarcastically as he scowled at Stapleton. "The Felony Murder rule - I was just talking with Ron about that on the way over." He surged out of his chair, shoving his glasses up onto his forehead before giving his eyes a hard rub. Slapping the frames back down onto his nose he felt the beginnings of panicked tears pressing against his eyelids. Calm down, Harry, he thought to himself. This man holds the key to your future; now's not the time to piss him off. He opened his eyes, surprised to see Stapleton calmly smiling at him. He felt about three inches tall. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stapleton," he said, sinking back down into his chair, weary to his bones. "I know you're trying to explain what's happening and it doesn't help having me charge around here like a bull in a china shop. But I'm not following you at all. Can you please tell me what you're talking about?" "Apology accepted, young man," Stapleton said with a nod. "It's a lot to take in. Let's see if this helps. An American by the name of Will Rogers once said that all of us were ignorant, just on different topics. I'm sure that you could wax eloquent on dark matter and pulsars, leaving me totally in the dark. Let me unpack this one for you, Dr. Potter," Stapleton said with a twinkle in his tired eyes. "England is a common law country. Magical law follows the Muggle law more often than not. The better wizard lawyers are all graduates of Muggle law schools. After that, we serve an apprenticeship

reading the wizarding law. It's rather like learning a foreign language: once you have one under your belt, the second one comes much easier. But I digress. All crimes have elements that define the crime," Stapleton said, ticking the elements off with his fingers. "Murder is killing another human by act of will with malice, that is, intent to harm." Harry knew he must have looked completely flummoxed because Stapleton closed his eyes and shook his head with what had to be a bit of impatience. "Let's run examples," Stapleton said, his voice weary, but persistent. "If you are hiding in the trash bin and I carry the trash bin out to a blazing bonfire in my backyard and I chuck the contents of the bin into the blaze, and if you perish in the flames, I have certainly killed you, and it was certainly an act of will -- I did intend for the contents of the bin to burn -- but there was no malice, because I did not intend to harm you. I merely wanted to burn my trash, so while it may be homicide of one sort or another, it's not murder." Stapleton paused, gazing expectantly at Harry. "Okay, I follow that - all killings are homicides, but not all homicides are murder," Harry observed. "Exactly." Stapleton said, "Homicides that occur during the commission of certain dangerous felonies are deemed to be murders. This is the essence of the Felony Murder rule. The dangerous felony here is burglary," Stapleton paused. "Burglary?" Harry yelped. "But I didn't steal anything!" "You don't have to. The elements of burglary are breaking and entering the dwelling of another, at night, with the intent to commit larceny or any other felony." "What's the felony?" Harry asked. "Killing valuable chattel - the snake," Stapleton explained. "Malicious destruction of animals worth more than 20 Galleons is a crime in this country - a crime defined as a felony. That makes your crime a burglary, which in turn invokes the Felony Murder rule. Rather like a multiple-car collision on the motorway. Are you following me, Mr. Potter?" "Yeah," Harry said with dismay, "it's screwy as a story in The Quibbler, but I am following the logic."

"The odd thing about this is that the burglary proper is barred from prosecution because it's simply been too long since it's happened. The Statute of Limitations has expired - most crimes must be prosecuted within seven years of commission. Murder, however, is not subject to any Statute of Limitations." Stapleton smiled cryptically. "Corking," Harry said, "simply corking." "I think I may have a possible defense. May I consult an old friend of mine?" Stapleton asked. "I need to ask a question or two about Nagini. I'll hire him as a consultant, so whatever he and I discuss will be as privileged as what we discuss." "Uh, sure," Harry said, not following where this conversation was headed. Stapleton rose and walked to the fireplace. Pulling open a box on the mantle, he threw a pinch of Floo powder into the fire, turning it green for the moment. Sticking his head into the flames, he shouted, "Newt! Unhand that hussy for a moment and answer a question or two for me!" Stapleton pulled his head out of the fire, remaining in a kneeling position. Within a short while, a wizened old head appeared in the flames. "Basil, you old dog!" the elderly man exclaimed. "There hasn't been a woman in my house for, what, seven years now, unless you count my daughters and granddaughters. Is this business or pleasure?" "Business, old chap, although I'd love to take you to dinner with my missus Sunday afternoon," Stapleton said with a smile. Digging into his pocket he tossed a Galleon into the fire. Harry saw a quick flash of hands as the head in the fire moved to catch the Galleon as it fell into his house. "Consider yourself retained, old friend. Monstrous large snake, constricts like a python, poisonous like a viper, it's not a Basilisk, as it doesn't kill with its eyes, what is it? Oh, I forgot, it's a dark wizard's familiar," Stapleton added. "You wasted your money, Basil, that's an easy one. It's a Hybach, that's Hy-b-a-c-h," Newt replied with a satisfied smile. "Class II restricted creature they have to be bred, like Basilisks, because they don't ever occur naturally. They are illegal to breed or possess. The Wizengamot has had a standing order to destroy them since I don't know when. Over two hundred years, I'd hazard. Voldemort kept one, lovely specimen she was too, if the reports were at all accurate. Is that helpful to you, Basil?" Newt asked.

"Most helpful, Newt," Stapleton replied. "Make the reservation, I'm buying dinner," "I'll look forward to it; we'll eat someplace really nice then. Will you be back from church by two o'clock?" "Certainly." "It's a date. Now, if you will pardon me, I have a Galleon that's just burning a hole in my pocket - I think I'm going to walk into Stagsden and see if Goldie has any decent Grolsch," Newt said, licking his lips in an exaggerated gesture. The fire turned once again from green to yellow and blue, a normal non-magical fire fuelled by coal. "Who was that?" Harry asked. "Old friend, Newt Scamander," Stapleton replied blandly, "perhaps you've heard of him?" "Heard of him?" Harry said, amazed. "I still have his book from school!" "Perhaps he'll autograph it after he finishes testifying before the Coroner's Inquest," Stapleton said, lifting one eyebrow. Harry shook his head. "Coroner's Inquest?" Harry asked. "What are you going on about?" "Before there is a trial, there is an inquiry before a Grand Jury - cases of unexplained homicide are referred to a specialized body know as the Coroner's Inquest - we have the opportunity to present certain evidence," Stapleton said, the cryptic smile once again appearing on his face. "I'm fairly well convinced that with your testimony, live or by Pensieve, plus Newt's testimony, I can quash the burglary. If Malfoy couldn't lawfully own or possess the snake, it would be no crime to kill it. Without that element, we have simple housebreaking, a misdemeanour barred by the Statute of Limitations, no application of the Felony Murder Rule, accidental homicide of Narcissa Malfoy and justifiable homicide with Lucius Malfoy under a plain application of self defence." He tapped his quill against his journal. "I would be most surprised if the Coroner's Inquest did anything other than refusing to return a true bill. In plain terms, unless we screw up the Inquest badly, you'll walk out a free man, Mr. Potter - as well you should."

Harry felt like he'd been hit with a pole-ax. "That's it?" he asked, astonishment painted on his face. "Well, there is the matter of paying my fees and expenses," Stapleton replied with a sly grin. "Send me a retainer and fee agreement - I'll owl it back to you - uh, you do take owl post, don't you?" Harry asked, looking at the office with mixed Muggle and Magical furnishings. Stapleton smiled. "Owl post goes to a mail drop at my home. E-mails go to my computer account; telephone calls are answered by Rachel when she's here and by my confidential voice-mail when she's not." Stapleton rose again from his chair, fishing a metal disk and a small marble from his waistcoat pocket. "Just a last detail, Mr. Potter," he said, dropping the marble into the Pensieve. Pushing his eyebrows up in an unpleasant expression, he drew a complex pattern on the disk with his wand, and then placed the disk on top of the Pensieve as well. "Your hand, please," he said with a beckoning motion. Harry placed his hand, palm up, into Stapleton's. He moved quickly, pricking Harry's thumb with a tiny lancet. Harry grunted, but said nothing. Stapleton squeezed a drop of Harry's blood onto the disk covering the Pensieve. "Done," he said with a murmur of satisfaction. "What was that about?" Harry asked. "Blood seal," Stapleton replied. "No one can open this Pensieve but you. If they try and break the seal, a small, incendiary charge within that marble will ignite, destroying the Pensieve and, I might add, make a terrible mess of my office. I don't take chances, and I hate surprises, Mr. Potter." Stapleton moved slowly to his desk and pulled a plaster from a drawer, expertly applying it to Harry's thumb. Harry stood, extending his hand so that he could shake his barrister's. "You've no idea how helpful you've been today, Mr. Stapleton." Stapleton shook his head and grinned. "Oh, I have some idea. I'm charging you my standard Auror rates, Mr. Potter, but if you weren't able to pay, I'd do it for free. You needn't share that last bit with anyone else; it wouldn't be good if the word got out that C.B. Stapleton is getting sentimental in his old

age, people would be asking for discounts right and left - and we can't have that, can we?" They chuckled together. Stapleton extinguished the fire and pulled the chain on the flue's damper. With a flick of his wand, he unsealed the office, Summoned Harry's coat off the tree, extinguished the lights and then resealed the office once they were standing out in the hallway together. As they walked to the front of the building, Harry noticed for the first time that the man walked with a faint limp. They shook hands once again, parting to go their separate ways; C. Basil Stapleton to the Chancery Lane Underground, Harry to the Public Apparition point in the Business District. The weather was dark, cold and windy when they got outside, but Harry felt a flicker of warmth within. His step was light as he walked away from Lincoln's Inn. He was going to close out a dark and cold chapter of his life, and open another -- with Ginny. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 19: Holidays at Hogwarts The sharp crack of Harry's laughter ringing through the house made Ron turn his head. They'd been back from St. Peter's in Ealing for less than twenty minutes and there he was, standing at the hearth with the twins and Bill, laughing about something hard enough to make Hermione's eyes fill with happy tears. Ron smiled as he remembered standing next to the baptismal font, his arm held firmly around his wife's waist, as the priest laid his hands on their daughter's head. Harry had been holding Charlotte with Ginny standing by his side, one hand tucked into the crook of his arm and the other resting lightly upon the sleeping baby's stomach. The delicate ivory fabric of the heirloom baptismal gown was in stark contrast to the charcoal grey of Harry's suit coat. Ron remembered that he'd had to swallow a lump in his throat anyone looking that the three of them could have easily assumed they were the parents of the infant nestled in his best friend's arms. When it all came down to it, Ron was amazed at all of the changes that had taken place in the last several months joys mixed with the pain of change. The arrival of his beautiful daughter had filled him with such happiness that he found himself smiling whenever he thought of her sweet little face. Yet

he could see the sadness still lingering around Hermione's eyes, a stark reminder of the events that had occurred that day. Harry's return had been fraught with tears and gladness as well (not to mention several bruises, of course), and now turned towards uncertainty. Especially when one considered the results of Harry's meeting with Stapleton. Harry had come to their home for a quick dinner before he'd returned to Hogwarts and had filled Ron in on the details. Regardless of Harry's reassurances, Ron had felt a sense of doom from the moment he'd left Stapleton's office with Miss Bazelem. His foreboding had nothing to do with the frank, slightly-feline glances she'd cast at him from under her lashes as they'd walked to the Tube. Nor did it have anything to do with the information his own solicitor, Mr. Miller, had given him about what he would have to do with the letter come Monday. There were entirely too many "ifs" involved in this entire scheme, and Ron's stomach continued to twist whenever he contemplated the worst-case scenarios. Not for him, mind: he wasn't too concerned with how all this would affect him. His main concern came from how this would affect his sister. One had only to look into Ginny's eyes to see how happy she was. He glanced over to where Ginny stood, chattering happily with her mother and Emma Granger. When she and Harry had arrived at the church, he'd watched as his mother and father had embraced first Ginny, then Harry, warmly in welcome. He knew in his heart that when they learned what had caused Harry to leave them nine years ago, they would support him one hundred percent, regardless of whether he ended up in Azkaban or not. Ron just knew that Harry and Ginny deserved to be together they'd been apart for far too long. "Hey, mate." Ron blinked and turned towards the direction of the voice. Harry stood behind him, suit coat forgotten, holding two pieces of Emma Granger's famous chocolate cake. "Hey, yourself, Godfather!" "Thanks for that, Ron," Harry smiled, handing him a plate before his eyes turned serious. "You don't know what it's meant to me for you to name me as Charlotte's godfather. I will always be there for her," he promised.

A chill ran down Ron's spine. Don't think about it. Have some cake and forget about it. "I know you will," he said with a nod, before picking up a forkful of his cake. "You're thinking about it again, aren't you, mate?" Ron put his fork down with a clatter. "Damn and blast, Harry. Since when did you become so bloody perceptive?" "Well, it's not too hard to imagine where your mind is today, despite your daughter's christening," Harry said softly, and the two men turned towards the hallway. "You're worried about tomorrow, right?" "No," Ron said matter-of-factly, "I'm not." "Look," Harry said, setting his plate down on the stairs. "I feel awful about this" "Harry, really, don't worry about me," Ron interrupted. If there was anything Harry was good at, it was feeling guilty. At least Ron had thought up some clever responses for his friend. "I know that it won't look good on my record" "Especially since you were just suspended this summer" "Will you stop it already?" Ron stabbed a hunk of cake with his fork and wedged it into Harry's mouth. "Now the way I've figured it, a suspension will give me plenty of time to work on my list of chores around the house." He stifled a chuckle at the furious glare Harry cast at him over the top of his glasses. He set his own plate down on the steps as well and placed both hands on Harry's shoulders, staring him in the eye. "More importantly, it will give me time to spend with my family and, baby minders being plentiful, some quality time with my wife." Go for the finish, Weasley. "We need this, Harry." Harry swallowed the cake and arched a brow at him. "Sneaky bastard." Ron laughed, scooping up his plate and taking a bite of cake. "But I'm right, and you know it." Harry picked up his own plate. "You're a good friend, Weasley."

"So are you, Potter." They stood in companionable silence in the foyer, munching on cake before Harry took a hard swallow and placed his plate back down on the steps. "There is something I'd like to talk with you about, Ron." Ron frowned. "What's wrong?" "Nothing's wrong. Well with the exception of what we've just agreed not to talk about any further," Harry said with a wry smile. "In fact, I'd have to say that everything's fairly right. Ginny and I well we finally told each other how we feel." Ron felt as though a thousand stars had burst in his stomach. "Oh, Harry, that's brilliant!" He thumped his friend hard on the back. "No wonder you both were glowing earlier today! I knew it couldn't just be from the christening!" "Thanks, Ron." Harry blushed fairly respectably, for a non-Weasley. "I honestly feel like I could take on the world right now, as long as she's by my side." "'Course you can, mate! She's loved you forever, regardless of her dating that Ollivander bloke." Ron blinked. "What are we doing standing in the hallway eating cake when we should be proposing toasts with some Firewhisky?" "In a minute, Ron," Harry said, grabbing his arm before he could usher them back towards the kitchen. "I wanted to let you know that I'm going to ask your parents for her hand, if I can get them alone for a few." If he thought he'd felt wonderful before, it was nothing compared to now. "Merlin, Harry" He grabbed Harry in a bear hug and felt it returned with equal enthusiasm. "Now, don't say anything," Harry said, standing back and looking at him with shining eyes. "Not even to Hermione, although I know it will kill you." "I promise," Ron said, eagerly. "You know what that will make us?" Harry nodded. "Family. Something I've wanted all my life, Ron."

Ron blinked away tears. "All right, before the two of us start blubbering here in the hallway, let's go have a toast. And I'll see what I can do to snare my folks." ~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry looked over the top of his glass of whisky as Ron and the twins bickered over the last piece of cake. If someone had told him a year ago that he would be standing where he was at the moment, he would have thought them mad. It was difficult for him not to become overwhelmed whenever he thought of the events of the past several months. However, the day's events came very close to tipping him over into the sentimental. Walking up to the baptismal font with Ginny on his arm had given him a glimpse of a possible future with her that still had him blinking back tears. He'd impetuously toyed with the idea of proposing the night they'd shared their feelings for one another. As it happened, the timing had been off an impromptu party in the Gryffindor common room had resulted in Harry's stealthy return to the Astronomy Tower. After that, their schedules hadn't permitted even one late-night rendezvous. It wasn't until they'd arrived in London the night before that they'd had any private time together at all. As they'd approached the front of the church that morning, Harry couldn't help but think of the single wedding he'd attended during his time at Oxford. One of his mates had got married during Harry's last year of doctoral study. The smell of the candles and the flowers, the sun sparkling through the stained glass windows, the sound of the pipe organ had made him wonder what it would have been like to have stood in his friend's place. At the time, Ginny's face had shimmered into his consciousness the minute he'd thought about it, and it had felt like a physical blow. But as Harry had stood at the font today, with Charlotte fast asleep in his arms and Ginny standing next to him, the swell of her breast pressing against his bicep, he'd felt like weeping. With crystalline certainty he'd known that he'd been destined to be there, with her, at that moment. To know that she was the one he was meant to be with, to raise a family with, and to lie beside until his last breath. There was only one dark spot on the otherwise-sunny horizon he'd painted for himself: the pending hearing. Harry was certain that there would be one his meeting with Stapleton had made it clear that there would be serious

consequences to his disclosure to Ron. When he'd explained what had happened to Ginny, her eyes had filled with tears, however she'd made one thing perfectly clear to him: regardless of what happened, she would never leave his side. He smiled; she'd even gone so far as to threaten him with bodily harm if he tried to keep her in the dark about things. He wouldn't put it past her. Of course, the casual observer wouldn't think that the lovely woman sitting at the dining room table could utter a threat like that. She'd looked lovely in her caramel-coloured suit, her hair bound in a low-slung chignon which teased the nape of her neck. As they had dressed that morning, Harry had told her every time she'd worn her hair up he'd itched to be the one to take it down. She'd promised him he'd get the opportunity that evening. He paused, taking his pocket watch from his waistcoat, and peered at the time almost eight o'clock. They'd promised McGonagall they'd be back at the castle by ten, which meant he had about ninety minutes to speak with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley. He looked around the room and found Arthur, standing next to Bill and Fleur in the screened sunroom, but did not see any sign of Molly. He set down his glass and walked over to Ron. "Harry, tell the boy he's had enough cake," Fred said, his fork inching towards the remaining bit of cake. "Hermione doesn't want him developing a paunch, now!" "Shut it, Gred," Ron said, spearing the cake with his fork and promptly licking it. "Satisfied?" Each of the twins shuddered. "It's yours, git," George said, tugging on his twin's arm. "We were only trying to save you from yourself!" They sauntered into the living room without a backward glance. "Nice trick," Harry said with a grin as he watched Ron lick a bit of frosting off his fork. "You'd think they'd know better than to loiter near a cake with me around by now," Ron said before taking a bite of his prize. His eyes rolled back into his head. "You know, they're right. It's easy to let things slip when you've got cake like this in the house."

Harry nodded. "Listen, do you have any idea where your mother is? I want to talk with both of your parents before we have to leave." "Right," Ron said, putting the plate down. "I think she's upstairs with Hermione, Emma and the baby. Why don't you go out to the porch and snare Dad, and I'll go get Mum for you." "That'd be wonderful, thanks," Harry said, relieved. "Now remember" "I know, I know," Ron chuckled, waving him off. "Be discreet." Picking up his plate, he headed out towards the stairs. The butterflies in Harry's stomach increased their frenzied flapping as he turned and headed towards the sunroom. Mr. Weasley was engaged in an animated conversation with Bill and Fleur. Harry had had the opportunity to become re-acquainted with Fleur at the school, and was glad for her presence now. Although Bill had been a complete gentleman all day, Harry still hadn't had much of a chance to talk with him about the past nine years. "Congratulations, Harry," Fleur said warmly, leaning close to give him a kiss on the cheek. "Thank you very much," he said, his cheeks warming. "It's still a bit overwhelming, but I'm looking forward to the challenge." Bill chuckled. "I can't wait to hear about your first time baby-minding. If Charlotte is anything like her father, you'll be in for a handful!" "Now Bill, don't scare the boy," Arthur Weasley said with a laugh. "I still remember when we left you in charge of the brood for the first time. Something about finding frog spawn in all your shoes?" Mr. Weasley cast Harry a conspiratorial glance. "It wasn't pretty." Harry chuckled. "Frog spawn, huh? Couldn't your brothers come up with anything better than that?" "No, and thank goodness they didn't," Bill replied. "The frog spawn was messy enough." Fleur giggled. "I bet it was."

The twins approached Bill and Fleur, curious as to what they were chuckling about, giving Harry the opportunity to speak privately with the Weasley patriarch. "Mr. Weasley?" Harry asked softly. "Harry, please call me Arthur," he said with a welcoming smile. "It would make me very happy." Harry nodded. "All right, then, Arthur, might I have a word with you?" "Certainly," Arthur said, motioning towards a settee. "Let's have a seat where we can be comfortable." "Okay, okay we get the hint," Fred muttered as he ushered his twin through the door. "See you later, Harry!" Harry waved. He caught Bill's inquisitive eyes as he turned to make his way towards the exit. For a split second, Harry wondered if he should have invited Bill to join them, but he reckoned he'd have enough trouble staying calm without having Ginny's eldest brother involved in the discussion. Harry swallowed one more time before sitting next to Arthur. The two men spoke of recent Quidditch scores, the autumn weather which had been abysmal until that weekend, when the rain had stopped that morning and the christening for several moments until Arthur pinned Harry with a frank look. "Well, Harry, I'm certain that you haven't asked me here because you fancied my company or wanted to talk Quidditch scores," he said with a wink. "What is on your mind?" Here we go. "It's about your daughter," Harry began. "Ginny," he said simply. "You have another daughter?" Harry jested, which caused Arthur to chortle. "Yes, it's about Ginny." He smiled as he thought of her. "If you hadn't guessed, Ginny and I have rekindled our relationship."

