Reign O'er Me

Chapter 14 - Love, Reign O’er Me

Only love
Can bring the rain
That makes you yearn to the sky.
Only love
Can bring the rain
That falls like tears from on high.

Love! Reign o'er me.

Love! Reign o’er me, rain on me.

On the dry and dusty road
The nights we spend apart alone
I need to get back home to cool cool rain.
The nights are hot and black as ink
I can't sleep and I lay and I think
Oh God, I need a drink of cool cool rain.

- Love Reign O’er Me, The Who

“Let us begin,” Albus Dumbledore said, sitting at one end of the kitchen table at Grimmauld Place. He, three other Professors and Charlie Weasley had arrived from Hogwarts as most of those staying at Headquarters had finished their evening meal; only Tonks, Arthur Weasley and the twins were absent. Dumbledore had arrived carrying his Pensieve; it had been placed on the table near his chair; the stone bowl appeared to be empty. Minerva McGonagall sat to his left, and with her on that side of the table were Nicholas and Perenelle Flamel, Molly Weasley, and then Sirius. Harry sat, a bit uncomfortably, at the other end where Nicholas had placed him; Ginny sat to his left, their joined hands resting on the table. Hermione sat beside Ginny, next came Ron, Charlie and Bill, and Remus Lupin sat next to Dumbledore. Dumbledore had started to dismiss Ron and Hermione from the gathering, but Harry had objected, and Perenelle had whispered something to Dumbledore that apparently changed his mind; they were allowed to keep their places.

“I had asked you to gather here - most of you, I should say,” he said, with a friendly smile at Ron and Hermione, “to discuss several recent events. All of you, other than perhaps Ron and Hermione, are aware of the prophecy that Sibyll Trelawney made before Harry’s birth….”

“They know. I told them.” Harry’s tone that made it clear that any debate on the wisdom of his doing so would not be pleasant.

Dumbledore nodded while Molly gave her youngest son and Hermione a worried look. Hermione asked, “Were you going to show us, Professor?” as she motioned toward the Pensieve.

“That had not been my original intent; however, doing so might be worthwhile for everyone here.”

He touched his wand to his temple and extracted a silvery strand of thought that he placed in the basin; a moment later, the image of Trelawney floated above the Pensieve, “The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies….”

All of them had heard the prophecy before, but outside of the professors, only Harry had heard it as delivered in the strange, hoarse, harsh tones Trelawney had used. Several of those sitting around the table looked at Harry with a mix of sympathy, horror - and to his frustration, pity. Hermione reached across Ginny to place her hand atop theirs for a moment, her eyes trying to meet Harry’s, but his gaze had fixed on the table in front of him after what he had seen in Bill and Charlie’s expressions.

Dumbledore continued, “Some of you are aware that two years ago, Sibyll gave a second prophecy. Harry, I had not planned this, or I would have asked you first instead of surprising you in this fashion. Would you be willing to share your memory of the second prophecy?”

Harry nodded; Dumbledore rose and carefully picked up the Pensieve, walked to the other end of the table, and placed it in front of Harry and told him what to do. Harry placed the memory in the swirling bowl and Dumbledore did something with his wand. Trelawney again appearedabove the Pensieve. “It will happen tonight. The Dark Lord lies alone and friendless, abandoned by his followers. His servant has been chained these twelve years. Tonight, before midnight… the servant will break free and set out to rejoin his master. The Dark Lord will rise again with his servant's aid, greater and more terrible than ever he was. Tonight… before midnight… the servant… will set out… to rejoin… his master…”

“The servant referred to, of course, was Peter Pettigrew,” Dumbledore said. He carefully moved the Pensieve back to his end of the table and took his seat. “As we all know, that prophecy has already been fulfilled.” He paused, waiting for their attention. “What none of you yet know, other than those of us,” he motioned to McGonagall and the Flamels, “who heard it first hand, is that Sibyll Trelawney made a third prediction a few days ago.” He extracted another thought and tapped the Pensieve.

Above the stone bowl, the image of Trelawney started to stand; then her expression changed; her eyes lost focus, and she dropped back down. She began to speak in strange, hoarse tones. “Chaos shall reign! The seventh has bound him, and death shall free him. The servant shall lead, and he will find and lose death and the dead. One shall be two; two shall be three and then burn; three have become four; four and eight shall stand. The betrayer shall deal betrayal; betrayal shall lead to betrayal, and love shall seek in desperation… and if answered shall be repaid in full measure.”

There was silence for several moments; Harry finally asked, “When?”

“It was Sunday, Harry.” Perenelle answered gently. “Yes, you should have been told earlier, but the events of the last three days have proceeded at a relentless pace. And we did not want to lay this before you without at least some consideration of what it might mean.” She glanced at Nicholas; they briefly touched two fingers together, and he nodded. “And, in all honesty, our original understanding of the first portion was so horrific, we dared not share our first thoughts before exploring the meaning further. Prophecy, true prophecy, is perilous, one never knows if taking action is preventing or fulfilling the prediction, and in this instance, we dared not take chances.”

Harry asked, softly, “What was it?”

“The first words, ‘Chaos shall reign,’ tell us little other than in a very general sense,” Perenelle explained. “It certainly has proven true thus far. Also, it shows that seers often have a flare for the dramatic. But it was the next words that gave us pause. ‘The seventh has bound him, and death shall free him.’ We believe Ginny to be the seventh; the seventh child and the reference to your bond seemed clear enough; further, this was past tense, referring to an event that had already happened. What was troubling was the reference death freeing you; we had greatly feared this might refer to Ginny…”

Harry was aghast, what had he done to Ginny?

“Fear not, Harry, our worst fears were not born out by events. We now have little doubt that the ‘death’ that freed you was not a death at all, it refers to the supposed death of Sirius, and his letters, and his will, which did free you… in a variety of different ways. Ginny was not the subject of this aspect of the prophecy.”

Harry nodded, but the knuckles on the hand holding Ginny’s were white. She placed her other hand atop his and stroked his fingers and the back of his hand until his grip loosened. Perenelle continued, “The next phrase refers to the servant. We believe that this refers to Peter Pettigrew; he was so named in the second prophecy, and he led you to the book that you were searching for. And the four of you used what you found there - to free Sirius, but something else escaped as well.”