Arthur smiled. "I'd hoped that there was more to the glances I saw the two of you exchanging than happiness over Charlotte's big day. Congratulations!" Harry felt his cheeks warm. "Thank you, sir. There are days I still can't believe it's happening, but" He paused as a shadow filled the doorway and he saw Molly Weasley step over the threshold. Ginny's crystalline laughter could be heard drifting through the open door and Harry let it wash over him like a caress. He rose from his seat and took her hand. "Hello, Mrs. Weasley. Please join us!" "Only if you stop calling me 'Mrs. Weasley', dear," Molly said, her brown eyes crinkling with warmth. "Harry's just told me he and our Ginny have reconciled," Arthur murmured as his wife took a seat next to him on the settee. Molly nodded. "Ginny just told me the same thing a few moments ago." She looked at Harry with shining eyes. "You have no idea how happy that makes me, dear. I know you had your reasons to leave, but I'm very glad that you're back." As he sat down across from Ginny's parents, the butterflies in Harry's stomach circled wildly one last time before settling somewhere around his chest. He took a deep breath and then cast a combination of charms on the area surrounding them, including a Silencing Sphere and an Aversion Charm. He then gave the charms a small tweak he found the sounds of the trees and the noises from inside the house to be comforting, and he could use a bit of comfort for the task he had ahead of him. "I'd like to explain that a bit, if I might." For the next half an hour, the Weasleys listened patiently as Harry recounted the night he'd travelled to Malfoy Manor. As he finished, he couldn't help but notice the soft sobs coming from Molly and wished for the entire world he hadn't had to tell them any of it. But if they were to accept his wishes to marry their daughter, they would have to know everything from the past and the repercussions the past had upon their future. "MollyArthur, I'm so sorry," he said miserably. No longer able to bear the expressions on their faces, he dropped his gaze to his hands. Arthur cleared his throat. "Harrydear lord, why didn't you"

"Arthur, please," Molly said, her voice filled with emotion. "You've known Harry for close to sixteen years. That young man never would ask for help, regardless of the fact that it would have been given to him freely." Harry felt the tips of her fingers touch his chin and tilt his head up. "It was who you were back then, dear. I suspect you've taken yourself through your decisions more times than you care to remember, so there's no point in doing so again." The touch of her hand on his face came close to his undoing. "You weren't born to me, but you've always been one of my own, Harry. Our door has always been open to you and nothing will ever change that." What have I ever done to deserve this? Harry thought to himself as he swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He reached out and touched the Weasleys' joined hands where they rested on Arthur's knee. "I don't know what to say except thank you. It means more to me than I'll ever be able to put into words" They were silent for a moment, listening to the rain which had started to fall onto the roof until Arthur cleared his throat again. "Well, now Harry, while I appreciate your telling us about your reasons for leaving all these years ago, I have a feeling there's something else." Harry nodded, the butterflies returning. "Well, there's a distinct possibility that there could be a trial. You see, I shared this information with Ron before even thinking about what the consequences of doing so might be." They fell silent as Harry explained his meeting with Stapleton and what he'd predicted would happen after Ron turned in the letter. "Now, I'm hopeful that things will go as Stapleton outlined, but there's a possibility that" "That you could see some time in jail," Arthur said soberly. "I wish there were some way I could take this off your shoulders, Harry." Harry shook his head. "It's what I should have done from the very beginning, Arthur. It's time I faced up to my responsibilities." "Well, just from what you've told us, I think you stand a very good chance of having this chapter of your life taken care of within a month or so, Harry," Molly said, her eyes fiery with determination. "We were all fighting a war back then, and he was threatening your life! You had no choice!"

"That's my girl," Arthur said as he patted his wife's hand and looked at Harry with a grin tilting one corner of his mouth. "Always coming to the defense of one of her cubs." Harry let that comment fill him with courage for what was to come. "Well, Arthur and Molly, I'd like to make that official." He swallowed and looked both of them in the eyes. "I've loved Ginny ever since my sixth year at Hogwarts. In all the time since then, there's never been anyone else. I have never stopped loving her. I'd like to spend the rest of my life loving and protecting her, if she'll have me." All of the noises from the wind in the trees and the rain on the roof faded until all he could hear was the steady, rapid beat of his heart. "So, Arthur and Molly, before I propose, I'd like your blessing." There was a moment of silence before Molly gave a shriek and threw herself on Harry, enveloping him in a rib-crushing hug before she burst into tears. Horrified, Harry stared over her shoulder at Arthur, who had risen from his seat to place both of his hands on his wife's shoulders. "Molly, I think you're scaring the boy," Arthur said with a chuckle and gently extracted his wife from Harry's surprised embrace. He held out his hand. "Harry, of course you have our blessing. We'd like nothing more in this world than to give our daughter to you and call you 'son' by right." Harry clasped Arthur's hand, only to be dragged into an awkward three-way hug with the elder Weasleys. He was glad for the support his knees felt like a watery Christmas pudding, but the joy he felt in his heart made up for all of his earlier nervousness. He felt the charms dissolve while he was in this embrace, hearing a discreet 'ahem' from the doorway. All three heads turned to see Ron leaning in the door jam. "I reckoned I'd better guard the door," Ron said with a smirk. "Lucky for you, Ginny was upstairs with Hermione and Charlotte." "Thanks, Ron," Harry said as he stepped out of their embrace. "I take it they said yes, mate?" Harry nodded, still overwhelmed.

"Well, then, be quick about asking Ginny keeping Hermione off the scent of this news will be next to impossible!" "Yes, Harry," Arthur said, "when do you plan on asking her?" "Christmas," Harry said, smiling down at both Arthur and Molly. "So I'll need for the three of you to keep mum until then, all right?" "I'll do my best, Harry dear," Molly said, tears trembling on her lashes. "Now you go off and leave us alone for a bit so I can get all my crying over with before the two of you have to leave." She dragged her wand from her pocket. "If I don't sort out my face, Ginny will know something's up for sure!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny found herself trudging back up the path from Hogsmeade to Hogwarts, loaded down with packages and bags. She'd put off her holiday shopping until the last minute again this year. Honestly, this has to stop, she thought to herself as she neared the Obelisk of Remembrance. Still, it had been nice to get out of the castle after she'd spent several days working with the house-elves on the decorations. She'd had a good day in the village, wandering around various shops picking up trinkets for her family and friends. She'd spent some time in Gladrags where she'd finally found the perfect gift for Harry: a deep, forest-green dressing gown for him to keep in her rooms. It was same velvet material her dressing gown had been made of and that he'd loved so much. She couldn't wait to see it on himand off him. She'd even spent some time at Ollivander's and had had a surprisingly nice visit with Christopher and his uncle. It was the second time she'd seen him since their initial encounter a few weeks ago, and he'd looked much better than he had at the store's grand opening. The conversation had remained a little chilly, however they'd managed better than she'd expected. She'd had to decline his invitation for tea; she'd been running late to return to the school. She set her bags down and, after casting a quick warming charm, sat along the rim of the Obelisk to gaze up at the names. The cold, winter sun sent a sharp blade of light across Charlie's name, and she felt a lump rise up in her throat.

"I wish you were here, Charlie," she murmured. "Christmas just isn't the same without you." She thought warmly of the little things he had done for his baby sister on Christmas, including charming all of her dragon statues to fly around her room, emitting tiny puffs of smoke and flame from their tiny noses. Her mother had always been horrified to find her daughter squealing with delight as the statues dipped and spiralled around, but that had been the way Ginny had known Charlie was home for the holidays. Now, of course, the statues perched silent on the top row of her bookshelf in her rooms below Gryffindor Tower. She blinked her eyes rapidly before flicking a finger against her cheek to dash away the tears that had fallen during her reminiscing. "Listen to me," she muttered, "getting weepy when things are going so well for me, Charlie. Teaching has been a dream come true. I feel like I've finally found my place in the world. Ron and Hermione's new daughter is beautiful and growing like a weed. And, best of all, Harry's back in my life." She took out a handkerchief and blew her nose. "I still miss you though. I'll be thinking of you tomorrow." She rose from the fountain and began the walk towards the castle gates. As she walked, she thought of standing next to Harry at Charlotte's christening. She'd been such a good baby, despite all of the boys' attempts to rile her so they could see Uncle Harry in action. He'd been nervous all morning before they had arrived at the church, but the moment they'd been called up to the font, he'd become relaxed and natural, holding Charlotte as if he'd held hundreds of babies throughout his lifetime. For a brief moment, Ginny hadn't been able to help herself from wishing that Charlotte was theirs, and had experienced once again an image of the two of them holding a darkhaired child in the not-so-distant future. The weeks following the christening had fallen into a routine: days teaching classes, afternoons marking tests, papers and tutoring and evenings with Harry. He'd come to her after midnight most nights. Harry had taken the news of Ron's suspension hard and she'd often find him brooding for hours before finally succumbing to the exhaustion that seemed to plague him since their return from London. Approximately a week after Ron had been suspended, Harry had received a letter from the Wizengamot, informing him that he'd been named as a person of interest in the case of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy's death. Because of the nature of the offence and that it had

happened during the War, there would be no public announcement of this development until they'd reached a decision about pursuing the matter further. After this point, Harry's sleep had become fitful, and Ginny had been at a loss at what to do to comfort him. She did know one thing: she needed to remain a calm port in the storm for him now. Despite her own fears of what the future held, he needed her to support him now more than ever. Which had created a problem: they were still keeping their relationship under wraps, and Ginny had grown tired of all of the sneaking. She wanted to be free to show her love for Harry, to be able to hold his hand at dinner, to be seen in public without worrying about who was seeing what. Her family had all been updated on the turn of events and, for the most part, they'd all been supportive. The only one she had any concerns about had been Bill, who had sent her a very cryptic letter a few days after the christening. 'Harry cornered Dad towards the end of the evening and I was certain that he had something serious on his mind. I don't want you to get hurt again, Gin, so please be careful keeping secrets is not a good way to start a relationship...' She'd shaken her head as she'd read the letter, chalking it up to typical big brother attitude. However, in the last week, Harry had seemed a bit jumpy and nervous and, when she'd pressed him for answers, he'd wave it off as insignificant mind-wandering. "Bollocks," she said as she walked through the main doors of the school. He was up to something. "Bollocks, eh?" a voice said from the top of the stairs. "Not very proper language coming from a teacher, Professor Weasley." Ginny looked up and saw Harry smiling down at her. His hair was loose again, dammit. "Taken to eavesdropping, Professor Potter?" "Well, given the way this entryway echoes," he said, his tread light on the steps as he approached her, "it's not too difficult a task." He took a quick look around before he dragged her against him for a kiss. Her toes curled, and she dropped her parcels onto the floor as she allowed herself the luxury of his embrace before taking a step backwards. "Harry,"

she hissed, casting a nervous glance around the empty corridors, "anyone could come along and see us!" "I know," he grinned, and the heat of his gaze sizzled along the nerves of her spine. He tapped a raggedy bit of parchment against her cheek. "I guess it's the fact that there are only twenty students in the castle, and they're all at dinner that I felt it was safe. The Marauder's Map comes in handy, yes?" Ginny snorted. Of course he'd take precautions. Well, we'll see about that. "Well, I have to admit it was a lovely greeting, Harry." He kissed her cheek and bent to pick up her parcels. "Can I help you upstairs with these?" He took an inordinate amount of time surreptitiously squeezing and rattling each one as he piled them back into her arms. "I think I can take them from here," Ginny said with a smile. She did sigh as he cupped her elbow lightly with his hand as they climbed the stairs. "I think you might try to wheedle out the details of my packages, sir." "Guilty as charged," he said, giving her elbow a squeeze. As they walked, Ginny shared her day in town with him and was pleased to only see him glower once when she mentioned Christopher. By the time they'd reached the Fat Lady's portrait, their pace had slowed until, with another quick glance around the corners, Harry pressed an even more urgent kiss on her lips. "Ginny, come stay with me in my rooms tonight," he whispered, his lips nibbling down her neck. "I want to wake up Christmas morning with you in my arms in the Astronomy Tower." Ginny's nerves thrummed with heat. There were only three Gryffindors in the tower for the holidays, so if there was a time to do it, this was it. She looked up into his eyes, forest green with desire, and nodded her head. "I'll come to you at midnight, all right?" Harry smiled, pressing another kiss against the hollow of her throat. "I'll be waiting." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry bustled around his office in the Astronomy Tower, tidying up before Ginny's arrival. He still had several quizzes to mark, but he reckoned he could hold off on finishing up until after Boxing Day. Besides, he had better

things to think about: his night with Ginny. He had a few surprises in store for her and couldn't wait to get started. All throughout dinner, the two of them had cast conspiratorial glances at one another, to the point that Harry was certain the most oblivious person in the room could have figured out what was what. He found himself picturing the expression on Ginny's face following what he hoped would be a successful proposal. Well, if things go the way I hope they will, Harry thought to himself with a smile, we won't have to worry about sneaking around anymore. After a moment, his smile dimmed a little. He thought about the various shop windows he'd peered into between the christening and Christmas Eve. He'd seen crystalline diamonds set in platinum and rubies in the finest gold. Although each of them had been beautiful, none of them had spoken to him. As much as he'd hoped to be able to present a ring to Ginny at the time of his proposal, he'd finally decided it would be best to have her pick out the ring of her dreams. He was roused from his thoughts when he heard a knock on his door. "Come in?" Remus stuck his head in. "Evening, Harry! Do you have a moment or two to spare for a colleague?" Harry snorted. "Of course, Remus, please come in." He smiled as his friend entered the room, closing the door with a nudge from his elbow. He had a gaily wrapped package tucked in the crook of his arm and Harry had a sneaking suspicion of what it contained. "Happy Christmas, Harry," Remus said, extending the package. Harry had seen enough bottles of whisky to know that he was in for a treat. "A bottle of the finest, I presume," he said with a chuckle. "Only the best for our favourite boy," Remus laughed. "Sirius dug this out of the cellar just for the two of us to share. Everyone should have a bottle of the good stuff in their bar, Harry." As they sat by the fire, whisky in hand, Remus' eyes turned serious. "Harry, Sirius told me about Ron's suspension." Harry felt the warm contentment he'd been feeling slither away to the pit of his stomach. "I assume this has to do with what happened at the Malfoys' during the war."

Harry nodded. "Ron's been a trooper about the whole thing, claiming that he's having a bit of a laugh, working on his 'honey-do' list from Hermione, but I can't help to feel like my thoughtlessness has resulted in his career going down the tubes." "Harry, don't be ridiculous," Remus said sternly. "Ron will be fine, trust me. He's had enough commendations to offset anything related to this." They sat in silence for a moment before Remus cleared his throat. "Any news on the hearing?" Harry filled him in. Not that there was much to tell, to be honest. The holidays seemed to have ground everything to a halt over at the Ministry of Magic, the Wizengamot included. The prosecutor had asked for the original files from the coroner's inquest soon after Ron's suspension, and according to Stapleton, they'd sat unattended in the prosecutor's office ever since. Stapleton still felt that things would go as he'd outlined during their initial meeting; Harry just wanted to get it over with. "Well, if you need us for anything, don't hesitate to ask, Harry," Remus said, giving Harry a pat on his knee. "Thanks, Remus," Harry said gratefully before they fell silent once again. "So, I noticed you were scurrying around in here before I arrived." Remus took a long pull from his glass. Harry could feel Remus' gaze being fixed upon him with laser-like acuity. "Big plans for the evening?" "Well, apparently, you've managed to figure it out," Harry muttered under his breath. Remus chuckled. "Don't you worry. I'll cover for the both of you." Harry's cheeks flamed for a moment before he decided he should let Remus in on the secret. "I've decided to propose to Ginny tomorrow." "That's wonderful news, Harry!" Remus said, clapping him hard on the back. Harry pretended to stagger under the playful blow from his friend. "I've no doubt that she'll accept!"

"Thanks, Remus," Harry grinned. "I spoke with Molly and Arthur a couple of weeks ago and they've given me their blessing." He went on to tell Remus about his conversation with the elder Weasleys and his plans for the next day. "I'm hoping Ginny will agree to go looking for her ring sometime next week." "Harry, hasn't Sirius told you about the ring?" Harry stared blankly at Remus for a moment. "N-no, he hasn't. What about a ring?" "I swear the man needs a keeper," Remus muttered under his breath. "I told him that he really ought to transfer the rest of your parents' things over to you, now that you're back in our world again." "Well, before I left for Oxford, he did give me the title to their property in Godric's Hollow," Harry said, feeling more confused by the moment. "There's more?" "Yes," Remus said, "a great deal more. Sadly, many of your family's heirlooms were destroyed the night of your parents' death. However, your parents made every effort to secure the things that mattered most, including their wedding bands and your mother's engagement ring. The ring itself has come down through your family from medieval times, Harry. It's beautiful and would look lovely on your Ginny's hand." "It didn't even occur to me to ask if there was something like that left, Remus," Harry said, dumbfounded. He'd wanted something very special to give to Ginny, something that had ties to his family, something the two of them could share as theirs. "Does Sirius have it at the Range? Can he bring it with him to the castle tomorrow?" Remus smiled. "I don't see why not. Let's get him on the Floo." Harry watched as Remus walked over to the hearth and, taking a pinch of powder from the earthenware jar Harry kept on the mantle, tossed it into the flames. They roared for a moment, turning green and cool. Remus knelt down, stuck his head into the flames and shouted, "Sirius Black!" After a few moments, he sat back on his haunches. "He's coming. Grab us a couple of chairs, mate."

Harry flicked his wand and Summoned the two wing chairs closer to the fireplace. As he and Remus sat down, Sirius' head appeared in the flames. He looked rumpled from sleep and, if Harry had to guess, not pleased about being woken. "Hi, Sirius!" "Hi yourself, Potter," Sirius grumbled, a frown creasing his brow. "I have to wonder what would cause either of you to Floo me now, considering the fact that I'll be at the castle in less than twelve hours!" "Well, it really is your fault, Padfoot," Remus said drolly. "My fault?!" Sirius barked. "How on earth is it my fault? I was lying in bed, minding my own business when I heard your voice booming through the room!" "Sirius," Harry interrupted. He knew he'd better say something or they'd still be at it by the time Ginny arrived. "I'm asking Ginny to marry me!" There was a cacophony of coughing and choking as Sirius' head disappeared from the flames for a moment before he returned, eyes streaming. "Marry you?!" he blurted through the ashes. "Well, yes" Harry said with a grin. "What do you think?" "I I think it's brilliant, Harry," Sirius said before coughing once more. "When do you plan on doing this?" "Tonight. Ginny's coming up in a bit toto exchange gifts," Harry murmured, feeling his cheeks turn red. "Right, Harry," Sirius snorted and started coughing again, "whatever you say." "Sirius," Remus said warningly. "In any event, it still doesn't explain why you called me tonight when you could have told me the news tomorrow." "Hopeless, Harry," Remus complained, turning to Harry and rolling his eyes, "the man is hopeless. Sirius, the boy needs the ring!"

Harry had to stifle a laugh. Sirius slapped his forehead. "I am the biggest idiot on the planet." "Too right you are, Padfoot." Remus was beside himself with laughter. "I told you to give the boy his parents' things from the vault months ago." "Shut it, Moony," Sirius said with a grumble. "Harry, I'll be right back I've got them in the safe here." The flames dimmed as Sirius disappeared for a moment. Harry's stomach twitched with nerves. He hoped that the rings would suit Ginny; that they would be just the thing that he'd been looking for. It was several moments before the flames flickered back to life and Sirius reappeared within the flames. "Hold out your hand, Harry." Harry reached towards the flames and Sirius placed an emerald-green leather box in his hand. He remembered a holiday season, several years earlier, when Sirius had presented him a similar box as he'd struggled to come up with a way to tell Ginny how much he loved her. This leather box appeared to be as ancient as the one he'd held all those years ago, and he noticed with pleasure that the Potter family crest had been embossed in the top. He experienced the same feelings he had had that night: a bit of fear, but mostly exhilaration. He opened the box and gasped. Nestled against the deepest black velvet sat three rings. Two of the rings appeared to be identical with the exception of their size it was clear that one was intended for a man and the other a woman. The firelight shimmered off the silver-white edges of the bands and Harry noticed the intricacies of the impressions which appeared to run around the ancient gold circumference of each. It was the ring in the centre of the trio, however, that captured his attention. A fiery, pear-shaped emerald sat proudly atop a delicate band of gold and platinum, the metal twisted into a weave of knot work that looked impossible to create. Yet there it sat, strong, resilient and true. It was, quite simply, perfect. "I'd always wondered what had happened to them after your parents were killed, Harry." Harry tore his gaze away from the rings at the sound of Sirius' gruff voice. He stared into the shimmering grey eyes of his godfather. They were filled with emotions, pride for a godson warring with the grief of

the past. "As I sat in my cell awaiting the trip to Azkaban, I was sick with worry over your parents, over you. I knew that Dumbledore would know the best thing to do for you, but it didn't stop me from worrying. The night before I was sent to the island, James' solicitor visited me and told me they'd seen toto taking care of your parents' burial. "After I'd been exonerated, I began to think about your inheritance and the items the probate court had placed in storage for you. I spent hours in their vault at Gringott's, despondent over the loss of your parents, Harry. It wasn't until I'd come across that box that I'd realized that they'd been saved for you. Seeing them again brought back so many memories of seeing your parents together, the symbol of their devotion for one another sparkling in the light. I knew that, if anything happened to them, they would have wanted you to have these to pass along to the woman you loved." Harry felt tears streaming down his cheeks as he picked up the larger of the two wedding bands. My father's ring, Harry thought to himself. Ancient runes had been heavily etched into the gold, their edges dulled with age and wear. He felt its weight in his palm and wondered what his parents' wedding day had been like, when they had exchanged these rings amidst their family and friends. There was no need for any more searching. He'd found them, and he knew to the depths of his soul that Ginny would feel the same. He slipped his father's ring back into the case and slowly closed the lid. Raising his eyes, he said the only thing that needed to be said. "Thank you for keeping these safe for me, Sirius. Thank you for everything." Sirius smiled, turning his eyes to Remus, who'd stayed quiet throughout their exchange. "It's been our honour, Harry." Remus blew his nose and winked at Harry. "We expect to see Ginny's on her finger tomorrow at dinner." Harry nodded, swiping at the tears on his cheeks. As the two men said goodbye, he slipped the ring box into his pocket, a smile teasing the corner of his mouth. He had a plan. 20: Post and Presents

Ginny glanced around her room once more, just to make sure she wasnt forgetting something. Got my toothbrush and slippers bloody cold up there this time of yearthe new nightie Hermione sent me Harry will love this oh! Her eyes fell upon the little crystal bottle sitting on her nightstand. Shed looked at it earlier in the evening and realized that only a few doses of the birth control potion remained in it. Shed mentally promised herself that shed head to the village for more supplies after Boxing Day. She walked over to the nightstand and, removing the stopper, poured out two teaspoonfuls of the potion and emptied them into the glass she kept tucked away in the drawer. She added a cup of water and stirred the mixture clockwise before setting the spoon down and drinking the mixture. Her nose crinkled at the taste slightly bitter and chalky but necessary. As she set the glass aside, Periwinkle blinked at her from his nest inside her bag. No, Im sorry, you cant come with me, she said as she scritched his ears, although I dare say well find you up there come morning. As she removed the cat, he grumbled deep in his chest, making her laugh out loud. He really was a wonderful companion and she knew that she hadnt been as attentive to him as in the past. She gave in to the sheer pleasure of running her fingers through Peris thick coat and listened as his rumbling purr reverberated through his solid frame. Ten minutes later, after scratching the cat all over his body paying particular attention to his chest and tummy she stood up and went over to her wardrobe to retrieve a small, gaily wrapped package from the top shelf. I meant to hang onto this until tomorrow, but I think you should have it now, Ginny said as she set it down in front of the well-rumpled cat. He gave the package a sniff then proceeded to tear it apart with his claws, revealing a handmade catnip mouse. With a wave of her wand, Ginny cleaned up the shreds of paper and sent them flying into the fireplace while Periwinkle jumped and cavorted about with obvious glee. Cats are weird, she quipped, picking up the last articles of clothing destined for the bag. As she closed the zipper, she noticed a flash of white outside the window. It was Hedwig. Ginny opened the window and the owl flew in, alighting on the back of one of the armchairs next to the fireplace. Peri, slightly intoxicated by the fragrant catnip, seemed oblivious to the birds presence. A good thing, really while the cat had accepted Harrys presence in Ginnys life without too much difficulty, the owl was quite another issue.

Hello, Hedwig, Ginny said, giving the bird a gentle stroke along her back. Whats this youve got? She untied the letter attached to the owls leg and broke the seal along the back. Ginny meet me at the top of the tower at midnight. With love, Harry Ginny frowned. Its threatening to snow tonight what on earth could he be thinking? She turned and looked at Hedwig, who seemed to be waiting for her to send a response back. Clever bird. Ginny picked up a quill and jotted three words: Are you mad? She tied the note to Hedwigs leg and sent her on her way. Five minutes later, the owl was back with another note: As a hatter, but please say youll come? Ive a surprise for you. H Blasted man knows how much I love surprises, she thought to herself. She scribbled one last note: Ill be there in five minutes. G She filled Peris water dish, put on her warmest cloak, and picked up her bag. Goodnight, Peri. Ill see you in the morning. Peri murped happily and resumed playing with the mouse. Ginny whispered a Disillusionment Charm and headed for Harrys quarters. Five minutes later (and one fairly close call with Filch), she arrived at the tower. Before she could reach for the handle, the door flew open and she found herself staring at Dobby and Winky.

Miz Wheezy! Dobby squealed, racing over to hug her legs. Ginny found it strange watching the little house-elf clinging to her invisible legs and whispered the spell to reverse the charm. Harry Potter told Dobby Miz Wheezy would be coming! Please, come in! Ginny walked into the room and set her bag down onto the floor. Winky gestured over towards the stairs leading up to the top of the tower. Harry Potter is wishing to give you this so you is keeping warm, miss. Ginny saw a fur-lined cloak draped over the railing. Deep green velvet, it looked to be the warmest cloak shed ever seen. Her fingers trailed through the white fur with delight and she tugged her cloak off to try it on. Miz Wheezy must go upstairs now, Dobby said. Dobby and Winky will take care of your belongings. T-thank you, Dobby, Ginny said gently, Winky. I appreciate it. She turned and headed up the stairs, her mind racing. What is he up to? When she reached the top of the tower her breath caught in her throat. Hed turned the top of the tower into a fairy wonderland. Lights danced in the air and in the simple tree that hed decorated with strings of popcorn and cranberries. A fire burned in a large, bronze bowl. A cosy couch sat next to the fire and a bottle of mulled wine sat steaming on a small table, two crystal mugs sparkling with the firelight. She could see the stars in the heavens, seemingly enhanced by the darkness of the new moon. The Milky Way spread across the night sky like a gossamer wing and her favourite constellations winked and sparkled at her. Hello, Gin. She sensed movement behind her and turned to find Harry standing quietly, wearing a similar cloak, its fur a deep black. He walked up to her and wrapped his arms around her waist, breathing in the fragrance of her hair before placing a gentle kiss on her lips. Harry, this is lovely, she said as she snuggled into his arms. Well, one of my favourite Christmas seasons was the Christmas of my seventh year. Remember that? he asked.

Ginny nodded. How could I forget? Youd been stuck at the castle practising and Id gone on to the Burrow, angry that youd had to stay behind. But then I came to you for New Years, Harry said, nuzzling a kiss along her jaw. Ive remembered the tree at your parents home from that day on and have wanted to share another one with you ever since. But what happens when its time to go inside? Ginny asked. Id like nothing more than to wake up in your arms and see it next to the fireplace downstairs. Well just have to take it with us, Harry smiled. Ginny gave him a light punch in the arm. You spoil me. Rotten, I hope, he quipped before steering her towards the couch. He poured them both a mug of mulled wine and settled in next to her to stare up at the stars. They sat listening to the wind in the trees and counting shooting stars for several minutes until a light dusting of snow started to fall. Dont worry were shielded. You think of everything, dont you? Ginny said with a laugh. I dunno about that, he said, his cheeks turning red. A moment later Ginny felt the mug being taken from her hands and turned to find him looking at her, his face quite serious. Harry? Is everything all right? Yes, everythings fine, Gin, he said. I was just thinking about the time that Id realised Id fallen in love with you. Really? she said, her stomach fluttering slightly. She ran her thumb along his lips and was rewarded with a soft kiss on her wrist. When was that? Well, it was long before Id finally worked up the nerve to tell you. Youll remember, I had a hard enough time asking you out to Hogsmeade!

Ginny smiled with the memory. Shed loved that old beech tree ever since. So are you going to tell me or are you going to make me try to figure it out? Minx. Harry gave her a quick kiss. I think it was right after the final Quidditch match of the season my sixth year. Ginny snorted. Youre joking! Way back then? I mean it! he said with a grin. Wed been going out for a few months, and Id wondered about this feeling Id been experiencing. I distinctly remember that it was when Id caught the Snitch. The first person Id wanted to share that victory with was you. I found myself searching the skies for you and then, there you were, flying towards me with your hair loose and shining in the sun. Ginny shivered as she felt his fingers slip through the hair at the nape of her neck. I seem to recall that I practically leapt off of my broom into your lap. Scared me to death for a moment, Harry chuckled briefly before turning serious eyes onto her once more. When you kissed me, I knew that Id come home; I knew that there would never be anyone else in my life Ginny felt her eyes fill with tears as she pressed her lips against his, their kiss deepening into one overflowing with promise. She tasted the sharpness of the wine on his tongue and the depth of his need as it stoked the fire of her own. She wanted to scream her feelings for this man from the mountaintops, to show everyone how much he meant to her. She wanted to be with him from the rising of the sun to the setting of the moon. If the nine years that had passed had taught her anything, it was that the time had come to be together; forever. As he broke the kiss, he pressed his forehead against hers, their breath mingling before he opened his eyes once more. Ive a question for you, he said. Anything, she said softly, breathing in the scent of sandalwood and Harry. I know that its been frustrating to keep everything under wraps, Gin.

She blinked. Are you certain youre not using your Legilimency? Because I swear I was thinking the same thing! He chuckled. I swear. Ive been thinking about it for some time. I think Id wanted to keep things quiet because I know that theres some uncertainty on our horizon. You mean the trial, right? Ginny said, feeling a shiver creep down her back that had nothing to do with the chill in the air. He nodded. It would be sensible to wait until things have sorted themselves out, one way or the other. Ginny opened her mouth to protest only to have her words cut off by another searing kiss. But Im not sensible, he whispered. He shifted his weight slightly and slipped his hand into his pocket. She peered down to see him removing a ring. Suddenly, it was as if someone had turned down all of the sounds surrounding them. Instead, all Ginny could hear was a roaring in her ears. The stone at the centre of the ring shimmered with a deep green fire, the strands of gold and platinum looped in an intricate series of knots that looked too delicate to exist. Her eyes shot up to Harrys and she felt the tears of shock and joy streaming down her cheeks. This ring is part of a set that belonged to my mum, he said from what seemed to be a great distance away. Its been in my family for generations. The necklace I gave you New Years Eve ten years ago was part of the set. Her fingers reached up to touch the pendant that rested near the hollow of her throat. Shed worn it under her clothes ever since the night theyd finally shared their feelings, thinking that it was as if a part of him was always with her when shed worn it. This time when she touched the stone, it felt warm to the touch, warmer than it should be from body heat alone. She looked back down at the ring - the stones fire seemed to intensify. She raised her eyes to his, to see the same green fire that had shone from within the stone reflected and amplified twenty-fold and heard the words shed longed to hear coming from his beautiful lips.

I love you more than life itself, Ginny, and I will until the day I die. This I hope will be many, many years from now. He reached down to take her left hand in his. Will you marry me? She began to laugh; a spring of mirth was gushing inside her. Only one word would suffice. Yes. As he slipped the ring onto her finger, warmth infused her body and knowledge of rightness, crystalline in its clarity, surrounded her. She felt as if theyd been blessed by some unseen hand. And then all thought ceased as he took her breath away with his kiss. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Something like mint. Despite his stubborn intent to remain asleep, Harry blearily opened his eyes and swallowed a groan when he noticed the time. He and Ginny had had a very late evening making love on top of the tower for hours before theyd managed to sneak back downstairs to his rooms. Hed done as hed promised and brought the tree down with them and theyd sat in front of the fire, enjoying their tree while munching on the myriad of treats Dobby and Winky had set up for them. It had been dawn before theyd crawled into bed to sleep. By that time, all Harryd wanted for Christmas (besides snuggling with his fiance) was a nice lie-in, but now he could have sworn there was an herbal, mint-like fragrance somewhere near by. Sure enough, hed barely turned his head when he discovered the source of the smell: he had a catnip mouse parked on the pillow next to his ear. He shifted slightly and saw Periwinkle, contentedly dozing, sandwiched between him and Ginny. Snoring, as a matter of fact. Harry had had no idea that it was even possible for a cat to snore, but here was the proof. He struggled to keep from laughing as the cat let out a particularly loud snort (well, loud for a cat), his feet twitching as though he were chasing something in his dreams. Finally, Harry lost the fight and burst out in a guffaw: the beast had stuck out his tongue.

Harry was wiping tears of laughter from his eyes when he felt a poke in his side. It was Ginny, and she didnt look happy. What on earth is going oooooon, she mumbled through a yawn, rubbing sleep from her cinnamon eyes. Peri opened his eyes and stretched before rising to his feet, making several turns and curling up in the opposite direction. Within seconds, his snores resumed. Did you know your cat snores? Harry said incredulously. Ginny appeared to be non-plussed. Yes, of course, she said as she carefully shifted position to Harrys side of the bed which involved a duck under the covers and a few moments of tickling and snuggled in against his chest, Periwinkle now asleep in a loaf-like state behind her. Snores like a motor boat. She raised her head for a moment, extracted the catnip mouse and tossed it over her shoulder. I do believe he likes you, Mr. Potter. Harry smiled. Well, Im glad for that, Miss Weasley, although I think Id rather not wake up to find anything other than a catnip mouse next to my head in our bed. Our bed. She smiled up into his eyes. I do like the sound of that. Me too, Harry murmured before catching her lips against his for a proper good morning greeting. Within moments, he found her purring as loudly as Periwinkle. Although her purr did something to his insides that the cats never could. Its wonderful waking up with you here, Gin. I can only stay for a little while longer, she said sadly, and her arms squeezed his waist even tighter. The students will be awake before too long. Well, before you go, I think we should talk a little about our plans, Harry said, nibbling the underside of her chin. She arched her neck slightly, purring once more. Oh, do you mean our plans regarding this? She raised her left hand and wiggled her fingers. The

mornings first rays flashed against the emerald and Harry smiled. Other than telling the family, of course. Yes, Harry said leaning back so that he could look into her eyes. She was so beautiful, sleep-tousled and drowsy. The love he saw radiating from her bright brown eyes filled him with such joy that he pressed an urgent kiss on her lips. By the time theyd separated, colour had flooded her cheeks, making them rosy and alluring. When shall we marry? If it were up to me, and you kept kissing me like that, Id suggest getting dressed, heading into Hogsmeade and finding the nearest justice, Ginny murmured against his chest. Your mum would kill us, Harry said simply. Although I think your brothers would do their best to beat her to it. Ginny pouted. Harry gave her a squeeze. It sounds very romantic, minx, but lets be practical. They snuggled for a moment. Harrys thoughts moved towards the impending trial. He was of two minds, of course. A part of him wanted to make certain that his past would stay in the past, and a major part of that involved the trial. Could he, in good conscience, marry Ginny with all of this hanging over them? Another part of him had to struggle not to agree with her idea to bail on the Christmas luncheon and run off to town. Do you want to wait until after the trial? she said, her voice slashing through his thoughts. He jolted and found himself pinned under her intense gaze. There. Ive said it. Said the thing I know has been haunting you for weeks. The thing I could see casting shadows across your face just a few moments ago. Im sorry, Gin Youve nothing to apologise about, Harry, she said forcefully. Its been weighing on my mind as well. But what you said last night is right this isnt about being sensible. Anything can happen at anytime. She paused for a moment. Have you heard anything from Stapleton?

Harry rubbed his eyes before speaking. No, not really. I realise were in the middle of the holidays, but I cant help but feel as though Ive got the Sword of Damocles hanging over my head. Life is filled with uncertainties, love, Ginny murmured, the look in her eyes softening before she pressed a soft kiss to his throat. We cant wait for life to become certain because it never will. If we havent learned that by now, after everything thats happened, then I dont know what else to say to convince you not to wait. Harry knew in his heart that she was right. No one knew what the future had in store for them. He propped himself up on his elbow and stared down into her lovely face. Do you really want to sneak out and do this? he asked. Ginnys eyes widened. Run off to Hogsmeade today? No, you were right about Mum shed kill us. But I dont want to spend a lot of time planning some ridiculously huge wedding. She pressed another kiss to his lips. Lets tell the family, then put our heads together about a date tonight, okay? Harry nodded. All right, Gin. An hour later, they said their goodbyes by the main door to the tower. Ginny held her disgruntled cat snugly in her grasp as the Disillusion Charm slipped over her body. As she closed the door, Harry felt a slight chill slither across his neck and hoped, once more, that he hadnt made a mistake. By the time Harry headed down to the Great Hall for the Christmas luncheon, he felt much better. Hed wallowed under the showerhead in his rooms for what seemed to have been an hour in an attempt to think through every contingency plan he could. All that had done was made him feel like a waterlogged fool with a bad headache. As hed brooded in front of the fire, something that Hermione had told him during their seventh year shimmered in his mind: Is it a glass half-empty or half-full? At the time shed given him the advice, anyone whod known him would have easily placed him into the half-empty camp. Hed never been able to shift his thinking into a more optimistic path, but at the time thered hardly been anything to be optimistic about. That was then, and this was now. During his musings, hed come to realize that despite the trial, he had plenty to be optimistic about. Stapleton had

given him a roadmap for the events to come, and Harry hadnt been able to crack through the logic of anything the barrister had told him. He had the woman hed loved since hed discovered what love was back in his life and, not only that, shed just agreed to become his wife! Hed taken the liberties of thinking of the happy future they could have in store for them, filled with love and family. His throat had grown tight at the thought of their children growing up and coming to school with their cousins. All he had to do was focus on the positive, and hed be able to get through anything. He grinned as he came around the corner and was greeted by a vision. His Ginny. She was wearing an emerald green velvet gown, the perfect shade to match the pendant nestled at the base of her throat and the ring that sparkled on her finger. Shed worn her hair up again and Harry had to stifle a growl. Shed left little tendrils loose to tease the nape of her neck and shoulders, and he knew hed be distracted by them all throughout their meal. Looking into her eyes, it was apparent shed counted on that. Minx, he murmured before tugging her into an alcove just outside the Great Hall to give her a kiss. Are you trying to make me a babbling idiot? Maybe just a little, she said before arching a ginger brow. I see you left your hair down as well. Busted, he thought to himself with a smile. Two can play that game, Miss Weasley. Shall we go inside? I think I hear the twins. Which set? Ginny asked with a laugh. Both! Harry took her hand into his and kissed it. Lets go in, my lady, he said with a roguish grin. Its time to face the masses. Pushing the door open and entering, Harry had to chuckle over the various expressions they encountered when they walked into the massive room with their hands linked. Giggling from several of the students, along with a few withering glances from some of the girls, greeted them as they walked towards the Weasleys. Glancing up at the staff table, he noticed a cool appraisal from the staff (although he noticed Professor McGonagall had

looked rather smug to Snapes sourness). As they approached the family table they received mostly friendly nods from the Weasley males (Bill was scowling despite the fact Ron and Arthur were grinning broadly enough to have turned into Cheshire cats), and puzzlement from Hermione, who promptly frowned up into her husbands face, clearly wondering why he was smiling like that. It wasnt until she caught a glimpse of Ginnys ring that all hell broke loose. Hermione burst into tears and within seconds, both Harry and Ginny were clenched in rib-crushing hugs with their friend. Fred and George swiftly produced some of the loudest crackers any of them had ever seen or heard before and sent showers of sparks raining over their heads for ten minutes straight. Percy and Penelope shared warm hugs of congratulations with them just before Harry received a hearty slap on the back from Ron. Harry was watching Ginny with her parents Molly dabbing tears from her daughters cheeks with a hanky when he noticed Bill standing quietly towards the back of the crowd. He took a deep breath and headed towards where Ginnys eldest brother stood. So, Bill said softly, but with enough steel for Harry to pay attention, I take it that this has something to do with the secrecy at the christening? Yes it does, Harry said firmly. I wanted to speak with your parents and ask for their permission for Ginnys hand. He looked Ginny's brother's eyes: icy-blue, stormy and intense. Bill, I understand that you have concerns about Ginny and me. I think Id be worried if you didnt. You hurt her terribly, you know, Bill said, his tone very matter of fact. You hurt her, my mum and dad, Ron, the entire family. I know that theyve all managed to forgive you, and now Ginnys agreed to become your wife. But I want you to know that if you ever hurt her or my family again, forgiveness will not be an option. Harry swallowed hard. Hed always known Bill to be a fairly jovial person. However, it was clear to him that hed need to do a lot more in the way of winning Ginnys older brother over to their corner. I understand, Bill, Harry said solemnly. Harry looked towards the main doors of the hall as Sirius and Remus arrived. Can we have a word after lunch today? I think you and I need to discuss a few things.

Bill nodded. As long as Ginny is there as well. No more secrets from her. Harry was preoccupied all through the splendid lunch and well into their dessert course. Even the verbal jousts from the twins had not been able to bring him out of his thoughts long enough to fool his fiance. Ginny poked him in the side as he took a bite out of his treacle tart. Where are you, Harry? she whispered, a frown creasing her brow. Youve barely said a word all afternoon. Did you happen to notice the daggers Bill has been shooting our way all afternoon? Harry murmured into her ear. When she shook her head, he continued. I think hes still got some reservations about the two of us, so he and I are having a chat after lunch, Harry muttered, tipping his glasses up onto his forehead and rubbing his eyes. Youre invited as well. Ginnys head turned back towards where her brother was seated next to Fleur. Oh, I wouldnt miss this for the world. Harry blinked. Hed seen her temper on more than one occasion and if the surge of colour rising up her neck was any indication she was piling up a full head of steam. Gin, hes just wor Worried about his little baby sister again, thats what hes worried about, she growled. Harry was stunned to find himself thinking for a moment there shed sounded an awful lot like her cat. Well, Ill be more than happy to disabuse him of that concern. Oh God. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ After exchanging several hugs and well wishes, Harry and Ginny left the hall, Bill following close behind. Ginny was fuming. Shed been having one of the best days of her life, even if Mum had tried to talk her ear off about wedding plans. That was before Harry had told her that Bill wanted to speak with them. At that point shed seen red. How dare he behave as if she were still toddling around at his knee! She was a grown woman who didnt interfere with any of her brothers relationships. And if the rest of the family had found it within their hearts to forgive Harry, then she couldnt wait to hear his reasons for continuing the feud.