Harry nodded. “Do you have any idea what it was?”

“Not as of yet,” McGonagall answered. “But we are still searching. We have been somewhat hampered by our unwillingness to share a great deal of what we actually know with those outside the Order, and Professor Dumbledore has been reluctant to involve Ministry personnel given the situation there.”

“But we are greatly concerned, Harry,” Nicholas said. “The effect of that creature, whatever it was, was very similar to a Dementor, but instead of a proximity effect, it seems to have been coupled to where it was facing or, perhaps, where it was looking; this could make it far more dangerous, as there might be little warning of its approach, particularly if it has some means of controlling the effect. It was powerful, more so, I think, than a single Dementor. And there are many unknowns, even including exactly what you did to drive it away.”

“What about the rest of the prophecy?” Hermione asked after a minute or so of silence. “Do you know what it means?”

“Not as of yet, at least for most of it,” Perenelle replied. “We have speculated that the phrase that says, ‘three have become four,’ refers to you four young people and was also given in the past tense.”

“I believe it is possible that, ‘One shall be two,’ may refer to the return of Sirius,” Dumbledore said. “One Marauder, as I believe you used to refer to yourselves, is now two. But that too is not clear, given Peter Pettigrew still….”

“Peter is no Marauder,” Sirius stated flatly. “That ended the day he turned on James; on all of us. But give me a chance, and I’ll cheerfully eliminate all doubt of how many Marauders there actually are.”

“In any case,” Dumbledore continued, “That is the only speculation we have thus far on that phrase. The next, ‘two shall be three and then burn,’ thus far, we do not know. Had the ordering been different…. Suffice it to say that this far, we do not know.”

“The four and the eight, we do not know, unless the four as used there has the same meaning I mentioned earlier,” Perenelle said, “thus far, we do not have even plausible speculation for eight, or what stand refers to. We believe that ‘the betrayer’ might also refer to Peter Pettigrew, but beyond that, there may be little we can even guess until events unfold. If any of you should have ideas, please share them. Hermione, it would be good exercise for you to apply your Arithmancy skills to the various combinations. I would like you to make an effort before we discuss this further, so you will be as free as possible of preconceived ideas.”

Ron muttered to Hermione, something of which she apparently disapproved. Nicholas had watched this interaction and said, “If you have a thought, Mr. Weasley, please share it with all of us. Any of you might know some seemingly insignificant thing that now seems unimportant but might shed light on the meaning.”

“Could ‘the betrayer’ mean Professor Snape,” Ron asked, a bit nervously.

Dumbledore replied, “I most sincerely do not think so; however, it is difficult to completely discount his history and to forget the words Harry said to him a few days ago. But Pettigrew is worthy of consideration as well, based on his history, and also on what he is now offering.”

This last statement provoked a reaction; apparently none of the others at the table had any idea what Dumbledore was talking about. Sirius and Remus were both looking demandingly at Dumbledore; Nicholas exchanged a look with Perenelle and commented, “It is not only seers who have a flare for the dramatic. What new thing has happened, Brian?”

Sirius had started to stand before stopping himself and settling back down in his seat. “What does Wormtail want, besides protection from Remus and me?” Sirius growled, menacingly.

“He does not know about you, Sirius,” Dumbledore replied. “At least not yet. He claims to have knowledge that he wishes to barter for his freedom.”

“About Voldemort?” Harry asked.

“Can we trust anything that rat would say? And isn’t it most likely a trap?” Sirius demanded.

Dumbledore raised his hands, as if to slow them down. “Word only reached me earlier today that Pettigrew claimed to have knowledge of vital interest to us and that he wished to bargain. I have no information on what the details might be; however, it seems likely that Voldemort is the subject, Harry. He demanded to talk to you, Remus; he said he would refuse to talk with anyone else.”

Sirius objected, “What does he have to bargain with? Dump a pint or two of Veritaserum down his throat and be done with it. Or give me a few hours with him… alone. He’ll talk well before I’m done.”

“Only two or three drops would be needed; a dose that large would be frightfully toxic,” Hermione unthinkingly corrected. “Oh,” she added as she realized she had spoken aloud and understood from Sirius’ vicious grin that he was well aware of the proper dosage.

“Both thoughts had occurred to me, as well as using Legilimency,” Dumbledore then answered. “However, we cannot know what defenses he may have prepared in advance. It may be best to simply talk to him and see what he has to offer.”

“I can’t believe you would consider such a thing,” Molly objected. “This Pettigrew killed Harry’s parents as assuredly as if he had cast the spells himself. He framed Sirius and left him to rot in Azkaban and then spent years hiding in my house, pretending to be a child’s pet. And after all that he sets off and makes it possible for You-Know-Who to return and kills another boy and almost kills Harry in the process, and you want to make a deal with him?”

“In a war, sometimes one must choose the lesser of two evils, Molly. I know how distasteful this seems, but remember that a debt lies between Pettigrew and Harry,” Dumbledore said. “It may be that he yet has a role to play. If by chance he knows something we could use, can we afford to ignore it?”

“And even if he does say something that looks useful, how do we prove it?” Charlie asked. “We’re not exactly getting much in the way of intelligence now.”

“Severus was not our sole resource,” Dumbledore replied. He hesitated before adding, “But using our remaining options must be considered carefully. We may be able to only use them once or at great risk.”

“I don’t want Remus going alone,” Sirius said. “It sounds like you’ve already made up your mind to at least listen to what he has to say, Albus. If Wormy wants to talk to his old pals, he can damn well talk to both of us.”

“There might be some advantage to that,” Remus said, thoughtfully. “Peter never liked surprises; Sirius being there would put him off balance.”

“I intend to do more than put him off balance. A whole lot more than just put him off balance.”

“Then I shall make the necessary arrangements,” Dumbledore said.

“Wait!” Harry objected. “What if it’s some kind of trap?”

“I need to do this, Harry.” Something unspoken passed between godfather and godson. “But I’ll be careful. I promise.”