The trouble was she hadnt realized there was a problem. Bill had seemed perfectly accepting of their relationship when theyd seen him at the christening. Now Ginny knew that it had had more to do with Mum and Fleur being around than any change of heart he may have had. Well, the time had come for the air to be cleared. Ginny was determined to have the Weasley family united in their happiness for her and her new fianc by the time she went to sleep that night. By any means necessary. She smiled and ran through the details of a particularly gruesome hex once more before they entered the Room of Requirement. She looked around and noticed that it had been appointed much like a miniature version of Harrys office in the Astronomy Tower. Taking comfort in his surroundings, she thought to herself. Good for him. As Harry started to discuss the past, Ginny watched the two men closely it was the eyes that gave it all away. If she paid attention only to the eyes, she was certain that theyd be springing from their chairs and be at each others throats in an instant. She heard Harrys voice distantly as she laid her hand upon his arm. She focused on her love for him, the feelings theyd shared the night before on the tower, hoping to calm him. She noticed a grin pass across Harrys face as he gave her hand a quick squeeze before turning to look at Bill. Bill looked pale. Ginny? What did you just do? I didnt do anything, Bill, she replied. Yes, you did I saw your auras change, both of them, he said, running his fingers through his hair, destroying his well-kept ponytail in a matter of seconds. Ginny blinked. O-kay then, she said, quickly looking over at Harry out of the corner of her eye. Harrys expression was hooded. Yeah, I know, you had Trelawney too if all Id ever learned about auras was what I learned in her class Id think it was utter crap, Bill said before moving his chair closer, his eyes lit with intrigue. But I can see auras its kept me alive more times than I can remember when Im out in the tombs. If you cant see whats normally invisible, you dont last long in my line of work. When I came in here I could see Harrys aura it was red on the edges with a gold centre the same aura Ive seen around him since I met

him after his third year. Then you leaned over to touch him just a second ago and after that both of your auras changed colour. Yeah, so? Harry asked brusquely. Auras dont change, Bill said firmly. Until you die, of course, and then they just go away. Ginnys aura is blue with a red centre, but once you touched, both auras went gold. So whats that mean, William? Ginny asked, knowing that he hated anyone calling him anything other than Bill. I suspect that it means that the two of you are soul bonded, he said, looking somewhat sheepish. Harry snorted and Ginny turned to arch her brow at him. While she was the first to admit it sounded fanciful, she liked the idea of being soul-bonded to her fianc. Whats that mean for those of us who dont hold to all this intangible, Divination crap? Harry grumbled. It is what it is, Harry, Bill said simply. Its like I said before: auras dont normally change, and no two peoples are exactly alike. But yours changed before my eyes, and now youre both pulsing the same shade of gold. He paused and leant back in his seat. If I had to guess, Id say thats an indication that at some level youre joined together closer than most people could ever hope, which pretty much obviates my earlier concern that youd take a runner on us again, Harry. She watched Harrys eyes narrow to near-slits. Thats what youve been thinking? All day long, youve been shooting me that evil glare of yours. Yeah, Bill replied. Harry nodded. When he spoke again, his voice was deadly calm. Ive already done that once it was like walking away from the land of the living for nine years. Doing that again would kill me. The intensity of Harrys tone made Ginny shiver. He wasnt just stating a fact he was making a vow.

Well, good; saves me the trouble then, Bill said, a flush riding his cheeks. Take care of her, Harry. I intend to, he replied. All of the warm feelings shed been experiencing came to a halt. Of all the nerve! Ginny thought to herself. Theyve forgotten Im even in the room! She stomped her foot and had to hide a smirk when they both jumped. Gentlemen! The two of you go from posturing like a couple of bulls about to battle to the point where youve both decided that everythings all right? Just like that? Dont I have a say in any of this? Harry had the decency to blush. Im sorry, love Ive got a few things to say to you, William, she snapped, turning her gaze upon her brother. If you hadnt noticed, Im not a child any longer. Im a grown woman and can be trusted to make my own decisions. Now, I appreciate what youve told us about the auras, I really do. But Ill have your word that youll not treat either of us as if we were still wet behind the ears. Do I make myself clear? Bill nodded. Thats the smartest thing youve done since you got here, you git, she said before giving both he and Harry a thump on the arm with her fist. Now, if the two of you have finished, what do you say we get back to the Great Hall? Men, Ginny thought to herself as the three of them rose from their seats and headed towards the door. A few moments of macho blustering and its settled. At least she wasnt running about patching the two of them up as shed had to do last summer at the Three Broomsticks. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Draco flipped the locks on Ollivanders shop with a hard snap. He was really getting tired of his continuing charade, especially when one considered that attempting to manage a business whose product he knew nothing about was almost impossible. Almost, but not quite. Ollivander was managing to keep up with customer requests, enough to hold off suspicion. The Imperious Curse worked wonders for that, but Ollivanders

strength was beginning to fade. It was as if the recent news of Potter and Weasleys engagement had begun to sap the life out of him. Youd think the pair of them were members of the royal family, Draco thought to himself as he felt the Polyjuice Potion start to wear off. The Daily Prophet had published an article two days earlier. The only pleasure hed received from reading it was watching Ollivanders face crumple with despair as hed read it aloud. Minister of Magics Daughter to Wed Harry Potter By Lavender Finnegan, society editor The Daily Prophet is pleased to announce the engagement of Ginevra Molly Weasley and Harry James Potter. Information was obtained from sources within Hogwarts Castle, where Potter and Weasley are employed as professors. The engagement was announced to family members during Christmas Day celebrations at the school. Potter and Weasley could not be reached for comment. When initially asked for a formal statement, Minister of Magic Arthur Weasley declined comment. However, his office released a brief, two-sentence press release by the close of business yesterday: Our family is overjoyed by Harry and Ginnys decision to marry. We ask the public to respect our wishes for privacy at this time as we prepare for this joyous occasion. Professor Weasley is the youngest of Minister and Mrs. Weasleys children and the third to marry. Professor Potter, world famous for his destruction of Lord Voldemort, is the only child of the late James and Lily Potter of Godrics Hollow. Wedding date details have yet to be disclosed. Now that hed had a few days to think about it, Draco realized that accessing Ginnys information would be much more difficult now that she was engaged. What reason would she have for visiting with Ollivander? True, she had made a point of stopping into the shop twice during the holidays and, as painful and degrading as it had been impersonating the wand maker, Draco had felt that hed been making progress. Her demeanour was more relaxed and, while the word friendly may not have been accurate, it had been clear that shed stopped being wary and stand-offish.

He opened the door to the office to find Flint and Goyle sitting by the fireplace, laughing over a game of Exploding Snap. Cant you two find anything moremoredignified to do in your spare time? he snapped. Both men jumped, knocking over a bottle of Firewhisky. S-sorry, Draco, Goyle stammered. Draco waved a hand. Is there any news from London? he asked as he stripped off the velvet jacket hed worn as Ollivander and tossed it onto a pile of clothing in one of the corners. The MLES are still stumbling around after their own tails, Flint said. Our sources within the department indicated their collaboration with Scotland Yard on the DNA analysis has gone no where So far, Draco warned before stripping completely. He grinned as he watched Flint and Goyle fidget before he picked up a dressing gown tying the belt securely around his waist before taking a seat nearest the fireplace. The men who were at the St. Margarets site need to be particularly careful about their movements until the dust settles. Ive done a bit of research and DNA testing is a serious issue to contend with. Who all were involved in that mission again? Spencer, Daniels, Michaelsand Goyle, Flint said nervously. Draco looked at Goyle. He was practically trying to crawl into the woodwork, a mean feat considering hed expanded markedly since their days at Hogwarts. Stupid twit, he thought to himself. Well, what had to be done had to be done. Flint, have the three of them brought to my home in Glasgow. We need to have a little face-to-face meeting, I think. Goyle and I will chat in a bit, wont we? Goyle bowed his head and shuddered. Not as stupid as I thought. Now, its clear with the news of Weasley and Potters engagement that accessing the girls files through this ruse has been compromised. I want suggestions for alternatives. How about using a house-elf? Flint asked. Explain, Draco said, steepling his fingers in front of his face.

I remember hearing stories about Potter being friendly with one of the house-elves up at the castle. Yes, Draco said, the memory flickering bright in his mind. He managed to set one of our house-elves free. I think his name was Dobby. Father was furious, especially because hed been bested by a twelve-year-old boy and a stupid house-elf. Draco lit a cigarette and sent a stream of blue-grey smoke into the air. Whats your point, Flint? Send a female house-elf up to Hogwarts to assist with the care of the castle. Order it to ingratiate itself with this Dobby and see where it leads us. Draco slowly nodded. It would give us a set of ears and eyes in the castle, which would be an improvement over where were at now. He took another drag from his cigarette. Very well, pick one of the house-elves from the Glasgow house while youre there then come back here with it. How will we get it up to the castle? Goyle asked. Draco smiled. Well have Ollivander deliver it to the castle. That will be a nice touch. Now, Gregory, he said, pinning his gaze upon Goyles sweating face, its time for us to have our little talk. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ A week after New Years, Benjamin Eldridge, Esquire, frantically rifled through the stack of papers sitting in his in-box. That was the last time hed ever take a month off for the holidays. By the time he and his family had returned from the south of France, he and his entire family had fallen ill, including the dog. Hed barely been able to make it into the office himself and would have probably stayed at home in bed if it hadnt been for the call hed received on the Floo from his assistant that morning. Seven little words had been enough to drag him from his sickbed: The Chief Prosecutor wishes to see you. Within ten minutes, Eldridge had leapt from his bed, showered and shaved so quickly hed come close to lopping off his left ear before Apparating to the Ministry. He was now attempting to find the file that had caused all of this trouble: the coroners inquest for Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy.

Hed been told that he would be receiving a case that could make or break his career with the Wizengamot. He just didnt know what would have dragged this nine-year-old file back into the limelight. He hoped to find out within the hour. He picked up the file, straightened his robes and headed down the hall to Allens office. Sir? Eldridge rasped. Why couldnt his voice sound better? Go to the apothecary as soon as possible. He cleared his throat. Sorry, sir, but you wanted to see me? Yes, yes, come in, Eldridge, Frederick Allen boomed from behind his desk. Well make this quick so you can get back home and get well. Its about the Malfoy case. You have the case file, yes? Eldridge nodded. It arrived while I was out on holiday, sir, so I havent had a chance to read it yet. I do know that its an old case, so Im more than a little curious about why its back in the spotlight. Before we go much further, Eldridge, I need for you to sign a confidentiality agreement. Eldridge blinked. A confidentiality agreement? In all his seven years with the Wizengamot hed never had to sign such a thing. May I ask why, sir? The matter at hand pertains to issue which occurred during the War, Allen said, stuffing tobacco into his pipe and setting it ablaze. Fragrant smoke swirled around his bald head for a moment before he continued, As such, we will be dealing with classified information throughout the inquest. We need your vow that what you see, hear and discuss will go no further than the halls of our offices. Is that clear? Eldridge nodded again. Yes, sir. Ill give this my full attention. Might I ask, sir, why I am being assigned to this case? Allen looked out the window for a moment. Eldridge wasnt sure that hed heard the question. A number of reasons, Allen said bluntly. First and foremost, youre not related to any of the players by blood, marriage or adoption. Youre reasonably competent and excruciatingly honest, which qualifies you for a case that may blow up and ruin us all. He handed Eldridge a roll of parchment. Ive had my clerk prepare a synopsis for you.

A case with the potential to blow up all around them? If Eldridge hadnt felt queasy before he certainly did now. He slipped his finger under the wax seal and unrolled the document. Within moments his eyes slipped from the text back to Allen and a cold sweat, which had nothing to do with his flu, covered his brow. Harry Potter? Allen nodded. Harry Potter. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny smiled as she finished writing her notes for her O.W.L.s tutorial class. She and Harry had been working on these classes all year and theyd been progressing quite well, even if she did say so herself. Shed even found herself wishing theyd had something like this when shed been in Hogwarts. As she slipped her notes into her bag, she stole a quick glance in the mirror. She was running late for her meeting with Harry. Ever since Christmas shed felt as if shed been walking on clouds. When shed first seen the article about her engagement shed been prepared to Bat Bogey Hex everyone down at the Prophets offices, starting with Lavender. At least the Prophet's society editor been within walking distance at the Lion and the Owl in Hogsmeade. As time had passed, however, Ginny had realized that a little publicity had been inevitable: she was the daughter of the Minister and her fianc was the Boy Who Lived, otherwise known as the Man Who Killed Voldemort. Shed taken comfort in Harrys strong embrace and focused her attention on one thing: getting through the rest of the school year so they could marry in July. Of course, now, as she trudged up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower, she wished theyd rushed off to Hogsmeade and got it over with. She knocked briefly on the partially-opened door before nudging it with her toe. The sight that she encountered ran her blood cold. Harry stood in the centre of the classroom, his face ashen. She knew that if she touched his cheek it would be damp and clammy. Harry? Whats happened? she said, dropping her bag at the door and racing to his side.

The letter arrived, he rasped, his voice sounding harsh and gritty. Ginny looked down at his right hand, noticing the piece of parchment hed clenched in his fist. Well, what does it say? she asked. Youre scaring me to death, Harry. He handed her the note. Shed barely had a chance to smooth the creases before he spoke. The hearing is set for two weeks from today. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 21: Trials and Tribulations A/N #1: WARNING: There's some implied sexual violence towards the end of this chapter. If that kind of material bothers you, stop after the line "No time like the present." ~~~~~~~~~~~ The heels of Harry's shoes clicked sharply against the flagstone floor leading to McGonagall's office. He checked his watch once again; he only had an hour before his next class and he had plenty to discuss with the headmistress. He would be leaving for London in two days to meet with his solicitor for pre-trial preparations. No, he reminded himself, this isn't a trial it's an inquest. Not that, in his way of thinking, there was much in the way of difference between the two. Stapleton, one the other hand, had been very specific in his last correspondence: I must remind you, Dr. Potter, that this is simply a fact-finding procedure. We'll know soon enough whether or not they intend to bind you over for trial. He shuddered. Glass half full. Focus on the task at hand, Potter, not the one that could be looming around the corner. The task immediately at hand involved securing a substitute for his classes for the rest of the week. McGonagall had proposed asking Professor Tofty to sit in for the week. Although Tofty had to be nearing 100, Harry had agreed, preparing a week's worth of practicum studies for

his upper-level students, and planned to have the lower-level ones work on their constellation mapping projects. At least he didn't have to worry about Quidditch. They were in the tail end of January and the school had been deluged in with blizzardlike conditions for close to two weeks. None of the students were interested in flying with the spectre of hypothermia hanging over their heads. The only creature who seemed to be interested in flying in the soup was Hedwig, and even she had snapped her beak at him after he'd penned a response to Stapleton. She'd eventually relented, but spent several days up in the Owlery upon her return, giving him the cold shoulder. Literally. With the exception of this brief stand-off, the storm hadn't stopped Hedwig from quick trips, though. Like between the Gryffindor and Astronomy Towers, to be precise. Ginny had sent Harry a note just this morning. It had simply read, "I miss you." With all of the preparations, Harry hadn't been able to spend any time with his fiance for several days, other than their usual mealtime conversations. They'd tried to make the most of those moments, but they were both mindful of the fact that they were professors and, as such, they were role models for the students. Given their status as a newly-engaged couple, they'd been able to get away with the occasional innocent kiss after meals or walking hand to elbow along the stairwells, but that was about it. And that was starting to get very old. Harry remembered the last time they'd made love and nearly groaned aloud. Perhaps there was a reason for couples to stay chaste before marriage they wouldn't know what they were missing. Harry was half a mile away in his memories when he ran into Professor McGonagall. The books she'd been holding went flying. Harry lunged out, grabbing her by the arm to keep her from hitting the ground. Her hat went skittering off in one direction while her glasses flipped up and off her nose. "Professor Potter!"

"I'm sorry, Headmistress," Harry stammered, horrified. He dropped to the floor and began collecting the books and her hat. Her glasses were shattered. Bugger it all. "I wasn't paying attention to where I was going." "That was fairly obvious, Potter," a voice drawled nearby. Harry looked up to see Christopher Ollivander leaning against the wall, a small house-elf at his side. "Ollivander," Harry said, his eyes narrowing slightly as he approached the wandmaker. There was something about the way he'd spoken that had made the fine hairs on the back of Harry's neck stand up. "What brings you to the castle today?" "Mr. Ollivander was gracious enough to escort our newest house-elf to the school, Harry," McGonagall interjected, plucking the glasses from Harry's grasp and waving her wand over them. Harry nodded. There had been an accident earlier in the week where one of the house-elves was killed. The school alumni had been asked for their assistance in locating another house-elf to join the staff. "It's good of you to assist us like this, Ollivander." Ollivander waved one of his hands. "It's the least my uncle and I could do for the school and for our community." Harry looked down at the little elf standing next to Ollivander's left. She looked to be several years younger than Dobby, wearing a slightly tatty pillow case. Her eyes were downcast. Most of the house-elves he'd seen had been fairly thin and angular. She was a bit plumper, but curvier as well. Harry supposed that she could be considered attractive, in house-elf standards. Wonder what Dobby will make of her, he thought to himself with a smile before bending down and extending his hand to her. "Hello there," Harry said. "Welcome to Hogwarts" "Her name is Sondi," Ollivander said. "She's been with our family for close to ten years."

"Greetings, Master Potter," Sondi said with a curtsey. McGonagall glanced down at the little elf. "Welcome to Hogwarts, Sondi. I've asked one of our other house-elves to escort you down to the kitchens where he will introduce you to the rest of the staff and answer any questions you may have about the castle and its workings. He is upstairs in my office, so if you will please follow me we'll get you settled in." Ollivander cleared his throat. "Sondi, please remember you represent the Ollivander household and be on your best behaviour." She curtsied nervously. "Sondi will make the Ollivander house proud, sir." He nodded before turning to face McGonagall. "You will let me know if she presents any difficulties, Headmistress?" "Yes, of course, although I don't anticipate any," McGonagall said. "Thank you again for answering our call for assistance, Mr. Ollivander." "My pleasure, Headmistress," Ollivander said with a slight bow. McGonagall ushered the house-elf onto the staircase leading to her office. "Professor Potter, we are scheduled to meet now, correct?" "Yes, Headmistress." He tucked the books McGonagall had been carrying under his arm and headed forward before he felt Ollivander's hand close over his shoulder. "Headmistress, might I have a word with Professor Potter for a moment?" It took everything Harry had in him not to flinch. McGonagall nodded. "Yes, of course. Professor, please come up when you are finished." Harry nodded, waiting until the staircase had begun its ascent before speaking. "You will remove your hand from my shoulder now, Ollivander."

"My apologies, Potter," the wandmaker said smoothly, removing his hand and returning it to his pocket. Harry turned slowly, meeting the man's eyes with what he knew had to have been a glacial stare. "I only meant to offer my congratulations on your engagement." Harry arched a brow. He's just full of surprises, isn't he? "Did you, now?" "Given our history, I can't say that I'm pleased by this turn of events; however, Ginny's happiness has always been my first priority. If she has found happiness with you, then that is all I can wish for her." Harry searched Ollivander's face to discern if there was any evidence of insincerity in the man's eyes and found nothing obviously out of the ordinary. Still, it did seem odd that he would extend his good wishes. "I'll be certain to pass along your kind words to Ginny." He offered his hand. "Thank you very much, Ollivander." Christopher smiled as he shook Harry' hand. "Take care of her." Harry blinked with surprise. "I will." He felt Ollivander's grip intensify slightly before he released his hand. "Well, now that that is finished, I'd best be off," Ollivander said, pulling his gloves onto his hands. He nodded his head towards Harry. "Potter." "Ollivander." Harry watched as the wandmaker headed down the hallway, pulling a small silver flask from his belt as he turned the corner. Harry frowned what was it that was bothering him? He shook his head and headed towards the griffin statue to call for the stairs. By the time he arrived in McGonagall's office, all thoughts of Ollivander's odd behaviour shifted from his mind. He had to stifle a chuckle at the sight of Dobby, who appeared to be doing his best to look taller and sharper than usual. He'd been right: Sondi would be an interesting addition to Hogwarts.