“He will have been checked in every way possible, Harry,” Dumbledore reassured him. “And Nicholas or I - no, both of us - will be nearby, as will other Aurors. While I cannot completely rule out any surprises, I do not see a great deal of risk if precautions are taken. And the possible gains are worth considering. Pettigrew has personally served Voldemort since he returned. From what Severus has told us, Voldemort has not concealed his activities in front of Pettigrew. He may have seen much that would be useful to us.”

“Is Sirius Black, notorious former fugitive and more recently known in the press as the late Sirius Black supposed to openly waltz into the Ministry and go about his business?” Bill asked. “Somehow, that doesn’t seem like it’s going to help matters.”

The expression on Sirius’ face indicated he would relish doing exactly that. “You know, this is sounding better and better as we go along. I’d wanted to get some new threads before going out and about, but somehow popping up at the Ministry first appeals to me, even if I have to dig out some of my old Rocker kit. I’d fit into it right now.”

“You’d scare the hell out of them in that leather jacket,” Remus grinned; most of the rest of those around the table weren’t quite sure what they were talking about.

“Where’d my Triumph end up, anyway?”

“I believe that Hagrid has it stored somewhere at Hogwarts,” Dumbledore said. “But if we may defer that for the moment, I would like to discuss how to best deal with word of your return, Sirius. If things were any less confused than they are at the moment, I would want to see the news of your return made public at once. Now, however, I am unsure…”

Sirius interrupted Dumbledore. “Maybe you’re not sure, Albus, but dammit, I am. I’m not going to sit in this house with my thumb up my arse for Merlin knows how long. I’m going to have a life again. By the way, so is Harry. You might as well get used to it; I fired you, remember?"

“If you can figure out some way to get some mileage out of my return, go for it. Don’t think small; I’d like a full blown, three-ring media circus. Bring in that reporter Harry talked to, if you’d like. She can sure write a hell of a follow-up to that story about Harry nabbing Peter, and she seems to be on our side. I’ll give you a day or two, then after that, I’m going to spend some time away from here. I’m going to look up some old school friends and have a meal or two inside a pub instead of digging through the bins behind it for a change. I want my bike back, or I'm going to get another one. Maybe I’ll teach Harry to ride.”

Sirius looked at Dumbledore, as if challenging him to object. “And I’m dragging Moony to Diagon Alley to see that Fred and George do what they committed to do. And Harry and Ginny are coming too, and we’re going to have some fun for a change. If you’re depending on him to save the sodding world, you’d better give the kid a reason or two to want to save it; the way he was living, it’d be nothing more than good riddance. You’ve got some time to get ready; you can have an Auror every ten feet if you want, but we’re going shopping.”

Perenelle smiled indulgently at Sirius, “Truly, he is right, Brian. If the confusion at the Ministry is your concern, perhaps the return of a flamboyant Sirius Black will take the attention off of it for a moment. And his perception is quite accurate, if flippantly delivered. Harry and Ginny need some normalcy in their lives - indeed, the flurry of activity around them of late seems to have slowed their bonding; I believe an outing would be good for all concerned. Indeed, I will join them myself.”

Dumbledore looked at her, concealing his surprise. Perenelle rarely ventured out in public - her gifts made it difficult for her to be in a crowd of people for any length of time - and she had said nothing to him of problems with the bonding, though in fairness, he had been less than readily available for the past two days. But this was neither the time nor place to pursue it further. “Setting up an interview with Rita Skeeter was one of the things that I had considered, Sirius. As that appears to be the only mutually agreeable option, I will set this up. Perhaps there is a way we can use this to our advantage. If you have no objection, I would prefer the interview to take place somewhere other than here.”

Sirius was a bit surprised at Dumbledore’s easy capitulation. “Anywhere’s fine. In fact, as nice as Dobby has the place looking, I’m already a touch of feeling cabin fever, so I won't be picky as long as it has a bar and the reporter is buying. Now, how about our little trip to Diagon Alley?”

Dumbledore looked less happy about this, but said, “Give us two or three days to consider how we best use our limited resources to ensure everyone’s safety.”

Sirius nodded, again feeling a bit surprised. He had expected that his intent to take Harry beyond the confines of Headquarters or Hogwarts would have met far stronger opposition, but even Molly had seemed supportive. “That’s reasonable, I guess.”

Dumbledore continued to the next topic. “We have intended for the past several days to begin some lessons; however, it looks as if Nicholas and I will be fully occupied for the next few days with events at the Ministry and Wizengamot. In the meantime, Remus Lupin has agreed to fill in for a few days on Defense, and I would also like for you four to plan to work with Minerva McGonagall and Perenelle Flamel tomorrow. If it is agreeable to everyone, I would like you to meet with Professor Lupin tomorrow for two hours, starting at ten, then at one p.m. for two hours with Professor McGonagall, then at three with Professor Flamel.”

“We did a little Defense practice this afternoon,” Harry said. “Sounds like a great schedule to me; we even get to lie in a bit.” The other teens nodded their agreement.

“Might I ask how you practiced, Harry?” Nicholas asked with interest. “I would think your current restrictions would be a bit limiting.”

“Ginny and I fought back to back,” Harry replied. “It was Hermione’s idea. After we got used to it, it wasn’t too bad, actually. We did okay.”

“You did more than okay,” Ron said, with just a touch of annoyance. “You two got Hermione and me twice, and took us out a third time before fighting to a draw with Tonks.”

“Quite resourceful,” Nicholas commented.

“What will we be working on in the afternoon?” Ginny asked.

“I will be testing the four of you to see if, by chance, any of you has the aptitude to become an Animagus,” McGonagall replied. “Sirius, I would welcome you joining us, as well.”

“And I will begin your instruction in Apparition,” Perenelle said. “Even if you all master the Portkey, being able to apparate may prove useful as well.”

“Without a license?” Hermione asked.

“At the moment, there is a certain flexibility on the part of the Minister. The necessary waivers have already been prepared. There will be additional lessons in other subjects that we shall address as the summer moves along,” Dumbledore added. “We have covered the items that I wanted to discuss this evening; are there any additional subjects that we need to consider?”

“The Dursley boy,” Sirius said. “I’m not very happy about him being here. He’s a dodgy sort, a rank little hoodlum who’ll end up in the nick. I don’t trust him.”

“The boy was as mistreated as Harry, through in very different ways,” Dumbledore said. “And I still feel an obligation to Petunia, particularly now that she is injured and deserted by her spouse. And Dudley has no other place to turn.” Dumbledore paused, considering. “Further, after Tom Riddle, I would not willingly place any wizard child in an orphanage.”

“Are you sure you’re not letting your guilty conscience put Harry at risk?” Sirius pressed.

“Sirius! How can you even ask Albus such a thing?” Molly asked before Dumbledore could respond.

“Molly, Sirius is right to question my judgment. I have made a number of errors of late.” Dumbledore thought for a moment and then said, “Perhaps I am making a mistake, Sirius. Though I did not know it at the time, since the attack on Privet Drive, I have learned that it may have been agents of Voldemort who contacted Vernon Dursley and told him of Petunia’s background. I am still uncertain how Vernon Dursley learned certain details, and I do not see what Voldemort might have hoped to gain by this, as Harry’s protection was through his aunt, not his uncle. I also do not see how the boy is other than a victim of events; still, caution is warranted.”

“How long will it be before he can be returned to Petunia?” Sirius demanded.

“Perhaps never, Sirius. Petunia will not be able to care for herself for some time, let alone Dudley, particularly given his upbringing and the nature of his usual companions. And frankly, the boy needs some positive intervention in his life.”

“Let it be, at least for now, Sirius,” Harry requested. “He’s no prize, but even Dudley doesn’t deserve to be dumped in an orphanage. Maybe you could straighten him out.”

Sirius looked thoughtful before addressing Dumbledore. “Is he under my care, Albus?”

“There are no formal arrangements,” Dumbledore replied. “And I will leave him in your care; however, I would much prefer not to have to ask Minerva to sort him out after a complex transfiguration. Already I have had to persuade Molly not to finish what Hagrid started.”

This last remark drew chuckles from around the table; the mood lightened. Molly looked a bit flustered as she defended herself. “I only said that because of how he’s treated Harry. I wouldn’t really harm the boy.”

“Indeed,” Dumbledore said. “Are there any other items that we should discuss?” After no one spoke for a few moments, Dumbledore stood. “Thank you all. The last two days have been quite busy; I hope you will all forgive my quick departure, but I shall be returning to Hogwarts momentarily.”

“And I will join you,” Nicholas said. “I believe that we have both earned a bit of slumber.”

Charlie commented that he had an errand at Hogwarts, and Bill also excused himself; Ginny seemed to have some idea of his destination as she asked him where he was going in an exaggerated French accent. Bill glanced at Molly; fortunately she had not heard Ginny; he whispered he’d tell her later if she’d leave off now. A short time later, the two oldest Weasley brothers, Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Nicholas Flamel left the kitchen towards the front door. Dumbledore noticed that Perenelle had lingered; he considered talking to Nicholas once they reached Hogwarts; he was still rather concerned by the hint she had given earlier that not all was as it should be between Harry and Ginny. Then again, Perenelle had never been one to tip her hand before she was certain, and Nicholas might not have yet had the opportunity to talk with her at any length. Perhaps it would be best to simply wait a bit longer.

Perenelle had stood and approached the end of the table where Harry and Ginny still sat. She said, “I would like to talk for a bit with the two of you, if you would not mind.”

Harry and Ginny exchanged glances; Ginny answered for both of them. “Of course we wouldn’t mind. Here?”

“From what Nicholas tells me, the two of you have your own sitting room. Perhaps there would be more comfortable and more private as well.”

“Okay, it’s up several fights of stairs,” Ginny warned.

“Then show me. Anyone who teaches at Hogwarts is accustomed to stairs,” she replied.

Harry took care to tell both Molly and Sirius where they were going and gave Ron and Hermione an apologetic shrug before he and Ginny led Perenelle to their rooms. After they reached the suite, she walked about the rooms, much in the fashion Nicholas had, before sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs; the two teens sat together on one of the couches. “Did you manage to set aside a little bit of time for yourselves today?”

“We spent some time together, just the two of us, this afternoon,” Ginny replied. “And after that, Sirius came up, and we talked for a bit before going down to the kitchen to eat. It was a pretty relaxed afternoon.”

“One that you have both earned, many times over. Again, may I?” Perenelle moved forward, extending her hand; Harry and Ginny met hers with their joined hands. This time she sat unmoving for several minutes before releasing their hands. She then sat back in her chair, looking at them reflectively for another minute before speaking. “There is no doubt the time you spent this afternoon was good for you; indeed, if all it took to complete your bonding was ensuring you spent the necessary time together, I would seal the two of you in this room for the next week with a few provisions,” she said with a smile.

“But it’s more than that,” Harry said, resignedly, “isn’t it? There always is. Where’d I screw up?”

“Harry, please, listen to me. Neither of you have ‘screwed up,’ as you have so bluntly put it. Indeed, you two together have together achieved something remarkable. But there is - something - that is inhibiting things from proceeding as they should. May I speak as bluntly as you have, Harry and Ginny?”

They both nodded. “Thank you. First, as you have been told, your bonding could not have proceeded anywhere near this far if the two of you had any reservations or doubt, and indeed, I have no doubt whatsoever that the two of you joined as openly and willingly as any two ever joined. But, Ginny… child, there is a shadow on your heart; some fear, some hidden specter that you have pushed away so hard and so deep, your conscious mind knows it not.”

Ginny’s expression showed a mix of surprise and fear; Harry pulled her close and, switching hands, wrapped the other arm around her protectively. Perenelle continued gently, “Ginny, on Sunday evening, Harry opened his heart to you completely. He said the words - some of the most powerful words of all - and he meant them with his heart and his soul. And he freely gave you his trust. And, Ginny - you answered in kind, but you have not yet completely shared your heart with him. Indeed, your conscious mind refuses to acknowledge that the dark place exists.”

“If… if I can’t remember… how? And why? Harry saved my life, and now… why would I hold anything back from him? I trust him with my life.”

“Ginny, the mind is a complex thing. As I said, your conscious mind has rejected whatever it is so thoroughly as far as it’s concerned, whatever it is does not exist. The subconscious, however, knows it well. The subconscious is blind and often rather stupid and stubborn; however, in you it is demandingly honest; it will not permit things to move forward when your sharing is unbalanced.”