"Dobby will show you around the kitchens and the staff quarters, Sondi," McGonagall said. "If you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask." "Thank you, Headmistress," Sondi said with a shy smile. Dobby's chest appeared to expand another foot. McGonagall turned to Dobby, her own face twitching slightly. "Thank you for the tea, Dobby." Dobby stammered a farewell and, with that, he and Sondi disappeared with a loud snap. Harry finally let himself laugh out loud, only to have McGonagall join him. "That should make for some interesting activity in the kitchens, Minerva." "I've no doubt about that, Harry," McGonagall said, wiping away a tear of mirth from her eye before motioning towards the two wingback chairs next to the fire. "Please, let's sit by the fireplace; it's bitter cold outside, and we've got this lovely tea to share." Harry set down the books and looked at the spread in front of him. He hadn't realized how hungry he actually was until she mentioned the tea. His stomach gave a loud, inelegant grumble as he sat. She arched a brow at him. "So, when was the last time you ate anything?" "I've been doing a bit of running around today and hadn't thought about food much," he muttered. He filled his plate with some sandwiches while she poured. "I thought you could use a little pick-me-up," she said with a smile. "Thank you," Harry said gratefully before sinking his teeth into a lovely smoked salmon sandwich. "This is just the thing." " They ate in silence for several moments before she cleared her throat. "How are you holding up, Harry?" Harry blew out a breath. "All right, considering. You've been remarkably understanding about this entire situation." "Well, I want to do whatever I can to help you get this unfortunate situation behind you so that you can focus on your teaching and your

future, Harry." She took a sip of her tea. "So, tell me what the plan is so we can get this chapter finished." "My solicitor confirmed that the hearing should only take two to three days, tops. However, he wants me to arrive a few days beforehand to prepare, which means I'll be leaving Wednesday morning." "I figured as much," she murmured. "You've made arrangements with Tofty?" "Yes. I'm meeting with him after dinner this evening." She set her teacup down and looked at him with sympathetic eyes. "Well, unfortunately, we haven't been able to make arrangements for Ginny to accompany you, and I'm very sorry about that." Harry nodded grimly he'd figured as much, but it still hurt to hear the words. "We understand, Minerva. Besides, she wouldn't be able to come to the hearing itself so she'd more than likely just be sitting around and doing a lot of waiting, so it's best if she stays here." "With the weather as dismal as it has been we've secured the fireplace in Ginny's rooms so that you can communicate via Floo." Harry didn't know when McGonagall had appeared to be more maternal that she was at the moment. He smiled and patted her on her knee. "Thank you very much. It will help a great deal to be able to talk with her." "It's the least we can do for the person who did so much for us." He frowned. "I only did what had to be done, Minerva. Anyone would have done that." She shook her head but understood his desire to change the subject. "It was good of Ollivander to come through with a new house elf." "Yes, very good of him," Harry said absently. "Tell me; is this sort of thing common around here?" She nodded. "In the past, we have received younger house-elves to assist in training them for placement in private homes. Since Dobby's

arrival, Hogwarts has taken to paying the house-elves. As a result, finding them homes in older wizarding families can be difficult. We have discovered, however, that there are more of our younger alumni that are happy to support our staff by loaning or giving us houseelves, and we pay them a living wage." "Hermione will be thrilled to bits." Harry grinned. He couldn't wait to tell her. "It's nice to see you smile, Harry," McGonagall said with a smile of her own. "I'll try to do it more often." He drained his tea cup and took a couple of lemon biscuits for the trip back to the Astronomy Tower. "I'd better be off." "Well, you let us know if you need anything," she said, that maternal smile returning once again. Harry nodded. "Thanks again for the tea; it was wonderful, as was the company. I'll be in touch soon." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Friday evening, Ginny walked back to her room and closed the door behind her. She'd felt the control she'd had over the tears start to crumble as her last students had left for the day. Now that she was safely behind closed doors she let them fall and collapsed in a heap in the arms of the overstuffed arm chair next to the fireplace. Harry had only been gone for two days yet it had felt like two years. She really wished she could have gone with him and was still a bit bent out of shape with McGonagall. Her ire had diminished a bit when the headmistress had offered to mind Ginny's charges for the evening before he'd left, giving the couple a chance to be alone together. They'd spent a quiet evening together in the Astronomy Tower, sharing dinner, their concerns and themselves until Harry had had to head to the top of the tower for class. There had been a break in the weather and he'd had to make up for several of the stargazing classes that had been scrapped earlier in the month. When he had returned they'd made love with an intensity that had frightened her at first

until she'd responded in kind. He'd left early the next morning and had promised he would contact her by Floo that evening. Their conversations were short and quite guarded; despite all efforts, the Floo Network was still monitored to a certain extent. From what she could gather, preparations were going smoothly. Despite his assurances and the security limitations placed upon them, she was certain that he'd kept some of the more dire things to himself and that, in and of itself, was enough to frustrate her to no end. Always trying to protect her. It would have chaffed more if she hadn't known that. She was in the process of drying her eyes when she heard a knock on her door. "Who is it?" "Sondi, Mistress Weasley. Sondi has your dinner, Mistress." She let out a slight groan before she got up and walked over to the door, whispering a quick Glamour Charm as she went. Dobby had taken it upon himself to introduce Sondi to Ginny her first day at the castle. During the four days that had passed since then, Ginny had encountered the new house-elf no less than nine times. Whether it was soap for the en suite or an afternoon snack in her office, Sondi was there, simpering and bowing. When she'd mentioned the house-elf's behaviour to Harry he'd only chuckled. "You've got a new friend, Gin," he'd said. Friend, Ginny thought to herself. With friends like thatShe shook her head and opened the door. Sondi stood, a saccharine smile splashed across her face. "Mistress Weasley!" she said as she bustled into the room with her tray. "Sondi brought you your supper, Mistress. Where would Mistress like to eat this evening?" "You can place it over by the fire, thank you Sondi," Ginny muttered, pressing her fingers against her left temple. In all honesty she wasn't very hungry. Since Harry's absence she had felt more comfortable taking her meals in her room. The fewer questions the better.

"Oh, does Mistress have a headache? Sondi can give Mistress one of her neck rubs" "That's quite all right, Sondi, thank you," Ginny said, cutting her off abruptly. She'd been on the receiving end of one of Sondi's neck rubs yesterday and it had frankly given her the willies. "I think I'm just a little hungry. Thank you for the tray." "Sondi is here to serve, Mistress," the house-elf simpered, executing a deep curtsey. "Sondi will return for the tray in a while, Mistress." Why on earth is it different when Dobby says thing like that, Ginny thought to herself as the little house-elf closed the door. She compared Sondi's behaviour to Winky's and immediately wished the latter elf had been the one to take such a shine to her. Ginny had run into Christopher whilst she'd been in Hogsmeade picking up supplies and had mentioned her encounters with Hogwarts' newest addition. He'd just smiled and said that Sondi must have remembered her from the time Ginny had been seeing him. "Perhaps she picked up on my moods and is trying to sway your affections back to me, Ginny," he'd said with a laugh. Ginny had searched her memory for a recollection without success. She'd had to admit that the Ollivanders had had a virtual army of house-elves at their estate in Leeds, and since she'd only been to the house on two occasions, the chances of Ginny remembering one of them was remote at best. Stillwhy did Sondi have to be such a brown-nose? Ginny nibbled on a bite of roast pork before she put her fork back down, her mind turning details over and over again. Harry had mentioned something about Sondi's behaviour as well. In the two days before he'd had to leave, Sondi had seemed to appear whenever he'd had a need for assistance, even beating out Dobby's arrival on a couple of occasions. He'd even mentioned speaking to Sirius about it; his godfather had told him he was making mountains out of molehills before he'd told his godson to consult with someone who would really know the truth: Hermione. Ginny shook her head and finished her dinner. She was about to take a sip of butterbeer when she heard a rapping on her windowpane. She opened the window to let a snow-covered owl flutter into the room. She recognized the bird immediately. "Penn, you poor little

thing!" Ginny cooed softly to Ron and Hermione's little owl. She poured some water into a cup and set it next to the bird. The owl hooted in appreciation and stuck its leg out for her to remove the letter. For the next fifteen minutes she chuckled over her mum and Hermione's efforts at wedding planning. Honestly, the amount of fluffy nonsense the two of them could prattle on about was staggering. It was exactly what Ginny needed the sweet diversion of a late-July wedding to keep her mind off her troubles. She jotted a quick response, agreeing to meet the two of them along with Hermione's daughter, Charlotte in Hogsmeade that weekend for some wedding shopping and visiting. She couldn't wait to see her goddaughter to see how much she'd grown. Once she set that letter aside, she decided she'd better attend to her other correspondence while she was waiting for Harry's call. The day Harry had left she'd received a letter from Jacinda Kramer, one of her former colleagues at St. Mungo's, about some of Sammie's notes she'd received after her murder. Thinking of her poor friend had been too much for her to cope with, and she'd shoved the letter into her desk drawer. No time like the present. She read through the letter carefully. Jacinda said that the notes were sketchy and appeared to have large portions of details missing. Ginny knew Sammie had been working with Jaime on a joint project that they'd written about very early in the summer. As she went to open her trunk a knock rang out on her door. "Come in?" Sondi the house-elf appeared. "Sondi has come for your tray, Mistress." Ginny waved her towards the fireplace, thoughts focused on the letter. "Thank you, Sondi." Ginny opened her trunk and pulled out a thick, expandable file folder with no apparent opening. She withdrew her wand and pointed it at her left index finger. "Vena punctum," she muttered, wincing as she felt a sharp prick. A drop of blood quickly welled on the pad of her fingertip and she pressed it against the front of the folder. The blood raced along an invisible line across the front of folder and, within seconds, the file was opened. Ginny tucked the file under her right arm and sucked on the tip of her injured finger for a moment before she returned to her desk. She

quickly healed the cut and started to pull several sheets of paper from the folder. She'd gone through several pages before she landed upon some information that looked promising. As she picked up her quill to start a letter, she heard a noise from the corner and startled, sending ink splattering across the clean parchment. "Please forgive Sondi, Mistress," the house-elf stammered before dropping a curtsey. "Sondi wanted to ask the Mistress if there was anything else the Mistress needed." "No, I'm fine," Ginny said with a frown. "That'll be all, Sondi." She watched as the house-elf hustled over scoop up the tray and, with one last smile and curtsey, Disapparated with a pop. She shivered a moment before noticing the window was ajar. Laughing nervously to herself she latched the window shut and returned to her desk to write. Forty minutes later, she'd sent Penn back out into the night with her two letters. Ginny walked over the hearth and picked up a photograph of Sammie and Jaime. Tears filled her eyes as she watched their happy faces smile up at her and acknowledged two of her favourite people were no longer physically with her to share in the joys that had come her way. And although she realized they would always be with her in spirit, it did nothing to clear the sense of foreboding that now crept along her bones. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Draco flipped through the portfolio and smiled. Despite his original concerns, the house-elf was turning out to be a brilliant idea, although he'd never admit as much to Flint. When he'd gone to the castle to drop off their little spy, he'd still had grave misgivings about the whole scheme - so many things could have gone wrong. He'd only remembered at the last moment to choose an elf that had joined the Malfoy household after their former servant, Dobby, had been freed. He'd even gone so far as to remind the creature of the ruse: "please remember you represent the Ollivander household and be on your best behaviour." In the end he needn't have worried: the elf was a pro. He'd been the one who could have used a reminder of who he was and what he was doing.

Mimicking Ollivander's speech patterns hadn't been enormously difficult, but Draco had discovered the one thing he did that the wandmaker hadn't: the use of drawling sarcasm that had been a trademark of his since childhood had been something he had struggled with since they'd opened the shop in Hogsmeade. When he'd first seen Harry striding towards him near McGonagall's office the hatred of all the years past had risen up in him and, for one unguarded moment, he'd spoken as himself rather than Ollivander. The slight hesitation in Potter's response had been enough to snatch Draco back from the edge of discovery. It was a mistake he would not make again anytime soon. He'd almost made himself ill congratulating Potter on his engagement. Well, if things go my way I'll have her weeping over his grave well before summer, he thought to himself. The elf's report provided detailed descriptions of staff movements and routines. It also contained intricate layouts of both Potter and Weasley's respective offices and rooms, their schedules and their meal and beverage preferences. The final page, however, was the one that had pleased Draco to his bones: the location of Weasley's private files, protected with a blood seal. He snorted. You would think that someone who'd grown up as poor as she had would have noticed a servant in their presence. How quickly the nouveau-riche forgot their peasant ways. In any event, her stupidity was his gain and he planned to act on it immediately. He picked up a piece of parchment. Obtain sample of W's blood and return to me within 24 hours. Destroy this note now. Draco folded the parchment and a small vial into a pouch before closing the portfolio with a snap. "Flint, get in here," he shouted. Flint entered, a sheen of sweat clearly noticeable on his brow. "The elf has provided us with excellent intelligence. Please have this delivered to her within the hour." "Yes, Draco," Flint said, slipping the pouch into his pocket. "We've also received word from London about Potter."

"And?" Draco snapped impatiently. The one bad piece of news the elf's report had revealed was that Potter had left the castle two days after Draco had seen him for points unknown. He'd had scouts out searching for information ever since. It revealed that Potter had left the castle on Wednesday for points unknown. "Potter's in London, meeting with a solicitor." That got Draco's attention. "How do you know this?" "He was seen walking into the Old Buildings near Lincoln Inn. Number 23. Bloke's name is Stapleton." Draco steepled his fingers as his blond brows snapped together into a frown. "What could be so important that Potter would leave the school in the middle of the week?" "No idea, sir," Flint said with a shrug. "Well, then get to work and find out!" ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Monday morning dawned clear and cold in London. Harry stood in front of the sink in Ron and Hermione's home. Hermione had insisted that he stay with them rather than in the hotel he'd booked. "You need a bit of home and comfort, Harry. Besides you need to spend some time with your goddaughter!" She'd been right, of course. While his days were filled with stress and painful memories, his evenings had been playful and more revealing than he would have realized. He'd had the chance to see Ron and Hermione as a married couple, to experience the tantrums and hilarity of a pre-schooler, and the awesome responsibility of a sleeping infant, wholly dependant upon him for her every need. The only thing that had been missing was Ginny, and he'd felt her absence with an intensity that was almost a living thing. Their evening talks had only made him want and need her all the more. The impending trial had strained them both, and he could see it etched into the lines of her body and the sadness in her eyes. It all made him wish that the

weekend would just speed past so that he could get the whole damn thing over with. Now he had his wish: the hearing was scheduled to start in two hours. He stared into the mirror and didn't like what he saw. Dark circles under his eyes, fear edging their corners. He had to get a grip on himself before he arrived. Stapleton had coached him over and over again. "Self-defenseself-defense." "Stop yer worryin', laddie!" the mirror boomed. "Bloody hell!" Harry jumped a foot, sending his shaving kit all over the floor. It was the third time that stupid mirror had scared him senseless. Ron had said he was prepared to deal with the seven year's bad luck if it meant some peace and quiet in the mornings. He waved his hand to collect his things before tightening the belt on his dressing gown. "You're a menace, you are." "Bah, yew just dinna like surprises, lad. CONSTANT VIGILANCE!" Harry goggled. "You're not related to Moody, are you?" "No, but I've heard the other laddie bellow the phrase a time or two. Nice ring to it, eh?" Harry blinked hard and shook his head. Note to self: buy Muggle mirrors from now on. After running his comb through his damp, unruly mop of hair he opened the door. And promptly tripped over Matthew. "Ouch, Uncle Harry!!" This time his shaving kit bounced down the stairs and out of sight. Harry bent down and scooped up his "nephew." "Sorry about that, Matty, but you should know better than to stand in a doorway like that." "I'm sorry," Matthew said, rubbing his eyes. "I have to go to the loo." Harry promptly put the boy back down and got out of his way. The door slammed shut. He waved his hand towards the staircase. "Accio

shaving kit," he said, watching it sail back up the stairs and into his hand before heading towards his room to get dressed. He'd purchased fairly conservative Wizards robes for the hearing and had left them at Stapleton's office. He had a feeling that after the day was done he'd be glad to change back into his Muggle clothing for the trip back to the Weasleys' leaving the unpleasantness behind him. As he entered the kitchen, he found Hermione sitting in the window seat, nursing Charlotte. The sight no longer filled him with embarrassment, but instead made him feel even more at home and with those he loved. Dammit, I hate it when she's right. "Good morning, 'Mione." "Morning, Harry," she said with a slight yawn. "I've got coffee and your porridge under the warming spell next to the sink." "Cheers," he said with a smile. He'd fast become a fan of her steel-cut oats with dried cranberries and apricots. He'd already decided to have Dobby figure out the recipe to include it at breakfast if he returned to the castle. He stopped himself, feeling what little happiness he'd gleaned from seeing his best friend and his godchild together slip steadily away. When I return to the castle, he thought to himself. He picked up his mug and bowl and sat at the kitchen table. She gave him a look. "You doing okay, Harry?" He jerked a shoulder and swallowed. "I'll survive. To be honest, I'm glad it's finally starting." "I only wish we could go with you, Harry," Hermione said, shifting Charlotte over her shoulder and rubbing her back. "Ron's been called away, otherwise I know he'd be right by your side, even if he were only allowed to wait outside the hearing chambers." Harry frowned. "Not another homicide." "Second one in less than 72 hours," Hermione sighed. "This time in Leeds. He'll be gone until tomorrow. As for me, I'd be there with you as well"

"We've been over this before, Hermione," Harry said, rubbing his temples. "As much as I'd like you to be there, Stapleton wants us to avoid even the possibility of anyone thinking there's Ministry favouritism influencing the decision." She frowned. "Do you honestly think that would happen?" "What do you think, Hermione? I know you've mapped out the possibilities in that scary-bright brain of yours." Her frown deepened and he knew he was right. Score one for Potter! He finished his breakfast in silence, then put his dishes into the sink. She flicked her wand at the taps and the sink filled with water before he could pick up the sponge. "Don't worry about the dishes," she murmured as she tucked Charlotte in her bouncer and walked over to give him a squeeze. "Just call me when you get finished and I'll start dinner. Maybe rent some Muggle movies to watch?" Harry nodded absently before returning her hug. "Thanks, Mum." She gave him an elbow in the side as he walked out to the entryway. Matthew bounded around the corner dressed in a pair of shorts and the little Gryffindor t-shirt Harry had given him upon his arrival . Hermione snared him as he made to dash into the kitchen. "Back upstairs and into your jeans, young man." Harry chuckled as she waggled her eyebrows over her now-pouting son's head and, wrapping his scarf around his neck, left for Stapleton's office. Thirty minutes later, Harry found himself in front of the fire in Stapleton's office, reviewing their prep manual one last time. He'd changed from his jumper and jeans into the same charcoal-grey suit he'd worn to Charlotte's christening. The fabric for his new robes were the same colour and weight at the suit. "So," Stapleton said before draining his tea cup, "any last questions? If he only knew how fatalistic that sounded, Harry thought to himself, his mood as dark as his clothing. "No. Let's go."

Moments later, the two men were gone, the green flames of the fire flickering to nothingness. ~~~~~~~~~~ CORONER'S INQUEST REPORT SUMMARY CASE # 08-425-MAL WRONGFUL DEATHS OF NARCISSA AND LUCIUS MALFOY NUMBER 137 AND 138 OF 1998 HEARING DATE: 28-30 JANUARY 2008 The hearing was brought to order at 0930. Present for testimony as follows: Prosecutor, Wizengamot: Benjamin Eldridge Witnesses: Kingsley Shacklebolt, Detective Major, Magical Law Enforcement Squad Defence Counsel: C. Basil. Stapleton Defendant: Harry James Potter Witnesses: Newt Scamander ELDRIDGE presented opening statements, including the Bill of Indictment presented to the Grand Jury for consideration: That the defendant, HARRY JAMES POTTER, did willingly and unlawfully enter the private residence of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, residents of Malfoy Manor, Nottingham, on 14 June 1998, in Nottingham; That the defendant, HARRY JAMES POTTER, did willingly, with malice and aforethought, commit murder of Narcissa Malfoy, a person, on 14 June 1998, in Nottingham; That the defendant, HARRY JAMES POTTER, did willingly, with malice and aforethought, commit murder of Lucius Malfoy, a person, on 14 June 1998, in Nottingham. Documentation submitted supporting charges: Investigation report, Kingsley Shacklebolt, Detective of Record Letter from Harry James Potter to Ronald Bilius Weasley, 15 October 2007

Coroner's report, MALFOY, Narcissa, #137 Coroner's report, MALFOY, Lucius, #138 I. INVESTIGATION REPORT: The bodies of Mr and Mrs Malfoy were discovered in the living room of Malfoy Manor by a house-elf at 0300 14 June 1998. The home showed no signs of forced entry, although several of the house-elves reported being Stunned by an unidentified male. Described as being around six feet tall, lean but well-proportioned, in his late teens, black hair, glasses. The investigators found clear evidence of an altercation. Also found on scene was the body of a large snake. Interviews with staff and an inventory of the household showed no items missing from the residence. II. SYNOPSIS OF CORRESPONDENCE HARRY JAMES POTTER TO RONALD BILIUS WEASLEY, 15 OCTOBER 2007: Submitted into evidence a letter, dated 15 October 2007 from the defendant to Ronald Bilius Weasley of Notting Hill, London. The defendant and Mr Weasley have been friends since their early days at Hogwarts. This letter, detailing the events of 14 June 1998, was turned into the Magical Law Enforcement Squad 10 November 2007 and submitted to Chief Prosecutor Frederick Allen's office for investigation. Handwriting samples matched those belonging to the defendant. III. CORONER REPORTS, MALFOY, NARCISSA #137 AND MALFOY, LUCIUS #138: Manner and cause of death Cause of death for MRS MALFOY: Poisoning. Supporting Evidence: Mrs Malfoy was found surrounded by a large pool of blood, later determined to be her own. Two large puncture wounds were discovered in her carotid artery. At autopsy, blood analysis revealed massive exposure to Hybach venom. Death was virtually instantaneous. Cause of Death for MR MALFOY: Killing Curse (Avada Kedavra). Supporting Evidence: Mr Malfoy appeared normal aside from the bruising found in his face, ribs and knuckles. Injuries appear to be pre-mortem, immediately preceding death. Eyes found wide open.