“Then how? What must I do?” Ginny’s tone held a touch of desperation.

“I can try and help you find it, child, but it is only fair to warn you that whatever lies hidden, you no doubt pushed away for good reason. It is not to be done lightly.”

“Or at all,” Harry said. “Ginny, don’t take chances; it’s not worth it.”

“No, Harry, you are worth it. And we, the two of us together, are. Remember my promise, that nothing will keep me from your side?” Then to Perenelle, “Do it. Now, whatever it takes. Just do it.”

Perenelle moved from the chair to join them on the couch, sitting beside Ginny. “Listen now, children - I should not call you that, as you have both shown you are anything but; still, you are kind enough to humor an old woman like me. Through your bond, you have already at times shared each other’s thoughts, feelings… and even Harry’s sleeping draught. With practice and time, it will become second nature, a means of communicating and sharing just between the two of you. I shall attempt to enhance that, and together, we will attempt to confront what lurks hidden.” She took Ginny’s free hand in one of hers, and placed the other atop their joined hands.

“Now, close your eyes, and try to clear your minds. And do not fight it; let what comes, come.”

They did as she instructed; Harry and Ginny could feel each other’s presence and that of Perenelle Flamel. At first there was nothing; then Harry began to sense bits and flashes of Ginny’s memories - he saw himself through her eyes. He saw her eagerness as she prepared to meet him for the fateful meal the previous Saturday, her desire to catch his eye, and how Sirius’ letter had breathed new life into her hopes. He felt her thrill and excitement as he had accepted her into the group that braved the Department of Mysteries. He saw her anguish as she watched him last year, and felt the tears she had shed that he could not; would not. He saw her talking with Sirius, last summer, before he arrived.

Harry felt her frustration as she dated Michael Comer and others; her unselfishness as she tried to give up on him, not for her sake, but his, but hoping that at least he would be happy, even if she were not. He felt her heart break, seeing him with Cho Chang, and her anger at how Cho had treaded him. Harry caught many glimpses of himself, and also of Ron and Hermione, and saw how she had longed for the easygoing camaraderie and companionship the trio had shared; he felt her agony as the three of them had casually and uncaringly pushed her away time and again. Merlin, how could we have been so blind, so callous, so insensitive, so selfish? How could I? I knew what it was like to be alone, surrounded by people who didn’t care, who were indifferent; I knew better.

Harry saw how truly alone Ginny had been; with no really close friends among her roommates; at best, during her second and third year, she got what little Hermione had left over after dealing with the demands he and Ron made on her time, but regardless, she presented a brave front to the world. He saw how long she’d waited in her third year, hoping against hope that he would ask her to the ball before giving up and going with Neville, he saw her spiritedly defending him to all comers… Merlin, she had even stood up to Severus Snape defending him and proudly served detentions for it on more than one occasion. There was no need; she could have remained silent and avoided any sanction. And he had never even known…

Then, through her eyes, he saw their first meeting, he perceived what she had suddenly felt that day, how she had known, some way, some how, even then, ten years old, that their fates were bound together, what would take him most of the next six years to even begin to realize.

What a fool he had been. Harry had known he owed his friends, particularly for the last year, but the sheer enormity of his debt to this slender girl sitting beside him staggered him, and that she had summarily dismissed the enormity of it all with four little words: “That doesn’t matter now” on their first night together. If anyone had ever had a right to hate his very existence, it was Ginny Weasley.

Then - her first year; the Chamber, the basilisk, Godric’s sword… and Tom Riddle. Harry felt the first resistance from Ginny; but Perenelle pushed ahead, gently but firmly. Harry heard - or perhaps felt - her words. “Fear not, Ginny. We are here. You will not face it alone.”

Harry tried to share his love and concern; he felt Ginny squeeze his hand in acknowledgement. And then… something gave way; Harry was flooded by wave after wave of images; Riddle… the Diary… of Ginny being pulled inside, as he had been; Harry saw horror upon horror that he had shown her… and had done to her, over and again… what he had made her do. Harry had thought he had known the whole story, but in truth, none of them had more than scratched the surface; My God, how had Ginny born this alone? What he had suffered paled in comparison, and while he had had the luxury of rejecting the help everyone had offered, Ginny, desperately wanted someone, anyone to lean on, but was too afraid and too ashamed to seek help; she had suffered silently alone; even her own mother had been so wrapped up in the problems of The Boy Who Lived that she did not see the suffering of her own daughter. And after all this, Ginny still cared for him?

Tears ran down both their faces; Harry felt Perenelle slowly withdrawing, backing them away from the torrent of memories that she’d released. Harry felt the connection fading; Ginny turned to him, burying her face in his shoulder and cried uncontrollably. Harry held her closely, unsure of what to do. He looked at Perenelle, begging for some clue; she motioned for him to remain as he was as she moved back to the chair.

Ginny wept for several minutes before she finally cried herself out; she kept her head against Harry’s shoulder for several minutes more before finally pulling away. She refused to look at Harry, but turned towards Perenelle, eyes fixed to the floor. “The bond… Sever it. I can’t… not to Harry. Please… Sever it!”

Perenelle reached out and lifted Ginny’s chin until their eyes met, “Child, no; why would you ask such a thing? You perceived what Harry felt; even as you were there for him then; he is here for you now.”

“Harry… Harry… deserves someone… better than me. I’m… tainted… I fell… I gave in… you saw; it wasn’t just Tom. I sought him out, even though I knew I was wrong; time after time; I thrived on his attention; I submitted… to his every whim… when he threatened not to talk to me… he didn’t ignore me; he listened, made me feel… feel… Now, how can I face Harry or Ron or Hermione or Mum or anyone decent ever again?”

“Ginny… That doesn’t matter now. Voldemort has tricked far older and more experienced people than you. You were just twelve.” Harry used the arm he’d wrapped around her shoulders to coax her to shift where he could see her face; she still would not meet his eyes. “Some of it’s my fault. If I hadn’t ignored you, if I’d been half as good a friend to you as you were to me, you’d have had some place else to turn to. And you were strong; you rejected Tom in the end; you threw the book away. I used to think no one would ever know how I felt; could understand what I’ve been through, but, Ginny, you have, and worse. Don’t push me away; you were there for me; let me help. The past doesn’t matter, Ginny; all that matters is what we do from here.”

Ginny now met his eyes; a glimmer of hope had returned, “Do you really mean that, Harry? You deserve better. You still want to… be with me… after… knowing… all that?”

“Especially after knowing that.” He again reprised her words to him, “I’m a Gryffindor, Ginny. I don’t run away from my friends when the chips are down. I love you. Nothing has changed that. Nothing will.”

She buried her face against his shoulder again; Perenelle stood and said, “Retire now, Harry; the two of you need time; I shall see that you are undisturbed for as long as necessary; indeed, freely take whatever time you want. Lessons, training, and other responsibilities; all of them come after this. Take care of her, and yourself, first; all else shall wait. Come, now; carry her back; I will ward your door myself.”

Harry lifted Ginny, surprised at how light she was in his arms; she kept her head buried against his shoulder. As he carried her to their room, Perenelle motioned with her hand; the door closed, and she made several additional motions. She then made her way down the stairs; she spoke briefly with Sirius and Lupin, telling the latter not to count on them for the morning class; then she climbed the stairs again and started to get comfortable on one of the couches before remembering there was one other person who must be told of her plans. She had noticed Harry’s owl as she had walked about the room; she approached Hewing, speaking softly. “You are certainly a lovely creature. Your young friend will have no need of your services for several hours, but I would be most grateful if you would consent to carry a message to Hogwarts for me.”

Hedwig was willing; in fact, she was eager; she had not carried a message in some time. Perenelle conjured a scrap of parchment and a quill and wrote a short note. “Now, if you would take this to my Nicholas at Hogwarts, I would most certainly appreciate it. His last days have been quite busy; if you would, wait for him to wake on his own, and unless he asks, there is no need to wait for a reply. And upon your return, I will see that something fitting from the larder makes its way to you.”

Hedwig held out a leg; Perenelle attached the parchment and opened a window; the snowy owl took wing and soared away. Perenelle closed the window and made herself comfortable on the couch and waited.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius and Remus were sitting together in the kitchen. Ron and Hermione had disappeared as soon as Harry and Ginny had led Perenelle up the stairs; Molly had gone upstairs a few minutes later after talking with Arthur through the floo; he would be at the Ministry all night again; Molly begged him to try and get some rest. Remus told her they would keep watch near the fireplace until Bill and Charlie returned and the twins arrived for the evening.

“Sirius, I think your barrister’s upset with you,” Remus was telling his friend. “He thought he’d crafted the perfect will, had covered every possibility, every contingency, and then you come along and upset the applecart.”

“He’s known me long enough to know my bad habits, Moony, including that one. Guess we’ll just have to work out another way for him to earn his bonus; he’ll be fine once that’s settled. Besides, he was looking forward to going after the Ministry. That’ll be a lot more fun with me here.”

“How about Gringotts?”

“I asked Bill that earlier. He wasn’t aware that anything like this had ever come up before to the degree it was with me. He is going to ask some questions for me. Frankly, I’d rather have Gringotts take the position that it’s a done deal. What I’m really interested in is the Ministry. When I was cleared, a lot of money suddenly came into play. I’m sure that if Fudge ever gave me a second thought, he and his minions were eager to see that most of my personal stuff would be forfeited to the Ministry, though he’d have to work up the nerve to take on the Malfoys. Now, instead of me adding to his coffers, I’m going to try and drain them a bit.”

“If he lasts that long.”

“I’m easy; whoever the Minister is, I’m not the least bit picky.”

“You know, they were going to give you the Order of Merlin, first class.”

“What do you mean, were? They’re taking it back?” Sirius asked, amused.

“Er… I hadn’t thought of that. My tenses are still a bit mixed up about you, Padfoot. Offhand, I guess it’d be kind of hard to take it back. I don’t think there’s anything about the award that has anything to do with your being… er, your condition.”

“Let’s put it this way. If I want another one, I’d rather get it like my grandfather did. It’s simpler.”

“That might be kind of difficult if you meant what you said, about leaving things as they are.”

Sirius looked sharply at the other Marauder. “Moony, do you really think any legal mumbo jumbo is going to make a whit of difference between me and Harry? As long as we have a Knut between us, all of our needs will be met, including yours. I’d originally intended to cut you a lot larger share but didn’t for two reasons. First, given where the Ministry was going with the werewolf stuff, there no point in giving them a reason to add forfeiture to their list. Second, I knew Harry would watch out for you, like I said in the will, that’s never been your strong point. If the Ministry had tried to pull a fast one, you might have let them walk all over you instead of letting someone like Jon handle it. That’s why I set it up, so there’d be at least the salary from the trust, enough to live pretty well on but not enough to attract the vultures, until Harry was a bit older.”

“Since when did you start planning ahead for anything?”

“Try staring at these walls for months on end with nothing but Buckbeak and Kreacher for company most of the time. Speaking of Kreacher, I’ve not seen him. Is he here?”

Remus told Sirius what Kreacher had done and how he had killed himself when he thought Dobby was replacing him. Sirius shook his head, frustrated. “I should have taken care of him long before…. If I had realized he could have put Harry at risk, I’d have killed him myself. But I listened to Dumbledore about how abused poor little Kreacher had been….”

“You were pretty hard on him tonight, Paddy. He’s really tried square things with Harry, you know. Nothing we’d planned came off, but he set it up to where Harry could use magic, could see his friends, and would have had a regular parade of us moving in and out of Surrey all summer.”

“Even so, I’m just as glad that house is gone, and Harry will never even have to look at it again. And I’m not sad to see Vernon Dursley on the far side of the pond.” Sirius got a distant look for several moments; as Moony watched, a wistful expression crossed his face. “Maybe I’ll look him up when I’m there.”

“Bollocks, Sirius. I’m not one of your mushrooms.”

Sirius grinned widely. “Hey, did Harry ask Dumbledore?”