Shape of human hands found singed into decedent's chest. Autopsy revealed no natural cause of death. IV. DEFENCE EVIDENCE: Transcript of Harry James Potter, Pensieve, 30 November 2007 Transcript of Samuel OLLIVANDER, 24 January 2008 Wands belonging to Decedents L Malfoy and N Malfoy Wand belonging to Defendant H. Potter Testimony from Newt SCAMANDER Pensieve report details events of 14 June 1998. Information is identical to detail submitted in letter from Potter to Weasley. Testimony of SCAMANDER verified snake found at the scene to be a Hybach, Class II restricted creature, illegal to breed and maintain. Sworn testimony of Defendant: admits unlawful entry of home in search of Nagini, legendary snake companion to Lord Voldemort. Purpose was to eliminate snake to weaken Voldemort prior to last battle. Encountered decedent L. Malfoy in living room of manor. Wizarding duel commenced, decedent N. Malfoy entered room. Decedent N. Malfoy was caught by Stupifying Spell and fell into the path of the snake which struck her down. Decedent L Malfoy cast Killing Curse on snake and physically attacked defendant. Defendant placed hands against decedent L. Malfoy's chest in effort to disengage attack. Thought of the Killing Curse and hands transmitted curse to decedent L. Malfoy. Testimony from OLLIVANDER outlined all spells conducted with the defendant's wand from 1 June 1998 to 24 January 2008 using "Priori Incantato." Two Stupifying Spells have been conducted with this wand during the time in question: 12 June 1998, 14 June 1998, 15 June 1998. Date of the first spell coincides with capture of PETTIGREW, Peter. Second spell was cast at decedent N. Malfoy. Other spells used 14 June 1998 include: (3) Blasting Curses; two (2) Disarming Spells; four (4) Impediment Curses; six (6) Shield Charms Wands of decedents subjected to Priori Incantato for 14 June 1998. Decedent N. Malfoy cast two (2) Stinging Hexes; two (1) Blasting Curses.

Decedent L. Malfoy cast the following spells: three (3) Killing Curses; two (2) Blasting Curses; one (1) Cruciatus Curse; one (1) Disarming Spell; four (4) Bludgeoning Curses CONCLUSIONS: After lengthy consideration, the Coroner does not recommend the Full Bill to Grand Jury be considered for indictment. Mr. Malfoy was in possession of an illegal creature. Mr Potter's presence in the home may have brought Mrs Malfoy and the snake into close proximity; however he was not responsible for the snake's attack upon her. The owner of the illegal animal, in this case Mr Malfoy, is the responsible party. It is further determined that, based on the testimony given by Detective Major Shacklebolt, the testimony given by Messrs. Ollivander and Scamander, and the defendant's sworn Pensieve testimony, that the defendant was acting in self-defence. FINDINGS: Mrs Narcissa Malfoy accidental death Mr Lucius Malfoy self defence RECOMMENDATION: That the Bill of Indictment against Harry James Potter be declined for prosecution to the Grand Jury. Scheduled for review and presentation to the Grand Jury 31 January 2008 Warren Van Pelt Deputy Coroner, Ministry of Magic Nottingham Division, United Kingdom

GRAND JURY FINDINGS OF FACT -- CASE # 08-425-MAL WRONGFUL DEATHS OF NARCISSA AND LUCIUS MALFOY NUMBER 137 AND 138 OF 1998 HEARING DATE: 31 JANUARY 2008 Affixing our signatures to the report below, we, the members of the grand jury, adopt the findings of fact and conclusions of law proposed by the Coroner's legal advisor. In addition we find as follows:

The death of Narcissa Malfoy was a negligent homicide in which she met her death by the means of an illegal (Class II) magical animal, a Hybach known as Nagini. The proximate cause of this death was the keeping and harbouring of this Hybach on the premises of their estate by her husband, Lucius Malfoy, and a reckless incitement by Mr. Malfoy of said Hybach. While the actions of Mr. Potter contributed to the circumstances surrounding Mrs. Malfoy's death, they were not the proximate cause of that death. The death of Lucius Malfoy is one of justifiable homicide in which Mr. Malfoy was killed by a heretofore unknown wandless variant of the Killing Curse cast by Mr. Potter while Mr. Malfoy was attempting to harm Mr. Potter. We find that Mr. Potter was lawfully on the premises of Malfoy Manor, having been authorized by an Officer of the Wizengamot to destroy an unlawful (Class II) magical animal, namely a Hybach known as Nagini. Mr. Malfoy's attack on the person of Mr. Potter caused him to reasonably believe that his life was in danger, and the law of this realm authorized him to defend himself with deadly force. We further note that the variant of the Killing Curse used by Mr. Potter was previously unknown, and hence, not described by the Unforgivable Statutes. As the curse was not properly described by the Unforgivable Statute, no prosecution may be made for the casting of the wandless curse. While a reasonable jury could weigh between justifiable homicide and negligent homicide under the facts developed in this inquest, we further find that the statute of limitations has passed for any prosecution on a theory based upon negligent homicide. Accordingly, we, the Grand Jury assembled in this case decline to return a true bill on any charge and ask that this Grand Jury be dismissed. Given the nature of the testimony in this case, the Grand Jury recommends sealing the records of this case for 150 years, or until such time as the Wizengamot deems proper. Signed Celeste Quigly Burrows Foreperson, Wizengamot Grand Jury ~~~~~~~~~~ "I'm free."

Stunned. There was no other word for it, Ginny thought to herself as she scanned the report one more time. He was free. FREE! She looked at Harry, still gobsmacked with shock. Then his eyes had met hers, and it was as if a curtain had been lifted from view. Relief the likes of which she'd never seen shone from his face and she flung herself into his arms, tears of joy streaming from her eyes. He'd barely spoken about the hearing itself, but had returned to Hogwarts looking as he had the night he'd gone to Malfoy Manor: pale, defeated. She'd held him all through the night and they'd spent a fairly secluded weekend. Then, Monday afternoon, he'd received the report via certified messenger just before curfew. He'd shown up in her rooms, white-face and speechless, and she'd been certain he'd received the worst: indictment. He'd tried to wave her off abruptly. "Ginny, I have to read this by myself." "No, Harry," she'd said, determined. "I sat here at school, scared to death for you every night, listening to you not tell me what was going on. I put up with it because that's how you needed it to be, and because I couldn't come through that fire and throttle you senseless. Now that we've got the results, we're going to do this together, whether you like it or not." He'd stared at her for a moment, and she'd been happy to see the fear that had haunted his eyes had been replaced by a flicker of humour. "I should have known better than to think you'd let me get away with that." Now, just a few short moments later, she was swept into a savage kiss. The need for closeness, for validation of the chance Fate had brought their way lanced through her and she eagerly responded. He tore at the pins in her hair, sending the heavy mass cascading down her shoulders. They made love fiercely, joyfully, as if they were celebrating life itself because, in all truth, they were doing just that. Thirty minutes later they lay on the floor nearest the fireplace, amidst the carnage of torn clothing and near-hysterical giggling. She would bear bruises tomorrow, but she would wear them proudly and remember the sheer joy that freedom had brought them both.

"I can't believe it," Harry said, still slightly winded. "I swear, I feel as if I've had an elephant lifted off my chest!" "I'm not that heavy," Ginny quipped, poking him in the ribs. He arched a brow at her and poked her back, which resulted in a tickle fight. In the end, he conceded defeat before smiling and tracing his finger along her nose. "Minx." Her toes curled with pleasure. "I love you, Harry." He wrapped his arms around her and gave her a near-crushing hug. "I love you too, Ginny." He stood up from the ground, scooping her up as he rose. She looked down at the garments littering the floor and snorted. "We're a pair, aren't we?" He nodded, his eyes filled with laughter and love. "And we've got a lifetime ahead of us to celebrate." Ginny's eyes darkened. "No time like the present." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Name: Stapleton, C. Basil Age: 67 Occupation: Criminal Defence Counsel Employees: Bazelem, Rachel secretary Education: Hogwarts, Cambridge, Exeter Personal: Married, no children; residence in Kew Gardens district of London Draco tossed the report onto his bed, confusion and frustration creating a jumble in his brain. Why would Potter need a criminal defence solicitor? Was it possible that he'd done some dark deed while he was away at Oxford that had finally caught up with him? Draco found that thought to be quite pleasant nothing like a little suffering to make Potter's eventual downfall that much more enjoyable.

His pleasant thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door. "What is it, Botch?" Blaise Zabini stuck his head through the doorway. "I got your note, Draco." It had been a while since Draco had indulged himself with Blaise's company. He felt his blood thrum deep in his veins. "Did you have any trouble getting away tonight?" "No more than usual," Blaise said. Draco left the bed and walked over, sliding his arm around Blaise's waist. He felt his lover tense and frowned. "What seems to be the problem, Blaise?" "There's news I thought you should hear from me, Draco," Blaise said quickly, walking over to the bar near the fireplace and pouring himself a shot of Firewhisky. "There was a hearing this week at the Wizengamot." Something in Blaise's voice made Draco pause. "I'm certain there are hearings at the Wizengamot on a daily basis, Blaise. What makes this one so particularly noteworthy?" "It was a closed hearing, in the secure hearing room. Top level security and only staff with Alpha clearance were allowed to have anything to do with it." He paused, taking another drink. "They haven't had that level of lock-down since the war trials." Blaise's family had stayed in the neutral camp during the war. After the war crime trials were over, they were one of the few families who had remained in good standing with the Ministry. While Blaise's position within the Ministry was that of a junior clerk in the Department of Magical Games and Sports, Draco had always hoped it could turn into a possible way back in for information. It had seemed remote at the time, but if what Blaise was saying was true, it seemed security at the Ministry had begun to slacken once again. Pieces of information started to fall into place, like the tumblers of a lock: Potter in London, consulting with a criminal defence solicitor

and now this? Draco tightened his grip on his lover's forearm. His voice was arctic. "What have you heard, Blaise and more importantly from whom did you hear this news?" Blaise winced; their play often included elements of pain, but there was nothing playful about this. "I-I heard it from my sister's fianche works inthe chief prosecutor's office" Wouldn't Weasley love to know that their security had fallen apart at the seams? "Your sister's fianc works in the chief prosecutor's office? How very interesting, Blaise." The grip on Blaise's arm tightened even more and Draco could feel his nails pierce into his lover's skin. "What did he say?" "Only that old files had been pulled by the Chief Prosecutor's office, including the coroner reports for the end days of the war!" Blaise cried out. Draco shoved his lover onto the bed, leaning over him. "I'll have a copy of the trial transcripts, Blaise." "Didn't you hear what I said? Alpha clearance only, Draco. I don't have it and you know that!" "But your sister's fianc can." Draco smiled as he watched fear crystallize in Blaise's eyes. "You must realize, after all the time we've spent together Blaise, all the things I'm capable of doing to him. And your sister, now that I think about it." He paused, relishing the images that coursed through his mind. "Your sister's always been a bit of a prude, isn't that correct? I remember hearing Flint say she was saving herself for marriage. I do wonder if she's managed tohang onto that maidenhead of hers. It's been a while since I've had a virgin, pet." A shiver of pleasure coursed down his spine and pooled in his groin as he felt his lover tremble against him, tears forming in his dark brown eyes. "And of course her fianche can't go unscathed either, no doubt about that." He closed his eyes for a moment, an almost-overwhelming feeling of power surging through his veins. "What a lovely ideatake one while the other watches. You, my sweet Blaise, would be invited to wat" "STOP! Please stop!" Blaise begged. "What do you want me to do?"

Draco smiled, releasing his vice-like grip from Blaise's arm, reaching around to grasp the hair at the nape of his neck. "I want something worthwhile on my desk in 72 hours. Or your sister and her fianc will be on my desk in 73." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

22: Decisions Blaise walked into his flat and locked the door. He stared into the mirror on the wall beside him, feeling sicker and more scared than hed ever felt in his life. Hed always known that Draco was a sadist it was one of the things that hed loved about him. Hed thrilled to the power and command hed heard in his lovers voice and had responded to the control he had exerted over him for years. But, in Blaises mind, it had always been a game; role play. Not now. Twenty minutes ago, that power and control had slithered across his skin and he hadnt felt the slightest bit of excitement. Only dread. Because he knew that Draco would follow through on the threats hed made; there was no doubt in his mind about that. Blaise had seen that conviction shimmering in Dracos cold, steel-gray eyes. He paced nervously in front of his fireplace, trying to sort out how he could get the information and keep his family safe. The Zabinis had maintained property in Brazil for generations. Once hed got the information, hed send Maria and her fianc Bernard there for safe-keeping. Hed follow as soon as he could safely leave Britain. Funny, Blaise thought to himself, Maria always said my obsession with Draco would be the death of me. He threw some Floo powder into the fireplace and watched the green flames come alive. Bernard Comstock! He swallowed the bile that rose in his throat as the flames spun and twisted until he was staring into his future brother-in-laws living room. Several moments passed before a tall, muscular man entered the room, rubbing his eyes and frowning. Blaise? Bernard rasped, his voice sleepchoked and reedy. Its two in the morning, man! Whats wrong? Is Maria all right?

Marias fine, for now, Blaise said hurriedly, noting the change in Bernards stance the minute hed mentioned his sisters welfare: alert, defensive. All qualities theyd need if they were to survive this. Weve got a serious problem, Bernard. I need you to just sit there and listen to me. No interruptions, okay? Get talking, Bernard snapped. Ten minutes later, Blaise was certain Bernard would step through the flames into his own home and beat him senseless, the fury was that palpable. How COULD you do this to us, Blaise? Oh, I know how its because youre incapable of thinking without using your prick, thats why. Maria always said your sick obsession with that man would be your downfall, and now here we are, all of us in danger because of it! Blaise shook his head. Hed said the words himself only moments ago. At least they could all agree on that. Listen, I know Ive got us all in trouble, but if we just give him what he wants we can get out of town and survive! Why the hell shouldnt the two of us just leave you here to suffer the consequences, Blaise? All that beating and whippingits what you like, isnt it, you hedonistic, masochistic idio because he wont just kill me; he will hunt you down like animals, Bernard. He will track you both down and you dont want to know yes I do, damn it! We have a right to know! ALL RIGHT, THEN! Blaise screamed. He pulled his head from the flames and opened the portfolio he had by his side. He extracted some photos, returned to the fireplace and threw the wizarding photos onto the floor in front of Bernards feet. He watched as horror flickered through his sisters fiancs eyes. Images of torture, murder and savagery flashed in his hands. Do you get it now? Dont you realize hes the one who has been behind all of these killings these past several months? Why didnt you report him to the MLES, Blaise?! Bernard bellowed. You have all of this evidence! Because Draco would have known where the pictures had come from and killed me, you idiot, Blaise wheezed, barely choking back a sob. They were just Mudbloods and sympathizers to me and if keeping quiet about it

would keep me alive I could live with it. But now? Now that me and mine have been threatened? Theyre still human beings, Blaise. He looked at Bernard, whose face now reflected revulsion, and his fear increased. He had to get him to understand. Look at me! He stripped away his shirt and showed Bernard the bruises and scars hed received. These are nothing compared to what he has in store for you if I should fail him. Raped, tortured by who knows how many people and for how long! And Im not talking about just Maria, Bernard you would be subject to the same as well! Thats what will happen if we dont give him the information. And, in the end, if were lucky, he might kill us. But if were not, hell lock us up in his dungeons and drag us all out again for his own amusement! Whenever the hell he feels like it. The sick bastards capable of anything, Bernard, anything. Bernard was shaking. His knees gave out, and he fell to the floor, his face white with fear, his eyes glassy with it. Oh, God. Blaise felt tears fill his eyes. He didnt bother to try to hide them. Judge me for being weak and stupid, but the situation is very real and we need to do something to save Maria. We can sit here and debate this from now until the deadline is done or we can sort out what we can do to get us out of this alive! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Harry tipped his glasses onto his forehead and rubbed his eyes. Ron, you're out of your mind, he thought to himself before returning the glasses to his nose and scowling at the letter once more. "...Fred and George have got it planned and have promised a great time. Nothing tawdry, mate, but loads of fun. Bill's coming in and Percy's lined up a minder so that both he and Penny are free, since Hermione's planning the hen party for the same night..." Spending an evening getting pissed with the twins? These were the same men whod ambushed him with Scabies Snow a few months before. What level of hell could they have in store for him at a stag party?

Eloping was sounding better and better. Regardless of his reticence to partake in potentially dangerous pre-wedding festivities with the twins, he could readily admit that he had no hesitations about the actually marrying part of the equation. With each passing day, hed felt more certain of his decision to spend the rest of his life with Ginny and was convinced she felt the same way, although recent correspondence with her mother had made both of them a little nervous. Despite their request for a quiet ceremony, the sheer volume of suggestions, swatches and samples of wedding frippery was alarming and was showing no signs of slowing down: Ive made arrangements to have Celestina Warbeck sing at the reception. It will be lovely she travels with a fifteen-piece orchestra, so I was thinking wed insist on formal dress robes for the guests. Ginny, dear, Im enclosing several proposals weve received from designers who have offered to make your dress. While your father and I have said that money is no object you are our only little girl all of the proposals have stated they are willing to work for nothing more than the publicity of the Ministers daughter wearing one of their designs. Please take a look at them and select the top three; Ill contact them for interviews during your Easter break. You will be able to get away at Easter, wont you? Oh, if you cant Im certain we can have them meet us at the castle. Just let me know as soon as possible. Times wasting, dear! The look Ginny had given him was enough to make him his palms sweat. And not in a good way. He rose from his chair and looked at the clock: after midnight. He walked over to the ensuite and changed for bed. Moments later, he was scrubbing his teeth and waging a mental debate with himself. We cant elope Why the hell not? Well, for starters, Ginnys parents would kill us! You could have a reception later in the summer, with all the bells and whistles.

But Ginny wants the whole wedding thing, doesnt she? Has she actually said that to you? Well, no. And the hearing is over, so you dont have that hanging over your head anymore. True And youre thoroughly sick of sneaking around the castle to spend time together. That IS definitely true So, what are you waiting for? He stopped, mid-brush, watching foamy toothpaste snake down his chin. What are we waiting for? He did some mental calculations: there was a Hogsmeade weekend coming up right after Valentines Day. Even though it would be completely clich to do it then, it was a day when the two of them can get some time away from the castle for the ceremony. He quickly spat out the rest of the toothpaste, cupped his hands for a drink of water then patted them dry on his pyjama bottoms and stalked out into his bedroom. He grabbed some Floo powder and shouted out his godfathers name. Potter, why is it every time you call me its the bloody middle of the night? Sirius growled into the fireplace. Sirius, I had a brainwave Im really happy for you, he snapped, wincing as soon as the words had left his mouth. Sorry about that, Harry. Had a retirement celebration for one of the lads at the office, and I think I had a bit too much to drink. Not as young as you used to be, eh, Sirius? Sirius raised an eyebrow and glared. I can still drink you under the table, Potter. As well find out at your stag party! Ron gave me all the detai

about that, Sirius, Harry said, waving his hand, Im going to ask Ginny to elope. WHAT?! Sirius bellowed. Both men grabbed their respective heads as the reverberations died down in the fireplace. This is your so-called brainwave? Are you out of your mind? Come on, Sirius, Harry said, his shoulders hunching forward. I mean it! You do this, and there will be hell to pay with Molly! You know how much shes looking forward to the wedding! Ginnys their only daughter dont you think Ive walked myself through all of those concerns, Sirius? The fact of the matter is this thing has blown so far outside of the scope of anything either of us wanted, and no one is listening to us any longer! I wanted to wait until after the hearing, and weve done that. He sighed heavily. I just want to be with her, without sneaking around. We were apart for so many years, Im just sick of waiting. Harry thought he detected some signs of softening in his godfathers gray eyes. You would have to tell Molly and Arthur, Harry. You owe them that much. Absolutely. I want the family, you and Remus there. Dont get me wrong I want to share this with all of you. Just on a scale thats of our choosing. Sirius was silent for a moment before nodding. Ill do what I can to find out what needs to be done to prepare for something like this. You do whats right and talk this over with Molly and Arthur, Harry. They may be disappointed that they wont have the big society wedding theyre plotting actually, I think Arthur is cringing over some of the details as well and Ill see what I can do. I still think youre crazy to go up against Mollys temper. Not many have survived that, you realize. Harry chuckled nervously. Believe me, I think a part of me knows Im crazy to do it. But I have to.

Sirius nodded. Somehow I just didnt see you all gussied up, standing in the middle of the Great Hall at the ministry with Celestina Warbeck warbling A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love. Now, go to sleep, Potter! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Later that same day, hundreds of miles away, Bernard Comstock walked through the main lobby of the Ministry of Magic. He was impeccably dressed and groomed, as was fitting for a person of his position. Hed worked hard to become one of the youngest prosecutors in the Wizengamot and the thought that he would have to give it all up because of his future brother-in-laws idiocy made him queasy with anger and fear. No one would know to look at him, but Bernard hadnt slept a wink since learning the news. Fear for Maria had taken up residence at the forefront of his mind and images of her tortured and abused body had turned his stomach into a minefield thanks to Blaise and his thrice-damned photographs. Bernard had already decided that once theyd reached the safety of the familys estate in Brazil he would take Blaise out into the jungle and leave him at the mercy of the animals, even if Maria protested. Hed spent most of the last two hours a long lunch, hed claimed to his boss following up on the leads hed dug up throughout the night. He tucked his hand into the hidden pocket of his robes and found the small Muggle digital camera hed purchased. The man at the shop had given him brief instructions on how to use the thing, but Bernard figured hed need to practice a bit before he attempted to obtain the files. Hed overheard, upon his arrival, that the files from the hearing had gone down to archives a few days before, and they were scheduled to go into deep storage that evening at midnight. He only hoped he would be able to lie well enough to get away with it. He spent the next several hours shuffling papers and sending memos anything to make it seem as though he was working. By the time five oclock rolled around, his co-workers started to file out, wishing him a good evening. His stomach jumped with anxiety as the last person filed out. He waited for another thirty minutes just in case any one had forgotten something and returned. He swallowed, and the sound of it echoed in his brain. Time to move.