Remus looked puzzled for a second, them remembered what Bill had described. “Yeah, that first night, but Dumbledore paraphrased your explanation. But you’re not going to get away with trying to change the subject on me that easily.”

“If you remember that much….”

“Cut the crap, Padfoot. This is me, Moony, that you’re talking to. I knew exactly what you meant when you told Albus you were going to look up some old school friends.”

Sirius looked at Remus for a long moment, weighing. “Maybe you do; maybe you know all of it, though I don’t see how anyone possibly could. But I’m asking you as a friend and my brother, Moony; say no more, at least for now. Particularly not here…walls have ears, and Merlin knows what the twins have come up with by now.”

“That’s poetic justice, if there ever was. You worrying about someone else’s prank on you?”

Sirius hesitated, not responding to Lupin’s lighthearted jab, and then reluctantly asked, “Did you ever hear…?”

Remus shook his head. “No, Sirius. Nothing.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When the meeting had broken up, Hermione had led Ron to the third floor library; remembering their exchange earlier during their Defense practice, Ron didn’t object, though out of the many rooms that house held, the library was the last one he wanted to be in right now.

Hermione, however, was in her element. With the dust cleared away, she slowly began working her way through the stacks, picking out a few books for what she called, “a bit of light reading.” Ron followed behind her, and tried to look interested as she pointed out rare and occasionally dangerous tomes.

“And you had me searching through here blindly?”

“Just looking at the titles, you weren’t supposed to open anything, you know.”

After working through several of the shelves, Ron was carrying ten or so books on various subjects; several of them were quite dark; Ron was sure that all of them would have been in the restricted section if they were at Hogwarts.

Figuring that he had put in enough time to gain at least a few points, Ron suggested, “You know, it’s been over an hour. Maybe Mrs. Flamel has finished with Harry and Ginny by now.”

“Surely they’d have come down.”

“They may be looking all through the house.” Ron had almost added that out of the dozens and dozens of rooms in the house, they were standing in the very last one he’d search; no one in their right mind willingly entered a library during holiday. “Or could be they are still up there. Ginny was affected a lot more than Harry was this morning.”

“You really don’t want to stay here any longer, do you, Ron?” she asked; to his relief Ron could see she wasn’t upset.

“Honestly?” She nodded. “No. I’m just not good at this sort of thing like you are. Besides, I know where to turn when I need answers.”

“Okay.” She smiled at him and decided all his sins were forgiven. “Let’s go find Harry. If you’ll take that stack to my room, I’ll wait by the stairs for you, and maybe we’ll look at a couple of them together later tonight.”

Ron carefully kept the grin off his face until his back was towards her. Maybe there was something to be said for moving away from the margins, after all. He placed the books on a table near her bed, then walked back to join Hermione near the stairs; together, they climbed to the forth floor.

The door to the master suite was open; looking in, they saw Perenelle sitting on one of the couches, comfortably settled against the back and the arm, but they saw no trace of Harry or Ginny. Perenelle saw them and motioned them in. They entered and after glancing around, settled on the other couch.

“You no doubt hoped to find someone else here,” Perenelle said. “I’m afraid your friends have already retired for the night; Ginny in particular has had a somewhat taxing day.”

Ron repeated what he had said to Hermione earlier. “She was hit by… well, whatever it was a lot harder than Harry was. She was pretty wobbly on the way to the hospital wing.”

Perenelle nodded. “The two of you are quite close, aren’t you?”

Ron nodded as Hermione said, “Ron’s just a little overprotective of Ginny sometimes.”

“Yes, I could see he had reservations that day we first met; I had wondered at first if the two of you were twins before I learned Ginny was a year behind you at Hogwarts.”

“We’re only eight months apart,” Ron said. “I know she was born almost two months earlier than expected, but not much more than that, other than it was a pretty close thing. Mum and Dad won’t talk about it at all. She was always the smallest kid her age for most of the time we were growing up. I guess I kind of got in the habit of looking out for her.”

“Then be secure in the knowledge, she is well cared for this night.” Perenelle debated for a moment if she should say more, then decided. “Earlier tonight, Ginny experienced something that was quite traumatic. In her first year, when Voldemort’s echo possessed her, there was much she did not remember. She had pushed these memories away and buried them deeply; however, the bond that she and Harry share would not permit these things to remain hidden. Ginny and Harry confronted them together. This was what had slowed their bonding, not the procession of events around you.”

“Will they be okay?” Ron asked, concerned.

“Yes, but be considerate of them, particularly Ginny, for the next few days. Her confidence has been badly shaken, and it will take time it to fully recover. And unless one of them brings it up, do not ask; forget we ever had this conversation. Be confident that all shall be as it should be, regarding your friends. They both have a great deal of courage.”

Ron nodded; he remembered how Ginny had cried out her sleep, night after night, the summer following that first year, and even now, the nightmares would occasionally return. “None of us ever really knew… She wouldn’t even talk about it much with Mum.”

“Did we ever really try?” Hermione pondered. “I knew she had nightmares, even though she started casting silencing spells at night in our third year so no one else would know. I think Professor McGonagall showed her how at the start of her second year because of the other girls in her dormitory.” Ron looked surprised; she undoubtedly had forgotten occasionally, at least at home because he still heard her cry out in her sleep from time to time.

“Harry, too, believed he knew what had befallen Ginny when she fell under Voldemort’s spell,” Perenelle said. “He could not comprehend how she had bourne this alone for so long, but that is no longer the case. They have shared their hearts completely; together, they can overcome even this.”

They sat quietly for several moments, Ron and Hermione each deep in their own thoughts. Hermione slipped her hand into Ron’s, then asked, “Could we… I mean, Ron and I… could we ever achieve the kind of sharing Harry and Ginny have?”

Perenelle looked thoughtfully at them before replying. “Bonding is rarely attempted today; in some ways, there are too many distractions, and the muggle society has changed many of our norms. It normally requires a great deal of preparation and strong magic. Both of you, will, I think, possess the necessary magical ability, but you are far from ready; indeed, you have not fully come to terms with each other yet.

“The last few days… sometimes, watching Harry and Ginny… and you and Nicholas… I’ve felt, well, a little jealous,” Hermione explained.