He straightened his robes, picked up a stack of files and headed towards the back of the offices. He entered in the pass code to the archives room and left his wand in the receptacle next to the door. Despite his fear, Bernard couldnt help but smile ruefully: wands were not allowed, and the room was alarmed to detect any that crossed the threshold. Muggle items, however, would not trip the alarm. Prior to the night before, hed always felt the omission to be incidental. Thank Merlin for it now. The door swung open, and he stepped through. Many people were amazed when they entered the Ministry for the first time, seeing the soaring ceilings, the gold runes dancing across the painted surface and the fountain, majestic and awe-inspiring. To Bernards mind, the atrium of the Ministry couldnt hold a candle to the archives. The walls were made of an ancient golden marble, glowing under the gentle (and well-regulated) lights. To keep the integrity of the materials held within its walls, the archive was climatecontrolled and windowless, eliminating any unwanted ultraviolet rays. Instead, magnificent pieces of artwork and tapestries lined the walls (each within its own climate-sensitive, transparent case). Rows and rows of pristine black file cabinets, meticulously numbered and maintained by a staff of individuals whod almost had a religious fervour over their vocation. A short, plump man approached him, his bald head gleaming under the gaslight and his round glasses perched on the end of his nose. The supervisor, Bernard thought to himself and proceeded to wrack his brain to remember the mans nameyes, it was Perkins. Good evening, Perkins. Good evening, Mr. Comstock, Perkins said with a slightly nasal voice that bespoke his Australian roots. What brings you to the archives this evening? Oh, Im doing a final bit of research on a case for Eldridge, Bernard said, waving his hand in what he hoped was a casual way. The file came down a few days ago. Perkins frowned. Well, the only files that came down are the ones here at my desk. He motioned to a stack of bright red folders. Bernard noticed the large, ornate seal of the ministry sitting next to them along with a series of candles: one red, one green and one black. A file once sealed with black wax was never to be opened again. He thanked his luck that Perkins

hadnt managed to get to it yet. You need to have Alpha clearance to access the material. Bernard was prepared for this question and, juggling his stack of files onto his hip, reached into the pocket of his robes and pulled out his certification. Excellent, Perkins grinned, picked up the red files and placed them into his hands. You can use that table over there if you like. Please let me know if theres anything you need. Thank you, Perkins, Bernard said airily and walked over to the table. One hour went by; then two. Hed located the file Grand Jury Findings Of Fact -- CASE # 08-425-MAL, dated 31/1/08 and had it set aside, ready to go through as soon as hed had some privacy. Bernard was about to give up hope until another person came into the archive and diverted Perkins attention. He waited until he heard their voices heading down one of the corridors before he opened the file. He read through the material, feeling more and more certain that he would throw up as the true nature of the hearing was revealed. He fumbled for the hidden pocket of his robes, removed the camera and started to take pictures. As he snapped the last photo, he felt his bowels twist in his gut. He knew that anything he possibly imagined that Malfoy could do to them was nothing compared to what he would do to Potter and those he loved. ~~~~~~~~~~~ That same evening, back at Hogwarts Castle, Ginny folded up the last letter shed received from her mother and groaned. Celestina Warbeck? Fifteenpiece band? Whatever happened to a quiet ceremony in the orchard, with close friends and family? She realized that, because of her fathers standing, they would have to put up with some of the society garbage that went along with being The Ministers Daughter, but shed thought it would be limited to submitting photographs to the paper or something. Then there were the dress proposals. Several glossy portfolios lay scattered on her bed, each one more elaborate than the last. Harry had high-tailed it out of her office the minute shed un-wrapped the packets. Dont want any bad luck! Ill just be leaving!

Coward. Despite having the most popular designers of wizarding couture eager to work with her, Ginny had failed to find any of them remotely interesting. Shed said as much in her response just the other day. And now she held her mothers response, sitting quietly in front of her. Maybe I shouldnt have asked her whose wedding she was trying to plan, hers or mine? Ginny thought to herself. Well, one thing was for certain: at least her mother hadnt sent her a Howler: Ginny dear. I received your last letter and will chalk up your comment regarding whose wedding were planning to nerves. Im certain we can agree on many of the details the weekend after next. Ill be in Hogsmeade, and we can meet for lunch. You must understand that its not only because of who you are but because of who you are marrying, dear. Harry was the hero of the War of Light and Dark and his recent return to our world after such a long absence has created a firestorm of interest: who he is, where hes been and, more importantly, what hes doing now. Now, I could care less about his fame hes our Harry but if we dont give the public SOMEthing they will, more than likely, try to take it anyway. That means paparazzi swarming around the Burrow, trying to get photographs of you during your honeymoonwho knows what else! Ginny swallowed. She had a point. And the prospect of a herd of photographers trying to get pictures on their honeymoon? What a nightmare! Her mother went on to talk about some of the ridiculous articles that had filled the gossip magazines since Harrys return. Ginny skimmed through the rest of the letter, her mind racing and her heart in her throat. Shed been angry at how far things had got, but now with the prospect of having to dodge cameras and reporters? God, why on earth hadnt she gone along with Harrys idea to elope back at Christmas? Well, you were waiting for the hearing to be finished, she reminded herself. Just as suddenly, she had a brainwave: the hearing was over. What on earth were they waiting for?

Ginny danced a little jig and ran over to the bed, taking the portfolios and chucking them into a waste bin. From his perch on the chair near the window, Periwinkle opened one gleaming golden eye and blinked lazily at her before rolling over onto his back in an undignified splay. She reached down and gave him a belly-scratch, listening to his purr rumble out of his throat. A glance at the clock and a few quick calculations later, she figured Harry would be at the pitch. She ran over to the wardrobe, pulled out her cloak and boots. She was in the process of shoving her feet into the boots when a knock rang out on her door. Harry! she cried, jumping into his arms. He was a bit muddy from practice, but shed found that the dishevelled look suited him very well these days. Youre just the person I wanted to see! Harrys chuckle warmed her clear down to her toes. Hello, minx. He gave her a leisurely kiss, which made those same toes curl inside her untied boots. She would have been lost in the kiss if she hadnt heard the giggle from the Fat Ladys portrait. Ginny disentangled herself from his arms and blushed scarlet before grabbing Harrys hand and dragging him into her rooms. I was just coming to see you. I can see that, he said, his smile looking very Cheshire Cattish indeed. Ive been trying to get you alone all day, but our schedules arent cooperating. He leaned in for another kiss, but Ginny darted past him. Harry, I got another letter from Mum. He paused, a look of worry crossing his features. Gin, you didnt send her that response you wrote a few days ago, did you? The one where you asked her whose wedding she was trying to plan? Yes, Ginny grumbled. I had to, Harry! I was sick and tired of listening to her blithering on and on about The Social Event of the Year! I know, Gin, Harry murmured, walking up behind her and wrapping her in his arms before settling a kiss against the side of her neck. Ron just sent me a letter with more details about the stag party and, to be honest, the prospect of spending an evening with the twins is more terrifying than that hollow full of Acromantulas!

The planning is getting ridiculous, Ginny said in a rush, and theres only one way to be rid of it lets elope! Harry and Ginny blurted out at the same time. Periwinkle jumped at the sound of their voices and shot under the bed. Moments later, the two of them were wiping tears of laughter from their eyes. They settled onto the settee next to the fireplace and smiled at one another. And here I thought I was going to have a hard sell, he chuckled, running his index finger along her hairline and making her shiver with pleasure. Ginny smiled. With me? Absolutely not, love; with Mum, Dad and the rest of them, thats another question. She paused and brushed a kiss across his jaw. So, I guess the next question is when? I was thinking the weekend after Valentines Day, since theres a Hogsmeade trip planned for the students. Sirius is getting some information on discrete officiates. Oh, so youve told him, have you? Ginny said, arching her brow and biting back a laugh when she saw Harry wince. Oh, its alright. We could use an ally on the outside. She stopped once more, a tinge of sadness creeping around the edges of her joy. As much as her mothers planning had made her angry, she knew that if they went ahead with an elopement, it would hurt both her parents dearly. Gin, Id like to have your parents, Ron and Hermione join us that day, if youd be comfortable with that. She gave her head a shake and returned her gaze to his. Now I know youre using your Legilimency! Honestly, Im not, he said, taking a hold of her hand and running his thumb along the top of her engagement ring. Theyre our family. Im hoping that, by having them join us, well go a long way towards soothing any hurt feelings that they may have about us not wanting our wedding to be the Media Event of the Year. Apprehension started to encroach. I hope thats the case, Harry.

The media reports are getting way out of hand, and the last thing we need to have in our lives is a storm of publicity. He leant down and kissed her. We can still have a formal reception in June if thats what they want to do, and Im prepared to be the one to break the news to them. After everything weve been through, I want our wedding to be something sacred and shared only with the people who matter the most to us, not with the entire wizarding world. Ginnys eyes drifted shut as he kissed her again; she shivered a little from the passion shed seen in his eyes. She felt his fingers tugging at the ribbon shed tied around the top of her braid. He was right: it had been long enough. ~~~~~~~~~~~~ The following evening, at a residence in Nottingham, Nott snorted into his cocktail. Do you honestly think hell come through, Draco? Yes, I do, Draco said, his eyes narrowing. Nott always had hated Zabini, mostly because Blaise had been so bloody handsome. Notts face was enough to make his own mother weep. You werent here to see his face when I threatened him. Hell do anything he possibly can to protect that sister of his. Crabbe smiled. Maria Zabini. Always did fancy a piece of her. Well, you should add your Knuts to the wager Notts running. If he fails, you just might have your chance tonight. Draco had to admit to himself there was a part of him that had hoped Blaise would fail him. Hed grown tired of trifling with Ollivander and was looking for something new to occupy his time and amusement. Reports from the house-elf, Sondi, had been disappointing. She hadnt been able to acquire the blood sample from Ginny Weasley. Potter rarely left her side in the evenings and if thered been any need for a house-elfs services, his former house-elfs slavish devotion to The Boy Who Lived would trump any attempts Sondi may have made. Hed have to do something about that elf when the time came.

A knock on the door rang out. Draco waved a hand at Crabbe, who scurried over and opened it. Draco blinked when he saw a dishevelled and clearly nervous Blaise enter his office. Hed honestly thought that his lover would have fled the country. Draco, I came as soon as I could. Draco waved a hand at both Crabbe and Nott. Thatll be all for now. Stay close we have more to discuss. He watched as both men crossed the room. Nott gave Blaise a sneering glance before closing the door behind him. Well, Blaise, I have to say Im surprised to see you. Blaise narrowed his eyes. You threatened the health of my family. I had no choice. I assume that means that you were able to get some information for me, yes? Blaise walked over and tossed a packet in front of him. Ill have you know that my sisters fianc has risked his entire future to get this information for you. Draco had caught the note of hostility tingeing Blaises voice. Hed never heard it directed at him before, and he found that he didnt like it. At all. Sit down, Zabini. Id rather stand. Youll sit when you are told to sit, Draco hissed. He watched the look of defiance sputter from Blaises eyes as he sank into the chair opposite the desk. His eyes flicked onto the envelope, and he felt his heart begin to beat faster. His imagination had run rampant after learning of Potters recent brush with the Wizengamot. Now, at last, he would have some answers. He reached out and, breaking the seal, opened the envelope. A series of what appeared to be Muggle photographs spilled out onto the table. Bernard couldnt take the documents out of the archives so he photographed them, Blaise said in a rush. Developing them took a little doing, but we managed to locate a photo lab that was discrete.

Draco could barely hear him. His eyes were fixed upon one of the glossy photos in front of him: the naked body of his mother, bloodless and dead, on an autopsy table, in brilliant, nauseating colour. He felt bile rise in his throat. Shed been bitten by that great, foul snake Nagini theyd insisted on keeping at the house for the Dark Lord. The indecency and starkness of the photograph made him shove it back into the envelope. As he did, a similar photograph of his father slid into view. Bruised and lifeless, his gray eyes showed none of the fire and vibrancy hed remembered. For a moment he felt as though he would lose his composure until something in the image captured his attention: a faint outline of two hands on his fathers colourless chest. He grabbed the photograph and brought it closer to his face, moving a lit candle to further illuminate the image. The handprints didnt appear to be part of any of the bruising patterns on the body. They almost appeared to have been burned on. As if someones hands had A roar filled Dracos ears. As if someones hands had passed a spell through him! He dropped the photograph and tore through the other photographs. He found images of court documents and, grabbing his wand, he pointed it at the photographs and screamed, Engorgio! until the images were the size of standard sheets of parchment. He read through them, one page after the other, and the words leapt out at him: justifiable homicide unknown wandless variant cast by Mr. Potter not described by the Unforgivable Statutes no prosecution may be made self defence self defence Images from the night of June 14, 1998 slashed across his memory like a razor: being taken out of school in the dead of night. Returning to his familys home to find the first floor a disaster area. A giant pool of blood and the dead snake. Jumping to the conclusion that his fears regarding the snake had been realized. Vague memories of puzzlement because he was not allowed to see the bodies. Wondering what had happened to their wandsand finally, reports of Potters use of wandless magic. Hatred the likes of which Draco had never felt before permeated every cell of his body. Potter has to pay for what hed done to my family, he thought to himself as he rose from his seat, the photographs falling back onto the polished mahogany of his desk. It no longer mattered if he became as strong

as Potter had. The goals that Draco had clung to for nine years turned to ash as something snapped deep within his soul. Potter must pay, and those he loves must pay. What are you going to do now, Draco? Blaises voice sounded as though it were coming from several miles away. Draco slowly moved his head and faced his lover, taking in the look on his face. A plan began to form in his head. Crabbe! Nott! Come in here at once! The two men re-entered the room. Yes, Draco? Nott asked, his eyes never leaving Blaises. Proceed with the plan to acquire Maria Zabini and Bernard Comstock NO! Blaise screamed. He rose to his feet, tears erupting from his eyes. You got the information you wanted! You gave me your word! PETRIFICUS TOTALIS! Nott bellowed, his wand pointed at Blaise. He laughed as the mans limbs slammed up against his body, and he pitched forward. Well done, Nott, Draco said as he walked around to the other side of his desk and looked down upon the frozen form of his lover. They know too much, my dearest Blaise. As do you. He used his toe to roll him over so that he could look upon him one last time. His nose had broken in his fall and blood streamed down his cheeks to mingle with his tears. A look of terror and betrayal filled his eyes. For a moment, Draco came close to hesitating. But only for a moment. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ron shook his head and laughed as he listed to his son belting out the words to his favourite Muggle television show. Ooooooh! Who lives in a pineapple under the sea? SpongeBob SquarePants!

Living life in Muggle London had some definite perks. Some of the best restaurants hed ever tried, a wicked pub right down on the corner and, of course, the telly. Although he was still mad about Quidditch, hed finally taken the time to sort out cricket and rugby. Sometimes, nothing compared to a cricket match, a pint of bitter and a comfy chair. Then, two weeks ago, one of Hermiones friends had given them a new contraption called a DVD player and a show for each of them to enjoy. Matty had been watching SpongeBob SquarePants ever since and driving them all crazy with the theme song. Absorbent and yellow and porous is he! SpongeBob SquarePants! A softer giggle interrupted his musings and he looked down at his daughter. Charlotte was growing by leaps and bounds and was presently drumming her heels against the changing table. Taking a deep breath, he undid her nappy and groaned. For something so small she can certainly produce a lot of Ron? his wifes voice bellowed up the stairs. Sirius is on the Floo! Ron sighed. Hed heard the frustration in Hermiones voice and could picture the look that she must have been wearing on her face. Quite frankly, he was just as frustrated as she sounded. Hed been working flat out for the past week and had been looking forward to an evening at home with his family. Sirius himself had insisted that he take the night off and catch a bit of a break from the case. The fact that he was now on the Floo was bad news indeed. He made short work of taking care of Charlottes dirty nappy and soon she smelled decidedly better than she had only moments ago. He waved his wand and the nappy was whisked into the Nappy Wrapper. One of Hermiones friends had given it to them as a baby gift and he still remembered how his father pondered over how it worked. Shaking his head, he snuggled the baby up into the crook of his arm and headed for the hallway. As he reached the top of the stairs, he saw Hermione waiting for him, her brows beetled up into a frown. Steeling himself against wincing, he walked down the stairs and handed her the baby. If you keep frowning like that youll scare Charlotte to death.

I thought you had this evening off, Ron, she hissed, tucking the baby against her breast and walking down the hall ahead of him. Id made arrangements for a minder so we could go to the movies. Im sorry, Mione, but were all on call until we can get a handle on these murders, you know that. She stopped, turned and faced him. He hated to see disappointment in her eyes, especially since she was feeling so much better about her health these days. I promise Ill tell Sirius that if I have to go in tonight that hes got to let me have the weekend. She simply arched a brow, turned on heel and went into the kitchen. Flowers, he thought to himself. Roses. Ill get roses. He walked into the parlour and saw Siriuss grim face floating in the green flames. In an instant he tucked away his resentment and crouched down close. Whats happened, sir? Ron, I hate to do this to you, but youre the closest team member we have to the scene, Sirius whispered. Weve got a multiple murder in Ealing. Its a bloodbath, Ron, the worst one yet. Sexual torture and overkill, plus theres evidence that the killers were well acquainted with the victims. He paused, and Ron could hear him flipping the pages of the file. Two men and a woman, all in their late twenties, early thirties. Im heading over as soon as I can have to brief the Minister but we need to get you there now. Whats the urgency, sir? Ron said, puzzled. Ministry employee from the Wizengamot is one of the victims so theyre getting special treatment from Major Case, Sirius said as he flipped through a file. Gareth Easley and Miranda Edwards are heading over there right now and I want my best man to be there to go over the crime scene with them. Yes sir, I understand, Ron said, feeling his ears turn pink with the compliment. Anyway we need you to get over there, as quickly as possible. Sirius stopped rummaging through the file, closed the cover and handed it to Ron

through the flames. Victims names are Comstock, Bernard and Zabini, Blaise and Maria. ~~~~~~~~~~~ Under the Beech Tree An outtake from "The New Professor" A/N: This scene takes place back in Harry's 6th year at Hogwarts, sometime around the end of October. "Harry, mate, DO something," Seamus said around a mouthful of cornflakes. "All you ever do is moon over her. You're like some love-sick puppy, for Merlin's sake." "Oh, come on," he said, sounding a bit strained as Ginny rose to leave the table with several of her girlfriends. His plate of sausage and eggs was extremely interesting all of a sudden. "I am not." "He's right, Harry," Neville said, taking a swig of pumpkin juice. "It's getting embarrassing." "Look," Dean said, nudging Harry in the arm with his wand. "We've got a Hogsmeade weekend coming up. Why don't you ask her to go with you?" Harry heard a roaring in his ears: ask her out? He was a walking disaster when it came to girls; his experience the year before with Cho was a perfect example why he should chuck his aspirations for becoming an Auror and head for the nearest monastery. Still, he thought to himself, as Ginny walked past him and waved gaily at him, it's nice to dream. Ron, named Prefect for the second year in a row, rushed into the Great Hall and skidded to a stop at the table before sitting down and piling his plate with food. "Sorry I'm late ickle midgets getting stuck on the stairs to the dormitory." He stopped mid-bite and looked at Harry, who was brick-red and fumbling with the marmalade. "What's with him?"

"We're tired of Harry mooning around after Ginny," Seamus said, passing Ron the toast. Ron's eyes goggled. "What are you talking about?" he said, stuffing a sausage in his mouth and rolling his eyes. "They're just friends, you gits." "Fat lot you know, Weasley," Dean said. "Though, I shouldn't be surprised, given your own lack of enthusiasm towards the fairer sex." "Whadda you mean by that, Thomas?" Ron said, glaring. "Weasley," Seamus said with a laugh, "you've been besotted with Hermione for three years, mate, and you STILL haven't done anything but beg for her notes." Ron choked on his juice and flushed to the tips of his ears. "Tell you what, gents," Seamus continued. "I propose a challenge: by the end of dinner tonight we get dates for the next Hogmeade weekend. Failure to succeed in this task will result in" he swung around, as if looking for something. Finally he stopped, gazing out of the window, a slightly crazed grin covering his face. "A swim across the lake. Nude. In December." The shouts and obscenities were blistering, earning them the attention of a mob of second years towards the end of the table and a glare of reproach from Professor McGonagall. "Swim across the lake, starkers? You're mad, Finnigan," Ron said in hushed outrage, throwing down his toast in disgust. "Knew you wouldn't have the guts, Weasley," Finnigan said smugly. Well, that was that: the gauntlet had been resolutely thrown down. Their standing as honorable Gryffindors, brave and true, was at stake. "Right. I'm in," Ron said, nodding at the rest of the sixth-year Gryffindors boys. "Brilliant," Seamus said, "I'll ask Lavender if Weasley asks Hermione. Dean, you ask Padma...and you" he poked Neville with his wand, "ask Luna." He cast a final glare at Harry, "That leaves you, Harry. You've got to ask Ginny."

"Like that will ever happen," Ron said, shaking his head and failing to notice Harry's frown. By lunch, Harry was beginning to grow concerned about this hastily issued challenge, for Neville rushed over to them before Potions with an enormous smile on his face: "Luna said yes!" All too soon, the dinner bell rang, finding Harry and Ron to be the only ones who hadn't taken up the challenge. Like a man on his way to the gallows, Harry was trudging down the stairs from his dormitory to the common room when he heard two very familiar voices bickering at full volume. "You ignore me all day long, leaping up and running anytime I came within five feet of you, and NOW you want to talk?" Hermione said, shoving books into her bag. "Hermione, wait a minute," Ron said, dodging out of her way as she headed towards the stairs. "No," she said, stomping up the stairs past Harry, continuing her way up the girls' dormitory steps. "I will not wait a minute'. What do you want: to copy my notes from Transfiguration? If you'd listened to Professor McGonagall you wouldn't have transformed Pig into a badger." "No, that's not it," Ron said, pushing past Harry and standing on the landing at the foot of the girls'steps. "Well you can't have my notes from Potions I've loaned those to Lavender," she said, turning her back and opening the door to her dormitory. Ron stormed up several steps only to freeze a split second before the familiar, klaxon-like alarm began to reverberate throughout the tower as the stairs transformed into a slide. Girls flooded out of the dormitory to see who'd been stupid enough to try to come up again. "I WANTED TO ASK YOU TO GO TO HOGSMEADE WITH ME THIS WEEKEND!" Ron bellowed over the sound of the bells as he slid downwards, crashing into Harry and causing the two of them to end up in a heap at the bottom of the stairs. Parvati and Lavender squealed with delight as Hermione stood as still as a statue, her book bag forgotten at her side. Ginny gave her a congratulatory slap on the back, sending her sailing down the stone slide to crash into Ron, who had been helped to his feet by Harry.

This time, it was Ron and Hermione who toppled onto the ground at the bottom of the stairs. Without a word, she flung her arms around his neck and kissed him on the cheek while the girls of Gryffindor Tower cheered. Harry had to suppress a smile Ron's face turned as bright as a cherry. Rising to his feet, he offered his hand to Hermione. "Care to join me for dinner, Hermione?" he said, helping her onto her feet. Beaming, she linked her arm in his and the two of them made their way out of the portrait hole. Way to go, Ron, he thought to himself, happy for his two best friends. But suddenly his happiness turned to stark terror as he realized he was the last one NOT to have a date for the weekend, and he only had another hour left. He turned abruptly to see the ends of Ginny's bright red ponytail slip out of the portrait hole on her way to dinner. Damn. I'm going to have to do this in front of the whole bloody school. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny and her roommates were chuckling over Gryffindor's recent love match (who were, at that moment, chatting quietly with their heads tucked close together) when she noticed Alice becoming as white as a sheet and silent. "Alice, are you all right? You look as though you've seen a ghost." "H-hi Harry," Alice said hoarsely, staring at a spot over Ginny's right shoulder. Ginny spun in her seat to find Harry standing behind her, looking slightly pink and nervous. "Hi Harry!" she said brightly and scooted down the bench to give him some room to sit. "How are you doing, now that your best mates are an item'?" "Oh! Er" he said, going from pink to red in a nanosecond, "'bout time, don't you think?" He settled down onto the bench next to her and picked up a spoon left behind by another student.

"I'm glad you stopped by I've been wanting to talk to you about a little strategy for our first Quidditch match next weekend," she said briskly, reaching for the pitcher of pumpkin juice to her right. A movement caught her eye, and she turned in time to see four pairs of male eyes dart away from where Harry was sitting and become quite interested in the plum pudding that had appeared for dessert in front of them. "Harry," she said warily, turning to face him, "why would Dean, Seamus, Neville and Ron be staring at you down here?" "GinwouldyougotoHogsmeadewithmethisweekend?" Harry stammered. She blinked at him, her brow furrowing. "I'm sorry?" she said, ignoring the giggles coming from the girls sitting across from her. "I was wondering" he said, appearing to be a bit out of breath, "if you if you would go to Hogsmeade with methis weekend. Just me, you and metogetherI meannot a big crowd..." A light bulb was flickering on in the back of her mind and she smiled. He scrambled to his feet, looking as though he wanted to run full-tilt out of the Great Hall. "Oh GodGin, can you come with me, outside, now?" She spun on the bench to look up at him, to see the flush of embarrassment playing across his cheeks and down his neck, the way his eyes flitted back and forth between her, the door and the sixth-year Gryffindor boys at the end of the table. Perhaps it was time to put him out of his misery. "Umsure, Harry," she said, shyly She rose from the table, her friends staring as she gathered her book bag and headed towards the exit, Harry trailing behind her. For a moment, she thought she'd heard a distant "YES!" coming from where the sixth year Gryffindor boys were sitting, but before she could turn to confirm this, Harry was behind her, nudging her forward until they were out of the door. They walked in silence towards the great oak doors which led out onto the grounds. At one point, Ginny's hand brushed against Harry's which caused him to jump and place an extra foot between them. As they descended the steps to the grass, he picked up the pace, causing Ginny to take two steps to keep up with each of his. They were halfway between the giant beech tree and the lake when she'd finally had enough.

"Harry, what on earth is going on?" She stood stock still, hands on her hips, demanding an answer. "ErGin," he said, raising his eyes to meet hers for mere seconds before returning to scrutinize his shoes, "we've spent a lot of time together this past summer, right?" "Yes, Harry," she said, "we had a good time this summer." "Playing Quidditch, mucking around with Fred and George's new inventions," he went on, now starting to pace back and forth in front of her. "I remember, although I'd rather forget the Skiving Snackbox they snuck onto my plate at dinner the night of your birthday," she said, remembering how she'd had to spend the evening with an icepack on her nose. "Yeah," Harry said wanly. Ginny's brow furrowed. She took his hand, at which point he went stock-still and rigid. "Based on what you told me in the Great Hall, I'm guessing you've just asked me out on a date?" He nodded. Then he shook his head. "Er" Ginny stamped her foot. "Harry, what's wrong? I thought we'd gotten to be good friends this summer, and now you're nervous and twitchy, you won't look me in the eye, and something tells me if you would run back to the castle and lock yourself in, you would!" She tossed his hand aside, turning on her heel and marching back towards the castle. "Why on earth would I want to go out on a date with someone who can barely utter a coherent word to me?" "Ginny, wait!" Harry shouted behind her. She could hear his footsteps as he ran to catch up to her, but she didn't care. Suddenly, just as she reached the shade of the beech tree by the lake, his hand closed on her shoulder and spun her around to face him. She gasped at the strength of his hand and heat it radiated through her blouse. "Ginny, I'm sorry," Harry said, relaxing the grip he had on her shoulder. "You're right, we are good friends. Maybe that's why this is so damn hard."

She looked up into his eyes, much closer than she'd originally thought. She could see flecks of hazel surrounding his irises, something she'd never noticed before, and the length of his inky black lashes something she had noticed before, many, many times. "Just talk to me, Harry," she said softly. "I want to listen." "That's just it," he said, his hand leaving her shoulder and, taking off his cloak, he folded it into a neat square, placed it onto the ground and offered her a place to sit. Smiling shyly, she sat down, tucking her legs beneath her. He sat next to her on the grass with one leg outstretched, his gaze drawn to the lake for a moment before returning to meet her gaze. "You've become a good friend to me, Gin, and I don't want to do anything to jeopardize it. But lately," he paused, plucking at the grass between them, "when I see youor when I hear your voice, I feelwellnauseated." "Oh, that's nice," Ginny said, her brows coming together in a frown. Harry slapped himself on the forehead. "No, Iseethat's what I mean! I can't even think of the right words to use when I'm around you anymore." He snatched off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "Everything I want to say comes out in a jumble or completely wrong when all I really want to say is I like you, Ginny." He tucked his glasses back on and looked into her eyes. "I like you a lot." Ginny blinked. She blinked again. "What did you say?" Harry paled. "God, you're not going to make me say it again, are you?" Ginny glared. "I just might if you find it that hard to say in the first place." "See?" Harry cried, throwing his hands in the air and rising to his feet. "See what I mean? I'm a babbling idiot when it comes to you, Ginny. Fine, you want to hear it again? I like you, Ginny. I like you so much that I've tripped over my own feet at least half a dozen times whenever you come into the common room. That time I fell off my broom in practice? Had nothing to do with getting hit with a Bludger; you'd just come out onto the pitch in your uniform I've never told you that you look amazing in your uniform, have I? Well, you do. And I won't even tell you how many times my elbow has wound up in my plate or my bowl whenever you walk by."

Ginny rose to her feet to stand in front of him, all sound in the world stilled except for the sound of his voice. He stared at her. "Well? Say something! I think my chest's going to explode or something if you don't say something soon!" She pressed her palms against that chest and smiled up into his eyes. "What took you so long, Harry?" she said, unable to hold back the tears from falling. She felt as though he could see into her very soul, so serious was the gaze he cast upon her. His hands reached up to cup her face, the pads of his thumbs brushing the tears from her cheeks. "Will you go to Hogsmeade with me, Ginny?" Radiant with joy, she nodded, only to have her world shift on its axis with his kiss. There would be no naked swimming in the lake THIS December. Happy New Year! Author's Note, dated 01/03/04: When I started TNP, I made a promise to myself that I would not submit a revised version of any of the submitted chapters, preferring to just let them stand "as written". Because I don't have the entire story plotted out, I've run into a couple of times where something I've written before changes the way I have to approach something later (and no, I'm not gonna tell you where that's happened). However, when I received the betaed version back from Ahmie, the changes she proposed really tightened up the fic an enormous amount, so here it is -the revised version of "Happy New Year", once again showing that it is a writer's prerogative to change one's mind! : ) Many blessings, Ahmie, and thanks for all your help! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ With a muffled popping noise, Harry Apparated at the top of Stoatshead Hill. He shivered it was every bit as cold here as it had been up at Hogwarts. He'd fairly sprinted out the gates of the school to the designated

departure point for students of age to Apparate in his rush to get to the Weasley's. He hadn't been able to spend Christmas with them as he'd planned because of his training with Dumbledore, despite earlier promises to the contrary. While he'd understood the urgency it was clear that Voldemort was advancing towards the school Ginny had not. Thoughts of her became vivid as he walked down the hill to begin the long walk towards Ottery St. Catchpole. Her first reaction upon hearing the news that he wouldn't be able to join her for Christmas had been tears of disappointment, shortly followed by tears of rage. When Ron had heard the news, which hadn't been difficult considering he'd been up in the boy's dormitory at the time (and Ginny's voice had carried very well up the tower's spiral staircase), he'd joked that Harry should have considered himself lucky to survive the encounter. But to Harry it had been no joking matter. He'd wanted to tell her what was keeping him from joining her and her family but had been sworn to secrecy, a fact that had begun to chafe at him more often than not. For the next three days, she'd barely acknowledged his existence, further making a point of being one of the first on the carriages bound for Hogsmeade and the awaiting train. Harry'd written to Sirius as soon as he'd broken the news to Ginny. Sirius' reply had given him the slightest ray of hope he'd had in close to two weeks: Dear Harry, You're right you were a complete git. However, I think I may have just the thing to help you. Meet us at the Shrieking Shack at midnight on Christmas Eve. Sirius Wrapped in his Invisibility Cloak, Harry had run to the Whomping Willow and, finding a stout branch, had pressed onto the knot at the base of the tree and slid through the gap in the roots (it had been much easier when he was a third year). When he'd reached the entrance to the shack, he saw the glowing eyes of the giant dog he'd come to know and love. "Hello, Snuffles," he'd said, scratching the dog behind the ears. With a shake, the dog transformed into Sirius. "Hiya, Sirius."

"Hello, Harry," Sirius said with a grin. "You've gotten yourself into a bit of trouble, I'd say." Harry nodded miserably. "I don't know what to do! Keeping all of this a secret from Ginny is harder than I'd thought it was going to be." "Being in love makes keeping secrets that much harder, Harry," Remus said as he walked into the room, carrying in what appeared to be pieces of a table and tossing them into the fireplace. Harry felt himself blushing while he'd admitted that he'd loved Ginny to his godfather, he'd yet to tell the object of his affections. "Remus, you've made the boy practically glow in the dark," Sirius said with a grin. Remus merely smiled. "Accendo Strigo Fumificus!" he cried, and a smokeless fire had crackled to life on the hearth. "We can't stay long, Harry, but we wanted to see you during the holidays at some point. We've presents for you." "As I have for you," Harry said, lightness touching his heart for the first time that day. The three men sat around the hearth exchanging packages and sharing a flask of Firewhisky. Harry's first watery-eyed swallow caused Remus and Sirius to bark with laughter, all the while slapping him heartily on the back. Remus and Sirius gave Harry a portable telescope, charmed with a Shrinking Spell which would allow him to carry it with him wherever he went. For Remus, Harry had chosen a watch with a perpetual moon cycle calendar built into it. "I Charmed it so that it will warn you two days before the full moon so you can set your affairs in order." Finally, Harry gave his godfather a Master Disguise Kit, designed by the Weasley's (which had given Sirius a moment of concern until he learned it had been a prototype for the twin's Secret Weapons Division of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes). As the laughter subsided, Sirius' face became uncharacteristically somber as he handed Harry a small package. "Harry, this gift was left for you from your father and mother, to be given to you at Christmastime following your 17th birthday."

Harry blinked as tiny snowflakes began to fall, bringing him back to the present. He then realized he was within a quarter mile of The Burrow. Giving the small box in his pocket a squeeze, he continued on his way. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ginny glanced at the clock as she finished up the dishes from dinner. It was close to midnight and the Weasley family had begun their pre-bedtime rituals hours beforehand. The twins, who had come over for ice skating earlier, were packing up the leftovers Mrs. Weasley had set aside for them before heading back to their flat in Diagon Alley. Percy and his family had headed home shortly following dinner, his twins fast asleep after having spent a gleeful day with their Uncles Fred and George. Her parents had had to Floo over to Order headquarters for a meeting and had told her not to expect them until the wee hours of the morning. Ron had caught the Knight Bus to spend New Years Eve with Hermione at a neighbor's party. Ginny smiled Ron had spent hours in the bathroom, fussing with his Muggle party clothes. "A tuxedo," he'd proclaimed proudly, straightening his tie. Ginny had had to admit he'd looked amazing in his finery and knew Hermione wouldn't believe her eyes when he showed up on her doorstep that night. Bill and Charlie had headed out to the Muggle pub in town and had not returned yet. She'd noticed both of them had taken the time to neaten their appearances before walking out the door. Those poor Muggle women are in for it now, she thought to herself. It was only then that she realized she was alone in the house, alone for the first time in ages. All throughout Christmas and Boxing Day, she'd been desperate for some peace and quiet. She'd had to admit, however, that the chaos of the holidays had done much to keep her mind occupied, which had been a good thing. Considering the fact that the last time she'd seen Harry she was angry enough to peel the tapestries from the walls in Gryffindor Tower, she'd thought more about him than she'd cared to admit. When he'd told her he wouldn't be joining them for Christmas she'd been heartbroken. She'd remembered how much fun the two of them had had their first Christmas as a couple last year (including the two-hour snogging session they'd had Christmas Eve in her father's work shed) and had looked forward to spending more alone time with him this year. However, with time and

distance, the more she'd thought about the look of disappointment that had been apparent upon his face, the guiltier she'd felt about her response to the news. "Dammit," she said, jamming the last plate into the drying rack. "He should be here with us instead of stuck at school." He'd had so few happy Christmases in his life and the thought of his spending his holiday alone made her heart ache. She'd had a feeling that there was something he wasn't telling her about his reasons for staying at the school, but trying to wheedle information out of Ron and Hermione had run into dead ends. If he was up to something, it was something that no one had a clue about. She dried her hands and walked into the living room, standing in front of the fire which cheerfully crackled in the hearth. She looked at the Christmas tree, covered with ribbons, handmade ornaments and sparkling miniature fairy lights. "I wish Harry had been able to see this," she said to herself. "I should have written him, sent him his present, something instead of leaving him with angry words and spite." A log popped loudly on the fire. "I wish he were here right now so I could take it all back and tell him I love him." She started as a loud knock fell onto the door. A twinge of fear crept down her spine as she reached for her wand and walked slowly to the door. She squinted, trying to make out the face on the other side of the frost-covered window. "Who's there?" she said. "It's me, Gin," came a muffled voice. "It's Harry." She stood frozen for a moment, then sprang into action as she flung open the door to see him standing on the threshold, cheeks rosy from the snow and wind, bundled in his Hogwarts winter cloak, an emerald-green scarf (her gift to him last year) wrapped snuggly around his neck, tiny flakes of snow shimmering in his more-tousled-than-usual hair. She leapt into his open arms, joy unlike any she'd experienced before filling her heart as she breathed in his scent.

"Harry," she said, her mouth nuzzled in against his ear, "I was just wishing you were here." She felt him squeeze her tightly against him, lifting her feet from the ground. "How..." "We got finished a bit early," he said, his voice hoarse. "Can I come in?" "Of course!" Ginny said, releasing the hold she'd had on his neck as he set her back onto the ground. She opened the door widely, standing to the side as he picked up his knapsack as walked in. She closed the door, turning to see him gazing at the Christmas tree. He reached out to touch one of the velvet bows. "You know how ornate the trees are for the holidays at Hogwarts?" he said as he set down his knapsack and unbuttoned his cloak, tossing it into the nearby armchair. "I spent the holiday wishing was seeing this tree. This tree, with the ornaments you and your brothers have made over the years, with the strings of cranberries and popcorn we would have strung together." He turned to her, his eyes serious despite the smile on his face. "I'm so sorry I wasn't here on Christmas, Gin. There's..." he said, pausing as though searching for something in his mind, "there are things happening with the war that I can't talk with you about right now, but I promise I will tell you everything as soon as I can." He looked steadily into her eyes. "Trust me?" Ginny smiled tremulously and her eyes closed as she felt his hand come up to sweep away the tear she'd felt streaking down her cheek. She nodded once, opening her eyes to his gaze only to have them drift shut as he cupped her face between his hands and kissed her. It was several moments before she breathed again. "I have something for you," she said, reaching up to clasp one of his hands in hers and leading him towards the tree. She kneeled in front of the fire, drawing him down to sit by her. She pulled a small, gaily-wrapped package from one of the tree's lower boughs. "Happy Christmas, Harry." She watched as he gently unwrapped the present and opened the lid to the deep blue box. "I found it at a Muggle shop near Diagon Alley this summer." His eyes jerked up to meet hers and she was touched by the moisture she saw teasing his long black lashes. She looked down and saw him cradling the heavy silver pocket watch in the palm of his hand. The man at the Muggle shop had told her the watch was from the Art Deco period of Muggle architectural history. Embossed on the

cover was a peacock, although to Ginny it had looked like Fawkes. When she'd seen the watch, her mind had raced back to her first year and the time when Harry rescued her from Tom Riddle in the Chamber of Secrets. As he opened the watch, she smiled as recognition crossed his features. "I asked Dad if he could charm it so that you would have a miniature Weasley clock on it," she said in a rush. "If you want to look at the normal time, just press the winding mechanism." She reached over and touched the mechanism and the face of a regular Muggle timepiece appeared. He stared, enchanted at the watch and pressed the mechanism again to bring the Weasley clock back. "Thank you, Gin," he said, his voice filled with emotion. "I'll cherish it always." He leaned forward and captured her lips with his in a kiss that brought tears to Ginny's eyes. As the broke apart, his hand remained, caressing her cheek. "I've something for you as well." He rose from where they'd knelt, tucking the pocket watch safely away and walked over to his cloak. There was a bit of rustling around until his hand stilled, withdrawing a small, red-wrapped package. He walked back over to where Ginny sat, her eyes trained upon his. He lowered himself back onto the floor and held out the package. "Happy Christmas, Gin." She took the package from his hands and began to unwrap the paper. A black velvet jewelry box peeked through the crimson paper. She slowly lifted the lid of the box with trembling fingers and gasped aloud as the firelight struck the pendant inside. A square-cut emerald lay brilliant with green fire against the white satin lining of the box. Centered at its top were three small diamonds surrounding the golden prongs which connected the delicate gold chain to the stone. Her hands shook as she raised her eyes to meet his. "Harry, this is..." she whispered, "this is too much." His hand came up to take the box from her and remove the pendant from inside. "My father gave this to my mother on Christmas of their seventh year," he said somberly. He rose to his feet, extending his hand to her. "It's a stone that has been passed down from father to son for generations, and given to the women they've loved." Ginny's eyes filled with tears as she nodded, placing her hand in his and rising to stand before him. She watched as his fingers deftly unlatched the clasp and held the pendant out for her.

She turned, lifting her hair away from her neck, her eyes meeting his in the mirror over the mantelpiece. For a moment, his eyes drifted down to focus on latching the clasp, rising again to meet hers when he finished. His hands drifted down onto her shoulders, and she shivered at the feel of his thumbs against the nape of her neck, her eyes closing as she felt his lips press a kiss against the side of her neck. When she opened her eyes, she found his gaze burning into hers. She turned to face him, tears shining as he wrapped his arms around her waist. "I love you, Ginny," he said, smiling into her eyes. "I always will." "I love you too, Harry," she said, standing on tip-toe and kissing him with all the love she'd carried in her heart for him for so many years. A clock chimed in the kitchen, ringing twelve times. They broke their kiss, smiling into one another's eyes. "I reckon we jumped the gun a bit. Perhaps we should," Ginny said, rubbing her nose against his and nipping his chin, "try that again, just in case?" Harry's eyes sparkled. "Better safe than sorry. Happy New Year!"

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