“Nicholas and I were together many years before we invoked the bonding ritual, child. Even as that incorrigible rogue Sirius Black told you in his will, neither a library nor intellect will have all the answers. There are no contradictions, Hermione, only errors in our assumptions. If this is the path that you and Ron desire, it will be within your ability to achieve together. And, should you so choose, when you are ready, I will help you, but for now, relish your youth; indeed, the finish line is not nearly as rewarding without the race.”

As Perenelle watched Hermione attempt to digest her answer, she realized it would take time for her to really understand her answers; Hermione was not yet ready for this conversation to proceed further. Perenelle changed the subject. “I would like to learn more about the two of you. How old were you when you learned you were a witch, Hermione?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry gently lowered Ginny to the sleigh bed; as he eased her down, she still would not look at him. Careful not to break contact, he slipped off her shoes and jeans, as she lay there, unmoving, facing away from him. Awkwardly, he kicked off his shoes and shed his outerwear while maintaining their contact. Harry then lay down beside her; he settled on his back and as gently as he could, coaxed her to roll on her side toward him; they had gone to sleep together in this fashion each night except one. Ginny at first resisted, then turned toward him and buried her face against his shoulder again. He could feel sobs rack her slender frame; he held her, one hand stroking her back, the other holding her hand; he waited.

Again, it took several minutes for Ginny to cry herself out; Harry noticed the sobs had changed to hiccups; he lightly tugged against her shoulder, coaxing her back enough that he could see her face; her eyes were red, her face streaked with tears, and the hiccups deepened her misery. Harry slipped his hand from hers; unthinkingly, he conjured a glass of water. Ginny felt him shift then coolness against her lips; Harry was propping her up and holding a glass of water. Gratefully, she took several sips; then Harry set the glass on the table beside them. “You’ve cried so much, you’re dehydrating yourself,” he said, and was rewarded with a ghost o f a smile.

“You don’t have to, Harry,” Ginny whispered. “It’s just the two of us, now. Honor was served, though Merlin knows why you bothered; I have none. I think she would have understood if you had walked away. I’ll… I’ll do whatever’s needed, whatever’s required, to get you through this; then… I’ll… I’ll go….”

“Ginny, I wasn’t putting on a front for Perenelle; I meant every word, and more. Words… mere words can’t describe what I feel for you, can’t express the depth or the heights of my feelings for you….” He took his free hand and fumbled against her hand, drawing two of her fingers against his index and middle finger as he had seen the Flamels do; then, with everything he had, he reached out to her. He felt her as he had earlier, as he had Perenelle lead them, but this was different somehow; it was deeper and somehow, fulfilled a yearning he’d never fully realized he had. His care, his love, his concern flooded into her; Ginny felt as if she had been swept aloft and away from the mire of her despair.

This time, instead of her memories, she saw herself through his eyes, saw how carefully he had watched her, how he was familiar with little mannerisms that even she had been unaware of. And how he felt about her; how had she ever doubted him?

She heard him, though Harry’s lips were still. “Do you now see, my love? The past doesn’t matter; all that matters is what we do from here. If Trelawney has seen true, the fate of our world, the wizarding world lies in your hands and in your heart. I need you beside me. I could never do it alone, but even if I could, I would still choose to be with you. I love you, Ginny.”

She had to be sure. She again recalled the memories of Tom Riddle, this time slowly, in order, resolutely, analytically, and dispassionately; she made no effort to spare herself, or him. She lingered over the worst of it, making sure he missed nothing. To her surprise, there was neither the disgust she expected nor the pity she feared. Instead she felt understanding, sympathy and love flow from him… and a rising anger that by far surpassed what they together had unleashed against Severus Snape or he had felt for a few minutes toward Dumbledore when they discovered Sirius lived. This anger was not directed at her, but at Voldemort; when he realized she had become aware of these feelings, he pushed them firmly away; all she felt from then was his care, his concern, and his love.

“Are you convinced, at last, my love? This does not matter. Oh, there will be a reckoning, but between us, you and I, this does not matter. Indeed, as with all of Voldemort’s works, this has no reality at all; it is nothing but a figment of his memory and warped imagination that happened inside a book he had the misfortune to enchant. The diary was destroyed; it is gone, and so has all that was contained or occurred there. You are not tainted, Ginny, you too have faced the most evil wizard of them all, and you have won. We are both scarred by our battles, but only mine is visible. Yours is deeper.”

“Harry… I’m sorry.”

“I am too. It didn’t need to be this hard, for either of us. Forgive me, Gin?”

“Yes, though there’s nothing to forgive. Forgive me, Harry? I wasn’t strong, but I won’t fall again.”

“Yes, though as you said, there’s nothing to forgive.”

“Said? I’m not sure I know the words… for what we’re doing now.”

“Does it matter? We’re together.”

He pulled her to him; their lips met. This too was different; the temporal flow altered, but now, they were fully aware of each other. Their kiss deepened; and for the first time, they fully felt their passions rise. Harry waited, unmoving, for some finite time between a millisecond and a millennium; after what she had shown him, this could only be Ginny’s choice.

She chose.

Artlessly and awkwardly they explored; their consciousnesses intermingled, almost as if a single mind controlled their two bodies. After some unknown time, Harry realized they were about to cross a boundary. “Are you sure, Gin?”

Her answer was not given in words; they both experienced each other’s joy and sensation; then, they found themselves lost in each other as the intensity of the experience overwhelmed them both.

Harry slowly became aware of himself again as an individual; he could feel a connection to Ginny, but the intensity of their experience… well, wasn’t entirely gone, but had diminished into manageable proportions. He kissed Ginny’s forehead, that being the part of her closest to him where she had again curled beside him. “That was… was…”

“Worth the wait?” She grinned impishly at him.

“Yes. But look how much time we’ve wasted.”

“Are you suggesting we need to make up for lost time?”

“Maybe in a bit. I was just thinking it’s funny that I have to keep relying on Sirius’ music to find words for what I’m feeling.”

“Then we’ll have to listen to more of it. What, Harry?”

“From that song we listened to the other day. It’s a line that's been running through my head… after we… Love… Reign O’er Me. Reign O’er Me.”

“Love. Yes, Reign O’er Me.”